ya kno..

w.o. getting in2 2 much detail bout my life, ive nevr had a loving mother, just a lying, disgusting, psychotic, lazy, conniving whorebag egg-donor who lied 2me bout who my dad was for 16 years then finally broke it 2 me 1 random day as a way of dashing my dreams for a better life. i have only heard from my (not) dad once since he found out the truth and that wasnt until several years later, at which point i told him he was a deadbeat asshole who always cared more about himself than me. (long story) i also told him that he had no interest in being a father 2 me when i needed him, that i definitely dont need 1 now. my egg-donor was extremely abusive, mentally and physically. even going so far as to have me make and wear a big sign that said “my name is _____ and i must be retarded” while she laughed and took pics to email out to friends and family: and pounding on me with her fists because she said i “twitched my eye at her”. i went 2 school with qiant bruises from th bak of my neck to my ankles and FINALLY sumbody noticed. as soon as dcf contacted my mother, she went in my room, grabbd 2 pairs of my pants, 3 shirts n 4 pairs of underwear n sox, threw it in a bag, and carted me down to the local dcf office n put me out. i was 16 at the time. i spent 3 months in 2 differnt foster homes, but my foster mom was super nosy and always going thru evrythingi had tryin 2 catch me doin something, anything wrong. finally she found my cigarettes and lighter n had me relocated. unfortunately, the day i was put in a nice new foster-home, she calld my new foster mom n made me sound like a terrible person. i wasnt perfect, obviously, but i thot i was a decent kid. the next morning, i thot i was going to enroll in school, instead, my case worker came n took me to a christian group home. i hated it, they shoved religion down our throats every waking hour. church 4 times a week, (wear a skirt or there would be punishment.) no black clothing allowed, no music unless it was christian music, etc. i got into a fight with 1 of the other girls n was moved to a level 2 higher security facility. honestly, at this point i was so sik of being treated second-rate n being shoved around like yesterdays trash, i went wild.i ran away at least a dozen times, got into several fights (1 of which the girl had a broken nose) snuck in contraband, and started cutting myself. pretty much anything icould do to get out of there. it worked. they moved me to a level 3 lockdown facility. even better. within a week i had already been slammed, restrained, got in a fight, and taught evry1 on my dorm (phase 2) how to trip the lock on the door and open it without the alarm going off. (with a hard-back book cover) so they moved me to phase 1. fukkin-a. im definitely not going to go into the things i went thru on that dorm, the things i seen, shyt roommates put me thru, a girl getting stabbed with a piece of plastic from the halogen light cover, another almost strangled to death with an extension cord from the laundry room. or seeing my friend being carried down the dorm and out by a staff-member, pouring scarlet from the hundreds of cuts she had made on herself from neck to toe with  a razor she had snuck in. i never saw her again after that. the facility i was in was all about doping us up so they didnt have to deal with us. i spent my 17th b-day in there, so doped up from the 13 different meds they had me on, that i didnt even recognize myself. i gained alot of weight, had horrible acne from the meds, and avoided looking in the mirror at all costs. @ 1 point i had a brilliant (or idiotic) plan. we had a brand new nurse. completely naive and clueless about facility teens. i faked a headache to go to sick call and backed myself up against the rolling med cabinet. when she turned round to grab the aspirin, i slid the drawer open and grabbed out a organizer of some guy from the boys dorms’ meds and went bak 2 my room. that nite, after lites out n day shift had left, i took each one of the 97 topomaz in the packet n hoped for the best. at this point i had been in there for a year n a month and was ready to get out. regardless of whether i went in a bodybag or any other way. i passed out n then i vaguely remember coming to for (idk how long) it was completely dark but if i closed my eyes, i could see the entire room like daylight. i remember trying to get out of bed but my feet didnt want to cooperate so when i tried to get up, i fell into a wall. i passed out there i guess, next morning staff was in there to wake me up n i  was horribly disappointed to find myself still in that hellhole.  made another attempt to get out of there the next day, i ran up 3 flights of stairs n jumped off the balcony onto the stairwell. no broken bones. nothing. and i was still stuck. finally, 2 months b4 my 18th bday, me n my mother tried to patch things up. i swallowed my pride and kissed her ass for about a month. i truly thought at that point that she was a different person.they sent me home on a 30 day probationary period in which time my mother played her part well. As soon as the 30 days ended, she was back to her old, selfish, violent self. when her husband left her b.c. he truly couldnt stand her anymore, she blamed me n my little cousin and did evrything physically possibly to make us feel like dirt. guess it made her feel better. not long after that i ran off to kansas and married my first boyfriend. we were happy for about 2 years, but only because neither of us really had anything to compare our relationship to. when he got out of the miitary we moved to florida, because thats where his  family lived. less that a year later we had a beautiful little girl. 5 months later he pulled some selfish little “pity me” stunt and the state took my little girl. they gave her to my ex husbands aunt and uncle. of course he didnt give a shit so he packed a suitcase n left back to tennessee. i stayed in florida and tried evrything to get my babygirl back, but in the end it came down to those horrendous people having the money for a better lawyer and my case worker being buddy-buddy with them. i was 3 weeks away from completing EVERYTHING i was supposed to do to have her back when they terminated my rights.  now when im allowed to see her, its only on their terms. i have to lay my pride on the ground and deal with these babystealers in a respectable way or i wont be able to spend time with the only proof i have that i ever existed. im still trying to find ways to fight this but i was also told that she was legally adopted back in october. i have yet to see proof so im hoping for the best and expecting the worst. there is sooo often i feel completely alone and jealous of others lives because i feel completely void of the people in my life that should be the closest to me. i havent spoken to my mother in 5 years and, except for that brief conversation with my (not) dad, i havent spoken to him in 7 years. i just got to see my little girl for the first time n almost a year and it was bittersweet. i wish i could curl up with my angel in my arms and stay that way forever. a piece of my heart dies everytime i have to leave her and have her cling to me and cry. i can honestly say no amount of pain in my life has ever added up to these emotional assaults. i often wonder, if there is a god, how can he allow people to go thru that pain. losing your child is the worst pain i can think of. i consider myself to be a good person, i work hard, im a faithful friend and girlfriend. so what do i deserve this for. i used to believe evrything happens for a reason, but then i think there cant possibly be a reason for this. i thought alot about suicide when she was first taken, but then i thought, even if i only get to spend another 5 minutes with her, its worth living for.