My Autobiography

Date posted: Tuesday September 26th, 2006 || Filed under: Family, Friends, Life with Bipolar, Parenting || 3 Comments

This is my story regarding what life is like being a bipolar, teenage mom. I have gone through a lot of ups and downs, emotional, physical, and mental abuse. I have had drug, alcohol, and sex abuse. This was written in Aug 2004, and I rewrote it in 2010.  The sole purpose of this entry is to hopefully someday help someone with my experience and story. I hope by someone reading this they will learn from the mistakes I made, or help them in their journey. I also want everyone to know there is a way out of anything you do.

It is for mature audiences only! There are some talk about drugs, alcohol, and sex. Please for mature audiences only! *Most the names written here have been changed to protect the identity of those written about. Thank You.

Many people wonder, how my life can be so hard. No one really understands what exactly what my mind puts me through every second, of every day. I’m lost in a never ending battle of thought that goes on in my own head. My mind is like a war that I created, and that I couldn’t finish. Its like there are three hundred people trapped into one soul, one body; three hundred in which fight constantly about which decisions and thoughts are more important than others. This is my story.

To some, my life was never all that difficult. I was born and raised in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I am a city girl. My parents were divorced by the time I was four years old. Some stories that I’ve heard indicate that I’m at fault for that. I was living with my Mother, Father, and younger sister who was two at the time, when they divorced. I have heard stories that when I was four I told my Dad that I had seen Mom and Mitch kissing, who was my Dad’s best friend. During the divorce the court commissioner asked me, who was only four years old, who I wanted to live with. Being that I was a Daddy’s Girl, I chose him. My Mom insisted that my sister move in with her, and Mitch. She went on to live with my Dad’s best friend and my sister. I visited very little.

I was raised by a father that was never really around. He worked rotating shifts doing a week on first shift, a week on second, and a week on third. When he wasn’t working he was sleeping. In all reality, you can say I wasn’t raised by him at all. I was raised by many different women, and a few men. This is probably the first mistake made that began a life long struggle. It was as though I had different lifestyles with each person I was being taken care by. My main babysitter, Sheri, she had two daughters; two daughters that were teens at the time and they didn’t follow any rule given to them. I watched them as they yelled and screamed to get their every wish and desire. This was the beginning of watching people being able to do this. I would soon learn at this time, that it wasn’t going to end.

The next person to teach me destruction in my life was my Uncle Devin, the alcoholic. I was young, very young. I sat there and watched him sleep the day away, completely passed out and away from the world from the night before. I cleaned up after his drunken movements around the house, knocking everything over. I spent countless hours of my childhood at the bar, instead of playing outside with my friends. Needless to say, I learned how to play pool and darts at a very young age. I watched as he came home, and fought with my father. He threw knives and fists, until he fell to the floor and became confused of the recent happenings. This was only the beginning, and there is so much more to say.

My father also had a few women in his life that he brought in and out of mine. He had many girlfriends here and there, none in which very significant. Being a young girl, with a mother that I didn’t see, I became attached to these women fairly easily. I only became to realize that the ones that I did like didn’t stick around long. This I believe was the beginning of something new. A reason behind why I’m so scared to be attached to people. I was so young, and already I was getting hurt by people leaving me. I would only learn that this was again, never going to end. After a while, my father found someone that became into a great liking. She was another child in my eyes. In the beginning, I was okay with the whole idea. She was another woman who was just like the rest that treated me good because they wanted to be liked. Everything changed when I realized that she wasn’t going anywhere. She decided to move in, and put a complete halt on my growing development of responsibility. Back then, I took care of myself. I cooked, cleaned, did homework, and walked to school, by myself. After she moved in, I was no longer allowed to touch the laundry. I was no longer allowed to cook myself my favorite meal. She had different plans, ones in which I didn’t like.

My dad began to change, too. There were more rules in the house. I had more discipline. I wasn’t allowed to do as I please, when I wanted. Everything was taken away from me, my freedom, my responsibility, my life. I remember, I got in trouble one day because she cooked spaghetti for dinner. I accidently poured too much parmesan cheese on my plate. So, to cover the taste, I added more sauce. For the first time ever, I was told, “You’re not allowed to leave this table until your dinner is finished.” I sat there, gagging the food down until late that evening, getting sent to bed for crying about it. Right then and there, I realized that I wasn’t to sure about this lady my Dad was seeing. I also knew I didn’t like the road of rules and discipline that were going to be forced upon me.

Things started to change in my life by this time. We all moved into a different city; a brand new home for our brand new life. I was forced to leave my friends and school. Start over brand new in a place I didn’t want to be, with certain people I didn’t want to be around. This is also when the whole “I’m growing up and I don’t understand what is happening to Me.” stage began. Every girl goes through it; I just had a lot more tougher time dealing with it. My parents became stricter and stricter with the rules that were being enforced. Since I was so lost in my own head of thoughts I backfired at every single demand given to me. It got to the point where I was screaming, crying, and kicking for hours every single night. I think I was crying out for attention, needless to say, I never got it. I pushed my parents, especially my Dad; to the point the only way to get me to shut up is to hit me. My father’s anger grew more and more, until it was to the point where he’d hold it inside just to take it out on me. I began staying at friend’s houses a lot more by now. It was going to be something that I was going to learn how to do a lot. I would stay away from my house for days at a time, as long as I was allowed to. I tried talking to my friends back then, but nothing really every mattered or helped. I began to teach myself how to bottle everything inside. When I returned back home, I’d get screamed at for doing nothing wrong. So I would take all the emotions I had bottled up and release them at my parents. They thought I was unruly and unable to be controlled. Honestly, they thought it was a hundred times worse than it really was.

This went on for three years, until they couldn’t deal with it any longer. I was shipped to my mom’s house. Where a group of people lived that I only visited for a weekend once a month. This was yet another new lifestyle I had to learn. I had new rules, a new life, a new everything. Once again, I was forced to find new friends, and start at a new school. This wouldn’t be the first time that I would learn how to move into somewhere fast. A whole new thing I had to deal with also, living with another sibling. At my dad’s, I was always by myself, “The Only child”. I now had to not only share my parents with another person, but share my belongings, privacy, and bedroom. This was great, at first. Pretty soon, I got easily annoyed, by not just my sister, but by every little thing happening to me. It grew to be something that wasn’t normal. I got annoyed by everything that wasn’t to the little bit to my liking. I handled it the only way I knew how, with bouts of anger pouring out. I cried and screamed at everyone that was near. I couldn’t handle sharing my stuff with my sister. I began to shut her out of my life. I divided our bedroom into two parts. She was very young still; I was only beginning the 7th grade. She didn’t understand that I didn’t want to be bothered, she just wanted to be like her older sister, and she only seen a very angry girl.

I began my new middle school in August. My emotions calmed down for a small period of time, since I got out of that environment for six hours of the day. I made new friends quickly. By the first day of school, I had two new friends. Ones in which would teach me alot of things I know now. Jillian and Jill were two girls that had known each other their entire lives. I was brought in to the mix of their relationship. I became best friends with both of them equally. Together, we were three as a whole. They smoked, drank, and lied. I soon caught on to their secrets and became far from the innocent girl I was. I didn’t realize it back then, but I honestly believe I would have been a much different person had I not met them. I also never realized that they were never really true friends in most people’s eyes. In my eyes, they were the greatest friends in the whole wide world. I started smoking and drinking just to fit in. These two were the absolute definition of peer pressure. Not only did they push until you did it, but they manipulated you until you chose to follow them. This is probably where I began to lose all my self confidence. They were two very pretty girls, and I was just the chubby girl that no guy wanted to be with. I watched these two with every single boyfriend they had. I was the third, if not fifth wheel for every date. I practically lived at their homes; I didn’t want to be home, so this is where I stayed.

Things started turning ugly at my mom’s house. After watching my two best friends demand and get everything they wanted with their parents, I thought I could do the same. Seeing how they were both practically the only child. One was the only child while the other was the only girl, so she got anything she wanted. They got everything they wanted. Since I wasn’t aware of the rules of different lifestyles back then, I would go home and demand the same. This is when the fighting began, and the thing my Mom knew what to do was kick me out and send me back to my Dad’s. I moved back into my dad’s house after only being at my mom’s for a total of seven months. I stayed at the same school because I refused to switch.

This is where everything continued from where it left off. I was caught in a daze of friendship that I would only learn wasn’t the greatest for me. I became deeply depressed by just seeing what those two had, and I didn’t. Money was always tough for my parents. I never got the best clothes or the best of anything for that matter. I was given the bare minimum to just get me by. I was teased horribly at school because of this. It was hard seeing my friends getting everything they wanted, and it was always the best.

We began drinking more, smoking more, and started to do drugs. I just wanted to fit in, to be wanted somewhere, by someone and not get pushed away. I began doing everything they ever asked me to do. If a problem came up, and they needed me, I was there without question. I would sit there, and be the ref for their relationships that they kept messing up with their boyfriends. I finally had my chance after this. I became like them. After that, I was accepted by not only the girls but the guys. Relationships in my eyes are completely pointless back then. We were just little children trying to be adults. I did everything for these girls, they didn’t do anything for me. I thought it was alright though. Deep down inside, I felt as though it was my duty to do everything for them because they were simply spending time with me, and giving me friendship. I was getting the attention I needed from them instead of trying to get it from my parents. I was never home; always over at either of their houses, therefore I was getting the freedom I needed away from my problems with my parents.

Pretty soon, this triangle got sided. Like any group of three people, one of the three is made to choose sides. I did this for two years. Pretty soon, it just got horrible. It was to the point where the two best friends I had, were fighting each other for my friendship. After a while, the tables were turned. I was the one left out in the cold. We got into a fight. They took sides with each other, and completely threw me down to the ground like I was nothing to them. I was beginning to fight with them at the same time as the fights started again with my parents. I couldn’t take confrontation. I didn’t like it at all then; I especially don’t like it now.

I started a deep phase of depression. One of the deepest depression episodes I’ve ever had. The day that they both turned on me, and both made me feel like a chump, I gave up all hope. I didn’t want to live anymore. I turned to the only thing I thought would help, a knife. I began slitting my wrists, going deeper and deeper with every cut. It didn’t hurt to me, for it was the only pain that I was allowed to control. I started cutting over cuts that were already there. I cried the entire time doing it. My tears and blood mixed to create a river down my arm. I figured that this wasn’t going to be enough. I didn’t have enough strength or will power to push hard enough to put the full damage of ending my life. I went into the bathroom and popped all the pills I could find. I came back into the front room, with arms wrapped around in tissue. I went online and tried finding someone to talk to. My friend Kristie was online, and she was the only one that was available to comfort me. She told me that she’d pick me up right away because my parents were gone for a few hours. My parents already knew that I was suicidal because of one of my councilors telling them. She told them, “If you ever find Nikkole hurting herself, you have to report it and get the help she needs.”

I told Kristie about the cuts. She didn’t know about the pills, no one knows about the pills. I asked that she didn’t pick me up and that I would be alright, she insisted so I wrote a note to my parents. It said, “Dad and Lindsey – I went over to my friends house for the night. I’m having a lot of problems that I cannot deal with right now. I just want to be with someone that can understand me. I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to spend the night over there. I will call you in the morning. If you need to talk to me, here’s the number. I had a fight with Jillian and Jill. We are no longer friends. They decided to turn their backs on me, and fight over stuff that wasn’t worth fighting about. I’ll call in the morning. I just need some time to think.”

My parents knew that I had to be upset. I guess my dad searched around the house and found my bloody tissues in the garbage. He called up Kristie’s house and asked me what was going on. I told him that I was fine. By the time I got there and got everything out, I was feeling alright and she had me laughing again. Later on, Kristie’s mom got a phone call. She came into the bedroom like she saw a ghost. She refused to tell us what was going on. Next thing I knew, there was two police taking me out to a cop car. I asked what I did wrong and they said, “For your attempted suicide attempt, we have to take you away.” That’s all they said.

By this time, I was scared. Obviously I didn’t do anything enough to be dead that night. The cuts were nowhere near deep enough; there weren’t enough pills other than to make me a little woozy. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. I was taken to the hospital; it had to been midnight by then. I was tired from all the crying and events that happened that day. I just wanted to go to bed. I was headed to bed when the cops came. I was left in a freezing lobby in nothing more than a pair of shorts and a small tank top. They forced me to talk to three different people, all whom were asking the same questions. By the third lady, I was no longer sad, but pissed. I was freezing my butt off, tired as can be, and held prisoner in this lobby that was locked and surrounded by guards. There was this guy there for rehab of drugs. He was completely stoned and he came over by me. He started rubbing up on my leg and wouldn’t stop talking to me. I called the guards and all they did was demand that he sit across from me in the room.

It was 3:00am, and I finally got to go to a room to sleep, so I thought. I was taken upstairs to the child section of the hospital. I had to talk to a therapist there for an hour, repeating the same questions that were just asked and written down not even an hour before. I was then asked to take a shower. I didn’t want to cooperate, I just wanted to go home and go to bed. I took a quick shower, and a lady knocked on the door. She asked if I could drop my towel and spin around she can report every scar, bruise, and cut I had on me. I asked if I could just show her everything, but she refused. Being self conscience I sure the hell didn’t want to. I was told either I cooperated, or I got strapped down and forced to do it anyways. I did it, while she wrote down on a chart every single cut, tattoo, and scar I had on my body. I felt manipulated. I felt violated. It was around four or five in the morning before I finally got put into a room with another girl who was asleep.

I woke up in an empty room. I just wanted to sit there all day long and not say or do anything until I was allowed home. A nurse came in and demanded that I got dressed in their clothes and sat in the living area and join in the activities. I had to listen to her, I had no choice. I sat in a room, with many other boys and girls. None of them were there for suicide attempt. They were mostly all runaways or kids that had major anger management problems. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, or being pissed at my parents for doing this to me, I decided to start having fun.

Every person I talked to, I began lying about things I wish were happening in my life. They ate the words like it was nothing. These kids had broken homes, more so than mine, and thought my life was a fortress compared to theirs. If only they really knew. I realize this now that I got this trait from my Mother. She’s a pathological liar, and a damn good one at that.

I didn’t hear from my parents until the next day. They told me that Jill was really upset about the whole fact that I tried killing myself. I laughed at her for her ignorance. I didn’t even want to see, nor speak to my Dad or Stepmom. They brought me some items to preoccupy my mind. I technically wasn’t allowed to have them. I’m not sure to this day why I ended up having them in my room, but I did. They told me that I wasn’t allowed to leave for another 72 hours. I told them to leave, and not come back until they were going to get me out of here. I started rage in anger at everyone in the hospital. I demanded my own room. I was only allowed one change of clothes inside my room with me, I had all of them. I wasn’t allowed to keep a pen or pencil in my room to write, I did. I don’t know how I got away with everything I did, but I do know that being in this place made me realize a lot of things. I learned the most important of all. I never wanted to go back. I vowed the day I left that I would never get placed back in to that hospital. If I had any say in this matter, it wouldn’t happen.

I continued to talk to the psychologist being analyzed looking for answers as to why I had done this. I don’t honestly believe anyone can find an answer for that. They diagnosed me with manic depression and advised me to see a new psychotherapist.

After I finally got out, I hated my Father. He kept insisting it was something he had to do. I wouldn’t listen. Jillian and Jill tried talking to me, I wouldn’t talk to them. I became a loner. I didn’t want anything to do with anyone. I didn’t talk to anyone, not my parents, not my friends, teachers, no one. I sat in my room, and just stared at the wall and thought all day long. I realize that I had to change some things in my life. I realized that in a month, I’d be starting high school. I’d be beginning a new life again. I realized that I never wanted to be put in that place again.

At school I thought I was going to be happy again. I was starting high school with a new outlook and new hope. I only found myself in a group that wasn’t good for me again. I became best friends with a new girl. She was a Goth that I went to middle school with.  She did drugs, she smoked, she skipped, you name it, and she did it. I found myself skipping school, doing drugs, and being a badass that didn’t care about a single thing in the world. My grades began to drop. I started skipping all my classes, getting suspended. Once again, I found myself practically living at this girl’s house. I revolved my entire life around her, what she wanted, and did everything she wanted me to do. I just wanted to be accepted in her life.

This was soon to end though. She liked this guy and this guy decided to give me the time of day. He wanted me to skip school to be with him. Seeing how he was the hottest guy in school, I dropped all my friends, schoolwork, and responsibilities to be with him. I didn’t care. For once in my life, a guy was giving me the time of day. I went to his house, and we ended up having sex. I lost my virginity to a guy that only used me as his senior bet with his buddies. I found out he was betting that he could sleep with the most freshmen that year. I lost my best friend to this. She was pissed, we never talked again. I never really talked to him again either. Once again, I was lost in my own world. I hated myself for everything that I did. I didn’t have any friends. I felt alone.

Our freshman homecoming dance came up and I decided to go with a few friends. I had no date or anything, so why not. I wanted to get out of the house and I didn’t need much of an excuse for that. Jillian and Jill were there. We took a moment to tell each other that we looked nice in our dresses. I guess that broke the ice for us to become friends again. Our friendship picked up right where it had left off, like nothing happened at all. We were hanging out every single day. I was skipping school and doing all the stuff that I shouldn’t have been doing. I had my friends back though, I didn’t care.

What happened between Jill and I was only the beginning of a tradition that we seemed to carry on for years. We would end our friendship in the summertime, only for it to start up again in the fall. We wouldn’t fight. We didn’t have a falling out. She would be too busy for me in the summertime. During the fall, she didn’t have anyone else to hang out with so I guess I became good enough. Like I had said before though, I let this happen because she was my best friend. The only friend I have ever had that could relate to everything. We were there with each other through so much, so I didn’t much mind it. I was used, and manipulated to do what she wanted. As long as I had someone to call my friend, it was alright. I just wanted to be accepted.

I finished the ninth grade but everything at home wasn’t back to normal again. The fighting and screaming started again. Things were said that shouldn’t even been mentioned. My father told me to get out. I was forced to live with my mother again. I had nowhere else to go. I was hurt by the fact that my father could just give up on me and make me go elsewhere. He didn’t want to deal with it anymore. He just wanted me gone. I guess that’s how I looked at it. I wasn’t worth the time of day for someone to work towards help me with the things I needed. I was only worth being told to go away, get out, and never return. I wasn’t worth it to them, to anyone.

When I moved back in with my Mom, it was different this time. My sister picked up on all the arguing and fighting I did when I was younger, and decided that I got away with it, so can she. She started doing the same things I did with my Mom. So, we switched places. She moved in with my dad, I moved back in with my Mom. This time I was alone and without having to share my bedroom with someone. I was considering myself as the only child of the house.

Things were really good then. I made new friends again once the school year started. I still had the occasional bad apples that made the wrong decisions for me, but I was nowhere near the point I was before. I became friends with this girl Nina. She was the sweetest, most innocent girl you could ever meet. She got straight A’s in school. She smoked cigarettes, but that was all the wrong she did. Nina and I became very close. I began spending a lot of time over there just like I did with my previous friends. I slept over there more than four or five days a week. Her house is the place everyone would come over after school to just hang out together. There was a huge group of friends that would come over to watch movies, play pool, and just hang out. Nina and I realized that we didn’t like the company of females very much. Every day we were surrounded by the company of five to ten guys a week. We had a lot of guy friends, that’s all it was. We were happy.

There was one guy in particular I had grown fond of. Nina knew him her entire life because were neighbors. I didn’t know it then, but I would later find out that he would be known as my first lost love. Jay was a very immature guy, not much of a looker, and wasn’t even quite popular with the ladies. He was mainly known as the “big brother every girl wanted”. Things started happening between the two of us. He started hanging out with me more, also started being the immature little boy towards me more than anyone else. He had this thing though, when his friends were around, we didn’t know each other. He was scared of what his friends would say about me, so he would completely throw me down to the dirt and be rewarded about it. I never did get a single apology about this. I felt as though I was in love though, so I let it continue however he wanted. If he wanted to use me, so be it. When we were alone, hanging out in Nina’s house, he was the most sensitive, sweet guy anyone could want. He used to tell me all the things I wanted to hear.  After a few months, I started to let him do whatever he pleased. He used me for attention, sex, and to keep himself happy. When there were people around, we left it our little secret. Very few people knew what was really going on. I thought there was so much more though.  During the summer before 11th grade, his mom scheduled his surgery. He was kept inside the house the entire time. We really stopped talking and seeing each other. I was deeply hurt by it. This is when he started saying how he could care less about me and how he never wanted anything to do with me.

I was heartbroken. This wasn’t the first time I got my heart broke by some guy, but it was the first time that the hurt and learning stuck with me. This is when things became more complicated. I started talking online again. Things were alright. I ended up moving back in with my Dad. While my sister moved back in with my Mom. I didn’t feel like being out much, and I ended up grounded a lot. I didn’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything again. I still hung out with Nina but I didn’t go over there as much because I’d see Jay and get upset. I spent majority of my time on the computer. I started doing web design and keeping myself busy. I was being productive and keeping myself out of trouble. I started to be more active in a chat room that I had talked in for years.

One night, while I was in the chat room I saw someone advertise themselves. The guy said, “Anyone wants to chat with a 18/m/west allis, who is the most sweetest and caring guy in the entire world?” I wrote him an IM and said, “Whats so sweet and caring about you?” This is what began it all. We talked online all day long for three days straight. We completely hit it off. After the third day, he called me on the phone. I was at Nina’s house at the time and he kept insisting that he wanted to meet me. After I finally agreed to it he came over at Nina’s house with his brother around midnight. When we talked on the phone, I mentioned how no guy has ever brought me flowers. He knew my favorite color was blue. When he had showed up he brought me two blue carnations and won brownie points with me. I had no clue what this guy was going to look like, remind you that I never seen a picture. It was dark outside; he was wearing a hat, and hiding in the shadows. We ended talking outside Nina’s house until 3am.

The next day I had seen him again. This time we met it was in the daylight. My other friend Nina and I picked him up from his house to hang out. I couldn’t help but stare at him. It was the first time I actually got to see him in complete view. He was stunning. I was just another girl, falling in love with a guy. A few days past, and Summerfest started. I went for the first time with my friends. I was with two lesbian couples and felt alone. I hadn’t talked to Matt all day. They insisted on me calling him and inviting him up there.

After a lot of convincing he agreed to come and it was going to be our first official date. I asked him to meet me at a specific time on the far end of the festival. He didn’t show up until four hours later. He was rude and nasty to my friends poking jokes and just having fun. It should have put huge red flags waving in front of my eyes that this was a bad guy and that I should stay far away. In my eyes, he was stunning. Here was a guy with amazing looks, and he was interested in me! I doubted myself and the ability of getting any guy because I didn’t think I was worthy. I had a guy who was interested in me. I didn’t want to let that go, no matter what.

He made me believe that he was far better than any of my friends could ever be. I stopped talking to them all just to make him happy. I wanted to spend a long time with this guy. He was the first guy to actually care about me. I didn’t care what my friends tried telling me, I only cared about my own happiness, and mainly his. School started up again, 11th grade. I began not to talk to my friends because of the brainwashing Matt did to me. In the end, I thought they were evil people that were taking advantage of me and that wanted me to be unhappy. He put into my mind, “If they were really your friends, they would realize that this is what makes you happy. No matter what happens, all that matters is that I’m happy.” I believed him. It didn’t matter what they saw, only mattered what I wanted. They were only trying to protect me from the controlling boyfriend I now had. I was completely unaware and was under his spell.

Matt started having me sleep over at his house every night. I stopped going to school to spend all my time with him. When I did appear at school, I got yelled at constantly by my friends and teachers. I didn’t want to hear what they had to say. I wanted the freedom to be happy and to be loved. I wanted freedom away from my parents for good. I wanted to just have a normal, happy life, and feel loved for once. I went back to his house, and refused to never return. I stopped talking to everyone. Only thing that mattered to me was him. I put my entire life into his happiness. It finally got to the point where I dropped out of high school to be with him. I told my Dad who I was currently living with at the time that I was moving back in with Mom. I packed all my stuff and had Matt come and help me. I moved it all at his Mom’s house. My mom let me lie to my Dad, to her; I was just going to be out of both of their hairs. I never spoke to my countless number of friends again. I never spoke to my Dad again. I occasionally talked to my Mom still, but I was under his spell.

He promised me the world and back then he was good to me. He started talking about how he wanted to spend his entire life with me. He talked about how we would someday have children. We were only dating a few months, and he wanted me to so badly have a child with him. He talked about how we should have children early. He wanted to be there for their entire lives. Be able to go out and do everything with them. He figured, if you started early then there would be no problem of being too old to do it.  I started thinking about this logically. I tried explaining to him all the responsibilities and troubles you have to go through.  How we would have to put our lives on hold while caring for this child and how financially unready we were. I was only sixteen! He figured he had a job, we had a place to live, at his mom’s I might add, and that we had our happiness.

That next month, he bought me a ring. He told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He made me believe every word he said. I was eating out of the palm of his hand, and didn’t realize how dumb my decisions would’ve been. Against my better judgment and because I wanted to make him happy, we tried to have a baby. I was only with this man for three months and I was sixteen years old! Here I laid with him every night in attempt that we would be blessed with a child. He wanted to be with me. He wanted to marry me. He wanted me to bare his child with him so we could spend the rest of our lives together as a happy family. Every month would pass, and I wasn’t pregnant. I would pray to god that it didn’t happen. I was playing with fire and eventually I was going to get burned. After a few months, his desire and obsession for having a child died down. We stopped trying. Until six months into our relationship, it happened.

We had sex one time. It was right before we walked out the door to go pick up his friend. It was the 10 minutes that would change my life forever. About 17 days later, I missed my period. Matt was excited. Every time around that time of the months he’d ask, “Are you late yet, are we pregnant?”

Well, once again, he asked, “Do you have your period, are you late?!” Instead of my normal answer of, I sadly said, “Yes.” I was scared, more scared than any other time in my entire life. He was absolutely ecstatic.  My mom and went to the grocery store together when I said I was craving cashews. She joked around in the car afterwards saying, “What are you, pregnant?!” I looked at her, and she showed absolutely no emotion. I told her that I could be, and she cried. I told her I didn’t want to tell her because I didn’t want to see her cry. It didn’t matter though. After Matt came home from work and came to pick me up she gave us some money so I could buy a test. We went home, and I took it. Matt put it on the top of the desk and said, “We’re not allowed to look until a full 5 minutes is up.” About twenty seconds later, he grabbed it, ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I just sat there, praying that it was negative. He came back into the room a few moments later with the biggest smile on his face. “Babe, we’re going to have a baby!” I started crying. I didn’t believe it. I grabbed the test, and stared at it for a long time. There it was on the test, two little light pink lines. I was pregnant. He asked me why I was crying. He was so excited and happy that I simply replied, “I’m just so happy.”

He hugged me and was so excited. I called up my Mom, and told her. She scheduled a doctor’s appointment to give the full verification of it being real. The thought had crossed my mind to do adoption or even an abortion. I thought about it for a long time, but everyone was way too excited. I just swallowed everything I had, and just continued to be happy.

About a month went buy when things started to change with Matt. The excitement went out the door. He didn’t want to be the only one working and that I had to go out and get a job. I applied at the only place that would hire me, Wendy’s Restaurant. I did get hired.

By that time, I was already very ill. When I become pregnant I get a disease called Hyperemesis. It’s extreme cases of nausea and vomiting during pregnancy. It didn’t help that Matt wasn’t taking care of me at all either. We weren’t allowed to touch food in his Mom’s house. I worked for two months. I worked for about two months pushing through the illness. I was working with food that nauseated me and made me so sick. It was to the point where I got so ill that I became dizzy and passed out.

This is where it went downhill. He stopped paying attention to me. He stopped caring that I was sick. He stopped caring that I needed to eat something. Matt’s mom would complain that he wasn’t taking care of me. The next day she’d bitch that there was no food in the house, saying it was us, when it was really her husband. It continued with her yelling at Matt about spending all his money to go out eat every night. It all came to an end, the complaining, and yelling, when she kicked us out of her house. I was four months pregnant, with a guy that stopped caring about me, other than when he wanted something, and with no place to live.

Matt and I moved into my Mom’s house for a week while we pulled some strings and got a small apartment in a bad neighborhood that my Grandma managed. It was a small efficiency apartment. It was one of the nastiest places in the world to live other than the street. It was no bigger than a living room area with a small kitchen and bathroom. Not to mention infested with cockroaches. Surrounding us in other apartment buildings was prostitution rings and drug deals going on. We heard gun shots quite often in the lobby at the front of the building and other various places. We had to run from our car to the building when coming home to make sure we weren’t mugged by the various homeless people that were scattered about. One time, we even had a homeless person try to break in to the window because the previous occupant was a drug dealer. I was less than 3ft away from him when he tried crawling in the window. Matt did nothing but stare at the guy. It was an awful place to live, but we had no choice.

After we moved in, I became extremely ill. I ended up quitting my job. I couldn’t work there anymore being as sick as I was. I was losing weight fast and I couldn’t stop throwing up. Matt was not thrilled and resented me for it. I put off, so called, finding a job, as much as I could. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep a job with how sick I was. There was nothing I could do about it.

Matt grew more cold and distant with me. I would tell him, “The baby is kicking! Come feel!” He wouldn’t even look. He’d roll his eyes when I insisted. All he cared about was a stupid online game. Pretty soon it got to the point where I laid on the bed, practically starving myself, and our son away as I completely got ignored by the guy that was doing all this to me. He would get an occasional bout, where he’d come cuddle with me, usually only when he wanted sex. I would forgive him for ignoring me the entire week, and be happy. Right afterwards, instead of laying there with me, rubbing my stomach feeling our baby, he’d get back online. He’d sit there and chat on a “secret” screen name, and wouldn’t let me know what is going on. He said it was because he couldn’t explain and it hurt him too much. I later found out that he is bisexual. He was chatting to men online about his fantasies and what he wanted to experience with them. Needless to say, I was absolutely disgusted, but he was the father of my child. I was stuck with no friends, no family that cared, and a deceitful man.

It only continued to get worse. He would blame me for not having money in the house. He said it’s because I spent it all. I didn’t ask for a single penny. I would simply ask to be fed once a day because he refused to keep food in the house. Due to the roaches, we really didn’t want to keep much food there. I started going to my Mom’s house every day to just make sure I was being fed and I didn’t have to worry about the roaches crawling over me. Not to mention the fact that I was scared to death to be home there by myself. People were constantly trying to bang down the door. I didn’t have a phone to contact anyone. I was just stuck.

The deceit only got worse also. He started accusing me of looking over his shoulder at everything he was doing. I was blamed for everything. Everything ending up being my fault, so in return, I completely felt bad for how I was treating him. I was brainwashed into feeling guilty for how I treated him. The worse part about this brainwashing is it seems it has never gone away. To this day, I’m still left to believe that I am at fault for all of his pain and sorrow and anything that has gone wrong. Not only him, but for everyone. I am under the impression that is something isn’t right with someone, it is completely my fault. I have a lot of guilt on my heart that just eats me up alive.

Matt never did show much are in my pregnancy. He didn’t take me to a single appointment, my Mom had to. He never showed up to any of the either. There was only one appointment that he came to and that was the ultrasound to find out the sex of our child. He told me before walking into the room, and many times previously, “I want a boy. I want a boy to carry on my legacy. If it’s not a boy; I’m not going to be happy. I honestly don’t know if I will want any part of this if it’s a girl.” That statement from him basically summed up the entire pregnancy in full. When we were at that appointment, the doctor looks at us and said “Would you like to know the sex of your child?” We both said yes. He looked at us, Matt squeezed my hand tight and said, “It’s a boy.”  I let out of a huge sigh of relief that it was. I didn’t think I’d be able to do this alone if it was a girl.

During the two day stay at the hospital during labor, delivery, and postpartum weren’t joyful ones. I went into labor, and it was my fault for going into labor after he got off an eight hour shift. It was my fault that he didn’t have the money to eat while at the hospital. It was my fault that I wasn’t going fast enough delivering our son because he was tired. He literally yelled at me the entire time. During the actual delivery, I watched as Matt lay on the chair, falling asleep, rolling his eyes, and yelling at me. It had nothing to do with me, or the fact that I was baring his child that I was about to deliver. It all had to do with him and the fact that he was so miserable because I chose this exact time to deliver our son.

I finally gave birth to Nickolas eight hours after getting to the hospital. Matt finally came over to us while I held our son in my arms. He looked down at his son, and that was all. He never gave a smile, or a “Congratulations Baby, you did it.” After all the excitement and Nickolas was taken into the other room for testing and to be cleaned off. Matt began yelling at me again. I stood up for myself for the first time and told him to knock it off and go to bed. I had to take care of the baby and get some rest myself.

He couldn’t wait to get me out of that hospital. That night, I got moved into a different room. Matt told me he was going to sleep in the hospital bed with me because he was exhausted from the previous night and the chair they had was not comfortable. I was forced to move over, and let him have it while I sat up another long night without rest. I went two days, and delivered a child without a single ounce of sleep. He wouldn’t allow it. He also refused to hold or touch Nickolas because he was far too fragile.

The last day in the hospital my doctor came in to check in on me. He asked how I was doing and was worried about me because I didn’t look so good. I told him I was in a lot of pain and purely exhausted. I never got my chance to rest while being in the hospital to heal. The doctor asked if I wanted to get an extra day to stay just to be sure that I’m alright with the exhaustion. Matt didn’t even give me a chance to answer, he instantly said, “No! We’re going home as soon as you release us, tonight if we can.” I guess I wasn’t able to get the extra day of rest I really needed. I wish I would have seen the abuse and pure torture he put me through. In my eyes, I was just grateful to have him in my son’s and my life. He was there, providing and taking care of us. In my eyes, he was a saint, and I was the sinner.

We went home that evening. We left the hospital about 4pm. I wanted to go home with my brand new baby, and get some sleep. Unfortunately, Matt had other plans. He had to take me and the baby to his work, to his aunts, to his moms, to his mom’s work, and a few other places to show off the new baby. I waddled all the way through it all, hearing “You look so good for just having a baby.” I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I was told to put a smile on my face, and be a proud mother. Matt made me walk for six hours, after just being in labor, in complete pain and no sleep for days. He didn’t care, he was doing what he wanted. When we finally got home at midnight, Matt didn’t offer to watch the baby while I rested. He passed out. Leaving me to tend for the baby and do all that needed to be done.

That continued for the rest of our relationship. I told him it was perfectly fine that I’d wake up every two hours while he slept since he worked, and I didn’t. I thought it was my responsibility to do everything for the baby because he was out in the world providing for us. Again, he made me believe that it was perfectly normal that I didn’t sleep a single ounce since he worked. My healing was a long and drawn out process because I never did get rest. I didn’t heal properly. I had lost over 50lbs during my pregnancy. He would come home and say that I didn’t do anything around the house and that I was being a lazy bum while he worked so hard at his job to provide for us and give us everything we needed.

About a month after the baby was born, we finally moved in to a new apartment. It was in a much better neighborhood and it was so clean. It was a small one bedroom apartment in a three family house. I loved that little apartment. It wasn’t the best thing every though. We didn’t have any furniture except for the very expensive desk that he had to have for himself and his computer. My Mom had bought us a futon so I didn’t have to sleep on the floor while I was pregnant. That was all we had. When we moved in to the new apartment he wanted the living room to look nice so we had the futon set up as a couch in there along with his desk. We were forced to sleep on two blankets on the floor in the bedroom. Nickolas never had a crib, he only had a bassinet. He refused to spend money on us, our house, Nickolas, or I. He would go out and spend elaborate amounts of money on a new stereo system for his car or a brand new screen for his computer. Once again, it was always about him.

He complained about everything. His expectations of me were completely unreal. He expected me to take care of the baby all day and night. He wanted the house completely spotless, laundry done, dishes done, and a meal ready and waiting for him. He also wanted me to take a nap when I got a chance so I wasn’t such a bitch. Not to mention he wanted me to do a bunch of levels on this online game that he was obsessed with to make his person better on it. When all was said and done, every single night he came home and made me feel guilty for not doing what my responsibilities.

Matt had also became very fond of playing games with me too. He would play mind games with me, not only to make me feel guilty about everything I’ve done to him, but to make me believe completely different things. When I confronted him about cheating on me with men and women online, he made it out to be that it was completely in my imagination and that I was making it up. He somehow twisted my words around to be completely opposite of what the truth was. I fell for it, every single time. Everything was a game to Matt. He purposely did and said everything like he was lost in an important match that he was going to win every time. He mastered his mind games and I fell for them.

Finally, I snapped. Something in my mind snapped one day and I stopped caring. I became a cold, heartless, mean person. I gave up. I got pushed to the point of caring about him just as much as he cared about me, nothing at all. By this time, I was never home with Matt. I reconciled with my Dad and started staying at his house. I had also got in touch with Jill and started talking to her again. I spent a lot of nights at her and her boyfriend’s house. He didn’t care. I was out of his hair. As far as he was concerned he had a girl to lay next to him at night while he lead this secret life online. He went out with his friends all the time leaving me at home to do the chores, have no life, and take care of the baby. I was seventeen years old, and I felt like I was going on thirty.

One of the final straws when it came to Matt is when things got physical. We argued more and more every single day. Eventually the arguments grew louder and longer. At one point during our argument Matt got so pissed off he threw something at me, and when I said something along the lines of, “Go ahead, and do it.” He took a shoe and started beating himself in the head with it saying I made him mental. One particular night, he started fighting with me while laying on the floor in the bedroom on “our bed”. He got so angry that he clenched his fists and screamed ready to punch me. I looked at him and said, “So help me god, you lay a finger on me we’re done.” He did. He slapped me across the face. I got up, started packing my stuff. I said it was over. He wouldn’t allow it. This continued on and off for quite some time. The abuse was usually only a slap here or there. Mainly he would grab me by the arms and push me down or push me into the wall.

On Christmas day, three months after Nickolas was born, Matt was supposed to pick me from my Dad’s house early that morning so we could go to see his Mom and his family for the holiday. I called after our traditional morning breakfast with my family, and he refused to get out of bed. He was up all night on the computer, chatting away since I wasn’t there. I was absolutely angered at the fact that he’d rather be sleeping then spending Christmas with his girlfriend and his son. I excused it, told him he needed his rest, and hung up the phone. Around 4:00pm, I called and asked him if he was going to take me to his Mom’s now. He said he was still in bed and wasn’t feeling well. I was fed up. I told him to not worry about coming to pick us up. I called his mom, and apologized for not being able to let her see her grandson on Christmas. I told her the problems we were having and how things were going lately. She’s always been very protective over me and liked me a lot. She wasn’t happy about the way her son was treating me.

Later on that night, Matt decided that he was going to pick up his best friend and drive around. I got a phone call from Matt around 7pm and he was screaming at me saying all sorts of mean and hateful things. I asked him what the hell his problem was and he replied, “Come outside so I can tell you to your face.” I was to the point of just being fed up with everything. I went outside, and he snapped. He started screaming at me that he went to his Mom’s house and as soon as he walked in the door she yelled at him for not taking her Grandson to come see him. He made his attempts to turn it all around to make it all my fault. For the first time in our relationship, I wasn’t going to allow it to happen. I decided at that time, on that day it was never going to happen again.

My original plan was I had talked to my Dad during Christmas and told him that we needed some time apart. I asked him if there was any way that I could move back in while Matt and I worked out our differences. He had agreed upon it before I had even had spoken to Matt. Well, I looked in the car and realized that his best friend was sitting there next to him. I went in to a rampage screaming at him asking how he could go see his best friend on Christmas Day before seeing his own girlfriend and his son. I look at him straight in the eyes and told him that it was over. I told him I would be by the following day to pick up my stuff and that I was moving out with my son.  There was no taking a break, it was we were done. The original plan was just thrown out the window with what he had pulled.

Matt sped off in a crazed maniac matter. He screamed out the window. “You’re a bitch, a cunt, and a whore!” My dad, who was upstairs in bed with the flu, ran downstairs jumped in his car after him. I kept trying to call Matt to talk to him about all of this, but to him it was just a game. He would pick up the phone, laugh at me, and hang up on me. I just wanted to warn him my Dad wasn’t pleased. All the while I was calling him; Matt and his best friend were destroying our house. He took everything that was mine and the baby’s and threw it down our hallway and the entire stairwell. Everything I owned was scattered down the stairs and thrown in the basement. This also included our futon which was lodged in between the walls because he threw it over the banister. He finally called me back and informed me that all my stuff was moved out. I had nothing to worry about.

My sister as over for Christmas and watched Nickolas and my stepbrother when my Dad arrived back home. I told him we needed to move my stuff out of there right that instant because I didn’t know what he was capable of. After making a few phone calls, I showed up at our apartment. I had my dad, his wife, my Mom, Jill and her boyfriend, my stepmom’s dad, and myself all ready to move the stuff out of my apartment. I walked in the door to find a futon over my head and everything I owned all over the entire hallway and basement. Everyone started moving everything and we had it out of there within forty minutes.

I walked in the apartment to ask Matt what the hell he was thinking. He sat there with a huge grin on his face like it was the biggest joke in the world. His best friend took me in the other room to apologize for what they had done and that he was sorry for everything that had happened. My Dad and Jill’s boyfriend walked in the room, standing next to each other attempting to talk to Matt. They’re not small guys, and quite frankly, Matt was scared. He started yelling “Just take my head and bash it in to the wall. Just beat the hell out of me, you know you want to do it.” My Dad simply looked at him and said that he wasn’t going to touch him. He said “I never want you to touch my daughter again. It’s time to grow up, Matt. It’s time to be responsible for yourself and your son.” He walked out.

I walked out that day left and left him with everything that was in the kitchen, his precious overly priced desk and computer, the blankets on the floor for our bed, and his clothes. He told me over and over that I left him with nothing, but technically, he left himself with nothing. He’s the one that threw everything out. He’s the one that decided that he was going to take all of my stuff and throw it out the door into the hallway. He did it to himself. I wasn’t going to let him make me feel guilty anymore, so I thought.

Matt and I tried to work it out over the next month. I gave him an ultimatum. I told him he either needed to be serious about making things work between us or find someone else to be with. Exactly one month later, he called me up, asked me if I wanted to know whether or not he wanted to find someone else or stay with me. I told him, “Fine, lets here your decision.” He put his new girlfriend on the phone, and said, “His decision is that he found someone else.” He broke my heart. I was devastated. I thought were making progress and I was still under his spell. We talked for over a month trying to make things work out. He told me he was going to try hard to make things work so we could be together as a family. He wanted to spend his life together with me. All the sudden, out of nowhere, he has a new girlfriend and he made a choice. He chose to walk away, find some other girl, and leave me and his son. That was his decision. Yes, I broke it off to begin with, but ultimately he made the choice to never try to get back together with me. I don’t know why I was so devastated. I was out of his trap. I was no longer going to be emotionally, physically, or mentally abused. Here I was, crying my eyes out wondering what the hell I did wrong to lose the man I loved.

After officially breaking up and being done with Matt when he had that girl call, I finally realized I had my freedom again. I was single, young, and ready to go out and have fun. The only problem I had standing in my way was the responsibilities I had of raising my son. I was living with my father, his wife, my brother, and my sister at the time. My sister had moved in with my parents shortly before I had moved in there also. It was my only escape route out of Matt’s controlling. It was really hard. I slept on the couch while Nickolas was in a playpen next to me. The house was cramped and I knew it wasn’t going to last long.

I was only seventeen years old, and had more responsibility than most twenty-five year olds. I wanted to go out, be with my friends again and regain my life. I lost everything when I started dating Matt. I wanted it all back, but it was impossible. My parents definition of strict was just outrageous. They treated me as though I was a convicted criminal. I couldn’t have a house key, I couldn’t come and go as I pleased. I wasn’t allowed to stay awake past 8pm, I had a bed time! I was an adult, with a child, and I was given less freedom than anyone I knew. Still to this day, I don’t understand why I was treated like that. Aside from moving out with Matt, which I later found out they knew about, I never gave them a single reason to not trust me.

I grew deeply depressed again. I wanted to go out and be a teenager. I started arguing with my family once again. I was so unhappy with my life and with the decisions I had made. I loved Nickolas with all my heart, but it was all so hard. I didn’t want to be a parent. I was forced in to it by a guy that wanted it all for himself, and then once it happened, he wanted no part in any of it. In my eyes, I was forced into the responsibility I was not ready for.

I started rebelling. I went out to party with the little friends I had left, drinking, doing drugs, and sleeping with guys. I hadn’t yet grasped the concept that this was no longer my life. My life would now consist of being a good mother, not a wild teenager. I didn’t want to believe it, nor would I let myself. I would ask my parents to baby sit whenever I could. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of back then, but I knew nothing else. My parents wouldn’t treat me like an adult who had a child, so I decided to act like a kid. I started to go to parties, and if my parents wouldn’t watch Nick, I’d bring him with me. He’d be asleep in the other room while I hung out at their homes being reckless. He was always taken care of, and was never put in harm’s way.  You can call me a careless, bad mother but I was young, and everyone makes mistakes. At least I can admit them openly and I’ve learned from them.

Everything slowly started to settle down and come together once I started dating a new guy named Devin. He was two years older than me and apparently far more educated. He was manipulative and deceitful. I wasn’t never officially with him. We weren’t an item. I was more just a toy for him to play with. I fell for him regardless. I was still on the rebound. I was also scared that being a young teenage mother, no one would want me. I began hanging out with him more and more. We started sleeping with each other. He had this way with him of telling me everything I wanted to hear, just to get whatever he wanted from me. I loved hearing those things; I didn’t want to let them go. I would let him do whatever, no matter how much I didn’t like being used. I had a guy giving me attention again, that’s all I wanted.

Things started getting rough at my Dad’s house when I wanted to go out he didn’t want me to. I wanted to go out and have a life. I wasn’t allowed to really date this guy because anytime we wanted to go out and do anything, I’d have to either bring Nickolas with me, or keep him home because we’d go places that a baby couldn’t go. I wasn’t allowed to talk on the phone or do anything for that matter. I wasn’t trusted and I didn’t like it. My Dad grew fed up with it once again and kicked me out.

I had moved back in with my Mom and had just received a job at Walgreens about a week prior. I was slowly piecing my life together. I was working, I was taking care of Nickolas, and I was seeing a new guy. The only problem I had was that I was still unhappy with my life. I’d stay online until the morning just trying to clear my mind enough to fall asleep. I wouldn’t be able to wake myself up until late in the afternoon. My mom had to take care of Nickolas in the morning because I couldn’t keep awake long enough to do it. I wanted to sleep my life away. I was so unhappy. Even though things were going quite well, I didn’t have any desire to live. Life was completely different from what I had imagined it would be at that time. I was supposed to be graduating in a few months with all my friends. Instead I was a drop out dead beat Mom who was too depressed to give a care about my own child. Pretty soon, thing with Devin and I hit a rough patch. I finally realized that I was being used for sex and attention, and that I was the only girl on his list that he used for this. He broke everything off and I grew more and more depressed.

My life started to consist of going to work when I had to and sleeping all day long. I felt as though I was neglecting my motherhood towards Nickolas. I didn’t want to live. I felt horrible for having my mother raise him. My mom grew very tired of the whole thing. She told me it was time I grew up and that I needed to realize what my responsibilities were. She basically thought I was choosing this life for myself. I couldn’t fall asleep with my racing thoughts. I was just doing what I could do; that was very little.

My mom didn’t care about anything at this point. She didn’t care if I lived on the streets or where I went. She kicked me out after quite the nasty fight we had had. She said that she was going to throw all my stuff out if I didn’t take care of it. I knew I would have to beg my way back into my Dad’s house so Nickolas and I weren’t going to be homeless. Once again, and for the final time, I moved in with my Dad and my sister moved back in with my Mom.

During all this Matt and I were having all sorts of problems. He’d stay in Nickolas’ life for only a short time before he’d disappear again. He’d see Nick once a week for a few months, and then not take him for few months. It was a bad habit he soon learned to keep. We fought constantly. I just wanted him to disappear. He paraded around all his girlfriends near my son. Once in which actually was trying to tell Nickolas that she was his new mommy. He was cold and heartless. I wanted nothing to do with him. He was playing one large game. He would take Nickolas when it was convenient for him or when he had to make himself look like he was a good father to his girlfriends. He would buy him all these elaborate things just to say, “Look at what I bought my son.” Then it was weeks before he was seen or heard from.

That ended up changing one late night online nearly ten months after we split up. We ended up in an in-depth conversation about what has been going on in our lives. Things started flowing out. It was all too strange. We talked for hours that night, and I didn’t feel like killing him. The next day I told my Dad I was going by his house, which shocked everyone, including myself. I took Nickolas over to our old apartment which he still lived in. Everything was bare. There was nothing but the desk, computer, and blankets on the floor I left him with a year ago. He had bought nothing and done nothing with the apartment that entire year I was gone.

We started talking more and more. I was on the rebound, I let myself in. He manipulated me once again to believe all his lies about love and the future. He said he wanted his family back and talked about how he never stopped loving me. Everything seemed like it was “meant to be”. I started doubting everything I had learned and taught myself during those months being way from him. I started questioning my reasons. Why aren’t I with the father of my child? Isn’t that how its supposed to be. You’re supposed to stay with him through thick and thin. That’s how it is supposed to go. If you have a child, you stay with that person. I started telling myself all these crazy things.

Soon enough, he asked me back out, and I accepted. Deep down inside, I was scared. I was scared of getting hurt again. I was scared of losing all my hope and faith and losing everything I learned. I still accepted his offer. We started dating once again. We sat together in our old apartment and I told him there was things he needed to fix and change. When I walked into our old apartment nothing was clean. There were old pizza boxes everywhere. He looked like he’s been living in a dump for the year. I told him he had to clean the entire house the next day. I made him promise me he would. I slept over that night and the next day he cleaned the whole house like I asked of him.

Everything seemed like it was going smoothly. Matt was proving himself worthy to me. Nickolas was adjusting to seeing his dad again, but something didn’t seem right to me. I didn’t feel comfortable around him. I didn’t feel comfortable being in our old apartment and sleeping there again. Every time I was over at his house, I wanted to leave and go home. There was something about the whole relationship and thought of being with him that didn’t rub me the right way. I was scared of being trapped. I didn’t feel as though we were supposed to be together. I especially didn’t have any feelings for him anymore.

One night, I had gone over there because he said he wasn’t feeling well. He told me he was having one of his migraines that he usually had no control over, and that caused him to be the meanest nastiest person ever. Against my better judgment, I went over there and he whined about his head hurting so I told him to go to sleep. Since Nick was asleep for the night and I was wide awake so I went online. I noticed everyone was talking about going to this party at my friend’s house. I started asking where and when it was. I had to get out. I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to be there. I felt trapped, alone, and scared.

I did something that night that I would have never done any other time. Something I would have never expected myself to do. I told the girl who was having the party that once my friend Steve got there to have him come pick me up and bring me to the party. He came shortly, and I left. Nickolas and Matt were sleeping and I got up and left. I showed up at this party. I have no idea what my intentions were being at this party. I honestly, to this day, don’t understand why I even went. I had a sick boyfriend at home with a splitting headache and my son was asleep in the playpen. Matt had no clue I had left. I didn’t leave a note. I did try to wake him up to tell him I was leaving, but he was incoherent. I left my son and my boyfriend and went to this party. I ended up having a lot of fun. There were a bunch of people there from the chat room that I had spent so much time throughout the years.

The next thing that happened comes straight out of a romance novel; my true love walked into the door. Mike and this guy David came in shortly after Steve and I got to the party. Mike wasn’t supposed to be there that night either. David had said he was bored in the chat room and he wanted something to do, so Mike offered to drive him to the party. It was completely out of the normal for him to do this. I sat there, partying the night away not giving a care my boyfriend and my son were sleeping at home. I had fun flirting with the guys and laughing with the girls. I sat there watching Mike as he stared at me the entire night. We had hardly spoken before then, and I had never seen him before. I enjoyed myself at the party. I never did say a single word to Mike. I just noticed him watching me. That’s all that happened. We stayed for a few hours before Steve gave me a ride home.

Later that night, I went back to Matt’s house to find him sitting up waiting for me. He was pissed that I had left and said he didn’t know where I was. He had all the reason in the world to me mad at me. I mean, I left the house, without a single word telling him where I was going. He woke up finding me gone. I explained to him that I had told him I was leaving to go to a friend’s house for a little while because I was wide awake and that he was too sick to care anyways. He said whatever, went back to sleep.

The next morning, while Matt was cleaning the house, I went online to see how everyone was feeling after the party. Mike and I started talking. We talked a little bit while I was at Matt’s house, but once I was at home we started talking for hours online. I realized that he had just gotten out of a really bad relationship. He vowed that he’d never even look at a girl that already had a boyfriend, let alone a child. It was one of his “personal rules” for himself that he had set. No girls with children. We got to know each other really closely, very quickly. We shared everything there was to know about one another. We hit it off completely. I had a boyfriend, not even a boyfriend, but the father of my one year old son at his house thinking we had a perfect relationship going again. That we were all going to be a family again.

There are some things that happen that are completely out of your control though. Mike and I were drawn to each other. We couldn’t help but spend hours upon hours talking to one another. There were times where we started sharing information about ourselves and then question, “Why did I just tell you that?” We started to fall for each other. Before the party, he was trying to get back together with his ex girlfriend. I was back with my son’s father. Here we were, falling completely head over heels in love with one another.

Pretty soon, I decided that Matt and I weren’t going to work. I was falling head over heels in love with this other guy and I was still with Matt. I believe we were together a little less than a month, one week after the party, when I called it quits. I told him I wasn’t ready for a relationship with him, and that I had found someone else. I also told him I couldn’t handle the lies again. I found out he hadn’t paid any bills since I left and since I had a job he wanted me to move back in and help him pay everything back. He was furious. I didn’t care. I had a man that was by my side that was great for me. Not only did he lie, or manipulate me, but he was genuinely a good guy. We connected in such a way that I didn’t think was possible. He decided it was too much for him to handle, and he disappeared from Nick’s and my life for a few months.

Mike and I started talking more in depth with our conversations each day. We found out that we had a lot of mutual friends. His ex girlfriend was best friends with my very close friend Alexis. We also found out that Alexis was starting to date one of my very close friends Todd.  It worked out perfectly. We all started hanging out together and having lots of fun. I was able to bring Nickolas sometimes because they all understood I had a child. My life at home wasn’t too bad because I wasn’t asking them to babysit all the time either.

Mike and I started dating on Jan. 8th, 2005. He felt drawn to me as much as I felt drawn to him. I was very skeptical though. After being in two bad relationships I was scared that this was going to be just another one of those. Something told me it would be different this time. I told my Mom shortly after we started dating that “he was the one”. He threw his personal rule about dating a girl with a child aside and started dating me. We were madly in love. Everything was perfect.

A few months later, I had got kicked out of my dad’s house once again.  I went back to my Mom’s house once again having no other place to go. This would be the last time I had switched houses between my parents. Things turned sour after only a month of living with my mom though. She didn’t want to let me have Mike come over, but she didn’t want to let me out of the house to see him. She was extremely money-hungry too. I was working at Walgreen’s still and she wanted me to start paying ridiculous amounts of rent and buy her everything. She’s always been this type of woman, but I never really got a feel for it until she started demanding I give her all my money. I don’t want to get in to full details behind the way my Mother is. I honestly could write an entire book about it.

I was madly in love and she wouldn’t let me be happy. That is how she is. She doesn’t want anyone to be happier than she is; which is always because she’s miserable. She continuously threatened to kick me out. I was eighteen years old now. She figured it was time to grow up, be an adult. My entire life, in my both of my parents eyes, as soon as I turned eighteen I was no longer a problem to them. I heard my entire life, as soon as you’re eighteen you’re not our problem and you’re out the door. Here I was, eighteen years old, with a new boyfriend that I was trying to take things slow with, and they wanted me to move in with him. Didn’t they learn anything the last time that happened?

After a few months of fighting, I was able to get myself a low income apartment. My Mom wasn’t happy that the waiting list was so long and that I had to wait a few extra weeks before I could get my apartment. She wanted me out the door, then and there. She kicked Nickolas and I out once again. I was forced to move in with Mike’s parents house for a few weeks. Isn’t that awesome? I knew the guy only a few months, his parents only a few weeks, and I had to live with them with my son, because my family didn’t care.

I moved into my very own first apartment in July of 2005. I was finally free of my parent’s rules. Free of getting kicked out of their houses every six months. I was a free woman to live my life. I no longer had to worry about anything. I had the ability to make my own rules. I had stability in my life. The stability I needed.

By now, my relationship with Mike was soaring. We were still madly in love. He adored Nickolas. His parents also accepted Nickolas and me with open arms. The loved Nickolas as though he was their own grandchild. I was truly happy for the first time in my life. I had a very loving boyfriend and a son. I was out on my own, living my own life. I had a fairly stable job. I did it; I finally overcame all the heartache and hardships. I am so grateful for the blessing of meeting Mike. He understood me. He understood I had ups and downs. He is my perfect balance. When I’m upset, running my mouth saying everything I have to say, he sits there patiently waiting for me to finish. He then tells me that he’s sorry and we make up. I honestly felt from the beginning that we were meant to be together.

My relationship with my family started to change after I had moved out also. Now that we weren’t apart of each other’s lives every single day and had the ability to hang up the phone, we grew closer. I have had a lot of ups and downs with my parents since I had moved out. We have a few falling outs throughout the years. In the end, I still call them whenever I need something, or just need someone to talk to when I’m looking for guidance. I’m just happy they no longer have control over me.

Mike and I became engaged to be married in April 2006. He proposed to me in front of Cinderella’s Castle during a trip to Walt Disney World with his family. It was amazing. I really couldn’t have asked for more. We spent a lot of great times together.

Our relationship has hit a few hard spots though too. We haven’t always been perfectly in love. After I had got a new job, life was hectic and stressful for us. We hit a pretty low point in our relationship that I believe was entirely my fault. I don’t know if I was in a completely manic state or not, but nothing he did was good enough. I started to pick fights with him just to get attention and get a rise out of him. Worse was that I was starting to flirt with the other guys at work; I liked the attention I got from them. It only caused me to think poorly of Mike. I thought everything he did was wrong. Nothing he could do was right.

We were nearly to the point of breaking up when I found out I was pregnant again. It was a surprise to the both of us. I was scared to death to tell him. I knew he didn’t want children. I knew I wanted another baby, but I didn’t think that this was a good time. I honestly believe someone higher up knew something we didn’t though.

When I became pregnant, I got Hyperemesis again. I grew very sick. I knew it was going to be different this time. Mike was going to take care of me. I was forced to leave my job, that I really loved, and be put on short term disability. It caused a lot of stress in our house, but I didn’t have any choice. I had to stay home and care for Nickolas the best I could while I threw up twenty to thirty times a day. I was put on medication and was hospitalized to ensure that I had the proper hydration because I became dehydrated so much.

During this entire time with me being sick though, something happened between Mike and me, we grew closer. We started to care about each other again. We started to spend time together and ask how each other’s days were. Day by day, we started to fall in love with one another.

Our relationship grew incredibly strong once Mikhail was born. I was extremely worried about how he would be with having a new baby in his life. He was terrified, but excited all the same time. Mike is one of those types of people that are very quiet and doesn’t show many emotions. A lot of people don’t even think he talks. They think he’s a mute. He had a way of showing that he was extremely proud of me and his new son without having said a word. That’s why I honestly believe someone knew something more than us. Fate knew that if we brought a child into the world, when we did, we’d grow closer together once again.

Today, Nickolas, Mikhail, Mike, and I are all living happily ever after. Well, for the most part. We are still currently living in my low income apartment I originally moved in to when I got my new found freedom. I never went back to work due to the cost of child care, but I miss it every day. I’m a struggling stay at home mom with bipolar disorder that I haven’t gotten the proper care for. I say I’m struggling simply because I haven’t decided whether or not I like being home or like being at work. I like the feeling of being able to buy and provide for my family. I hate having asked Mike to do it all. I’m still learning though.

I’ve learned a lot about relationships from being with Matt. I vowed after I was with him I would never end up with another guy like him. Luckily, I found Mike before having to worry about that.  I resent the fact that my childhood, freedom, and all my friendships were ripped away from me when I met him. I’ve also concluded, he will never give up the mind games or grow up. I learned I am the way I am today because of a lot of the things I experienced being with him.

I am extremely cautious. I find myself apologizing to Mike for not cleaning the house, or doing my responsibilities with the kids; not because he’s yelled at me, but because I feel guilty for it. He could care less, and in my mind it’s a big deal that I have to correct. I am constantly worried about his happiness and whether or not he has everything he wants. I haven’t gotten through my head that Mike does not treat me like Matt did. He loves me, he doesn’t control me. He understands, and I’m paranoid.

I know that I’m a good person, have a big heart. I wear my heart and all my emotions on my sleeve and let the world know them. I have figured out a lot of why I do the things I do, and where they originate from, but that’s the one thing I haven’t figured out yet. Why I am so open, honest, and willing to share what’s going on with me. I keep making the same mistakes when I should have learned from them the first time. I have a lot of psychological problems inside my head that I cannot help or deal with on my own.

I have finally accepted the fact that I do have a problem with my bipolar and I’m working on changing it and taking care of it. I’m still having a hard time understanding that life is short and I have stop reliving in the past and worrying about the future. I know what it feels like to truly be in love. How to fully be able to give your heart to the one you love, without any remorse, regret, and especially fear. I’ve also learned how to trust a person completely without any doubt.

I still have major problems accepting that this is my life. I look back and think about what life would have been like had I never met Matt that one summer night. I think about it way more than I should – which should be never. I am grateful for everything I have today. I’m grateful to be once again head over heels in love with Mike and how he’s the one for me. I’m grateful to have two beautiful children even though sometimes I get upset that my childhood and freedom is no longer here. I really do have a hard time accepting that it is my responsibility to take care of their lives.

I have overcome a lot in the past years. This is just the beginning. Every couple of years, I come back to this autobiography and add more that has happened. I then reflect on what I’ve learned and where I’ve come. The current year is 2010. I am 23 years old and this is my current life. I have a long way to go, a lot to overcome, and a lot of wars to fight. It’s not going to be easy, and I’m going to want to give up. I made it through all of this, everything you’ve read, I survived. I just have to remember, I can survive anything because I’ve overcome so much.