#I think the hyperactive imagination of a 12 year old girl raised on hunger games and percy jackson and hermione granger WOULD kill someone

[casiavium]

things that all-girl lord of the flies inspired fiction like yellowjackets and beauty queens fail to achieve is the fact that in the original the boys who started all the chaos were in choir. I truly believe that all that happened simply because they were stuck there with theater kids

[relatablyinsane-blog]

Quadpolar Part 2!

Just want to let you know that i had instant bloggers remorse after that last post. Welp, I've stepped in it now.

So i totally forgot to mention that I'm adopted (see: Symptoms of ADHD; rushing, inventiveness), pretty important stuff. That means my nice, old fashioned, very old, worked in the post office their whole life parents are not, in fact my real parents. What they did was reach into a barrel of discarded babies and pull out a meth head kid. (Sorry to my biological mom reading this, we have to go in context for a bit). For the sake of sanity my adoptive mom will be Mom and my biological mom will be Mama, although that didn't happen til MUCH later.

I was adopted at birth and told as soon as i was old enough to understand, something i appreciate my adoptive parents for. They never kept secrets from me, made sure i knew what sex was right off the bat, my super paranoid mom even gave me a book CALLED "Child lures" (I'm not kidding this was literally a pedophile's handbook for a seven year old to read, look it up. Fucked up.) But as far as how true it all was, maybe I'll never know.

What I was told by my adoptive mom was that my biological mother was a drug addict with two other kids already (my sister was 4 and my brother was 2). My father, who she was with at the time, was also a drug addict. As the story goes (i still haven't dared to ask), while high on meth one day he beat my baby brother so bad that his ribs and arm were broken and he now has permanent neurological damage. Last i knew my brother had just gotten out of jail and was homeless, so his life hasn't really improved. That was about the time the state of Arkansas decided that my mother, pregnant with me at the time, would no longer have custody of her children and we would all be placed for adoption immediately. My sister and brother, who shared a father that was different from mine, were placed in an orphanage and my Mama chose my adoptive parents to take me from birth. I had no correspondence with her for decades and didn't want to- to me she was a vile, despicable woman like all the drug addicts in the world- but i had mever even met someone on drugs so what did I know? So, born in Arkansas, raised in New Jersey and then....

Fast forward to the good part: the part that sticks my crazy ass in the awful state of Maine. I liked vacationing there, but did i want to move there? Hell no! My one best friend in the world, the boy next door who I'd grown up with and was the same age as, was not coming with us. It was in the middle of nowhere, on the eve of my Fifth grade year. Having skipped a grade, I was only 9 at the time. I distinctly recall my first car ride to the rural beach town, during which I had a small mental break down and screamed "THEY'RE DRIVING TRACTORS ON THE ROAD!!!" because that was just <i>unheard of.</i> The only kid on the street, eventual cheer captain, straight A student and model child was my age but wanted nothing to do with the hyperactive menace next door who came over uninvited and played with the dogs. Yep, that was me. Forcing myself into the company of people who didn't want me around.

And thus I started school at the local K through 8. Wait. K through 8? How many kids went to this school????? Must be like TEN THOUSAND!! Back in Jersey there were 2-3 grade levels to a school, 30 kids to a class and 11 of each grade.That's over 600 kids in just two grades! (And i still had no friends. Sob. Seriously i must have been an awful kid.) You never had the same classmates twice, classes switched every grade. I couldn't imagine how FRIGGEN HUGE a school with every grade in it would be!!

What? What's that. There are HOW MANY kids in my class?

16. And how many in the grade? 16.

....so there's one fifth grade? And how many kids in the school??? ......a little over a hundred.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAA.

At first i was pumped. I get to make friends and stay with them all the way till high school?! YES. Except this was when I remember my life becoming a living hell.

At this point i had been on at least three different medications for ADHD and none of them worked. Ritalin, Concerta, Stratera etc. Apparently i was still as annoying as ever because i remember being tormented relentlessly. Like, relentlessly. When there's only 16 kids in the class and you're the target, there's no escape. The teacher's let it happen. I was called hippopotamus. My lunch got spat in. I was mocked in front of the class. I was called stupid. Everyone would argue about having to sit next to me and i would just sit alone, or if someone did have to sit with me (usually the teacher assigned someone which made it worse) they would push my things off my desk or ask to copy my work once they realized i was almost as smart as the smartest girl in the class.

And i let them. I wanted SO fucking badly to be popular, to have a friend, fucking anything. It always blew up in my face. As soon as i was done being used for answers, a good place in line, a random good pick for a team or something, i was immediately shunned again. I buried myself in my extracurriculars (now it was swim team, violin and piano), joined band, chorus, jazz band, softball and soccer. I told my parents very little unless they were being dragged in for parent teacher conferences about how i was inattentive and always acting out. My grades began to slip because I was starting to learn about depression and constantly forgot to do my homework. My strict as hell parents were making me practice piano and violin for hours a day and my only solace was my meager 30 minutes of Nintendo 64 time per day. At one point my sixth grade teacher (stupid bitch, i hope you enjoy your cancer (sorry, y'all)) told my parents i wasn't as smart as everyone said and i should be held back because she thought i was autistic. I'm a lot of things, but not fucking autistic.

In the summer before seventh grade i finally got a reprieve in the form of my still longest best friend and the miracle drug Adderall. For those who don't know, Adderall is an amphetamine based ADHD medication and widely abused for it's stimulant properties. For anyone with ADHD however, it mellows the shit out of us and makes us super focused. Well, I'm a little allergic to it, so it actually makes me aggressive. On top of that, it makes your appetite nonexistent so, surprisingly, your favorite curvy girl Jay developed an eating disorder. Not on purpose at first. I just wasnt hungry so i didn't eat. I skipped breakfast, skipped lunch, ate the light dinner my parents prepared and went to bed. Hunger was nonexistent. Then one day i woke up and discovered myself at about 135 pounds, i tried on my first pair of short shorts out shopping with my mom. I'll never fucking forget looking in the mirror and saying out loud "Wow... I actually look great in these!" I didn't realize it was the Adderall at the time but I let it get worse. Whenever i did eat off my only light dinner schedule i would make myself throw up. I eventually got down to 117 pounds. My lowest weight. I stayed there for years. Once i had a state ID with me at that weight. Even at 12 i looked emaciated. It was revolting. I kept that ID for awhile to remind myself how awful i looked and to remind me that I look better curvy, but then i got fat and it made me sad. But i digress.

When i got back to school I suddenly gave not a single fuck about anyone picking on me. Adderall made my emotions <i>nonexistent</i>, but my temper started to boil. As a punching bag i was still pretty friendly and docile, like a big dumb dog that comes trotting back for another beating time and time again. Now i was silent and glowery. People took notice, and that's where my first real best friend came in. Let's call her Patti. I will always remember the day it really happened. I was the first person in line for recess, a great honor, but all my classmates were playing the "EW I DON'T WANT TO STAND NEXT TO HER" game. As per usual. I didn't really care. Thank god for drugs amirite? But then one voice rang out above the crowd of heckling...

I'm just kidding, it was more of a frustrated "seriously guys? Grow up." and then there was Patti. Someone who'd never joined in the terrorizing- i didn't and still don't blame anyone who didn't speak up. It would have made them a target too. But why? She was a cheerleader. I don't think anyone disliked her. She wasn't "popular" but she'd been going to this school since kindergarten and knew everyone. I guess I'll never really understand. But she was a lifesaver, even before the depression got really bad. She actually got to know me, the real me, she realized (and helped me realize too) that i was funny, and goofy and smart, and friendly. Eventually, because of her, some of the others started to come around too, but none of them were ever quite as close to me as she was. I thank god for this girl pretty regularly. Not as much as i should lately.

But there was still the matter of the bullies- and of my short fuse. I had my first kiss that year and a few short lived "boyfriends"- all from other schools of course, it would have been an unforgivable taboo to be interested in Jay. But that year was the year i put my foot down. As i mentioned earlier, Adderall had made me apathetic, but also very, very aggressive. The rage built slowly for several months until one fateful day in art class. I can't remember what i was doing to deserve this comment, i genuinely wish i could, but one of my usual enemies decided to say "No wonder your parents didn't want you!"

She was across the table from me and before i knew it i had launched myself across the table and had my hand up around her throat. No squeezing, just pressure. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head and the entire room fucking froze. It was like something out of a movie. That was the first time i ever rage cried. If i ever get angry enough that my eyes start to water, someone's gonna get hurt. We both got sent to the principal, maybe because the sensible art teacher recognized a normally good natured kid snapping. I looked dead into that principal's eyes and told him that I'd had enough. I was tired of being picked on every single day and having nothing done. Teachers watched and let it happen. Some fucking joined in. HE let it happen after i told him time and time again what was going on. I didnt get in trouble. The bullying receded a good amount that day. It didn't stop completely until almost the end of the year.

Through my mother's networking at church i had become friends with one of the most popular girls at a neighboring school- a gorgeous russian adopted girl with a thick accent and a very early onset sex drive. Yikes. In turn, she introduced me to her brother, who i began "dating" for several months. By "dating" i mean we held hands and made out under the bleachers at YMCA dances and he tried to get me to give him a blowjob at my 12th birthday party. Jesus yikes. Needless to say that relationship didn't last long but I'd suddenly earned a reputation of someone who was- dare i say it- close to popular?

Then there was the summer of 2004. The best few months of my life. Patti and i were inseperable, we rode our bikes around the town every day, snuck into the state park, ate ice cream at the little trailer shop nearby, stayed up all night then nodded off through church the next day. And we dreamed. Oh sweet jesus did we dream about getting as far away from our shitty little town as possible and never coming back. I had honestly never been happier and for the first time in my life i had a best friend. I had a birthday party at the end of the school year and a bunch of people came- people from my school!- we genuinely had an amazing time. The girls all slept over and for once, finally, i felt like i belonged.

Eighth grade was a breeze, if you skim over Adderall making me almost punch my mom in the face. It was the first and last time i ever raised a fist to my parents. But it had done it's job. I wasn't getting picked on, i gained a little more weight and filled out nicely, I excelled at academics, won awards in jazz band, joined the bangor youth symphony orchestra, and actually made real friends (none in my school save for patti really.)

So.... That's my life up until high school. That's when i met depression. 😘