For those unfamiliar with my story, Screwed Up: My Life, please start at the beginning here. The purpose of me writing this intimate account of surviving a difficult childhood is explained here. This story in its entirety can be found at Blurb.com and is available for purchase for $12.95 plus shipping and handling.
That is when she told me to leave and never come back.
I began walking. I couldn’t believe this was happening. What was happening? I had just gotten kicked out. I had no where to go. My mother didn’t want me, my friend didn’t want me, my father didn’t want me, the family I had lived with just three weeks ago had kicked me out and I had no idea where my sister, Shelly lived. I felt dazed and confused.
I walked faster. I had no idea where I was going. I felt nauseous. I felt hot and yet clammy all at once. My head was pounding and my heart was beating into my stomach and my stomach was in my throat.
My vision became more blurry with every passing second. Each of my thoughts in an insane jumble. I just walked—no real destination in mind. My vision was skewed, because my eyes were filled with tears.
I kept walking. I walked over a bridge. I looked over the bridge and thought about ending my life right there. Why not? My sister, Donna, was dead and no one wanted me anyways. I walked and walked and walked.
That’s when I saw a payphone and decided to call my Young Womens leader at the Mormon Church in Sapulpa. For some reason, of all the members I had met that previous Sunday, I decided to memorize her number. I took the only spare change out of my pocket and dropped it into the payphone. The change I had was just enough to make one phone call.
Someone picked up on the other end. I tried to get it out of my mouth that I had no where to go and that I had been kicked out and told to never return. My voice cracked as I tried to keep my tears inside. I did not want anyone to see me or hear me cry. She must have heard the anxiety in my voice, because she said she get there as soon as she could.
I sat on the sidewalk waiting for my Young Womens leader to show up. I felt my stomach ache and twist inside. Then, I felt the inside of my mouth. During this relatively short walk to the payphone, my mouth had broken out into dozens of festering canker sores. My mouth was on fire.
My church leader arrived and picked me up. I got into the passenger side and told my leader what happened. She tried to comfort me. I was beyond being consoled. She asked if I wanted an ice cream cone from McDonalds. I told her I did as I thought ice cream would cool the fiery sensation I felt inside my mouth. After we went through the drive through, she handed me my ice cream and I attempted to lick it. Oh, God it hurt!
I pulled the mirror down on the visor and opened my mouth to try to take a peek at why my mouth hurt so badly. I was shaking uncontrollably from what I knew was a full blown panic attack and what I saw as I stared into the mirror frightened me—not only was my mouth covered in canker sores, but also my gums had become swollen and bruised-looking from the stress I was experiencing. My gums had dark bluish spots all over them. I couldn’t finish my ice cream.
I felt sick inside and I had no where to turn.
To be continued...