So here I am writing the first blog entry in my new direction. I am continually amazed at how one moment you can be completely on the verge and then a word, a smile can change the course of your entire week. A little while ago a wrote to a band named Nevertheless and told them how their music and bloggings had encouraged me when I really needed it. When I wrote to them I hadn't really expected a reply but I got one and it brought me to tears that a band would take time out of their busy schedule to write to me. It blew me away it really did.
I'm just going to throw some thing that you should know. I have a class this semester that I hate. It might me more like that I hate the teacher because I think that if I had a different teacher the class wouldn't be so bad. I am stuck between a rock and a hard place with this class because I could drop the class and not have to deal with it anymore but if I drop the class I wouldn't have enough credit hours to qualify for the scholarship I am supposed to get for the next semester. I don't know what to do.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Different Direction
I have decided that I need to take this blog in a competly different dirrection. I am going to release my story and tell you you just my day to day workings. This blog will hopefully get updated at least a couple times a week. I want to expose my heart show you how I became Christi.
To understand you have to come back with me to the very beginning. I was born into the quid essential Christian home my dad was the highly influential member of the congregation who everyone thought was perfect. Everyone thought he was wonderful because he over came his disabilities of being a blind paraplegic and he loved God and loved his family. My mom stayed at home and had Tupperware parties for all the church women. My sister was born just days before I graduated kindergarten and was dedicated to the Lord when she was 2 days old. If anything my family and I deserved to be in a TV ad for a church. I became a Christian when I was 7 and the next two years were the best years of my life. That was until my dad died. The day my dad died started a battle within me that continues even today. Just barely one year after my dad’s death my mom fell in “love”, got remarried and moved us away from the only home I had ever known. My step dad had been married twice before and had 4 children. He thought his kids were angels and could do no wrong so whenever something went wrong it was me or my sister’s fault. He physically abused my sister by grabbing her nose and saying that thing that goes “I got your nose" he would swing her face around and she would get bloody noses and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had broke her nose one of those times. It took my mom 493 days for my mom to see through his crap and file for divorce. Yes I counted. After my mom came to her senses we stayed in Durango. About six months after the divorce my mom let my aunt uncle and cousin move in with us. My cousin Jessica is “special” or that’s what she made everyone believe. Jessica was put in special ed classes because she had people convinced she had a learning disability. Jessica didn’t really have a learning disability because she told me so. She said that it was so nice to just be able to float through school with out having to put any effort. Jessica made me promise to never tell anyone so I didn’t until right now I have never told anyone that I knew all along that she didn’t have a learning disability. Holding that secret for her was my down fall. After Jessica moved in with us she started having boys fall all over her. I still to this day have never had a boyfriend and within one week of going to school Jessica had a boyfriend. I was working my but off for my grades, Jessica was skating through school. I got more and more depressed everyday. Jessica would bring home school work having got a B and get never ending praise, I would bring home a paper with a B and get told to get the A next time. It killed me. The straw that finally made me completely give up was one day when me and Jessica both brought home a math test that we both had gotten an 86% on. Jessica’s test covered material I had mastered in fourth grade, mine was an 8th grade pre algebra class when I was in 7th grade. Jessica was praised “Great job” “we knew you could do it” “keep up the good work” you want to know what I got? “Good job but you should get an A next time” I decided right then that if they couldn’t praise me for my accomplishments I would stop accomplishing things. I stopped trying I walled myself off. I cried myself to sleep every night because I wanted so desperately for someone to care enough to notice I was hurting. Since I quit trying I essentially failed 7th grade so I was sent off to summer school. One day in summer school I went and sat down at a table with people during the break between classes and one of the people said go away bitch no one wants you here. That night was the first time I cut myself. I just hurt so bad and had pushed all the pain so far down that I just exploded. I cut and it kind of scared me how easy it was that it didn’t cut again for a long time. By the beginning of 8th grade I was very suicidal, I fully believed that God had abandoned me and that no one would notice if I just disappeared. I planned my suicide all out, I knew when I knew where I knew with what. I had one foot off the cliff I was so close to the edge. The only thing that kept me from falling face first into the abyss was a guy in my 8th grade class by the name of Jesse. He saved my life by caring, Jesse had never been where I was but he saw through the façade I had and listened when no one else would. 8th grade had its ups and downs but one of the biggest downs didn’t happen until the very end of the year. I knew that I was moving over the summer and I had written a letter to Jesse to tell him the things I couldn’t say, things about how he saved me, how I was so glad that I had the privilege of being his friend, and that I would miss him more than he would ever know. Someone jokingly said it was a love note and Jesse flipped out, he tore it up and threw it away without ever reading it. Jesse never spoke to me again I really have no idea why it broke my heart and sent me spiraling downward. I don’t think I have ever fully recovered from that event, I have a very hard time trusting people because I am so afraid that they will hurt me like he did. I moved back to Albuquerque and I started high school as the new kid. I am very quiet until you get to know me so I don’t made friends very easily, the fact that I am quiet also makes me an easy target for bullies so I got teased a lot during my first year of high school. This made me start cutting again. After freshman year things calmed down I still cut because I still tried to shut the world out by not showing anything until everything overflowed to a razor blade. In tenth grade I had a teacher who looked me in the eye and told me to go for my dreams no matter how impossible they seem. In eleventh grade I had another amazing teacher that showed me how to let go and have a good time. Twelfth grade was the year I was most stressed in high school I was preparing for college I was much more active at school. Everyone thought I was doing pretty good but they didn’t know that all the stress made me cut. I graduated the summer went pretty well until the end when I had to completely change my college plans because of money. I stayed in Albuquerque instead of going down to Las Cruses, New Mexico. Not being able to go away to college broke my heart and sent me self injury into overdrive. Self injury is an addiction and just like taking drugs eventually what you started with isn’t enough anymore so my cutting got deeper and I got further from who I wanted to be. Things just got worse over the course of my first semester in college, I had a teacher who treated me like dirt and failed me. On December 7th my little sister went to the doctor because she was having horrible stomach pain on December 8th she was admitted to the hospital with a burst appendix. I lived in the hospital with Sara for the ten days she was in there. Since I was living at the hospital I had to ride the bus to get to school to take my finals. On the day that I had the final with my jerky teacher I left with what should have given me plenty of time but due to traffic I got to the classroom 5 minutes late and my teacher wouldn’t let me in to take my final. Since I didn’t take my final she failed me for the entire semester. Since I failed a class my financial aid was taken away, since my fanatical aid was taken away I had to pay for my classes this semester out of my pocket. This brings us to 2007. On January 3rd I stopped my bleeding. I was tired of feeling the way I did. I wanted t be different I needed to change what I was doing to myself. I haven’t cut in over 100 days. I’m not going to lie to you not a day goes by that I don’t have the urge to cut but I have to remember to be strong.
This is my story and you don't have to understand you just have to know it is true.
To understand you have to come back with me to the very beginning. I was born into the quid essential Christian home my dad was the highly influential member of the congregation who everyone thought was perfect. Everyone thought he was wonderful because he over came his disabilities of being a blind paraplegic and he loved God and loved his family. My mom stayed at home and had Tupperware parties for all the church women. My sister was born just days before I graduated kindergarten and was dedicated to the Lord when she was 2 days old. If anything my family and I deserved to be in a TV ad for a church. I became a Christian when I was 7 and the next two years were the best years of my life. That was until my dad died. The day my dad died started a battle within me that continues even today. Just barely one year after my dad’s death my mom fell in “love”, got remarried and moved us away from the only home I had ever known. My step dad had been married twice before and had 4 children. He thought his kids were angels and could do no wrong so whenever something went wrong it was me or my sister’s fault. He physically abused my sister by grabbing her nose and saying that thing that goes “I got your nose" he would swing her face around and she would get bloody noses and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had broke her nose one of those times. It took my mom 493 days for my mom to see through his crap and file for divorce. Yes I counted. After my mom came to her senses we stayed in Durango. About six months after the divorce my mom let my aunt uncle and cousin move in with us. My cousin Jessica is “special” or that’s what she made everyone believe. Jessica was put in special ed classes because she had people convinced she had a learning disability. Jessica didn’t really have a learning disability because she told me so. She said that it was so nice to just be able to float through school with out having to put any effort. Jessica made me promise to never tell anyone so I didn’t until right now I have never told anyone that I knew all along that she didn’t have a learning disability. Holding that secret for her was my down fall. After Jessica moved in with us she started having boys fall all over her. I still to this day have never had a boyfriend and within one week of going to school Jessica had a boyfriend. I was working my but off for my grades, Jessica was skating through school. I got more and more depressed everyday. Jessica would bring home school work having got a B and get never ending praise, I would bring home a paper with a B and get told to get the A next time. It killed me. The straw that finally made me completely give up was one day when me and Jessica both brought home a math test that we both had gotten an 86% on. Jessica’s test covered material I had mastered in fourth grade, mine was an 8th grade pre algebra class when I was in 7th grade. Jessica was praised “Great job” “we knew you could do it” “keep up the good work” you want to know what I got? “Good job but you should get an A next time” I decided right then that if they couldn’t praise me for my accomplishments I would stop accomplishing things. I stopped trying I walled myself off. I cried myself to sleep every night because I wanted so desperately for someone to care enough to notice I was hurting. Since I quit trying I essentially failed 7th grade so I was sent off to summer school. One day in summer school I went and sat down at a table with people during the break between classes and one of the people said go away bitch no one wants you here. That night was the first time I cut myself. I just hurt so bad and had pushed all the pain so far down that I just exploded. I cut and it kind of scared me how easy it was that it didn’t cut again for a long time. By the beginning of 8th grade I was very suicidal, I fully believed that God had abandoned me and that no one would notice if I just disappeared. I planned my suicide all out, I knew when I knew where I knew with what. I had one foot off the cliff I was so close to the edge. The only thing that kept me from falling face first into the abyss was a guy in my 8th grade class by the name of Jesse. He saved my life by caring, Jesse had never been where I was but he saw through the façade I had and listened when no one else would. 8th grade had its ups and downs but one of the biggest downs didn’t happen until the very end of the year. I knew that I was moving over the summer and I had written a letter to Jesse to tell him the things I couldn’t say, things about how he saved me, how I was so glad that I had the privilege of being his friend, and that I would miss him more than he would ever know. Someone jokingly said it was a love note and Jesse flipped out, he tore it up and threw it away without ever reading it. Jesse never spoke to me again I really have no idea why it broke my heart and sent me spiraling downward. I don’t think I have ever fully recovered from that event, I have a very hard time trusting people because I am so afraid that they will hurt me like he did. I moved back to Albuquerque and I started high school as the new kid. I am very quiet until you get to know me so I don’t made friends very easily, the fact that I am quiet also makes me an easy target for bullies so I got teased a lot during my first year of high school. This made me start cutting again. After freshman year things calmed down I still cut because I still tried to shut the world out by not showing anything until everything overflowed to a razor blade. In tenth grade I had a teacher who looked me in the eye and told me to go for my dreams no matter how impossible they seem. In eleventh grade I had another amazing teacher that showed me how to let go and have a good time. Twelfth grade was the year I was most stressed in high school I was preparing for college I was much more active at school. Everyone thought I was doing pretty good but they didn’t know that all the stress made me cut. I graduated the summer went pretty well until the end when I had to completely change my college plans because of money. I stayed in Albuquerque instead of going down to Las Cruses, New Mexico. Not being able to go away to college broke my heart and sent me self injury into overdrive. Self injury is an addiction and just like taking drugs eventually what you started with isn’t enough anymore so my cutting got deeper and I got further from who I wanted to be. Things just got worse over the course of my first semester in college, I had a teacher who treated me like dirt and failed me. On December 7th my little sister went to the doctor because she was having horrible stomach pain on December 8th she was admitted to the hospital with a burst appendix. I lived in the hospital with Sara for the ten days she was in there. Since I was living at the hospital I had to ride the bus to get to school to take my finals. On the day that I had the final with my jerky teacher I left with what should have given me plenty of time but due to traffic I got to the classroom 5 minutes late and my teacher wouldn’t let me in to take my final. Since I didn’t take my final she failed me for the entire semester. Since I failed a class my financial aid was taken away, since my fanatical aid was taken away I had to pay for my classes this semester out of my pocket. This brings us to 2007. On January 3rd I stopped my bleeding. I was tired of feeling the way I did. I wanted t be different I needed to change what I was doing to myself. I haven’t cut in over 100 days. I’m not going to lie to you not a day goes by that I don’t have the urge to cut but I have to remember to be strong.
This is my story and you don't have to understand you just have to know it is true.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
