What defines me?

Cancer , A Dozen Kids , Life, Struggle

I’m not even sure why this story was on my mind this early morning. But since it is I thought I’d share. When we lived in Coloma I had my first best friend. Accompanied by the whole crush on her older brother. It was the focus of my life the Osborn family. I loved every single one of them and the big close chaos they had in their home. I loved the marriage their parents shared I just enjoyed being there. I was stable and incredibly happy in Coloma. The home we lived in was rented to us by my biological dad’s brother. So essentially my uncle. Although I only remember seeing him a handful of times the entire time we lived there. I was there when the eviction notice posted. My mom and Rik were already dating and I knew we were moving there. I never wanted to be in Bridgman I always asked to stay home or at the Osborns. One night I was home alone I remember it having been literally the perfect night my mom had rented me some movies from the video store bought me cheesey puffs and got me my own 2 liter of pop! I mean seriously I had spent the evening binge watching Mad Tv talking to the osborn’s all night I was just getting off the phone to go to bed. I admit I did get a little scared in the house alone that evening or when I was alone but I just called and talked on the phone for hours and I eventually passed out no big deal. That night the cops came. I was terrified…. the thoughts that ran through my head………. I ran and hide under my mother’s bed. Taking the house phone with me and calling my grandma. She said she was heading to get me. I remember the flash lights in each window. I thought for sure if they caught me I’d be taken away for being left home alone. ( I highly doubt that would have happened but at 12 I was convinced I knew I would be taken and put into a awful place.) I think the cops were there at least 30 mins. I climbed out my back bedroom window and ran through neighbor yard and meet my grandma as she pulled into the circle carefully watching out for police. After that incident we moved. I lost every friend I had. I was completely and totally and utterly miserable. I thought it was the end of the world. I don’t think it was much time after that the neighbor told me when I went to say goodbye it had been my uncle that called the cops and cps. So I’m 12 you think I am neglected and alone and you as my family member call the cops and file an eviction. No one ever comes to see me or hell even acknowledges I exist. No assistance is offered to my single mother with no father in site to aide her…..No one came to ask if I was alright no knock on the door. No card for my bday….. I mean clearly the family knew where I lived right? Christmas? Thanksgiving? It was too difficult to make effort to be in and better my life by doing so but calling the cops to scare the shit out of me that was a simple task. To pass the burden on to a officer to a investigator. Now I have no idea what was in my uncle’s mind or any family member really I can only tell you how I felt. I actually very much can relate much of my lashing out to that moment I spent shaking scared under that bed as police shinned lights and banged on windows in search of me. I thought I was in trouble or my mom. I felt alone. To later hear my family had caused that fear and loneliness for me that later resulted in my loss of the family that was so incredibly important to me. Then I became what later my bio dad refers to as the lost cause out of control teen. I would what point made me a lost cause for him…… Must have been the 900 dollar phone bill I racked up after everyone took me from the only people I had ever confided in and then left me alone CONSTANTLY! I mean surely the years and years he had not feed,clothed,or housed me had no measure compared to this 900 phone bill. Lost cause…… your own child. I imagine I must have just been the devil. I can’t think of a possible scenario ever that would make me think my child could even remotely be a lost cause. To think my dad had the ability to look me in my eyes and tell me that. While reminding me of the things I stole or the phone bills I created. At 15 he left me with $20 at a friends house said good luck he had moved. I ate from a trash can twice that summer. Cps and cops were called over the lack of parenting on my mom’s part yet I can rarely remember my dad ever being home while I was in his care. Worked across the street but our home had little food or beer or ac so his gf’s was a better choice. To say that I dont make effort to reach out to any family now is a true statement. I never let go of those feelings of betrayal as a little girl. It’s easier to take the equation out of your life then to figure out the solution. Instead I put pictures in a scrapbook that I stole of face book labeling with who and how they are related to me. So if one day my children wish to know where they come from they can but I cut the strings to those relationships and have no desire to tie the strings again. 99 Ways to Cut, Sew, Trim, and Tie Your T-Shirt into Something Special

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