About Me

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I'm 23 now; In the BDSM lifestyle for four- almost five years now. I am a 24/7 slave with a wonderful Daddy/fiancee: who is artcomet.blogspot.com. But as you will see in this blog are the emotions that I go through each and every day- in and out of the lifestyle. This is to show how much I've grown and bonded with my Daddy, how I've dealt with 'the world", and how I dealt with people in the BDSM lifestyle; Enjoy.

November 12, 2011

Interworks of Ashpea, Part seven

My memories as a child, always stuck with me, because when i was young, even at the age of two, i could remember, what was done to me. But some parts, i don't remember, and my family, would always hold them above my head. With this next part of the story, i will tell you, what my family has told me, and then my memories as a child of it. Caution, this may be a bit short... but we will see.

Okay, ever since i started articulating words and such, my mother always kept saying, oh your just a stupid retard. Stop babbling and such. And from that time, i always wonder what she meant. But i didn't really have to wonder, because she would come out with saying this..
When i was born, the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck, and it took the doctors hours to revive me. From there, the doctors said, i would always be retarded and never learn anything.
And i guess my parents thought that as well. But for some odd reason, my mother helped me learn things and such. I don't really remember what age i was, when my mother started drawing and making the alphabet for me, but i do remember that. And remembering her harsh words, when i couldn't get it. I remember crying and hitting my head on the coffee table, or pulling my hair, because i simply didn't understand it.
Somehow, i remember sitting in my room, and i would look at the letters over and over, and some how i think i taught myself. But when i was young, my mother taught me, to do tasks, like two or three things at a time, and i couldn't do it. Would always forget one thing, after another, and get smacked across the face for it, or harsh words. No love, nor any good comments, when i did any thing right. I think in the end, it made me distance of my family, but also a determined child to learn to do things on my own.

When i started kindergarten, i was behind on everything, since i had so much going on in my life at that time, i couldn't practice or know the things a six year old is suppose to know. So, i got held back, to t-1 and also R-1, which is reading. I felt really ashamed of it, and along with that, i had speech lessons on top of that.
I remember every Tuesdays and Thursdays i would have to leave my class room for two/three hours, and come back, being way behind in my studies. I would come home, with about triple the amount of homework, other kids were getting. And i would sit there, doing it, for about seven hours straight. Bawling my eyes out, hitting my head or pulling my hair, because i didn't understand it.
Mom would help me, but i would get smack, or yelled at, because it wasn't clicking inside my head. How can i child understand something, if it doesn't click? I'll tell you, its very hard. (Even to this day, some things still do not click, and i hate it).

When i hit about second grade, i had to take a huge test in the speech class, to see where my IQ was at. It was always low, and i had to keep going, along with R-1, til about fourth grade. And each year or so, i had to take these tests to determine if i am learning anything, and where my IQ was at.
I hated these tests. I clearly remember some of the tests and I'm not sure why they stick inside of me. But, back in second grade, i think it was, i had to take the long test, which took almost all day, and some of the tests consisted of, putting a puzzle together, putting blocks into the right shapes and etc.
Maybe i liked it, and why it sticks, but I'm still unclear why they come up. Maybe it was because for once in my life, i had someone who was nice to me, and was trying to help me,(even thought they are not suppose to), and didn't say any harsh words to me, when i couldn't get it.
Maybe that is why, i keep these memories, because of what i said, and that the guy was really nice, and wanted to help, instead of being obliged to do it. Either way, these are some of the old memories i can remember, but they feel, like it was only a mere fantasy. Like i made it up in a way,because of how the memories get, when they have been in you, for so long.

After the so many tests, after so many lessons i had to do, on top of my homework, i got frustrated and school wasn't easy for me. I didn't have any friends, and i was lonely. Until, about fifth grade, i met a good friend, who accepted me for who i was. I was really happy in that department, but the speech lessons were getting bad.
The speech teacher didn't want to come to my classes, which was our arrangement since she only had so many kids now, and that it was suppose to help me, not get so much homework. Plus, it was also to only help, when i needed it, and nothing else. But of course the teacher didn't do that.
She made me come to her, most of the time, and when she did come to the class room, she never helped me. And it was suppose to be for me and only me. I would complain to my mother about this, because i was getting frustrated and thought it was wrong, that i needed help, and i wasn't getting it.

I remember one day, in fifth grade. That was when we started having two teachers a day, switching halfway through the day, and my English teacher, who was my second teacher for that year, was on English subject,(one of my worse subjects), and we had this huge review to do. And i needed help a lot, and i didn't get it. I sat there through the whole time, trying to do it, and the teacher says, "okay everyone go outside and play, but Ashley you stay there and do your work."
That really upset me, because i wanted a break. I wanted to play, but i was alienated. I had to do the work,still.. and the speech teacher didn't help. All they did was,make me sit in a corner and do it. I cried when i got home, telling my mother what happened.
For once my mother was angry, and she had a conference with the whole school. She wanted a school board meeting for me, to get me out of speech, and such. Boy, was that day, hard on me.

It was about march or so, that mom had the meeting, and everyone was there, both my teachers, the speech teacher, principals and etc. And my mom started it, saying she wanted me out of speech.
All of them opposed against mom, but one teacher. My fifth grade teacher, who i had in the beginning of the day, spoke up, and said, that she hasn't put me on any grading scale(which teachers had to do, since i was behind and couldn't learn). And said, that i was doing really well in school.

After about three hours of talking and mom cussing everyone but my one teacher out, i finally got out of speech. I remember mom coming out, all happy, and with a huge folder of everything i have done, and papers to get me out of speech.

that day, i was proud of my mother. I was proud to call her my mother, because for an instance she really did care about my well being. For once, she stood up for me, when everyone wanted to coddle me. I am grateful to her, that i went through the speech classes and the others, and for her helping me in some ways. If i didn't have that in my life, i don't think i would be writing this out.

I always wonder why my mother stood up for me, that day. I still wonder why she did all these things, if she truly hated me, if she really didn't want me as her child. So, i wonder why she even did this in the first place, was it because it wasn't to show any acts of kindness, and when i got of an age, to leave? Or did for an instance she loved me? I will never know that, and i guess i will have to accept it as that.

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