I always find my self cycling from all the why's and how comes about why no one ever did a thing to put the brakes on my mother and the reality of day in and day out life with her. She was always banging around with some guy. Usually the husband of one of her friend's, or a friend of my father's.
I am convinced that she found the sex act revolting. Because of the way she spoke to me of sex as an adult. (Yet another boundary violation and something I didn't want to know)
It was all the mind fucking and turmoil she loved and could instigate by fucking the nearest and dearest of those around her that propelled her onward and upward and greased the skids for her falling on the next penis.
My sister told me about a time when she was about 5 or 6 (my sister) and my mother picked up some guy hitch hiking and pulled off and f'ed him while me sister looked on from the back seat.
The Barbarian was pretty shameless about doing whatever she damned well pleased, when ever it damn well pleased her as long as there were no witnesses around but me or my sister. Starting first grade was that line of demarcation for her not performing those kind of antics in front of me. I suppose she figured I was getting to an age that I would remember her actions and also old enough to figure out it was wrong.
Which brings me to the point. I always knew that my father would find a way to enough denial to forgive her kabillion affairs that he knew about because he always did. And her mother knew she was a slut from way back but always found a way to excuse the worst behavior from of her.
A jury of her peers couldn't find the wherewithal to convict her for a murder a blind man could see she was guilty of.
So what chance did a couple of kids or some meddling neighbor have in changing the world around them and her.
Jim JonesBecause between someone trying to do the right thing, and the right thing being done, it would have been hell on earth for us. Me and sis would have bore the brunt of unceasing rages and who the hell knows what else.
Me and sis were doomed before we hit the ground. Trying to fix anything would have been like changing deck chairs on the Titanic.
Even though she would have thought nothing of smothering us with a pillow. No one could ever know this but her.