Look to the skies

Some of my earliest memories are of my mother giving me up for adoption ( I was classified as a ‘child in need’). As I child, I didn’t realize she had given me up, I merely thought I was staying with family for a while. I remember two different families I stayed with for some time. The first family I stayed with, the V’s, I can barely remember. The V’s were nice, but were more interested the other child there than they were with me. The one I remember the most, lets call them the ‘D’s’, were my second family. I loved the D’s very much, they were always kind to me despite having several other children–adopted and biological. When I was young, I had trouble putting two and two together. The D’s had a baby sitter, and I was frequently left with him. I was naive and trusting and he was sick. It’s self explanatory.

I stayed with the D’s for a while, but eventually my mom came back for me. It’s weird to think about, in hindsight. My mother is a wonderful woman, she just made incredibly bad decisions with drugs and such. I became aware of what was going on around me, and how wrong it was, when I was about 6. I developed a really bad complex — I felt that I needed to prove myself, that I was important, that I was worth the effort. I became loud, rambunctious, and generally annoying. This led to bullying problems in my, ironically enough, church group I attended (and school, but it wasn’t as bad). Tried going to the pastor, my parents, other adults. All attempts to get help were politely ignored.

My mom eventually moved, my actual sister, My ‘sister’ (actually my niece, but she was closest to my age, despite being a year older than me), and I to Colorado to live with my other sister. It got better for a while, until the babysitters that lived in the same apartment complex as us teamed up with ‘sister’. They were much much older than both ‘sister’ and I. Them being 17-20 and us being 6 and 7. It was rough. They would tie me up and toss me into the room I was terrified of.

After an argument in Colorado with the sister we were staying with(over drugs), Mom moved us back with Dad (non-biological). Mom and Sister continued with drug problems until eventually Mom became Ill, survived it, continued drugs and eventually went to jail for a while. She got out, served time with the church, and eventually became a drug-free, god fearing woman. My mother tries. She really does, and I love and respect her so much for that. However, I am not religious, and have grown to be incredibly irritable. She wants me to be better than her, I get that, but she pushes in all the wrong ways.

I feel the need to prove myself.

I want to be liked.

But, it feels like everything is trying pile-drive me six-feet under.

The bullying stopped after eight grade. I took on the ‘Yes I can’, ‘Yes man’, and ‘Happy go lucky’ personas. I hardly try to say anything negative, and keep positive. But, the truth is is that I don’t really feel that. Those attitudes are my ‘Fake it till you make it’ mentality. My friends, and Internet friends especially, tell me I can be myself around them and tell them how I really feel. And that it will be okay. Whenever I try, ill give an opinion, tell them I don’t like something, or just say ‘no’ to something they get upset, uncomfortable, etc. Ive tried confronting them, but its no-good. They tell me it’s just not ‘me’. I feel like they don’t appreciate me, but I love them so much? I’ve never felt like the ‘go-to’ friend. I’m always the last choice, etc. But I try. I say yes, I go out of my way, I sacrifice, I initiate.

Being told that someone is only doing something with me because “no one else is available”, getting told that something I put effort into is “just uninteresting” which is reason for them to always change the subject when I talk about it, seeing the obvious uninterest when I’m really excited about something. It gets to me.

Am I worth the effort? Am I important? Do I matter?

‘Yes.’ I tell myself. I’m not hard to please. Just please…don’t make me feel like I was your last option. Don’t blatantly ignore me or change the subject when I’m talking. Don’t use me and make me feel guilty when I say ‘no’ or ask for something. Don’t use something I honestly enjoy against me, or use it to hurt me. ( I honestly love rping, but my two best friends and rp partners are…rough. Both refuse to rp with me unless I completely go their way. And one has abandoned several characters I cared for [this bothers me because obviously abandonment, but also because they complain about others doing the same thing to them, but don’t care when they do it to me])

Please. I’m worth more than that.

One day I won’t have to ‘fake it’ anymore.

I’ve never told anyone about my sexual-abuse, or the fact that I had been given up, or the drug problems my family faces, so thank you for reading all that. I never really complain about things that really matter to me, always thought it’d be a burden on others or I’d get ignored. The loud, brazen young girl turned into an angry middle schooler, a shy and nervous underclassman, and a well-rounded high schooler. I joined the theater group and began participating in life more.

It feels good to let that out. I still find myself crying at night and wondering about my own self-worth. One day, those tears will dry. Frankly, I can’t wait. I have hope.

Let the skies be dreamy, not dreary.