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Childhood Dystopia Part 3
Childhood Dystopia Continues, Moving West....
After only 8 months since part 1 I am finally ready to sit down and give part 3 a try. I expect this part of the story might get a few more reads by friends I have made here since joining. I do hope that if you are one of those friends you will read parts 1&2, links will be provided at the end.
So where I left off in my personal story, I was leaving catholic school and getting ready to take the farm on the road. I look back now and giggle like a crazy person at the vision of us on the road with the animals but at the time I was not impressed. I was a young teenage person, when are they ever impressed?!
As you may recall from part 2 my adopted mom lost her father first then shortly there after her only biological child, big Kirsten, to a drugs overdose. They both had lived in washington state and now that I had finished catholic school somehow we were ready to move to Washington State.
We got one of those big U-haul trucks and filled it with all our worldly possessions. The house was sold and we where ready to go. We had managed to sell or give away most of the goats and other animals. We did not want to give up all the animals and we had had two birth defects that year so they could not be given away. The list of animals we brought is somewhat amazing!
Attached to the U-Haul truck was our car, in it we had our wandering farm. We had three dogs, several siamese cats, some chickens, some geese (one blind goose), and a momma goat. In the drivers/passengers area we had a persian cats. The persian cat could not ride with the siamese cats because the siamese cats were racist and beat her up badly. We had another kitten up there with us in the truck, as she was to cute and lovely, a great traveling companion. At my feet was a baby goat born with a deformed leg.
In retrospect I look back and think, you can't make this stuff up, it's bloody brilliant! At the time however I was a VERY moody teen or pre-teen (whatever). I do really think there was a moment there when my adopted mom seriously considered putting me in a foster home and finding the closest mental hospital available and checking in!
Towards the end of the trip we started to perk up a bit and started listening to the radio and laughed about our lunacy Ha Ha Ha *cough*! As we moved along the Oregon trail up into washington we heard one of my favorite bands on the radio, the spin doctors. They were going to be in concert soon at a place called 'George' in Washington. It is the amazing natural amphitheater, if you ever are able, go! Anyway my adopted mom says to me "fancy going to that concert?"
I had not been to a real concert before. I couldn't believe she was offering that we could go to a real concert! I was like 'no way, seriously, we can go to a concert?' (sorry just had to go valley girl there for a moment, I will try to control myself in future). Well she was serious, she figured it would be a good break before we reached out destination and all the stress that that would entail. There was no guarantee that we could make it work and get tickets but we would give it a good try. The music line up was 'The Spin Doctors', 'Screaming Trees' and 'Soul Asylum'. I was so excited to see the spin doctors and while I didn't know the others I figured live music is always fantastic.
As I quickly mentioned before the gorge at George Washington is a natural amphitheater. The site was managed by some really lovely native american guys, who were totally cool for us to camp out in the field until the concert and managed to get us some tickets too. Between our wandering farm, (who can resist the animals right?) and one of the guys possibly fancying my adopted mom, we were made to feel totally welcome. I was even given an overflow aerosmith t-shirt from a previous concert that was totally cool.
Meeting Destiny or something like that
There is not much more to say about that concert, we listened to the music, it was good and then it was time to leave. It was not long before we reached out destination. In my mind I had visions of us living in Seattle (that is where I wanted us to go) and it didn't quite happen like that.
My adopted mom had made a friend in a town called Sequim when she was last in the State for Big Kirstens funeral. The plan was that we would stay with this guy in his auto parts shop. The building was actually a decent size for putting someone up. My adopted mom got the one good room for a bedroom and I got the couch in the waiting room. I would have much preferred to sleep in the upstairs area, where I would not have to hear this guys drunk ravings in the middle of the night. I am not sure but I assume the upstairs would have been too cold or something. At the time I was sure that it was because my adopted mom was set to ruin my life! The distance started to really grow between us there, I got so angry at her and I am not really very good with anger. At that time I didn't allow myself to really get angry, and expressing it was to be totally out of control.
Fortunately we did not stay there long, things started going missing, passes were being made towards my mom (the guy was married) and with the drinking we just did not feel safe there, so we got out. My mom had gotten me into a high school in Port Angeles so we weren't stuck in Sequim. We got a room at a hotel on the other side of Port Angeles, on the way out to lake crescent and Forks. It was not a cheep way to live so she ramped up the efforts to find a better alternative and we only stayed there for a short while.
When we moved from the hotel we moved into a camping spot for RV's next to a small restaurant called the Hungry Bear. This is halfway between Port Angeles and Forks, by now my mom had a new boy friend and he moved in with us at the hotel and moved to the RV park with us. The RV was a very small one, used, with no shower or toilet facilities. If you wanted to get changed everyone else had to step outside. This would have been comfortable for one, for two assuming they are not fighting every other minute it would be cozy, for three it was very cramped.
My mom managed to find and buy a piece of land. This small piece of land had a glacial underground spring and lots of trees, nothing else, no electricity or plumbing or other modern gizmo's. Today she has that place almost self sufficient, and if I were to move back to the states I would seriously consider living there. At the time I hated it, I felt totally isolated and thrown back into a different time era that I felt embarrassed about at school. Even when we got the electricity hooked up out there it was still a case of if you need to go to the bath room, go find a tree (that is the one thing I would have to do to live there now, dig a hole for an outhouse, I don't mind outhouses, had them back on the farm in Missouri but having a poop behind a tree is less appealing to me).
Suicidal Thoughts Begin to Take Hold
Somewhere in all this shuffling about I started to get pretty depressed. At the Hungry Bear I had started calling my real dad on the pay phone because I couldn't cope and he seemed like a possible way out.
I got my hands on a trilogy by the author Caroline B Cooney. The story was about a young girl being psychologically manipulated to drive her insane with the goal that she would be hospitalized for the rest of her life. The books were, The Fog, The Snow and The Fire. I started wanting to go insane myself, to be locked up away from the world and not have to deal with all the crap. I could not manage to achieve that level of insanity and the only other option I could see was death.
With my mom out late many nights looking for items to make the new piece of land livable I found myself alone in the RV quite often. One night I say there with our big kitchen knife to my arm, crying and praying for the courage and strength to open my arm up and end it all. I was to chicken shit to do it and the next day I told a school counselor about it. Needless to say the counselor got someone to come and evaluate me. I was told that I needed to be hospitalized and that I could either go as a voluntary patient or involuntary. There was not much difference (yeah, right!) but if I chose voluntary status I would have to get someone to give me a ride, probably my mom. She was usually impossible to contact and I couldn't imagine her being willing to take me to a hospital. I chose to be an involuntary patient and an ambulance came to the school to take me to the hospital.
The school counselor wished me a speedy recovery and told me to return to school asap. I never did return to that school. Recovery was not to be a speedy matter in any sense of the word. In some regards Fairfax hospital in Kirkland Washington was just the beginning of my story, and as such will have to wait until part 4.
Links to Part 1&2 as well as a link to sign up and share your story here!
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