Past

It was terror, in a beautiful home. It was yelling and screaming, in the ornate living room. I was six, how was I supposed to know that parents were not supposed to act like that? Or that being beaten was not supposed to happen? What about having my parents putting everything else in their lives ahead of me, that was normal, wasn't it? Well apparently it's illegal.  The beating part at least but almost everything they did could not be healthy. Now I know something is wrong, right? Wrong. Well sort of wrong. I still find it all normal, this is my life. I just have to deal with it, right? Not completely I hope, I just don't want to get my parents in trouble...

It was terror? It was yelling and screaming? What was that supposed to mean? Isn't that what you grew up knowing that was normal, it was your normal. It was a time when everything was wrong because you knew best. You didn't turn your parents in. You didn't tell anyone. You lied, and now this is were you are in the police station being questioned because they pulled you from school wondering why you had so many bruises, and cuts, and broken bones. You didn't want your parents to get in trouble? You didn't know it was wrong? No one else in school looked like you, no one else was dealing with what you had to deal with...and you thought it was normal?

It was terrifying to be honest. Every day when I went to school I had to lie. Not just to my teachers, but to my friends, to my classmates and to everyone else in school. Nothing was normal no other kid was ever asked about their bumps and bruises, no, it was only me. I always wondered why no one else looked like me, or why i was the way I was. But that's who I am...not who I wanted to be...if you think I chose this than you must be insane. If you think I brought this onto myself you have NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT! I was abused, beaten, thrown, and no one ever cared. I tried to tell people, it didn't work. No one believes a six year old when they say their parents beat them. But it's true, it happens, it's time for people to step into the real world and realize what is going on. The world, your home, your school. They are not safe little bubbles that you can't get hurt in. They are the real world and it's time to step into it.  

Well you were the one who didn't step up to your teachers and say these are from my mom. You are the one who wanted to keep it from everyone so that no one would get hurt. But the whole time someone was...you. But, you never did anything about it, because it was "normal." Even though you knew it really wasn't you still did nothing...

You are right I didn't pipe up and say my parents beat me. Who would? No one. Not even you, I don't care how big and tough you are you wouldn't either. My entire life was a lie to not only to myself but to everyone around me. And yes I didn't want to tell anyone and yes the whole time I was the one who was getting hurt, but for some reason I was okay with it, because I knew...someday I would be big enough and strong enough to take her down. I wasn't always going to be the one getting hurt, one day I would give her back what she deserves. That's why I am so "tough" even though I really am not. I put on that front that no one can hurt me so that no one would ask me why I was always so afraid of things. This isn't what I asked for and yes it is not "normal" but you know what it's MY normal, and that's why I didn't do anything. You know what this is me and I am okay with that because it's over and you can no longer belittle me for what happened in my past and for the choices I made, because this is my new start...

To laughter in a beautiful home.

To love and hugs in that ornate living room.

It is over now and the choices I made then will affect my future, but you can no longer judge me on my past because it is over, and this right now, right here this...this is my future. Whether I like it or not, it is better than anything I have ever had before and for me that is everything my life needs to be. 

No more terror. No more yelling and screaming. I was six. Now I am fourteen, and it has finally ended, everything is over and here I am, with a clean slate going forward, because I didn't choose my childhood but I can choose everything else that happens.

No one can ever change their past but,

you can always change your future. 

This is Me

Author's Note: I just would like you to know that this is actually true, so when you are reading it every one of these things actually happened.

 When I was three I rode my bike up and down my driveway like it was the biggest place on Earth. My parents didn’t allow me to go any farther because I wasn’t that good at it yet. All it was, was a strip of blacktop running from our garage to the front sidewalk, maybe 20 feet long. But, to me it was like I had just traveled to the moon and back without thinking anything of it.

When I was six I played with chalk like I was the best artist around. Every kid in the neighborhood should want to come draw with me because I was the best. I look back now at the pictures my dad took, I couldn’t even spell my name right. Letters were backwards, mixed around. My middle name started with a “C” instead of a “K”. Back then it didn’t matter, I thought I was cool.

When I was eight I was in the 3^rd grade, and I learned how to do flips off the monkey bars. Everyone else had already been able to do them. But, I was scared. It was the first time in my life that I think I ever felt scared. One of my parents was always there to protect me, and make sure I was doing the “right” and “safe” thing. It was the first time I was actually scared, but I did it, without thinking anything of it.

When I was nine, I cried myself to sleep for 3 months – every night. This is when it started. My mom’s dad passed away, and we were best friends, and for three months that’s all I did.

When I was ten, my mom became an alcoholic.

When I was eleven, my uncle died from cancer.

When I turned twelve, my parents thought something was wrong with me…they were right.

When I was thirteen I was diagnosed with  GAD (generalized anxiety disorder). It was the most terrifying day of my life. At first I thought I was going to die. Then, I thought that someone was going to show up at my house and take me away. I ended up at Roger’s three times, and in therapy since it started. I was afraid I was going to get judged. I was afraid of the side effects of the meds, but now, it’s like my everyday routine.

Now I’m fourteen, and my goal is to prove to people that just because you have problems doesn’t mean that every day you have to fight and argue with people –like I do.

See, everyone starts out differently. Everyone’s first enjoyable moment, like riding your bike for the first time, is different. No one’s life starts out the same, but somehow we all experience happy, sad, tragic, depressing, horrifying moments in our lives. Maybe it’s because everything always ends someday, the friends I hung out with in kindergarten I don’t even talk to anymore. Some of the kids I used to hang out with I don’t even remember, or they moved away. I also know that everyone experiences that moment of being the “best” at something even though you may not have been, and then that moment when it’s the first time you have ever felt something that you have never experienced before. The other thing I know for a fact is that everyone winds up having some sort of anxiety in their life, it doesn’t matter who you are, everyone has it. Even me.

One day,  I’ll be off medication, and back to doing all the things I want to do.

One day, I will finally realize that this is not how I want my life to end.

One day, which is hopefully coming soon, I will be “normal” again, I will laugh, and smile,  and cry and feel  all of the emotions that everybody else does.

But, one day, I will also have to face the reality that this is who I am, and something about that is never going to change.

Unless, I want it to.

But that’s up to me, no one else can make that decision – but me.

Me

Author's Note: This is the longer version of the 'This is Me' post I had, so if you would like to read the shorter one it was my last post! Other than that, hope you enjoy!

When you fall down, do you always get back up? When everyone is telling you to start over, can you? When you don't know which direction is which anymore, does it really matter?

If your world is falling down around you, and you just don't know what to do, does it matter what anyone else thinks?

I have been trying.

Everyone thinks you can just change overnight. But, I have to find out where it started. What really made me who I am, and how I can change it. It's been a long last couple of months, even years. Going through everything I have gone through isn't even explainable. Maybe that's why I stopped talking about it, because there wasn't anything left to say. But, there is a lot left to say. Maybe I stopped because I was sick of being asked so many screwed up questions, or maybe I just didn't know what to say anymore. Everyone, when they find out about me, asks all of the same questions. Like, it's recorded and on a continuous cycle, and I can't find the off button. They always ask, “Where did this all start? Why are you doing these things? Why won't you talk to us about it?” But, the thing is, I know all of the answers, I just don't want to talk about it anymore because I decided that I would when I was ready, and I wasn’t ready yet. I think it’s time to be ready though; I’m hiding from it which isn’t healthy either, so I guess…I’m ready. 

Every day, she asks me the same question. My therapist that is. Every afternoon she says, "Are you ready to talk about it today?" Every day, it's always the same answer, “no”. Then she goes into some big ordeal about why I should and whatever else she says. I tune her out most of the time just because I have heard it so many times. Then when she realizes that I am either staring at the floor, out the window, or at my hands, completely not listening to her she decides to ask me another question. Usually regarding where it started, or something along those lines. I have never answered before, because where it started I never thought I knew the answer to, but, I think I truly do now...

I was two, or was it three? It was three, I’m pretty sure. Either way I was really little. I was sitting in the middle of the living room floor playing with my baby dolls, and the phone rang. It wasn't out of the usual, I was so used to someone calling that I barely noticed my mom stagger into the living room to answer it. When I turned around to try and figure out who she was talking to, I saw her face go completely blank. She hung the phone up and walked out of the house, leaving me alone…

 For what felt like hours, but was only minutes. Till my dad came home from a call from my mom. I don't remember exactly what he said. But I do remember him coming into the house saying "Hey Hans! Want to go for a ride?" My dad and I were and still are best friends, I loved going anywhere with him. I shot up off the floor and ran outside. A few minutes later my dad came out with two suitcases, being three I really didn't think anything of it. I just climbed up into his Chevy S10 and put my arms up so that he could put my booster seat lock down from above my head. From there I fell asleep in the car, and we showed up at my grandma's house, my mom’s mom. I was really excited especially because she lives really far away. My dad and I stayed there for a few days, because my uncle had just passed away earlier that morning. It was my moms’ brother. Where my mom was I didn't know, and still don’t. 

That's the day it started, the first day that my mom would never be the same again. She drank and smoked when I was even littler than that, but it was going to get worse...fast. 

The next two questions about why I won't talk about it, and why I do these "things." Are going to need a little bit more explaining. After the day it started, the day my uncle died. A few days later my dad’s brother was diagnosed with cancer. After just losing one uncle from cancer, and then having another one diagnosed a few days later was very hard on my entire family. Especially my dad, it was his brother, and he was what my dad used to say "to young." Which I understood. Everything kind of stayed normal after that from what I remember. My uncle got his cancer removed, and was doing better. Then when I was six my grandpa John died. My dad’s mom got remarried after her husband died (my dad's dad), and I never met him. So, my grandpa John was the closest thing I had. I wouldn't say we were close, because my dad didn't really like him, and when I was that young my dad knew everything, and everything he said was right. So, I just kind of went with it. Two years after that my mom's dad passed away. It was the worst day of my life, and forever will be. 

I stood in the middle of the kitchen in my uncle's house. He just got home from the hospital, and my dad's cell phone rang. It was my mom. She was yelling over something, we still aren’t quite sure what it was, and we really don't want to know. But, from the parts we could hear, she said. "I...not going to be....home....for a few days...dad's dead...going to Tex....don't....me." We pieced it together to become "I am not going to be coming home for a few days, my dad's dead and I am going to Texas, don't call me." Two weeks later I came home from school and the police were in my driveway, talking to my dad. My mom was in the back of the squad car. The cop was talking about finding her in her car passed out, on the side of the road in Madison. How she got there, we are not sure. But when they let her out of the car and left her with us she went straight to the bar, didn't come home for three days...I looked at my dad and asked him "What's wrong with mom? Is this our life now?" He didn't know what to say, so he just nodded his head and walked away. 

The next few years were all going to be the same. She would come home from work and I would get yelled at, and then she would leave and go to the bar and may or may not come home. We didn't know, and frankly I started to not really care about her anymore. My dad told me a few weeks ago that one day when I was nine or ten I came up to him and said, "If mom ends up in jail, can we not go get her out, and just let her stay there?" He told me later that he cried himself to sleep that night knowing that I really just didn't care about her anymore. I looked at him and pretty much flat out told him I didn't. She didn't want me in her life, why should I want her in mine. I tried making her a part of my life already, all it did was make my life worse. Her drinking quickly increased to the point where I couldn't have a conversation with her that she would remember the next day, after ten in the morning. I truthfully thought she was going to drink herself to death. I still do.

Now that I have told you my entire life story. I can finally explain the rest with it making sense. I ended up at Roger's 3 months ago, and went back a few days ago. Two years, three months, and 20 days ago, my uncle passed away from cancer. Yes, the one who was diagnosed a few days after my other uncle passed away. I stopped talking, I refused to go to school, I was so depressed I could barely say three words to someone before I got really angry and started slamming doors and yelling. I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder in November and went into Roger's for the first time in January. I get anxiety attacks, and sometimes I will pinch and scratch myself till I bleed just so that I know that I am still alive. My therapist, everyday asks me "Why do you do these things?" I can honestly say I do not know. I know I feel like my world is crumbling, and the person I want out of my life most keeps coming back. I was put back into Roger's a few days ago, by choice. I felt like it was in my best interest to go back. So, I did. 

It was a different experience. But, it was one I needed. A couple days after I came home I was texting one of my really close friends about it. I told her that it was weird the first time, but it wasn’t as bad the second. She actually said she was proud of me. Which is something I needed, because at this point in time I don’t know who I am, I barely know where I am. I feel like rolling into a ball on the floor and just giving up. But, I know if I give up I will be the kind who, “Couldn’t hold it together.” Or, the kid who, “Just didn’t know how many people actually care.” The thing is, everyone says that, everyone says that about kids like me. But, the thing is, that we know how many people believe in us. But, no one wants to show their support for the “problem” kid. You don’t understand us, until you have lived through what we have…and trust me, and everyone else like me, you don’t want to live through any of the things we have.

Everyone thinks, I'm that happy kid. The one who always has a smile on her face, and is laughing at something. But, it's not the case. I am a happy kid on the outside, so that no one can see that I am crumbling on the inside. I didn't ever talk about it, because I felt like so many people have it so much worse, that I don't have the right to complain.

But, I have an alcoholic parent, and I am one of those kids who have it “worse.” The kids whose parents wouldn’t buy them a $100 pair of shoes for their birthday, think that they can complain about how much their parents “hate them.” I haven’t gotten a birthday present from my mom since I was three…get over it. I don't show emotion, because I don't want anyone to see me as “weak.” But, if I was weak I wouldn't still be here.

But, it's time for me to "start over", and I finally know what that means. I need to breathe, and take a step in the right direction, not the right direction for anyone else, but the right direction for me. Which is toward the light at the end of this dark tunnel I have been stuck in since I was three. I have hidden in the shadows of this tunnel I dug myself into for way to long. It’s time to see the world again. I will still be me, the kid with no filter, and the kid who will stick up for herself, and everyone else, no matter circumstance nor person…

That is who I am. This is who I am. I am me.

If you have a problem with that, I never asked you to be part of my life anyway.

This is my first step towards the end of this tunnel, and as afraid as I am, I will not run anymore.

It's time to be me...finally.

Say What You Need to Say

Say what you need to say

As you fall

Someone will be there to catch you

If they aren't.

You hit the ground

But if they are

You are now in their arms

Safe either way

Learning 

Living

Loving

Say what you need to say

Take the jump

And take the fall

Because if you risk it once

You can risk it all

Say what you need to say 

And take the fall 

It will turn out better

either way.

Say what you need to say. 

Your destination

Your destination...

The one you have been trying to reach for months.

It's just in your grasp

But as it gets steeper to the top

You just want to call it quits, right?

Well even though life throws curves in the road 

And bumps in the journey

It doesn't mean that you should give up

You obviously deserve the destination,

If you have fought for it

If you have risked everything for it...

Your family.

Your friends.

Your life.

For that one thing you want the most

Then you deserve to reach the top of that mountain, don't you?

The destination is only the beginning. 

Of an entirely new journey,

Like a new bottom of the mountain,

That is just going to end up being harder than the last

But that journey will end too. 

For your next entirely new journey, to...

Your new destination  

Gone

"It's not much of a story. My mother died when I was very young, so I barely remember her. My father, the Earl of Almesbury, died just last year, but I never really knew him. He was---well, not exactly a devoted father. I was brought up by my companion Mrs. Morley. I'm glad to say she's with me still. At one time the earldom included a large estate, but my father squandered it all away, leaving me an orphan without means. Fortunately for me, Uncle Robert, his younger brother, has agreed to take me in. So---as you said about yourself---here I am."(14)

It was not much of a story, I have to say. Not much happened after this day. Jane arrived at her uncle’s house, a few weeks later her "boyfriend" went to war, her aunt shot her uncle and her fiancé died along with Mrs. Morley. No one had much to say, and Jane herself...changed. I couldn't say it was for the better, but I couldn't say it was for the worst. She became her own person, she wasn't under the control of her uncle, aunt, or her caretaker. She was under the control for who she was and that was good enough for her. "You have to make mistakes, before you can learn from them." (32) she'd say. This was true, mistakes had to be made before you were able to learn from them. No one would ever understand what it meant to her or what it means to other people. But Jane herself knew that she was able to live her own life without being walked through it by anyone.

Jane is the  main character out of many, but she is not the only one in control of her own life. Her aunt, uncle, "fiancé", and her caretaker; want to run her life for her, because she is the daughter to the Earl. From the way Jane talks in the story, it's mostly about how much she loves it in the new world. She arrived full of hope and excitement about her new life in the troubled colonies. But then towards the end of the story her opinion seems to flip, she decides that she does not like it in the new world anymore. It is because she showed up and was thrown right into the middle of a heated war. Not only was it between her former country and her new home, it was a heated battle between members of her own family. She knows that it's not the same here. Her parents are gone. Her family is in disarray. Her friends, well she doesn't quite know who they are. Everything is different and she just wants everything to go back to "normal", well her kind of normal. Living with her dad and her caretaker, in England, not in this "new world" that everyone thought was going to be so great; that she thought was going to be so great.

Now that she is here in this "new world" everything is different and she's not quite sure which way to turn. Anyone who has or did read this book would see that Jane is very straight forward, she states her opinion and moves on from the conversation. But she never seems to be able to make a decision because when she has to everything in her life tends to go wrong. That's when Mrs. Morley steps in and helps her throughout the book, she’s Jane's voice of reason. But only having this story written in Jane's point of view doesn't help readers understand why Mrs. Morley is so protective over her.

If this book was from Mrs. Morley's point of view, the story would have been different, she never wanted to come to America; Mrs. Morley that is. As they could see North Carolina in the horizon from the boat; Jane asked Mrs. Morley what it would be like. Mrs. Morley responded quite bitterly. "A backwoods outpost. I dare say. Like all the American colonies."(4) She had no choice but to come to America, she promised Jane’s father. “If you didn’t want to come, why did you?”(4) Jane snapped. "I've been your companion since your dear mother died so long ago, and because I promised your poor father. What a wasted life he led! The Earl of Almesbury at thirty-three, and his fortune and estate lost to drink before he was forty! It was his dying wish I remain with you."(4)

So as you can see Mrs. Morley wasn't too thrilled about this new adventure, but if this story was from her point of view it would have all started back when she first meet Jane if not before and the story seems to me like nothing good has happened since they have met, but that is something no one will ever know. If this book was written from the point of view of Mrs. Morley (Jane's caretaker) the story would have turned out quite different.  

*     *     *     *     *

Jane Three Years Old

On that sunny Sunday afternoon at around three, Mrs. Morley was in her living room, talking to her niece; who was visiting for the weekend. All was peaceful until she heard a knock on the door.

A few weeks earlier she had went down to the post office on the far side of town to pick up her mail. While she was there she saw on the “job board” a sign that read Earl of Almesbury, hiring caretaker for three year old daughter, Jane. Immediately she was interested, she had been a caretaker for young kids now since her early thirties. Not knowing this could end up being her job for the rest of her life, she wrote her address and name on the board and carried on her way.

As she rose from her chair and headed towards the door, she thought it was one of her neighbors or maybe someone who had a question for her. Never thinking it could be about the Earl job. But as she opened the door to realize that standing right there in front of her was a tall man. He was requesting to see a Mrs. Morley. As she stood there in shock she didn’t know what to say. So all she said was…everything.

“I am Mrs. Morley. The widowed that is. My husband died just last year and now here I am. This is my niece Alexandra. Do you have any family? Who are you? Why are you here, asking for me?...” as she was talking rapidly, the man didn’t have a chance to speak. She was so nervous someone was there asking for her she forgot to stop to let him answer.

“Ma’am” the tall man said.

As Mrs. Morley stopped talking a mile a minute, it gave the man a chance to speak.

“Ma’am the Third Earl of Almesbury has sent me for you. We will sell your house, and you will move in with him and his daughter Jane. You signed the board down at the post office the other day and he thought you were the perfect mother figure for his young daughter. Her mother died just last week and he simply does not have enough time to watch a little girl grow up…” as he rambled on about Jane, Mrs. Morley was just waiting for him to stop.

She was so excited that when he finally said “…when you are ready, come along with me.” She closed the door and ran up the stairs with her niece Alexandra right on her heels.

Meeting the Third Earl and His Daughter

As Mrs. Morley ran out the door, she was nervous, not just nervous because she was going to meet the Earl, but nervous because this was going to be the rest of her life.

Jane will be great! She thought to herself.

I just hope she’s not to depressed. Well of course she will depressed. Silly me. I remember when my mother passed away even though it was just a few months ago it was still pretty rough. But we will have a great time! At least I hope…

As Mrs. Morley sat next to the man on the way to the Earl’s home on the other side of town she was thinking of all the things that could go wrong, and once she got there she was so nervous she was shaking. Jane was everything she’d expected, except she was a lot more energetic and very opinionated for a three year old.

The years went by and as Jane grew up, her and Mrs. Morley became quite close. Obviously without a  mother Mrs. Morley was the best she had. They were incredibly close. But Mrs. Morley also became quite good friends with the Earl. So the day he got sick, was a day she will never forget…

The Earl Dies, Going to America

He had one dying wish, that she wasn’t quite found of.

“Mrs. Morley, come in here please.” The Earl said from his dying state.

“Yes?” Mrs. Morley replied.

“I have one wish, if I was to die right now, which we can pray won’t happen. Take Jane to America. Meet my younger brother in Charlestown and keep her there. But don’t ever leave her side. She needs you.” He was being dead serious.

“Yes, sir.” Mrs. Morley said, exiting the room.

He can’t be serious! America! Everyone thinks it’s going to be such a great place. Even Jane herself. But our lives are here. He asked me to pick up everything once, he can’t expect me to do it again. My mother and I discussed America those many years ago. We both decided it was treason to step foot on that land. Why there? Couldn’t he have asked for us never to leave this house? I would have been more okay with that, not America!

“Jane come here please.” Mrs. Morley said from the bottom of the staircase.

As Jane rushed down the three flights of stairs. Mrs. Morley thought about how she was going to tell her that if her father dies that they were going to America.

I could tell her that it’s for the better, but is it? I could tell her it’s her father’s dying wish, but is that too harsh? I could tell her that’s where I want to go if her father happens to pass away, but that would be a lie, wouldn’t it?

As Jane hit the floor right in front of Mrs. Morley it startled her out of her deep thoughts.

“Yes, can I help you?” Jane said.

“Yes I have something very important to tell you, come with me into the living room please.” She said.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked.

“Nothing.” Mrs. Morley responded.

But Jane could tell there was something wrong, and Mrs. Morley knew she had to tell her the truth.

“Jane, your dad’s dying wish is we go to America and keep you with your uncle, because if he happens to die, you will be an orphan and your uncle is your legal guardian.” Mrs. Morley told her the news and left the room giving her a moment alone.

One last scream from the bedroom upstairs made both Jane and Mrs. Morley jump. As they ran up the stairs they found Jane’s dad was now official gone, and they were really leaving.

“We’re leaving, aren’t we!” Jane screamed through her tears.

“Yes, yes we are.” Mrs. Morley gave Jane a moment alone with her dad and exited the room.

We are really leaving. What if I’m not ready yet? What if I don’t want to leave? I have to don’t I, I promised Jane’s father…

As Jane walked out of the bedroom and asked Mrs. Morley a question, she was so deep in thought she didn’t catch anything besides a couple words through Jane’s tears.

“…I’m excited… even though… gone” that was all she caught.

Jane was excited? She thought.

When she finally looked up Jane was gone. But they were leaving. She made a promise. Even though she wasn’t too thrilled of the promise she made, she had to keep it.

*     *     *     *     *

It's all in what you make of it.

It's all in what you make it.

In where it takes you.

It's all in what you want to make of it.

In which you make it.

Sometimes you can tell when things are bad,

But most of the time you can not.

Even though you thought you knew what was happening

Most of the time you are left in the dark.

From where you are right now,

To where you want to be.

Are very far,

long off places

that may or may not

be reached.