Just the Facts: A Timeline

"You white people are so strange. We think it is very primitive for a child to have only two parents." ~Australian aboriginal elder

"One who gains strength by overcoming obstacles possesses the only strength which can overcome adversity." ~ Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965) French philosopher & physician-missionary to Africa

I've decided to try once again to set down an autobiographical timeline. I've tried to do this before, but I haven't been able to withstand the pain. I'm always afraid people think I'm crazy or just making it all up when they learn of my childhood experiences. I suffer from post traumatic stress disorder and major depression, but I've never been delusional. You can't make this shit up; it's too bizarre.

The timeline.
I was born in 1953 in a city in the deep south. In 1956, we moved to a different state. The
first episode of violence I can remember was my dad's attempt to set my mom on fire. I can't recall the timeline for all subsequent violence against my mom.

In 1961, I began elementary school. My father was having an affair with a woman and he took me along when he went to her house so that he could lie to my mom about where he was. I was expected to go along with the lie. Eventually, he stopped lying and started fucking her at our house. He beat her up pretty regularly, too. I think that went on for a couple of years, maybe. Then I think she got pregnant and my family drove her to some place in another city. Probably a home for unwed mothers. I never saw her again.

In the second grade, we moved to a different house. At some point my dad's ex-wife came to live there and my mom moved into a little apartment located on the same property. I had to continue to live with my father. It broke my heart.

His ex-wife used to try to get me to do things, like let her give me a bath. That pissed me off. I spent as much time as possible with my mom. My father had some real issues with jealousy; I was keenly aware of that. I think maybe he asked me (or maybe I just volunteered) that some guy had been over. He beat her up really badly in front of me. She left rather abruptly and my mom moved back in. I never saw her again, either.

This is about all of the timeline I can manage today. It's very emotionally difficult, because when I remember, I relive. It's hard to really identify when one's personal history begins. Obviously, there was a specific time and place when I was born, but I'm not certain if one can just start there and expect to make sense of personal history. My parents lived through things that created deep and irreparable damage. Some of that damage no doubt was inflicted because of the woundedness of their parents.

Maybe the events that define our lives will always be a mystery, because of the impossibility of gaining reliable information about their roots. In addition to that problem, there's also the nature/nurture question. I know for a fact that my father's family has some serious mental illnesses which are generally considered to be genetically-linked. On the other hand, to say they received inadequate nurturing would be a profound understatement. I don't know of any mental illnesses present at an early age in my mother's family. She did have some traumatic events early in her life, though she would not define them as such.

I suppose I will speak to some of those issues as I explore my life. For some reason, I believe if I can just create this timeline, it will be healing for me. That remains to be seen.