The fucked up orphan's diary

Diary page 2

Dear Diary,
As you know, my mom died.
It's been about a week.

Where do I belong?

We'd moved to Washington from New Hampshire twelve years ago, because Mom needed to escape my dad. I had no blood family in the state or near it for that matter.

Currently I am in a half way house because a few days before Christmas, no foster homes were available.

I have no clue where I will be going.

I do know a few things though.

1. I'm too chicken shit to run.

2. I'm relieved to be without my mom.

3. Being in a halfway house really isn't that bad.

Before my mom died, I probably had bruises on my knees from how much I prayed for God to help me.

And then in an instant my life changed. He helped me alright. Now I wasn't sure if I was accepting of the help though.

My feelings are towing the line of:

Being thankful to be safe but also in shock at the fact I got away. I can't believe I got away from that horrible life. From her.

I've been alone a lot but this time there is no one to eventually love me.
Even when she was mad, after the storm there was eventually comfort and love. 

When it was a bad day, my mom would kick me out of the house.

Actually I would run outside in fear of my life.

I'd stay out all day wandering through the green belt eating huckleberries and the plums off the plum tree.

I can thank our Ukrainian land lords for the plum tree.

I would play with my neighbor friends and just be a kid.

She occasionally would scream out of the front door for me. I wouldn't come home for hours though.

She looked like a monster and I knew I would rather be cold, hot, or hungry then walk past her into the house.

I knew she would hit me, as I walked past and pull my hair out. The worst part was the words she spoke. I can hear it now
She would yell something like:
"Your an ugly little bitch, just like your father".
She said she'd never talk about him but was constantly insulting me by comparing me to him.
Hypocritical.

How can one person stay angry for so long? It was usually over something small too.

My diary is a little scattered at the moment because I've written and am just now finding bits and pieces of it.

All of my items were left at the house and only because of my foster mom was I able to salvage a few boxes of items.

Someone had gone through all of our things including ripping up my diary.

My foster mom went through the boxes before I was able to and I know she removed a lot of papers regarding my dad. She wouldn't rip my diary though. I'm sure that was one of the addicts who took over the house after we left. If I haven't mentioned it yet my mom also was a drug user.

I am still searching through boxes just like when she was alive but now it is to reflect on everything I've been through the past 13 years of my life.

I am trying to make sense of the hell I just experienced and it isn't easy. Especially when trusting others is complicated for me.

One new fact:

Even though my foster mom thinks she removed all paperwork regarding my dad I did find a cover sheet to court documents. I know his full name was Tom Sheldon. That's something new.

It's not much but I also know she went to court against my dad to get custody of me. There was also a note made on the page she was filing to terminate his rights as a parent too. I already had this figured out due to her changing my name, somehow the confirmation of it was comforting though.

Maybe that's why he went crazy.

I'd love to read the rest of the documents but my foster mom said I needed to wait until she approved it with my case worker. I hate waiting.

My ability to trust anyone at this point is broken.

I do trust one person though.

James.