An Open Letter to Usually Smart People Making Stupid Choices

Photo credit by vwt3jeff on Flickr

Dear DUI Driver,

If you could dig around in my memory bank, you would see that my life between the ages of 6 and 17, when I ran away from home, were years filled with rape, molestation, verbal, mental, and physical abuse including having been stabbed with knives, pencils, and incurring several broken bones and concussions. You would see that one side of my face is flatter than the other because of one terrific blow by someone much bigger and stronger than me.

None of that would have happened if my birth father had not been killed by a DUI driver when I was 5 1/2. My father had been meticulously planning the "kidnapping" of my brother and myself for months because his wife was horribly sick and refused to acknowledge that she needed any help.

He first became aware of her insanity after coming home on a lunch break and saw that my monstrous Egg Donor had duck-taped my 2 year old body and mouth to a chair because I was "being too loud" that day. When I was 3, she burned down a Christmas tree in our house because she had recently taken up being a Jehovah's Witness and didn't believe Christmas should be observed. My father had disagreed and insisted that his kids were having Christmas and he would not hamper Santa Claus' visit - so Dad got a tree and the bought presents himself. Those, too, were burned. To this day I can still smell the smoke coming from under the closet door where I had hidden my baby brother and myself. A neighbor came to our rescue and called Dad and 911.

My father began coming home at irregular intervals during the work day to make sure we were safe and having his siblings drop by for coffee unexpectedly. That stifled her abuse for a little while, but the bruises he saw at bath time on my younger brother and me testified to the Egg Donor's continuing violence. He tried for years to get her help, but nothing worked. Finally, he realized she was not only a lost cause, but also a psychopath with the potential to kill his children.

According to my Grandma (Daddy's mom), Daddy was 2 weeks away from from our escape from this bat shit crazy woman when he was murdered on his way to help his mother with a plumbing issue in her kitchen sink. The driver did not suffer any physical damage and served a mere 6 months for manslaughter.

Selfish, selfish Egg Donor started calling Dad's life insurance company within hours of his being put on life support and satisfied that she would have quite the inheritance, pulled out his plugs the next day.

My father's worst nightmares proved prophetic and even more devastating. Stupid, skull-cracking Egg Donor married a stupid, violent, drunk step-father within a year. Thus was my life given over to a cruel Fate until I was old enough and strong enough to run away from the chaos and save my own life. Two decades later I still bear the physical and emotional scarring of those 11 years, but I became a warrior upon discovering that my father fought hard for me and lost his life too soon to complete his ultimate act of championing his kids. I learned of his "kidnapping" story when I was 17 and knowing that I had SOMEONE who loved me that much gave me the strength and resilience to get through the aftermath of Egg Donor's and Step-Father's pillaging of my soul.

As for you, I know for a fact that your DUI last month was not your first time driving under the influence of alcohol and drugs for I have seen it for myself and taken away your keys; this was simply the first time you got caught by the police. You rationalize your recent actions to yourself and anyone who will listen by saying that you weren't pulled over for swerving or reckless driving, but rather for having a broken signal light. According to you, you weren't endangering anyone, you were only guilty of poor car maintenance.

I would easily give up my current life and beloved family in return for having had a safe and loving childhood. Bowser knows this, understands, and says if he was me he'd feel the same way. Even though it would most likely mean that he and I would never have met, he would do anything to take away the paralyzing PTSD attacks and nightmares that leave me sobbing in my sleep until he wakes me up and holds me until I find our here and now.

I pray that you will take your past, present, and future actions seriously and not allow your choices to cause another young girl and boy a fate like ours. Because, old friend, it is not always about you.

Yours,