My Story

My parents were the hot drop-outs of high school.  Only 17 when she married my dad, my mom had no idea what she was in for.  She had to hitchhike home from work while pregnant with me because dad had her car out with another woman.  Yeah, he was kind of a dick.  One of those super hot, sexy men that think they can pretty much treat women how they want.  Not cool.

I was born a year later, breech, emergency c-section and with displaced hips.  I was in a hip brace for the first few months of my life.  I was colichy, testing mom's patience.  She loves to tell the story about when I bit the tip of her big toe and would not let go.  She says she was dancing all over the place trying to get me off.  Apparently I thought it was hilarious and hung on tighter.  Poor thing, she still loved me after that.

Dad would yell and lose his temper over the smallest little thing.  It would scare my mom, especially after I was in the picture.

Not surprisingly, mom left my dad for his best friend, Dave.  They ran away to Alaska together, with me in tow.  Dad made an effort to get her back, but mom had had enough.  Plus, she'd gotten rid of Dave and had met My Mikey, as I called him.  He was what I thought was a really cool dude.  Granted, I was 2 at the time and his bipolar hadn't yet surfaced.  Mom fell in love with him.

Somewhere along the line I started calling him dad.  It didn't help the cause that we lived in Barrow, AK.  A really long way from my real dad, who I didn't see for a few years.  When I eventually did, it was really awkward.  I remember the pictures they took that day.  He had his arm around my waist and I was so uncomfortable.

While in Barrow, mom and dad were busy hosting the town's hottest coke parties.  They even ventured into smuggling, but that was pretty much a one-time thing.  I was at these parties with my own play-coke.  I was sitting on a family friend's lap with my chalkboard.  As I gently erased the chalk into the corner, he asked me what I was doing, to which I replied "I'm saving my coke for later", referring to the chalkboard dust.  This was my foundation.

Then neighbor girl decided that I would be her lesbian lover.  She taught me the art of oral sex and I was a pro by the time I was 3.  We'd hide in my closet or her room, both of our parents completely oblivious to the molestation occurring right under their noses.

My parents would fight.  A lot.  After everyone went home or passed out, my parents would be ripping each others' hair out or strangling each other.  I learned how to call 9-1-1 by the time I was 4 because I often had to call them to break up my parents' fights.  The police were my heros.

That is until they murdered my mentally ill cousin.  Right in front of his grandma, who had called the police because he was upset.  And mentally ill.  Who else should she have called??  Who would have thought they would shoot him, just because he is standing in front of his car, with a closed pocket knife in his hand?  Seriously, that pocket knife, which was closed, cost my 21 year old cousin his life.  And ruined the rest of his mom and grandma's life.  They are forever haunted by the fact that his grandma unknowingly called his murderer to the house.

Anyway, back to the early years.  We moved from Barrow, the land of whaling, walruses and polar bears; to the small suburb of Seattle: Issaquah.  The coke stopped, but drinking and chain smoking continued.  Fighting increased until a divorce finally happened, which was a welcome relief from the craziness that had become Mike.  He would swing from manic and financing $60,000 trucks to so depressed that he took three bullets out for the gun: one for him, my mom and myself.  Yeah, I was happy about the divorce, despite the fact that mom had reconnected with Dave.  He moved right in and was such a pain.  Luckily he lasted about as long as he did the first time.

Unfortunately, mom decided to end it all while home alone with me.  She OD'd on a bunch of pills.  Her friend happened to call and heard something wasn't right.  When she stopped by the house my mom was passed out in the living room.  I was playing alone in my room, as usual.  Karen immediately called 911.  I was terrified as they took my unconscious mom out on a stretcher.  Karen took me to Mike's house that night.

A couple night's later, over the weekend, Mike took my sister and I to Karen's house to hang out.  My sister and I had been watching movies in the back bedroom.  When we needed to change the movie I went into the living room.  I suddenly froze in disbelief.  My step dad was laying on his back and Karen was hunched over him, her head bobbing up and down.  I knew what I  saw was very bad so I turned and went back to the bedroom.  My mind was reeling- my mom had just attempted suicide and her husband and best friend were having sex, which I just walked in on.