Life on the inside

I don’t even know where to begin, or maybe I do and that’s just it. I need to start at the beginning, which beginning? My childhood? My teenage years? The struggles of coming from a broken home and a family who lacks the ability to provide unconditional love and support. The time where becoming the black sheep of the family not only means being the black sheep but yet somehow always feeling like I am a kid begging for approval. There are so many places to start and in so many ways have now shaped me int the person I am today and I am becoming. I am here to share with you my story, my experience, and my missions. So let’s get started....

6th grade—- the time it started to really unravel....

Being 11 years old in 6th grade in the 90s was nothing like it is now but it still wasn’t easy. Being a young preteen girl who was already very developed in the breast department, and constantly being the new girl in school was a quick surefire way to be the teasing highlight of the “popular” kids day. Popularity back in the 90s at least in my school was pretty much broken up into cliques, the preps Ofcourse at the very top of the junior high and high school pyramid, usually accomplied by the jocks. A lot of times you would find the jocks and the preps to be intertwined. Then you had your skaters/ the potheads. That was the big drug in our days, marijuana and the typical house party’s. Then you had the small group of the “druggies” the ones partying and experimenting with prescription stimulants and mushrooms/acid type and eventually ecstasy. Then you had the nerds Ofcourse and the misfits. The ones like me who got teased the minute they entered the school on the first day of 6th grade. The jocks liked me, the girls hated me, and there it was the start are me just giving up on it all. My grades started to slip, I even felt the need to flash boys when I was in 8th grade, again a new student. I wanted the attention, the attention I didn’t get at home, the attention my father never really showed me. I was quickly labeled the slut and yet I still was a virgin and at most had flashed a few boys in the stairwell. Not my proudest moments, but it only spun more and more out of control. At home I was always being yelled at or smacked around, my mother try’s to pretend otherwise but most of my memories consist of the fights. The one time I can never forget and I picture to this day was when she was 8 months pregnant and pinned me down on my bed and punched me in the back of my head multiple times. So fast forward a little to when I was 16 and babysitting my 3 toddler/younger siblings. I got grounded for calling my grandmother for help since I couldn’t control all 3 kids and the 2 older ones were fighting while the youngest was crying. When my mom came home I was grounded and smacked across the face. I was pinned against the door and told that I was grounded since I cared more about calling my friends then babysitting. The sad truth is I wasn’t even really aloud friends or to hang out with friends anyways and I really called My grandmother because I really needed help with the kids. I ran away after that, grabbed my big Nokia cell phone and left. Shortly after I ended up coming home but then planning a run away. I was able to find a way to not return home from school one day and I was at the age that the cops at this time weren’t going to make me return home. I could emancipate, so I moved out. At first to live with my godfather but my mother told me if I lived there she wouldn’t let me see my siblings again which at the time was very important to me, so my godfather started to pay for apartments and I left school got my GED and went to working fulltime. Not even 18 and there I was out on my own. I ended up enrolling into college in Albany, NY and getting an apartment in a close by town. I thought I was doing good, I was dating a marine, I was working fulltime and holding High grades in college. I had a beautiful special edition color of a 2004 5 speed eclipse in 2004. I was on top of the world, I was already on my own and in college and my high school class hadn’t graduated yet. But it didn’t last long, before my 18th birthday I’d be sitting in jail.......