Posted by jodie on February 18, 2003, at 3:32:49
This is going to be long, so if you get bored reading long posts, you should just stop reading this now!!! Just a friendly warning.
I was 4 years old, my mom 22. She was 18 when she had me. We would always do really neat things. When my dad was layed off from his job, she could always find something to do. Money didn't matter. We would go outside and look for 4 leaf clovers, or get out all of our "crafts" and make something. We grew an herb garden. We would go out & catch lightning bugs in a jar (great night light). My mom always read me stories at night, and tucked me in. She would kiss me goodnight, and tell me she loved me, so did my dad.
Eventually, for some reason, my parents quit telling my they loved me, I was around 9 or 10 maybe. There were never hugs or kisses. I still don't understand the reason behind this. My parents, especially my mom acts like affection is a bad thing.One day, I was about 12 or 13, I came across a baby book. I opened it, saw the name "Stacey". Thought it was strange, that wasn't my name, that was my moms youngest sisters name. Why would my parents have that. Why didn't my grandparents (Stacey's parents) have it. I put it away, because my mom came inside. I would wait to explore it when my mom was outside in the garden or something. When I got it back out, I couldn't find much on Stacey. She was just on the first couple of pages. There was a little bit of baby hair taped on the page, her name band from the hospital, just little things like that. The rest of the pages were of me. Weird, why did my "aunt" Stacey and I share the same baby book? Then in the back, I found a piece of paper. A legal document. A document stating that my dad had officially adopted me, and now I had his last name. I sat there in shock. He wasn't my real father!!! I was a young teen, and they still hadn't told me. I didn't say anything. I wanted to see how long it would take them to tell me. I started to become one angry girl. I still didn't understand the aunt Stacey thing.
I started to get an attitude, grades went downhill fast. I started sneaking out at night. I started shoplifting. I couldn't stop. I started to lie, even when there wasn't a reason to. I didn't understand it. It got to the point where my life was a huge lie. I lied so much, I had to start taking notes to remember what lie I told to who. Why did I do this? I didn't understand. I lied to friends, making up stuff, to make them like me even more. People started catching on. I lost most of my friends. I started getting into fights with other girls. Next thing I know, I was getting suspended from school. I yelled and called my parents and teachers bad names. I would get into an argument with my mom, run upstairs, slam my door and start throwing and breaking things. This happened often. I told my parents that I hated them, my mom would say she hated me right back. Usually my dad just ignored me, watching TV or smoking his cigarrettes.
I finally did it, I told my parents I knew the truth, I was adopted. My parents giggled. They asked where I had heard such a thing. I told them about the paper. My parents did not get married until I was a year old. My mom named me after her last name when she had me. In order to get my last name changed when they got married, they had to file a request at the courthouse. They got that piece of paper. I wasn't adopted, it just appeared that way since I didn't get my dads last name when I was born. I felt so dumb. I had actually thought he was not my real father. Wasn't sure if mom was my real mom or not. Turns out, they are. I found this out when I was about 14 or 15. So I went almost 2 years thinking I was adopted.
I came home from school one day. My dads truck was in the driveway, odd because he was never home before me. I went inside. My mom was crying, and I could tell she had been for quite some time. She said "Jodie there is something we need to tell you, you have to promise you won't hate me". I didn't know what to say. I sat down on the chair. My mom was trying to tell me something, but couldn't get it out. She ran to their bedroom and closed the door. I looked at my dad & asked "what is going on?" He said "what your mom was trying to tell you is that you have a sister". I wasn't even thinking of the Stacey thing. I was just in shock. My dad told me I knew her very well, and I saw her a lot. He finally told me it was Stacey. But how could that be? Stacey was a year older than me, and my mom was so young when she had me. Turns out, before my mom and dad started dating, my mom got pregnant from some guy when she was 16, had Stacey when she was 17. My grandparents had convinced my mom to sign over custody rights. They adopted her. Stacey found out the same day that I did.
Why didn't they just tell us the truth in the beginning? I had a sister, and never knew it. Stacey refused to talk to my mom, or me. Still does to this day. I am almost 27 (in two weeks), she is 28. I hate not being able to do the things that sisters do together. I was angry at my mom for keeping it from me, but there were reasons. I finally forgave her (ok, sometimes when I think about it, I get angry at her). We don't mention Stacey. It's like she doesn't exist. From what I hear, Stacey is the same. She doesn't mention us, doesn't want to.
Anyway, when I was 16, I met a boy, who I thought I loved. We dated for 2 years. He ended up joining the army right out of high school, after I graduated, I went with him. I was 18, we married in a little chapel in Georgia (Ft. Gordon). I got pregnant while taking the pill. It was unexpected. I ended up just like my mom, getting pregnant at 18. But, I was excited. I always loved babies. I had to make the best out of the situation. We had our son in January of 1995, at Ft. Hood Texas. About a week after I had him, my right leg started hurting. I ended up going to the ER. I had a blood clot in my upper leg. They believe it was from the 3 month birth control shot that I had taken after my son was born. It's rare, but can cause blood clots. I ended up in the hospital for a few weeks on blood thinners. I had to take a blood thinner for about a year afterwards.
I also had a grand mal seizure the very next day after having my son. I started having several seizures. I was diagnosed with temporal lobe epilepsy. Dilantin was the medication I was put on. It made me a zombie. I moved back home with my parents, so my mom could help me with the baby. The father was always away for months at a time, so he couldn't help much. But, he finally got out of the army, and moved back. We got our own place. I was doing better. I finally took myself off the Dilantin, I could not stand the stuff. I was seizure free. Things started to look up. I didn't need help taking care of my son, at least not from my mom.After a couple of years (my son was about 3) I started suspecting my husband was cheating on me. There were obvious signs. He was a good liar though, I always fell for it. I was just in denial. Finally it got to be too much. He was actually taking our son over to his girlfriends house while I was at work. By this time my son was 4. My husband and I separated. My son and I moved back in with my parents. I spent whatever time I had with my son, when I wasn't working. It was hard sometimes because I stared having severe depression, and having strange feelings that I had never had. Impulses, mood swings, tantrums. I cried all of the time. I worked 2nd shift, so I didn't get off work until 11 pm. By that time, my mom had my son in bed. I started going out. My parents live in a college town, there are all kinds of nightclubs, and people my age. I would go out with a group of friends from work, we would go to the college bars. Every night, I started staying out later, and drinking more. I even experimented with a couple of drugs (cocaine, ecstacy). I would come home before my son woke up, and before my mom had to leave for work. I started coming home still drunk. I just wanted to sleep. My son would wake up around 8, then I had to play the mom role. Make breakfast, spend quality time with him. I remember being so tired though, from having little or no sleep the night before. Then back to work at 3:30 pm. It would all start over again. Get off work & go out. I didn't know then, but I think it was my way of dealing with the depression, from the separation. I was also having manic episodes, but didn't know much about depression, or bipolar disorder. I didn't know much about any type of mental illness at the time. I didn't seek help, because I didn't think i needed it. I drank almost everynight & partied for about 6 months straight.
We finalized our divorce. We had to deal with the custody issue. Who would our son live with?
..........well, I'm really stressed right now....to be continued.
Jodie.
poster:jodie
thread:201379
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20030215/msgs/201379.html