Peggy

I'm not sure if anyone pays enough attention to my Entries to remember Peggy. She's my stepmom. When I was living with my dad, that was actually her house. My dad just lived there. She is the one who stormed in and said, "I want you out of my house RIGHT NOW!!!" and then dumped me at the Salvation Army. I've always considered her to be one of my abusers. Not just because of the "RIGHT NOW!!!" thing. I've left her out of most of my Entries because she's old and blah blah blah. Felt weird saying the things that she did.

Like, she came into my room and randomly started slapping my computer and calling it "useless technology bulls***". She spend a long time trying to force me to throw it out. She liked listening to my music (I have mostly oldies. 28,000 oldies songs, to be exact. 48,000 songs total), but she didn't like the thing the songs were on. Didn't make any sense.

New Years Eve 2008/New Years Day 2009 she told my dad, "Now Michael, we don't want any trouble tonight out of you. You're not going to ruin tonight for us." and she locked him in their room. We could hear him thrashing about to get out, throwing things, kicking the walls, screaming his head off. It was like a kid in timeout, or a prisoner in solitary confinement. Only this wasn't solitary. An hour later, after my dad had wore himself out and passed out on the floor, and after she said, "I want tonight to not have any drama in it", she turned to me at the table and said, "You know, your God contradicts Himself."

Yeah, I got mad.

"He says to not drink alcohol, yet his own SON" [she shouted "SON"] "turned water to wine. He drank wine at The Last Supper. If you saw the movie The Last Temptation of Jesus Christ, you'll see that He was a drunkard." She then had me get my Bible (what a shock, she didn't have one) and looked up the "water to wine" verse. "...and they DRANK...See?! God's own Son got drunk! He contradicts himself!"

She never let that stop. She tried having the "wine always has been alcoholic" argument with me every change she could after that. Even when I explained to her that wine is grapes, and that when she gave my nieces Welch's she was technically giving them wine, she would say, "So you're saying that the Son of God drank grape juice? You hypocrite!" when I went and looked on Encyclopedia Britannica (which I had on my computer) where it said that there are different kinds of wine, the most basic of which being grape juice (yes, Welch's is technically wine), she said, "That's just somebody's opinion!"

She once made up this story about how I had beat her with my jacket, how I had "grabbed [my] jacket off the chair and swung it at [her] repeatedly." Luckily, most people knew that wasn't something I would ever do. She, on the other hand, did beat me. One time it was bad enough to need the hospital, but she bolted my door so I couldn't get out. the other times was just a slap or a punch. The time she bolted my door, she had pushed me into some glass. a shard got stuck in my arm and it bled real bad. She grabbed my other arm and threw me in my room and bolted it. I'm lucky to not have a scar from that.

When I would come visit after she kicked me out, she always greet me with, "I knew you would come back to me!". I usually just came by to check on Satghn.

Four months ago, Peggy had a stroke. I went to go visit her. She looked so weak. To my surprise, I actually felt bad for her. I wanted her to recover. It was awful seeing her like that. In early March, Kristin and I visited my dad at the house. Peggy came out and looked worse than before. Kristin is technically a nurse, and when I told Peggy this, she told Kristin in detail what was wrong. Kristin understood. I didn't. Something I did understand was when her hand was just sitting there by her side and then curled up on it's own and she didn't even realise it. That scared Kristin and I both.

My dad called me on May 21 to tell me that Peggy was in a coma and that he had left her because "she was too much of a burden". On the night of 7 June 2010, Peggy passed away. I've been confused on my feelings of this, on the verge of tears at all times, but I also don't wanting to shed any for her. I was ordered by my dad's side of the family to attend the funeral, but I refused to go. I keep thinking "One down". Is this wrong?