My Story

My story is something I struggle with, probably because I don't have all the pieces. Most of what I know about my childhood was told to me at a later date, by biased people. I suppose this story will become something of an auto-biography, but, as I say, I only know so much.

I'll start at the beginning, and once you read this you'll see that I was made for drama right from the very start.

My mom was eighteen, graduated and had her birthday in June of 2001. By September, she had met my dad, who was twenty-two. By January they were pregnant with me, causing my mom to give up the scholarship she had received for Design at University of Toronto. I've heard stories, one that includes my mom trying to poison my dad by putting clear fabric softener in a plastic water bottle and giving it to my dad to drink, others which include my dad hitting my mom, but I can't verify these things, I have to consider my sources.

They had an apartment when they brought me home, and I don't know why or how, but we ended up living with my Nanny, my dad's mother for a few years. My parents bought a house, and my dad spent a lot of time fixing it up while my mom worked and I stayed with my Nanny. Her and I have a really good relationship.

This is new information I had only heard recently, but apparently the year after I was born, they had a New Year's Eve party at the new house. I guess there was something about drugs in the shed, and one of my mom's friends set it up so it looked like my dad had been the one to initiate it all. Dan, my dad's friend and my mom's future husband came later, to help my mom clean up after she cleared everyone out of the party.

I know my dad was into drugs, and my mom did too. She grew up in a home where everyone around her smoked pot, so she did too, but she told me she never did hard drugs. She told me that she found my dad with her sister's boyfriend and her step-father all doing lines of coke together. She trapped him by asking to join, and when he agreed she knew that he didn't care enough for her or me to protect either one of us, or himself.

Don't get me wrong, my dad is a good guy. He has strong values and has always protected us, but I'll get to that later.

Anyway, so at this point I was getting a little older, and this is my first memory: I was on the couch at Nanny's, where I was living with both parents, and I could see through the kitchen where the patio doors were, on the deck, my parents were fighting. They were screaming, and a dresser drawer was thrown, and that's about all I remember. Then I know me and my mom left. We stayed for a while with different people, my dad's brother and his wife, mom's friends, before we went to the women's shelter in town. She told me we were there for six weeks before she was able to save enough money for her own apartment.

At this point, I'm three, and it's just me and mom, and I got to see my dad and Nanny every other weekend. Sometimes he was late to pick me up, and it made me sad. Every other Friday, I counted the minutes down until six o'clock when Dad would be there to get me. It was the highlight of my every-two-weeks. I'm not sure now why I favoured my dad so much over Mom, but I did. I remember sitting in my window after arguing with my mom over something, crying and yelling and praying for my dad to come and rescue me.

My mom had a couple of friends from high school who lived in the same apartment, so I had friends. I know now that even then, my mom would smoke pot a lot. My dad was into drugs for as long as I could remember, but I was more forgiving of him when I realized than I was my mom. I'm not sure why.

I started school young, going every other day for half a day or so, in kindergarten. One day my dad came over to the apartment, and I'm not sure why. He was in the living room, watching TV, and I asked him if I could have a baby sister. He told me to ask my mom, so I did, and a year later I did have one.

Isabelle is my sister, who has her own interesting story to tell about our parents. She and I were never alike as kids, but we're closer now.

I remember one Christmas Eve, my mom had her friend with two daughters over, and they went out on the balcony, leaving me, at four years old to feed the baby.

I had a cat, named Max. A gift from my aunt whose cat had kittens. He was all black, and I loved him so much. Every day after school I would run up to see him. One day he got onto the balcony, but we didn't know until my grandpa brought him up. We had to go to the vet, and he recovered, but them my mom gave him away, and broke my little heart. I was always an empath, and for years, whenever I saw a black cat, I hoped it was Max.

My mom's parents lived nearby, and my mom's siblings were young. She had a sister, and two brothers. My uncle Dylan is only five years older than me, so we played together in school at recess. One day they moved away, to Quebec to avoid a drug debt, taking my uncles with them. My grandpa is my mom's stepdad, her father is my Papa, who is the biggest pothead I think I think I know, and this story will reveal that I know plenty, not by choice.

My aunt, my mom's sister also had kids young. Her first is my cousin Harmony, who I think might have the saddest story of any kid I know, but that's hers to tell. Harmony was born sixteen days before Isabelle, in 2006.

My oldest cousin is on my dad's side, Carlos, just a year younger than me. Then Scarlette and Diego, all also born in 2006. It was a busy year.

Though my parents had Isabelle, they didn't get back together. Isabelle and I went to my dad's every other weekend and spent the rest of our time with Mom.

When Isabelle was about two, I was five, and this is the time that Dan starting coming around. He was my dad's friend, and there are a lot of stories about them together.

Dan starting coming around more at my mom's, and I didn't really know what to think of it. He was bigger than my dad, tall and intimidating. I didn't like him a lot as a kid.

After a few months, they were planning to get married. I don't remember really understanding what that meant, I was five years old, but I do remember them fighting once, my mom taking off her ring and throwing it at the door as Dan slammed it, walking out.

They did get married, though, and we moved to a nicer house, initiating my first change of schools, one of many to come. We also got Dash then, an Australian Shepherd-Blue Heeler mix, who is still alive today, and maybe my best friend in that house. He knows what I've been through.

Before they got married, I remember building up the courage to talk to my mom about Dan and the wedding. She told me that if I didn't like Dan, she wouldn't go through with it, but I backed down. I'm a people pleaser, and always have been, so I told her that everything was fine. I often wonder what might have happened if I had told her that I really didn't like Dan.

The wedding was a hit, as far as I remember it. I got to see my grandma and grandpa and uncles who lived in Quebec, and to dress up as the ring bearer. The day after, though, there was an argument about if the necklace my grandma gave my mom to wear was a gift or a "something borrowed." I remember Dan yelling at my grandma.

Just around this time, my dad starting seeing a woman who had a daughter the same age as me. Her name was Mercedes, and we did everything together, often excluding Isabelle which I feel guilty for now. Cedes was spoiled, and manipulative, but I was so excited to have a sister who liked the same things as me. I was also too young and trusting to see that she was very mean to me and my sister.

The next couple of years are kind of a blur in my memory. I remember walking in on my mom and Dan having sex at about eight years old. I remember them telling me they were pregnant with my little brother, Spence just after the wedding. I remember arguing with Isabelle a lot, and going to Niagara Falls with Dad, Cedes and his girlfriend, Nina almost every weekend we were with them.

I remember the first and only fight I had with my Nanny. She had bought me and Cedes matching PJs, and I told her that the cuffs were really tight, and that Cedes had said the same thing. She told me that was rude to say because it was a gift, and that I was ungrateful. I think of anyone, her opinion of me matters most, so I've made a big show of displaying gratitude to everyone since this day. This argument distraught me so much because my Nanny is so important to me, that even now, when I think about this day I get tears in my eyes.

Spence was born early, three weeks so, exactly. He was small, only about 5 pounds, 9 ounces if I remember correctly. After his birth we moved again, my second school change. I was seven when Spence was born, and when he was about four months old, my mom told us she was pregnant again. Then we moved again, and I changed schools again. This house was beside a church, where Isabelle and I starting attending a badge program for kids, Caravan.

Analynn is the last of us, born with a severe heart condition. She had a surgery when she was about seven months old, recovered extremely well, and has not needed another surgery since. She'll be ten this year.

In the midst of all of Ana's appointments, we realized that Spence was developing exceptionally slow. He is low-functioning autistic, and does not speak. He will be eleven this year, is almost as big as me, and only wears his diapers around the house.

I remember one year for my birthday, I really wanted to go horseback riding. Because in a split family, everything is a competition, my dad took me first, with Isabelle, Cedes and Nina. The next weekend, Dan was taking me. We had to be up early, and I don't know what they were fighting about, but I remember Dan throwing a water bottle at my mom's head. She got soaked. We still went riding. Every time they fought, they were screaming at each other. Isabelle and I knew not to interfere, to sit quietly and wait. The babies did not. Once, Ana was crying because of them so badly that I screamed for them to stop, picked up the baby, and went upstairs. I was ten.

I was relied upon to be the in-house babysitter. They still smoked pot relentlessly, and it was my responsibility when they were doing that to keep an eye on the babies. I got very sick of it. There were multiple occasions where I packed a bag and threatened to have my dad pick me up. They never let me use the phone to do so.

In the summer after fifth grade, I was ten. I had won a trip to a horse camp through Caravan, and went for a week. Then, my dad took me, Nina and Cedes on a trip to Manitoba for two weeks for a wedding in Nina's family. My mom wouldn't let Isabelle come, and she wouldn't let my dad take me across the border to get there quicker by cutting through the US, but she let Isabelle go to Quebec with my aunt, and cross the border to the US there. On this trip, I got my period.

Grade six was interesting. Obviously I developed early, and was interested in boys already. There was a boy in Caravan I had had a long-term crush on for years, and a new boy in my class I was also starting to like. Long story short, the first one dropped out of school, the second does drugs now.

It was in grade six I had really had it with being the babysitter at home, so I went to live with my dad. It went okay, but I hardly saw him. I spent of my time with my Nanny and my aunt, and one day a week at my mom's. This time of my life is also blurry, it was hard. I remember one morning getting up for school and finding my dad with a huge pile of drugs that I still don't even know the name for. That summer was spent mostly with my aunts and cousins on my dad's side, and by the end of it, I had moved back with my mom.

I did this because I missed my brother and sisters, and because I was only eleven. Eleven year old girls need their mothers. I was also guilt-tripped into this though, because Dan told me that my mom had to cry herself to sleep every night because she missed me. I don't know if that was true, but as an empath, it's something you can live with if it was true.

When I came back to live at home, they had moved yet again. School change #4 at eleven. This school was total crap, with awful academics, no extra-curriculars, very few good teachers, and they treated Spence like an alien just because he's autistic. I mean seriously, I would get called out of class when Spence didn't want to get up out of a bean bag chair.

This is the year I learned that I absolutely loved to read. In fact, I loved reading so much that to punish me, my mom took away my books. And she only did that to make sure I wasn't distracted when I was watching her kids while she was smoking pot.

Around this time, I started feeling really depressed and even suicidal. I hated my life at my mom's but I'd already made my decision to stay there. I was always fighting with her and Dan, who slapped me across the face twice in this period of time. I was hanging around with a girl who was not a good influence, but with so many damn school changes I was just glad to have a friend.

Grade eight was rough. My mom promised me that if I came back to live with them that for my grade eight year I could go to any of the schools I wanted that I had been to to graduate with my friends. Of course, that didn't happen, and it felt like the only reason they even wanted me back was because they used me for babysitting. To this day they say I barely ever was left to babysit, but I know what it felt like, and children should not be left to watch over infants. This is the year I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety, and it still felt like my parents were overlooking my needs. With Dan it was always "poor me". If I had anxiety, oh it was nothing because his was so much worse.

Grade nine was interesting. I didn't have any friends or anything. I sat on the floor every day at lunch, eating and reading my book, something my classmates would go on to make fun of me for for all four years of high school.

I met a girl named Abbey who was nice, but she moved away at the end of the year so it didn't become anything marvelous. I auditioned for a play in the first week of school, and got a part. Everyone raved about my raw acting talent, and I was happy to be the centre of attention, to be praised for my talents. I met a boy in the play, named Neo. He will come back a little later.

High school is where I really realized that if I had one talent, it was that I was smart. I made 80s and 90s without even trying, and I realized this is who I am. The smart nerdy drama girl.

Abbey knew a guy, Jordon who started to hang around. When the first Semi-Formal came around, my mom insisted I go, even though I had no one to go with. She was the pretty popular type in high school, and I just wasn't. Anyway, Jordon was also there, flying solo and hung around me all night. He asked me to dance and I did but I was awkward. It didn't feel right and he just didn't seem like someone I could talk to. He was really into me, but I kind of slowly pushed him away. I didn't know how else to handle it.

Now, let's get back to Neo. He asked me for my number, and I was astonished because no guy had ever taken blatant interest in me before him, and then Jordon. I'll also mention that Neo was two years older than me. So we talked a lot, he had his own depression and whatnot he was working through, and he took me to a free counselling place, where I would talk to someone briefly about some crap I went through, but ultimately wouldn't be too helpful. They could only provide preliminary care and then recommended real therapists, but I couldn't afford that, and I didn't think Mom would let me.

Anyway, I'm still going to the church, at this point I'm in the youth. I invited Neo to come, and he did. He was loud and vulgar but everyone at the church thought he was refreshing and fun. I didn't know it then but he was really into me. I just wasn't that into him. Eventually he told me, and I told him that I'm only fourteen, not looking for a relationship, etc.

Then, I met a boy named Ethan at the church just a little after Neo. He was funny, and I think that's what drew me to him. He was still a little older, but he talked to me and made me smile and that first night we exchanged numbers, we were up until 4am, just talking. I wasn't looking for a relationship, but love dropped into my lap at fourteen, with Ethan. I know you're probably calling bullshit on that right now, but Ethan I just celebrated our fourth anniversary, and we move in together to our own apartment next month.

All through high school, I did plays and I had Ethan, and that was about it. Kids in the drama didn't hang out with me in leisure time because I was too nerdy to be a drama kids, but I was too sassy for the smart kids. I had a few friends, but none of them lasted very long or got really deep.

My fifteenth birthday is definitely a highlight of high school. I skipped school and my papa took me for a ride in an airplane with a professional flyer, I got my cat, Onyx, and Ethan took me to Canada's Wonderland. Wonderland is a huge deal in southern Ontario, it's in Toronto has amazing rides and games. I myself am a huge adrenaline junkie, and I will go an any amusement park ride (most people are very surprised when they learn this about me). Ethan and I had only been going out for about six months, and he told me loved rides too. We went on the roller coasters, the drop zone, and pretty much everything else. I learned years later that Ethan hates rides, and did all of those with me to impress me.

The fall of grade 10 I applied for an exchange program. I had my partner, Roby, come here first, for the month of July, and I went back with her to Italy for the month of August. I was there a long time, and saw a lot of Italy. I came home on a Sunday, and by Tuesday I was starting my grade eleven year of school.

Grade eleven pretty uneventful, made good grades, I went to Arizona in the summer for a youth conference. It was a lot of fun, but it was extremely hot for a Canadian in the desert.

Grade twelve. What to say about grade twelve. Well, October/November was applying to universities. In November my mom and Dan had a really bad fight. He punched her in the face. Roby came back for Christmas, to experience a Canadian winter. Of course, we had no snow that year. After Roby went home, it was January second, and my mom and Dan were arguing again. I was always the one to get involved to take the heat off my mom and whichever kid was getting the brute of the anger, and so that's what I did. I was in the middle of it all, and Dan screamed in my face for me to move out if I hated him so much. By ten the next morning, I was gone. I brought my backpack up, my computer and put everything by the door. Dan was hungover and still angry, and my mom asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was obeying. He told me to leave, so I was leaving. She told me not to be ridiculous, and I told her I would never come back to live in that house as long as he was living there. He flipped out and slammed his way into his room, ignoring me.

My dad picked me up, and I went to stay at my Nanny's. I'm still here now, I haven't gone back for more than three days at a time. I did go back to get more of my stuff one day during my free period, and my mom and I had a big argument. I told her she should leave Dan, and she refused. In my eyes, she has chosen him over me.

I do miss my siblings, and Isabelle and Analynn have both called me crying before, not knowing what to do because Mom and Dan are fighting so badly, but I don't know what to tell them.

I accepted a university offer for a twelve thousand dollar scholarship, plus an additional one thousand, for my major in French. Funny thing is that I failed French last term, so I changed my major, and since I am short one credit, I've lost my scholarship. Now I'm writing this instead of the essay that was due tonight which I haven't started, because I'm at the point in my life where I'm struggling to do anything except lay around doing nothing because I desperately need therapy for all this crap. This is the basic story, but there's a lot more where this came from. Ethan has talked about trying to arrange therapy for me but everything is so expensive, rent is difficult to make as it is without worrying about therapy.

So, this is how I'm going to try to deal with my issues. Check back if you find any of this interesting because as I say, this is just scratching the surface.