You see Valerie today.  Happy housewife, living in a beautiful house in the suburbs with her husband, dog and cat, author of two books.  Well this is all reasonably true, but it is far from where I started.  I must say, I struggled with deciding whether to include a story of my life, however brief, however sketchy, but I feel I owe it to my readers to know, that my life was not always this happy housewife in the suburbs.

I was born in Worcester, MA.  I had an older brother and sister.  My dad worked as a milkman and my mother was a 50's housewife.  We lived in a housing project built specifically for WWII vets.  And, that is how it started.  Then, six months later a tornado, that became the landmark of the Worcester, MA, violently took my mother's life as she protected my brother and sister on a bus as she came home from buying supplies for my sister's birthday party. 

For the following year and a half, we children were shuffled from relative, to friend, to orphanage.  In those times there was no day care, and it was difficult, if not impossible for a single man to take care of three small children.  When I was not quite two, my dad married a woman named Mary, the same name as my mother's.  Maybe he thought the fact that since she had the same name, that she would be as good as my real mother.  Any way, he needed someone to take care of us as he went out and worked.  It turned out this woman had severe emotional problems and would daily abuse my sister and I.  Mostly I, because I was at home with her alone during the day.  This abuse occurred daily, it included being punched at and stomped on.  Beat with iron mop sticks.  Locked in rooms and/or outside for hours on end.  Being made to watch others eat, while standing in the corner and starving for hours on end.  She would wake me up in the middle of the night and either made do housework, or just stand in the hallway after being told that a monster would come and get me if I moved.  I believed my dad did not see these events, although occasionally he would bring my siblings and I into the basement and say he was planning on leaving her.  I would wait for that day to happen, but instead if I told the truth of why I had bruises on my body, or why I was so tired during the day, he generally stood on her side.

One of the reasons why my dad said that he couldn't move out was because she kept his money and he had no money for a down payment on an apartment.  Therefore, I worked and saved my money and when I graduated from high school, I told him that we could move out (by now my sister was married and my brother had moved out on his own.).  So, my father and I rented an apartment.  I knew he missed her from the first week we were there, when he called her once or twice a day.  Then, only a few months after we had moved in, in his frustration, he beat me to the point of partial unconsciousness.  I knew if he beat me again, I could die.  I called my best friend and asked to move out with her.

Before I moved in with my friend, I made three rules: 1.  No sex.  2.  No drugs.  3.  Stay in school.  I am proud to say I generally kept to those rules, but there were many others to be broken.  Since, we both had little money, we moved into a rooming house -- which turned out to be a drug house.  Everyone there, dealt drugs, did drugs and had lots of sex.  Of course, this was the 70's, and those things went on a bit more frequently than they do now.  In a way, everyone looked up to me, because I went to school and I worked.  Something they didn't do.  I would put earplugs in my ears as I studied and as people in the house played loud rock and roll music and strangers passed through the rooms.  Then, one day, the landlord came around with a shot gun and asked us to leave that very same day.  My friend decided to go to New York with a boy friend, and I was left homeless.  I moved from friend's home to friend's home.  Sleeping on the floor, under tables, on couches.  Then, one miraculous day, I ran into my cousin.  She must have noticed my dire straights because she asked me to move in with her.  Now, she was pregnant, and on welfare with two small children.  But, she took me in.  An act, I will be eternally grateful.  She took care of me while I struggled to hold down a job and stay in school and while I struggled to find some place of my own to live.  Which I did with a roommate.  But, of course, still not being the best judge of people, this roommate did not pay her share of the rent and would frequently have many people over.  One night, after she had moved out, I had a space heater a little bit too close to my bed and it caught on fire.  Thank goodness I had a dog, who woke me  with her barking and I was able to put the fire out.  Then, with little money to pay for heat, the pipes froze and cracked.  The entire apartment became flooded.  I had to move out immediately -- thank goodness again, my cousin took me in. 

After I finished college, I moved to Boston, then Cambridge, and fell in love with a guy from New York where I also eventually moved.  During this time, I worked as a temp or permanent secretary.  I was pretty bored, but at least I made enough money to pay the rent and buy some food.

After my relationship with the guy from New York ended, I moved back to Worcester, where I was lonely, but obtained a good job as a Clerical Instructor with Disabled Adults.  I stayed there three years, the longest I had ever been anywhere.  I loved the job, the clients loved me and they also learned from the program I developed.   But, after three years, I felt I had done all I could there, and left the job, and worked temp again for a while.  When I was at a computer company typing Technical Reports, one of the writers left.  I told my manager I could do that job.  He had faith in me, gave me the job and my salary immediately doubled.  I went to school for Technical Writing and enjoyed that career for many years, until I decided, I wanted to do more with my life and started writing Surviving Unemployment.

Of course, I have left out many details of my life here, but as you can see, like many of you, I am a survivor.  One who has learnt that with a bit of knowledge, solving any immediate problems, living each day fully, going after what I wanted and using affirmations and meditations to get over the humps -- I learned to live life fully and have many happy times.