What doesnt kill you makes you stronger

To begin with I am a 21 year old mother, who's husband is in Iraq. I have been with my husband for 3 years now. We rushed into marriage after six months. Not my smartest choice, but not the stupidest thing I have done either.

Thats not the start of me though. No matter how much my husband would like to think that it is, I did live for 18 years before I met him. My life before him was up and down, in and out. There tended to be more bad then good. I am not bitter about it, I am grateful. For what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

My mother was an alcholic when I was growing up. My biological father was no where to be seen. I am glad that he wasn't otherwise I would have never had Wayne for a dad. Thats my one true blessing from my childhood.

I held a high distaste for my mother for years. It was hard for me to get her approval. I never got it untill afer I joined the army. When I was little her favortie thing to do was to hit and kick me. She never touched my brothers, just me. For that I can never forgive her. It lasted for years untill I got tired of it and fought back one day. Then it all changed, it just became more violent. For those who know my mom, know that she is not someone to be fucked with. I use to hate bringing friends over because I didn't want to let them see it. There were a few that have seen it. Wayne always told me to kick her ass in the knees next time she touched me. I could never bring myself to do that. The fights would have ended then and there. No matter how much we fought I could never bring myself to do it. It would have put her in the hospital. I did/do love her, she is my mother. The fights ended after the last major one. We broke the kitchen table. It was the last time she got really smashed and tried to start something with me. It was at the begining of my senior year. I will never forget it. She tried to say it was my trun for dishes, when I had just done them hours before. I went to go do them again, just to keep her quiet. She still came after me. So I shoved her onto the table and she threw the tea pot I had bought her for mothers day at me. I am not sure if she got hurt. I got in my car and just left home for a couple of days, staying at a friends house. Wayne knew where I was, so I wasn't that worried about it. Needless to say after I left my parents I got smashed trying to drink my problems away. I am more like her then I would like to admit. When I came home a couple days later, she had replaced the tea pot. Its no longer out on the shelf with the rest of them. She put it in the attic so that she wouldn't have to look at it. I wonder if she regrets it at all. We are close now. I will never find it within myself to find the strength to forgive her though.

My bilogical father, Jim, has never rally been in my life. He has been in my brothers life even less. I do have one memory of him, only one. I hate him with a passion for that. He came through Decatur one day and stopped by. When I got home from junior high, he was sitting there on the couch. He was gone the next day though. He promised my brothers that he would come back again to see them, he never did. That is the only reason I hold him in such distaste. It doesn't matter how much he hurt me, he broke Jason's heart. Jason use to be proud of him and want to join the army to be like him. Even though he never knew him. After that Jason let Wayne befriend him much easier. I can look at the pictures from that day and see the torture in Jim's eyes. I wish that he had never allowed Jason to meet him.

Then there is Wayne, my guiding light in all of this. He will never know how gratefull I am that he came into my life. Words can not express how I feel about him. For his 50th birthday I agreed to be adopted by him. I was 14 at the time, but by the time that the process ended I was 18. My brothers are not Webb's they are Clarkson's. Jason is one from his dry humor to his sarcastic nature. Tim is Tim, angry as ever. I feel sorrow for Wayne though. His biological daught disowned him when he married my mother. I can't stand to be in the smae room as her. even though we have been in the same room only two times in my life. The second time I almost broke her in half, but that story will come later.

Now there is my grandparents. I have many, all of them have passed on. Well all but one. Grandpa Carrol's health is begining to fail him though. My mothers parents, Grandpa Gene and Grandma Pat, are in a story themselves. I could write about them for hours and I will but I still have alot more to cover. My mother's grandparents I was blessed to know, Grandma Ruby, Grandma Sue, and Grandma Cristine. I had the oppertunity to take care of Grandma Sue the summer before my Sophmore year. I took it, it is a summer I will never forget. After I had to go back home to return to school, she died 2 weeks later. Wayne's parents treated us as if we were their grandchildren, Grandpa Carrol and Grandme Betty, I owe alot of my cooking abilities to her.

My brothers are Tim, Jason, Andrew, and Brad. I am the oldest of my biological family and was raised tht way. I am the middle child with everybody.

Tim is an angry person. There is alot to tell about him. I was blamed for him being put into a mental instution. Jason is like me in every way.

I am sorry but my hands are starting to cramp up. I will write more later.

What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. . .