Life was hard growing up. When I was a child I was surrounded by drugs, nasty men, abuse, rape etc.
My mom was not like the moms you see on TV, she had supported my brother and I by stripping, she also sold and was addicted to drugs. She was clinically diagnosed as being bipolar, and schizophrenic.. She always put drugs above me and my brother. most of the time my Nana would take care of me but only when she wasn’t working. My mom, the main person who was supposed to be my protector let numerous men in and out of our lives. The last man impacted and changed my life forever when he began sexually abusing me at the age of 6 and continued to do so until I was 8. The abuse stopped when he was arrested for kidnapping me and held me at knife point.
The police rescued me and I became a ward of the state.
My mom relinquished custody of me and my little brother to my psychological grandmother.
I thought my life was going to be different, I thought I was going to live a regular life. But as I got older my grandmother saw my mother in me and began to treat me as though I was her. I felt like I could never amount to anything. I was put down and judged, I was told that I would be just like my mom. I heard it so much that I began to believe it.
It hurt me being compared to the main person who let me down.
I remember the first time I realized something about me was not right, I remember waiting in the hallway of my elementary school with sweaty palms, the same thing my mom had. I thought it was normal. It wasn’t until I got much older I realized it was anxiety. My anxiety played a big part in my middle school and highschool life , because of it I had a hard time making friends and talking to teachers. I was always scared , always nervous, always thinking people where talking about me or looking at me. I would have outbursts at home with my grandmother because I didn’t know how to handle my own thoughts and feelings. I was diagnosed as Bipolar when I was in middle school but refused to take any medication because I was so afraid of being like my mom. I was being bullied at school, I was being put down at home, and I was always afraid. My grandmother would let me have visitations with my mom and gave her many chances to step up and be a mother to me and my brother, and every time she let us down. I always pictured myself having a good life, and always wanted my mother to be a mother… It was always a slap in the face when she was doing the same thing that got us taken away. But I always gave her the benefit of the doubt and stayed hopeful. During every visit with my mom she would plant lies in my head about my grandma saying she took me away from her etc. My anger grew toward my grandma because of the lies i was told. My mom would tell me to run away and go to her place so we can be a family. being the naive child that I was, I listened.. I would runaway to be with my mom and every time I’d get caught because my mom would call on me. Because of that I was put in CPS ( child protective service) because of lies my mom told me, because of the outbursts and anger I had toward everything, because I didn’t know why I had these feelings. Because I felt alone, and because I would push away everyone and ran away. I tried so hard to be good, I went to school, tried to pay attention to the teacher, tried my best to have good grades, I even won 2nd place in the state of Arizona for the Youth of the Year through the Boys and Girls Club… But because of my thoughts and feelings, I gave up, gave up on myself. With my anxiety, and Bipolar I didn’t know how to control myself.. I also would have nightmares, I would be afraid of every man who walked my way, or smelled a certain way. I remember one incident while walking home to my grandmas, my next door neighbor popped his head out of his car to say “hello” and I ran home screaming and crying thinking I was about to be kidnapped… It wasn’t till I got older when my therapist told me I have PTSD. this was just the beginning to a cycle that seems to never end.