About the Writer: My Real Life Story- Part 1

Journey Part 1

This is my life, it isn’t some fairy tale and far from it. But it is the life I live and all true not fictional

I wanted to give a glimpse of who I am, and this isn’t for petty or for any kind of remorse; I have lived a life that many have yet to even comprehend and I am proud to keep going even if there may be twists and turns and love and joy and sorrow it is the life I was given. God sure has a way of saying, damn tori you need this bump no wait let me make a turn or better yet lets make it a roller coaster of events to see what you can take.

 

Let me tell you what, I definitely can take a lot. I wanted to show my story because it shows why in some ways I can be emotional as well want to put my heart into places. In life, I am someone who always has others in mind and not really my own. I jump at the chance to help or to push someone forward rather than my own self and I guess its because I have been through so much not many could fathom or deal with on their own.

 

The things I am going to explain, are true, and no not fabricated or exacerbated. It is to show you who I am and why I am the way I am. I am definitely not perfect, nor do I pretend to be. It’s ironic, my literal life could be a huge story in itself or even a lifetime movie to say the least. I write all this down to overcome my own inside head and even overthinking. I bear a lot on my shoulders and sometimes just letting it and break free is the way to go. I am someone who is strong but at times weak and break down, but that’s life and “this is Walgreens” joking, I like to make jokes it helps my own way of coping sometimes.

 

This is my story and I’m sticking to it. There will be many triggers and fair warning graphics that if you have any triggers of rape, molestation beatings bullying even cancer all in one then this probably isn’t a story you want to read. This story is to help others who may have gone through the same or who are now and I only want to tell you this, babe it’s going to get better whatever you are going through you may not see it now but believe me I am living proof it does. Sometimes gods way of saying you have to go through this is because he only wants to break down the walls built and show you what life is worth fighting for.

~

My Name Is Victoria, I go by Tori for short by my friends and Vickie by my mom, my last name I wont reveal because it gets way too personal. I was born March 5th. Even my own birth god said this girl, this is going to be my work in progress. I was born into a life unfortunately wasn’t the best or the best circumstances. My biological mother and father (well the person they say is my father but I have been told now differently) were very young, barely getting by. They were on drugs, many many drugs. From crack to heroine to coke to selling and dealing the works. My biological father was in some gang but it was small. Still though they were known, my mother being the foolish one had her life in front of her; graduated with honors was accepted into college she could have been someone but when drugs enters you life and you think at that age love is the only thing that matters both intertwined can be a mix for hell.

 

I was conceived into that hell and she knew she was pregnant at the time and unfortunately didn’t care one lick if she was or wasn’t only when her next fix was going to be. I was born into the world a drug baby, unfortunately as a drug baby, the drugs can do many things if not take care of for a newborn. My drugs both went to my brain as well as my legs. I had a soft head, my skull underdeveloped and my legs would move constantly and would never stop.

 

My mother and father saw me not as the love they should and could have to turn their lives around but as a paycheck, cha ching welfare money. And its sad to say that now because the things the government could help families with my own is someone who abused the system. The doctors tried to help my biological mom, even my grandmother her mom tried to help but my parents only saw the cash they could get from me. They brought me home, having sold all the baby items for drug money and put me in a drawer, yes I said it, a drawer. I literally was in a mess of cat pee and poop, dog shit, feces everywhere from the homeless who would be in and out of their home. It was one of those broken down slum lord places

 

I wasn’t fed, I was beaten abused when I would cry and unfortunately, this is where some of the details will shock. At 3 weeks old I was done unthinkable things to my body that to this day I deal with, yes by my own real parents who would stick things inside of me beat me did just unthinkable things I tend to keep to myself about, I was molested. I have medical documents unfortunately showing so. CPS at the time, which I wish they were the way they are today with how much the jump on families finally jumped on mine. Back then with welfare, families also had to be screened and they tried to put on a show of how good of parents they were but they weren’t giving the act the needed justice they needed to really pull it off. My grandmother knew things weren’t right and she was the one who first made the reports that abuse could be happening and that’s when welfare jumped in and CPS.

 

By the time they saw the home I was living in, on a surprise visit of course, from what I was told there were people actually entering the house buying the drugs in front of the CPS agents, and when they went upstairs found me in a corner with dogs, cats, lice all over me and bugs I was beaten and about on my last breathe. The scooped me up and honestly they say when you go through something so dramatic like that you can remember things. For me its true, I remember being in that gents arms and him running out of that place like a bat out of hell. I know what the house looked like and I remember the hatred from it.

 

They drove straight to the hospital where my paternal grandmother from my moms side came and met them. The doctors saw me and did so many things to try and help my little broken body, at one point even told my grandmother, you need to go in and say your goodbyes now she wont make it. Well if you knew my grandmother that’s not something you want to tell her about her first grandbaby.

 

She took me home and here I am today she nursed me back to health but it was a one grooving road, from draining me of the drugs from the bugs from the beatings, I had to have extensive care. And I even was considered highly autistic. But my grandmother, man she had something about her that was like she wasn’t going to let me grow up with out any doubt of love or family that cared.

 

I was almost 2 years old, about 17 months, when I found out my biological mother had given birth to yet another little girl. My sister, again the same shit happened all over again thinking my sister was just a paycheck but only this time they knew how to trick the system and play it.

But they weren’t fooling my grandmother, they had barely even tried to show up in court hearings or to anger management classes hell even parenting 101 classes, they didn’t care about showing the courts they wanted me back. The judge ultimately ruled in my grandmothers favor.

 

But my sister, they played the system until she was 2. CPS tried to go in before but never found evidence like it was with my own. But ultimately they screwed up, they beat my sister until her legs were broken and had to get her whole teeth redone from all the beatings. It was awful for her and ultimately the judge gave my sister to my grandmother as well. Now there were two of us

 

Now growing up wasn’t always peachy but my grandmother tried her very best to help us grow and be loved. She married and her as well as my grandfather officially adopted us when I was 7 and my sister 6. I still have that picture to this day, but even if adopted my own biological parents didn’t care about the system and tried to weasel their way back for the welfare checks committing fraud but it caught up to them, before they fled they tried one more attempt when I was in 4th grade to try and kidnap us from school My grandmother was so shaken up and we really, at the time, never knew why we were hauled off by police but my grandmother decided enough was enough and took us on a long vacation. We were away for about 6 months and came home where things got back to normal or so I thought.

 

To this day, I will forgive in the eyes of god, but can I forget? no, I cant because it gives me a way to see what not to do and how to be the best mom I can be for my two littles even if I'm doing it on my own. I never will ever have my real biological parents in my life, not near me or near my children which I will explain further down the road, this is just the beginning of my journey. My sister however, did forgive and let them back into her life. To each their own I suppose. I have two half brothers I don't speak to because that's what my father really wanted he didn't want me, he wanted them. They are just as hurtful if not more like their father, and again that story will come.

 

#TBC you think this was hard, let me show you what my adolescent years were like followed by my non-existent 20’s where I grew up way too fast and to my now a days full of still trial and error of being a single mom of 2 under 2! #TBC