Menu Home

Chapter 8 “The Knife”

“Why is it no one seeing me.”  I haven’t even got to high school yet and I feel nobody is reminding me that I’ve been loved and supported. I haven’t heard much of my mom over the years and I come to learn that her mental health wasn’t something I could change. I was changing thou, I was getting boobs and of course the infamous menstrual cycle. I have moved to another school to finish up grade 7 and eight. I was a popular child I was a fly by the seat of my pants, take chances, living on the edge. I wasn’t a stranger to punishment, I’ve already been in trouble with my parents, confused in the skin that I am. Life has been living in fast forward for so long and our life such an upheaval. My brother and I were really too young to understand the logistics of mental health, love and the true meaning of family. We already had realized we didn’t have the support from our father. We loved him , he tried. Just not hard enough, in my books.  I don’t remember many times doing things with my dad, or even having him sit down with me and just talk.  We had the odd juice stand at the end the driveway hoping the neighbours would contribute as they mowed their lawns. One time, I do remember I wanted to learn to play catch and I bugged. Yes, we out to the backyard and we played catch. I was facing the west and as the sun went down, the sun was in my eyes. 3 pop throws and 3 balls to the same eye, I was done. Crying and mad, my career of learning the art of baseball was tainted by a swollen, bruised, painful eye. That’s all a daughter wants to be “Daddy’s Little Girl” a title , I tried hard to obtain through all means. The commercials of Fathers swinging their daughter in the air, picking daisies and cuddling reading stories. I get to witness this phenomenon daily in my “own” home. Our mom was dealing with her own mental health struggles and selfish ways we really had to rely on each other as she can’t fill a roll of a Mom.

The step kids have a good support system, their mother put them first and so she should. Her job is to protect them, my dad’s job was to protect us. It didn’t take long after the honeymoon phase to learn that it seemed another hidden agenda was prominent in the future. A future that would leave two innocent children alone in the world to deal with the aftermath of a shitty upbringing. Two parents that really didn’t give a shit about their children, how they would grow up, how they would feel as an adult and it would affect the relationships that they try to build as adults. Often times I’d go to the park across the street and swing on the swing sets and feel the breeze under my feet. To the left of me was my first elementary school we went to kindergarten to grade 5. It was a school ground where I had my first kiss, I have a crush on a little redhead named Dwayne and we were inseparable for a little while. But as I look at the house in front of me and I know I didn’t grow up there with no memories it was still a hard pill to swallow. I’ve attempted everything from gymnastics to judo ; piano lessons to Tom boy sports. Trying to be Michael Jackson, to Queen Pageant Contestants. I come to learn I enjoyed hanging out with boys more than girls. I felt I was able to be myself, I wasn’t your typical girl. We play basketball in the driveway, and ride our bikes down the monkey trails and back again. But the comment was made to me about hanging out with boys and being a slut. I did have some friends, but it wasn’t until high school until I can find like-minded individuals.



In Grade 7, I was academically succeeding. And I had an earlier run-in with the teacher. I guess that must be the grade are you start to get curious about the other sex. I found an obsession with men in underwear. I was still a virgin and I didn’t understand yet men’s genitals. But I was in art class, I had an excellent supply of Sears catalogues and a pair of scissors and the glue that used to come out of the rubber top. Do you remember those glue bottles?
The infamous Gochie pages were born and it was something that will remain A chuckle amongst us girls. This winter when I went through a major depression an old friend sent me a wonderful page that she made for me to put a smile on my face and it worked. I think I was lost all my life, lost trying to find out who I really was. There’s a reason for everything, the reason may come to shock even myself.
I think I was just learning my limits.
As the academic kindergarten to grade was closing in, I had already been removed from my first school and put in another school in grade 3 as the teacher wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom and I had to P my pants on the floor. My marks are terrible in grade 3 and there is no reason for it really. No teacher should ever shame a child when they have to use the washroom. That one year I was in another school I try to make friends but I was unsuccessful and I ended up back at the elementary school I started at. I believe my parents divorced when I was in grade 5 or six in those years are a bit of a blur.

Going back to Grade 8 is when things started to change for me. There are moments in our lives that are marked so deeply we will never forget them. Those are the moments that shifted who we are and what we believe in. Those moments are always momentous or to be celebrated but they’re a reminder of an impact in time. Things have already been going sour in the house, I never really seen my dad and stepmom in love I think it was a rebound relationship, some people can’t be alone. It was my grade 8 graduation and I was pretty happy. I walked across that stage and all I wanted was my dad in the to smile and clap. Hand me a congratulations card but instead my wishes were granted. For so many years I’ve just wanted to be noticed and loved by my own blood.I didn’t receive what I needed to grow and thrive and I had to find it in other ways, dangerous and dark ways. This was the second moment I felt I wasn’t good enough. The first time was when I was 5 pin bowling on a competence level. In the force at steps to stardom I had reached the singles level which is the top bowler of everyone. Then below the singles, is a team bowling together. There were such a because they felt my bowling score was a fluke and that I just got lucky. I was pulled from the singles and put on the team and the second runner-up was put in that position. I earned the right to bowl as a singles. But again I felt it was taken away from me that I rightfully earned and again I made to feel “not good enough” that was the last year I bowled. But during that time I had met one of the most amazing is people who would end up hearing everything about my life and supporting everything about me. A friend, who would literally become family and that I would miss dearly for every day of my life

After the graduation ceremony, we are gone to a classmates house to have a dance Ray changed into an outfit my parents with an allowed me to wear that I purchased in Toronto. On that week-long bus trip to celebrate the end of grade 8. I believe it was shortly after that where I was quite upset I feeling alone in the world would not want to talk to. The fillet knife that is kept in a light brown leather holster was found under my pillow and I remember putting the knife to my wrist as I cried, I almost felt sick to my stomach because I didn’t want to do it but I also didn’t know what the purpose was of everything that was going on within me. My cries for help had gone  unheard, and it was my first realization all humans to this point in my life are nothing like me. Of course the whole hormones are raging to and no one to explain puberty to you in a way you can understand. I called the kids help phone because I have the number written in a book from the school I went at. The temporary sobbing of a distraught preteen high schooler, ended up speaking to an amazing person on the other end whom talk to me out of committing suicide regardless of what I had already experience with my mom’s attempt to end her life. She went on to tell me I would do really good things because it sounded like I had a big heart. I went on to tell her I would start a campaign called help the needy campaign. And after that experience I even wrote it down as a reminder of what I wanted to do. I would be on a mission to help as many people as I could :I never even knew it until A ferocious panic attack took place in Cuba changing the direction of my life forever.




Categories: Uncategorized

Tagged as:

Welcome To My Story

Cannabis Enthusiast : Craft Edible Creator : Recreation and Leisure Professional : Blogger
A Craft Edible Experience

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: