Sorry Everybody :)

I know that yesterday's post wasn't the best. I admit that and knew it was bad before I even started writing it, you may say that my pre-hatred of it made it not great, but I was not in the right frame of mind. This should be happy, not some crappy assignment I dread. Usually I like to do my blog, but the last couple weeks I haven't loved it. So now you get to hear about my problems, but hey, it's more real than whatever the crap that last post was.

I have seriously hated everything the last week or so. I am sick of people and the world seems to be caving in. I am claustrophobic when I am just in class or in the hall way, something is off. I have not wanted to do my blog and it has consequently gotten not very great.

I care too much what everyone thinks, so when everyone started saying they read my blog I got panicked. At first it was okay, but some how the numbers went up and each person increased my stress exponentially. By yesterday there was nothing I felt like I could write. I have things to say, but there was a reason for everything on why I couldn't write about that topic. I figured Sest was a pretty safe bet, after all no one knows her, and no one cares. If you hated my blog I was hoping you would stop reading it and I wouldn't have to worry about that (subconsciously, I am glad this is not just like some online diary, even if my readers are like Shelby and Mr.Thompson and maybe on occasion Pink Lady, I am glad you read it.)

Back to why I haven't been happy or writing what I am thinking. I guess from the second paragraph you may have guessed that I am kind of depressed. I want to say I am just stressed or something, but that would be a lie. I have gotten sick, gotten depressed, or had something traumatic happen almost every year around this time. I hate October to January. There is nothing noticeably wrong, nothing happens really, and if you didn't talk to me personally you would never know I was upset. I don't hide things well, but I can contain my emotions. No one really cares to know if you are okay, as long as you act all happy and peppy and all that. Which means that unless you are Shelby or my mom you probably haven't noticed how unhappy I am  a lot.

People talk to me everyday, and as long as you like act like you haven't seen them in a year and it is the greatest thing ever, no one will question it. I started freaking out in seminary today, I am glad no one in my class notices me besides like Mad Dog, because I am sure I looked as panicked as I felt. No one in swim noticed my behavior either, well almost no one. Shelby noticed because I was texting her last week and started melting down. She could tell that I was upset, but I don't think my explanation did anything to clear  up anything.  Jinni also noticed I was upset today. A boy at swim touched me and I just glared at him and told him to never, EVER touch me again. He laughed and touched me again, and I got even more angry, but not in a comical way, in a way that Jinni at least could tell I was close to snapping. She told him to not touch me, and he obeyed. After swim he touched me again, and I didn't take it any better then. Back to Jinni, she could tell that I was not okay, so she just looked at me in the eyes and asked if I was okay. She asked who I was mad at and threatened whoever had hurt me. I said it was a long story, and when she insisted I at least tell her later I told her it was a REALLY long story.

In a sense it is a long story. It is more of the story of my life. I will explain the best I can now what is wrong. I am generally a happy person, I like small spaces, and I love people, so why do I feel like everything is wrong and hard, claustrophobic in open spaces, and wish everyone would shut up and go somewhere else? Funny you should wonder, here is why. (P.S. I will personally hurt you if you ever use this against me, because people have and they are lucky to be alive.)

I wrote about Sest because I miss her. I really miss her and her strangeness. She and I haven't gotten along great lately, or for like a year or two, but I miss her a lot. She is the only one who helped me on one of the worst days of my life.

October 27 in sixth grade started out as a great day, I kicked a kid and my teacher told him to let it go, it wasn't a big deal. Everything when right, and both of my teachers were being really nice to me, like nicer than you would expect. I understood the next day why when they looked at me they looked with pity. It was a great day, but when I got home I could tell something was not right. My mom was standing in the kitchen holding two blizzards, one for me one for my sister. As great as this was the look on her face said bad news. She told me Collette was dead. I burst into tears, then called three people, Sest, Jade, and Karma. I called Sest first, at first she thought I was kidding, she thought it was a joke until I started sobbing incoherently. She then felt my pain and started asking if I was okay. She let me cry and try to talk, she told me she was going to get me a blizzard when we finally hung up. Next I called Jade, Jade is my Biological dad, and Collette's ex-husband (give you any hints?). I called him and tried to get comfort, he didn't listen, only called her bad things and said what a horrible person she was. I was too nice then to yell at him, so I just set the phone on my bed and cried while I heard him going on and on about her imperfections. I couldn't stand it, but I didn't have the heart to make him stop bashing her. After him I made a call that I thought would be really hard, calling Karma. Karma is 22 right now. She was on a navy ship at the time, and my mom said that I needed to tell her that Collette was dead. I had to be the one to tell her my mom said. Karma is Collette's oldest child by the way. I told Karma the news, being careful to not cry too hard when I was talking, but to my shock she said she knew, and had known for months. I was so mad at her then I could hardly handle it, she had known, she knew the whole time. She had let me think that Collette had forgotten my birthday, had been ignoring me all this time, when she was dead.

Now you may wonder who Collette is, or you may have guessed, either way she is my biological mother. I am adopted, but not when I was a baby or two or something, I was adopted when I was 11.I was really close to Collette, closer than most anyone. Let me explain first why I was adopted (and no, I am not an orphan, in case you were wondering, I have been asked that, and the answer is no, I am not an orphan and I never lived in an orphanage.)

October 27 is when I found out Collette was gone, but December 10 is when it all started, for me at least. Not when I was in sixth grade of course, but when I was 5. (Did you notice that it is the 12th, two days after that anniversary that I am telling you about my depression? I am not just some wimp that can't get over the past, there is a reason behind it all.)

December 9, 2001 is a night I remember well. I heard my parents talking about how tomorrow they were going to call the police. There were people spying on us and they needed to call the police. I tried to convince them not to. I tried everything I could, but they wouldn't listen. I knew they weren't going to listen to me, so I requested that my mom read me a book before I went to bed, something rare I think. She read me the book and told me to go to bed. She kissed me and left, as she left I vowed I was going to wake up early and hide all the phones in the house. I cried that night, I knew things were going to change tomorrow.

The next morning I hoped I could accomplish my goal and hide all the phones, but I didn't. I had a special blanket, cleverly named special blankey, with me at all times when I was little, and I was scared so I had it over my head when I walked out of my room. The sight that met me was so scary I backed up and closed my bedroom door. I was too late, there were police all over my house. I wrapped my blankey around me closer and ran down the stairs.

It was a clear shot from my room to the couch my mom was seated in. There were officers around her and she had hand cuffs on. I ran down to her, but she couldn't hug me with the hand cuffs on. I think she said something, but I can't remember what, whatever it was she said reminded me to go find my dad. He was on a different couch in a different room, so they couldn't make eye contact I learned, and was also hand cuffed. I was terrified, and only got more scared when the police demanded I show them where my parents' drugs were. I didn't know what they meant, so I assumed that they were talking about insulin (my dad is diabetic) or something. I tried to show them, but I didn't know and they were not satisfied with my answer. I don't know if they realized I was five, because they seemed to think I must know, and they thoroughly looked in the spots I said whatever they were looking for was. I was scared and I was alone. My parent's didn't understand, they were not in a state of reality and I knew it. I was alone because not only were they not really there, I had woken up early so I could hide the phones, so my sisters were still asleep. I walked around confused and lost until they led my mom up stairs to wake my sisters up. It was like a scene from a horror movie or a documentary of a something horrible, she was forced to go up accompanied by police to wake up her kids. She had to come in and let them see that she could not take care of them. I followed and cried, I didn't want to be alone, but I didn't want them to be in the same pain and confusion I was in. At the time Karma was 12 or 13, Rae was 7, and Migi was 2. We got to pack a small bag of clothes, and were rounded into a police car. When my mom was trying to pack something for us, under the close supervision of an officer of course, she was shaking. She could hardly do it, and the officer got impatient with her slowness and did it for her, full of hatred and anger. I sat and watched the scene, and followed when I was told to get into the police car.

In the car I hugged special blankey, and hid my face from everything, only occasionally looking up to see where we were. I know now were we were I think, but at the time I could just see cars and white cement walls on the side of the road. We drove for a long time before arriving at a big building. It seemed like a house, but it wasn't at the same time. We arrived around noon I would guess, and when we got there our things were taken and we were rounded in. We arrived in a laundry room, we had our coats taken, and were given a brief tour of the house. I still didn't know where I was or why, but I knew from what they were saying that we were staying there for a while.

That night I was put in a big room to sleep with too many kids for me to count at that point. I slept on the floor the first night, or laid on the floor at least. I was confused because I still hadn't been told where we were or why, and it was just chaos. To make it worse, they took my special blankey and Karma and Rae slept in a different room; the people that worked there said I could sleep with Karma and Rae, but I didn't want Migi to be alone. I woke up to an alarm of sorts, and when I got up I made cereal like they told me to. I wanted to go to preschool, but was told to wait in the "play room." Play room is a strong term, it was more of a white room with white toys. I sat in a white chair and cried some more, all of the older children got to go to school, so I was alone. Migi was there, but she was playing with a white toy kitchen, oblivious of the situation. There was in the room white walls, a little white chair, a white kitchen set, a window or two, a white room divider and a white door leading out of the little assylum. It wasn't a play room at all, I had heard of white padded rooms, and that is what it reminded me of, a white room for people who had caused problems to society. I sat there all day it seemed like, waiting for the other kids to get out of school.

They got home after what seemed like an impossible amount of time. We ate dinner at a long table with all of the other children. There were all kinds of kids there, a lot were a lot older than me and went to school, and most of the remainder of the kids were babies and tottlers. I maybe slept in that same room one more time, but I got to sleep in bunk beds after that. We switched beds every night and were not allowed to get out. Rae claims to this day that they set the alarms off several times when she would try to get up to go to the bathroom or anything. I personally didn't get out of bed too often, I just cried every night and soon got to know the other girls in the room. I ended up sleeping above or by one girl a lot, she was nice and I enjoyed talking to her. I hope that she ended up alright after her situation was sorted out, what ever her situation was.

The wake up and breakfast schedule changed, and I was always the last one up. I would get to the table after everyone was eating, I would eat alone when they all left, but anything is better than the white "play room" that I would go to after I was done. The ladies that worked there were not nice, they shouldn't have been there. They watched TV and yelled at me and were impatient. They were scary and I avoided them as much as I could. I tried to not go up alone to them.

There was a Christmas party thing when we were there. All the kids went to a building with kids from other shelters were there for ever with nothing to do. Someone spoke about things I couldn't understand for an amazing amount of time. Then we got presents. You may be thinking I shouldn't complain, presents are great right? And people donate good things at those tree things, so it must not be too bad. This was not a charity tree though, and the presents were only okay. What made it crappy is they called each kid up alphabetically---

(I did this monday, I will finish it this week, but I want to post this much before I get bored and decide to post about something else. I hope you liked it if you read it, I promise I will finish the story this week. I just want to be free to post about other things a little because I have a lot to say about the present life crap. Anyways, I know I stopped at a really bad time, like mid-story, but yeah... I can't finish that paragraph today, it takes a surprising amount of energy to write anything about that.)

P.S. Ignore the spelling and grammer and punctuation errors, okay?