I was born into this world unwanted.  It was apparent that my birth mother never wanted me.  It was okay though, if I would have lived with her who knows where I would have ended up?  She was a hooker and a drug fiend.  My father could have been one of five men.  I was born addicted to cocaine and blind in my left eye.  I was a sick baby and my birth mother couldn’t handle it.  My nightly screaming became regular.  I just wanted to be loved.  I have always felt that God is the only one that had use for me.

I was nine weeks old when my adoptive parents took me into their home.  They were both in their mid forties.  I had a big sister who was eleven years older than me.  We grew up together.  She was amazing.  She taught me so many things.  I also had other brothers and sisters who were much older than me that lived elsewhere.  My birth mother had a son who is one year older than I.  We have different fathers… of course.

Though I was adopted, I still got to see my birth mother.  I constantly seen drug deals, her sleeping with different men, shooting up, taking hits, partying, and tons of abuse.  It was often that I seen my mom being beaten by different men.  There were always police officers at her house.  I remember one particular time when she threw my brother down the stairs.  I still remember the sound his body made as it THUMP THUMP THUMPED down each stair.  I was crying so hard I could hardly breathe.  I was scared to death that my mom would do that to me.  Now don’t get me wrong, my birth mother has a good heart, but drugs take over a person’s heart, mind, body and soul.  It took me a lot of growing up to do to realize that drugs change a person for the worse.  I’m sure she meant well.

At nine years old my big sister died in a car accident.  My sister was my best friend.  She took me to ballet practice and taught me how to blow bubbles with chewing gum.  She was the best sister a little girl could ever have.  I remember seeing the truck that she died it… it was about the size of a Geo Metro after it was all smooshed up.  My sister died on impact.  They had to remove the steering wheel that was encased in her chest.

My mom and dad changed.  They argued a lot.  Momma always called me by my sister’s name.  I felt like she wanted it to be me that died.  One day Momma was standing in the middle of the road and she fell to her knees and started weeping.  The ambulance came and took her away.  She had a nervous breakdown.  It was after that that her split personalities began coming out.  There was a really mean one that would dig her nails into the skin on my arm.  That one was always angry- it really scared me.  The other one was just like me.  She spoke really soft, her name was Angel.  She played dolls with me sometimes.

At ten years old my brother Christopher died in a motorcycle accident.  He was struck by a drunk driver in a big truck.  I don’t remember that as much as when my sister died.  I remember seeing him in the casket, it was really scary.

When Chris died we moved to Oregon.  My mom and dad couldn’t afford my school bills.  I attended Catholic school.  It was like being in a different world at public school.  I noticed that boys and girls could play together!  I wasn’t interested in the boys though… I really liked girls.  My best friend and I played house a lot.  It wasn’t like normal though- we were both the mommies.  We always kissed each other.  I had never seen girls kiss before.  I knew we weren’t supposed to, but I really liked it.

Death has been a curse that won’t seem to leave me alone.  By the age of 12 two siblings, three uncles, and two of my grandmothers passed away.  In junior high I met a guy who I really liked.  Quickly, I fell head over hills in love.  My grades also fell!  One time I got grounded because my grades were so bad.  That night was the first time I experimented with cutting.  It felt so good.  I was hypnotized by the blood trickling down.  It was like a beautiful morbid dance.  I gradually became obsessed with cutting.  I loved the immediate release of pain, hurt, and anger as soon as the razor blade tore through my milky skin.  As the blood would drip out it got easier and easier to breathe.  At twelve I also started being promiscuous.  It wasn’t with boys, with my best girl friends.  I was infatuated with lust.  At thirteen I gave my innocence to my boyfriend, my “one true love”.

At fourteen my boyfriend broke up with me for another girl.  I had given this guy everything, even my virginity.  I risked everything so that he would love me.  I just wanted to be loved by him.  Every night before bed I would pray that God wouldn’t let me wake up again.  One night I thought about slitting my wrists and lying in his driveway to bleed out.  After being so torn up about everything else and being caught up in the harsh world of self mutilation I attempted suicide.  At fourteen years old I decided to call it quits.  I took an entire bottle of 800 mg of pain killers and instead of water I gulped them down with gin.

I started going to church after my suicide attempt.  I had to.  I really didn’t want to.  It was some sort of tortuous punishment that my psychologist made me do that I soon became in love with.  The people were so nice and they accepted me the way I looked.  It was amazing to know that such happiness could be found in Christ.  Though I found Christ I couldn’t stop cutting.  Cutting is the only habit that I haven’t fully been able to break.

The summer of my sophomore year my grandfather died from his long and rugged struggle with Alzheimer’s disease.  He was an incredible man.

Junior year I abandoned Christ and started dating my ex once again.  Yep, the one that cheated on me and treated me like crap, also the one I attempted suicide over.  I was SO in love, excuse me while I vomit, I was SO naïve.  I gave up my faith, my light for a boy.  Soon, I would come to find out that I was just as stupid as when I was thirteen.  I found out by a good friend (that would soon become my main squeeze) that “the love of my life” was cheating on me AGAIN.  I was done this time.

The summer after my junior year my brother Terry died in surgery.  After my sissy died he and I became super close.  He was my favorite.  We were nearly inseparable.  It was really hard for him to miss my high school graduation.  It will be even harder when he misses my wedding this spring.  I was infuriated with God.  How could he take my big brother?  How could this happen again?  I’m just thankful that he wasn’t suffering anymore.

During my senior year my friend Tyler committed suicide.  I realized then that suicide is the single most selfish thing that a person could do.  It’s also the most cowardly way out.  I am so thankful to have a second chance at life.  After seeing so much death it’s apparent that life is so fragile and that we need to embrace it.  Life is a gift!

During senior year I fell in love with my best friend.  We played as children, grew up together, went through ups and downs, relationships and finally realized that we were the only one there for one another through it all!  We have been together for three years now.  Next May we will officially become husband and wife.  I have never been so in love.  It’s different.  My eyes are open and I’ve learned so much.  I know that this is forever.  It’s that kind of love.  I am incredibly blessed that God has given me Nick.

After I graduated high school I started attending college, wow.  I never imagined that I would have made it!  I had been getting tons of medical tests done for the past few years.  Finally, a specialist knew what was wrong with me!  I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS).  Long story short is that my hormones are all messed up.  There are tons of other medical issues associated with PCOS such a diabetes, heart disease, and infertility.  I also have a tumor on my right ovary.  I may not be able to enjoy the gift of being a mother.  I’ve always wanted a little baby to call my own.  If it’s in God’s plan it will happen.

The summer before my sophomore year in college my grandmother passed away.  It’s sad to say but I’ve quickly grown accustomed to funerals and death.  If there’s anyone out there reading my story that has gone through some of the struggles that I have- please know that tomorrow is a whole new day.  A new chance.  My advice to you is to stay strong and know that you are amazing.  With God’s love you can endure anything.  If he’s on your side you can climb mountains, swim oceans, and touch the sky.  You can do anything you set your heart to.  Follow your dreams and never let people cut you down.  YOU are worth it.  YOU are wonderful.  I just hope that my story helps someone else.

So here I am in my second year of college, I have a good family, and hopefully soon I will be making my own little family, wink wink.  I’m just twenty years old but have endured more than I could wish on my worst enemy.  I’ve been through loads of trials and have made too many mistakes to even count.  BUT- You know what?!  I wouldn’t change one thing that I’ve experienced or one mistake that I’ve ever made.  Life is about learning.  Take chances.  Love with all of your heart.  Laugh until you cry!  Cry until you laugh.  Never give up.  I truly have no regrets.  I have learned so much from just living life.  I have become a more knowledgeable, mature, and humble person than I ever would have if my life was peachy keen.  Dream as if you’re going to live forever- live as if you’ll die today.  Remember to be true to yourself and have a forgiving heart.  When the world knocks you on your knees remember that that’s the perfect chance to pray.  Some say that I have a good attitude and that I’m brave.  Of course that’s true because I do not give up.  I can and will not.  I’ve had to make myself strong.  There is no use dwelling on the past because there’s no going back- so live on!  The rest of your life is unwritten!  Cherish those who mean the most to you.  Tomorrow is never promised.