A child lost...continued
Being a neglected child
Other than living and going to school with head lice and dirty clothes which made me smell, I also lived in cockroach infested homes. It didn't matter where we lived, they were always there. I was in the fifth grade when one crawled out of my ear and landed on my desk. It was one of my most embarrassing times while being in school. Considering we didn't have running water at home, the dishes weren't done that often and when they were it was with water boiled on the stove. My step sister always swept the floor with a broom before or after school and her and I were in charge of doing the dishes.
This was a problem that I can remember having for as long as I can remember. I can remember stacks of dishes being on the counter waiting to be washed. I remember food having to be put into other containers just so the cockroaches wouldn't get into them. The problem was an issue that I dealt with my whole life growing up.
There were times when I would leave drinks on the table for a few minutes and come back and there would be a roach in the glass. I couldn't drink it then and threw it out. There were also times when they would crawl on the food and at times even get cooked in with the food without anyone noticing until we had already started eating.
Mom would always go buy some bombs to try and rid us of the problem but they would eventually return. It didn't take long either. It seemed that no matter what she tried, it didn't work. She even sprayed before using the bombs and after the use of the bombs, we would have to wash all of the dishes even if they weren't dirty before. It was time consuming and frustrating.
One time when I was in kindergarten and we lived out on Union Road in the brick house, I was trying to get in the back door and stepped on a trash bag that was filled with trash. The bag had glass in it also and I cut my foot on it. I had to go to the hospital to get stitches and I still have a scar on the bottom of my foot from it. The room that was outside the back door, was a big screened in porch and there were lots of trash bags in that room most times. We didn't have trash pick-up and mostly burned it when we were able. We always had a burn pile that was just trash from the house.
Growing up, I didn't realize that I was a neglected child. I knew that my mother loved me. It wasn't until I had children of my own that I realized how badly I did have it and I had vowed to never let them live the life that I had. I would be there for them and I would make sure that they didn't have to endure what I endured. Even with the neglect, I still had some good times growing up. It's usually best to remember the good times and not fall victim to the bad. I try to keep my head up and I always try to do the best I can even when the world tells me something different. Faith in yourself keeps you strong and keeps you going. Despite the neglect, there was always something good to remind me that life is worth living.