Okay. If you have opened this story, that means you've agreed to become a 'spectator' to what I would call a rather awkward life. It's all true. All happening. Everyday. Though for the sake of my sanity and that of the people who will be mentioned in this journal series, I'm going to address fake names to everyone. Why would I make something so personal so public?
Well...I really don't know. Entertainment? Educational value? Boredom?
These are all likely reasons. But really I just want to share my story with you guys. With someone. As they say, talking about these things may make them better. Not saying that my life sucks. I've been very fortunate. However, life is not without many hardships. I've had my fair share already in my 20 short years. But, anyway, I'm rambling. Let's just get to the 'story' shall we?
First, as with any good story, I shall reveal some background information for you guys. Keep in mind this is about to get real depressing real fast (damnit, I know. I know. Not what you wanted to hear >.<).
My name is 'Evelyn Shadows' (Cool name, right?). Life tryed to shoot me down from the very beginning. Let me explain. Whenever my mother was pregnant with me, the doctor's tests suggested there was a good chance I would be born with Down Syndrome. (I have loads of respect for individuals with Down Syndrome - just throwing that out there).
Because of this, my biological father wanted an abortion. He was very persistent about it, but my mom refused to even consider that an option. This caused some 'bad blood' between my family and him. As a result, he was not allowed to be there when I was born. From that day forward my grandmother despised him, and didn't want him anywhere near us kids.
This of course, led to him threatening to kidnap my older brother and sister. A ridiculous plan that did not go anywhere. When I was newly 3 years old, our father left us. Soon after I had to get my tonsils removed through dental surgery. This is when they discovered I had a bleeding disorder. (Imagine Hemophilia for girls). It was called Von Willebrand's Disease. I was fortunate enough to have the mildest form. Although, my blood disorder required a crap ton of blood testing. As you can imagine, I quickly developed a fear of doctors and needles.
My childhood in my own head can be a bit sketchy at parts. Therefor not all of the details are very clear. I don't remember many good times. I do remember a lot of the bad. Anyway, carrying on.
As I grew older, my mom had to work all the time to support all of us. We had moved in with a friend of hers who would later become her 'boyfriend' (They never got married). His name was Wayne. Admittedly, our years spent at Wayne's trailer in the middle of the woods were the best years and some of the worst of my life. Wayne had been the closest thing we ever had to a father. That statement still holds true to this day.
(I'm sad to say that just last year, 2014, Wayne passed away due to rabies. He was still young, and it devastated all of us when he died. The circumstances surrounding his death is a long story...something I'll probably address later).
At this point in time my mom had her last child, my little brother, Eric. Because he was a baby, Wayne took him in as his own. This caused some slight jealousy issues with the rest of us who were not treated as fairly. Eric grew up spoiled.
While we lived at Wayne's trailer, a lot of bullying happened. Wayne was often gone or not around. Mom was at work all the time or sleeping. And so, with two older siblings (who were evil children) I recieved unrestrained bullying from them for many years. I understand that siblings giving each other a hard time is completely natural.
With this in mind, here are some of the things I had to endure for years:
-Being locked in the closet (I was terrified of the dark) for long periods of time
-Brutal teasing and vocal abuse
-Occassional physical abuse
-Hazardous pranks (Imagine drinking a cup of multiple bathroom items, being told it was a cure for your sore throat)
Yeah, so that's some of that. I believe this is what led me to become the reserved, quiet-spoken person I am today. Writing it out it doesn't seem all that bad. But I was a sensitive kid. And all of this inevitably led to multiple contemplations of suicide at various ages.
Now, obviously I never acted upon such depressing thoughts, but suicide is no joke. No kid or teenager, or even adult should ever have to be pushed to that point. I remember almost all of the times I wanted to commit suicide.
(This topic's a bit touchy - you can keep scrollin if you want to, I understand >.<)
I remember when I was younger, I was in my bedroom alone with the door locked. Mom was gone. Wayne was somewhere else. Everyone was ignoring me completely as they often did. I grew so upset and depressed that I simply laid in bed holding a knife above my heart. A kitchen knife I had swiped and kept in my room hidden for such occasions. I was at least 9-11 years old then.
I remember how terrified I felt. Not scared at the thought of dying. But scared that no one would know. No one could stop me. And that no one would. I would cry violently, always trying to remain silent so no one would know. The knife would be shaking because I was trembling all over. I would even sometimes slightly poke myself, willing the strength to end it. I remember thinking, If I could just finish it...it would all be over...I wouldn't have to live like this anymore...No one would miss me.
I was wrong. I didn't get that until years later. Other instances I grew a bit more inventive. Contemplated hanging myself, suffocation, drowning, cutting, and eventually over-dosing. I want to say that with time I got better and didn't get into bouts of depression like that. But that would be a lie. I didn't get over my depression until a couple of years ago. There were far too many times I would sit in my room in the dark crying silent sobs, feeling completely helpless and alone. I hated myself. I was my own worst enemy. I would sit there on my bed with a handful of pills. The oppurtunities I had for these things was staggering. And it made me even more depressed.
Whenever I was at my lowest points, I had a secret weapon that got me threw them every time. I was not scared of dying. I was not scared of the pain. I was terrified of the aftermath. As I got older, my family and I became closer and closer. My older brother stopped being a huge asshole (though he can be pretty often still), my older sister became my best friend, and my little brother...he became my inspiration. He is the one who saved me when I was little. I adored him and I was his protector. In the back of my head I always knew that no matter how bad it got I needed to pull through for him. And I did.
Of course, as I got older I grew to see just how wrong I was when I was younger. I learned more about my mom's past. My mom is my hero, and if not for Eric, I would do anything for her. (Unfortunately all the others don't respect her like I've grown to). Now-a-days my mom's come to depend on me a lot.
Out of all four of us, it seems like sometimes I'm the only one who really understands the big picture. Mom's story is also a long one, so I won't discuss it in this journal.
But moving away from all that depressing stuff (that's way behind me now thank goodness), I will tell you about the second biggest douchebag in my life since my biological dad.
His name is Heith. After we could no longer live with Wayne, mom soon found another mystery man from internet dating. Now, we had never met the guy before. Mom went on two dates with him. TWO DATES. Next thing we know, mom tells us we're going to be moving in with him. You can imagine our response to that. (HELL NO!)
Anyway, long story short we moved in with the guy. Turns out that our new place was in a new area so we had to change schools.
I haven't really discussed it yet, but I will take the time now to tell you about my two best friends. I shall call them Kristen and Amy. I met Kristin in Kindergarden, and I met Amy in second grade. Eric held a big part in getting me through tough times, but these two girls also were there for me no matter what. And I know that those kind of friendships are hard to come by, so I'm very grateful for them. We had been insepperable since we met all those years ago. I had to change schools right after 8th grade. There were many tears, and fights about the school change, but looking back on it now I'm not sure why. The new school was literally 15 minutes away from the old one.
But I grew up a socially-awkward person and I knew I would not make friends at a new school. Especially just starting High School. It was terrifying. Being a new kid sucks major when you're a bit of a loner. I was afraid that changing schools would affect my friendships from my old school. But low and behold we're still as close as ever. Granted, there were a lot of life milestones we didn't get to go through together which I sometimes regret. But ultimately the new school was way better for me.
It forced me to venture out of my shell a little and make new connections. I did eventually make some great friends my Sophmore year of High School. They were Band Geeks like me. Harmless, and loads of fun XD
However, the friends I managed to make were all a grade above me so by time Senior Year rolled around, I was back to square one. I had one good friend who was in my grade, but we weren't all that close. So I spent a lot of time with Kristen and Amy whenever I was able. My social-awkwardness in High School is a whole other story O.O
Moving on...where was I?
Oh yeah. Heith. Right, so he turned out to be a real asshole. Not soon after we'd been living with him he got drunk and 'assualted' my mom. I put that in quotes because technically he did not hurt her. I was not actually present at the time. I was later told this by Eric. He got mad at her about something and ended up pinning her to the ground to get his point across. Needless to say, I hated the guy.
Later down the road, he would get drunk multiple times and yell at her often. We endured verbal abuse from him for years. He was relatively harmless, but I hated him. We all did. But we were too poor to support ourselves therefor, and I know what you guys are thinking...my mom has been kind of a gold-digger. But only because she has to be to support us. Now that we're older maybe not so much but back then...you know what I mean.
Heith also innappropriatly texted and hit on my big sister. This made her incredibly uncomfortable, and she moved out as soon as she could. That whole situation was a mess, and mom still didn't leave him. This has caused me to feel uncomfortable around him for years. Did I already mention how much I hate him? >.>
Well one day, we did move out....just to move in with a new internet 'buddy' of hers, Don. (I acknowledge that my mom's taste in men sucks, and I've told her so myself on multiple occassions). He was a veteran and had lost his leg in combat. That's not anything major but it took some getting used to. Mom warned us of his PTSD, but I didn't really concern myself with it until one day I was forced to.
Mom had been acting funny, and I didn't know why. She was avoiding him. I assumed they'd been in a fight again. Eric and I were at the trailer watching a movie in the living room when it happened. I distantly heard muffled shouting and then banging. I remember the sense of dread that filled me at the sound. I was froze in shock, as was Eric. It wasn't until I heard things being knocked around and my mom cry out that I acted. I immediately jumped up and ran to their room with Eric close behind me. I yanked open the door, ready to break it down if it was locked. I saw mom stumbling towards the door, red faced and breathing hard. She had his fake leg in hand and he was on the floor cussing her out. She didn't waste time getting out of the room, maybe because I was yelling at her to get out, and we all went outside leaving him there.
I was so confused on what had happened. My mom took us across the street where, coincidentally, a police officer lived. And so Eric, and I waited with her as the cops came and investigated the scene for domestic violence. I learned later that Don had tried to strangle her, he had hit her a few times. I remember how infuriated I was looking at the bright red marks on her throat. I wanted nothing more then to go back and beat the living hell out of him.
I hated how helpless I felt. It was the same helplessness I felt during those drunken nights with Heith. I hated Don even more. Mom had impacted some damage on him though and he needed to go to the hospital. So she took him despite my protests. Of course by then my big brother and sister had found out. I got a call from her saying my brother was on his way to beat the crap out of Dean. I tried calling him but he wouldn't answer. As soon as he got back he stormed in and demanded to know where he was. (He's a bit hot tempered). And then he got mad at me for not calling him sooner.
We were all extremely upset. But my mom made us stay with him for a bit longer after that incident. I hated him with every fiber of my being for hurting my mom. I didn't feel safe around him and always felt paranoid when we were home. Then we moved back in with Heith. At the time I thought anything was better than Don.
And that's were we've been since. Currently my mom's working on getting her own place for her and Eric to stay at. Heith's stilla jackass, but a relatively harmless one.
As you can tell, if you've read this whole thing, a lot of crappy things have happened in my life so far. There's a lot I haven't included as well. Things that deserve their own journal. But I think this is plenty long enough.
Right, so if you've stuck with me up to this point I am surprised and grateful ^_^
A lot of that stuff is depressing and things I never want to remember, but it's my past. It's shaped me into the person I am today. And it is my backstory, so maybe you all can understand me a little better :)
I know there's a lot of times it could have been worse. I'm not saying it was all bad. I know there are people out there who have dealt with so much worse than I have. And I'm sorry for that.
If any of you guys have experienced sucky life events like these feel free to message me or comment or somethin. I would love to talk to you more about it. Because, things like these are inevitable. Stuff like insecurity, living in fear in your own home, depression, facing bankruptcy, self-esteem issues, etc.
I've experienced all of that. But life goes on, and so should we. No matter how we do it. I for example choose to live life optimistically now. I'm trying to be a better person and not let my past define me so much as it always has. I invite you guys to join me in the hella awkward life I'm living. I don't know what I'm doing, but then again...who does?