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An essay of my life. Janice Elizabeth Salvador.
It all started August 5th, 1990, my birthdate. Actually, no it started way before that; before my parents fell in love, before they were born; before their parents were born. I dont know exactly when. Lets just say it was quite a long time ago, and its all in the genes.
Many people have problems in their life. Actually all people have problems in their life. All people have certain expectations, certain principals, certain life styles , opinions, the list is endless. People are the worst imperfection. An actual blessed imperfection. Everyone serves a purpose, a reason for being here. No matter at what level; "high" or "low" they all carry a respect. And that level varies as well as the respect outsiders carry for certain types of people. We dont have the right. We are all supposed to be equal. And I am just as much as a person as anyone else is.
I guess we should start with the most physical painful part of life. My life, my birth, my mother. Which obviously anyone who knows their mother is very fortunate, as am I. Even though all of her lifes experiences, losses, and pain; she decided to raise me anyway. My mother has made it through a great deal. But i cant say it hasnt affected her. And i cant say that shes made it through all of it yet. One day i hope she does. She is an extraordinary woman. But of course i should think that of her, she is my mother. I have never been worried about impressing heror trying to be her perfect daughter, that was how i felt about my father.
My mother and my father are the people who you would call young, dumb, and in a rush, in love. And obviously here i came. They struggled raising me. Ive lived in many different homes. I think I lived in over a dozen before I was a year old My mother was extremely depressed from the time i was born until i was about ten. She took an enormous amount of anger out on me. And had become the type of mother/parent she promised she would never be, a lot like her mother and father. I always felt as if to my mother i was a burden. A good for nothing child. But to my father i felt like an angel. I had a wonderful relationship with my father. Or so i remember.
Now before i was born my mother was in an abusive family; mentally. physically, emotionally, with bother her mother and her father. She also had a younger sister, who suffered as well. My mothers father, my grandfather, was a truck driver. A drunk, dishonest man filled ith wisdom and a good soul that he never used. He was very succesful, but never stable. Never capable of love or compassion. My mothers mother, my grandmother, was addicted to drugs, for i dont know how long. Also dishonest woman with a good heart she never chose to listen to. She was very dependant on men. and let life pass her by. She never tried to be someone. She believed in the old ways. The man being the provider, the man being "the man".
Lifes problems stem from the past.
Lifes successes are a broken pattern
I lived with my parents until i was eight. They divorced in 1996, but stayed togther for two more years. I never knew the divorced until 1998, I was eight years old. My father moved out given the ultimatum to be a family man or a bachelor. I guess he chose the bachelor life. Well he ended up with me and my brother anyways. My mom got caught up in things and turned to drugs. I lived with my dad for about six months. Until he told my mom to get out and take us with her too. For a little while we lived with my moms friend Jeff. After that we ended up in a shelter, for 28 days. We ended up in an apartment in Mount Clemens, off of Clinton River. It wasnt the nicest but it sure was better than the shelter. We moved out of that place, I believe because of someone my mom let back into her life that wasnt very safe to be around. His name was Scott. Definitley not one of my favorite people. We ended up moving into the trailer in south warren. I dont remember why we moved out of there but we ended up living with my grandmother. My grandmother wasnt taht supportive . She put my mom through a lot for the short time she lived there. Which was about five months. My mom and my brother moved out, but I stayed; regretably. I lived there for one whole year. I moved out, because of my grandmothers fiance. He asked me one morning before school an unbearably innappropriate question. I was in such shock. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out except and overexpressed "no". He replied with an innocent, "Okay, sorry, I was just asking." I had known him for nine years of my life. I was eleven years old. I told my mother what had happend two days later. I left. I attended court. He was given a short sentence of three to four years of probation and 25 on the sex offenders list. And the last that I have seen or heard from my grandmother was in the court room. A hug goodbye and an I love you. She married him One year later. After I moved out of my grandmothers house I obviously moved back in with my mom. Which at the time was in Detroit. She had met a guy named Dennis Bohannon; nick name, Bo. He was a security gaurd for Eminems movie, eight mile, which was filmed in the trailer park my mom lived in. He wasnt a very healthy person for my mom. He was also into drugs. We lived there for a while. During the time I lieved there I witnessed a house burn down, a man get searched in my living room and beat around, along with other things i forced myself to forget. Eventually, we moved out with my future stepdad. My mom had met him on the internet on Bo's cell phone. Eventually, she decided to meet dan and my brother and I were present. I wasnt so sure of him because of the previous people in my life. Less than four months later they were married. And a month before that my dad was married to a woman that I strongly disapproved of from the very beginning. But what did I know, I was only thirteen.
Up until then I hadnt had too much contact with my dad. Things were pretty good living with my mom and Dan. But i had always suffered from something tearing away at me. My mother sheltered me from almost all ways of the world. I was not allowed to have friedns or to visit them. Eventually, I spoke out, but not with words. I attempted homicide and suicide. I was immediatly admitteeed into Harbor Oaks Mental Hospital. I was a partial patent. I went there for 14 days. Monday through Friday, 9:00am to 3:00pm. I learned a lot while i was there. I was diagnosed with major depression. I was prescribed meds. My "happy pill". that made everything far away from reality. After the two weeks. I was sent to a Crisis Center. And put into intense therapy. it definitley helped. And was the way that i got to go live with my dad. My therapist suggested it. And my mom signed over custody. I lived there for almost three years. It was the most memorable three years of my life. But i was intorduced to a whole nother world. A world of lying, addiction, and carelessness. A world that my mother had hid from me. I think that the things that happened there I could never really talk about. lets just say that it added to my wisdom and outlook. And ill never be the same. Ill never lead the same life, my so called role models chose to live. I dont know how they wake up every morning and presue on with life miserably living in some fantasy world ont he surface of their skin.
The obsitcals and struggles of the world are greatly unbearable and unbelieveable. But there are also such treasures. Things that to us sometiems the simple things are little miracles that we haev grown to ignore> i used to believe that wisdom could only come form the over aged. Avutally it makes a hwold lot of sense. But it is only with experience. And many elderly people have not learned or experienced the things that i have. And I am not miserable about it. I am actually very thankful to know the things that I do at the age of sixteen. But I will admitthat i am missing out on so many things i wish i could experience. But this is a part of me and my life that i have. Im glad for it all.
8-9-06
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