There's not a whole lot about me that's truly special, or different from anyone else. I have had my share of ups and downs (seems like a lot more downs, but I think everyone feels that way), and in no way are my ups and downs any better or worse than yours. But they are mine, and I really don't know how to deal with them. Frankly, I think there is something wrong with me. Depression? Almost assuredly. But something else too... I don't process emotion the way other people do. And I have crap for memory. Some people are forgetful - I border on Alzheimer's. So, this blog is my attempt to straighten out all the crazy thoughts that whirl around in my head like mini-tornadoes. Hopefully, it makes sense.
So, what all do I have to whine about in my life? Well, here's a list of the highlights:
- Adopted at birth, given some limited information, just enough to drive me crazy, but not enough to find my birth family with. Here's the kicker - I just found out last year that both of my adopted parents know very well who my birth mother is, and my dad at least knows where to find her, but he won't tell me because (and this was taken from a drunken rambling, so it may or may not have been heard correctly) I was a product of a step-parent rape and he doesn't want me to know all the gory details.
- My alcoholic and drug addicted father and (untreated) bi-polar mother divorced when I was 6, prompting a series of moves across the country, resulting in me never staying in one house or school longer than 2 years.
- At 12, I was molested by a friend of the family I called Papa.
- At 15, I was raped by a man whose 2 yr old daughter I babysat.
- At 17, I hated both of my parents so much I ran away to Canada with the first guy who would go with me. He turned out to be the world's biggest control freak and an abusive asshole. And btw, I didn't make it into Canada, they stopped us at the border, so we ended up stuck in Michigan for a week until we could beg bus tickets from family.
- Also at 17, I dropped out of school a few months shy of graduating. Why? Because control freak wouldn't let me go to school because then I would be out of his sight all day.
- At 19, I had my first baby, becoming the teenage parent I said I would never be.
- At 21, I got divorced from said abusive asshole and met hubby #2 (still current, although some days I wonder...)
- Also at 21, I began my criminal career as the worst bounced check offender ever seen in that county (and the 4 surrounding counties). Did I do it on purpose? Kind of. I had really good intentions of paying it all back "later." I just had needs right then that had to be met (like food and rent, and the occasional shopping trip for my severely spoiled daughter). After a couple nights in jail, and a felony conviction that will haunt me the rest of my life, did I learn my lesson? (And pay it all back, x10?) Oh, yeah.
- At 22, I had baby #2, out of wedlock (another thing I said I'd never do). I married his dad 2 months later, but still not the same thing.
- At 24, my asshole ex kidnapped my daughter, warping the legal system in two states, and kept her away from me for almost 6 months. Yes, I did get her back, and yes, I did get his visitation rights permanently revoked. Not before he put us all through a year total of hell and over $12,000 in legal expenses though.
- At 25, I had baby #3. I also found out that my second marriage was not actually valid because my divorce papers from my frst husband were never filed by my incompetent ass of a first lawyer.
- At 26, my oldest son was diagnosed with leukemia. He died 2 weeks later, after I spent 3 hours arguing with some fresh out of med school prick that yes he really did have a fever, and yes, goddamnit, it really was vital he be put on high dose antibiotics right away. 3 hours later, when his heart failed for the last time, I saw that same moronic little prick sobbing to my son's regular doctor that he didn't think it was that bad. Do I wish divine retribution/karma/whatever to bite him in the ass? Oh hell yeah. Did I pursue a malpractice suit? No. It wouldn't bring me back my baby, no matter how much money I got, so what's the point?
- At 27, baby #4 was born. Oddly enough, I found out I was pregnant on what would have been my son's 3rd birthday. And I went into labor on the anniversary of the day he was diagnosed. Does that mean anything? Probably not. Do I pretend it does anyway? Yeah.
So, here I am now, at 28 (almost 29). I haven't accomplished much in my life, and I feel like I'm always just barely hanging on to that last little thread of sanity. I have days when I wonder what would have happened, if.... There are days when I want nothing more than to run away. "I can't be a mom today, sorry! I need to go lay on the beach in Mexico or somewhere... See ya!" Those days seem to come more often lately. I love my kids, I really do - but sometimes I thik they are literally going to drive me insane. So, you ready for a road trip?