The story I wasn’t allowed to tell

Here’s a good one for you- juicy, uncomfortable and probably denied a thousand times, and not by me.

I said this blog was going to be raw and pure emotion. The last couple of posts have seemed to be following a line of anger.. and I’m sure you have read it wondering

“Hasn’t she gotten over this stuff yet?”

Oh you aren’t thinking that? My bad, I just have heard it from a few too many people.

But its okay, don’t get your nickers in a knot. I am in fact over it. I’m over it all as of Christmas 2015 (another story for another time) but I am not writing to get over anything, I use to journal through my years of tears every night growing up- but no dear friend this blog is more than that. There are no tears as I type, there are no lingering questions that haunt my words and sleep. No, no more of that. And I am so thankful that I no longer live that life that was lived often in someones basement, with cinder blocks and plywood for walls.

I can not express to you enough through typed words of how free I feel. I am NOT blogging to emotionally process. I’m blogging to share experiences and challenge perspective.

I WILL CONSTANTLY POINT THAT OUT.

*Warning- Please a lot sufficient time for 2,700 words to be fully soaked in. The following is not for everyone. Adopted mother- This is the side that you never let anyone hear. But this is MY side, and MY feelings DO matter. Step sister- I know Ive never called you that, but know that I do love you and out of everything in this entry- addressing you now is the only thing that brought a tear to my eye.  (((This warning paragraph was typed after I typed the story)))

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“The story I wasn’t allowed to tell”

Lets take it back to highschool, more specifically senior year, even more specifically October 9th 2011.

I never really liked October, I never was a huge fan of Halloween (unless I was pretending I was Belle in a beautiful fairy-tale where my nick name was Beauty- Or if I was dreaming about running somewhere freely in the forest defending nature much like Pocahontas)

It was a Sunday. My friend and I were heading out to the mall before we went to youth group that evening. It was the last time the youth group was meeting on sunday nights till the following summer. Naturally we were having a big feast so the times of it starting and ending were different than the previous sundays. I didn’t think anything of it.

I should have…

My friend and I went to JC Penny’s and I thought it would be cool (for some unknown embarrassing reason) to buy a $10 ring that mimicked an engagement ring. (Dont get any ideas Bubba- aka love of my life <3- I definitely want something with alittle more value 😉 haha )

Anyhow–bring it back!

So my friend and I go to youth group and enjoy a wonderful meal with some of our closest friends, and to me, they were family.

Little did I know that I would be in trouble for being home EARLY. Like what? Who’s ever heard of that? Not me- and I’ve heard of some crazy crap.

I get home and all hell breaks loose- I was accused of lying about where I was. Really? My friend was with me (proof #1) I also had worksheets from youth group- we were studying our spiritual gifts (proof #2) and after clearly proving how ridiculous these accusations were…

She spotted it– my fake engagement-looking ring.

She yelled-“Where did you get that? You can’t afford that! YOU STOLE IT!!!!”

and I thought “Then please explain this receipt” (see kids always save your receipts 😉 )

I showed her the receipt and she looked at me, took my phone and locked me in my room.

Why? I talked back. I defended myself- in other words I proved her wrong.

**side note- I’ve never stolen anything in my life**

Ok- sorry that’s just the preface to this story hahah now the FUUUUNNNN part.

Not. absolutely not true, this is not the fun part.- this next part took years for me to get over. This next part- out of everything I’ve been through- damaged me for the longest.

That whole fiasco happened on sunday October 9th 2011, everything else happened on monday October 10th 2011.

Dinner was over- I was doing dishes, as per usual, for the past 11 years (its just dishes, grow up) don’t worry- I grew up long before I graduated…preschool.

A glass lid I was washing, slipped out of my hand and fell back into the sink ** but did not break **

Out of the corner of my eye- I saw her. Lunging at me.

Lunging at my throat. Both arms fully extended. Both hands fully open and ready to grasp onto every bit of control she ever wanted.

I knew what was about to happen- I mean it has happened before.

Without hestitation I jumped back, grabbed her arms in a similar fashion as she was aiming for me. I kept my arms fully extended to keep her body as far away from mine as possible. Shuffling my body around her to prepare for an escape, I bolted for my room (looking back now- I was stupid- I should have gotten the FUCK out of there- grabbed MY dog, hopped on MY horse and rode away).

Once I got to my room, I locked the door and started brainstorming as fast as I could [I’m normally a genius when it comes to this stuff but man did I fail that night] I knew what was about to happen. My little lacy dog was frightened almost as much as I was. She leapt off the bed licked my face and as soon as we heard the barreling down the hall she disappeared under the bed.

Next thing I knew, he kicked down my door and penned me up against my dresser. Screaming left and right, most of which I have mentally blocked (Counselors said my mind blocking out certain things is a natural defense mechanism) *see I told you I’ve gone to counseling*

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on my wife.” he yelled as he swung his arms.

His whole entire efforts were to more or less call me a bad Christian.

I keep trying to type more to give better context but my mind is literally a blank slate for that moment and much of the next.

As he was spewing mash potatoes all over me and saying every kind thing you could think of a centimeter away from my face- I was bending backward onto my dresser.

I took as much as I could then I PLACED my hand on his cheek to move his face away so I could run- he then threw me into my closet, causing me to hit my head on the wall and bar inside the closet. I got extremely dizzy and tried not to pass out after seeing the blood on my hand. I shook my head- still trying to figure out what to do.

All I knew was that I was trapped.

I scooted as far back in the closet as I could to get away from him– but there’s not much space to move in a two by four area that is covered in clothes and shoes.

He just kept screaming as he bent down and prying through  my clothes to get in my face. He asked me questions but I couldn’t speak, I remember tryin but it was like my body froze. I knew if I didn’t answer soon I would be worse off than I already was.

It was too late.

Displeased with my lack of response he grabbed me by the arm and ripped me out of the closest thus causing me to hit my head on the side wall on my way out, again. He launched me onto my bed, proceeded to get on the bed over top of me shaking me and everything around. After what felt like a million lightyears he paused for a moment- I of course got the bright idea to dash, but I didn’t take into account that I was not in a position to get away at the rate I needed to be successful in my escape.

But here’ the real kicker…

I may have been successful in my attempt to escape- after all the door to get outside was directly to the left of my own room, maybe a foot away beyond my door. However there was one thing, or should I say, person blocking me.

As I leapt off my bed she lunged to block the door.

That was it- I had no where to go. I was trapped by her, him, two walls and my bed. He then threw me into the back wall. I unfortunately don’t remember anything after that.

The following morning, I went to school, bruised and limping. I didn’t know what to do. I only trusted one person at school but I knew what she would say.

“You need to report it.”

But why?

I was almost 18- the system wouldn’t take me and I certainly didn’t want to go back. Although life was hell I just wanted to finish school and be with lacy (my dog) and Lena (my horse). After all she always said “Once you’re 18 you’re out of here”

I had four months to go.

So I just limped through the halls hoping no one would notice.

Unfortunately, a teacher did. He was watching the halls like usual in between periods. I had never had class with him- I think he taught wood shop. But I always said “Hi” with a smile and a skip.

Bruises and a limp put a pit of a damper on that smile and skip of mine. He asked me if everything was okay, and I tried to lie. I tried to say “Oh yea, just horse stuff.”

He saw right through it.

I then found myself in the counselors office- luckily the counselor and I were already well acquainted from previous situations.

After doing his procedure for making reports- I  wept because I knew what was going to happen. I knew that nothing would change. I knew that my life that was already kind of miserably-bearable but at least manageable as it was, would now be much, much, much worse.

And it was.

Job and Family Services came.

Of course they both lied to the officials and I was wrote off as a troublesome teen that was just about to be of legal age. (pointless)

Me a troublesome teen? Honor student, in National Honor society, awarded the leadership award three years in a row and Bible study leader in both the middle school and highschool, also a Youth Assistant under my youth pastor. I’m just the worst.

But none of that mattered. I was a teen and it was my word against theirs.

Best part of it all? That Saturday (October 15th) was their wedding. So guess who had to skip her senior homecoming and take photographs of a bi-sexual (story for another day )  and abusive ex cop marry her adopted mother figure. Yay.

Life continued to be hell. I was grounded to my room every night after school- I wasn’t allowed to come out until everyone had eaten and gone to bed. So around 9:30pm I would have to come out of my room, do the dishes and clean up after their dinner.

As I put the food away I snuck bites as often as I could while I listened for foot steps. I then would raid the pantry to hide food in my room so I would at least have something for lunch the next day. Because packing my lunch and or lunch money- wasn’t a thing.

I remember one of my friends ALWAYS sharing her lunch with me every. single. day. She was a blessing.

I was so skinny that even my boyfriend’s dad thought I was anorexic.

Months passed by and life went on. I secretly auditioned for a musical and got a call back for Dorothy. I didn’t try my best for it because that was a lot of pressure for something I wasn’t suppose to be doing. I took the part as Glinda instead. Back then I had long brown hair that went past my waist. I cried when they told me I had to wear a blonde wig hahah luckily they decided against it in the end *phew*

February 15th came around- very few know- but that’s my birthday. And you wanna know what I got for my birthday?? {[hey atleast they remembered this year right?]}

I got a prepaid month-to-month phone that I was going to have to find a way to pay for it. But don’t worry they gave me money too..

“I’ve asked many people and they all say I shouldn’t give you this money because of the way you were acting etc”

She hands me a check, its like over a thousand dollars and she tells me I’ll get a few more. but none of it was adding up.. where was this money coming from?

Now my brother had always told me (BTW he got kicked out too) that she was getting paid for adopting us- I knew that didn’t add up but the following explained a lot.

In personal finance we were studying social security etc. So I brought the check in and asked my teacher what she thought it was and she asked me-

“Did your dad die?”

“I said well the guy who originally adopted me like 10 years ago, did.”

She said “Well there you go- she’s been getting monthly checks for both you and your brother. You just turned 18 didn’t you?”

“Yea?”

“She no longer can legally cash them because they are in your name…”

Ah that makes sense. So all those years that money could have been put towards college, a car, clothes and ya know, food, for school.

So happy birthday- heres some money that’s legally yours and a phone you can pay for because you’re off our plan now. Talk about the most awkward birthday ever, (Prepping for the big kickout)

I made it longer than she had been preparing me for- just shy of a month longer.

Another one of our daily fights occurred- I believe this one was because I was taking a shower- during the day- and singing none the less.

It turned into one of our ridiculous fights and ended face-to-face.

“You need to make other living arrangements.” She said.

I will give it to her, she tried to say it in a way my 9 year old sister didn’t understand.

But she did.

She started bawling “No, don’t make her” and she clung to my leg.

So that was it. I grabbed my pillow and shoved some clothes in it and started walking down the road with my little lacy walking next to me. I then called up my friend whom I was going to go prom dress shopping with since I had my newly received funds to see if she could pick me up early.

I then had to do the ‘ole “Hey I just got kicked out can I stay with you for the night until I figure something out? Oh and can my dog come too.”

After her graciously saying yes we still went shopping as if nothing happened. After all- no shocker it happened.

So there you have it- Well the majority of senior year.. and if you think that was a dramatic and life-changing year— HA! There’s literally so much more that happened in that same time frame- but seriously- a wonderful story for another time.

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That story– it isn’t the worst scenario and that’s not the point. I didn’t get raped. It didn’t happen multiple times.  There isn’t a point to this story. It’s just facts to inform.

What is stated above is the truth, I did not run away march 12th 2012.

Because tell me this. Why in the world would I ever run away 2 months from graduation over a stupid fight that happened just like every other night. If I would have run away- don’t you think I would have done it back in October?

Exactly.

But no one in the adult world knew about what truly happened and no one believed what I had to say.

Do you know what its like to constantly be painted as a troubled teen that ran away. Not only that- this picture was being painted in the church- but because they played the part (Christian) well to the people that mattered like the pastor and other leaders nothing else mattered.

But I’ll dive into that later- Maybe my next entry?

That’s why I write- to challenge perspective, in hopes if you ever encounter a situation that is similar even in the slightest of ways- maybe this blog will encourage a different approach.

And that truly is all I want ❤

 

 

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Shout-outs

Highschool Counselor: Thank you for helping me through this and standing up for me- In order to go to Malone I had to file under “Special Case- Abuse” and have it professionally endorsed saying my situation was true. So thank you! I will forever be in your debt!

Friend that I ate lunch with everyday: Thank you for keeping me from starving.

The family that allowed me to move in after being kicked out: Thank you for taking me in on such short notice and providing me, my dog and horse a place to reside.