I was not expecting to have such an amazing conversation with my fellow Facbookers. Through this conversation I learned a lot about one person in particular who inspired me to write this blog. Its only fair to give you all a look inside my own life and struggles.
I grew up in foster care, from the age of 5 till I was 19. My mom was an alcoholic who chose a path in life which meant her kids came second. I am the youngest, I have two sisters who seem more like acquaintances then siblings. We are nothing alike and have very little in common. I do blame how we were raised but at the same time I chose to go a different path then them. I had my sister (who I will call Echo Girl to protect her identity) who protected me all through elementary and a bit through junior high whenever she'd come visit me, and even at home from our Grandma and uncle, after our Grandfather died, who abused me because I was the weaker one and couldn't fight back.
Growing up was never easy, I've been the target of bullies all through school and even in my foster homes, I was pushed to the breaking point of my anger many times. I became a chronic liar because I was made to become one, no one would take my word as truth because for some reason they deemed me as a liar. So in order to survive I lied about everything. Guilt eventually got the best of me as i grew up and now I can't even be dishonest or I can get ill. (Enter Frasier reference here)
I remember reading alot as a kid, anything i could get my hands on. Archie Comics and Sonic were my favorites because it gave me characters I wish i could escape with. Even cartoons I watched were a way of escaping any turmoil in my life. I had a very wild imagination, I was able to become my favorite characters and communicate with other characters to make myself feel better. Even Video games were an escape from my reality. Mario, Zelda, Resident Evil became my ultimate favorite to portray and recreate stories for.
I am a very social person, but because of the way I grew up I was a forced "loner" I hated every moment of it. But I used my imagination to make myself feel like I wasn't alone. Some therapists might accuse me of being Schizophrenic because I'll admit, I did have conversations with myself, but I assure you I am perfectly normal. I had to over come a lot of my own fears by myself, and I have to hand it to the comics and cartoons I watched and read for saving my life.
The X-Men became part of my daily survival plan when 1995 hit. The cartoon let me to the comics, comics let me to learning as much as I could about each character, and even developing my own characters. I even used my Barbies as the X-men, acting out epic battles and amazing storylines with my foster sister.
I met my husband in high school and as we got to know each other I began to admire his skills and knowledge for old cars. Before my Grandfather died we would always wash his Cadillac and I learned how to baby a vehicle. I guess the old saying is true, a woman will marry a guy like her father, since I didn't know my father, my Grandpa became that father figure.
I warned my husband at the time that we started to date that I have quite a few comics, and I will always enjoy them, if you ask me to get rid of them I will show you the door. He told me he was a collector too plus he had a lot of his old toys from his childhood. We have been happy collecting toys and comics since.
I do not wish for people to feel sorry for me, nor do I want you to view me as a person who thinks that Child and Family Services owes me for the hell they put me through. I found my therapy, I'm not perfect and I may have a few issues that I have yet to work on. But I survived for 28 years with nothing more than a love for cartoons, few comics, and a vivid imagination to keep me company.
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