Adopted , betrayed and abused. Continued

My earliest memory is being thrown to the car floor, my mother said it is impossible because I was only 8 months old when she had that accident.
I remember seeing the back of the puffy hair styles of her and her sister. they didn't have car seats then and usually babies were held or laid in the back seat, being that my adopted mother hated me anyway, I was rarely held. Shoot, she wouldn't even let my father hold me. Up until the last time I saw them she would have a snit if we would talk or laugh. She made sure she drove a wedge between me and my adopted father. I have never met such an extremely hateful woman as she. Now there are hateful women and I have met them but she took it to the extreme in my case. It seems like that has happened to me a lot in my life.
My adopted mother was from a very large family and she was the eldest girl. They were poor and lived in the hills.  I have often tried to make sense and reason why she was so hateful towards me so I have thought on this extensively.
I come up with nothing.
Just even writing about this woman causes me to shake, so much emotion left it is hard to face. I guess everyone wants to be loved even by a monster, because it is the only person you are exposed too,
It is winter now and my son gets many snow days, it really makes him happy.
Myself, I hated snow days, it meant I would have to stay home with HER. Usually I was made to stand in the corner from sun up to sun down, just getting out to go to bed. I couldn't even get a glass of water or go to the bathroom without asking, the latter part of my days at this home were hell. When I went to bed, if I had to get up to go to the bathroom I would get screamed at and usually hit. So I kept a towel on the side of my mattress and relieved myself on it instead. I then would put them in the towels that were washing when she wasn't looking.
I could never open the fridge, I got beat for that. Once she made me eat a whole bottle of ketchup for my troubles. I was sick, what did you expect?
My mother was extremely unstable, naturally. I wish she did drink more often because she was happier when she did.
I do remember her drinking coffee all day long, the constant cup in her hand, her breath smelling of the wretched stuff while screaming in my face. Summers were particularly hard, all day with this gorgon.
She came into my room one night and screamed at me that I wasn't sleeping in my bed properly , so she grabbed me by the hair and threw me to the floor. I would get back in and she would repeat this over and over, it got to where I was afraid to sleep, and I was a nervouse wreck. I wasn't allowed to sleep with pillows because they might inspire sexual feelings. No stuffed animals in my bed, no pillows no comfort.
Just lonely. It is still hard for me to sleep at night........is anybody out there?

adopted, abused, betrayed.

I have been on a serious journey of self. I was an adopted child who was abandoned like yesterdays mutt who's owners decide they no longer want a dog nor the responsibility, but before they dump it, they subject it to all kinds of abuse both physical and mental. If you dare to confront them about it, you are disobeying and will be dealt with accordingly, usually by worse abuse.

I slept on the side of a free way when I was 14 because I ran away ( my foster father made living very uncomfortable coming into my bedroom late at night). I had no shoes and I went usually for days without eating. I remember going into truck stops and sitting at a table with leftover meals and pretending the previous folks just went on ahead while I gobbled the remaining scraps from their meal, stuffing the complimentary crackers into my pocket before being chased out.

This was during the late 70's and early 80's. I think the scariest was when I was forced into a car by a bunch of pimps who threatened  to slice me if I didn't get " turned out."
And they say slavery is dead, well it is not it just takes on a different form.
I ended up jumping out a motel bathroom window, again with no shoes.

Now ,I have started in the middle of my childhood side of the story and maybe that's not the best place to start.... but I was told once  just start writing and it will flow the way it should and you can redirect later, just like a dam controls the flood.  That is how I feel , flooded.  Flooded with sadness, betrayal and  having a voice that was always beaten into silence or never believed at all due to lying adults.

I was told over and over again, no one would believe me because I was bad. A stupid little slut of a girl. well if losing ones virginity by being raped at 12 makes you a slut, I suppose I fit the bill.

The best liars in the world was my adopted parents, they made sure ( well my mom did) to tell everyone of my clumsiness ( to explain the injuries), my wilfulness, and how I was a horrible child. She pretty much turned the whole family against me. That's how abusers function, they alienate you from everyone the possibly can, you feel alone, unable to bear it and the only one there is your abuser.
During this time I lived through unspeakable horrors. I will elaborate at a later date as my hands are shaking with emotion. I will need to think deeply, it is hard to weave a tapestry of evil with just plain words.