I had a tough childhood, tough enough to change who i became as an adult. I remember being "down" or depressed at the age of eight. It was at this age my responsibilities became clear to me, and that my mom wasn't going to be there for me or my little sisters who were two and one, so i did.
My mom has always had a problem with depression since her sister died and has been an addict of some sort since. My whole life i knew she never wanted to be a mom, that we were just side effects of her drug abuse and party lifestyle. She also made no effort to be a mom, she wanted to be the cool friend.
So that meant that as an eight year old, i had to step up for these little babies she was neglecting. I had to essentially become a mom, but had no guide, no mommy role model. This made my life hard, this made me resentful, full of sorrow and depressed as an eight year old.
My mom would leave to go on job interviews, and not come back for 3 and 4 days at a time. Sometimes she would get picked up for prostitution and spend a few days in jail. I had to skip school, cause nobody else was there to take care of the babies. I had to steal my moms food stamps and lie to her about it so i could feed the babies. I had to potty train them both cause we didn't have money to buy diapers. Our house was so infested with cockroaches i remember pouring a box of cereal in a bowl and there being more cockroaches then cereal.
Looking back i am disgusted for many reasons. My mom has four sisters who knew exactly what was going on. They would even bring by groceries every so often and cry to me about how they couldn't do much else. I didn't understand how these people could be so weak. But they all were dealing with there own demons and depression. I remember trying to talk to teachers when i did manage to make it to school, and they wouldn't do anything. This is about the time that the first "no child left behind act" was passed and i was totally left behind.
I remember thinking life is hard, to hard, at eight years old. My sisters dad got married to a women who had two kids about the same age as the girls so he started seeing us more. He is a good man, probably the only one my mom has ever been with. He quickly realized the situation we were in and fought my mom in court to get custody of the girls, which he did successfully. The only bad thing about this was i was now alone.
There is a gap in my memory spanning a couple of years. I don't remember anything from this time. Starting right after my sisters left. I think my brain is trying to protect me, i think things must have got really horrible since my mom, wasn't responsible for little kids anymore. I do have one memory, and its kinda haunting. I remember my mom making me poke a guy with a needle in the arm, and him convulsing not long after.
I remember as a ten year old, not wanting to do normal ten year old activities. I remember thinking i wanted to die. Nobody would help me. I remember not being able to put into words the things i was feeling, not having the vocabulary to express my deep hurt. I felt like everyone's punching bag. My mom and my biological dad and i somehow started living together again, but not as a family. Things didn't last long cause my mom put a restraining order out on him and so he turned my mom into the police since she had several outstanding warrants.
I had to hide my mom from the police and watch her pack a bag to leave me behind. I had to say goodbye to her. Not only did she leave me but i couldn't go to my dad because there was a restraining order keeping him from me because of there juvenile fight. So i was alone again. I remember after sitting for 8 hours waiting in my house in agony, calling my aunt who the police supposedly called but didn't. She came and picked me up, she had a son about a year younger then me. I very vividly remember her sitting on her kitchen floor crying to me saying she can't take me in, it would be to much of a burden. I was a burden. This hurt me more than i can express in words.
My mom eventually did the time in jail for her warrants, after running for a bit. Oh, she was 8 moths pregnant when this all went down by the way. I moved in with her, my new brother and his abusive father. He broke my nose one night while i was trying to keep my brother from being hit, my mom did nothing. I knew then that something had to change, that i couldn't do this anymore. About this time my sisters started coming over to visit with us for a week at a time. I remember there dad who i called dad since i was 5 and his new wife giving me money so the girls could eat while they were visiting. They still knew how bad it was. I eventually went to back to there house with them for a visit and telling them that i couldn't go back, and they let me stay. I felt more accepted and loved in that moment then i had ever experienced in my life. Someone wanted me.
Things got a little easier, i didn't have to steal to feed my sisters, but also very tough because now not only did i have all this pain inside that i didn't know what to do with but i had raging hormones on top of it. I had spent a lifetime appearing to be normal, acting like nothing was wrong so my sisters wouldn't have to worry.
I was a deeply depressed teenager. I eventually shared with my dad and his wife that i needed help, and they got me on some anti-depressants. They didn't help me any, instead they had the adverse affect and made me want to kill myself. This is something i couldn't share for some reason. Instead i got them to change my meds and again it wasn't the right one for me, they didn't work and made me feel worse.
I tried killing myself so many times, i would prepare everything but never could go through with it. The only thing that saved me was my sisters. I loved them so much and knew it would be devastating to them if they lost there big sister. I loved them to much to do this to them, i loved them more then myself. I lived in agony for so long and would continue to live it if it meant they wouldn't have to feel hurt or sad. I could never do anything to make those girls feel anything then happy. So i never went through with it. I should really thank them, but this is something i have never talked with them about. So girls if i never work up the courage to tell you, if on the off chance you read this, THANK YOU!
Things eventually got better, i moved in with my loving grandmother. I still had a really hard time with taking anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication. I must have tried 6 different types but all of it making it worse, making me more "sick". I eventually got in a routine of eating right and working out, while having positive relationships or positive people in my life and things got better.
I still feel like i have a gaping hole in my heart, but i have so much love in my life now i sometimes forget about it. I'm sorry if you are still reading that this is so incredibly long. My intention was just to write a little but this all came spilling out, i think this is the most i have talked about my past ever.
We call depression on my moms side of the family, "the family disease". Its kinda a joke but really depression is not. If you feel like you may be experiencing symptoms ask for help! But remember pills don't always work, if your doctor keeps trying to fix you with
pills, find a new doctor! I think i put myself through a lot more hurt
trying to fix my issues with a pill.
