Today as I type this, I want you to know who I am. It's my first time telling you my story, and I've never actually gone public with this for many obvious reasons. I've told a few close friends some pieces of it, but they don't fully grasp the emotional pain this has caused me. I am of legal age, and I suffer from many different things. Bi-Polar, Depression, Reactive Emotional Disorder, Spilt Personalities....yes. Plus some more that I'm slowly starting to figure out.
It all started before I was born. My only reason of birth was a stupid one. Not your typical "Condom Break" or "The Pill". Instead, my father bet my mother and said "If you can give birth naturally, I'll give you an engagement ring". Yes. That was my reason for being here. Over a stupid ring. Anywho, skipping time here, before I was two, my father left. He was a drunk druggie who cheated on my mother. As you all should know, a child's first bond IS their mother. Mine was actually with my father. If a child is unable to bond by the age of three, what is called an "Emotional Disorder" settles in because the child begins to feel abandonment. Well, I happened to fall victim to that.
Between the ages of 5-8, I've been shuffled around from many different homes with my mother and brother. We came to this one house in the city. It was the worst possible ganster run area, but it was the only place able to be afforded by mothers low income. Her bf at the time was with her for a good 4yrs now and during those years, I was his sex toy. If you wonder why I cringe and cry at the word "Bubbles" well, perhaps I should tell you another time. It's a image no child should see. Mother was clearly unaware of the things he'd do while she was away. Shortly after she found out and threw him over the balcony, she became addicted to drugs and alcohol. Random men would walk into the house and I'd wake up at night to see them in her bed. It unphased me after awhile. It was a regular thing to see every night. Our baby sitters on the other hand, they weren't any better. They'd beat me for the stupidest of reasons. One had me in a head lock to the point where I foamed out of the mouth do to lack of oxygen and fainted. Another kicked me in the a** with steel-toed boots and laughed.
Kids in the neighbourhood were another thing. There were constant fights on the streets. So I always carried a knife with me. You had too in that kind of area. The boy that lived upstairs (he was 3 yrs older then me) would rape me everyday, The three triplets that lived across the road would pin me down and play "Doctor", the girl across the street would strip me of my clothes and force me to do odd gestures. Kids around my age...took the innocents from me and I felt like nothing more but dirt. I eventually succumbed to it till something snapped in my mind. I whipped out my knife and nearly killed a kid because he drove a board with a nail in it, straight into my brothers forehead.
To top things off, I was thrown into Foster Care the summer following after my 8th birthday. I was going into grade 3 that year. All I can remember of that day, was looking out the back of the car and seeing tears stream down my mothers face. In my eyes, I thought this was normal. I figured every kid went through this too; boy was I ever wrong. After being moved into my second home, my brother, younger sister and I were all moved into different homes as well. We only got to see each other once a month...5 times a year if we were lucky.
My life got worse as time grew on. I had Social Workers constantly change and I wouldn't stay longer then 3 months in a Foster home before they got sick of me and screamed on the phone requesting I be removed immedeatly. I'm not ever sure what I did wrong. To this day I still don't recall. I lost track after my 15th home, 12th school, and 18th Social Worker. I lived souly for my brother and sister. I stayed strong and made it my goal to finish all my schooling so they'd have someone to look up too. I really don't remember much of my life during all the moves and stuff. I recall constantly getting bullied because I was younger then all my classmates by a year. I remember shuffling into the closet at the back of the classrooms or sitting outside the hall during "Mother's Day" and "Father's Day" card making. I didn't have either of those. Yes, I had a Foster Family, but I regressed because of that abandoned feeling. I lived day by day wondering how long I had before I was kicked out. I would never unpack my things because of it. I just simply grew accustomed to it all.
I've been through a lot of emotional and psychical pain. I remember constantly asking to be adopted into a loving family. It wouldn't happen for me because families prefered younger children like my little sister.
To this day...I've only ever loved one person. She broke me inside and I don't think I could ever really love someone like that ever again. I have a hard time trusting people. It really does take a lot of paticents to earn it. I can act all happy and cheery, but believe me...if I could give you just a moment in my shoes...you'd be blown away by everything I went through. A lot of people call me "Strong" but in my eyes...I really thought it was normal. I seriously kept making myself believe that every child went through this so the pain would ease away before I went to sleep every night.
The pain of abandonment...being unloved...unwanted...it casts its toll on a child. You might think the quiet girl at school is super fun to pick on, but little do you realize...she doesn't have a mother to embrace when she returns home from school or a father that would teach her how to beat up the boys. All she has is a pencil and paper. Her only escape into the world is through every line she draws. Only there will you find the sorrow she's hidden. After school, she doesn't have time for homework. She has chores. If those aren't completed, she doesn't get fed and is sent off to her room to starve for the night. Most days, that girl would be lucky to have a meal before school.
That's my life so far. Well, just a mere scratch to the surface really. There's a lot I'm holding back, due to graphic scenes or inappropriate themes. I'm sure you got the just of what I'm trying to say. So if you see a lonely person...please, talk to them. You might be the only thing in life that makes them believe there really is someone who cares. Who knows...you might just save a persons life.
