Caroline Peoples

Depraved (Pt. 9), by Caroline Peoples

The only thing my father taught me was that you can exist denying what you are supposed to love. Normally girls like me search for a father figure and often search for the love not received from daddy from other men. I’ve never searched for that love. My dad never gave me love so there never was never a void. No space left open needing to be filled. It’s true you can’t miss what you never had. I’ve never been close to a man and have always had a distaste for how men go about feeling superior to women. I have never listened to what a man told me and never believed a damn word out of their mouths. I knew at an early age that men wanted me to feel like they could solve my problems and the solution was always a hard penis. I have always been pretty even now at 41 scarred up, missing teeth, and dark circles I am still sexy. I still turn heads and still get upset when people want to have sex with me. I have been celibate for several years now but I like sex . Well if I don’t initiate it I get offended. I want to get married. The woman I am now could actually make someone else happy despite my past so I would like to share that. I feel so many possibilities within my reach but often times I keep my hands in my pockets sort of speak not wanting to reach out and feel the joy. I am content to observe it. To know it’s there and never touch it, like a beautiful painting worth millions of dollars behind velvet ropes. I own this joy that I am content to watch it, feel the energy from it without ruining the moment by adding myself fully into it. I am so rough that I don’t know how to be soft, tender, or gentle. It feels like I’m missing so many things that make up a woman yet womanhood is spectacular and I wear womanhood well. It looks good on me but like a wool coat it doesn’t always feel as good as it looks. I was told by my mitigator that I was a psychopath and with all sincerity she said this to me wanting me to understand myself, to see what she saw, what was, but I still can’t see that inside of me because I feel. I care about too much. I am not detached from reality I am in possession of it. The difference is degree. I have never been who I was or who I am but who I will be is the me I embrace because it is the only me that makes sense. Like a mathematical equation the sum is what you really care about not how you got it. Although the computing of it can be phenomenal it still ends up being about the sum. So all of me in it’s totality is what I focus on. I don’t spend too much time focusing on moments, getting stuck in times of triumph or defeat so that I can get to my sum. Now the real question is will I get there in this lifetime? I won’t even spend time wondering about that because it keeps me in one place too long. One thought too long. One emotion too long.
I didn’t have anything in society but we survived on the little bit I could get my hands on. When you are young you don’t know the difference between wants and needs. If you have never had anything wants and needs are one in the same. Trying to get both at the same time will make somebody from my demographics work a job in the daytime and at night do whatever needed to be done for your family. When ” normal ” people are asleep you are out in the streets. Not because you want to be out there but because It is what you know. It is the only thing you know how to do and your only option. It is either that or die in poverty. Everyday you struggle to survive. If you can get 50 extra cents you do it. For me in the city of Chicago at the age of 7 I was already victimized so going out there to the streets at 13 did not scare me at all. I’d already been through it all before I had a menstrual cycle. It’s something that happens to a child’s mind when a grown man is raping them. It is terrifying , sickening, and confusing multiplied infinity. Therefore I am not a monster although I have done some monstrous things. I am what the monsters made. My sister chose a life of crack cocaine to cover her scars and violence covered mine.

Need a break so to be continued …

Caroline Peoples
DOC #163969


Categories: Caroline Peoples

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