I’m sitting outside my apartment smoking a joint. I’ve been unemployed since November and I think the no’s really start to get to you. They say it's not personal and the economy is to blame. The only concern of mine is when has finding someone to blame ever helped move any agenda forward. A year ago I moved into my dream apartment and with that came nightmarish bills. 

Before you ask— No, I can't go back home. I recognized my privilege and I could absolutely go live with my mother but I fear I would be dead within the year. My mother and I’s relationship was crippiling most of my life. However when my father passed I put my personal feelings aside and attempted to support or build some sort of relationship with the only parent I had left. I live about 4,000 miles away from her and that was indeed intentional. 

Growing up I always had this overbearing feeling that my mother didn’t love me. The first few years of my life she was pretty active, volunteering at school and in the community. Somewhere around second grade she just shut off. I did whatever I could to try to get her attention or love but even when I would try to hug her she pushed me away. She neglected doing my hair, we stopped going school shopping at the beginning of the year and instead the topic was just ignored when brought up. I was severely bullied starting in 3rd grade, additionally 3rd grade is when I experienced my first suicidal thought.

Memory:

It was the first day of school in a new town. My mother had purchased me a plain navy blue crewneck with matching sweats. I remember her putting so much Vaseline on me the kids giggled about it. The teacher asked me to stand and introduce myself. I confidently said “I’m Ang and I moved here from Wisconsin”. All I remember is “Why does she talk like that” being blurted before I could finish my thought. The entire class erupted with laughter including the teacher.

Embarrassed, that was the first day I attempted to just make myself small and not stand out in any way. Later that same year the bullying got so bad my teacher forced every student in the class to write me apology letters. I was so sick to my stomach, the anger in the kids eyes and the pitty in my teacher’s. I stuffed all the letters in my backpack and kept my head down until I was home. Upon arrival I was greeted by my two sisters whom were fire signs and felt as if the best entertainment comes from hurting others. I feel emotions heavily so the gross embarrassment was clear across my face. They asked me what was wrong and when I said nothing they began to chase me and pull on me. The one pulled so hard my backpack ripped open and all 30 letters went flying. They immediately started to grab for them, this was better than the candy inside the piñata. Both of them took turns reading the letters out loud, yelling and asking my other siblings to join in. Announced to my parents I was getting bullied which somehow just made it worse. I didn’t feel safe at school or at home.

The worst part about that is most people at least have a room to run to but everyone had a room but me. I slept in a common area or on the couch. It was never really acknowledged I just never thought I brought as much value as my siblings.