Learning and Living Life

At age fifteen I was just like any typical teenager. My parents were divorced three years beforehand and I had an older rebellious sister. Of course, I was a little rebellious myself. My sister had taken the silly styles of a goth and I followed her example. My hair was dark and my clothing was baggy and black. I had chains and skulls on most of my clothing and my make up was thick and dark. My mother always giggled about it and called us raccoons.
My mother was remarried only a year after her divorce with my father. His name was Leon, the moment I met him I could tell that Leon, Chloe, and I were not going to get along.  I always tried to understand my mother’s explanations for the divorce, but I could never fully comprehend the reasoning behind the whole matter. She’d say one thing to me then turn around and tell my older sister another. It wasn’t until many years later that I had come up with the conclusion that my mother was just confused and curious about other men. Since she had a Christian background she tried to cover it up with stories of harsh abuse. My mother had an affair which broke off the whole marriage. The strange thing about this though was that my father was the one asking for forgiveness. He wanted to change his ways so that he could keep his wife, so that she wouldn’t feel the need to be adulterous. However, his pleads couldn’t persuade my mother and she packed up and left. She left two kids and a husband in a house full of family memories. The rooms that were once filled with happiness were now filled with sadness.
After continuously arguing with my mother and her new husband, I moved in with my Father in Lakewood, Colorado. I didn’t have much of a life. I didn’t feel like I had much of a purpose. Maybe some of my father’s depression rubbed off on me. He held strong for a man in his place, but I could see his broken heart behind his eyes.
For about three years I lived in the computer. I was completely out of touch with reality. I barely moved from the desk except to occasionally use the bathroom and eat. There wasn’t much to eat anyway, nothing that excited my taste bubs. We had a few bags of popcorn and a bunch of sticky rice. Occasionally I would add a bit of pickled ginger to my rice, if I was feeling especially spunky that day. Sometimes I was just to distracted with the computer to eat at all. I had to many friends to pester and to keep up with. I was stuck in a dream world, and my life behind a monitor became addicting.
For one of fifteenth birthday presents I received the gift of karate classes. I was very excited, I finally could get out of the house and meet new people. Maybe loose a few pounds as well.
When I entered the karate class that was held in an old Baptist church; I wasn’t surprised to not see a room full of people. There were about ten students total, including my friend. She had the same name as me, Rachel. Her hair was blonde and she had a snappy attitude. She was the type of girl you’d expect to see on the side of the streets when she’s seventeen with a cigarette hanging from her dry bottom lip and a bottle of Jack hanging from her fingers. I’m still not sure why I befriended her. She wore her karate outfit especially tight so that the boys would notice. I found it very annoying.
Even though Rachel’s actions annoyed me I found myself doing similar things. I began to wear my clothes a little tighter and a started to wear make-up to class. I was attracted to any of the boys, but I still wanted them to notice me, notice that I was better than my skanky friend. At this karate class I met my soon to be husband. His name was Russell and he was the best in the class besides the teachers. I wasn’t attracted to him at first because he had a horrible attitude. He thought he was better than the rest of class, in fact I am pretty sure he thought that he was better than the rest of the universe.
Long story short we started to date within the year. I focused all my being on this boy. He was very kind to me at first, he brought me flowers and candy everyday that we went out. He brought me to movies and always kissed me on the cheek goodnight. I felt like I was crazy in love with him and that nothing could change that.
My father got married to a lady named Teresa when I was about sixteen. He had just recovered from quadruple by pass surgery. My worn out father slept through most of their marriage. He couldn’t leave his bed, so I was stuck with Teresa and her crazy daughter Maria.
I never thought that Cinderella was in anyway true. I found myself quickly turning into her. Teresa forbid me to speak with my boyfriend, Russell which just made me want to stay with him more. Teresa took away my computer as well. She didn’t allow me to leave the house unless I was going to school. I wasn’t allow to walk home with my friends either. I wasn’t allowed to cook, for I might possibly poison them. I wasn’t allowed to take more than one bath and shower a day. I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone on the phone. And many other things. Her crazy ways got worse and worse even to a point where she threw me in a dark bathroom and tried to call the police. She called them so that they would bring me to the mental hospital, because I had told my father that I was depressed and I didn’t want to live anymore. My father stopped her.
I’m not even completely sure what made her do all these things to me. I’d still try to think of a reason. Maybe it was my clothes, or my way of thinking, or maybe she was just crazy. Luckily my father was able to realize that she was crazy as well. We escaped from the witch’s house shortly after my father was more conscious. Sadly, my mother had already made plans to pick me up and bring me back to her house. She hadn’t before because she was in Africa caring for children with AIDS.
My father was left alone again and I was on my way to my mothers house, which was filled with more rules. At that time I didn’t realize that my mothers rules were actually for my own good.
I was free to speak with Russell again and we married in 2006. Which opened up a whole new chapter in my life.

I plan to write more about this subject in my next entry 🙂

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~ by airwen on August 30, 2009.

2 Responses to “Learning and Living Life”

  1. I know we haven’t talked much, and only know things about one another via other people, but this blog was really hard to read, and I feel like I know you a little more. It might not mean much, but I’m sorry for all that you’ve been through. At least you have a great boyfriend who will be there for you no matter what. Kendall and I used to be very good friends, and I would always feel better after talking to him. I’m sure his goofiness puts a smile on your face every day!

    Anyways, I hope that we can get to know each other sometime! 🙂

    • I didn’t even know that you had sent this message to me. I am so sorry that I didn’t see it earlier!
      I realized that I haven’t been posting on here very often, which I need to to much more!
      I would love to get to know you better Audra. Drop me a line anytime.

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