Nov 17, 2012
Some of the things i am about to write are going to be difficult for me toberite let alone think about, but i feel like now.is.the time to let lose of some more things. This is a story of my life, of all things that have gone wrong.
I was born on July 19th, 1996 in Portangeles Washington. I wasnt even supose to happen, and sometimes i feel like i shouldnt be here. At the time my mom became pregnant with me, it wasnt supose to be possible because she was batteling breast cancer and going through chemo treatments. But she did, and the doctors told her to abort me because there were high risks that i would be born with deformations or neurological problems. But she didnt listen to the doctoes, and so here i am today. After i was born, my mom had one of her breast removed. I wasnt really born with anything wrong with me except a couple years or so ago, i discovered i was born without ovaries and a small uterus after my mom became worried that i wasnt hitting puberty like i should. They did exams on me and discovered the absence of ovaries and an undersized uterus was reason being. That wasnt linked to being exposed to chemo though.
Here is the part that took me a lot of thinking before i finally decided to talk.about it here. Im always afraid i will be judged.
When i was 11 years old, there was a guy that always use to walk past our house carrying groceries and beer. My mom would always offer to help him whenever she noticed him. One evening, it was getting towards sun down and he was walking by with a bunch of stuff and i decided jusy like my mom did, i would offer to help him carry his stuff home. So i did. I only trusted him because my mom did. We got to his house and he invited me in to warm uo before heading back home. He had a really fat pug dog that i sat down to play with. It wasnt to long of me being there, and he decided to stuff to me. Im not comfortable with going into detail, so i will stop at that part.
When i got home that night, i didnt say a word to my parentd about it, i just told my mom i was at a friends down the street because i really did have friend down the street. They didnt find out until i complained of pain and was brough to the hospital.
All throughout my life, i have been bullied not only in school but by one of my older sisters as well, always calling me fat even though i wasnt, and always calling me names. She isnt nearly as bad as she use to be but she is still a little mean to me a lot.
I dreaded school, not so much now as i use to. I never had much friends, nobody ever gave me chance, or took yhe time to know me. They just picked me out of the crowd and decided to make me a.victim instead. While i was being called fat by my sister all the time, i was getting made fun of for being small in school. It was confusing for me because i didnt know which i was. As time went on, my self esteem faded, and self concience took over. Now, i always worry what people are thinking, or what there going to say about me, because of it I find it difficult to socialise, even with my psycologist. I shut down on everybody and i dont know how not to or even why. They said its social anxiety.
It tore me apary when i was made to move from washington, torn away from the only place i ever felt like i peice of. We lived into montana once before for a couple of years when we moved away from washington once, but i wasnt old enough to understand. I dont think i was even in school at the time. Then we moved back there and ive lived there pretty much most of life, i didnt care about not having much friends because i always found things to do there. The only thing that bothered me was being teased. One of my favorite things to do was go down into a gully and play on a rope swing thay had been there ages, even though i wasnt allowed to, because my mom said it was too dangerous down there, and the rope swing went to high. But i couldnt resist it :)Then i was torn away from there, thats where my heart is. I am still angry with my parents for taking me away from there.
I dont belong in Montana, i can feel it. They say home is where you make it, and Montana is not home.