Why I am, the way I am. Part 1

"Be real.

Be bold about your weaknesses and you will change people’s lives. Be honest about who you actually are, and others will begin to be their actual selves around you. Once you cure yourself of the disease, others will come to you, asking if they can just “talk”. People are desperate to talk. Some of the most “perfect” people around you will tell you of some of the greatest struggles going on. Some of the most “perfect” people around you will break down in tears as they tell you how difficult life is for them. Turns out some of the most “perfect” people around us are human beings after all, and are dying to talk to another human being about it."

Wrote Dan Pearce from his article The disease called "Perfection"

For those of you who do read this know that I am (too) open. You probably think I'm either psychotic, messed up, depressed, realistic, pessimistic, hypocritical, bi-polar, whatever. Or you think I am all of these yet still choose to read my blog anyway. 

His words struck a chord in me and here I am writing. What you are about to read is my life in my words. I've thought about doing this for a couple years now, but, I never planned on blogging it. My plan was to write a book about an LDS family that lived a life that was anything but the 'perfect LDS lifestyle'. 

Please know before reading this that I don't want your pity. I grew up with my extended family feeling sorry for me my whole life. I'm an adult now and what is done, is done. The past can't be re-written. Though I shouldn't have to explain myself to anyone, the purpose of this is so I can be understood so I can help others who may be experiencing what I have in my life and to let them know that they are not alone. There is a lot to say so, I will be doing this in installments, hence why this is part 1. 

Foreword

      From his article "Perfection", Pearce's words and thoughts have bounced around my head since I read them. The 'disease' has plagued me for a long time. I feel like everyone else's lives are "perfect" and mine isn't. When I say everyone else, I mean people, my age, who are also married. They get married and the bride's new husband is already established with a job and money so they move into a house almost immediately after the wedding. Or they can afford a new car, or can travel the world and go on lavish vacations or spent hundreds of dollars on their anniversary or on presents for each other or both graduate college within a year after getting married, or can focus on bringing children in the world because they are in the position in their lives to do so; they can move on, go forward in the game of life (pun intended). These couples always say or convey that 'marriage is the best!' and 'I love being sealed to my best friend for eternity!' These aforementioned situations make me jealous and angry. 

Life from Kindergarten to 6th grade

      I HATE struggling. There are no words to describe how much I loathe and despise this lifestyle. I remember my parents kissing each other once and I was probably 2, maybe 3 years old. Thats the only affection I remember. 

      I have blocked out my entire "childhood" because its my coping mechanism. From what I can remember, all there was in that era of my life was violence, holes in the walls, yelling, fear, hatred, pain, and loneliness. After my grandma died, I was barely 5, and my mom mentally, spiritually, and emotionally checked out. She was sick; she was suicidal. My dad, whom we were terrified of for years, hated being around her so he became a work-a-holic and was never home; so, physically, he wasn't there. Since I was the oldest, I became the "parent". I took care of myself, and my brother who was barely 4, and my sister who was 2 1/2. I cooked. I got us ready for school. I was the protector when they were scared. 

      When I was 6 or 7, I was raped by a neighbor boy. I never said anything and I internalized it believeing it was my fault and that my parents would hate and dis-own me if they knew. I was diagnosed with depression. At age 9, we moved and I chose to be held back in school because I was struggling so much, so, I did 4th grade again; I went from being the youngest to being the oldest in class. I started Prozac for my depression and Adderall for my ADD. In 5th grade, at age 11, I attempted suicide. I knew that people died from slicing their wrist, I just didn't know that it needed to be a deep, vertical cut. So, I took some sharp scissors and cut both my arms up on top and bottom. After I was done, I realized what I did was wrong, so I went looking for my mom and found that she was on the phone. When we were younger, my parents taught us that you wait patiently until the adult is finished talking on the phone to speak to them. So, there I stood, bleeding and patiently waiting for my mom to get off the phone. After a few minutes she glances my way and when she saw the blood, she immediately got off the phone and she asked why didn't I say something. I simply told her that I was waiting for her to get off the phone like we were told to. She then said that if its an emergency, its OK to interrupt. After I was all cleaned up, you could still tell that I was cut up. My mom was fretting about me going to school the next day. She told me that if anyone asked, that I got attacked by a cat. I told her that that was lying and I didn't want to lie. She thoughtfully stated that this was something that other people didn't need to know the truth about. So, that was the lie I told all week. A boy from school who asked about it responded back that "those don't look like cat scratches..". To this day, I still have a couple scars left as a reminder. Later that year, my parents finally got divorced after my mom passed her nursing test. The summer I turned 12, I had my first "boyfriend" and kiss. Since I didn't have a male influence in my life, I went looking for one. This started me on a dark path where boys were concerned and it took me years to know that it was ok to eventually date boys and its ok to trust them. I also finally told my mom that I was raped, but, actually said that I "had sex" because it wasn't 'til much later in life that I realized that I really was raped and thats why I had depression for 6 years. Around this time was when I stopped taking medication and I was "cured" from my depression. My brother found his coping mechanism and discovered smoking cigarettes and weed. He was arrested for his first time when he was in 5th grade. I will never forget that night when I watched my brother being escorted out by the cops in hand cuffs. 

After Thoughts

      All of my elementary life, at all 3 schools I went to, were hell. You couldn't pay me enough money to repeat this part of my life. In the first school, I had only 1 friend, in the last school, I had only 1 friend, the 2nd school, the only friend I had, was my teacher. I hated recess, I asked every day if I could stay inside. You know the one kid in class that always got picked on? That was me. Every year, at every school. I was beat up, harassed, made fun of, and was teased about my clothes because we were poor and I had to dress myself every day with what we had. I really never got along with anyone my age. Even when I was 5 and my parents friends came over with their families and the adults were talking upstairs and the kids were playing downstairs, I was upstairs with the adults. By choice. 

      I dislike children because of my elementary school experience; do you blame me? I have a hard time still to this day trusting anyone I went to elementary school with. I tried forgiving them and moving on, but, I discovered that some people just-don't-change. Those who I have tried to 'let in my life' just ended up burning me, again, and I want nothing to do with them and I think they can go to hell. Part of me feels bad because I'm big on "2nd chances", but, I think they had their chance to apologize and make things right or whatever and I think they blew it. Yes, I realize it's not Christ-like, but, I'm only human, I'm not perfect.

      I was never a kid. I was an adult by the time I was 7. I knew things that I shouldn't know at that age about sex, my parents, and had worries that I should not have even known about until I was 17. I may only be 23, but I feel like I am in my 30's. I have an "old soul". I have always thought that most people my age are immature, rude/mean, judgmental, and not as fun to be around.  It kills me every time when I say something from my past and someone says, "Really? I would have never thought! You're so __________!" (insert 'pretty', 'nice', etc., I've heard it all.) I didn't have any friends growing up at all, really. The friends I did have were "in and out" because my depression kept me locked in my room when normal kids were outside playing. I've never had any friends from church, either. I was depressed with a dysfunctional family and everyone else's parents didn't hate each or weren't divorced, so, the other kids never understood me. Which is why I don't have many LDS friends today. About 90% the friends I do have that are LDS are in their 30's-40's or older and have children of their own, are done having children, or are grandparents. The other 10% are mostly all Dallin's friends from his mission or high school. I don't really have any of my own friends. Those of you who are in the 10% and are my friends, I love and appreciate you very much! 

Keep an eye out for Part 2.