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I was by no means the perfect daughter in my early twenties, and growing up I tried so hard to make my family proud, but no matter what I did it was no use, because my dad wanted no reminders of my birth mother in his life… Yet there I was; just a constant reminder of the disaster that she was. This is my story in just a brief version, and let me start from the beginning… almost the beginning.
There was a time when I was a normal girl; when everything was happy, and it appeared that I was going to have a bright future. But there was a dark secret that was hiding deep within, and it wasn’t until high school when it came out. I was molested as a young child; nothing was done about it though. I was forced to just deal with it, as well as the fact that I was growing up without my birth mother… maybe that is why my life took a vicious turn down a dark path…
It wasn’t long after high school that I found myself homeless, and a drunk, as well as an addict. In the Chicago area no less… and let’s just say that things happened. I made mistakes, and got in with a rough crowd. Which inevitably led to me being; and mind you this doesn’t come easy to say. I have tears in my eyes as I am typing, but I was brutally raped by two gang members. However, I am by no means a victim… after everything, I consider myself a survivor. However, after that, I overdosed, and it was that near-death experience that woke me up. I knew that I needed to make a change, so I moved to New York.
Now I am a twenty-nine-year-old college student with an apartment, and two cats, that suffers from severe anxiety, but every day I work through it. And even though I have been clean/sober for a few years now, I still attend meetings. Because with stuff such as that you have to stay on top of it. The only thing is that I have not seen my family in about ten years—although I am planning a trip to go see them. My family, including my dad, step-mom, half-sister, and half-brother. They have never come to visit.
I am nervous as hell, because growing up was all about living up to their standard, and needless to say my young adult life was very tumultuous. In fact, the last time I saw my father he called me a disappointment, and no matter how much I say sorry, I feel as though there is no point because I should apologize for being born. My mom didn’t want me, and my dad could barely stand the sight of me unless we had company. How do you say sorry for running from your problems, or turning to a high to avoid feelings?
So ten years later I am going to see my family again as a sober adult and college student. If I can afford it of course, because right now I am about five hundred bucks short since I have bills and such. But after everything I have overcome I have faith that this will be a piece of cake… except my family does not know me; they never really did. So this really is going to be a learning experience. Maybe it will be the last time I see them, or maybe not. I just hope my family likes me… in all my imperfect glory.