Self-Justification: A CHILDHOOD OF TRAUMA

2. My Adolescent Years

I found out I was to be a big sister again in 1998. My baby sister was born in June of 1999. It was a bit easier to accept than the previous pregnancy. She was born with eyes the color of the sea. I had another sibling to protect from all the atrocious happenings within our lives. Things were normal for a while, my parents went through this faze of loving each other so unconditionally, that they hardly fought. It was a relief to just worry about being a kid. I made some new friends and they would even come to my house. One of them I am still  close with, though she has no idea that any of this was happening right down the road from her house. I would put up a flawless public facade, masking my inner hurt and despair.

It was the morning of February 8, 2000, my mother's 33rd birthday. George had retired the Christmas prior, yes he received both a christmas gift and retirement gift that year. This was his last morning driving. I said my goodbyes as I exited the bus that morning. I then boarded another bus headed to the middle school. I was down at the middle school participating in the district spelling bee. The local volunteer fire department was stationed behind the school. We could hear the whistle go off signaling a fire. There were so many trucks, I had this eerie feeling go through my body making me shiver. I brushed it off and chalked it up to it being due to the amount of sirens that were heard. It sounded like a horrible fire. I prayed that everyone would make it out unharmed. They called my name to approach the podium.

I did well, didn't come in first, but was proud nonetheless. We then bussed back to the highschool, I placed my materials back into my locker then headed to the cafeteria for lunch. I took my usual seat across from my cousin, a mixture of our friends surrounding us at the table. A respectable guy a few years ahead of me in school brought in a note from the office. He placed it in front of me. It was a bus pass to be dropped off at my cousin's house. We were absolutely overjoyed! We went through the rest of the day making plans for that evening. Upon arriving at her house, I placed my bag and jacket in the mudroom, then walked in to sit at the table with my uncle. The phone rang, my aunt answered the phone and handed it to me. It was my mother on the other end, she told me that we had lost the house in a fire, that she and both of my little sisters got out without injury. The sirens I had heard that morning; they were going to try and save my house, my family while I sat there completely oblivious to it all. 

Walking through the house after the fire was extremely difficult. We attempted to salvage as much as possible. My room was towards the back of the trailer. I remember thinking of how lucky my mom and sisters were that they made it out of that house without incident. The floor was burnt away from the outside of my bedroom door, down the length of the hallway to my parents room. The adjoining bathroom to my bedroom was also missing a floor. From the memories of my mother, after getting both girls out to safety in the car, she went back into the burning house grabbing pets and photos and nick knacks. There wasn't much to salvage from the ruined house. 

I got my first job in August of 2000. I thought I was pretty cool being 14 and going to work after school. I was in junior high, some of the most trying years of school. I would attend classes then would go home and change, then be at work by 4pm. I would work until 8pm washing dishes at a local care facility for the physical and mentally disabled. It was hard at times, but the extra money was always nice. I wish I would have did better with saving that money or investing it. I was young and foolish.  

We moved, my parents buying a house a little ways up the road from my mother's sister. I loved being close to them. I would ride my bike down the gravel road any chance I had in order to hang out with my cousin and her friends. I have always appreciated and respected my mother's side of the family. There is such a genuine feeling of love and concern about one-another with them, Something my father's side, I felt lacked entirely, unless it is something that would benefit them in the long run. There are a few family members that I still try to see and talk to as often as I can. They know who they are, and if they ever need me I would try my damnedest to be there. It is not that I hate my father's family, I do love each and every one of them. Some of them are so deep into their vices (alcohol, illicit drugs) that reasoning, let alone communicationg with them is difficult. I have nothing in common with them when it comes to enjoying life, without the need to be drunk/inebriated all the time. I would much rather 'stay in my own lane'. The latter part of my adolescence was spent going to concerts, working and focusing on high school. 

I attended the local vocational school, concentrating on the health curriculum. My junior year was awesome, I made amazing friends I still see to this day. I also lost some friends as well. During my senior year, I was having some bad abdominal pain following a visit to a local hospital for a class presentation. It was so bad that they had to help me walk off of the bus. Once home, it just continued to get worse. My father ended up driving me to the emergency room. After a brigade of tests, the found what appeared to be a mass on my right ovary. They were unsure of what it was exactly, so they sent the x-rays and scans to the lab for verification. I received the news midway through my school day. I was called to the office for a phone call. It was my mother letting me know that they were unsure whether it was a tumor or a very large cyst. I was referred to an ob/gyn for further consultation. After a visit with him, I was notified that it was a benign-cyst and of no worry. The cyst was composed off skin, hair, and calcium deposits. The doctor ensured that it would dissolve on it's own. I was given pain medication and told to return for a follow-up. I was still extremely shocked about this news. It caught me off guard. I missed some school after this, close to a month. I still kept my grades up, even receiving the highest grade in the class on my medical terminology final. I also received a prestigious scholarship from Lou Holtz for my academic achievements. My father, his mother and I attended the scholarship luncheon. I shook the hand of Lou Holtz, as I expressed my gratitude for his wonderful foundation.

Graduation was bittersweet. I was happy to be done with high school. Though I would miss the library and the teachers that became like family. After graduation I really let myself go. I would party with my family, drinking and smoking, not having a care in the world. I cashed that first scholarship check that Fall, planning on paying my first semester tuition for college by the end of the week. My mother, cousin, friend and I went to a gas station to get a pack of smokes. I left the envelope in the glovebox while my mother and I entered the store. When I reached in the glovebox a couple days later to retrieve that cash, it was gone. Two people were in that car, and neither of them ever came clean and the cash was never recovered. I did attend one class that semester, dropping out shortly after. I held my graduation party a year after I graduated high school, it was held on my 19th birthday. We spent weeks cleaning up the property. Money for the party was raised by turning in 55 fifty-gallon bags of smashed cans, most of them alcohol. I had chicken from Walmart and also had a small smimming pool full of mud for a pit. My cousin ended up kicking my drunk ass in it by the end of the night. There were keg barrels full of beer, at least 3 of them. We had horseshoes and badminton. The kids were enjoying the trampoline. I was enjoying the company, until the alcohol started making my family members irrational. My father's brother ended up picking his own brother up and slammed him off the ground. I watched as my father slowly crawled to his knees, and stood instructing his brother to leave. Others got into my graduation box and stole back the money , from them, that was intended for my education. They took that money and spent it on drugs. I spiraled out of control towards the end of my teenage years. I was hanging out with the wrong crowd, experimenting with drugs and just acting a damn fool. I was rebelling towards my parents and just wanted to have fun and not worry about anything. I bounced from town to town, house to house. Never knowing how long I would stay there before moving on.  I was a mess, and had no idea of how to fix myself. I needed a reason to get sober, and I could not find a reason within all my pain to fight to be a better person. I was a very lost soul.