In The Abstract

I-Search Background - EDIT

I don't really know where I could start on a background for this topic. The only place I can think of is the beginning- not where my questions began, and not where I started to change, but really where my life began, and how it led to the person I am today. I did not have a stable childhood. Not having a sufficient income most of the time drove my mother to do some desperate things in order to provide for my sisters and I. There were times where the only thing we had in our food cabinet were boxes of generic mac n' cheese and a couple cans of tuna. My mother worked constantly, three or four jobs at a time, and so most of my 'growing-up' involved babysitters and kind relatives. With the low income came the lack of stability as a whole. We never stayed in one place for too long. We were always moving, state to state, school to school, from one town to the next. People ask me where I grew up, and I can't answer them. I can only say one depressing word, and that is "nowhere".

I've never had a father. I've never met him, and I never will; He is no longer alive. I know his name, Patrick, but I don't know anything else other than that he was the love of my mother's life... when she was 15. He died when I was seven years old of a heroin overdose, never knowing of my existance. I was not raised by any fatherly figure. I've never known what it's like to have a dad.

Since before I can remember, my mother jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend, never finding anyone who fit her lifestyle. I barely knew any of them, I was too young. When I was eleven years old, she met the one man that would change my life forever, and not for the good, either. His name was John. That's all I knew. He moved in at some point, I don't even remember, but I remember what it was like after my little brother, his son, died. The real John came out then, and shoved his brutal self into my world in a way that he could never be pushed out. He was an alcoholic, verbally abusive, and a violently angry man. I don't know how many telephones he broke. I just remember countless trips to the store to buy a new one the day after he had ripped it from the wall... again. I think his behavior had a big influence on how I grew up... or rather, how I progressed.

In school I was never the popular kid, I was poor and did not sport any stylish clothing whatsoever. I had the goodwill grabbag in my closet, and thoughtful donations from family friends and relatives. Occasionally the wal-mart special grabbed a spot or two, but even that wasn't good enough. I ate lunch for free, and I was the kid who didn't have anything to munch on during snack time. We couldn't afford it. I sat by myself most of the time, but made a few friends, who in the end turned out to be not worth the energy. Then, the time came when we finally stayed somewhere, for more than 2 years. We had claimed our residence in the town of Walpole, Massachusetts, and there I was in the same school for 5 years. I made some friends after about 3 years, and felt quite comfortable with my life. I had 3 years of high school left, normal clothes to wear, and friends. I had a social life. I'd never felt so happy.

As you can expect, that did not last very long. When I was 16, that life was wrenched from my fingertips once again, and I moved here, to Maine. For several reasons, I became very hermit-like. I arrogantly secluded myself from everyone and everything, never feeling any hope or optimism that anything could be good again. I did not go out on weekends or after school, I baby-sat most of the time. All summer, save for one, I watched my little sister, so my mother could work. All I remember is the animosity building and building until one day, I gave up. I woke up one morning and my life crashed before my feet, and so I slept. I crawled into the only safety net I had, my dreams. I only got up to go to the bathroom. I slept for 3 days straight, and then decided not to move for 7 more days. A few threats of suicide drifted into thought, and interrupted my existance, and on several occasions I was left in my own drunken stupor, throwing up all my hopeful chances of alcohol poisoning. I gave up on everything, on everything I loved, including my family, on all of the things I enjoyed. I gave up everything I wanted, and got lost in what I thought would be my only fate. This, dear reader, is where my quest begins. Why did I give up my sense of self? Was is because of all of these circumstances and more left unmentioned, or is it just purely psychological? I'm better now than I was then, because of the wonderful support that was given to me by my boyfriend, who is now my fiance and the love of my life, But I'm still in that emotional tornado.

Today, I am not an emotionally stable person. There are days that are up and days that are down, but the ups are too high, and the downs are way too low. I've read on depression, I've read on all the different types of emotional disorders, but there's only one that seems to fit the profile, and that is what is known today as Bi-polar Disorder, or Manic Depression. I'm searching for an answer to one question that nobody else has been able to answer for me. Do I have it?

posted by Kasey @ 10/14/2005 09:43:00 AM