od. I never really got mixed up in the wrong things, like drugs, alcohol or prostitution. I have a wonderful, close and loving family. I have great friends. Yes, I've gone off the path a few times but nothing too serious. And I always find my way back.
I have a warm bed to sleep in, where I'm safe. I have a job. I have a salary. I have a car that runs, no matter how much crap it gives me sometimes. I have clothes and nice things. I have my hobbies and I have a laptop with internet access.
It doesn't always sound like much, and yes of course I've wanted more, just like anybody would... But think about how selfish that is of us. There are too many people who don't have the blessings I have. There are too many broken, lost, abused and tortured people in the world... who can hardly imagine the life I have. It saddens me and it makes me feel really guilty, even though I know I'm not at fault for it. I'm just blessed.
I came across a blog the other day. I'm sure there are a lot of the same blogs on the net, but the one I came across scared me and made me sad, sick, and feeling more and more blessed to be me, the more I read. I don't really know how to comment on her posts, but I try. This woman started writing not too long ago, about her abusive childhood. Her two younger brothers and herself, grew up with a father who controlled and physically abused their mother and emotionally abused them as well. He was an alcoholic. Her mother ended up killing her father because he was going to kill all of them. After her father's death, her mother went haywire, sleeping with different men and neglecting her motherly duties. They eventually ended up living with the grandparents, of which the grandfather wasn't biological. The grandfather molested her throughout the years they lived there and the grandmother and the mother was oblivious.
She writes in a way that captures the reader. She pulls you into that time in her life. It saddens me to the core that this amazing woman had to go through all of that. She never deserved it. No one ever does. It's situations like theirs, lives like theirs, that I want to be able to change. That I want to be able to make better. I don't understand how people can be like the ones in her life for example. Rapists. Murderers. Molesters. Alcoholics. Abusers. And I know it is probably because of the 'protected' life I had. I knew only of the dangers of the world. I hardly, if at all, experienced them.
And I can't be thankful enough...