Breakin' 3- Breaking Me

So for those of you who were alive in the 80's and for those of you who know me. You know I love the Breakin' movie series. There was the original, "Breakin" where Turbo, Ozone and Kelly took to the streets and even a beach where Jean-Claude Van Damme can be seen in the background trying to get freaky too. So, then in "Breakin' 2- Electric Boogaloo. (which that title alone should make you want to watch it) the original gang is back to save "Miracles" this neighborhood kids club in the ghetto. And "hot-tot" and "baby-legs" are also in this movie. The point is I love these movies, but this blog has nothing to do with that, I just needed the reference for my blog title.


For those of you who do not know. I am an asshole, a bitch, I'm loud, obnoxious, annoying, I'm Jayda. At the end of the day, it's a defense mechanism. I know it is. I have known this for a long time. I had a messed up childhood (like a lot of people) I started "changing" me and what I was to people at a very young age. From about 2nd grade on I remember telling people my mom was a flight attendant. In reality, she was a street pharmacist, and sometimes a bartender. I knew this, but, I didn't want others to know it. When I was little I used to think everyone had a mom and a dad and their lives were wonderful. Huge mistake. Had I known the way things really are. I would have just laid my "bad hand" out at that time. Maybe not so harshly, but knowing me, maybe I would have. Over time, people slowly found out the real truth. I guess it's hard to keep up a lie forever. One time, I was in 3rd grade, I went to Summit Elementary in Rancho Cucamonga. At the time, my mother was with my brother Jacob's dad. His name is Fred. At the time, I knew he and my mother were on drugs, and at the time I knew he hit my mom, I did not know however that he had schizophrenia. I knew he would just go off sometimes, but I didn't know why. So, back to my tale. So there was this little girl across the street named Sabrina Murphy, she had a little brother named Justin, he was my brother Jansen's age. So it was nice that we had friends too play with, although I did always try to either play outside or over at her house. Anyhow, my mother one day asked if I would like Sabrina and Justin to spend the night with Jansen and I. I did, but I was afraid of what she would see or hear, or maybe worse find out my mom was not a flight attendant. ( This girl knew my mom did not leave for a job, she lived right across the street from me??) I am really stupid. So I told my mom, I was concerned that it wasn't a good idea because of her and Fred. My mother assured me that things with her and Fred were going very well and it would be fine. So I said okay. Sabrina and Justin came over, and the night went well, my mom made dinner, we played and laughed and had a great time. Fred wasn't there the whole time, I am not sure where he was. So we all went to sleep. At 1:16 a.m. Fred came home. He slammed the front door, which woke us all up, Sabrina was in my room with me, as soon as I heard the door, my heart sank, he went pass my door, down the hall to where he and my mother's room was. He started screaming at her. Calling her names accusing her of things. I froze. The fear I felt was not because of Fred, I never feared him like my mom did anyhow. My fear was that my secret was out. But it got worse, I began to hear thrashing, banging, things being knocked over, crying, I heard my mother plead with him "Please stop, the kids have friends over" and still not a tear rolled down my face. Sabrina was crying, Justin and Jansen and I went into the living room maybe because it was farthest from my mom's room, I don't know. Then the door to my mom's room opened. Fred drug my mother down the hall by her hair, she was bleeding, she was crying, he was calling her names and he shoved her a couple times. I remember the look I gave him. I wanted to kill him. He looked at me, he asked me if I wanted some too? I shook my head. All I could think about at that time was, "How could he do this in front of Sabrina and Justin?" Some of this night is a blur. I don't remember when he stopped parading my mother around back and forth in front of the four of us, but I do remember when he went out into the garage and my mother went into the bathroom to clean off her face, I ran in after her and she was balling, she looked like hell, it wasn't the first time I saw her beat-up, and it also wasn't the last. I looked at her, and I was mad at her, the thoughts in my head were racing, "how could she let this happen?" "why did she lie and say Fred was OK?" Sabrina came to the bathroom door and said, "I want to go home now" I wish I could have gone with her. My mom told her "just a minute" I watched Sabrina pack up her stuff and she didn't say a word to me. And I watched her walk out the door, she didn't even speak to me. I was mortified. It was the weekend and school was 2 days away. I hoped and prayed Sabrina would tell no one of what went down at my house. But she did, at the time it seemed like everyone knew. I was so hurt by her for saying anything, but as I look back on it now, I'm more hurt for my mom. As much as me and my mom have reversed rolls, and we fight, I really I am better off with out her. I cannot even imagine the humiliation and shame she must have felt walking Justin and Sabrina home after 2 o'clock in the morning, knocking on their door and having to show her face, there was no denying what had happened to her, and she had to apologize for getting beat-up in front of their kids. I didn't think about that for years. Now, like many things in my life it haunts me. I feel horribly for my mother, she cried out that we had friends there. I can't imagine the embarrassment, well, maybe I can. We didn't live there too much longer after that, and I was never friends with Sabrina again. She always looked at me differently. My brother Jansen doesn't even remember this, my mom does though, we've talked about it many times.


So, now having wrote this, when I start treatment on Monday, and all these stories and wrongs and bad things come out. Will I not be the same Jayda anymore? Will there be no reason to smart-off and make rude and snarky comments about people because I won't be as broken anymore? I still want to be the same me. Less broken of course, but I fear it will really change who I am to my core, because my childhood and my parents, and all these stories made me the broken person who sits here writing this story today. This is the thought that has been occupying mind today, well this and the Royal wedding. ;) See I'm still me.