Hard Knock Life Pt. 1

I cannot explain what causes these flashbacks from time to time, but I wish I did. If I could discover the source of these mental images, I would ensure that I steered clear from them forever. I am not usually one to talk about events in my past. There are a lot of things that I am not proud of. But there are also many things that I had no control over. These tend to bother me the most. There is nothing to be done about them though. I used to write about them a lot. However, my family is not one of privacy. And once I found that my thoughts were no longer my own, I gave up on that release. Soon after I started blogging. But, eventually I was too busy. I am hoping that I will always have time to get things off my mind. This way, I can let it all out without worrying about another person's response to it all.

I can think back to a time when I was happy. I am not implying that I am not happy now. But childhood happiness is much different. It was back when things were unjaded. Back when it was alright to have flaws. Life was full of snow cones in the summer, running around for no reason, sleepovers, and my mother helping me set up fashion shows complete with runway music and a camcorder. I would stay with my grandpa a few weeks out of the summer and he would take me four wheeler riding with my sisters and weekend getaways in his cabin. Christmas was full of popcorn stringing, the smell of pepermint and pine needles, and our old Chipmunks Christmas album on vinyl. My sister, Crystal, and I actually got along. In fact, we were best friends. We did everything together. The only thing I had to worry about was the oncoming rain that would soon wash away my sidewalk chalk drawings, losing at hangman, and getting rid of the chickenpox in time to go back to school and see my friends again.

Then reality strikes. I am now consumed by stress and worry on a daily basis. And flaws can break you. A day came when I realized that snowcones were more ice than syrup, and they always end up leaking their stickiness all over the place. Who has time to run? Unless you get up at six am. Oh, but I do. Only, so I can make it to class on time. Sleepovers are now full of gossip and girl talk about how guys have used and mistreated us all. Eventually, I grew up and realized that I'm about a foot too short to make it in the fashion industry and my mother really was my only fan. I was eventually old enough to understand that my grandpa was schizophrenic and had been carrying too much baggage from his time in Vietnam. It became pretty clear once he blew his head off in front of our little clubhouse two days before I was supposed to come visit. Christmas is now full of stress and listening to my parents try to find a way to provide for their three girls and still be able to stay afloat and make ends meet. The Chipmunks album has long been broken and for the most part forgotten. Crystal and I do not get along. We have separate social scenes. She is horrid to people. She tends to be a trouble maker. She's a substance abuser and is almost always engulfed in a cloud of smoke. Chalk is so hard to get off your hands. A few friends have taken hangman to a more literal meaning. Other friends have moved away to attend their own schools and to make new friends.

Sure, lots of people grow up and encounter unfortunate events that throw their lives off track. Let's try finding out at the age of nine that your dad isn't really your dad. My "dad" still lives in Boise, Idaho. Never once did he try to find me. But, that's because he didn't know if my mother wanted him to contact me. Then, he tries to walk into my life when I'm a Senior in high school. My aunt found him online and started talking to him. Maybe I would have liked to have been asked if I wanted to talk to him before he was thrown into my life out of nowhere. Then, he starts trying to talk to me on Myspace. MYSPACE. Do not talk to me like we are buddies. We aren't buddies and we won't ever be. And while he was off doing God knows what, my mother and stepdad took up experimental drugs with the thought in mind that they wouldn't let it get out of control. OUT OF CONTROL? As if it's perfectly fine as long as no one can tell that something is going on. Well, they broke their promise to eachother. First went the jobs, then the car, and by the time my mother got her act together, the house was gone as well. She left my dad and we moved into another house outside of town and away from the craziness. But before long, my stepdad had "straightened up." He moved in with us. Then came the time period where we were not allowed to be in the garage. My mother knew what was going on again, but let it continue. She slipped into a depression and when she wasn't at work, she was closed up in her room sleeping all day. Then came the police breaking in the door. Oh! Another one of Salem's countless meth raids. Go figure. Luckily, my two sisters weren't home. On this particular night though, a lot of my family was over just hanging out. Unfortunately, I have a delinquent cousin who decided to cook something fresh out back while everyone else was inside the house. Needless to say, he was young and claimed it wasn't his. I was bound and taken to jail with the rest. Once there, I was cuffed and had the pleasure of spending the night in an interrogation room. Then, after hours, some officers came in to talk to me. They had the nerve to tell me that I could be charged just for being there. Oh yes, sorry officers! I had no place being at my OWN house. Gosh, at the age of 15 I really should have had better places to be nearing curfew. They eventually let me leave after I cussed a cop out. Needless to say, they lied about everything I said in the room while in court. They didn't even have me sign anything. My stepdad was sent to prison for about a year. My mom was held in jail for a month before they let her off of a conspiracy charge. During this time, my sisters and I moved to Mt. Vernon to live with my aunt. Once my mom was released, we moved a few streets over to live with my grandma. We had lost the house and much of what was in it had been vandalised and stolen. I made the half hour trip to and from work all my Sophomore. And despite all the bad that had happened, it was my greatest year of school. I loved my friends, and loved my church, and I was active in everything my school had to offer. Then, one day I realized that my church was as close to a cult as it could possibly be. I tried to distance myself and try out some new churches. For this I was outcasted and all my wonderful church friends, best friends believed I was no good. At least, that's what their parents told them. I was a frequent topic over lunch after Sunday morning church. Once again, I dove into the music scene. Like many, I found a release in it. My mom found a cruddy two bedroom apartment, and we moved back to Salem for my Junior year. Soon after, my dad came home and the five of us were crammed into the two bedroom apartment where they are still living. I no longer felt the need to please people. But people were drawn to me for my blatant honesty and sincerity. I dated a lot. It was nice. I met a lot of great people and made some really good friends. I met a boy. His name was Justin. He was great, then he was horrid, then he was everything I needed. I joined the Guard and left for Basic. He was the only person that wrote me regularly. Nearly every day actually. I came home; he proposed. We connected on a level that I didn't even know we could. I moved in with him in Centralia and started making the 30 minute drive to school everyday for my Senior year in high school. I loved him with all I had. And he loved me in return. However, we took things too fast. We acted as though we were married. Neither one of us was ready for it. We didn't give eachother enough space and soon all we did was argue. Trust issues developed, and we couldn't deal with it anymore. So, I moved out and back to Mt. Vernon with my grandma.

Now, I'm just trying to pick up the pieces and move forward. There's so much more to it. There is so much more to me. But I'll save that for another day. Rainclouds and Sunshine to come.