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Tuesday, May 15, 2012

My story, part III

Read previous posts on this subject here.

The night my mom told me we were moving across the country in a few short months, I cried nonstop. I cried while brushing my teeth. I cried while washing my face. I cried myself to sleep. My 14-year-old self was crushed. Remember how horrible everything is when you're 14? Yeah.

In addition to keeping this secret about our relocation, I was eventually told I couldn't hang out with boys anymore. Me, who had never done more than hold a boy's hand (I didn't have my first kiss until I was 18 and in college!), could no longer spend time with any of my guy friends. It was one of the worst things to happen to me. This coming from the girl whose dad went to prison for burning the house down on purpose. It just seemed like too much. My entire world was crashing down around me and I had no say about anything.

My mom was also remarried at this point, which was another difficult change to process. My step-dad is a great person, but back then it was hard to comprehend. He kinda sorta isn't very old when you compare his age to my older brother's. It. Was. Weird.

My parents went to Maine for a feverish house-hunt while the kids stayed in Utah. It truly was a miracle that they found a house that A) wasn't tiny, B) wasn't a complete dive, and C) wasn't in the sticks. Being a one-car family, living right in town (near the schools/stores/work/etc) made a big difference. That didn't make the move any easier though.

The final summer in Utah I spent living with different friends. It was one of the best summers of my youth. I don't even remember parents. It was just me and my best friends, every day, all day. As my time with them came to a close, my despair enveloped me. One evening, while out late with the people I loved the most, I got so upset about moving and leaving it all behind that I had an anxiety attack. I hyper-ventilated on a hillside and was eventually carried home by someone's older sister's boyfriend.

Actually moving is kind of a blur. My older brother was already serving an LDS mission, and my younger sister had ridden in the U-Haul with my parents from Utah to Maine. That just left me and my younger brother to fly across the country with my cat. Sedated. In a box.

When we arrived at our new home, I remember walking through the downstairs and being amazed at its size. It kept going and going. My mom mentioned that it'd be great for parties. Yeah, great. For me and all my imaginary new friends.

I spent the summer wasting away in my despair. I was consumed with Utah and how to get back to my friends. It was pretty intense. I've been reading my old journals and I want to hug the girl I was and tell her everything will be okay eventually. I want to tell her that nothing in high school really matters.

It might just take ten years for that to come true.

1 comment:

  1. Yes, I now am firm on my last comment. You should definately write a book. It would be great and you write so beautifully and it is captivating. You are so strong and beautiful.


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