My mind

My Story

So  I'm going to go on ahead and say this, read this at your own risk. It may trigger some people and I would rather not deal with those types of comments, so you can't say I didn't warn you.

I was born April 22, 2004. I am the youngest of four, one brother and two sisters. I had a somewhat normal live for my first year two years a life, but when I was about two years old I started to get sick, I couldn't stop vomiting and I was running high fevers. It got so bad most days I didn't get out of bed and I really wouldn't eat anything because I would just vomit it back up. When I was three the doctors finally finally figured out I have a diagnosed with cyclic vomiting syndrome or CVS for short.

Shortly after getting my CVS under a little bit of control I got stung by something on the tip of my left pointer figure. I had a really bad reaction to it and the doctors said if I got stung again there is a good possibility I could die from it, but here's the thing no one knows what stung me and because of how bad my reaction was and how young I was the doctors didn't want to find out. The doctor narrowed it down to either a bee, wasp or yellow jacket.

For the next couple of months I would just be going in and out of the hospital because my CVS is bad and my medicine for it was not working. Until one time I went into the hospital and the doctors said my kidneys where starting to die because I has on such a high dosage of medicine which was meant for adults. Luckily the doctors saved my both of my kidney and took me off that medicine.

Life went on as it normal did, in and out of the hospital. Until I started kindergarten, which I did not like because I had to speak and I had spent the last five years only talking for my sister and not myself. It's save to say I almost failed but luckily didn't.

After kindergarten I moved and it was during the moved that my brother started physically hurting me. I was six and I thought it was normal. Only to learn when I started first grade it wasn't, so I joined softball so when I would show up to school covered in bruises I could blame it on softball. First grade was also the year I meet my worst bully ever in the form of what seemed to be a harmless tall girl in my class, who for this story I'm going to call E.

E didn't really do much to me my first grade year, we would talk and I honestly thought we were friends. When second grade came E would get rather mad at me for no reason when I would be nice to her or someone would bring up anything about height, but I would think nothing of it because I thought my brother hurting me was normal.

It was around spring break of my second grade year that my family saw first hand what my brother had be doing to me. My brother threw me across my kitchen and gave me a concession because I refused to clean up his mess and after the concession I ended getting diagnosed with migraines. But like I expected my parents thought it was a one time thing, though what I did not expect was for them to kicked him out to go live with his biological dad. Even though my brother was kicked out he still got to come visit for weekend so his torture to me was no where near down and would only get worse from here on out.

It was the end of second grade year when I finally quit softball because the coach and my parents kept asking me why I was not as good as my sister, who was on the team with me. At the time I really wasn't thinking about what excuse I could make for the bruises I was getting from my brother, so I join another sport which I liked a lot more than softball, that sport was competitive cheer leading.