It so happens that.... I was tortured and abused unmercifully in the Government approved Foster Home that I woke up in at the tender age of four and a half. A blessedly genuine adoption by an older childless couple on a 360 acre farm in the heart of the Haliburton Highlands ensured the imminent end to screaming sweating night terrors (thats what they were referred to as way back then...) but not the curse of latent potential and the social ineptness that would necessarily attract ostracization from my classmates... From the scars of Self-Injury to scars of clumsiness; scars of labor; scars of sloppiness; scars of fluke and mishap; scars of ignorance; scars not my own; scars...scars...scars.. scars of abuse; scars of betrayal; scars uncountable; scars.... To date: Four knee surgeries; three shoulder surgeries involving a bone graft from my pelvis...twice, dagnabit!!!; two reconstructive procedures to save as much of my amputated index finger & thumb of my right hand; two cranial reconstructive procedures following a near-fatal car crash. I await a knee replacement that is, apparently, NEVER going to happen in THIS province; then its the left shoulder (rotator cuff); the RIGHT knee or the LEFT hip, whichever takes precedence. I have been beaten and left in the gutter where I belonged; I did, in fact, bring a knife to a gun fight...and I was drunk to boot. Still...gas on the fire... I have been stabbed three times, once requiring 214 stitches and three hours of pettipoint stitch work. My back was almost broken on the grade six playground, but Id still rather work you into the ground than beat you into the ground. My muscles know how to work all the live long day. My farmer parents found a very willing and grateful helper....and STUDENT. I LIVE with a CHRONIC concussion as a result of NUMEROUS head blows, even though I have never competed or even sparred with a boxing partner...from before I open my eyes until the time I drift off... Go out in the hall, pull the fire alarm, and come back inside and close the door.... Some days the door seems to be propped open.... Damaged people are dangerous because they KNOW they can survive.... Scars prove the battle as sweat proves the effort.
Posted on: Thu, 24 Oct 2013 01:21:57 +0000
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