STORYTIME TAPESTRY

<br>The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world

Special Treat ??“ Sharlett Hunt

May 21, 2005

 Depression

 by Sharlett Hunt  5/6/05

  It comes upon me slowly, quietly, and I don't even notice it until it is too late.  Depression, that ugly state of being that I continuously fight like a wounded soldier in combat.

  Without realizing what is happening, though I should, sometimes I succumb.  The day becomes dreary, with no light, as I sit and watch television, not knowing or caring what program is on.

  My thoughts are all scattered.  I sigh as I wonder when and if it will end this time.  Is there no joy in my life?  Deep inside I search for an answer but all I receive are negative, blaming, accusing.  I struggle to find a positive, uplifting thought that will bring me up out of this darkness.

  This absurd state of mind has been a part of my reality as long as I can remember.  As a severely emotional child, due to the world in which I lived, I always felt alone, never part of the group.  I would cry at the least provocation, hiding those things that were really bothering me.  My family was one in which extreme poverty was a way of life.  The sexual and physical abuse began at such an early age that it seemed to have always been there, as a nagging fear in the pit of my stomach.

  My dad left my alcoholic, mentally ill mother to fend for the children when I was quite young, about four or five.  Later, when I was twelve she had moved us to Virginia, where she left me, alone, taking my three younger sisters.  I had no idea for at least a year that she had returned to Florida and told the others that I had died in a car accident. 

  I had no one so when this lady asked if I wanted to stay with her family and care for the children, I accepted, never dreaming of the horror that was to come.  Her husband sexually molested me and they both beat me so badly that I would go to school with bruises and welts from a belt.  I loved school and the time they allowed me to go I did well and made honor role and was quite proud of this accomplishment.  I cried for my family all the time and social services wanted  to put me in a mental institution before my thirteenth birthday.  The family would not have that for by this time, I was completely under their control.  In fact, one of their family members who tried to get me out of that situation called it, "white slavery'. 

  I was forced to quit school at fifteen and went to work in a furniture factory.  By this time I was put on birth control pills and just let this man have his way.  I had given up hope.  I worked from daylight till way after dark, not only at my job but chopping wood for a furnace and taking care of the house and kids.  When I didn't do something fast enough, I was beaten. 

  Finally, from somewhere I got up the nerve to run away.  I will never forget it.  It was shortly before my 18th birthday.  I had made friends with a girl whose father was a policeman in our little town.  I would never tell the whole story but he suspected something was going on as I was never allowed to date or do things other girls my age were doing. 

  It was cold and there was snow on the frozen ground the night I left.  I put my clothes on over my pajamas and crept out into the night, barefooted, and ran all the way to the police station, where my friend's dad was on duty.  I was crying and shaking so hard but it was finally apparent why I was there.  He helped me find a room with a lady who took in foster children and I remained at my job and never told the awful truth about those years.  I kept it all inside for the most part.  I do realize I still have a lot of anger for being forced to give up my childhood.

  All that was so long ago.  It seems like it was another completely different life.  I am a grandmother now, for God's sake.  Thing is, there is still a little corner of my mind where all these things linger.  Sometimes I don't feel that I deserve to be happy.

  I have finally learned that the person I am is a direct result of all these things I had to experience.  I am improving daily and learning ways to help me fight this madness.  I am very grateful just to have lived through this nightmare that was such an innocent, happy time for some.  I also know that I am not alone anymore.  I have a God who loves me unconditionally and was always with me, though I didn't know it then.

  I know I have to practice everyday these positive things I've learned and to try to make a difference in someone else's life.  It does seem to be getting easier as time goes on and the black days don't last as long anymore.  I know that as long as I can find reasons to be grateful, even if I have to force myself,  it makes the light at the end of the tunnel shine much brighter.  I always remember that, "this too shall pass", and tomorrow will be a better day.  I have learned I have a choice and today I choose to be happy! 

Sharlette863 @aol.com


About Me:

I was born in Alabama, the middle of
seven children. At about age four we moved
to Central Florida and I have lived here
most of my life. I am a Viet Nam Era
Veteran. I have always enjoyed writing
and as I get older it seems to come more
naturally to me. I believe
everyone has many stories inside them and
some are blessed to be able to share them.
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