The Begining

the begining of Kim's troubles and how it all began.

 

If you’ve ever lost someone you can understand this. If you haven’t you cant begin to imagine the pain.

 

It’s weird when I look back I don’t realize how I got here, when did it all get so bad? The past is mostly a blur of fighting, drugs, and cutting. But things weren’t always so bad they began about a year ago, that’s when everything happened at once.

My parents divorce, dad leaving mom in her own tears. She started to drink she didn’t know what to do without dad, she was lost. She drank all day, sherry, vodka, martinis. Friends came by and called but she was to drunk to talk to them. She lay in bed on dirty sheets in the dark with a bottle and a glass. I had to pick up the slack in the house; the dishes, the laundry everything even paying the bills from dads checks was left to me. When mom was really drunk I stayed home to care for her, my grades suffered but I managed to scrape a C in my classes. If I caught her in a bad mood ,usually when dad called, she hit me; I would yell at her and she would yell back how I should just leave her like dad if I was so unhappy. I would have left the first time I saw how bad things were, but the truth was that I was afraid. I was afraid that if I left I wouldn’t ever come back. Since I was 11 I’d been looking for an excuse to leave, even when things were good I never really got along with my parents; my dad especially. Now that he was gone I really didn’t even miss him.

 

I spent a lot of time in my room; as much as possible actually. After a fight with my mom I would lay on the bed crying; my life had turned to nothing but sadness. Sometimes I would cry so hard I threw up just from the effort of it. I was upset so often that I couldn’t keep much food down anymore; I usually just ended up puking anyway. Finally my aunt noticed me getting skinnier and paler, my blood shot eyes. She took me to the doctor where I was put on anti- depression pills and encouraged to eat healthier, like that is going to help anything it’s my mom who should be on meds not me! Oh she already is on meds I forgot.

 

I did everything I could short of dragging her to get my mom out of bed every now and then, I even gave her some of my meds but the just made her dizzy. Things got worse and I threw up but not as much, I still cried a lot but soon found a new way to deal. One day while cleaning my bathroom I found an old razor blade and I wondered what It would feel like to cut myself, I’d seen the girls with the scars at my school like road maps of all their issues. The shiny pink scars where they tried to find a way out. I dipped the razor into my skin and pressed near the elbow. It was oddly comforting in a way that was unconceivable to me before. The pain and frustrations simply flow out of you and you take your anger out instead of keeping it like rotting sewage in your head. My mind cleared as I watched my blood drip onto the tile floor creating a mosaic of crimson and white. I sponged it up and washed the razor storing in in a top shelf where I could find it; next time.

 

Days passed in a haze I came home to my drunk mother and listened to her moan and complain through the sheetrock walls, a constant stream of excuses I could not escape. I wanted to beat my head on a rock to make her voice stop. But instead I cut myself just small cuts here and there, unnoticeable to the untrained eye; but I knew where they were they were like brands of all my burdens. Little doors to let the pain out.

Some days when it felt too much of a hassle to leave the house, I stayed home. I picked up empties from counters and the couch and trashed them. Every now and then my mom would have passed out before finishing her drink and I would pour it out for her. But today I just didn’t give a s**t, I chugged it, the entire tumbler then I poured myself another. Soon I was twirling around with a buzzing noise in my ear, was this how my mother spent her days? Hovering on medium consciousness? After a few I stopped seeing the attraction, and I started seeing why she stayed in bed all day after drinking. I found myself curled up on the bathroom floor with a blanket, hugging the toilet as I puked up the rancid alcohol. Drinking was not my thing, glad I found that out sooner than later.

 

This new found fact though did not keep me from partying until I was so trashed I forgot my pants. I went to parties with people I barely knew, people who had the drugs and the booze. Everything I needed to forget my incapable mother. I danced all night with strangers in a house I would never find in daylight. Guys grabbed me from behind smelling of cigarettes, vodka, and sweat. I did things that sober I would have been ashamed to admit. It isn’t fun to wake up in a strangers bed with half your clothes on. Wandering in the street like a crazy prostitute trying to get home. People pulling over offering you rides, if I had taken them I probably would have never made it home again. The way I see it I’m pretty lucky. This is what I thought until my near future walked into my house to check on me. My aunt took one look at me and asked where I’d been. What could I say? Out partying and getting loaded? My shirt was ripped I knew, my eyes were blood shot and my makeup was smeared. “Out.” I said; my chin defiant. “With whom?” she asked. Oh God oh God oh God… I could feel the acidic puke of last nights fun rising in my throat. I ran to the bathroom tripping over a million dirty clothes before I got there. Heaving into the toilet my last crazy night I felt oddly better. I looked in the mirror, I looked like a bomb site. My face was gray and waxy, my hair well it had seen better days. I couldn’t go on like this, I needed help. Fast.

 

My aunt had decided my mother needed to straighten things out before she could have me back again. She also decided that I needed some work of my own. She was taking me to Bellview Rehabilitation Center for Girls. My mother cried and stumbled down the steps after us in her dirty nightgown when we left, but my aunt was resilient and didn’t fold. The drive took us 2 hours and I spent it sleeping off a hangover in the backseat. When we finally arrived I wanted to go home again. Bellview was large, gray, and intimidating. It looked like a psych hospital not a rehab. I almost expected metal bars and screaming when we walked in, but it was normal and hospital like with nurses and matrons with food carts. My aunt signed me in and said goodbye and she’d be in touch with me soon. I just wanted to sleep. A large male nurse in green scrubs led me to a room with a bed and iv’s. I was made to shower and put on a thin hospital gown in powder blue. Then they put me to bed and hooked me up with antibiotics through needles in my arms. I was kind of out of it, it was like being tucked in at home while playing doctor. Suddenly I felt like a little kid again.

Author's Note

this is only the begining of the story after this Kim has many more experiences that will both change her and challenge her.

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