Prologue: three things my mother would tell me!
I don’t usually blame bad things happening on what had happened to me, though I started to have issues right after the 9/11 attacks that being said they had the bigger impact on me then even the president of the United States at the time, and that guy fucking hates terrorists, but I had to live with the idiots most of my childhood. I remember starting to swear and have nightmares (terrors) and out if character behaviours at age 12, this was the year of the attacks. I remember that one day I started to walk to my friends house in the middle of the ice storm and she was across town. Now this was when the perverts, predators really started to be idiots too. Before then there was no word of kids or woman disappearing in small towns though it was rare. But this was just at the time of the internet being on the raise. So there was more going on with the world as far as people disappearing, and my parents were worried that I might have been snatched off the street while walking. It took me hours to get home with my friend, so I was endangering her life too. This did not go down as well as I thought it would. My father, I remembered, had a long face like a horse and said that there was a lot going wrong. My mother said that we were going to have a little chat…..only it was a big blow up on her part. Let’s just say it’s a wonder that she had annoy compassion for me in life, though she did not when I did something stupid though like this. She must have deafen me in one ear yelling, “you need to give back to the world and you better do it soon!”
that was the first thing she told me, the second thing was about a year later, when she calmly told me to “believe in my self,” though I still have a hard time with this too. Though it tried to believe in my self she thought I could though I was being severely bullied in school for things there I could not understand at the time. I have an IQ of 196, though social activity still has me stumped to this day. One example will be not to enter another person’s car, I know if the danger but something is not clicking during this time, this, and other band decisions had lead to more than a fair share of trouble. One being, if I know I have to lie about something, probably I should not even be doing this. I had been in fights and pranks most of my childhood because for some odd reason the other kids and teachers hated my guts.
i remember the 8th grade, and I made a lot of enemies, some life long, some not so much. When I find a new a new enemy, the juggalo’s call it chicken hunting. Now the haters/bullies are the obvious chickens and I have been doing this most my life uncovering hateful people and bigots. I listen to the insane clown posse as I love music that has swearing in it. Don’t know why but I just do since age 11. I have been “down” with the clown since age six. I remember my mother not loving the band as much as I do. Though I remember also listening to Buffy Sainte-Marie and jeniferever (a Swedish band). During this time my mother would soon tell me it would probably take all my life to find my true love, this I could do without. I really started to think that worried people would make angry and unpleasant people in the end.
I never got the idea of stranger-danger still don’t this is where my brain literally has a block on it. Though I am smart everywhere else, the social and street smarts are my weakest point in my life. I keep thinking that people are inherently good though this obviously isn’t the case when you read this book. I never got the thought of someone could be evil in my mind, until grade 8 though it was some of my closest friends who nearly ended my life, including the girl I went across the town to see a year earlier. This was a such a horrible betrayal.
i remember that school was very lax on bullying and abuse. That I nearly died at someone else’s hand or even my own repeatedly because of the treatment I would continue to endure. Though the principal, some you are taught to see as good would threaten me with: prison, Guantanamo bay, and even a black site because of my “race.” This frightened the hell out of my mother and she came down on me like a hammer. This was when the severity of the fights I was in and it was told that if I continued to act this way I would be killed.
Though I never trusted that principal again and this was when I would be marginalized for the first time in my life. This would just add to my trauma, and my already hyperactive amygdala that I had from being a baby in a war zone. But this was constantly since age 6 as well, though my mother would not put two and two together, and see that I was traumatized severely. This would be a fight in it on its own.
as I never thought about finding this inner peace though I heard about it. I would be at war with myself until about age thirty. And even then I have the odd hiccup here and there. It was not very easy being who i am. Though I started to see that life is better sweet though it can be more bitter then anything else. I had more of then bitter sweet though. I remember that there were some high points in my childhood though I don’t like to really think as everything that was mostly bad, was good. I went through many years of therapy on separate occasions in my life though I still would not budge though I started to do music. This was my one good outlet though I also draw/paint, write, and photograph. This would be my favourite coping strategy.
you can see the trauma in my art, especially with the art work involving the trauma eater, it was a demagone like monster that I created. If you seen the stranger things, then you know about the demagone. But this one is one all fours (i like to think of myself as the female Trevor Henderson). But I have been doing art as long as I have been a juggalette (most of my life).
i would never like non-music related loud noises and I would have the pain tolerance of a zombie. Though I am alive to be honest with you. I never thought this could be genetic or trauma related. Though it could be both.
I was a happy person but the year of the attacks I was acting really strange this time (the summer) when I would pull out my eyebrows. This was starting annoy my usually patient parents.
by the time I got out of high school I had no eyebrows left from all the annoying anxiety the other kids would cause me. I never was very sociable as a kid and the goofing off the other kids drive me insane. But I never thought I would make it to 37 years old, it was very obvious that I had some troubling behaviour and thoughts. Though I never acted on the thoughts they still showed up. But there were bit as intense as they were in elementary school. This was a terrible place for me to be. One was being forced to fit in and conform to everyone else, even if they people you were conforming to were not exactly good or kind. This people were psychopaths and sociopaths, and I was a rather emotional person (still am to this day). I never got normal people,and they never got me either. Though I had my dreams crushed and rebuilt to what “society” wants though I never could get what they wanted from me. I never idolized sociopaths and anorexic people. This never got me interested in celebrities or what have you.
i was more interested in being my own person. This could be because of my stubbornness that is bread in to me by my ancestors.
that being said I hope to be a very creative person, even though I am I would rather be famous for who I am and not how I look. This is a tall order for a looks-based society that’s things blonde hair and big boobs are great.
my mother told me to give back, to believe in myself and that love was hard to find, the last one I would rather not deal with has this is a touchy subject, romantic love. I never was interested in marrying people or having sex with others, the idea grosses me out still.
