Dancing Queen

She is the dancing queen, young and sweet only 17, but not for much longer. My birthday is this week, and I’m going to be 18. Officially an adult, legally allowed to smoke my lungs black, to gamble away all my money, to vote in this awful election, to get my own loans, to go to a strip club, to get married! The list goes on. Now, I’m not going to actually go out and get a pack of cigarettes or run off and elope or even visit the strip club, nonetheless, it is still exciting.

I’ve always had a tremendous amount of freedom in my life. My mom let me do nearly anything (except walk to the park alone because I guess that’s very dangerous) as a kid. I got a tattoo at 17, I traveled on my own at 15, I’ve even drank alcohol with my mom. Going to college wasn’t a huge shock to me because when I was going to go somewhere or have a sleepover, I asked my mom out of formality. I knew she trusted me (a trust I earned). Turning 18 is exciting, but also a bit mundane. I’m already on my own at college, really the only thing new is that I’m going to vote. However, that’s a political can of worms I am not opening on this blog.

I’ve never really liked my birthday to be honest. It’s so close to my favorite holiday (Halloween) that it almost feels in the way. I’ve never been a huge birthday person, mostly because I hate gifts and attention. Okay, as a birthday gift to all of you, I will get real personal.

My dad is a jerk. Gosh I so hope he never finds this blog. Basically, he has done a lot to hurt me throughout my life. My parents are divorced, that’s no secret, but my dad and I never got along well. Throughout my life he made me feel worse and worse about myself. He’d indirectly call me fat or tell me I’m too short to be pretty or that I hurt him so badly whenever I couldn’t come over to his house one weekend. It wasn’t too bad, I could handle it. However, he would always get me cheap gifts. I would come to his house and a cheap CD player would be on my bed, or a coloring book, or a pack of gum. Stupid little things he would get me to buy my love. Stupid little things to make himself look like the better parent. Meanwhile he would neglect child support and never open the college fund he was court ordered to put money in every month for me. Then I made a mistake. I went on a suicide hotline one night, not because I was going to hurt myself, just because I needed someone to talk to. It’s probably my greatest regret. I talked about my dad to the person online. I told them everything. Things I had never ever told anyone before in my entire life. I told them about everything he did, I guess they thought it was bad enough to find out my name and call CPS. CPS investigated my life. They interviewed me, my brothers, my dad, my mom, my step parents. The tore my life apart. I lied. I told them how much I loved my dad. I told them what a great father he was. They, in turn, told me I was wasting their time. I was a perfectly happy and healthy teen, and I shouldn’t have gotten a suicide hotline involved. After that, everything got so much worse.

He sued for custody of me. He lost and won. He got more custody of me, but not full. I had to see him every Tuesday and Thursday and every other weekend. Things got bad. He would do the same things to me, more often. The things he said were harsher.  I never loved my grandma who had just passed away. I hate my step mom. I don’t care about my step brothers. My mother is evil. My step father is a nut case. Why don’t I work out more? But mostly he would tell me about how much I’ve hurt him. He would tell me over and over and over and freaking over that I didn’t love him nearly enough. He told me that so many times that it became true. He would say that all I ever want to do is hurt him. My mom has turned me against him. He would say how he knows I’ll try and never see him again when I go to college. He knows I’ll keep his grandkids away from him one day. Finally we got into the biggest fight we’d ever been in.

He came into my room and started yelling the same things he’d always said calmly to me. I hate him, I hurt him, I don’t care about him, my mom ruined his life, my mom turned me against him. He was kicking my door over and over. When that wasn’t enough, he opened my door and slammed it closed and opened it again and slammed it back again and again. To this day every slam of a door is a fist clenching my heart in its palm. I can’t hear the slam of a door without jumping and remembering. I texted my mom to pick me up as soon as she could. I ran out of my room and he ran after me. I made it outside before fear froze me completely. All those awful things he had done to me. I don’t know what happened next. My mom said she found me laying and shaking on the pavement with him trying to pick me up and hug me.

After that, I got his custody taken away. That was the summer of junior year. My lawyer told me that if I still want child support, I have to still see him sometimes. My mom told me he’s still my dad so I have to see him. I would see him every few month my senior year. Now that I’m in college, I talk to him more than ever. He’s near my college a lot because of his job and he texts me almost every other day. I broke my step brothers’ hearts by leaving. I made my dad’s side of the family hate me. I’m not making that up either, my cousins sent me a letter describing, in detail, how much they hate me. They included picture of me and on the backs of the picture they said horrible things to me. What kills me is that after I went and made my whole dad’s side of the family hate me, I still have to see him. In high school I used to say to myself I only have to go through three more years, only two more years, one more year. Now I find myself doing that again. Only four more years until I can have my degree and go anywhere in the USA in search for a teaching job. I’m hoping my willingness to leave my current state will help me find a job. A lot of teachers can’t find jobs because they want to stay home, however I want to be almost anywhere but home. Hopefully that helps me.

So I’m sorry I said all this stuff. I know it wasn’t the happiest of posts I could’ve made for my birthday, but I share so much here, it hasn’t made sense to me that I never said this before. I apologize about some of the blanks in this story, there are still some things I’m not comfortable sharing. I left out a lot of things because I just don’t like to be reminded. If anything maybe my story will be a comfort to anyone out there with family issues. I know what it’s like to have no one believe that you are being abused mentally or physically (I don’t like to say that I’ve been abused because then people assume things, and I know I had it easy compared to some kids. While my dad did harm me a lot mentally and physically, I know it’s nothing next to some stories. Also, my dad always victimized himself and told me I was hurting him, I refuse to play the victim). I know what it’s like to have to lie so that you don’t hurt other people. If you ever need someone to talk to, I am here for you. I wouldn’t trust suicide hotlines anymore, but I would never disclose information to anyone. I promise my next post will be more upbeat! I think I’ll talk about Halloween next time. I loooove Halloween so it should be a bit happier. Happy birthday to me, I love you guys, here’s to another year of blogging!

-AcuteAnimosity ❤

Sorry!

I realized that I left you guys with a pretty raw and sad poem. Jeez, I think it’s been months since I’ve posted. Okay, so I have two really amazing poem ideas that I just can’t seem to figure out where I want to go with. So, there’s no poem with this, but I will update you guys.

I graduated high school

Okay, again, I graduated high school.

I’ve been blogging since I was in middle school, and now I am a graduate blogger. It’s surreal (for lack of ability to explain). I’m going to college in August. It’s insane. I’ve wanted to go to college since I was in kindergarten. No joke either, I have actually been working hard in school for the sole purpose of going to college since kindergarten. I remember my mom sitting me down one day when I was in kindergarten and saying “Listen, if you want to be a teacher you have to go to college. You aren’t going to get into college without good grades so you better start working hard. I know you’re more than smart enough to do it, but you have to actually try.” Every since I’ve been  Pushing myself harder and harder to have perfect grades. I graduated with National Honor Society and as a part of National Society for High School Scholars. Not only that, but guys this is important so listen up, I gave a speech at my graduation.

You heard me right, I gave a commencement speech. 400 students in my class and only 3 were able to give speeches. The Class president gives one, and two are up for grabs. Out of all the people who submitted speeches, and we are talking about class treasurer, the top ranked kid in out class, extremely popular and sporty kids, and kids who actually text our principal, I was chosen. At first a lot of people were livid. I’m just some nobody. This year though, I became somebody. I didn’t even see it happening. This year I was chosen for not one but two prestigious choirs in my area, I was in a traveling musical to teach kids about bullying, I got a lead role in our school musical, I was the editor-in-chief of our school blog, I sung the national anthem at homecoming, and I gave a speech at my graduation. A lot of people felt I didn’t deserve to give that speech. They thought they could’ve given a better one or that someone more popular should have given it. All that was before I stood center stage in my cap and gown to give my speech.

Once I started to speak, it was like I was holding the hand of every single person in my class. I spoke words that no one could deny. I mentioned every kid individually without even saying a single name. I gave a speech that made people laugh, cry, and think. I made people look past who was speaking and genuinely hear what I was saying. I said what everyone was thinking, but no one was saying. I talked about fear and love, I talked about not knowing what was going to happen and how that is okay. I looked my best friend in the eye and told her how much I loved her, while helping everyone else tell their best friend the same thing. My speech wasn’t about me. It was about every kid in my class individually and collectively. The outcome of my speech was incredible.

People I didn’t even know rushed up to me. My family, my friends, my enemies, and perfect strangers hugged me and wanted to tell me how my speech touched them. The number one ranked kid in my class told me they were so glad that my speech was chosen over theirs because they couldn’t stop crying through my speech. The video of my speech was plastered all over Facebook and people commented about how they wished they had that speech at their graduation and how it was the best speech of the night and how my speech was the only one they could remember from the night.

I’m sure there was some kid in the audience who hated my speech. I even said that during my speech, but the majority reaction that my speech caused was overwhelming. It was everything I wanted to accomplish with that speech. I say it was my speech, but really it was the class of 2016’s speech. It belongs to every graduate this year. I know that in reality, my speech hasn’t gone viral, it hasn’t changed thousands of lives, but it’s stuck in the few hundred minds that have heard it. That’s incredible. I never thought that my speech would even be chosen. After all, who was I? But it turns out that no one could’ve given that speech like I did. The other kid chosen to give a speech was a wildly popular kid. The class president was also wildly popular, but they are the minority. Kids like me are the vast majority in high school. I don’t mean kids who love to write and sing, I mean kids who feel like cellophane stuck to the lockers in the hallway. I gave that speech like it was the last thing I would ever do, and it vibrated in the hearts of my audience. It bounced from person to person, a melody that was sticking in their heads. I did something that no one can take away from me. I’ve never been so proud of my either.

I’m going to college to become a teacher, and I gave a speech at my graduation. I’ve accomplished two dreams, one I’ve had forever, and one I never knew I dreamed of until it had already come true. That’s incredible. If I can do it, so can you, so can anyone. I know this is shamefully cliche, but guys, go for your dreams. You can do anything. Love you guys, till next time,

-AcuteAnimosity