When I was 10, I was a Spice Girls fanatic (Geri especially). I was already on the Internet by now. I got into the school spelling bee but forgot the second “t” in otter. I’d always been reading a lot, and well. My brother and I played with the video camera a lot when we visited our dad on the weekends. Otherwise we were online.
When I was 11, I graduated from elementary school. I started drawing. I was well-liked by my 5th grade teacher until a woman replaced him and she did not care for me. All the kids in the class wanted me to draw Tigger on their pizza boxes/portfolios. I was a pretty strong Christian still and was baptized in my church.
When I was 12, I was living with my grandparents. I remember going to therapy. I drew a lot and started getting picked on in school. I told my art teacher I wanted to die and was persuaded into being admitted that September. I spent most of the time by myself, at the library, or with my friend Cassandra.
When I was 13, I had the worst year of my life since I was 7 (when my parents divorced). I tried to overdose on my medications on February 23rd, 2001, had my stomach pumped, and then was escorted by the police back to the hospital.
When I was 14, I met my BFF (to this day) as a freshman. I listened to pop-punk. I think I had my braces taken off this year. One teacher called my dad and complained about my hygiene; I kept my hair in a ponytail and never brushed it.
When I was 15, I was really into reading rock biographies from the library. I wrote some poetry during this time, mostly inspired by Kurt Cobain. I had a small group of friends that were also heavily into music.
When I was 16, I got drunk with other people for the first time. I was a huge fan of Pantera and was attracted to any guy with a bald head, for some reason. Well, drunk me started making out with someone who apparently had a girlfriend and I was humiliated. Needless to say, I did not hang out with them again.
When I was 17, my dad took me to visit New Orleans, a city I’d always been fascinated with from books in the library. I had an undercut hairstyle because I thought it looked cool on Mike Patton from Faith No More. I quickly grew it out but am proud of myself for having the guts.
When I was 18, I graduated from high school and lost my virginity that summer. I say I learned to drive down in Miami because that’s where I went a lot. I saw a guy named Ron, a fellow artist, and we’re still “Facebook friends.”
When I was 19, I had the most fun out of my whole life. This was a great age for me. My best friend and I hung out all the time and got served drinks at the local pool hall. I started dating my first serious boyfriend whom I worked with.
When I was 20, I think I started having problems with my best friend and we didn’t speak for a few years. My boyfriend was really the only person I had in my life, but we also fought a lot. We went to a lot of concerts with our mutual friend that lived in a trailer. We were engaged this whole time so, boy, did I dodge a bullet.
When I was 21, I was probably still fighting with my boyfriend. I started to drink more and more alcohol. I heavily considered trying to get on psychiatric medicine at this time but did not have insurance. Although, I did go to therapy for a little bit; she was awful and never said a word to me; likely trained in a Freudian style.
When I was 22, I broke up with my boyfriend of 3 1/2 years. I learned what codependency was. I mourned the breakup for the rest of the year, but I also had an upward spiral in my social life; I made a bunch of mutual friends through concerts in Fort Lauderdale and Miami. Shout-out to Maria and Niuvis!
When I was 23, I had another good year socially. I kept meeting more people from shows down south and saw a few guys. I was at a great weight and felt very confident and sexy. I took a few classes at the community college but withdrew after a while. A very social year for me.
When I was 24, I started dating my second serious boyfriend. It was another shit-show. He was a narcissistic fall-down drunk. Or is that redundant? I was still coming to terms with my codependency and abandonment issues, BUT I did get out of it after only 6 months. It was hard. He tried to call me 100 times (and I’m not exaggerating).
When I was 25, I started dating my third (and most recent) serious boyfriend. This was another good year for me. Besides falling in love in the only healthy relationship I’ve had, I was successful at my job. I had been at Macy’s for 2 years by now and was still in good shape from running around fetching shoes all day.
When I was 26, my beloved grandfather passed away after 24 hours in hospice; I was the only one in the room the moment he passed. So, that moment is very sacred to me.
In the summer, my dad and I flew up to New Jersey to visit my brother’s little family. I got to see some of New York that weekend.
Then I started bringing alcohol to work. I would put vodka in a small spritzer bottle and mix it in with Sprite from the food court. I also drank chardonnay from an Arizona can during one shift; I couldn’t even remember closing the register. I scheduled an appointment with a therapist and started seeing a psychiatrist again.
When I was 27, I made it through the whole year without drinking. However, I was spending a lot of money that I didn’t have (a sign of bipolar that went missed). I worked at a pharmacy during this time which lasted a little over a year.
When I was 28, my boyfriend of 3 years suddenly broke up with me. Over text, on my lunch break at work. I incurred the most heartbreak from this breakup and even underwent EMDR therapy for the emotional abuse his friends and roommates put me through. My boyfriend, the light of my life, was a coward.
I started going to Alcoholics Anonymous regularly. I still hadn’t touched alcohol but I had done a few other drugs. This made me feel so guilty at the time that I did not ask for a 2 year medallion. I met some good friends through the program, especially Allie.
When I was 29, I went through my deepest, darkest depression. I was only being prescribed antidepressants and nothing was working, except for a few random days here and there where I felt particularly “up.” I sincerely thought I had a white light moment/spiritual awakening around Thanksgiving but in hindsight it might have just been mania, I don’t know. I was awake and constantly on my phone for 2 days straight and felt like I was a divine being. This eventually subsided, to my chagrin.
Last year, I had an intense enough hypomanic episode that I realized I had been misdiagnosed with Major Depression for 4 years. No wonder I was so “treatment resistant.” Please refer to my first blog post for more details. I felt like I had reached an impasse with my therapist and was desperate enough to spend the whole month of December in treatment/rehab. I couldn’t stand having every last ounce of my freedom stripped from me and will never do that again.
This year, I renewed my Pharmacy Tech license but I’m still not working. This makes me feel guilty and stresses me out. But the more time I spend out of work the worse it’s going to look on my resume. Well, I’ve been sick; that’s all there is to it. I am getting really bored and lonely, though.
If you managed to read all of that, thank you for your time and interest in my life and struggles. I thought up this prompt earlier this evening and thought it’d make for an interesting post. Feel free to use my idea to jog your memory about significant times from your past.