Rewriting My Life

A fun fact about me is that I have 11 siblings.

It's not necessarily uncommon to have that many. However, I didn't grow up Catholic, and we are decidedly out of the Baby Boomer era. Every time I bring that up in a conversation, people are surprised. Like jaw-to-the-floor surprised. I have to quickly explain that we all have different mothers and fathers. So while I do have an older sibling, I grew up the oldest out of six siblings. It's no wonder why I relate heavily to "Surface Pressure" from the movie Encanto.

On top of that, I was considered a gifted kid. Before my mother passed I was in a program that was tailored to kids like me, and when my father gained custody of me I always strived to keep that title. I made good grades. I was in the National Beta Club. I participated in my high school's scholar bowl team. And my two high school best friends were easily two of the smartest people in my whole class. I considered myself a smarty pants.

It was a major let down when, the first time I took the ACT, I found out that my best friends made a 30 and 32 and I didn't even make a good enough grade to get into our local community college. It broke me. I was ashamed to even say anything around them. When we got closer to graduation time, I was under the impression that I was going to be in the Top 10 of the class of 2017. I filled out the paper quickly and with more enthusiasm than a golden retriever I handed it back to the yearbook supervisor.

I didn't end up making the cut.

When I say I cried, I could have probably filled a kiddy pool. And I was particularly upset at the fact that a fellow classmate I never liked got into the Top 10 and I didn't. I was best friends with the Co-Saluditorian, for fuck's sake!

But that was okay. I ended up getting accepted to all of the colleges I applied to. And I had a plan of getting out of that rinky-dink small town I lived in and becoming part of the Supreme Court one day.

Life has a tricky way of redirecting you though. I managed to eke out one year of secondary learning from the aforementioned community college before I had to drop out of school altogther due to financial issues. I moved out of my step-mother's house to move in with and got married to the man she didn't approve of at age 20. I gave up on the path to getting on the Supreme Court for a number of reasons (two of which I didn't want to be in school eight plus years or in debt for the rest of my life) and b0unced around from job to job trying to find where I belonged.

In the midst of all this I started falling out of the Christian faith, not really believing that there was just one "un"conditionally loving deity when there were so many older religions and beliefs. Instead, I got really into the Law of Attraction, tarot, astrology and Human Design. These made much more sense to me than Christianity. I loved my friends and family who were in the queer community without guilt and became much more open-minded despite my conservative upbringing.

Depression hit me hard, though, when my husband and I brought a child into our lives.

Back in November of 2021, my older sibling asked us if we would adopt their daughter. They wanted to live their own life, wanting to pursue their goals that they've had for a while. The problem was, a child wasn't part of them. Carrying the fear of not being able to have any children of my own, and not wanting my niece to go into the state's care, I agreed. And my husband did too. We had a weekend to prepare for her, and while we looked up and down for an attorney to help us through the adoption process we were learning how to take care of a toddler whose needs were barely being met.

Right before this, I had taken out a loan to pay off a debt to the university I transferred to but ended up having to drop out of so that they would release my transcript. I wanted to go back to college, having been inspired to become a therapist. Unfortunately, I never heard back from the debt collectors and ended up having to use that money for other needs such as preparing for a child. I had to quit my job as a supervisor to accomodate such a life-changing event and find another one that would work around my schedule. We ended up having to take out another loan as well to pay for the fees that came with the adoption.

I was sad and angry for the longest time. I cried at work. Stressed about our bills. Our newfound daughter needed medical care that her biological parent had been neglecting. It was hard to get up in the mornings. Hard to go to sleep. I found little to no joy for the hobbies I have and couldn't find time to do them anyway if I had wanted to. My hair was always ratty. I was lashing out at everyone. My husband, my dogs, my daughter and sister. After a long weekend of terrible fighting with my husband, I saw in myself the people who raised me. Those that had gifted me the generational trauma and depression and anxiety their predecessors did. I knew that I didn't want for my child to be worried about saying the wrong thing to me or hearing for my footsteps.

I didn't know what the exact day was when I wanted to get out of this funk, but I knew that something had to give. Not only for the benefit for my family, but for myself. I can already feel that this journey is going to be long, and reprogramming my thoughts and feelings are going to be difficult. But I'm ready. And I can't wait to see what lies in store for me.