My Life Story
I heard about this site from a friend who has similar problems as me. I've never really put everything down in one place before, but there's a first time for everything. So, here goes my life story as best as I can tell it. All the ups and downs. Sadly, it's mostly downs. 17 years of every emotion that could be felt is here;
June 24th, 1993 I came into this world. My parents were in their late 20's and already had two daughters. But what I didn't know was my oldest sister, whom is 12 years older then me, wasn't my mother's. My dad got a 15 year old pregnat when he was 17. When she was a baby her mom left her and my momma raised her like she was her own. When I found out it didn't really phase me. She was still my sister.
I matured pretty quick and had little time to run around outside, do gymnastics or have any imaginary friends like a normal kid. I was pretty smart and I knew something wasn't right with my momma. She was diegnosed with juvinile diabetes when she was 6 years old, which is something that never goes away. That was just the start of her health problems. Both of her kidneys and her pancreas failed. She was sick all the time. I became so comfortable at the hospital I new all the nurses by name. I could tell you the names of her medicine and what they were for. I could locate every bathroom on every floor. I could tell you what and what not to get on tuesdays in the cafateria. I found a new home.
As a young child I heard the last rights being read to my mother by our preist multiple times. I have had to say 'goodbye' to her more times then anyone should have to think 'this is the last time I will ever see you'.
Through the stress of my momma's detereorating health at home things were tense. My dad worked a lot and my sisters took care of me basically morning through night. I worshiped my sisters, especailly my oldest. She was a senior in high school and I wanted to be just like her. I slept in her bed almost every night. Just to be near her I felt like flying. She was my world, and admitadly, still is.
She started acting out her Junior year of high school. She got kicked off of the volley ball team because she got caught smoking. When my parents found out my mom punched her in the nose and told her to pack her things and 'get the fuck out'. And she was gone. She hardly visited. And now my sister who is only two years older then me took on the job of substatute mom. She woke me up for school, got me dressed and fed, helped me with my home work and made sure I got to bed at a decent hour (most of the time).
My sister leaving the house was just the first of a domino effect of aweful accurences in my life. First, my dad got stressed. With money and having to deal with us and mom being sick, so he did something easy. He picked on the ones who wouldn't fight him. We adored him, so he knew we wouldn't mind. He hit us. Well, he hit them. I know I didn't get the worst of it. My older sisters were his punching bags. I would hear them screaming in the back rooms of the house. Hear flesh on flesh, heads hitting walls, hair being pulled, 'please stop...' over and over. I just sat there, rocking back and fourth and saying, 'I'm glad it's not me.' Looking back now, I wish I would have taken every single one of those beatings so they didn't have to feel the pain.
Besides my sisters, the woman I adored most in this world was my nana, my mom's mom. She would watch my sister and I all the time. She was basically another mother. And she would never say it, but we were her favorite of her 22 grand children. Then one day she was in the hospital. Then another, without warning, I said goodbye to her. It was April. She took a peice of me down with her when they put her underground. She was there, and then she wasn't. I was eight years old and I wanted to die too.
It was raining. Not that hard, but my bare feet were frozen on the wet ground. I walked in the middle of the country road where I lived, and hated so much. I laid down and waited. I waited and waited and waited. Nothing came. The cold was too much. I told myself, 'another day... I'll be with Nana another day'.
Things started looking up, but only for a short while. My momma had been on the donor list for a new kidney and pancreas for a while and we got a call one day. They found a match. The surgery went smoothly. She still had to go to doctor's appointments a lot but the visits were getting shorter and not as frequent. Then one day she came home sad. The kidney and pancreas failed. She was at the bottom of the waiting list again.
The physical abuse from Dad turned into mental and emotional. And it wasn't just his girls this time, he took it out on Momma too. He pushed her, yelled at her, called her names. I watched. I didn't do anything. But really, what could I do?
One night Momma was in the hospital. Dad came home, angry as usual. That morning he told us to clean our room but it wasn't done when he came home. He grabbed my sister by the hair and dragged her into our room. I heard her head slamming into the wall. I heard her screaming. I heard him yelling. I didn't want to listen anymore. I was laying in the living room with my english home work in front of me. I kept saying in my head 'I'm in third grade, I'm doing my homework, I'm fine. I'm in third grade, I'm doing my homework, I'm fine.' Then I heard the pounding stop. He came out of our room and picked me up by the belt loop of my pants and threw me against the kitchen island. Then he grabbed me by the hair and threw me against the dishwasher and kicked me in the stomach. He grabbed me by the hair again and tossed me in our room. He yelled for another five minutes then walked out of our room. My sister and I have these 'sister brainwaves'. We don't really ever say 'I love you' out loud. We just look at each other for a long time and we know. She looked at me with red eyes. I stopped crying. Then we went back to folding our clothes and never spoke about it again.
As my fourth grade year came to a close my uncle did an amazing thing. He gave my momma his kidney. It was a perfect match and still works today.
For about three years life was filled with minor ups and downs. I think I forgot to mention, when I was eight we started family therapy. That's when I was first diegnosed with depression. When I was tweleve it became severe, which was the same time things got bad again.
We were all in the kitchen. Momma wasn't making dinner right. He threw hot greese on Momma and I and when my sister stepped in he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her up against the wall. My mom called the cops but he left before they got there. My sister and I moved into seperate rooms upstairs and when the cops came I snuck out of my room and watched from the stair well. I couldn't really hear anything but I wondered why they didn't want to talk to me. I was there too. And that's when I got really sick.
I started doing things just for attention. Making up stories, lieing about the littlest things and it even got to the point where I was cutting myself for attention. My best friend started cutting herself and everyone was so worried about her. They told her that they loved her over and over and told the school counsler so she had someone to talk to. When I did it I showed one of my friends and all she said was, 'what did you do it with'? I told her, 'A thumb tack.' Her reply was, 'Ouch.' That was it. No one cared.
That's when I tried to commit suicide for the second time. I was thirteen years old. Looking back I don't think I really wanted to do it, it was just another cry for attention. My favorite song was on the raido when I was sitting in the bath tub. I held the radio over the water, then the song ended. 'Another day...' I said to myself again.
Back to what happened with my dad... He started staying with my grandparents. My mom asked my sister and I if she should stay with him, which is a really unfair thing to do. I said, 'leave him'. After two weeks of him being gone she made up her mind. Dad moved back in. I was livid. I told him up front that I wasn't going to listen to anything he said if he moved back in. But like every promise I made back then, I couldn't keep it.
Through the years my oldest sister was pretty rebellious and didn't spend a lot of time with us. Then she found a really nice guy with a fucked up past as well. They decided to start over in Idaho. At the time I was pretty upset but thinking about it now, I don't know why she didn't do it sooner.
She went to nursing school and got her degree. We were going over to watch her graduate and she when she called to invite us she had some other news, she was pregnat. 9 months later she gave birth to a beautiful little boy. My nephew became my world. But he was so far away... That's the part that hurt the most. And it still does to this day.
When I entered high school I had a set group of friends that I was going to have forever. I was so worried about being cool nothing else mattered. Everyone had to know my name. I wore Hollister and Abercrombie, just like all the popular girls. The only thing holding me back from ultimate popularity was my love for the performing arts. My school's drama department was holding autidions for 'The Sound of Music'. I told my friends I wanted to try out and they told me, 'If you try out for the musical I will never speak to you again.' I didn't audition.
Sophmore year a friend of mine told me that he liked me. At first I was a bit taken back, but I finally got around to the idea of us being together. And of course by that time he was over me. After playing this cat and mouse game for a few months we finally met in the middle. He asked me to be his girlfriend and with a smile I said, 'Yes... I will be your girlfriend.'
We went to homecoming together and that's when he kissed me for the first time. Butterflies filled my stomach and it was like they were all on LSD. We kissed again, and again, then we danced over and over. The dance was over, we kissed goodbye. It was pretty much a perfect night. Two days later he texted me saying, 'I don't really want a girlfriend right now.' I was kind of torn up. Like the crazy girl I was, I had planned a lot for us. He was known to have girlfriends for at least 3 months. I thought, this could be my high school romance. I cried, listened to a few sad songs, then I got over it. I still liked him and watched idily by as he dated a bitch. And she was honestly, the biggest bitch I ever met. I have no idea what he saw in her, but we were over and I was prettier then her.(;
So in the midst of all this boy drama I was having friend drama as well. My best friend at the time and I started having these stupid fights. We wouldn't talk for two days then we'd make up. Oh, and I failed to mention that all my friends hated my boyfriend of 4 days. Especially my best friend. They had a 'thing' before we started dating. I thought my friends would be supportive, but they weren't. They held grudges because he was kind of a jerk, I will admit. But still, I liked him. They should have been happy for me.
When we broke up we still talked. He told me that he liked me but he just wanted to be single. Which I was cool with. I thought if I let him go he would come back. But as I told you before, he started dating a bitch a few months later. One of my friends, probobly the one with the most hatred twards him, lived just down the street from him, so my ex and I made a plan; His parents would be gone for the weekend so I would sneek over and we planned on having sex. We would both be loosing our virginity to each other. The plan was bullet proof.
The night before this 'plan' there was a varsity football game. While all of my friends were hanging out with their 'boy-things' mine was on the feild making touch downs. I felt like kind of a hard ass knowing that the next night I would be doing a varsity football star. Like every high school movie. I was the cheerleader, he was the varsity stud. It would be perfect.
The day before I had another pity fight with my best friend. At the game we made up and to test our friendship once more I confided in her about our plan. Instead of being exited that I was going to loose my virginty or congratulating me on my badassness like I thought she would she said, 'I can't even look at you right now. You disgust me.' I just started bawling. And my other best friend's boyfriend, who I was becoming close friends with, saw me. He wrapped me in a hug and told me it would all me okay. He stood there with me until I stopped shaking.
Finally, the day came. We were texting all day. He was being so cute and telling me he cleaned his room just for me and asked if I wanted candles or anything. I laughed and said, I'm good on the candle front. Then while I was at my friends house he texted me and told said, 'bad news, babe. my parents aren't leaving. we can't do it tonight.' I was pretty bummed. I really thought that night would be the night. I wouldn't be a little girl anymore. I was gunna fuck a varsity football player. But I shrugged it off. There would be other moments. As if the message wasn't enough bad news, I wasn't the first one to read it. My friend who hated him with a burning passion got to my phone first. She asked me about it and I told her, 'Oh, he's just being a pig.' So then she starts texting him on my phone saying 'I hate you' and 'You're disgusting' blah, blah, blah... Eventually I got my phone back and told him it wasn't me saying all those nasty things.
When morning came I had a new text on my phone. It was from my friend's boyfriend asking if I was okay. I told him that I was and we talked for a little while. I went home and slept for the rest of the day. I woke up on Monday morning and felt like complete shit so I stayed home. But since I was home it allowed rummors and gossip to run wild with no filter. Me not going to school that day ruined my teenage girl life.
On Tuesday when I made it back to school no one would talk to me. I had no one. All my friends left me. From other people I heard stories, like I left my friends house and had a threesome, I was 'sexting' my best friend's boyfriend and I was a cold hearted bitch who only cared about herself. I guess I own up to the last part.
I apologized to all my 'friends' for all the things I didn't do and they didn't take it very well. They started harrassing me through myspace and then the blogs started. They posted them saying what a bitch I was and how I was a horrible friend and a liar and whore... The list went on and on. Then people commented it. People who weren't nessisarily my friends, but we were nice to each other. And people I didn't even know were saying, 'She's such a bitch. She got what was coming to her...' And other nasty things. I would read them every night before I went to bed. I couldn't help myself. I felt worthless. I tried to confide in my ex, but he ditched me too. I had never been so alone in my life.
Since I had nothing to loose, I made a big decision. I tried out for the school play. It was 'Macbeth'. I had never done a play before, let alone performed Shakepeare. But I knew I had to do it. It was my only shot at happiness. When I auditioned I wanted the part of a witch, but I knew I probobly wasn't going to get it since I was new. The drama director always put new people in minor parts just to get to know them a little better then the next show he would have a better place for them if they were good. When the cast list came out I got the roll of 'Messenger'. It wasn't a witch but I got a part. I was still overjoyed.
At that time my mom was visiting her sister in Spokane. My uncle was sick so she was helping her out. I texted my mom and told her the good news. She texted me back and said, 'Good job hunny! I am so proud of you!' I didn't know it at the time, but eleven minutes prior to her sending that message my uncle died.
When my sister and I got home my dad told us the news. I don't know why, but I didn't cry. I never cried about it. I just continued my day. I checked my myspace and got another harassing message from an anonomas person. The message went on and on saying that no one loves me and I am going to die alone. They told me how disgusting I was and that I'll never find anyone to put up with me. That's when I made the choice for the last time. I was going to kill myself.
No one was home that night. What was different about this time was I wrote letters. But I didn't write them to my sisters or my friends. I wrote them to the people who didn't know how I felt about them and I wrote one to my three 'best friend's telling them that it was their fault and I hope that they won't be able to sleep at night knowing my blood was on their hands. I signed each one, 'I'm with Kurt Cobain today.'
The time came. I walked into my parents room and found my dad's hand gun. It was dark so the sliding glass door I stood in front of was like a mirror. I watched as I put the gun to my temple, like a movie. I didn't put my finger on the trigger but I kept twitching, like I was trying to but I just couldn't. I looked in the window again. I really saw myself with a gun in my hand. I paniced. I threw the gun back in the drawer, closed it and went right to bed.
A few weeks went by and the thought of suicide crossed my mind every day. I didn't act on it again, though. I would build up my bravery at school then I'd be home alone at night and I'd loose it.
One morning I felt something nudge my leg and it woke me up. I had fallen asleep on the couch the night before. It was my sister. She had my suicide notes in her hand. I immediately started crying. She called my mom, my mom called my therapist and she told my mom to take me to the emergency room. I thought they were just going to talk to me and draw blood at the most just to make sure if my medication was alright. I had no idea what the protacal was for a suicidal teenager. But I found out that night. I was admited to a psych ward. I was there for 5 days. I wanted to stay longer, but before I could say anything all my stuff was packed and I was walking out the door. I knew I wasn't ready but my parents were so exited to bring me home. I made a lot of friends and memories there. Honestly, I would do it again in a heartbeat if I could. It may sound strange, but those were the best 5 days of my life. It doesn't sound like much, but you'd be surprised what 5 days in a loony bin can do to you. All you do is talk about your problems and it's completely okay. It's what you're suposed to do. It was so easy there... Like breathing.
When I got back I had two requests; go out to lunch and go to school so I could see my two remaining friends and my two favorite teachers. My parents and I went to Red Robin, my favorite resturaunt EVER. It was so bright and loud compared to inside the hospital walls. I got an aweful headache.
I brought my 'Macbeth' script to the hospital with me and my mom said it was okay that I go to rehearsal after school. With 5 minutes left in the school day I ran to my 5th period that I just happened to have with my two best friends and one of my favorite teachers. She knows a lot about me and my sister told her where I was so I was so exited to see her.
I burst in the doorway and my friend looked up and yelled my name. I ran to her and wrapped her in my arms. She asked me if I was okay and I told her, 'I'm wonderful, now.' I hugged my other friend who I have known since we were two. And I didn't know it then, but my mom told her mom and she told my friend. Awesome, mom.
My teacher asked if she could see me in the hall for a minute. She gave me a big hug and told me, 'if you need anything, you let me know.' I told her I would.
After the bell rang I wanted to run to rehearsal but I wanted to do one thing just a little more, see my english teacher. My sister also told her where I was. My best friend came with me. We talked for a little while then we both had to go. My friend walked me to rehearsal. I didn't want to tell her because I knew it would kill her. I wanted to wait. I wanted to give myself time to digest it before I let anyone else know. But another promise broken, I told her. I could see the hurt in her eyes and sadness bleeding through her soul. Her ride pulled up and she said, 'we're talking about this tomorrow.'
I went to rehearsal and I got a whirl-wind of 'where have you been?!'s. The best thing I could think of was, 'Away. I was just away.' Then the drama director wanted to talk to me. He just wanted to know if I was okay and allowed me to be very vauge about my absence. Then he told me that 'Witch 1' dropped out and asked me if I was up for taking the part. And of course, without hesitation I said 'hell yeah!'
The next week was great. I loved being back home and everyone was nice to me but that quickly went away. My sister took my phone and locked herself in the bathroom. I tried to break down the door with the full intention of killing her. I was so disgusted with what I had done I went upstairs and cut myself. But it felt good this time and it became an addiction. I continued to cut on my thighs so no one would see. Somehow my mom found out and I told her I would stop, but it's not that easy. It was like a drug. I needed it to function. My blade didn't judge me, it didn't tell me I was worthless, it didn't stare, it just sat there. It was there whenever I needed it. I was in love. Yes, I was in love with a blade.
Some days I wanted to stop. I would cry for hours. I finally realized that my blade didn't love me back. I wanted real love. I wanted warmth. My sister had a friend that had a hard childhood and went through a substance abuse problem and we had recently become close so I began to confide in him. It was never anything romantic, he was like my big brother. He was my rock in the tumultuous sea that was my life. He was the first person I actually felt love me. When he said it, I believed him. He constantly told me how much he loved me and that he cared for me. He would go on and on about my smile and that when I smiled it gave him hope. He told me how beautiful I was, inside and out and how things would get better and that I didn't deserve what was happening to me. And he told me, no, he promised me that he would never leave me and he would be there forever, no matter what.
Pretty soon I had a ritual. Wake up at 6:30 AM, go to school, come home, cut, talk to him, go to sleep at 4 AM. Every day this is how I lived until he didn't answer me. I felt a void building between us. He assured me it was nothing and that he loved me too much to just ditch. Apparently not.
He didn't pack up and leave all at once, though. He would come in and out for weeks at a time. At this time he was trying to get me to stop cutting and I would always keep him updated on how long I had gone without it. The days started adding up then the weeks and soon it turned into a month. I had gone a month without harming myself. I was so proud and I knew he would be too. I approached him at school and I told him, "It's been a month." And he just nodded. I asked him, "Do you know what I'm talking about?" He said, "Yeah, I know." With nothing but bordom in his eyes. I went home that night and cut myself. Right then I knew I was loosing him.
I developed aweful anxiety. The one thing I knew for sure would always be there just dissapeared. No warning, just... Gone. That's when it happened. A hole. A gaping hole appeared in my chest. The edges were raw, they burned. I felt it all day every day. There was no escaping it.
There was no way I could aproach him. If I even saw him I would stop breathing and the hole would devour my entire body. Sometimes I would just go into my history teacher's class room, sit behind her desk and cry. Just wail until my lungs wouldn't let me anymore.
When summer hit my sister threw a party. I got drunk and made a complete ass out of myself in front of him. I started screaming bloody murder wishing I would die. He carried me to bed but I didn't stay for there for long. I took a pair of scissors and made two lines across my wrist. My sister saw and I had an 'intervention'. Then he took me up to bed again and he laid there with me. I asked him if I could feel my heart beat. He nodded, not really knowing what that meant and I pressed my ear to his chest and there it was, my heart beating under his ribcage. Dispite how it ended, that was probobly the worst night of my life.
In August my best friend was performing in the talent show at the county fair. Her act was singing and playing guitar. Before she went on she got really nervous so we practiced for like two hours before she went on. While we were sitting there she looked up and saw him. I called his name and ran to him. He opened his arms and I dove into his chest. It felt like we were hugging for hours. I stood there just breathing him in. Feeling him, there. It's sickening how happy I was.
We started talking and he just seemed different. His eyes, the way he stood and talked. He wasn't the brother I once knew so well.
He had to leave but he told me to call him later that night because he wanted to talk to me. When I got home I called him but all I heard was an automatic voice message saying that my call had been forwarded to an automatic voice mail account. I threw my phone down, took a blade and cut my scalp until I could hardly see. I remember everything being blury and just saying his name in my head over and over and over.
The next school year was just a blur, really. I made new friends and lost some too. Did two more plays and made it to concert choir. But honestly, nothing really stands out worth talking about. I was in a coma the whole time. Nothing phased me. Until the day I decided I wanted to get better. I got started on some new medications and I did something that would change my life for the better forever. While I was in the hospital I met this girl but she was pretty new when I left. I was drawn to her instantly. I knew I was missing out on something, but I had no idea how wonderful that something was. I found her on a social networking site and asked her for her adress so I could write her letters. To my surprise, she actually wrote me back and she almost instantly became my best friend.
Things were looking up and they got even better when my oldest sister called me and told me she was pregnat again. I was so exited to be an auntie again. And I knew it was going to be a girl, I could just feel it. Then two days later my dad tells me she lost the baby. I didn't know what to say or do. And no one else in my house treated it like it was a big deal so I did the same. I was so confused I just repressed it. But a few months later my sister and I patched everything up and I stayed with her for a while.
When I was there is when I finally got there, to happiness. Now I can say overall that I am happy. I'm the happiest that I've ever been. I still have bad days (and this is one of those) but who doesn't? I think I am finally heathly and close to being okay. I still have extreeme trust issuses, but I'm working on them in therapy.
Well, now you know it all. Everything is up there. Wow... I sort of can't believe I wrote that! Haha. There are probobly a lot of gaps where I missed little things, but this is basically all of it. Now you know why I think what I think and do what I do. Because this is my life and I can't take it back. I can only try to make my future better.
June 24th, 1993 I came into this world. My parents were in their late 20's and already had two daughters. But what I didn't know was my oldest sister, whom is 12 years older then me, wasn't my mother's. My dad got a 15 year old pregnat when he was 17. When she was a baby her mom left her and my momma raised her like she was her own. When I found out it didn't really phase me. She was still my sister.
I matured pretty quick and had little time to run around outside, do gymnastics or have any imaginary friends like a normal kid. I was pretty smart and I knew something wasn't right with my momma. She was diegnosed with juvinile diabetes when she was 6 years old, which is something that never goes away. That was just the start of her health problems. Both of her kidneys and her pancreas failed. She was sick all the time. I became so comfortable at the hospital I new all the nurses by name. I could tell you the names of her medicine and what they were for. I could locate every bathroom on every floor. I could tell you what and what not to get on tuesdays in the cafateria. I found a new home.
As a young child I heard the last rights being read to my mother by our preist multiple times. I have had to say 'goodbye' to her more times then anyone should have to think 'this is the last time I will ever see you'.
Through the stress of my momma's detereorating health at home things were tense. My dad worked a lot and my sisters took care of me basically morning through night. I worshiped my sisters, especailly my oldest. She was a senior in high school and I wanted to be just like her. I slept in her bed almost every night. Just to be near her I felt like flying. She was my world, and admitadly, still is.
She started acting out her Junior year of high school. She got kicked off of the volley ball team because she got caught smoking. When my parents found out my mom punched her in the nose and told her to pack her things and 'get the fuck out'. And she was gone. She hardly visited. And now my sister who is only two years older then me took on the job of substatute mom. She woke me up for school, got me dressed and fed, helped me with my home work and made sure I got to bed at a decent hour (most of the time).
My sister leaving the house was just the first of a domino effect of aweful accurences in my life. First, my dad got stressed. With money and having to deal with us and mom being sick, so he did something easy. He picked on the ones who wouldn't fight him. We adored him, so he knew we wouldn't mind. He hit us. Well, he hit them. I know I didn't get the worst of it. My older sisters were his punching bags. I would hear them screaming in the back rooms of the house. Hear flesh on flesh, heads hitting walls, hair being pulled, 'please stop...' over and over. I just sat there, rocking back and fourth and saying, 'I'm glad it's not me.' Looking back now, I wish I would have taken every single one of those beatings so they didn't have to feel the pain.
Besides my sisters, the woman I adored most in this world was my nana, my mom's mom. She would watch my sister and I all the time. She was basically another mother. And she would never say it, but we were her favorite of her 22 grand children. Then one day she was in the hospital. Then another, without warning, I said goodbye to her. It was April. She took a peice of me down with her when they put her underground. She was there, and then she wasn't. I was eight years old and I wanted to die too.
It was raining. Not that hard, but my bare feet were frozen on the wet ground. I walked in the middle of the country road where I lived, and hated so much. I laid down and waited. I waited and waited and waited. Nothing came. The cold was too much. I told myself, 'another day... I'll be with Nana another day'.
Things started looking up, but only for a short while. My momma had been on the donor list for a new kidney and pancreas for a while and we got a call one day. They found a match. The surgery went smoothly. She still had to go to doctor's appointments a lot but the visits were getting shorter and not as frequent. Then one day she came home sad. The kidney and pancreas failed. She was at the bottom of the waiting list again.
The physical abuse from Dad turned into mental and emotional. And it wasn't just his girls this time, he took it out on Momma too. He pushed her, yelled at her, called her names. I watched. I didn't do anything. But really, what could I do?
One night Momma was in the hospital. Dad came home, angry as usual. That morning he told us to clean our room but it wasn't done when he came home. He grabbed my sister by the hair and dragged her into our room. I heard her head slamming into the wall. I heard her screaming. I heard him yelling. I didn't want to listen anymore. I was laying in the living room with my english home work in front of me. I kept saying in my head 'I'm in third grade, I'm doing my homework, I'm fine. I'm in third grade, I'm doing my homework, I'm fine.' Then I heard the pounding stop. He came out of our room and picked me up by the belt loop of my pants and threw me against the kitchen island. Then he grabbed me by the hair and threw me against the dishwasher and kicked me in the stomach. He grabbed me by the hair again and tossed me in our room. He yelled for another five minutes then walked out of our room. My sister and I have these 'sister brainwaves'. We don't really ever say 'I love you' out loud. We just look at each other for a long time and we know. She looked at me with red eyes. I stopped crying. Then we went back to folding our clothes and never spoke about it again.
As my fourth grade year came to a close my uncle did an amazing thing. He gave my momma his kidney. It was a perfect match and still works today.
For about three years life was filled with minor ups and downs. I think I forgot to mention, when I was eight we started family therapy. That's when I was first diegnosed with depression. When I was tweleve it became severe, which was the same time things got bad again.
We were all in the kitchen. Momma wasn't making dinner right. He threw hot greese on Momma and I and when my sister stepped in he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her up against the wall. My mom called the cops but he left before they got there. My sister and I moved into seperate rooms upstairs and when the cops came I snuck out of my room and watched from the stair well. I couldn't really hear anything but I wondered why they didn't want to talk to me. I was there too. And that's when I got really sick.
I started doing things just for attention. Making up stories, lieing about the littlest things and it even got to the point where I was cutting myself for attention. My best friend started cutting herself and everyone was so worried about her. They told her that they loved her over and over and told the school counsler so she had someone to talk to. When I did it I showed one of my friends and all she said was, 'what did you do it with'? I told her, 'A thumb tack.' Her reply was, 'Ouch.' That was it. No one cared.
That's when I tried to commit suicide for the second time. I was thirteen years old. Looking back I don't think I really wanted to do it, it was just another cry for attention. My favorite song was on the raido when I was sitting in the bath tub. I held the radio over the water, then the song ended. 'Another day...' I said to myself again.
Back to what happened with my dad... He started staying with my grandparents. My mom asked my sister and I if she should stay with him, which is a really unfair thing to do. I said, 'leave him'. After two weeks of him being gone she made up her mind. Dad moved back in. I was livid. I told him up front that I wasn't going to listen to anything he said if he moved back in. But like every promise I made back then, I couldn't keep it.
Through the years my oldest sister was pretty rebellious and didn't spend a lot of time with us. Then she found a really nice guy with a fucked up past as well. They decided to start over in Idaho. At the time I was pretty upset but thinking about it now, I don't know why she didn't do it sooner.
She went to nursing school and got her degree. We were going over to watch her graduate and she when she called to invite us she had some other news, she was pregnat. 9 months later she gave birth to a beautiful little boy. My nephew became my world. But he was so far away... That's the part that hurt the most. And it still does to this day.
When I entered high school I had a set group of friends that I was going to have forever. I was so worried about being cool nothing else mattered. Everyone had to know my name. I wore Hollister and Abercrombie, just like all the popular girls. The only thing holding me back from ultimate popularity was my love for the performing arts. My school's drama department was holding autidions for 'The Sound of Music'. I told my friends I wanted to try out and they told me, 'If you try out for the musical I will never speak to you again.' I didn't audition.
Sophmore year a friend of mine told me that he liked me. At first I was a bit taken back, but I finally got around to the idea of us being together. And of course by that time he was over me. After playing this cat and mouse game for a few months we finally met in the middle. He asked me to be his girlfriend and with a smile I said, 'Yes... I will be your girlfriend.'
We went to homecoming together and that's when he kissed me for the first time. Butterflies filled my stomach and it was like they were all on LSD. We kissed again, and again, then we danced over and over. The dance was over, we kissed goodbye. It was pretty much a perfect night. Two days later he texted me saying, 'I don't really want a girlfriend right now.' I was kind of torn up. Like the crazy girl I was, I had planned a lot for us. He was known to have girlfriends for at least 3 months. I thought, this could be my high school romance. I cried, listened to a few sad songs, then I got over it. I still liked him and watched idily by as he dated a bitch. And she was honestly, the biggest bitch I ever met. I have no idea what he saw in her, but we were over and I was prettier then her.(;
So in the midst of all this boy drama I was having friend drama as well. My best friend at the time and I started having these stupid fights. We wouldn't talk for two days then we'd make up. Oh, and I failed to mention that all my friends hated my boyfriend of 4 days. Especially my best friend. They had a 'thing' before we started dating. I thought my friends would be supportive, but they weren't. They held grudges because he was kind of a jerk, I will admit. But still, I liked him. They should have been happy for me.
When we broke up we still talked. He told me that he liked me but he just wanted to be single. Which I was cool with. I thought if I let him go he would come back. But as I told you before, he started dating a bitch a few months later. One of my friends, probobly the one with the most hatred twards him, lived just down the street from him, so my ex and I made a plan; His parents would be gone for the weekend so I would sneek over and we planned on having sex. We would both be loosing our virginity to each other. The plan was bullet proof.
The night before this 'plan' there was a varsity football game. While all of my friends were hanging out with their 'boy-things' mine was on the feild making touch downs. I felt like kind of a hard ass knowing that the next night I would be doing a varsity football star. Like every high school movie. I was the cheerleader, he was the varsity stud. It would be perfect.
The day before I had another pity fight with my best friend. At the game we made up and to test our friendship once more I confided in her about our plan. Instead of being exited that I was going to loose my virginty or congratulating me on my badassness like I thought she would she said, 'I can't even look at you right now. You disgust me.' I just started bawling. And my other best friend's boyfriend, who I was becoming close friends with, saw me. He wrapped me in a hug and told me it would all me okay. He stood there with me until I stopped shaking.
Finally, the day came. We were texting all day. He was being so cute and telling me he cleaned his room just for me and asked if I wanted candles or anything. I laughed and said, I'm good on the candle front. Then while I was at my friends house he texted me and told said, 'bad news, babe. my parents aren't leaving. we can't do it tonight.' I was pretty bummed. I really thought that night would be the night. I wouldn't be a little girl anymore. I was gunna fuck a varsity football player. But I shrugged it off. There would be other moments. As if the message wasn't enough bad news, I wasn't the first one to read it. My friend who hated him with a burning passion got to my phone first. She asked me about it and I told her, 'Oh, he's just being a pig.' So then she starts texting him on my phone saying 'I hate you' and 'You're disgusting' blah, blah, blah... Eventually I got my phone back and told him it wasn't me saying all those nasty things.
When morning came I had a new text on my phone. It was from my friend's boyfriend asking if I was okay. I told him that I was and we talked for a little while. I went home and slept for the rest of the day. I woke up on Monday morning and felt like complete shit so I stayed home. But since I was home it allowed rummors and gossip to run wild with no filter. Me not going to school that day ruined my teenage girl life.
On Tuesday when I made it back to school no one would talk to me. I had no one. All my friends left me. From other people I heard stories, like I left my friends house and had a threesome, I was 'sexting' my best friend's boyfriend and I was a cold hearted bitch who only cared about herself. I guess I own up to the last part.
I apologized to all my 'friends' for all the things I didn't do and they didn't take it very well. They started harrassing me through myspace and then the blogs started. They posted them saying what a bitch I was and how I was a horrible friend and a liar and whore... The list went on and on. Then people commented it. People who weren't nessisarily my friends, but we were nice to each other. And people I didn't even know were saying, 'She's such a bitch. She got what was coming to her...' And other nasty things. I would read them every night before I went to bed. I couldn't help myself. I felt worthless. I tried to confide in my ex, but he ditched me too. I had never been so alone in my life.
Since I had nothing to loose, I made a big decision. I tried out for the school play. It was 'Macbeth'. I had never done a play before, let alone performed Shakepeare. But I knew I had to do it. It was my only shot at happiness. When I auditioned I wanted the part of a witch, but I knew I probobly wasn't going to get it since I was new. The drama director always put new people in minor parts just to get to know them a little better then the next show he would have a better place for them if they were good. When the cast list came out I got the roll of 'Messenger'. It wasn't a witch but I got a part. I was still overjoyed.
At that time my mom was visiting her sister in Spokane. My uncle was sick so she was helping her out. I texted my mom and told her the good news. She texted me back and said, 'Good job hunny! I am so proud of you!' I didn't know it at the time, but eleven minutes prior to her sending that message my uncle died.
When my sister and I got home my dad told us the news. I don't know why, but I didn't cry. I never cried about it. I just continued my day. I checked my myspace and got another harassing message from an anonomas person. The message went on and on saying that no one loves me and I am going to die alone. They told me how disgusting I was and that I'll never find anyone to put up with me. That's when I made the choice for the last time. I was going to kill myself.
No one was home that night. What was different about this time was I wrote letters. But I didn't write them to my sisters or my friends. I wrote them to the people who didn't know how I felt about them and I wrote one to my three 'best friend's telling them that it was their fault and I hope that they won't be able to sleep at night knowing my blood was on their hands. I signed each one, 'I'm with Kurt Cobain today.'
The time came. I walked into my parents room and found my dad's hand gun. It was dark so the sliding glass door I stood in front of was like a mirror. I watched as I put the gun to my temple, like a movie. I didn't put my finger on the trigger but I kept twitching, like I was trying to but I just couldn't. I looked in the window again. I really saw myself with a gun in my hand. I paniced. I threw the gun back in the drawer, closed it and went right to bed.
A few weeks went by and the thought of suicide crossed my mind every day. I didn't act on it again, though. I would build up my bravery at school then I'd be home alone at night and I'd loose it.
One morning I felt something nudge my leg and it woke me up. I had fallen asleep on the couch the night before. It was my sister. She had my suicide notes in her hand. I immediately started crying. She called my mom, my mom called my therapist and she told my mom to take me to the emergency room. I thought they were just going to talk to me and draw blood at the most just to make sure if my medication was alright. I had no idea what the protacal was for a suicidal teenager. But I found out that night. I was admited to a psych ward. I was there for 5 days. I wanted to stay longer, but before I could say anything all my stuff was packed and I was walking out the door. I knew I wasn't ready but my parents were so exited to bring me home. I made a lot of friends and memories there. Honestly, I would do it again in a heartbeat if I could. It may sound strange, but those were the best 5 days of my life. It doesn't sound like much, but you'd be surprised what 5 days in a loony bin can do to you. All you do is talk about your problems and it's completely okay. It's what you're suposed to do. It was so easy there... Like breathing.
When I got back I had two requests; go out to lunch and go to school so I could see my two remaining friends and my two favorite teachers. My parents and I went to Red Robin, my favorite resturaunt EVER. It was so bright and loud compared to inside the hospital walls. I got an aweful headache.
I brought my 'Macbeth' script to the hospital with me and my mom said it was okay that I go to rehearsal after school. With 5 minutes left in the school day I ran to my 5th period that I just happened to have with my two best friends and one of my favorite teachers. She knows a lot about me and my sister told her where I was so I was so exited to see her.
I burst in the doorway and my friend looked up and yelled my name. I ran to her and wrapped her in my arms. She asked me if I was okay and I told her, 'I'm wonderful, now.' I hugged my other friend who I have known since we were two. And I didn't know it then, but my mom told her mom and she told my friend. Awesome, mom.
My teacher asked if she could see me in the hall for a minute. She gave me a big hug and told me, 'if you need anything, you let me know.' I told her I would.
After the bell rang I wanted to run to rehearsal but I wanted to do one thing just a little more, see my english teacher. My sister also told her where I was. My best friend came with me. We talked for a little while then we both had to go. My friend walked me to rehearsal. I didn't want to tell her because I knew it would kill her. I wanted to wait. I wanted to give myself time to digest it before I let anyone else know. But another promise broken, I told her. I could see the hurt in her eyes and sadness bleeding through her soul. Her ride pulled up and she said, 'we're talking about this tomorrow.'
I went to rehearsal and I got a whirl-wind of 'where have you been?!'s. The best thing I could think of was, 'Away. I was just away.' Then the drama director wanted to talk to me. He just wanted to know if I was okay and allowed me to be very vauge about my absence. Then he told me that 'Witch 1' dropped out and asked me if I was up for taking the part. And of course, without hesitation I said 'hell yeah!'
The next week was great. I loved being back home and everyone was nice to me but that quickly went away. My sister took my phone and locked herself in the bathroom. I tried to break down the door with the full intention of killing her. I was so disgusted with what I had done I went upstairs and cut myself. But it felt good this time and it became an addiction. I continued to cut on my thighs so no one would see. Somehow my mom found out and I told her I would stop, but it's not that easy. It was like a drug. I needed it to function. My blade didn't judge me, it didn't tell me I was worthless, it didn't stare, it just sat there. It was there whenever I needed it. I was in love. Yes, I was in love with a blade.
Some days I wanted to stop. I would cry for hours. I finally realized that my blade didn't love me back. I wanted real love. I wanted warmth. My sister had a friend that had a hard childhood and went through a substance abuse problem and we had recently become close so I began to confide in him. It was never anything romantic, he was like my big brother. He was my rock in the tumultuous sea that was my life. He was the first person I actually felt love me. When he said it, I believed him. He constantly told me how much he loved me and that he cared for me. He would go on and on about my smile and that when I smiled it gave him hope. He told me how beautiful I was, inside and out and how things would get better and that I didn't deserve what was happening to me. And he told me, no, he promised me that he would never leave me and he would be there forever, no matter what.
Pretty soon I had a ritual. Wake up at 6:30 AM, go to school, come home, cut, talk to him, go to sleep at 4 AM. Every day this is how I lived until he didn't answer me. I felt a void building between us. He assured me it was nothing and that he loved me too much to just ditch. Apparently not.
He didn't pack up and leave all at once, though. He would come in and out for weeks at a time. At this time he was trying to get me to stop cutting and I would always keep him updated on how long I had gone without it. The days started adding up then the weeks and soon it turned into a month. I had gone a month without harming myself. I was so proud and I knew he would be too. I approached him at school and I told him, "It's been a month." And he just nodded. I asked him, "Do you know what I'm talking about?" He said, "Yeah, I know." With nothing but bordom in his eyes. I went home that night and cut myself. Right then I knew I was loosing him.
I developed aweful anxiety. The one thing I knew for sure would always be there just dissapeared. No warning, just... Gone. That's when it happened. A hole. A gaping hole appeared in my chest. The edges were raw, they burned. I felt it all day every day. There was no escaping it.
There was no way I could aproach him. If I even saw him I would stop breathing and the hole would devour my entire body. Sometimes I would just go into my history teacher's class room, sit behind her desk and cry. Just wail until my lungs wouldn't let me anymore.
When summer hit my sister threw a party. I got drunk and made a complete ass out of myself in front of him. I started screaming bloody murder wishing I would die. He carried me to bed but I didn't stay for there for long. I took a pair of scissors and made two lines across my wrist. My sister saw and I had an 'intervention'. Then he took me up to bed again and he laid there with me. I asked him if I could feel my heart beat. He nodded, not really knowing what that meant and I pressed my ear to his chest and there it was, my heart beating under his ribcage. Dispite how it ended, that was probobly the worst night of my life.
In August my best friend was performing in the talent show at the county fair. Her act was singing and playing guitar. Before she went on she got really nervous so we practiced for like two hours before she went on. While we were sitting there she looked up and saw him. I called his name and ran to him. He opened his arms and I dove into his chest. It felt like we were hugging for hours. I stood there just breathing him in. Feeling him, there. It's sickening how happy I was.
We started talking and he just seemed different. His eyes, the way he stood and talked. He wasn't the brother I once knew so well.
He had to leave but he told me to call him later that night because he wanted to talk to me. When I got home I called him but all I heard was an automatic voice message saying that my call had been forwarded to an automatic voice mail account. I threw my phone down, took a blade and cut my scalp until I could hardly see. I remember everything being blury and just saying his name in my head over and over and over.
The next school year was just a blur, really. I made new friends and lost some too. Did two more plays and made it to concert choir. But honestly, nothing really stands out worth talking about. I was in a coma the whole time. Nothing phased me. Until the day I decided I wanted to get better. I got started on some new medications and I did something that would change my life for the better forever. While I was in the hospital I met this girl but she was pretty new when I left. I was drawn to her instantly. I knew I was missing out on something, but I had no idea how wonderful that something was. I found her on a social networking site and asked her for her adress so I could write her letters. To my surprise, she actually wrote me back and she almost instantly became my best friend.
Things were looking up and they got even better when my oldest sister called me and told me she was pregnat again. I was so exited to be an auntie again. And I knew it was going to be a girl, I could just feel it. Then two days later my dad tells me she lost the baby. I didn't know what to say or do. And no one else in my house treated it like it was a big deal so I did the same. I was so confused I just repressed it. But a few months later my sister and I patched everything up and I stayed with her for a while.
When I was there is when I finally got there, to happiness. Now I can say overall that I am happy. I'm the happiest that I've ever been. I still have bad days (and this is one of those) but who doesn't? I think I am finally heathly and close to being okay. I still have extreeme trust issuses, but I'm working on them in therapy.
Well, now you know it all. Everything is up there. Wow... I sort of can't believe I wrote that! Haha. There are probobly a lot of gaps where I missed little things, but this is basically all of it. Now you know why I think what I think and do what I do. Because this is my life and I can't take it back. I can only try to make my future better.
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