I remember the day I was born. I know you might be thinking that's not possible but it is I tell you.
6 months before I was born my mom and dad split up. Little did my mom know, she would be having a daughter in 6 months. My mom had decided to move in with her parents, and for my dad well he moved to the other side of the country. My mom needed a job and luckily she found one, near by at a nursing home. She made very little money, but that's the best she could do.
As time got closer to her due date she lost her job. Losing her job made her worry that she would be able to help her parents pay for the house. For a month she didn't leave the house because she was saving money to pay her part of the month's rent. Well then it happened. She went to the bathroom and started to have some contractions, but she just played it off as if they were cramps. When they got to the point were she couldn't bear them anymore she had to call 911.
By the time 911 got there she was on the floor screaming and crying rather loudly. They immedatly rushed her to the hospital and to everyones surprise, a nurse came in to tell that she was pregnant and was fully dialated and needed to push. When I fainally came out the nurses quickly gathered me and took me to the NICU. My mom was not only worried about my health and life, but she felt bad too, because she hadn't taken care of me like she probally should have. Even worse she hadn't taken very good care of herself either.
So here I am, I Julia Rose, was laying there in a small crib in the NICU getting poked and proded with needles and lots of other diffrent tests going on too. When the doctors descovered that I was a premmie, they decided that the first month and 1/2 of my life shall be spent in the NICU. They day I was actually released and and a good bill of health it was like a dream come true for my mom.
The first 2 years of my life were filled with many late nights, daipper changes, bottles, doctor vists, mom's new boyfriend, mom's new boyfriend leaving. My mom's schdule was way to busy and it wasn't a good fit. By the time I was 2 1/2 my mom had my little sister Fiona Jewel, and of course she wasn't expected either! "She looks like you" my mom would always say.
By the time I was 5 and my sister was 3 my mom had fainally manged to say up enough money to take us to the doctor. Both of our nurses had some very sad news that would change our lives forever. We had cancer not a simple type but the most deadliest one children can get, lukimea. My mom was absoutly devastated.
When we got home my mom told me to take my sister and go far away, she wanted nothing to do with us anymore. I grabbed Fiona and started to walk out the front door. I only looked back once, and there was not a tear in my mother's eye. Fiona and I traveled to the hospital were they said we were sick. When we walked in and they were nice and treated us with a kind heart. We were there for about a year before me sister, Fiona Jewel, age 5 passed away. I was in treatment for about another 2 years and then I was cured.
Since my mom had sent my sister and I away, on our own, the state coudn't trust me with her. They tried contacting my dad but very soon they discovered he had killed himself the night before. Therefore; I was put in a stupid foster home. Everyone had there own beds that we kept all our stuff on and slept on. I remember that we were seperated by our ages. I was put in room FG7. The F stands for Foster. The G stands for Girl. The 7 stands for my age.
From then on I went to school everyday and I was the smartest student in my grade. I was starting to undersand why I haven't seen my mom in a I very long time. I don't know why it took me till I was 10 to get the picture. At first I thought it had something to do with me or something I did which made me feel really bad. I went to see the new school counciler and she explained to me it had nothing to do with me or anything I did. I couldn't get the grib that I was nothing that I did. I tried a lot of things to do to get a hold of my mom. I sent emails, letters, and even tried calling her. Anyway I tried it didn't work.
Remember how I was telling you that I was the smartest one in my grade? Well that got me skipping 5th grade and going right on into 6th grade when I was only 10! School was not going very well. Yeah, I have straight A's but it's the people who were making so bad. There wa this one group of girls who wouldn't leave me alone. I was so confused because it seemed like everyone hated me. I became extrmally depressed. At first I wasn't doing anything but as time went on I grew farther and farther away from everyone. I wouldn't talk to anyone. I felt like I had nobody and I had no friend. I felt all alone and I didn't feel like I could talk to anyone. I bottled things up and became very quiet.
I started to become servily unhealthy. When all thhis started happening I was good at talking but as time went on I had, had enough. From the mean people at school and the trying to get a hold of my mom. I woulld think about this all the time. I started to eat very little and I joined the cross-country team. With cutting myself, not eating a lot, and running almost 4 miles everyday my wieght dropped dramitly low. I didn't look very good and my body started shutting down. Nobody could tell that I was servily because I covered my whole self up.
I started cutting myself because that the way I felt I couldn't take it anymore. The sharp blade on my skin sends a tengal through my body and it felt kinda good. I started to eat very little because whenever I would look at my food I thought of how fat it would make me if I ate it. I limited myself to 1 1/2-2 meals a day, depending on what I ate. I started running because it was pushing myself to the point were I would throw up everyday at practice. It gave me time to think and made me feel like I was running away from my problems. Theses are my 3 coping skills. I know that it wasn't the best choice but I didn't want ANY help. I felt so, so bad and I didn't know what to do because I felt so bad.
The foster home decided that I actually wasn't helping myself and so they sent me to an impaient treatment center. It was hard to talk and the first couple of days I was doing the silent treatment. After about 10 vists I decided to tell her everything and surprisingly she was able to help and I didn't give up and se helped me very much. I'm glad I was able to meet her. Even though I felt bad I got the help that I needed.
When I did start cutting it was not like real cuts it was more of just a scartch then the cuts got deeper and deeper and it felt like the thing to at the time. With angzity, depression, eating disorders and cutting all in my head I felt like I needed a excape route if I couldn't take it anymore. My excape route was suicide even though I knew it wouldn't happen, because I would get caught. I had made improvments so I was able to get out if i made weekly counciling possible.
My next vist is in a couple of days. For the past couple of months I have been having very suicidal thoughts but I wasn't going to do anything and I didn't want to worry anyone. We contacted my mom who was in jail. I had no family members. I felt all alone. I didn't know what to do. I chose not to do anything and live my life with some mager help and support.