lenoirvrai
New member
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2012
- Messages
- 18
- MBTI Type
- INFP
- Enneagram
- 4w5
I thought it would be fun to post my blogs here, as well.
Born on April 13, 1982. Only child. Don’t remember much before the age of 5, except I loved when Mom would chase me through the house, the smell of pot meant that play-time was about to begin, my first dog peed everywhere, and I didn’t want to start kindergarten. School told my parents I should be transferred to a gifted school. Parents couldn’t afford it. School suggested advancing me a couple of grades. Parents refused, worried the other kids would mock me. School said they should toughen me up. I was “too sensitive.†Parents told them to shove their cold objectivity up their collective ass. Had fun in kindergarten. Met my first friend, Amanda. Everyone thought she had Down syndrome. She's just ugly. Mom started getting sick. Hated first grade. Pissed myself during 'The Pledge of Allegiance'. Didn’t know it was okay to excuse myself to use the bathroom during the pledge. Mom getting sicker. Had a kick-ass birthday at McDonald’s.
Second grade blew. Began realizing that I’m weird. Definitely not like the other kids and having a hard time relating to the world around me, both in and out of school. Don’t understand why people do the things they do. Won the spelling bee in third grade. Some dumb ass couldn’t spell ‘bridge.’ Was terrified of my fourth-grade teacher. She’d force me into a corner each day and ask me if I was afraid of her. She wouldn’t let me go until I admitted that I was. Parents tore her a new one. Mom began to get really sick; diagnosed with lupus and rheumatoid arthritis. I became the First Violist in the Indiana State Youth Orchestra when I was eight. Wasn’t upset that Mom couldn’t go see my recitals anymore. I understood she was sick and wanted to go. I felt sorry for her, not myself. Plus, Dad always went and that was enough. He always showed enough enthusiasm for the both of them. Quit the orchestra a year later. Music is too powerful for me and I can't handle the emotion. Hard enough dealing with the emotions of everyone else. I'm an empath. Loved playing games by myself. Didn’t really care for hanging out with friends. Began resenting having to do stuff for Mom, like getting her a fresh drink or making her something to eat. It was tiring, even though she would go without for long periods of time instead of asking me for anything. Poor thing. I wish she hadn’t of done that.
Developed a stuttering problem in 5th grade. Only stuttered at school and was ridiculed every single day. One day, we had a substitute teacher. He asked a hard question and I was the only one who knew the answer. I tried to get the word out, but I couldn’t. Some bitch said, “Oh, don’t call on Shaye. She stutters and we’ll be here forever.†The substitute actually said, “Oh, thanks for telling me! So, nobody knows the answer?†He then looked directly at me, “Nobody???†I am still hurt to this day. I’m not a nobody, but I still seem to think that I am at the age of 30.
Got the worst haircut of my life in 7th grade. Looked like a pimply mushroom. Was worse since I was in my ‘plaid phase.’ Made fun of daily. Told I was ugly. School thought I was a lesbian. Mom now incredibly ill and I spent most of my time caring for her. Dad was abusing prescription medication, but I didn’t realize it. He was generally fun to be around, but something was wrong. My intuition was telling me something was wrong. Became best-friends with Samantha. Started high school. Made fun of by my peers. Told I was the ugliest girl in the world. One douche said it looked like I got hit in the face with an iron. Couldn't look at myself in the mirror for half a year. Still hear his words in my head. I feel ugly. Got many offers to be a model. Got suspended because I was “too pretty and causing the boys to make a ruckus.†Didn’t do shit to the boys. I ignored the boys. They told me I was ugly. Too weird. Too… intimidating. Fucking freak. Mom still getting worse. Dad now abusing alcohol and becoming verbally abusive. Chasing me throughout the house when I would talk back. He couldn’t handle working 3 jobs and taking care of mom, being disabled himself. Poor guy. Started smoking cigs (and weed occasionally) and skipping school. Got my first job at a gas station. It was my own idea. Helped with rent and got myself some nice clothes. Joined the Civic Theater in my town at age 16 and did a play during my summer break. Graduated high school in 2000.
Decided I wanted to change the world and joined the Army. I was a naive little thing, I am an INFP after all, seeing the best in everyone and everything. Mom freaking out, Dad freaking out, both supporting me in my decision. Had a friend die in my arms during training. She slit her wrist. I disagreed with military procedures. Decided to tell my commanding officer to let me out or I’d kill everyone and then myself. Threats work. I was discharged two months later. Fucked up after that. Started cutting and burning myself. Slamming my head into the walls. Didn’t care. Moved to Florida with my parents. Hurricane Charlie killed one house by flooding it. Hurricane Frances killed everything we owned in storage. Hurricane Jeanne was just kinda boring. Mom now sicker than ever. Dad drinking so much that he was passed out every day. Living with Grandma since our house was gone and she broke her hip and needed help anyway. Worked 12-hour shifts picking grapefruit and shipping them, coming home and making dinner/cleaning and then taking care of Grandma, Mom and Dad. Had diarrhea (IBS) every day for 2 years due to the stress. Moved out of Grandma’s house in 2006 into a rat-infested piece of shit with Mom and Dad. Anything was better than Grandma’s. Both parents worse off. Now working as a medical transcriptionist. Horrible job. Miserable. Moved to a nice house in 2007 on a big lake. Mom and Dad even worse. Dad now very verbally, mentally and psychologically abusive. Began to fall into debt by paying for absolutely everything. He drank the rent money. He doesn’t remember any of that to this day. Says he was always having to care for me. It was the other way around. I've taken care of myself since I was eight. Rarely got to see Dad at his normal, fantastic self. Still getting a few model offers now and then. Still don’t see myself as pretty as people say I am. Yeah, right.
Moved back to Indiana in 2008. Mom and Dad even worse. Still doing transcription. Miserable, but tried to make the best of everything. Reunited with Samantha. Made friends with Lindsey, who is now my life companion. Unable to do transcription due to shitty country internet connection. No car. Too far from town to walk. Jobless and very unhappy. I hate not being employed. I need a purpose. Dad was arrested July 4th for drunk driving. Got out and has since been sober. Back to his awesome self. Moved to Madison with Lindsey. Her boyfriend moved in, too. He was a turd. Couldn’t get my meds down there. Withdrew from them. Had a nervous breakdown. Moved back in with Dad in March 2010. Mom passed away April 2010. At least I was there holding her hand. Never got to say goodbye. It was so sudden. Dad and I moved to Greenfield with his friend, Karen. Got a job at Goodwill. Diagnosed with IBS, fibromyalgia and CFS, crushed tailbone for the past 16 years (happened when I was 14), bipolar, anxiety, osteoarthritis, ADD, allergies… think I’m missing a few things. Got a laundry list. Had a recent nervous breakdown, again. Got out out of psychiatric hospital. Feeling better. Things moving in a positive direction.
Lost job at Goodwill for ringing up a sweater as a sweatshirt. It was sweatshirt material. Fuck it. Dad drinking again. Can't handle it. Won't handle it. I'm done. I need to start taking care of myself. I am not responsible for the happiness and safety of my loved ones. I am only responsible for myself. My heart is breaking. I'd rather sacrifice my happiness/health for theirs... but no more. No more.
And here I am now.
Born on April 13, 1982. Only child. Don’t remember much before the age of 5, except I loved when Mom would chase me through the house, the smell of pot meant that play-time was about to begin, my first dog peed everywhere, and I didn’t want to start kindergarten. School told my parents I should be transferred to a gifted school. Parents couldn’t afford it. School suggested advancing me a couple of grades. Parents refused, worried the other kids would mock me. School said they should toughen me up. I was “too sensitive.†Parents told them to shove their cold objectivity up their collective ass. Had fun in kindergarten. Met my first friend, Amanda. Everyone thought she had Down syndrome. She's just ugly. Mom started getting sick. Hated first grade. Pissed myself during 'The Pledge of Allegiance'. Didn’t know it was okay to excuse myself to use the bathroom during the pledge. Mom getting sicker. Had a kick-ass birthday at McDonald’s.
Second grade blew. Began realizing that I’m weird. Definitely not like the other kids and having a hard time relating to the world around me, both in and out of school. Don’t understand why people do the things they do. Won the spelling bee in third grade. Some dumb ass couldn’t spell ‘bridge.’ Was terrified of my fourth-grade teacher. She’d force me into a corner each day and ask me if I was afraid of her. She wouldn’t let me go until I admitted that I was. Parents tore her a new one. Mom began to get really sick; diagnosed with lupus and rheumatoid arthritis. I became the First Violist in the Indiana State Youth Orchestra when I was eight. Wasn’t upset that Mom couldn’t go see my recitals anymore. I understood she was sick and wanted to go. I felt sorry for her, not myself. Plus, Dad always went and that was enough. He always showed enough enthusiasm for the both of them. Quit the orchestra a year later. Music is too powerful for me and I can't handle the emotion. Hard enough dealing with the emotions of everyone else. I'm an empath. Loved playing games by myself. Didn’t really care for hanging out with friends. Began resenting having to do stuff for Mom, like getting her a fresh drink or making her something to eat. It was tiring, even though she would go without for long periods of time instead of asking me for anything. Poor thing. I wish she hadn’t of done that.
Developed a stuttering problem in 5th grade. Only stuttered at school and was ridiculed every single day. One day, we had a substitute teacher. He asked a hard question and I was the only one who knew the answer. I tried to get the word out, but I couldn’t. Some bitch said, “Oh, don’t call on Shaye. She stutters and we’ll be here forever.†The substitute actually said, “Oh, thanks for telling me! So, nobody knows the answer?†He then looked directly at me, “Nobody???†I am still hurt to this day. I’m not a nobody, but I still seem to think that I am at the age of 30.
Got the worst haircut of my life in 7th grade. Looked like a pimply mushroom. Was worse since I was in my ‘plaid phase.’ Made fun of daily. Told I was ugly. School thought I was a lesbian. Mom now incredibly ill and I spent most of my time caring for her. Dad was abusing prescription medication, but I didn’t realize it. He was generally fun to be around, but something was wrong. My intuition was telling me something was wrong. Became best-friends with Samantha. Started high school. Made fun of by my peers. Told I was the ugliest girl in the world. One douche said it looked like I got hit in the face with an iron. Couldn't look at myself in the mirror for half a year. Still hear his words in my head. I feel ugly. Got many offers to be a model. Got suspended because I was “too pretty and causing the boys to make a ruckus.†Didn’t do shit to the boys. I ignored the boys. They told me I was ugly. Too weird. Too… intimidating. Fucking freak. Mom still getting worse. Dad now abusing alcohol and becoming verbally abusive. Chasing me throughout the house when I would talk back. He couldn’t handle working 3 jobs and taking care of mom, being disabled himself. Poor guy. Started smoking cigs (and weed occasionally) and skipping school. Got my first job at a gas station. It was my own idea. Helped with rent and got myself some nice clothes. Joined the Civic Theater in my town at age 16 and did a play during my summer break. Graduated high school in 2000.
Decided I wanted to change the world and joined the Army. I was a naive little thing, I am an INFP after all, seeing the best in everyone and everything. Mom freaking out, Dad freaking out, both supporting me in my decision. Had a friend die in my arms during training. She slit her wrist. I disagreed with military procedures. Decided to tell my commanding officer to let me out or I’d kill everyone and then myself. Threats work. I was discharged two months later. Fucked up after that. Started cutting and burning myself. Slamming my head into the walls. Didn’t care. Moved to Florida with my parents. Hurricane Charlie killed one house by flooding it. Hurricane Frances killed everything we owned in storage. Hurricane Jeanne was just kinda boring. Mom now sicker than ever. Dad drinking so much that he was passed out every day. Living with Grandma since our house was gone and she broke her hip and needed help anyway. Worked 12-hour shifts picking grapefruit and shipping them, coming home and making dinner/cleaning and then taking care of Grandma, Mom and Dad. Had diarrhea (IBS) every day for 2 years due to the stress. Moved out of Grandma’s house in 2006 into a rat-infested piece of shit with Mom and Dad. Anything was better than Grandma’s. Both parents worse off. Now working as a medical transcriptionist. Horrible job. Miserable. Moved to a nice house in 2007 on a big lake. Mom and Dad even worse. Dad now very verbally, mentally and psychologically abusive. Began to fall into debt by paying for absolutely everything. He drank the rent money. He doesn’t remember any of that to this day. Says he was always having to care for me. It was the other way around. I've taken care of myself since I was eight. Rarely got to see Dad at his normal, fantastic self. Still getting a few model offers now and then. Still don’t see myself as pretty as people say I am. Yeah, right.
Moved back to Indiana in 2008. Mom and Dad even worse. Still doing transcription. Miserable, but tried to make the best of everything. Reunited with Samantha. Made friends with Lindsey, who is now my life companion. Unable to do transcription due to shitty country internet connection. No car. Too far from town to walk. Jobless and very unhappy. I hate not being employed. I need a purpose. Dad was arrested July 4th for drunk driving. Got out and has since been sober. Back to his awesome self. Moved to Madison with Lindsey. Her boyfriend moved in, too. He was a turd. Couldn’t get my meds down there. Withdrew from them. Had a nervous breakdown. Moved back in with Dad in March 2010. Mom passed away April 2010. At least I was there holding her hand. Never got to say goodbye. It was so sudden. Dad and I moved to Greenfield with his friend, Karen. Got a job at Goodwill. Diagnosed with IBS, fibromyalgia and CFS, crushed tailbone for the past 16 years (happened when I was 14), bipolar, anxiety, osteoarthritis, ADD, allergies… think I’m missing a few things. Got a laundry list. Had a recent nervous breakdown, again. Got out out of psychiatric hospital. Feeling better. Things moving in a positive direction.
Lost job at Goodwill for ringing up a sweater as a sweatshirt. It was sweatshirt material. Fuck it. Dad drinking again. Can't handle it. Won't handle it. I'm done. I need to start taking care of myself. I am not responsible for the happiness and safety of my loved ones. I am only responsible for myself. My heart is breaking. I'd rather sacrifice my happiness/health for theirs... but no more. No more.
And here I am now.
