Post 9: Billie's Story

Here’s a little about me… My name is Billie and if you think I’m a guy you’re wrong, I’m a chick. I was raised in Southern California. I’m 22 years old and can't believe I’ve made it this far. My mother did drugs the first three months of her pregnancy. Maybe that has a lot to do with my problems or maybe it's all the stuff I went through. I was a healthy baby and the drugs didn't affect me. The doctors said maybe later in my life they would see problems, like learning disabilities or ADD. I ended up with both. My mom did drugs the first 10 years of my life. I only have a couple memories of my dad. He was always overdosing on drugs and my mom had to put ice down his pants to wake him up. I haven’t heard from him in 14 years. I guess my early memories start with my sister’s dad. He and my mom were both druggies and drunks and since we lived behind a bar, they pretty much lived there. They left me to take care of my baby sister when I was only 4 years old. My sister only lived with us on the weekends because she was in foster care. I was also in foster care but the people let me stay with my mom because they couldn’t handle me. I was always crying, screaming and causing trouble. I was very attached to my mom for some weird reason. I would cry for hours and hours and wouldn’t stop. They didn’t understand and I couldn’t explain it to them at 4 years old. My foster parents weren't the greatest parents. I used to pee the bed and my foster mother would make me suck my underwear with pee on them. I don't know if she was crazy because now she’s a zombie on psych meds. Her daughter used to put stuff on her boobs and ask me to suck them. Sometimes I stayed with them when my mom needed to put me in a safe place, away from my sister’s dad. My sister’s dad used to beat my mom over and over. He broke her nose twice and shot her once. I saw all of this and so much more. He would beat me too. He raped me. He used to stick knives and pencils in me. He used to tie me up and he would make me do stuff to our dog. He used to play doctor with me. He was a sick man. My mom went to court ordered drug treatment when I was 6 or 7. I used to cry and scream there. My mom used to cover my mouth and nose until I passed out because she didn’t know what else to do. The people there told my mom to take me to the behavioral health center to be put on medication. I was put on Lithium and so many other medications from that point on. I first tried to hang myself in our closet with a metal hanger and all my mom did was yell at me and then cut me down. My mom stopped doing street drugs and is just living on pain killers and psych meds now. When I turned 12 was when I first started to really hurt myself. I start burning myself. After awhile, I needed to see blood so I started to cut. At first, it was just scratches, but years later, when I was 14 or 15, I started to cut with knives. I have scars everywhere from head to toe. I've had so many stitches from cutting. I've even cut a piece of my leg out. I've tried to kill myself so many times with pills, but God didn't want me to go. He has me here for a reason. I remember once the doctor told me that I wasn't going to make it through the night because I shot my liver. That was the worst night of my life but I made it through. The doctor was shocked. I had to drink this horrible drink every 3 hours for the next 2 weeks. At age 13, I was sent to Utah to a place called Heritage. At the time, I thought that was the shittiest place ever and I had to stay there for 2 years. I tried hurting myself a lot and I was a big safety hazard. Heritage really showed me life. I went to another place where my mother wanted me to get off medication because she thought that was the problem with me. They took me off all meds and I had horrible anxiety and didn’t sleep for days. I was scared and tried to hurt myself even worse. Heritage put me back on one medication instead of 7. My mother disagreed with this so Heritage went to court and got approval to keep me on my medication. Then, I was sent to Colorado. Many places wouldn’t take me because I was a danger to myself the first time I walked onto the unit. I started to try to kill myself, cut myself and pass out every day. The place in Colorado kept me drugged up all the time and couldn’t keep me safe so they sent me back to the Children’s Hospital. They kept me in a little safe room for 3 months and had someone watch me at the door all day. The only time I left my safe room was to shower and pee in the bathroom that was 3 feet away. They drugged me up on Seroquel and I don’t know how I was still walking and talking. After Colorado, they sent me to San Jose, California to Starlight. I begged my mom for a month to come and get me. I told her stories of staff being beat up. She finally came and took me out at 17 years old. I went home for 3 months until I tried to kill myself again because I couldn’t live with my crazy mom. I think she was still using drugs. She would abuse me physically and emotionally. When I tried to kill myself, Heritage said they would take me back if they could have custody of me. Even though I begged, my mom refused because she would lose money. They sent me back to Starlight instead and it was still crazy. I didn’t hurt myself once while I was there. I couldn’t. Because I was turning 18, if I hurt myself, I would be locked up forever. I started praying a lot, talking to God, and writing. I don't how I made it through there, but I did. I stayed there until my 18 birthday and my mom picked me up to go back home. That was the day that I changed and started a new life. The day after I came home, I went to meet my new therapist. Somehow, I was blessed with an amazing person. For the next 2.5 years of my life, she helped me with my issues like talking about my sister’s dad, my mom and hurting myself. I can't say I didn't hurt myself after treatment, but it wasn’t like when I was younger. My new therapist wouldn’t lock me up in the hospital if I felt like hurting myself or was feeling suicidal. She would talk to me, trust me and make a safety plan. I slowly stopped hurting myself and when I did, the space between each time would get longer and longer. I haven’t hurt myself in almost 3 years. I still feel like doing it sometimes but I wait it out or cry it out. I know I'll never hurt myself again and I can't see how I did that to myself. I am doing really well in life, I have to say. For me, the hardest time in my life was the beginning, so the rest my life isn't going to be hard. I’ve already had everything possible happen to me so I know how to deal with it. I get to have my childhood and my adulthood right now and I can balance it out. I am going to school to be a nurse so that I can help people. I want to help people in many ways. I also want to start a business as a public speaker and go around to treatment centers and talk to kids. I also want to be a Juvenile PO so I can help the kids in the system because I know how it is. I don't know what I'll end up doing first. I have a lot of dreams and I’m happy now. I still I have my sad days, but everyone does. That’s when you find love and support. I’m scared to die and I want to live forever. I have so much to see and to become and I don’t think my life is long enough for me to do everything. Time really does fly by. I know that I had to go through that stuff to be where I am in life. I couldn’t see myself growing up a different way because I wouldn’t be me. I had to go through all that to find my place, values and love. I had to go through that to find LIFE.