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    Patricia
    Patricia
    Patricia
    Ebook67 pages1 hour

    Patricia

    By Patricia Revere

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Support Support Support How God supported me and how I have in some ways supported others, is the most important part of life’s journey. It’s not easy, as my book shows, but we can all be winners at life with God’s help. We can all be as God will have us be.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPage Publishing, Inc.
    Release dateOct 19, 2017
    ISBN9781635688726
    Patricia

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      Book preview

      Patricia - Patricia Revere

      cover.jpg

      P a t r i c i a

      by Patricia Revere

      Copyright © 2017 Patricia Revere

      All rights reserved

      First Edition

      PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

      New York, NY

      First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

      ISBN 978-1-63568-871-9 (Hard Cover)

      ISBN 978-1-63568-872-6 (Digital)

      Printed in the United States of America

      My Story

      This is a short overview

      of my story. I was born in Atlanta, Georgia in March of 1966. My father was an alcoholic and my mother suffered from a mental illness (paranoid schizophrenia) for most of my childhood.

      I always wanted to be a daddy’s girl but with a father mean, selfish, and alcoholic this did not happen. I remember trying to get his attention hoping he would notice me even. I sat opposite him and would stare at him as he drank. I thought he would at least look up and ask why was I staring or say stop staring at me. He didn’t notice me at all it was him and his bottle or whatever he drank all the way. After every swallow he would make a horrible face and move his legs together over and over as if fire was going down his throat. It seemed so awful I wondered why he drank. I don’t remember talking with my father as a child and only a few times maybe twice as an adult for some years. He once said he regretted the first time he took a drink. I had other family members who were also alcoholic so I said that it would not happen to me. So far it hasn’t as I have only taken a drink a few sips here and there. I have never been drunk (or smoked a cigarette for that matter). The damage to my family was too great for me to allow myself to be yet another victim.

      My mother and father separated when I was young. As an adult I wanted to try to make amends to see if a relationship with my father was possible. I made arrangements to meet him one afternoon at a restaurant in the mall. I described what I would be wearing as I knew he would not recognize me. It seemed a shame to have to do that so your own father would recognize you, but it happened to me and has happened to others. (My brother doesn’t even know who his father is—what a shame).

      At the mall my father didn’t recognize me; I watched him walk right pass me. I guess I didn’t describe what I was wearing well enough. My father never really supported me financially and even though he lived not 20 minutes drive away from me, I hadn’t seen him in many years. Still it was easy for me to recognize him even though I didn’t know what he would be wearing. I had always been told I had his nose (big and flat) and sure enough as we stood face to face it was true. The one thing he would give me besides his sperm and a few dollars over my entire life. The meeting did not go well. Even though I now knew I could never have the relationship that I always dreamed of having, I did get answers to some questions I had long wondered about. Years later I saw him a few times more when he ended up in a nursing home. I would go by to see him not out of love for him but for God, as I believed it was part of my obligation to honor my father as the bible says. This was not easy for me. When I would visit I would say a prayer first telling God that I was doing it for him not my father as I didn’t feel any closeness to him. My father is now dead. I am grateful to God that I paid those visits with him as I now have closure knowing I did what I could and it’s all in God’s hands now.

      Life with my mother is a whole other story. If anyone has ever lived with a person with paranoid schizophrenia they can identify with the horrors I faced especially when my mother was off her medication, at those times you never know what monsters you’ll face and when. I feel you have to experience life with a person with paranoid schizophrenia to really understand what it’s like, especially before the shots and other things they have now. Part of the problem is the person doesn’t think they need the medication even though they can’t function successfully without it. You try everything to get them to take the medication. Long story short it’s an absolute horror when a person with paranoid schizophrenia is off their medication, and to have to deal with this as a child definitely leaves its mark. Even though my mother now takes her medicine regularly and our relationship is therefore better, I wonder if I’ll ever overcome the horrible experiences of my childhood.

      Not having a father around and having a mother with a mental illness left me wide open to abuse from an uncle and a cousin. You hear of warnings to stay clear of strangers, but when the abusers are in your own family it’s a hard hit especially with no parent to tell. Parents please tell your children

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