Eat. Lie. Laugh.

Depression and low self esteem was my constant friend.  I was familiar with depression and migraines and had been for years. Even though I wanted something different, I didn't know something different. I was never a "woe is me" type of person, but I was still miserable. First the yelling and hitting, then the migraines, then the vomiting. I learned to vomit just by thinking about it. I regularly saw Dr. Dumbass or was taken to the ER for Demoral shots as migraines. As usual, my mom was super nice when I'd get sick. After she caused me to be sick. Looking back now, I can see the cycle of abuse very clearly... tension builds, incident occurs, reconciliation, calm.  (Even after I went to foster care and the migraines stopped... I continued to vomit out of habit for several years into my marriage. I weighed 98 pounds on my wedding day and never really felt energetic).

Demoral was a certain escape and a dreamless sleep. I relished a time to sink into oblivion.  Dr. Dumbass put me on blood pressure medicine to try to control the migraines. Since the issue wasn't about my blood pressure, and Dr. Dumbass continued to up the dosage at every migraine, I was eventually on enough meds to stabilize a 400 pound hypertensive man.  S.T.U.P.I.D. My blood pressure began to bottom out causing me to be lethargic and even more depressed. The hospital finally told my mother Dr. Dumbass was going to kill me.

One thing there was no shortage of our apartment complex was pot/pills/alcohol etc. The summer of my 13th birthday I smoked my first joint. Everyone I knew got high. There was a sweet girl and her husband with two very young children who lived upstairs. She cooked mashed potatoes every night and I'd always sneak in and get a bowl of them. She was always kind to me and seemed to be glad for company. I always left her apartment before her husband got home. They got high and were nice people. I began to see pot as just something people did for relaxing, fun and entertainment. It was a rare day that you didn't go outside and smell it. My mom and step-dad smoked it. His dad smoked it too. What's the big deal right?

I began babysitting for a few of the neighborhood parents and usually they would smoke it right in the living room before going out. No one even hid it. They'd smoke it out on the porch, in the kitchen, in the living room... it was like smoking cigarettes. One of the women I would babysit for always talked about how she got the munchies after smoking. She said she couldn't pay me for babysitting, but would give me a joint when she got home. I didn't care. I just wanted out of the house. She said I could use some munchies.

I talked my mom into letting me go to the skating rink the next night and arranged to ride with my friends. I went to another girls house to get ready. I think my mom was glad I even had a "friend". I was definitely anti-social and sometimes stuttered when I'd try to talk to people if I was especially nervous. Pot was GREAT. I laughed, I talked, and I ate. I drank a whole pitcher of Kool-Aid and my new friends laughed at me chugging due to having "Cotton Mouth". They laughed harder as I leaned over the balcony and immediately spewed the whole pitcher back up. My body wasn't used to having that kind of volume thrust on it. I had been nit-picking my food until my body had it's own ideas of what was allowed in an what wasn't and munchies be damned.

Now having a few "friends" wasn't something I was used to and lying came naturally.  I'd spent years lying to cover my ass at every turn. I'd spent a good amount of time daydreaming up fantasy worlds to live in to escape my own life. I'd learned to keep secrets and lying was a way to develop a world I'd like to live in. As the summer passed, I developed a crush on an older boy across the hall from our apartment. He was the brother of the residents who lived there and I'd often babysit for them. Night time babysitting was easy. Kids were put to bed and I basically watched TV until parents returned. We'll call my crush Nasty Boy. Nasty Boy was bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. He was also about six years older than me. Another skill I developed through the years was flirting. I'd heard my mother more than once talk about what a seductive child I was.

I put my skills to work and loved the challenge of trying to get Nasty Boy's attention. I told him outlandish lies about being a model when I lived in Missouri and said I'd gone to modeling school. He laughed, knowing I was lying, but didn't call me out on it. He just let me spin my web of deceit.

[I believe that children lie for only a few reasons. 1. to cover their ass. We've all done that. Usually parents cause this type of lying by asking children stupid questions like.. "Did you do that" or "Why did you do that". If you want your kids to lie... ask those two questions. 2. to build their self esteem aka Fantasy Lying - self explanatory and finally 3. to control their environment. Kinda goes with 2. ]

Lying would by my friend for the next ten years or so. I really thought people believed this shit too. "Oh, I recorded this song wanna hear it"... "Um, isn't that Janet Jackson's new release". "Wtf... don't you listen to KISS? What do you know about Janet Jackson"? "Hello... MTV"?. 

I was out of touch with reality. But that was okay cause I could just smoke a joint and laugh. And laughter felt wonderful!