When I was little my grandmother basically raised me, not because my parents were incapable but because I preferred her over my parents. I was close to her than anyone else in the world. I remember the summer before I started kindergarten, I was terrified to go to “big school”, my grandma promised she would drive me there and walk me to class on my first day. In my county, school starts in mid, to late August, my grandma died on the fourth of July, a month before I started from lung cancer. I came to school crying my eyes out, and so began my terrible school years. I was bullied my whole life. I have always been the fat, ugly girl with no friends. I learned how to be good at school. You don’t need to be smart, you just have to be able to memorize things and then regurgitate it on tests and many, many, many State Mandating Exams. I was nine, in 2006, my fourth grade year, it was the worst year of my life. The bullying got worse because I continued to grow in weight and lack of attractiveness and friends, and then I got the news. My mom had cancer. At nine, I had no idea what exactly cancer was, hell at 16 I still can’t fully comprehend it. But anyways, I thought my mom was going to die and that was that. All I knew about cancer was that that’s how my beloved grandma died… and my mom was next. I think that’s when the depression started. For the first time I begged to miss school, and I cried for my mom to walk me all the way to my class in the morning I didn’t want to lose a second with her. There was a boy in my class, we’ll call him Lance, who picked on me every single day, and I took it every single day. That is until the last day of school. I remember turning off my emotions and from that moment on, I knew I would never feel as much I did that year. Lance came up to me and I knew he was going to say something smart about my mom being bald, or my being a baby, or stupid (because I was the quietest kid in class) and with no hesitation ,I punched hi in the nose and walked out of class. My cousin Erica was the P.E. coach at my elementary school and they always said if I ever got into trouble they would send me there before they sent me to the office, so I knew I should go to the office. At that point I had one real friend, Marcus, and his mom was the school nurse and me being the klutz I am, was in there often. So I went to her, Mrs. Kathrine and told her what happened, and she walked with me to the principals office. When we got there and told the principal what happened she didn’t know what to do. Turns out no one has the heart to tell a cancer patient that her daughter went through daily torment for her and we held a parent-teacher conference with Mrs. Kathrine pretending to be my mom. Long story short, the cancer treatments and surgery worked and my mom is currently 9 years cancer free.
It wasn’t that simple during treatments though. She had to drive an hour away everyday for 6months. I couldn’t always go though so I had to stay with my Aunt Martha, who after a few weeks decided she didn’t want a little girl living with them. So then I stayed with my Aunt Caroline who a week in realized that her job was too demanding for a child. So then I was sent to my cousin Marie’s house. Now Marie already had two kids, one a year younger than me and the other 6 years younger than me, and she was pregnant with a third baby. I have no idea how she did it, but I was able to live with them for pretty much the whole 6months of my moms cancer treatments. The downside was, I immediately went from only child to oldest of three in an instant, and I had no idea how to handle that. All of a sudden I was in charge of not only myself but of my two younger cousins. I had to help make their dinner, give them baths, make sure they were up and dressed on time in the mornings, and all-in-all, I had to grow up fast. To this day, I don’t know what a childhood feels like, because even when I moved back in with my parents I had to take care of mom, who never really ever got back to 100%.
At this point I haven’t said anything about my dad and that’s because I don’t remember anything about him before this point in my life. Yes, my dads been around since I was born but he was a corrections officer and was never home, he was either working or drinking. I became a daddy’s girl real quick though. I had a desire to be around both my parents all time. And it didn’t take long to figure out my dad sort of (and by that I mean completely) wanted a son. So I did the best I could, I helped in the shed, learned how to fish, and shoot a gun and everything because wanted to be the favorite. One day when I was about 10, I remember my dad just got home and he needed to change the dome light in his truck. Now I knew light bulbs got hot after that were turned on, but I didn’t think a tiny little dome light would get that hot, I soon found out, they do.. Instead of my dad comforting me, or even asking if I was okay, he yelled at me for being stupid. Right then I realized I still felt and that people could still hurt me, and I hated myself for it. I also realized that I hated being stupid and that if I couldn’t change it, I would hide it as well as I could, to this day I’ve kept that promise. I sopped trying so much to be the little boy my dad wanted and tried to be who I wanted, but I didn’t know who that girl was. So for the most part I gave up my search for me.
Then there was Junior High. Those 3 years were some of the hardest ones of my life. In 6th grade, Marcus, the friend from elementary school, became my first boyfriend, and at the time I was ecstatic. The bullying only got worse and for the fist time, I had someone there to hold me. And hold me he did. Turns out Marcus wasn’t the Prince Charming I thought he was. He starting molesting me about 2months into our “relationship.” I was too scared to leave though, they always talk about how guys who pressure you often turn abusive and I didn’t want that. But finally I broke things off.. but only for a couple of weeks then he talked me into believing he changed. He became verbally, emotionally, and occasionally physically abusive, along with him making me let him touch me. For four years I dealt with him, I let him rule me and tell me who to be. After we broke up the last time, I’ve sworn off any form of communication with Marcus.
Because of the worsening bullying and pressures from Marcus my depression continued to escalate. This continued all through seventh grade. The last week of February one of my closer friends, Cassandra, was killed in an ATV accident, she as only 16. And then on March 16, 2011, my best friend was killed in a car wreck. We grew up down the street from each other and he was the older brother figure to me. He moved away right before my mom was diagnosed, and I hadn’t talked to him since. When I found out he died, I hated myself. I had a Facebook, why din’ t I ever try to contact I’m. I always had this image in my head of when I got to high school we would reunite and it would be just like old times, but I didn’t make it to high school before his passing; he was also only 16 years old. This was the point where, when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. My depression reached an all time high and I started self-harming and fell into anorexia, all at once.
And then there is high school where I proved that I still suck in relationships. Marcus hurt me so bad that I forgot how to trust and along with my dad being slightly emotionally abusive, I am actually terrified if commitment, and adult men. In an effort to try and fit in and make up for what Marcus did, I messed around with an older guy when I was 14 and then two weeks before my 16th birthday, as a sophomore I lost my virginity to a senior that I barely knew and I regret it, so much. However, I apparently didn’t regret it as much as I wish I did because after I ended the relationship I was in at the time, I slept with his best friend for around 3 months. That I felt bad about. I cut it off and barely talk to anybody now, because I have proved to myself that I am shit at relationships of all types and it’s better if I just avoid them all together. Currently, I am in 11th grade, I am working on recovering from my anorexia, I still struggle some with self-harming and my depression and anxiety are still terrible.