{April 15, 2013}   How did I get here?

How did I get here? Right now, this moment. Sitting at the kitchen table, alone, silence so loud my ears are ringing. Not happy, not sad, or angry or bored or ashamed? In this moment, who am I, and how did I get here?

A series of moments, a series of decisions…. my decisions and those of others. My father stabbing my mother in the head with scissors.  Going to work with my mother when she was young and beautiful. She was an aerobics instructor and I sat on the weight bench and ate grapes.

New house… dad at the door with flowers, red roses. Mom likes yellow. We don’t open the door for daddy anymore. We hide and cry in the bedroom.

Days of Our Lives… I was named after Rachel Cory. I remember when Mac died. I think that’s when botox was invented, Cuz Bo and Hope still look the same.

Eating McDonalds on the porch in the rain. I think that was the only childhood memory I have where my older brother wasn’t a total jerk. I love him so much. He’s so far away from me now. I haven’t heard his voice in a year. Only one letter…

When I was seven, things got crazy. I took a bunch of tests, pictures on cards, a string of beads. I spelled thermos and they said I was gifted. New kids, new class. Only I was too smart for my friends, and too dumb for the new kids. There was a lot of room at my lunch table.

The teacher told me not to hold the jar of paint by the lid…

I had to go so bad…

My mom met a man with a red face. He smiled too much. I drew him a picture.

I guess that’s not how I got here, to this silent kitchen.

But that was the beginning…


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