Middle class home with a black sheep

Weeks after my break up I was still broken up. I would see the two of them in the halls, smiling happy, holding hands, it tore my heart to pieces. My best friend and I were talking one day about cute guys and I mentioned how hot Mr. ******, my history teacher was. Oops, did I say that out loud! My friends mouth dropped opened, "REALLY?!" She thought so too. The one thing I had to look forward to was history class now, I didn't care about writing anymore, I poured my heart out to my ex and he broke it, writing gets you no where, it only causes pain and heartache. The only place I wrote was my diary. History class was boring as usually but one day in class I started to physically undress my teacher...in my mind. Wait was I really doing this and why? He was my teacher?! What the heck is wrong with me? I couldn't stop, I tried to doodle and it wasn't working, I couldn't get that picture out of my head of him standing there without a shirt teaching, HELLO this is a fantasy! Why is this happening in my mind. As the bell rang I bolted out of class. That night I went home and was still trying to put together what had happened to me. Am I alone here? I went to my room.

May 15Th, 1991 Dear Diary, something happened to me in Mr. ******* class today, I started picturing him without his shirt on! He looked very cute, I can feel my face getting hot am I wrong to think like this? What is wrong with me? The school year is almost over, maybe after summer it will just go away. I wonder if he could even look at someone like me, he always is with the jocks, his arms around them, why am I wishing it was me? Whats wrong with me?

My feelings continued until the last day of school and throughout the summer, he and his wife lived at the end of my block and I would often ride my bike down that way to see if he was out mowing his lawn or playing with his kids. I didn't understand my feelings for an older man, I wasn't sure why I was having them and why they wouldn't go away.

When school started back up in the fall he was again my History teacher..guess what those damn thoughts continued, but they got A WHOLE lot more personal. I started failing history it got so bad. Getting a D is better than getting an F any day!

After school these days I didn't want to do my chores, I didn't want to do anything but sit in my room and write. I started rebelling a lot, my step mother said it was because my father was a wreck and had began dressing in women's clothing the phrase I heard was "shes your daughter fix it to be honest seeing dad in a dress never bothered me, it bothered my new family. I starting stealing things from my family, like my sisters clothing, jewelry, my stepmothers first wedding ring, I simply stashed them in my room I don't know why I was rebelling. I was so confused and mad at myself that I was having such thoughts. I went to my Diary.

Sept, 19Th, 1991 Dear Diary,
I can't stop thinking about Mr. *******, I want him to touch me the way he touches his wife, I want that feeling of being held, I want him to run his hands across my chest, kiss me all over. I want him to want me and touch me the way he touches the girls on his team. I have never had sex but I would be willing to have sex with him.

After the "shes your daughter fix it" my dad just that, I remember the day he came into my room, looking for the stolen items, he rummaged through everything, he tore down my Patrick Swayze and Judd Nelson posters from the walls, took my cassette tapes and ripped the ribbon out of them. When I got home from school I found my mess of a room, I knew I was in trouble. I got called upstairs that night my step mom and father sitting at the dining room table, in their hand....my diary. I could feel my face get hot, I couldn't prepare myself for what was coming next....the told me because of the remarks not only about the sexual nature of my thoughts that they wanted to make sure it WASN'T true they were bringing the diary to my teachers house. I started screaming and crying begging them not to. I told them it wasn't true, it was my fantasy and to re-read what I wrote but they wouldn't listen.

I balled my eyes out as my parents went out the door and down the street to see my teacher, this can't be happening! That's my diary, that's private! I felt humiliated and felt horrible for what my teacher now has to go through, my teacher re-assured my parents that nothing had happened, however my parents decided to also take my diary to the school principle, because of the remarks about my teacher and his hands on the girls on the basketball team he was also checked out by the school board. The girls on the basketball team all agreed that NOTHING inappropriate happened. I was IMMEDIATELY transferred from his class, I couldn't bare to walk down the school halls, everyone knew, the girls on the basketball team had told a few people and they told a few people. I will never forget how mortified I was the dirty looks I got from so many people. I wanted to die. To this day I am still mortified and yet apologetic to that teacher I hurt so many years ago.

That fall was to long, I was still in school and glad to see winter. I love the snow, when your young you can go out build forts, have snowball fights and be a kid. Where I am from the snow got so high I could climb onto the roof and walk on top of the bank. Of course I got yelled at, how and where am I going to fall, in the snow?! "Stupid Parents"
I kept what few friends I had left close to me, they heard the rumors but still had my back, they were my only friends. They were bigger girls, chubby they never really had boyfriends, but a lot more male friends than I. The newer girl that came in that we took in complained a lot, she said she would never have a boyfriend, she was to fat and ugly. It went on and on until the spring when I thought I had a brilliant idea. I decided to make up a guy and start sending her letters from a guy that doesn't exist. I went on in the letters about how (this writer) had shown him a photo and he fell head over heels. I wrote in the letters that I was an older guy who drove a motorcycle and that people called me mustard. SHE LOVED the letters! She started wearing more make up, carrying herself confident. I continued the letters for a few months. She would often ask me when she gets to meet him and I would say oh hes on the road, blah blah. What I didn't count on was my Best friend and new friend comparing my hand writing samples. She was so mad she never talked to me again. I tried to explain I was trying to help her with her confidence, what I didn't think about was how my new friend would fall in love with my writing. I didn't see it back then, but I see it now and even today I feel horrible that I broke her heart.
It was a tough up-coming summer, my good looking guy friend was leaving, moving to Florida. Why does everyone leave? What is it about me that drives people away? He said he had no choice it was a family move. He didn't know that I had a crush on him, he was the type of person that made you go weak in the knees when he smiled, the kind of guy that would part his arm around you and say It'll be OK, now he was leaving. I cried that day after school, I didn't realize until he said "leaving" that he was gone. I ended up writing him after he moved away but I never got any response back. I was just hoping that he was happy were he was and wanted him to know I missed him and was thinking of him.

I knew this year of school would suck, I had NO friends, ZERO none. I had driven them all mad, I hurt them, I betrayed them, I deserved to be alone. I did manage to buy another diary I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to ever write again but for reasons like no friends I needed a diary.
Sept 8Th, 1993 Dear Diary,
A new school year and I have no friends, everyone hates me and I want to die. Nothing else new, talk to you after school.

That year the stupid boys in my class got worse with their harassment of me that had started in the years earlier, they now called me stuffer, stove top stuffing and would not only throw Kleenex at me while I walked down the hall but the started trying to grab a hold of certain parts of my body. Why are the teachers not doing anything? Are the parents of these kids funding the school? I was on my own, and I just took it, I would often go to the bathroom and cry, I started skipping gym class because I couldn't bare to see myself naked. It was going great until my step mom came home sick one day to find me watching the price is right at home. BUSTED is right, I had to go back to school. She found out about the forged letters to my gym teacher, I really don't think the teachers wanted me in school, I think they cared less, I was a liability.

I had to do a lot of reading that year, I hated reading, every time I tried to read my mind wondered then I heard the kids in school in my head laughing at me trying to read. I didn't turn in my book reports or I made them up as best I could, I read the back panel and made that my book report. Didn't work so good. My parents got called into school..again. I was told I was going to read, now my father had stopped abuse that was in the family, he never hit me, well spanked, but not beat up the way my father was. My punishment for not reading...they sat me in the corner with a chair facing the wall and told me I was to sit there until I finished my book, what am I 5?! Well it worked, of course not right away I am a stubborn rebellious teenager and wasn't about to give in to my parents. I would doze off and they would wake me up and make me read. So I finally gave in, read the damn book and turned in my book report.

Sept 22ND, 1993 Dear Diary I hate my parents, they are mean they made me sit in the stupid corner reading a book for school, I hate school. The boys are being so mean to me, everyone lets them get away with it, no one cares, i feel so alone, I miss ****, he would still be here for me. I am mad at god, I am mad at myself, I hate my life.

I dreaded going to school that morning, I was not in good spirits, I was simply alone and didn't care, no one cared, why the hell should I? I ended up going and I was not happy, walking to my locker the boys already calling me stuffer, damn them! How dare they? I stopped for a moment thinking I should just flash them but I kept my composure, if I flashed them next thing you know they would start calling me a slut.

After gym class that day I was sitting on the bleachers about ready to put my shoes on, when one of the boys that had been bullying me grabbed my shoes and said "come get um stove top" I plead with him to give them back, my other classmates guys and gals watched, some were laughing, I could feel my tears starting to come, I fought them back, all I could hear was stuffer, stove top, i glared into his eyes and took my fist with all my built up anger took one hit right to his face. He got a little pissed and was about to hit me back when the gym teacher ran over to me, I told him "let him hit me go ahead, I don't care, FUCK ALL OF YOU" they all were laughing in hysterics. I was escorted to the office and suspended for hitting, that's also the day the harassment of me at the school came out, my parents go on to threaten legal action if nothing was done, the principles secretary stated "she brought this on herself" I walked out of school with my head down that day. I went home and to my room.
I just laid in bed staring out the window and up at the ceiling, I didn't want to write I didn't want anything. A few hours later I went into my parents bedroom, grabbed a bottle of my fathers sleeping pills, took what was in the bottle, 3 days later woke up in the psych ward. I was a little pissed off I woke up, I didn't want to wake up, no one wanted me to wake up I stopped caring about life the day life stopped caring about me.
After my suicide attempt my parents had told me some news, my step mom had breast cancer, I was in shock, I didn't know what to think, feeling anything right now was difficult, I had already endured pain that I wasn't ready for more. They told me that maybe I needed more help a place that I could go with other kids that help them cope with problems. Fine with me, get me the hell out of here, I wanted nothing to do with High School anymore. I felt like I was being sent away because I was horrible teenager...and I was. They assured me I wouldn't want to watch my step mom "getting sick" but its okay for her kids to stay? Right because she is their real mom, I am only a piece of trash step child. Whatever. I told them I would go and when the time came I was pretty excited actually, I got to leave this awful place behind.

The place I went was a very relaxed environment, it was all open within the city, little cottages for sleeping, the kids I saw ranged in age from 8-18 years old, and we were all their because we all had problem, we were all are own family, we were the discards the natural born families didn't want. I started off in an evaluation cottage, basically I am sent their for a 30 day eval. I would go to school and do chores, just like home...oh yes and see a shrink...oh joy. I gotta say I had a blast in eval, I went wild, I goofed off, I got in trouble, I rebelled and I loved it, I felt like I was on top of a mountain and screaming I am the queen! I could be me, the freak of me and I did just that. Well I managed to meet some cool people a few guys too. After my 30 days they decided....Long term placement....THANK GOD! I don't have to go back to that horrible school, anywhere but that school back home and I didn't care. I was moved to a long term cottage 12 of us stayed there, boys in one half, girls in the other. We had constant 24 hour supervision...yes babysitters, my new therapist was older, I didn't like him at all...I didn't know how I would butt heads with him but I knew that I could get what I wanted....in time....boy was I wrong!

He was good, too good...dammit! Being older, is also being wiser...FACT, I would often go into his office and we would kinda jump all over about anything but real therapy, I always noticed how he would hold his index finger at his temple and thumb on his chin, it really bugged me, I felt like I was "boring" him, his leg muscles were really ripped, I had never seen such huge leg muscles, his beard, white matched his hair and during the summer all he ever wore was flip flops and shorts with tight t-shirts that made his beer belly stick out all to vivid.

I started school on the campus their and I loved it, the teachers were VERY nice and if anyone got out of line they were immediately taken back to their cottage, either put in time out or if needed restraints (restraints were used meaning a staff would physically hold down the person or persons that were out of control).

I loved my English teacher, she was a huge Bruce Springsteen fan and also had a passion for labs. She had a wonderful spark to her and a smile that could make you smile even on your worst day. I remember her teeth were perfect, like she must have had some form of braces, they were straight and so tightly together, almost painful looking to have her smile, but beautiful. She loved my writing, NOW SHE knew how to edit, everything I gave her, she found the errors and started trying to help me with grammatical errors, she never forget to put smileys on the bottom of my work, with notes like "excellent" or "wonderful" she was a mentor, she knew how to teach, she knew how to use positive re-enforcements even on a negative.

I had another teacher that I recall all to well...she was very bouncy, meaning....coffee high! That blond hair and that quirky laugh with the caffeine running through her body...wowsers! She was fun though, she would stop to make sure you were understanding what was going on, and what was supposed to be done. She often rewarded us with candy or her stickers.

The computer teacher was one of my favorites, he smelled of cigarettes like my father, and actually reminded me a lot of my father, I spent a lot of time in the computer lab, if I wasn't playing a game I was learning something new from him.

A school day we would all go into class around 8am get a break to go back to our cottages around 11:30 am to have lunch, then back to school until 3 p.m. Once school let out we were sent back to our cottages to do chores and help with things like dinner. The staff was always their to help but encouraged us older ones to try to do things on our own, telling us we wouldn't be kids forever. Some of the staff were just mean, they would really just make us sit quietly and read or watch TV, however if a male was watching TV downstairs a female could not go, and if a female was same goes. At no time was any male or female allowed alone anywhere. I had 5 roommates in my room, 2 sets of bunk beds and a single bed, for the most part we all got a long and we were all fairly new to the place, except the one girl on her way out. I didn't know what her problem was she acted like she was to good for us, the problem was is that she was near completing the program and growing up, the rest of us were simply just starting out.

Now I spent a lot of time goofing, I didn't want to be serious, being serious makes me cry and I hate to cry. I wasn't about to get serious. I did what I was supposed to in school, I went from D's and F's to Straight A's. I loved school, I loved to learn, and I loved the way my teachers taught. Some might say we were fragile beings so they took it easy on us, I assure you they did not, they simply were able to find a way to teach and reach each student individually. I cherish those days.

Cottage life was a little bit different, I had met a boy there, he stayed at the cottage across the yard from mine, we would stare at each other across the yard. I would be writing in my diary or out with my bunk mates and he would be out their staring..lets call him "scarecrow". One thing about this place they FORBID relationships, they don't want them at all on the property, well...who was I to start listening now? We slipped each other love notes and every chance we were close enough we would touch each others hands, we were careful. There was an outdoor pool on the grounds and we would often meet up at the pool and eye ball each other, if we got to close the staff would simply say "back it up you two".

I liked him a lot he was a nice guy, after he left we kept in touch through letters, slowly I started to fall into a period of boredom. When a new girl came into our cottage we immediately hit it off, she was cool! We hung out all the time, laughed a lot. Store run nights were Friday nights, now who didn't love store run night, that is the night we went out to a DQ or a store and got to stock up on junk food or whatever we wanted, we actually got to leave the property with staff, we had fun, always. One night on store run my new friend and I were talking, she said she didn't live far from the place and was I happy here? Well I was having fun, she told me that we could run away and live together with friends. I was scared and skeptical. I wasn't sure what to do, but the next night we ran away.

It was pretty easy, the staff would check on us every hour, shining flash lights in our faces, we knew that after they shined the lights in and they walked back up the hallway we could go, and that we did...right out the window. We did it, we made it! We got to her friends place and she told me that if we were going to run and stay hidden we needed to color my hair, so we did. We tried to do blond but I looked not so blond, peroxide on hair is never a good idea!
Later that night a couple of guys she knew brought some beer over and we started drinking, my first time drinking...WOW did I loosen up, now when they wanted me to do a hit of pot I really didn't know, I had never done drugs and was afraid, yes even of pot...but I did it to be accepted I needed friends. I loved how I felt, I felt free and funky! I found myself laying on the couch in the living room when I see a set of eyes looking at me,something was happening that felt wrong, one of her male friends was on top of me trying to get in my pants! I kicked him with my knee, he fell to the floor, I ran out the door, I didn't know where I was or where I was going. Now from what I was told by my parents the next events are what transpired. I end up at a truck stop in town placing a call to my step mom, I tell her I am in trouble that I hit someone over the head and stole their wallet, I don't remember any of that conversation! My step mom keeps me on the phone long enough to get my location and then calls the police, after all I was a runaway, they were already looking for me. I started to get very very tired, I saw a semi truck and went over to it, I knocked on the door and no one answered, I opened the door and climbed in, not even one minute later I recall a woman telling me that I wouldn't want to be in their and do I need help. The next thing I know I slowly waking up in the hospital.

I was told when I awoke I had alcohol poisoning and that I would live, I was sent back the next day. I found myself in my therapists office looking at the ceiling. I knew what I had done was wrong, I could feel his eyes peeling at me wanting me to talk but I simply wouldn't I would answer a yes or no, but he didn't know anything, he was their getting paid, I was their because I was forced to be. I didn't need to look in his eyes I could feel the guilt in my throat, I could feel his disappointment, it was like being in a room with my father.

I lost all privileges to go anywhere except to school, I would have to come back to the cottage, do my homework, do extra chores. I watched the other kids out the windows having fun I could hear them laughing and wished that I could be laughing too.

The program here requires you to complete 4 steps, 1, 2, 3, & 4 if you complete all the steps you are discharged successfully. The staff, teachers and coordinators meet weekly to determine your status. If we feel we are ready to move to a new step, we are to put it in writing as to why we deserved it, after a few months I tried for my step 2 and I got it! I also got a later bedtime, more allowance and just the feeling of being something other than a step one. Now our cottage was planning a ski trip and I was psyched! We would often take trips outside the cottage like that but you had to be a step two or higher, all I had to do was keep it together for a couple more weeks and I did!
The ski trip day had come, we all piled in our huge van and headed off to the mountains. I was so excited, I had never skied but I wanted to. All of us non-skiers had to start off on the bunny slope with an instructor. I was told I did great! I was happy and actually having fun. I decided I would try the smallest hill after the bunny slope, my heart was racing, I looked over the edge counted to three and went, I was doing it, I was skiing! I held my head up as I felt the cold come across my face, it was the greatest feeling in the world, ahead I saw what appeared to be a little girl that had fallen, I swerved around her as best as I could, I looked back to make sure I didn't hurt her, when I looked back up everything went black.

When I opened my eyes I saw blurry visions of people and could barely hear what they were saying, I recall a woman's voice saying she had to unzip my pants to check for bleeding, I wasn't sure what was going on, I recall floating looking up at the sky when I realized I was being carried by stretcher up a hill, I had run into a tree and knocked myself out cold. There was no permanent damage I had a nice shiner though, and to top that off because of my accident I ruined every ones trip it was cut short when they all had to turn around and go home. If that didn't take the cake, one of the kids in my cottage was celebrating his birthday there. I felt horrible. They took me to the hospital did ex rays no broken bones, just a lovely black and blue face. I went back to the cottage and slept a lot for the next 24 hours or so.

My therapist asked me if I ran into the tree on purpose, I told him he was nuts, I yelled and said for once I was actually having fun and look what happens, I am not meant to have fun, I am meant to suffer and feel pain. He asked me why I felt like that. I want to know why therapists always ask why, he replied, "why do you want to know" I found the dirtiest look I could find and gave it to him.

About a month passed and my face had healed nicely. I had my eye another boy and he had his eye on me. He was really awesome, sweet and wrote the most amazing love letters. I was doing great at the center, since this boy was in my cottage we were actually able to get away with more, we kept things very secret. We talked about running away together, how it would be fun, how we could live off the land. One afternoon I had a horrible therapy session I was pissed off at my therapist, I watched my "boyfriend" outside with his friends, I didn't know what I was thinking or even where the staff was but I bolted out my window, camera in hand and took off, he ran off after me, we bolted across the street and knocked on the door of a house, an elderly man let us in after I asked if we could use the phone. The staff were hot on our trail, not even 5 minutes, I could see the shadow of my staff at the door wearing his cowboy hat, I whispered quietly to the man please don't let him in, please don't answer and he didn't. I asked the man if I could get him anything he said no. I don't know why but I saw a bottle of pills, grabbed them off the table and put them in my pocket. We left his house about an hour later. We ended up at a house of a person that he knew, I was nervous not knowing where I was or who these people were, if they would turn us in and so on. I was glad my "boyfriend" was their. We stayed in the spare bedroom, I lost my virginity that night, it was not planned, it just happened, an old mattress on the floor of a room, holes in the walls, it was not ANYTHING like I expected, it was awkward, uncomfortable, and strange. My boyfriends so called friends had turned us in, I was in more trouble than losing my privileges this time, I was in big trouble, I had no clue how the tables were getting ready to spin on me.