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why-do-i-like-the-bad-guys · 6 years ago

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What were you doing in 4th grade?

I’ll tell you what I was doing. I was trying to make sense of why my brother would break into 2 of my neighbors houses and steal stuff. One of those neighbors had a girl in my grade that went to the same school as me. And the other neighbors were like a second family to me. But that all changed. They didn’t want to see us anymore. The whole neighborhood knew.

This is how I found out about it: I came home from school and ran into our living room to tell my mom that I was going to play with the neighbors. My mom stopped me and sat me down. She told me that they didn’t want to see us anymore because my brother had broken into their house and stole stuff. My brother was in 7th grade at the time. My brother had a court hearing while I was in school a few weeks later. Every time I saw the other neighborhood girl at school it just reminded me what my life had become.

We were basically shunned by a big chunk of the neighborhood. Imagine that your in fourth grade and feel constantly judged wherever you go. My mom ran into family members of the neighbors at the stores and she would feel ashamed. I remember many times I caught my mom crying in the kitchen when one particular song came on the radio. She didn’t even try to hide it. One day I came home from school and saw a flash of my brother running upstairs in my mom’s bathing suit. I didn’t know what to do. I ran outside and went across the street because I knew he wasn’t allowed to go over there.

I sat on the curb crying as my brother tried to get me to go back home. Eventually I did. When my parents came home I told them what happened. I remember i smirked as I heard him getting yelled at. You know how it goes with siblings. I didn’t understand why my brother would do something like that and I still don’t. My mom started locking her bedroom door every time they left us home alone. I remember one time they told me to keep an eye on my brother. Basically babysit him. Also I lost another best friend of mine in 4th grade she switched schools and we never really talked again.

I had to deal with what was happening on my own because my parents never talked about it around me. When I would ask a question they would get angry. So I learned to stop asking questions and not tell anyone what happened. As a 4th grader I had to deal with the fact that my brother was in legal trouble and because of that my best friends didn’t want to see me anymore. And you would think that my turmoil would be over by middle school but it wasn’t.

My nighbor’s aunt was a teacher at my middle school. She knew about what went down. But thankfully she was very kind to me. I was still afraid to ask questions about what happened. But she assured me that my neighbors missed me and they wished that circumstances were different. I also made a friend in middle school and she ended up leaving the state. My grandpa (dad’s dad) accidentally ran over my grandma with a four wheeler. (She lived she just needed a back brace for a while.) then he started having back problems so he wore a back brace too.

He is an active guy so he was working in his garage when he caught fire. He ended up having 3rd and 4th degree burns on 20% of his body. Destroying the nerves. The doctors were amazed that he recovered so quickly and nicely.

This situation followed me all through high school as well. But I think I was the only who was actually still dealing with it. My parents had seemed to move on so did my brother. But I couldn’t. Because there was constant reminders in my mind. I still carried the shame and guilt. It also didn’t help that freshman year was the beginning of a whole new situation that would last a whole 5 years. My oma (moms mom) fell and had an open head injury. Let’s just say that my Oma picked on me constantly growing up. I was the only grandchild that she picked on.

It wasn’t in a loving way either. She was down right mean. Telling me I dress nicer. Behaved better. Yada yada. It got so bad at points that my mom and her would get into big arguments that ended with my mom and I leaving their house in tears.

Anyway this woman required constant care and my aunt refused to put her in a nursing home because she is a complete control freak! My mom had to go there everyday to help out. Every year it was always something new with my oma. She broke a lot of bones, had pneumonia, etc. Like seriously this woman wouldn’t die!

This meant I was home alone in the summertime before freshman year. In the same neighborhood. Thankfully God blessed me with my dog. So I didn’t feel so alone. In the middle school years I had made some new friends. But I always stopped hanging out with them. I dumped the friendship cold turkey. No warnings. No nothing...

So my mom would come home exhausted. When freshman year started she was part of the elementary school committee. The elementary school was right next to the high school. So my mom would bring me to school around 7 O’clock because her meetings started soon after. I was one of the first people in school everyday. I didn’t mind. There was a history teacher that would open up the art room for me. Sophomore year luckily one semester I had the same history teacher for first period so I would just sit in the classroom and doodle.

Junior year we got a new building. And I got my car. Now things between my mom and I weren’t good. We would get into arguments in the morning. So I started going to school early again. Also I moved in my junior year. We built a new house and it felt like it was going to be a fresh start. It was but the new neighbors didn’t like that we cut down some trees. They said that they liked their privacy. Well sorry but we don’t want trees falling on our house.

My mom was still taking care of my Oma while my aunt went to work. My mom was retired from teaching. School became my safe haven. I talked with a few of the teachers in the mornings. I considered my art teacher like a friend. I had friends my age like... 5ish but only 2 of them I actually got along with. And today I only talk to 1.

Senior year I decided I wanted to be a social worker. That didn’t pan out. I thought that once I started college that my home situation wouldn’t follow me there but it did. I had way too much on my plate and I was stressed. I became extremely suicidal. It got to the point where I would wake up in the morning and the first thing that popped into my head was to overdose. I started slacking on my classes. I stayed in my dorm room all day except when I was in class. I barely talked to anyone.

After school ended my therapist said that I should go into a temporary counseling group. So that’s what i did. It didn’t really help that much... I started working at the job I have now. I worked here in the summers as well. One summer I was extremely depressed and it took everything in me not to stop on the train tracks on the way to work everyday. Just when I was about to give up my boss put me in a different part of work because they needed a replacement for the week for the guy who was on vacation. The guy on vacation name was Marcos. And the guy who worked with him was John.

I started working over there more often and it really helped. The guys taught me how to relax with my job and worry so much. We talked about the hardships of life. John lost 3 loved ones on 911. And Marcos always has a smile on his face. I remember I started doodling on scrap paper and they loved them. I drew Marcos once and he was so happy! He was like: “John! John! Look! She drew me!” In his Hispanic accent. Marcos gave me snacks and pop even when I said that he didn’t have to do that for me.

Well, last year on July 25 I was working in a different area for a few months. (I hadn’t really talked to Marcos and John that much because I didn’t want to get in trouble with my boss.) John came up to me and asked me if I had heard about what happened to Marcos. I said I had no clue. He responded saying that Marcos committed suicide in June on the 25th. I thought he was joking because he has a dark sense of humor. So I said, that’s not funny John. He was being completely sincere... he gave me the paper with the obituary details on it.

Marcos’ step daughter accused him of molesting her when she was between the ages of 4-8. That was a lie. She did it because he told her that he couldn’t afford to buy a car for her. So she went to the police and told that lie. The truth is that he didn’t even know her until she was 11! His arrest warrant was sent out and 3 days later Marcos went home and killed himself...

I can honestly say that if it wasn’t for Marcos and John, i wouldn’t be here today. They saved my life. And knowing that I didn’t notice that Marcos was gone for a month kills me. I had no clue what was going on during that time. After I heard the news about Marcos i shut people out. I had a new coworker who was trying to get to know me and i would just shut her out for the longest time. She said that she had to keep pushing to get to the brick wall i had put up. I couldn’t handle anymore loss. I finally let her in and we became good friends. About 6 months later she stopped showing up to work. I texted her asking what was going on. She said she had quit her job because she couldn’t work third shift anymore. She said that everyday she got to work and she would start crying. Now she is a mom as well so that’s stressful enough as is.

I started training someone new for three days. We got close and talked about a lot of different things. She missed a day of work. I asked what happened and she said that her mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was inoperable. The doctors gave her a few months to live. She stopped coming to work after a few days and didn’t come back.

Now I’m 21, have no clue what I want to do with my life. I want to move to Hawaii and live in a van. Like I’m being serious! It is the only thing I think about my future and don’t want to kill myself. I tried finding careers that I would want to do but that got me nowhere. So I started thinking about if I could move anywhere in the world where would I move?

By the way I’m adopted from Russia when I was 3.5 years old. The first 18months of my life I was severely neglected to the point where I was too weak to even sit up. I also had a sister who was adopted by her dad. (We have different dad’s same moms) she will be 24 in September 23. I don’t know if she is alive or not. So from the get go I had abandonment issues. My birth mom and her mom are/were (don’t know if they are alive either) alcoholics.

I’m not saying that people didn’t have it worse than me because of course some do. But the victims of a crime aren’t just the people who were robbed... the family of the robber are victims too. Feel free to share your stories!

#messedup #effedup #fuckedup #my childhood #victims #what were you doing in fourth grade

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