Graduation Nightmare

For many years, I've tried to write a book. My life has been a series of disasters from the beginning and I have a hard time talking about it, because it seems like fiction or something. I could never make up any of this stuff but I admit it is all quite odd. Also, I can never figure out where to begin. The beginning started before I was born, and there were a lot of things I didn't know until two years ago. So, I'll start in the middle.

I graduated from high school in 1997, in West Virginia. I had been living with my Uncle and Aunt and their 3 children for all 4 years of high school. I wouldn't say it had been pleasant, but I thought it was my best option. My birth mother was killed by her husband (who is technically my father). Her parents, who I called "Mama" and "Daddy", adopted me and I was raised by them until at the end of middle school I asked to transfer. I told everyone it was because of the bullying and fighting, but it was because of the physical and phycological abuse. I'm not going to go into detail about that yet, but it was happening on a daily basis.

I was only 17 at my graduation, I expected that I wasn't going to be allowed to have fun, but I thought I was about to finally be able to make decisions for myself, and i could finally be who i really was, or at least find out who I really was. My family was very strictly religious and most of them were heavily involved in ministry. I HAD to be at church almost every day and was instructed to "be an example for Jesus". I'm still not exactly sure what the logic of pushing that onto a child is, but I was under constant scrutiny and was disciplined if I did the least little thing. A lot of times I didn't do anything, I was not allowed to defend myself. Anyone could start a rumor about me and no one would defend me, except sometimes Mama.

I was always pretty well known in school, but I wouldn't say I was popular. I was never really allowed to hang out with any kids who weren't from church and there were limits on that too, but I thought i had a lot of friends. I had alot of people that hung around with me, and travelled to church functions with us. I had other friends but I only saw them at school because I was never allowed to go to dances or parties. Since this was before the internet or cell phones were common, I lost touch with the friends I grew up with.

So my high School friends were more like acquaintances, except for two. I usually had a boyfriend but they were usually out of the picture pretty quick because I was a virgin. I had the same boyfriend from the end of 9th grade until the end of 11th grade, but only at school because of racism. My senior year I had been dating a guy from another state, that was in our religious organization. His family LOVED my family, but I didn't realize that was a factor until later. I'll call him Stanley. A couple of weeks before my graduation, Stanley called me then called his mother on 3-way. His mother told me that she was upset that he had been talking about marrying me and that she didn't want him to get married, so we had to break up. Then she hung up and he asked me if I understood. I told him I understood that he was not a good person, nor was he a man and I asked him not to contact me or come to my graduation. He yelled at me and I hung up. That did not matter to anyone but me. He told his family, they started calling my family saying how disappointed they were, and my family went along with that. Not only did he come, he brought his mother, two uncles, one aunt, his brother, and two of his cousins. I had to wait on everyone including them the whole weekend. That was a sign to me that I did not have a protector.

A few days before graduation I was starting to get excited. I thought I was going to inherit my birth mother's estate and I would be free and be able to take care of myself. That's when two different family members started sitting me down and saying "You don't have any money. Well, not much money, because you know we have been raising you. It's expensive and you should really just be grateful that you weren't in foster care." I knew that it was lies right away because I knew that they got a big check for me every month and split it up and gave me $80 a month. If that money was gone, it was because it was taken.

The day before graduation i was woken up at the crack of dawn and told "All these people are coming for YOUR graduation so you have to clean the whole house and you'll be expected to serve everyone." I was furious but I just swallowed it and started cleaning. I couldn't even cry because if anyone had seen me I would have been in trouble. The whole weekend was that way and I had to pretend I was fine. At some point I just went blank. I know now that I was overwhelmed and I think that was the first time I dissociated. I barely remember anything about it except that I was so angry and so sad and no one noticed or cared. I guess i was still talking and walking around but I don't even know how much time passed. I think maybe a day.

These are people who are church people. I couldn't figure out why God wasn't helping me. So I felt that even God did not care about me and I started thinking about how I could leave and disappear. I was only 17 so I didn't have many options, but I thought that maybe after the ceremony I might get enough money to get on a bus and go to a big city. If I didn't tell anyone how old I was I could maybe get into a shelter and find a job. So I felt a little better.

The ceremony was long and boring, but it was fun to be around my classmates one last time and crack jokes. We weren't paying attention to the ceremony at all until they started calling our names. It was 1997, you could ask your teacher to light your cigarette back then we didn't care about any speeches. I came out to greet my family and instead of congratulations my youngest uncle told me to take off my cap and gown and put it on my friend so they could take her picture because she didn't get to participate. I blanked out again.

I think we went to dinner. The next thing I remember I was asking where my money gifts were and there was some flimsy excuse. So I was going to ask Daddy to give me the whole check he got for me this month as a gift. I thought it was probably $500. When I came in the room the family was so busy entertaining each other, they didn't notice me walk up behind him. It happens that when I did, he had my check out, along with his checkbook that had checks with my name. The check was for $2800, and he was writing my uncle and aunt a check for $1600. I ran to the bathroom and cried. I still asked him for $500, but he told me he didn't have it.

This was possibly the moment that defined the rest of my life. the moment I knew that i really didn't mean anything to anyone. I hoped I was wrong. I wanted to be wrong so badly. So badly that i continued to subject myself to that kind of treatment by them for the next two decades. I convinced myself that they weren't hurting me on purpose or that it was my fault because I just wasn't good enough. This is part of a series of life lessons and cautionary tales I have to offer. It's very painful to think about these things, but I think about them whether I write about it or not. If anything I write helps one person who has some kind of deep pain, feel less alone or more empowered it will be worth it to me.

Love yourself. Never give up. Be your own hero.