Throughout the years you not only gain and lose friends but you find or lose yourself. For me, I lost myself and over time had to learn to re-find myself. I've lost many friends over the years. You know theirs that one girl who stole your dessert from your lunch box as a kid so you stopped talking to her, or the boy you thought you liked only to find out your best friend in middle school liked him as well, So you stop talking to her. or in high school when you find out your best friend talked behind your back and called you a slut, slept with your boyfriend or stole from you while hanging out at your house.
We all have lost friends. But we move on. So what happens when you lose a friend and you feel like your world is crashing all around you? Like the world no longer is there and all you see is the four walls of your bedroom and the tear field pages of your diary? What about then? have you experienced that? Have you ever lost a boyfriend or a girlfriend that meant so much to you only to find out that you no longer mean anything to them? These are all relationships that affect us, impact us, and overall change us!
For me, I've had a lot of relationships in my life. Especially these last 4 years. I made friends, lost friends, even bullied a few after we were no longer friends. I've even lost and gained a family. I have made lots of mistakes when it comes to my relationships. Some impacted me more than others.
I had one friend although I didn't know her very long before I felt really close to her. I felt a connection to her that made me trust her and feel comfortable with her. We had a lot in common and I ended up crushing on her. However, some events happened and we started to hate each other. Now we don't speak except on rare occasions. We talked two years ago around Christmas time. Then texted recently for just a short time. Every time I hear from her or we talk it reminds me how we both screwed up and made mistakes and are no longer friends. It's especially hard because when you find someone who you feel you relate to, can talk too, and won't judge you for your past then lose them. Someone who wasn't a therapist or treatment staff! But it's a reminder every time you do talk. I don't know how she felt or feels but I wish I did. Sometimes I want to ask what she really felt when we first bet, before all the shit went down, to how she felt during all the drama, so now years later. But I don't ask. Why? Because I'm afraid of what she will say. How she felt or and feels. That I am alone in how I feel, how I felt.
You see, a relationship can have a huge impact on your life. and some of them affect it longer than others. I lost someone who could have been a really good friend of mine all because of poor choices on both ends. I lost family because of how we live and the choices we choose to make in our lives. My sister and I use to be close but she moved out of town and started to make super poor choices. Now we barely talk because the choices she decided to make changed her. She started to lie to me, treat me like I wasn't her sister but her bank. Lying, complaining, friends, and partying became more important to her. An impact I didn't want in my life. It hurts to lose a sister. Especially one that you were really close to at one point. It's hard when you have some news or just need to talk and you can't talk to your sister. She cares more about what is going on in her life then what is going on in mine when I need to talk. Every time she turns it to herself. And sometimes you just need someone to listen. That's all. Sadly my sister is not one of those people. And that breaks my heart more than anything.
I've also gained a lost friend. I have a friend who I knew practically my whole life. Then I moved and we lost contact. But we have gained it back. We have now been friends again for the second time for almost 4 years. Her kids and my kids hang out. We talk about our husbands, problems, money, our kids etc. She is one friend I can talk to. I know I can tell her anything and she will either give advice back or simply just be an ear to talk to and a shoulder to cry on. She is my best friend. I feel really close to her and enjoy having her in my life. When I am going through hard times she is one person I can count on. One person, I can always go to. She is not just my best friend but my sister!
Over the years I've learned that it comes down to your choices, and how you react to their choices that will determine what happens in that relationship. Relationships are 100/100, not 50/50. If you only put in 50% all you get is 50% but if you put in 100% dedication you will in return get 100% dedication. There are also those rare times even if you put in 100% they only want to put in 30% or 50%. At which point, It's probably time to cut your losses and move one. No matter how hard that may be! And other times those relationships will come around and find you. Sometimes the person wasn't ready for what you had to offer. But in the end, it comes down to you. How much are you going to let a certain relationship impact you? And are you going to let it change, If so.? How much? Because in the end, they control only half of the relationship. The rest, Is up to you!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Obsession Part 2
Continued from "Obsession Part 1"
After Shane and I got married we really worked hard on our communication. We wanted to stay together to work things out. We didn't want our child to be raised the way we were raised. I was in out of foster homes never really having a constant parent role in my life and Shane's parents separated when he was 10 years old. We both decided that for our daughter we need to pull our act together and become friends again. We needed to grow up. Act like adults and most importantly... Parents!
So that's what we did. We started to talk about the little things. How our day was and started to ask more about what each other was thinking. We started to do things together again and become close. Were we perfect? God No! We still argued. I was still having a hard time with letting things go. If we got into an argument I would say "you two deserve each other" because I knew that it bothered him and hurt him when I through his ex in his face.
After we had our daughter we became really close. He was my best friend again. after 2 1/2 years, we were friends again. More than that. We were a couple!! We talked about everything. Our past, my abuse, his parents divorcing, his true feelings of having diabetes, being parents, and so much more. We no longer were holding on to what had happened with Korrin. I forgave not only him and her but myself. I had to accept that I had overreacted and gone totally insane. However, there was one thing that kept getting between us... Nudity.
You see after Shane broke up with Korrin, I was his rebound. I felt taken advantage of. I wasn't confident in my body. I hated how I looked compared to the women in porn and in the movies. I hated seeing the naked body anywhere.. even in my own mirror!! I let him control how I felt about my self. That just deepened after I had my daughter. I felt even uglier due to all the stretch marks and fat that now hung down due to carrying a child for 9 months. At the time I didn't see the beauty in the mommy body. I hated every ounce of my physical body and seeing women and even men that were gorgeous and toned just broke me down even more. I limited Shane saying that movies with nudity, games with nudity and porn were no longer allowed. I wasn't going to tolerate that. He fought back. Every time a movie came out and he wanted to see it I would do research on it. If it had nudity in it I wouldn't allow him to see it. If a game had nudity I wouldn't let him install it, all because I felt like shit about myself.
I became obsessed with hiding my body. Making sure I was hidden. I stopped letting him shower with me, letting him see me get dressed, and even to the point of having sex in the dark. I felt beaten down and horrified of my body. I no longer cared about eating, or pleasing my man, or even talking to him. It all came down to my body and covering it up. Then after some time because I felt so bad about my physical body I started to feel like Shane hated it too. Then again.. after finally letting it go.. I started to compare. Constantly asking for reassurance that he still loved me and my body. I could tell that this was driving him crazy. That I was driving him away. But it was like vomit. I couldn't stop myself from asking. From comparing to every woman I saw. So I stopped all the nakedness.
Then I got pregnant again. 10 months ago I got pregnant. I weighed 180 lbs and hated my body. I never got over it and never could lose it. 9 months later I gave birth to my second child, a baby boy. I weighed 230 pounds after I gave birth. I was exclusively breastfeeding and being active due to the fact that my boy ended up in the NICU for a week after he was born. I stopped drinking soda and started to sleep more. I felt good about myself! I was determined to not feel the way I had felt for the last year and a half!
Then I got sick. I was clotting a lot after the delivery of my child. Bleeding to the point of exhaustion. On July 13th at 4 am I got really sick and couldn't breathe. I ended up in the hospital needing emergency surgery! I had to have my gallbladder removed. I was drugged up on painkillers and on a liquid diet and could no longer breastfeed let alone stay awake for more than 2 hrs at the time due to all the drugs I was on. I started to feel like I wasn't going to lose the weight. That this was going to put me back. A week after that surgery I ended up needing a D&C because the clots were so bad that I was having pain. Still bedridden I was worried. I was losing hope.
But Today, 5 weeks later I have lost 35 pounds! Even with all the holdbacks. I actually feel good about myself and my body. I can shower with Shane, change in front of him, and yes.. have sex with the lights on!! Shane and I haven't always been the best couple or even a couple at all. But after letting go of him cheating on me, going through my postpartum depression, having two kids, and finally just loving each other for who we are today, we have become so close. Once again we not only became friends but he became my husband!
Do we still struggle? YES! We have had years of not trusting each other, being scared to talk to each other, afraid of how the other would react that we do still struggle with talking to each other. When it gets to our kids we talk all the time. They are our world. We are always trying to improve them. We communicate the best when it's about our kids. And we are working on talking to each other about everything else.
Even through all the hell, Shane stayed with me. He became my best friend, my worst enemy, my lover, and today he is now my husband! He is more then I could ask for. I am grateful that he stayed through all my crazy psycho girlfriend stage. and because he stayed, because we made it we are stronger for that. We've made it through a lot. We've learned and grown a lot. But most importantly we've learned not only how to love each other, but how to show our love for each other.
If you were to ask me if I would change anything.. yes & no. I believe that we are who we are as a couple today because of everything we went through in the past and everything we are and will go through from now on. The only thing I would change is that I wish through it all that friendships/relationships weren't ruined. A lot of ties were broken off because of the cheating, the controlling, the obsessions, the lies, etc. I lost some good friends because I stopped going out. Shane stopped going out. Ties were broken between friends and family on both sides. That is hard to deal with especially when you are in a rough patch. But a lot of those ties have been rebuilt, some in the process and some are still broken.
I've learned a lot about myself, what I want out of my life, for my kids, in my relationships and overall what makes me happy! I am not perfect. I will make mistakes. Shane will make mistakes. We will disagree but in the end, we always work it out. We don't physically fight anymore. We don't go to bed mad at each other. and We always find a way to work it out and move on.
I am finally happy with where we are at in life. How far we have come. and most importantly how strong I have become due to all of this. I have learned and grown a lot due to everything that I experienced in these last 4 years of being with Shane. And today I can finally say I love my husband faults and all, I love my kids, and I finally love my life just the way it is!
After Shane and I got married we really worked hard on our communication. We wanted to stay together to work things out. We didn't want our child to be raised the way we were raised. I was in out of foster homes never really having a constant parent role in my life and Shane's parents separated when he was 10 years old. We both decided that for our daughter we need to pull our act together and become friends again. We needed to grow up. Act like adults and most importantly... Parents!
So that's what we did. We started to talk about the little things. How our day was and started to ask more about what each other was thinking. We started to do things together again and become close. Were we perfect? God No! We still argued. I was still having a hard time with letting things go. If we got into an argument I would say "you two deserve each other" because I knew that it bothered him and hurt him when I through his ex in his face.
After we had our daughter we became really close. He was my best friend again. after 2 1/2 years, we were friends again. More than that. We were a couple!! We talked about everything. Our past, my abuse, his parents divorcing, his true feelings of having diabetes, being parents, and so much more. We no longer were holding on to what had happened with Korrin. I forgave not only him and her but myself. I had to accept that I had overreacted and gone totally insane. However, there was one thing that kept getting between us... Nudity.
You see after Shane broke up with Korrin, I was his rebound. I felt taken advantage of. I wasn't confident in my body. I hated how I looked compared to the women in porn and in the movies. I hated seeing the naked body anywhere.. even in my own mirror!! I let him control how I felt about my self. That just deepened after I had my daughter. I felt even uglier due to all the stretch marks and fat that now hung down due to carrying a child for 9 months. At the time I didn't see the beauty in the mommy body. I hated every ounce of my physical body and seeing women and even men that were gorgeous and toned just broke me down even more. I limited Shane saying that movies with nudity, games with nudity and porn were no longer allowed. I wasn't going to tolerate that. He fought back. Every time a movie came out and he wanted to see it I would do research on it. If it had nudity in it I wouldn't allow him to see it. If a game had nudity I wouldn't let him install it, all because I felt like shit about myself.
I became obsessed with hiding my body. Making sure I was hidden. I stopped letting him shower with me, letting him see me get dressed, and even to the point of having sex in the dark. I felt beaten down and horrified of my body. I no longer cared about eating, or pleasing my man, or even talking to him. It all came down to my body and covering it up. Then after some time because I felt so bad about my physical body I started to feel like Shane hated it too. Then again.. after finally letting it go.. I started to compare. Constantly asking for reassurance that he still loved me and my body. I could tell that this was driving him crazy. That I was driving him away. But it was like vomit. I couldn't stop myself from asking. From comparing to every woman I saw. So I stopped all the nakedness.
Then I got pregnant again. 10 months ago I got pregnant. I weighed 180 lbs and hated my body. I never got over it and never could lose it. 9 months later I gave birth to my second child, a baby boy. I weighed 230 pounds after I gave birth. I was exclusively breastfeeding and being active due to the fact that my boy ended up in the NICU for a week after he was born. I stopped drinking soda and started to sleep more. I felt good about myself! I was determined to not feel the way I had felt for the last year and a half!
Then I got sick. I was clotting a lot after the delivery of my child. Bleeding to the point of exhaustion. On July 13th at 4 am I got really sick and couldn't breathe. I ended up in the hospital needing emergency surgery! I had to have my gallbladder removed. I was drugged up on painkillers and on a liquid diet and could no longer breastfeed let alone stay awake for more than 2 hrs at the time due to all the drugs I was on. I started to feel like I wasn't going to lose the weight. That this was going to put me back. A week after that surgery I ended up needing a D&C because the clots were so bad that I was having pain. Still bedridden I was worried. I was losing hope.
But Today, 5 weeks later I have lost 35 pounds! Even with all the holdbacks. I actually feel good about myself and my body. I can shower with Shane, change in front of him, and yes.. have sex with the lights on!! Shane and I haven't always been the best couple or even a couple at all. But after letting go of him cheating on me, going through my postpartum depression, having two kids, and finally just loving each other for who we are today, we have become so close. Once again we not only became friends but he became my husband!
Do we still struggle? YES! We have had years of not trusting each other, being scared to talk to each other, afraid of how the other would react that we do still struggle with talking to each other. When it gets to our kids we talk all the time. They are our world. We are always trying to improve them. We communicate the best when it's about our kids. And we are working on talking to each other about everything else.
Even through all the hell, Shane stayed with me. He became my best friend, my worst enemy, my lover, and today he is now my husband! He is more then I could ask for. I am grateful that he stayed through all my crazy psycho girlfriend stage. and because he stayed, because we made it we are stronger for that. We've made it through a lot. We've learned and grown a lot. But most importantly we've learned not only how to love each other, but how to show our love for each other.
If you were to ask me if I would change anything.. yes & no. I believe that we are who we are as a couple today because of everything we went through in the past and everything we are and will go through from now on. The only thing I would change is that I wish through it all that friendships/relationships weren't ruined. A lot of ties were broken off because of the cheating, the controlling, the obsessions, the lies, etc. I lost some good friends because I stopped going out. Shane stopped going out. Ties were broken between friends and family on both sides. That is hard to deal with especially when you are in a rough patch. But a lot of those ties have been rebuilt, some in the process and some are still broken.
I've learned a lot about myself, what I want out of my life, for my kids, in my relationships and overall what makes me happy! I am not perfect. I will make mistakes. Shane will make mistakes. We will disagree but in the end, we always work it out. We don't physically fight anymore. We don't go to bed mad at each other. and We always find a way to work it out and move on.
I am finally happy with where we are at in life. How far we have come. and most importantly how strong I have become due to all of this. I have learned and grown a lot due to everything that I experienced in these last 4 years of being with Shane. And today I can finally say I love my husband faults and all, I love my kids, and I finally love my life just the way it is!
Obsession Part 1
In August of the year 2010, I started school at Utah Valley University but this story isn't about school. This story is about how I met my husband, our biggest struggle, coping, and moving on.
You see me and my husband Shane didn't always have the best relationship. We had a lot of ups and downs these last four years. When Shane and I first met he was in a relationship and I was a lesbian. We met because of a class we had together called "Student Success". In the class, we had to be in a group and do group activities and what not. Shane, Korrin, Jessica, and I were all in a group together. Shane and Korrin wherein a relationship of four years at the time!
At the beginning, we all got along. We hung out, got lunch, went to concerts, and just overall were friends. Then things started to change. Shane started to develop feelings for me while still trying to be with Korrin. And I was going on dates with Shane while having feelings for Korrin. Shane and Korrin started to argue a lot more and Shane and I just became closer. Long story short Shane broke it off with Korrin. And Shane and I started to "date".
When Shane and I started to "date" it was different for both of us. For him, it was dating. He wanted us to be a couple. For me, it was just like being a really good friend all the time. You see, I was lesbian and I the thought of being his girlfriend let alone having sex or being exclusive with him freaked me the hell out. But it didn't take long before I started to develop feelings for him. I could talk to him, express myself, and not care about what he thought of me. October 2nd he asked me, yes asked me, to be his girlfriend and I said yes.
He became my best friend. We did everything together. He would come surprise me at work, stay at my apartment with me, stop playing his games to be with me or take me out. He was a real sweetheart. Not long after we started dating we moved in with each other and we were just really great. However, it didn't stay perfect.
While Shane and I were building a relationship and friendship, Korrin and I started to fight and hate each other. We were real bitches to each other. Shane and Korrin completely stopped talking for some time and I hated Korrin with every ounce of my body. I told Shane that if he ever talked to her again it would be over. The hard thing about this was... he worked where her mom worked and she often visited.
I trusted him to keep his word. To completely kick her out of his life. I had no reason not to trust him. He had never lied to me about anything. Or so I thought... He was lying to me. He lied to me about talking to her behind my back, about seeing her, having physical contact with her, and so much more. I started to see him change, we started to fight and argue and for months he was lying to me about having her back in his life. When I found out what was going on it shattered me.
I completely broke down. It felt like my heart was ripped right of my chest, ripped and torn apart, and shoved right back into my body! I felt disgusted with him, with her, and with myself. How could I trust him again? Why did I trust him to begin with? Why did I give him, A GUY, a try!? I was in total disbelief. I hated him, I hated her, I hate ME! I didn't confront him at first either. I let it boil and rage up inside of me. Constantly questioning him about his job, if he ever thought of her, etc. I started to change and become the crazy women in movies you see where you want to slap the guy and tell him to run! I was that crazy girl.
As things escalated and I finally confronted him about two months after finding out, it went downhill fast. We fought all the time. One day something snapped. I asked him if he ever had physical contact with her and he said yes. He told me what they talked about, where, when, and how often. He told me everything. What he thought when he was around her to why he did it. and I flipped out. I drank till I felt sick. I kept attacking him. Hitting him, running at him with scissors, kicking him in the balls so hard he literally fell to the ground and was gagging for air. I ran into the bathroom and just didn't want to feel anymore. I ended falling back into an old habit... I ended up self-harming that night. Then proceed to lay in the tub full of water. Shane thought I was suicidal and called the cops. That night I ended up in jail for domestic violence.
I spent a week in jail, had to pay a fine, and I was required to do a 12-week program of anger management. Shane and I had a "no contact" order in place for the week I was in jail. That was dropped when I was released. We stayed together but We moved into the apartment under his dad's place with his brother shortly after I got out of jail.
We had a long hard year. The relationship with Korrin was cut off. Neither one of us talked to her anymore. I had become a total bitch to her. So she was then out of the picture. Shane and I struggled. I became an obsessive, controlling, bitch. I wanted... NEEDED to control everything in his life. How he stayed with me at that point in our life I have no idea. We were constantly breaking up and getting back together. I was constantly checking his phone, emails, computer, everything.
In 2011 a year later we were still having a rough patch but had worked through much of the struggle. I still was checking his stuff and wanting to know who he was talking to, what they were talking about and if he was 5 minutes later home I would question him up the wall. I was tearing us apart because I couldn't let go of what he had done. He lied to me, I didn't trust him, but I loved him. I couldn't leave and neither could he. We always come back to each other.
On March 16th of the year, 2012 Shane and I were married. We weren't the best but I wasn't crazy obsessed anymore. We had moved on. Trying to fix what we broke during the last two years. I was learning self-control... again. Although we still had bad arguments our physical fights had lessened especially since on our wedding day I was 11 weeks pregnant with our first child. and that completely changed us!!!!
To Be Continued....
part 2 coming soon.
You see me and my husband Shane didn't always have the best relationship. We had a lot of ups and downs these last four years. When Shane and I first met he was in a relationship and I was a lesbian. We met because of a class we had together called "Student Success". In the class, we had to be in a group and do group activities and what not. Shane, Korrin, Jessica, and I were all in a group together. Shane and Korrin wherein a relationship of four years at the time!
At the beginning, we all got along. We hung out, got lunch, went to concerts, and just overall were friends. Then things started to change. Shane started to develop feelings for me while still trying to be with Korrin. And I was going on dates with Shane while having feelings for Korrin. Shane and Korrin started to argue a lot more and Shane and I just became closer. Long story short Shane broke it off with Korrin. And Shane and I started to "date".
When Shane and I started to "date" it was different for both of us. For him, it was dating. He wanted us to be a couple. For me, it was just like being a really good friend all the time. You see, I was lesbian and I the thought of being his girlfriend let alone having sex or being exclusive with him freaked me the hell out. But it didn't take long before I started to develop feelings for him. I could talk to him, express myself, and not care about what he thought of me. October 2nd he asked me, yes asked me, to be his girlfriend and I said yes.
He became my best friend. We did everything together. He would come surprise me at work, stay at my apartment with me, stop playing his games to be with me or take me out. He was a real sweetheart. Not long after we started dating we moved in with each other and we were just really great. However, it didn't stay perfect.
While Shane and I were building a relationship and friendship, Korrin and I started to fight and hate each other. We were real bitches to each other. Shane and Korrin completely stopped talking for some time and I hated Korrin with every ounce of my body. I told Shane that if he ever talked to her again it would be over. The hard thing about this was... he worked where her mom worked and she often visited.
I trusted him to keep his word. To completely kick her out of his life. I had no reason not to trust him. He had never lied to me about anything. Or so I thought... He was lying to me. He lied to me about talking to her behind my back, about seeing her, having physical contact with her, and so much more. I started to see him change, we started to fight and argue and for months he was lying to me about having her back in his life. When I found out what was going on it shattered me.
I completely broke down. It felt like my heart was ripped right of my chest, ripped and torn apart, and shoved right back into my body! I felt disgusted with him, with her, and with myself. How could I trust him again? Why did I trust him to begin with? Why did I give him, A GUY, a try!? I was in total disbelief. I hated him, I hated her, I hate ME! I didn't confront him at first either. I let it boil and rage up inside of me. Constantly questioning him about his job, if he ever thought of her, etc. I started to change and become the crazy women in movies you see where you want to slap the guy and tell him to run! I was that crazy girl.
As things escalated and I finally confronted him about two months after finding out, it went downhill fast. We fought all the time. One day something snapped. I asked him if he ever had physical contact with her and he said yes. He told me what they talked about, where, when, and how often. He told me everything. What he thought when he was around her to why he did it. and I flipped out. I drank till I felt sick. I kept attacking him. Hitting him, running at him with scissors, kicking him in the balls so hard he literally fell to the ground and was gagging for air. I ran into the bathroom and just didn't want to feel anymore. I ended falling back into an old habit... I ended up self-harming that night. Then proceed to lay in the tub full of water. Shane thought I was suicidal and called the cops. That night I ended up in jail for domestic violence.
I spent a week in jail, had to pay a fine, and I was required to do a 12-week program of anger management. Shane and I had a "no contact" order in place for the week I was in jail. That was dropped when I was released. We stayed together but We moved into the apartment under his dad's place with his brother shortly after I got out of jail.
We had a long hard year. The relationship with Korrin was cut off. Neither one of us talked to her anymore. I had become a total bitch to her. So she was then out of the picture. Shane and I struggled. I became an obsessive, controlling, bitch. I wanted... NEEDED to control everything in his life. How he stayed with me at that point in our life I have no idea. We were constantly breaking up and getting back together. I was constantly checking his phone, emails, computer, everything.
In 2011 a year later we were still having a rough patch but had worked through much of the struggle. I still was checking his stuff and wanting to know who he was talking to, what they were talking about and if he was 5 minutes later home I would question him up the wall. I was tearing us apart because I couldn't let go of what he had done. He lied to me, I didn't trust him, but I loved him. I couldn't leave and neither could he. We always come back to each other.
On March 16th of the year, 2012 Shane and I were married. We weren't the best but I wasn't crazy obsessed anymore. We had moved on. Trying to fix what we broke during the last two years. I was learning self-control... again. Although we still had bad arguments our physical fights had lessened especially since on our wedding day I was 11 weeks pregnant with our first child. and that completely changed us!!!!
To Be Continued....
part 2 coming soon.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Adoption .. my life in a new family
A lot of people don't know this but YES you can get adopted at ANY AGE! That's right, any age. For me, that age was 18. I was adopted on December 8th of the year 2010. I knew my adopted family from the age of 16 however.
I had first met the adopted parents while I was in a treatment center. I remember thinking, "Damn, these people are young and pretty. No way they're old enough to be parents!" No, they were. They talked about how they had 3 children of their own. How they were foster parents to my older sister. They talked about their goats and dogs. They seemed like really nice people.
We would visit often. They became a big part of my treatment and my life. On New Year's Eve of the year 2008 I ended up getting my nose broken... and that night changed my life forever.
The night I got my nose broken I was standing up to a bully for someone who wasn't able to. That pisted the bully off. Her hand met my face which was introduced to the door frame and SNAP! Blood gushed everywhere. Pain ran its way through my nose up to my eyes until my entire face felt like it was being hammered by a thousand shock-waves. I blacked out.
I woke up in my room at the treatment center but by the end of that afternoon I was being told to pack my bags and I was gone. These people who had been visiting me, that wanted to adopt me had called my caseworker and pulled me from my treatment center.
I ended up moving in with them. That's when I felt like I was on a never-ending roller coaster ride. Constant ups and downs. I loved my soon to be adopted parents but after a while, I really started to hate them and then resent them.
I wasn't their perfect little child. I liked girls and didn't believe in god. I didn't care for the religion or to even be a part of it. The fact that they were Mormon and I wasn't really got in between us. I only lived with them for a short amount of time before I was shipped off to treatment once again. I was sent to a short-term treatment center called UNI.
I started to hate them after being accused of watching porn. I had to do a school project on anatomy and had warned them about this. I closed any pop-ups that had happened but never deleted any of the history. Why would I? Well, apparently that got me into trouble. That night I had come home from work and I was drilled. They told me I was looking at porn and that I was in so much trouble. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I tried to explain to them that there were pop-ups but I had closed everything that came up and that I wasn't late to work so I was off by the time I was supposed to be. They had accused me of something I hadn't done and not once did they care to hear me or let me tell my side. I was instantly incriminated.
I no longer could see friends, have my door closed. I had to be downstairs and was imprisoned inside of my own home. I felt suffocated and disgusting. I hated them. Everything went downhill from there.
I started self-harming again and causing problems. I never listened or did chores. I always gave them attitude. I no longer respected them. I started to have dreams of suicide and drugs. At first, I would write poems about my dreams and I would even write about smoking pot again, although I hadn't actually done it. I was always taught in therapy to write in a journal and express myself. SO I was. I wrote a poem about the dreams and escaping. I never once actually wanted to kill myself. One day they had found these poems and writing of drug use and I was sent away to another treatment center. (The one mentioned before... UNI).
Once again I tried to explain this and I wasn't listened to. I was placed on a suicide watch for two days at UNI. I didn't want to see them. Ignored phone calls and visits. I was only there for a month or two before going to two more treatment center by the time I was 18. On May 13th of 2010, I not only graduated from the treatment center but also from high school. I moved into my final and last foster home that weekend.
I was only in the home for a short time before getting my own place. I was still in states custody but was living on my own with a job and attending college. It was a very hard decision for me to make but I finally got adopted in the year 2010 on December 8th. I say it was a hard decision because deep down I knew they weren't the family for me. All they ever wanted to do was control my life. Even as an adult.
Because of everything I was in my past, to them, I would never change. I would be rich just from every time I heard them say things like...
"You will always be the same old Monikah" or "back to your old tricks" to "There is the old Monikah".
I would hear this over and over again. I felt as if nothing I did in my life was good enough for them. Like I was that one screwed up child that they were stuck with and couldn't get rid of.
So why did I get adopted? How do I feel about them now? Has anything changed between them and me?
I got adopted to get out of foster care, to become my own person, and because despite all the shit... I loved them. They were my parents. I think in a way I was trying to replace my bio mom and dad(s). I never grew up in a family that I could call my own and if I got adopted I would be able to finally say, "That's my family!" I thought having that family would help me to cope and move one. I not only wanted but needed a family... I needed someone to finally call me their own! And they were there, willing to give me that. So I got adopted.
l love them but I do not care to have them in my life. Lots have changed between them and I but nothing for the better. I no longer talk to them and we are no longer involved in each other's lives. Yes, I do miss them sometimes. And I think about them and my 3 siblings (their bio kids) often. I wonder how they are doing. How things are. But my life, my relationship with my husband and my kid have grown so much without them in it. My husband and I have a much better relationship now. I am no longer stressed about pleasing them or trying to prove to them that I am a good person, a good spouse, a good mom. I am longer worried about what they think of my life choices or my husband. Their opinion no longer matters to me. I am a better mom to my daughter as I'm not worried about what they will think of how I parent or raise my kids. I no longer care nor am I worried about their JUDGMENTS!
I am proud of who I am and where I have come despite all the shit in my life. I have made a life worth living. I have gotten out of debt and am now helping my husband finish up his. I honestly think that my life would not be where it as gone in the last 6 months if they were still involved in my life.
So we love from a distance. I do miss them from time to time. I struggle with forgiving my adoptive dad as he is the one who as hurt me the most but I am working on it for me and my family. When holiday's come up it's hard because sometimes I do want to drive down and say hi, let them see their grandchild(s). But I know in the end that would only be a mess of problems.
A family is whats in your heart and life. Not necessarily the distance between. I am thankful for what they have done for me like helping with my wedding, being there when I gave birth to my first child, being there when I needed to talk about my relationship, or when I was going through the last 2 years of my bio mom and stepdads trial. Although they have done a lot of negative they have also done a lot of positive and for that I am grateful.
I had first met the adopted parents while I was in a treatment center. I remember thinking, "Damn, these people are young and pretty. No way they're old enough to be parents!" No, they were. They talked about how they had 3 children of their own. How they were foster parents to my older sister. They talked about their goats and dogs. They seemed like really nice people.
We would visit often. They became a big part of my treatment and my life. On New Year's Eve of the year 2008 I ended up getting my nose broken... and that night changed my life forever.
The night I got my nose broken I was standing up to a bully for someone who wasn't able to. That pisted the bully off. Her hand met my face which was introduced to the door frame and SNAP! Blood gushed everywhere. Pain ran its way through my nose up to my eyes until my entire face felt like it was being hammered by a thousand shock-waves. I blacked out.
I woke up in my room at the treatment center but by the end of that afternoon I was being told to pack my bags and I was gone. These people who had been visiting me, that wanted to adopt me had called my caseworker and pulled me from my treatment center.
I ended up moving in with them. That's when I felt like I was on a never-ending roller coaster ride. Constant ups and downs. I loved my soon to be adopted parents but after a while, I really started to hate them and then resent them.
I wasn't their perfect little child. I liked girls and didn't believe in god. I didn't care for the religion or to even be a part of it. The fact that they were Mormon and I wasn't really got in between us. I only lived with them for a short amount of time before I was shipped off to treatment once again. I was sent to a short-term treatment center called UNI.
I started to hate them after being accused of watching porn. I had to do a school project on anatomy and had warned them about this. I closed any pop-ups that had happened but never deleted any of the history. Why would I? Well, apparently that got me into trouble. That night I had come home from work and I was drilled. They told me I was looking at porn and that I was in so much trouble. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I tried to explain to them that there were pop-ups but I had closed everything that came up and that I wasn't late to work so I was off by the time I was supposed to be. They had accused me of something I hadn't done and not once did they care to hear me or let me tell my side. I was instantly incriminated.
I no longer could see friends, have my door closed. I had to be downstairs and was imprisoned inside of my own home. I felt suffocated and disgusting. I hated them. Everything went downhill from there.
I started self-harming again and causing problems. I never listened or did chores. I always gave them attitude. I no longer respected them. I started to have dreams of suicide and drugs. At first, I would write poems about my dreams and I would even write about smoking pot again, although I hadn't actually done it. I was always taught in therapy to write in a journal and express myself. SO I was. I wrote a poem about the dreams and escaping. I never once actually wanted to kill myself. One day they had found these poems and writing of drug use and I was sent away to another treatment center. (The one mentioned before... UNI).
Once again I tried to explain this and I wasn't listened to. I was placed on a suicide watch for two days at UNI. I didn't want to see them. Ignored phone calls and visits. I was only there for a month or two before going to two more treatment center by the time I was 18. On May 13th of 2010, I not only graduated from the treatment center but also from high school. I moved into my final and last foster home that weekend.
I was only in the home for a short time before getting my own place. I was still in states custody but was living on my own with a job and attending college. It was a very hard decision for me to make but I finally got adopted in the year 2010 on December 8th. I say it was a hard decision because deep down I knew they weren't the family for me. All they ever wanted to do was control my life. Even as an adult.
Because of everything I was in my past, to them, I would never change. I would be rich just from every time I heard them say things like...
"You will always be the same old Monikah" or "back to your old tricks" to "There is the old Monikah".
I would hear this over and over again. I felt as if nothing I did in my life was good enough for them. Like I was that one screwed up child that they were stuck with and couldn't get rid of.
So why did I get adopted? How do I feel about them now? Has anything changed between them and me?
I got adopted to get out of foster care, to become my own person, and because despite all the shit... I loved them. They were my parents. I think in a way I was trying to replace my bio mom and dad(s). I never grew up in a family that I could call my own and if I got adopted I would be able to finally say, "That's my family!" I thought having that family would help me to cope and move one. I not only wanted but needed a family... I needed someone to finally call me their own! And they were there, willing to give me that. So I got adopted.
l love them but I do not care to have them in my life. Lots have changed between them and I but nothing for the better. I no longer talk to them and we are no longer involved in each other's lives. Yes, I do miss them sometimes. And I think about them and my 3 siblings (their bio kids) often. I wonder how they are doing. How things are. But my life, my relationship with my husband and my kid have grown so much without them in it. My husband and I have a much better relationship now. I am no longer stressed about pleasing them or trying to prove to them that I am a good person, a good spouse, a good mom. I am longer worried about what they think of my life choices or my husband. Their opinion no longer matters to me. I am a better mom to my daughter as I'm not worried about what they will think of how I parent or raise my kids. I no longer care nor am I worried about their JUDGMENTS!
I am proud of who I am and where I have come despite all the shit in my life. I have made a life worth living. I have gotten out of debt and am now helping my husband finish up his. I honestly think that my life would not be where it as gone in the last 6 months if they were still involved in my life.
So we love from a distance. I do miss them from time to time. I struggle with forgiving my adoptive dad as he is the one who as hurt me the most but I am working on it for me and my family. When holiday's come up it's hard because sometimes I do want to drive down and say hi, let them see their grandchild(s). But I know in the end that would only be a mess of problems.
A family is whats in your heart and life. Not necessarily the distance between. I am thankful for what they have done for me like helping with my wedding, being there when I gave birth to my first child, being there when I needed to talk about my relationship, or when I was going through the last 2 years of my bio mom and stepdads trial. Although they have done a lot of negative they have also done a lot of positive and for that I am grateful.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Coping.. (Save a Life)
People often ask me how I got through all the horrible crap that had happened to me. How I was able to deal with it. How I am able to be here today...
Well, I've dealt with my past in a variety of ways. Some good and some bad. I have resulted in life-threatening ways and some that really saved my life. I will start off by sharing some of the negative ways I coped with everything then I will go into the positive ways I dealt with everything.
There were two things that made me escape everything that was happening to me until they became out of control... Drugs and Sex. I started out small. Drinking what my bio mom had in the house to smoking pot at friends homes and even behind my schools.
I started with weed and eventually went to a more drastic substance.. started meth. I would sneak out of both my bio home and my foster homes to go to parties to get wasted. I never felt anything when I was drunk or high. I never had to worry about who I was, what I was going to become, or any of those questions. I was able to be whoever alcohol wanted me to be. I could fly, I could dance on a table top with no care in the world. I became nobody while at the same time becoming somebody!
It didn't stop there. Sex became another way to escape. With sex, it was movement and freedom. I didn't have to feel pain or hurt but rather pleasure and excitement. I wouldn't feel abused or used but wanted and loved.
I used my body and drugs to feel what I felt like I was missing. Happiness, love, most of all to smile. I thought doing all this was the way to do it. Numb it all out but I was wrong. All the negative ways I coped where all wrong. I wasn't hiding or escaping to feel something more but to prove that I was still human. That the world around me wasn't all out of my control. However, even with the drugs and the sex, I did lose that. I was completely and utterly out of control!
I would fight and run away. Not do my homework or throw tantrums in class. All to be in control. Because that's what I thought it was. I tried to control as much of my life as I could. And I destroyed it in the process.
I ended up in treatment and rehabs. I had been in 3 inpatient treatment/rehab facilities from 15-18 years of age. When I was 18 I graduated from the final treatment center. The Utah State Hospital. I was there for almost a year and ended up graduating. I was no longer on drugs or drinking since I was 15. But I started to do other things while in foster care. I started to self-harm, I stopped eating, and I also attempted suicide.
I wanted to feel greater than I was while wanting to feel nothing at all. All these things did that for me... BUT only temporarily. They were never a complete success and for that I am grateful. If it wasn't for the people in my life and those friends who told me or called the cops to save my life. For the foster homes, treatment staff, I wouldn't be here today. I hated all of them at the time of course.
"Why would you stop me?!" "I just want to die!" "No one cares about me!" but in reality, they all cared about me. They all wanted me to be here, to live... I wanted to be here!
It wasn't all bad. I danced to feel free. To feel the beat under my feet, to feel the rhythm dance around me like a mid-summer day. Dancing helped me to feel free! I became someone else when I danced. I wasn't scared or numb. I wasn't running or hiding. And in some instances, I felt everything. I danced with the anger of what they did to me. With the fear of becoming just like my bio mom. Losing everything I wanted to be. I danced with my heart!
I also became more artistic. I drew many things from Disney characters to real life people. I drew pictures to represent pain and sorrow, joy and happiness. I still draw to this day. Not as much as I use to but I still love it.
Everything I did to cope I did it because I thought it would help. I know that there a lot of people out there who say that people who do drugs, cut, go anorexic, or even attempted or succeed in suicide are doing/did it for attention but that is not always the case. It does give attention but not everyone is asking for it. Sometimes it's done because even for the smallest simplest of moments everything is okay. You are alive, you are in control! NO, I am NOT saying by any means that any of the above situations are okay because they are not! They deserve to be brought up and raised to attention. These kids, teenagers, and yes even adults just want to feel something else. To not feel the pain of the bully at school, or the abuse at home but to feel alive, to feel free to simply... feel in CONTROL even if for just a SECOND!!
I know now that everything I did was wrong. And I wish now that I would have found other ways to cope. To not lose those friends that did make me strong and that did tell me when I was harming myself or totally drugged up. It's because of those people that I am still here today. Am I perfect?! GOD NO! I am nowhere near perfect. But I am glad that I am here today. That I had so many people in my life who cared enough about me to be here.
If you know of someone who is being abused, bullied or suffering PLEASE do not be afraid to STAND UP for them. & If you know someone who is self-harming, not eating, throwing up, or shows signs or talks about suicide DO NOT push it aside. ALWAYS TELL SOMEONE! Because YOU could be the person they thank 10 years down the road! The person they could be writing about. The person they see as a HERO in their eyes for they are still here today! Don't be a STAND-BY but the one who STANDS UP!
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
call 24/7 at 1-(800)-273-8255 for a skilled professional in your area
*You can call this line if you or someone you know is in a crisis call for more information.*
National Child Abuse Hotline:
http://www.childhelp.org/pages/hotline-home
call 24/7 at 1-(800)-422-4453 for a skilled professional
*You can call this line if you know of a child in need of help. To get advice. To cope as a victim, or for more information.*
Well, I've dealt with my past in a variety of ways. Some good and some bad. I have resulted in life-threatening ways and some that really saved my life. I will start off by sharing some of the negative ways I coped with everything then I will go into the positive ways I dealt with everything.
There were two things that made me escape everything that was happening to me until they became out of control... Drugs and Sex. I started out small. Drinking what my bio mom had in the house to smoking pot at friends homes and even behind my schools.
I started with weed and eventually went to a more drastic substance.. started meth. I would sneak out of both my bio home and my foster homes to go to parties to get wasted. I never felt anything when I was drunk or high. I never had to worry about who I was, what I was going to become, or any of those questions. I was able to be whoever alcohol wanted me to be. I could fly, I could dance on a table top with no care in the world. I became nobody while at the same time becoming somebody!
It didn't stop there. Sex became another way to escape. With sex, it was movement and freedom. I didn't have to feel pain or hurt but rather pleasure and excitement. I wouldn't feel abused or used but wanted and loved.
I used my body and drugs to feel what I felt like I was missing. Happiness, love, most of all to smile. I thought doing all this was the way to do it. Numb it all out but I was wrong. All the negative ways I coped where all wrong. I wasn't hiding or escaping to feel something more but to prove that I was still human. That the world around me wasn't all out of my control. However, even with the drugs and the sex, I did lose that. I was completely and utterly out of control!
I would fight and run away. Not do my homework or throw tantrums in class. All to be in control. Because that's what I thought it was. I tried to control as much of my life as I could. And I destroyed it in the process.
I ended up in treatment and rehabs. I had been in 3 inpatient treatment/rehab facilities from 15-18 years of age. When I was 18 I graduated from the final treatment center. The Utah State Hospital. I was there for almost a year and ended up graduating. I was no longer on drugs or drinking since I was 15. But I started to do other things while in foster care. I started to self-harm, I stopped eating, and I also attempted suicide.
I wanted to feel greater than I was while wanting to feel nothing at all. All these things did that for me... BUT only temporarily. They were never a complete success and for that I am grateful. If it wasn't for the people in my life and those friends who told me or called the cops to save my life. For the foster homes, treatment staff, I wouldn't be here today. I hated all of them at the time of course.
"Why would you stop me?!" "I just want to die!" "No one cares about me!" but in reality, they all cared about me. They all wanted me to be here, to live... I wanted to be here!
It wasn't all bad. I danced to feel free. To feel the beat under my feet, to feel the rhythm dance around me like a mid-summer day. Dancing helped me to feel free! I became someone else when I danced. I wasn't scared or numb. I wasn't running or hiding. And in some instances, I felt everything. I danced with the anger of what they did to me. With the fear of becoming just like my bio mom. Losing everything I wanted to be. I danced with my heart!
I also became more artistic. I drew many things from Disney characters to real life people. I drew pictures to represent pain and sorrow, joy and happiness. I still draw to this day. Not as much as I use to but I still love it.
Everything I did to cope I did it because I thought it would help. I know that there a lot of people out there who say that people who do drugs, cut, go anorexic, or even attempted or succeed in suicide are doing/did it for attention but that is not always the case. It does give attention but not everyone is asking for it. Sometimes it's done because even for the smallest simplest of moments everything is okay. You are alive, you are in control! NO, I am NOT saying by any means that any of the above situations are okay because they are not! They deserve to be brought up and raised to attention. These kids, teenagers, and yes even adults just want to feel something else. To not feel the pain of the bully at school, or the abuse at home but to feel alive, to feel free to simply... feel in CONTROL even if for just a SECOND!!
I know now that everything I did was wrong. And I wish now that I would have found other ways to cope. To not lose those friends that did make me strong and that did tell me when I was harming myself or totally drugged up. It's because of those people that I am still here today. Am I perfect?! GOD NO! I am nowhere near perfect. But I am glad that I am here today. That I had so many people in my life who cared enough about me to be here.
If you know of someone who is being abused, bullied or suffering PLEASE do not be afraid to STAND UP for them. & If you know someone who is self-harming, not eating, throwing up, or shows signs or talks about suicide DO NOT push it aside. ALWAYS TELL SOMEONE! Because YOU could be the person they thank 10 years down the road! The person they could be writing about. The person they see as a HERO in their eyes for they are still here today! Don't be a STAND-BY but the one who STANDS UP!
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
call 24/7 at 1-(800)-273-8255 for a skilled professional in your area
*You can call this line if you or someone you know is in a crisis call for more information.*
National Child Abuse Hotline:
http://www.childhelp.org/pages/hotline-home
call 24/7 at 1-(800)-422-4453 for a skilled professional
*You can call this line if you know of a child in need of help. To get advice. To cope as a victim, or for more information.*
RAPE AND SEXUAL ASSAULT
http://psychcentral.com/lib/common-hotline-phone-numbers/0001302
**Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN)
Call 24/7 at (800) 656-HOPE (4673)
**Abuse Victim Hotline
Call 24/7 at (866) 662-4535
Call 24/7 at (866) 662-4535
National Help Line for Substance Abuse
http://psychcentral.com/lib/common-hotline-phone-numbers/0001302
Call 24/7 at (800) 262-2463
Call 24/7 at (800) 262-2463
*This website (http://psychcentral.com/lib/common-hotline-phone-numbers/0001302) also as numbers for other instances such as Alcohol, Pregnancy, Medical, Running away, and many others.*
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
"The Story"
I remember it like it was yesterday. Everything that had happened, how old I was and in some instances what I was wearing. I was just a little girl when my bio dad went to prison and my bio mom moved out of our apartment into a house with her new lover. My stepdad!
They use to leave us alone for hours. My brother, sister, and I. One day they came home drunk. I remember my stepdad hit my mom causing her to fall to the floor. She was bleeding from her face and that scared me. I ran between them yelling at him to stop hitting her. He hit me straight in my face telling me to stay out of his way. That is the day I remember my mom changed. She started to then physically abuse us. She started to become just like my stepdad.
It didn't stop there. One day I walked in on my stepdad doing things with one of my other siblings in the home at that time. It was the first time I had seen this happen. I asked my mom about it one day and she told me that what they were doing was "family therapy". I asked her what was wrong with our family and she said, "nothing, I just want us to be closer." And that was that.
The first time it happened to me I was scared. I cried. I hated her! My own mother had at that point decided to sexually abuse me. She wasn't alone in this. I had become a sex toy to them. An object to help them "get off". I was forced to not only do things to and receive things from my bio mom but from my stepdad as well. They would make me watch porn in front of them while forcing me to touch myself. They would have sex in front of me forcing me to watch. If I closed my eyes or tried to leave I was hit and pushed down then acted upon.
After some time they forced my siblings and me to do things in front of them as well. We were no longer children, just toys used in their own sick mind games. It had become my life. The only thing I knew. And the worst part.. it didn't stop with them...
My bio mom had a trailer in the back of our house. The slut trailer. She would bring guys over to the house and go in theirs. Drugs, sex, and god know what else was happening in theirs. Most the men would leave but not all.
One day one of the men from the trailer had left the trailer. He had been here before. A few times. We came into the house from the back door where he hit my brother smack in the face and straight to my sister and I. My mom and stepdad were there the whole time, outside while he was inside with us, doing well what sexual abusers do.
We also had a babysitter. Two that I can recall. One female and one male. The female would hit us and never play with us. She would do sexual things with us too. The male, on the other hand, spent several nights in our home. Sleeping on the couch or the floor. At least until everyone was asleep.
When all was quiet he would come to my sister and me's room and touch us. He would lay in between us and make us touch him while he touched us at the same time. He would have intercourse with us while the other sister was in the room.
One night he had entered the room where he had gone straight to my sister's bed. She was asleep and I was awake. I sat up and in a shattered shaky scared voice, I whispered, "leave her alone. Take me instead!" So he did. He took me into the small bathroom in the hallway and made me take all of my clothes off for him. He touched me, made me touch him, and forced me into intercourse. This had happened on more than one occasion. I was sick of seeing my sister cry and hurt. So I started to take it for her. I would stay awake at night when he was over because I knew when he was over he would hurt one of us and I wasn't going to let it be my sister!
Finally, when I was 11 we all were pulled from the home, from the abuse, from the sex! We were put into foster care. When asked to describe what happened to me personally it was hard. Having to repeat this story in extremely more detail then what I just wrote was hard and heart-shattering. But like I said before it became just that. A story from my past that I was now able to tell. You may be asking 'why I would want to share this especially on a public site?'
.. my answer...
If I continue to hold on to what happened to me in the past.. what hope is there for the future?! I am not a victim of what happened to me all those years. I am no longer mad at them for what they did to me. In fact, I forgive them for everything they did to me. Why? Because not forgiving them will still be giving them control of my life! It's my time! I'm in control!
I am a SURVIVOR! not a VICTIM!
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Life as a Foster Child through my eyes
I often get asked about my time in foster care. If I liked it or would recommend it. My response to that is NO unless the child was in harm's way AND there was NO BIOLOGICAL family to take in the kid.
I was in foster care from 11-12 then home again for a few months then back again from 12-18 1/2. I hated it. Was it all bad? No. But I did have a lot of bad moments. Let's start with the bad and end with the good, shall we?!
When I was 12 I lived with a family in Payson, UT. I had my own purple room and was the only foster child. At first, things were good. We cooked dinner every night and played games together like families do. After a few months, they started to change. The foster dad started to yell at me. He became really mean. My foster mom paid no mind to my cry's and complaints. Near Christmas that year I was watching t.v. My foster dad came into the room and took the remote out of my hands. I told him to give it back that I wanted to watch tv. He laughed saying that it was his house and he did what he wanted to.
I called for my foster mom and threw a 12-year-old tantrum. He got annoyed at me and threw the remote at my head causing me to bleed calling me a baby. I ran into my room terrified to come out as I knew he would be even more mad for making a scene about it.
It didn't stop there. He would grab my arm, hit me, and yell at me. I was made to do everything in the house. I tried to tell my caseworker about this but she disregarded me. I stayed in that home for 2 months dealing with this before I moved homes.
I have been in many homes where when things got too rough for the foster parents they kicked you out. From one home to another I learned to not unpack my bags. I knew nothing in the foster system was permanent. No home, no therapist, no family.
I was a foster child. I was a liar, a manipulator, a bad child. If I did go to my case worker about something that was happening she would push it aside. Like I was trying to move home because I didn't like to do chores or whatever. But I was abused in a lot of homes. As a child in these homes being shoved around like a doll in a shipping box. You never stay with one person. You learn to not believe in family.
Foster children are treated differently. I was felt like I was just that. A foster child! Their kids were treated special, spoiled, loved, etc. While we did the chores, cleaned, etc. However, they weren't all like this!
My very first foster home I was in was pretty great. I lived there with my sister and another foster girl. We built a go-cart from scratch and we drove it around the neighborhood a lot. There was one time I threw my sister off the back of it on accident and she flew across the road. That was pretty scary. Another time we were home alone and she was sweeping or something and the handle was made of wood. Well, it snapped and it went right into her arm. Our foster mom at the time came home and took her to the Dr's. They were a great family. Even went to go visit them a year or so ago and found out that they had moved and divorced. We were sad about that.
I had another foster mom named Sherry. We lived in Provo, UT. and I loved her! She was the one who was there when I found out that I was abused as a kid by my own mother. The one who held me and told me everything was going to be okay. She cared about us. Her husband Glenn was the best as well. I remember going out on the weekend to look for rocks just to come home and cut them in half to see what was in them. We helped with dinner and chores. We were able to go out with friends. We went on vacations with them instead of recpiet. (sorry not sure how to spell that!) They were a family!
Where they perfect? NO! I got grounded and had to do extra chores when in trouble. I lost privileges and wasn't allowed tv time. I remember they called the cops on me twice the year and a half I was in their home. One for fighting with another foster child, and two for not coming home one night. I was called in as a runaway. They cared. I was never abused by them.
This is the good about foster care. There are foster parents out their who aren't in it for the money. They really do care about the kids and their well being. They want to change lives for the better, Not for the worst. The homes that even when it gets hard with one child they push through it looking at the good in them. The sad part, there aren't many of them out theirs. If money wasn't involved how many foster or proctor parents would their actually be?! My guess... Not many.
That's why I always say it's not meant for everyone. If you have another option do it. Try a grandparent, aunt or uncle first. Foster care isn't always the best nor the safest option for kids. But that doesn't mean its not a good option if all else fails.
I was in foster care from 11-12 then home again for a few months then back again from 12-18 1/2. I hated it. Was it all bad? No. But I did have a lot of bad moments. Let's start with the bad and end with the good, shall we?!
When I was 12 I lived with a family in Payson, UT. I had my own purple room and was the only foster child. At first, things were good. We cooked dinner every night and played games together like families do. After a few months, they started to change. The foster dad started to yell at me. He became really mean. My foster mom paid no mind to my cry's and complaints. Near Christmas that year I was watching t.v. My foster dad came into the room and took the remote out of my hands. I told him to give it back that I wanted to watch tv. He laughed saying that it was his house and he did what he wanted to.
I called for my foster mom and threw a 12-year-old tantrum. He got annoyed at me and threw the remote at my head causing me to bleed calling me a baby. I ran into my room terrified to come out as I knew he would be even more mad for making a scene about it.
It didn't stop there. He would grab my arm, hit me, and yell at me. I was made to do everything in the house. I tried to tell my caseworker about this but she disregarded me. I stayed in that home for 2 months dealing with this before I moved homes.
I have been in many homes where when things got too rough for the foster parents they kicked you out. From one home to another I learned to not unpack my bags. I knew nothing in the foster system was permanent. No home, no therapist, no family.
I was a foster child. I was a liar, a manipulator, a bad child. If I did go to my case worker about something that was happening she would push it aside. Like I was trying to move home because I didn't like to do chores or whatever. But I was abused in a lot of homes. As a child in these homes being shoved around like a doll in a shipping box. You never stay with one person. You learn to not believe in family.
Foster children are treated differently. I was felt like I was just that. A foster child! Their kids were treated special, spoiled, loved, etc. While we did the chores, cleaned, etc. However, they weren't all like this!
My very first foster home I was in was pretty great. I lived there with my sister and another foster girl. We built a go-cart from scratch and we drove it around the neighborhood a lot. There was one time I threw my sister off the back of it on accident and she flew across the road. That was pretty scary. Another time we were home alone and she was sweeping or something and the handle was made of wood. Well, it snapped and it went right into her arm. Our foster mom at the time came home and took her to the Dr's. They were a great family. Even went to go visit them a year or so ago and found out that they had moved and divorced. We were sad about that.
I had another foster mom named Sherry. We lived in Provo, UT. and I loved her! She was the one who was there when I found out that I was abused as a kid by my own mother. The one who held me and told me everything was going to be okay. She cared about us. Her husband Glenn was the best as well. I remember going out on the weekend to look for rocks just to come home and cut them in half to see what was in them. We helped with dinner and chores. We were able to go out with friends. We went on vacations with them instead of recpiet. (sorry not sure how to spell that!) They were a family!
Where they perfect? NO! I got grounded and had to do extra chores when in trouble. I lost privileges and wasn't allowed tv time. I remember they called the cops on me twice the year and a half I was in their home. One for fighting with another foster child, and two for not coming home one night. I was called in as a runaway. They cared. I was never abused by them.
This is the good about foster care. There are foster parents out their who aren't in it for the money. They really do care about the kids and their well being. They want to change lives for the better, Not for the worst. The homes that even when it gets hard with one child they push through it looking at the good in them. The sad part, there aren't many of them out theirs. If money wasn't involved how many foster or proctor parents would their actually be?! My guess... Not many.
That's why I always say it's not meant for everyone. If you have another option do it. Try a grandparent, aunt or uncle first. Foster care isn't always the best nor the safest option for kids. But that doesn't mean its not a good option if all else fails.
Monday, February 10, 2014
4 years of Struggles & Trials
Everything hit hard and fast. All the questions, all the people, all the paperwork, everything. I couldn't believe what was happening. Not just to me or my siblings but to our world! It was flipped, dipped, scrapped, and rubbed raw! The anger, The pain, The HATE! Swarmed around me in my now four-walled world. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, and worst of all, It was hard to love!
I trusted no one yet I had to tell the story over and over again for four years. If someone were to ask me which of the four years was the hardest, I'd have to say the first and the last with days in between. Why? Well, let me tell you.
The first year of the 'out coming' was difficult. I can't begin to describe the horror I felt every time I had to tell 'the story'. But even that became just that.. a story! I feared every day going into the courtroom or therapy session that I would have to see her! I was more afraid of my bio mom when I was my stepdad! Even though they did the same thing to me, to us I hated her more. The first year was all about facts and getting the story out.
The years in between were full of court dates, lawyers, being drilled, and a lot of questions. Questions like...
"what's your name" or "where do you live" to the hard ones like...
"So how long was the abuse happening" or "Did you ever see them hurt your siblings?" or the worst one "What happened.. in detail"
I had to answer these questions in front of people in the courtroom, a judge, the lawyers, and even THEM! Yes, I had to answer these questions in front of my bio mom and stepdad. It was absolutely the worst experience of my life.
The last year of the 'out coming' was hard yet relieving. My bio mom kept playing the system. getting different lawyers once things got to 'real'. Every time she did that there was a hold on everything. The lawyer had to be updated etc. (I'm not really sure all the legal stuff here..) But it took a lot longer than it should have!
I remember one day our lawyer had asked us to write a letter to our bio mom and stepdad. They wanted us to tell them what we went through and what we felt like they deserved and if we wanted to read it in court. So I started to write. I wrote that letter 100 times or more. Trash bags full of crinkled tear filled the paper. I didn't finish writing it until almost a week to the court date.
Walking into the courtroom that day was the hardest thing I had ever had to do in that 4 years. I knew that finally, it was coming to an end. I knew all this shit was over. So my sister, brother, and I wrote letters. My foster mom at the time had read the other two letters as they weren't ready to. I wanted to read mine!
I got up and I started to read my letter. At first, I read in fear. No one knew what I had written. No One. As I started to read and progress down my letter I got sad. Sad for me, for my family, and for my siblings. As I started to read the end of the letter I turned from the judge right to my bio mom and dad. I looked at them as I read. I wanted them to know that they no longer controlled me. I was my own damn person and they could rot in hell! I starred at my bio mom down as I read the last of the letter. After I was done I thanked the judge for letting me read. I walked with my head held high as I sat back down in my seat two rows away from them.
We had a recess after that. Not a long one, or at least not long enough. When the courtroom was seated and the judge started to talk, that's when it happened. The news we had been waiting for. They were finally sentenced! My stepdad was sentenced right away. My bio mom had 2 weeks to report to the Jail facility as she had my two younger brothers at home at which she had to re-home.
But it was all over. Everything. All those times in front of a judge, or being taped/video. To all the times I told my side of the story. It was finally all over. I knew for at least 5 years I was going to be okay! I was finally free of fear from them.. but at that time there was one thing I hadn't realized.......
Although I was free of them ... I wasn't really free ...
Friday, January 31, 2014
The Past and how it became known...
I'm not one to hide away. To keep things a secret. However, I wasn't always this way. When I was 14 I came out with something that had happened to me when I was a kid. It was the scariest most horrifying thing I had ever done. I remember the day like it was yesterday...
I had just got done having a "home visit" with my Biological mom. (I was in Foster Care, more on that later.) She, my mom, was helping me with my homework, math I believe it was. I wasn't focused on the homework as I was more focused on what my sister had said and done! She told. How could she?! I couldn't believe that my own sister had accused my mom and stepdad of abusing her, of abusing us all! I remember being so angry at her.
My mom stopped and asked, "Are you okay, honey?" I paused worried about how I would answer this question... after a moment of silence, I finally responded...
"Is it child abuse to show your kid pornography?"
My mom paused for a second. Looking stunned, and utterly shocked! Then finally she said, "Yes. I believe it is child abuse to show your child pornography." After another pause, she asked, "Why are you asking me that?"
In fear of what would happen and completely shocked by her answer I quietly and politely said, "I don't know, but I'm tired. Can we be done with homework?"
She said yes and that was it. She gave me a hug, kissed me good-bye and our visit was over. I watched as she pulled away from my foster home. I walked up to my bedroom and sat quietly on my bunk bed. Not soon after that, I couldn't hold back anymore. I just screamed and started to bawl. My foster mom came up into the room in a panic asking me if I was okay. Asking me what was wrong.
I couldn't answer her. I just sat their knees to my head and cried. I couldn't control myself I was angry, hurt, frustrated, and most of all I felt unloved and betrayed! My foster mom made me go down to the front room with her where we sat there in silence while she held me close telling me everything was going to be okay and to talk when I was ready.
Once I was able to pull myself together and look at her I simply said, "My mom abused me just like my sister had said!"
I remember feeling so stupid and dumb like it was my fault. I left my sister to look like a liar, my mom to look like my hero, and all along I was lying to everyone, even myself! I hated her. I hated me. I hated the world!
Within a week I was no longer able to see my mom and was hit hard with questions, therapy, and a lot of grown-ups wanting to know IN DETAIL everything that had happened. It was completely and utterly humiliating, disturbing, and yet relieving at the same time! But that's when it all came out. The abuse, the incest, the pain, the struggle that had become my life at such a young age. It was no longer my secret or my sisters and brothers. It now belonged to everyone in my life! I was no longer hiding and it felt good!
I had just got done having a "home visit" with my Biological mom. (I was in Foster Care, more on that later.) She, my mom, was helping me with my homework, math I believe it was. I wasn't focused on the homework as I was more focused on what my sister had said and done! She told. How could she?! I couldn't believe that my own sister had accused my mom and stepdad of abusing her, of abusing us all! I remember being so angry at her.
My mom stopped and asked, "Are you okay, honey?" I paused worried about how I would answer this question... after a moment of silence, I finally responded...
"Is it child abuse to show your kid pornography?"
My mom paused for a second. Looking stunned, and utterly shocked! Then finally she said, "Yes. I believe it is child abuse to show your child pornography." After another pause, she asked, "Why are you asking me that?"
In fear of what would happen and completely shocked by her answer I quietly and politely said, "I don't know, but I'm tired. Can we be done with homework?"
She said yes and that was it. She gave me a hug, kissed me good-bye and our visit was over. I watched as she pulled away from my foster home. I walked up to my bedroom and sat quietly on my bunk bed. Not soon after that, I couldn't hold back anymore. I just screamed and started to bawl. My foster mom came up into the room in a panic asking me if I was okay. Asking me what was wrong.
I couldn't answer her. I just sat their knees to my head and cried. I couldn't control myself I was angry, hurt, frustrated, and most of all I felt unloved and betrayed! My foster mom made me go down to the front room with her where we sat there in silence while she held me close telling me everything was going to be okay and to talk when I was ready.
Once I was able to pull myself together and look at her I simply said, "My mom abused me just like my sister had said!"
I remember feeling so stupid and dumb like it was my fault. I left my sister to look like a liar, my mom to look like my hero, and all along I was lying to everyone, even myself! I hated her. I hated me. I hated the world!
Within a week I was no longer able to see my mom and was hit hard with questions, therapy, and a lot of grown-ups wanting to know IN DETAIL everything that had happened. It was completely and utterly humiliating, disturbing, and yet relieving at the same time! But that's when it all came out. The abuse, the incest, the pain, the struggle that had become my life at such a young age. It was no longer my secret or my sisters and brothers. It now belonged to everyone in my life! I was no longer hiding and it felt good!
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