i think i have very well been cheated out of my childhood.

of course i think i had a part in the outcome, but it was a very tiny part. i was the little girl with the abusive, alcoholic mother and the firefighter father that was always gone on 12-hour shifts. my sister always looked to me (not our mom) for help and my little brother called me "mama" just as often as he called our own mother. i changed their diapers, i played with them, taught them their colors and letters, how to tie their shoelaces and how to ride a bike. i didn't do this just because i was a kick-ass sister, but because my mother was too drunk or crazy or just didn't care. i endured beatings and protected my siblings. i dressed up my sister and baby brother and sneaked them out of the house to a block parent when my mother left us with psycho drunks to go and get drunk herself. i did it all. i had to take up cooking when i was nine years old. my mother was always passed out or gone out... i would spend time with my friends and didn't even know how to have fun.

so, growing up wasn't the best of times. when i got old enough to make my own decisions, i rebelled. i sneaked out of the house at 2:30 in the morning with my cousin one time, i couldn't have been any older than 13. we went to the playground and smoked and made fools of ourselves, only to come home and find out my mother had awoken from her drunkenness and locked the door on us. we tried breaking in, but to no avail... someone called the cops on us and we hid away and slept in our van. by the time my sweet sixteen came around, i made friends with the wrong kids. i started drinking, doing drugs, having sex. usually all at the same time, and sometimes i didn't even know where i would end up. i was an idiot, and then my health went downhill.

i stayed home all the time, not knowing if i was dying with something or the doctors just didn't know what was wrong with me. i missed over half of my senior year in high school to just BARELY pass. i moved out two days after grad. really, i was running away from my problems at home. i ran into others at my friend's house. i was treated like shit, and had the last straw right before my 18th birthday. i moved back to my dad's and got really depressed and tried to kill myself.

my family was continuously worried about me, i couldn't be bothered to do anything. i had the opportunity to go to college nine months later, and took my friends up on their offer.

i moved out on my own again, only for the cops to come to my place two weeks later and kick us out because i was hanging around with the wrong friends. damn.

this past year, i moved away for university. endured many problems with roommates and classes and adjusting to my new city. got hit by a car and went into depression again.

when i'm living with my dad, i take my role as mother. i cook and clean... i make sure my siblings don't act like animals and make sure they do their homework and go to bed. i keep my dad company and make sure the kids don't drive him crazy, even though he figures they'll kill him eventually.

maybe everyone has their own problems, and i'm no different than anyone else. but i've always felt that i was more mature than all my friends. i never related to partiers. i can't go to clubs and have fun... i don't associate myself with most people my age because i don't know how to act my age.

but you know what? i make the BEST chili and fried rice, and everyone loves my homemade chicken soup. i can sew and knit, and i can (usually) fix computers when they decide to piss me off. i scrub toilets without complaining, take care in washing dishes, and make sure my dogs always have water. i can figure out how just about everything works, and i take pretty good pictures. and i learned it all on my own. i'm going to be one kick-ass wife someday.

or at i least that's what i think.

I'm wearing: over-sized nightie
I'm listening to: if that's what it takes *c�line dion*
I'm thinking: i need to shave my legs