It was a little girl born in the world of alcohol and violence. It was negligence, poverty, gossip and fraud. Negative feelings all ran out of dread. She saw his father strike his mother in the head with a hammer. She saw his father cut his mother. She was drawn from one wreath to another, sleeping in the car while her mother drank and fastened. She witnessed many shocks between her father and her mother. The people she asked for help would tell her to "just let them fight." When she became a teenager, her neighbor asked for help to grab the breast as they were heading to his house so that he could "help". Once a police officer grabbed her sister's sister when she asked him to come and stop her parents from the fight.
Apparently, she clearly knows about the age of three or lies under the sibling of the sister listening to her grandson. She wondered how she could be happy. Their first baby doll was an old Pepsi bottle with a headscarf on it. They played in an empty room in the poorly furnished house, where the early morning the sun tore through the window.
She shaved her brain and remembered only one meal in the house: her father's father had eaten in a trap and cooked in rice. She reminds of the table and the chairs in a big kitchen, but other than the birds, nothing is reminded of meals at all. What she likes most is to be hungry. Once she drank ketchup to satisfy her hunger. Another time, it was only a brown liquid steak sauce – very hard to stomach by itself.
Somehow they got set of Childcraft books. It was her first venture about how good the world could be. She spent many hours looking at the pictures and loving colors, art and creativity. She always raised her hand when it was school time. She put her little story and paint. She perceived that her teacher knew about her love to paint because she made her paint on a single number more than not. She rinsed her dollar for a week at lunch to the school shop just because the teacher did not call his name to come up and pay. People fear her. She was away from them. What they could do was very scary to her. All the people she had known so far was out of control. Her escape was in reading. She embraced love to read and learn.
In her sixteenth year she had an angry and hungry personality. Ask her, and she will tell you she believes depression has occurred before she was alone. There was no instruction on how to live, to be, to respond. It was not nutritious, no chat with fireplaces and very few family treatments together. She had ambition, but no skill in discipline, no skill in life. She was lost. She was a 20 year old married, and had no idea what to do. She initially started reading self-help books. A lot of it was confusing and made her feel worse. But she continued her struggle to find the secret to life and lead to happiness and joy.
There has been a long struggle. Now, I'm 48. With the right parents, I would be where I am now much, much sooner. But there is nothing more confusion from the little girl's hurt. The majority of the puzzles have come together. The book that most changed my life is Think and grow well by Napoleon Hill. I have a phonebook. Napoleon Hill's voice has great old-fashioned quality without evidence of self. No, it's not a book of greed or to succeed at the expense of others. It's a book about being the best you can be. I highly recommend it. But beware: The time must be right for you to receive his teachings. You must be ready to be the one you want to be. You must be ready to believe.
A side sign: I find nothing but love and compassion with my parents. They were also lost. How do parents show you how they do not know how they are? My father has passed, but not until I realized that he was afraid of a little boy who had never overcome his own childhood of even worse abuse. Also, through all, there was still love. When I look back, I feel enormous appreciation that love was there. For some children there is no love – only horror. But, that's another story.