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Life went on: So life went on for other people but not for me. I was trapped in the Hell of my own body turned against me. My body seemed to be disintegrating right out from under me. I was so exhausted and so swollen everywhere and so worn down and haggard that I couldn't function anymore. My ankles would buckle sideways and give out on me if I tried to run even a short distance at a slow pace. I hurt all over. All of my friends drifted away while they obsessed about new clothes, hair styles, make-up, sun tans, parties, boys, cooler groups of friends, cars and then newer cars as I was left behind fighting to just survive. Trying to just understand what was happening and what to do about it. Asking myself and God, "Why me?" I couldn't comprehend any of it. Life went on for my parents and my friend's parents. Life went on for my older sisters who were grown and far away from home. I was so scared, I didn't know what to do. No matter what I did, no matter how good I was, I couldn't stop what was happening. I started wearing a lot of make-up that I had left over from before I got sick. I used the cosmetics to cover up what was happening to my face the best that I could. It didn't really work and I looked horribly wrinkled and ugly. I wore my long hair down too cover my face some more and I wore sunglasses all the time to hide the damage around my eyes. My mom made me go to school every morning. It was all so very impossible and yet a person can be forced. My mom would come into my room to get me up for school and I'd be lying naked under the covers drenched in sweat or chills from the night sweats, hot flashes, whatever they were. When I wouldn't get up, my mom and dad would come into the room and my mom would dump a great big bowl full of ice water and ice cubes on me. I'd cry and beg them to stop. I'd tell them I was sick. I'd tell them I'd been feverish and then chilled all night. I'd howl and sob when the ice water hit me, seeping through the blankets and searing my boiling or already frozen body. My temperature seemed to depend on whether I was fevered or chilled at the moment and the transitions were unpredictable. Either way the frozen water felt like cold knives on my skin. When I still didn't leap right up, I just couldn't I was naked under those blankets and my dad was standing right there over the bed, they'd each grab some handfuls of blanket and rip it off of me. I was so horrified and embarrassed I'd cling to the blanket to keep my body covered, so when they pulled as hard as they could my whole body would fall out of the bed and onto the floor. Naked and aching and filled with humiliation I'd try to claw at the blanket again, but they'd yank it out of reach and I had to get up and hobble to the bathroom, lock the door and cry. My body felt bruised from hitting the floor, but it wasn't bruised. I only hurt so bad because my joints were so swollen and the impact of landing on the carpet made them all ache more. Anyway, I'd get ready for school as well as I could and go to the bus stop. Usually by then I'd be late and I'd have to force myself to walk to school, it was about 10 miles. Sometimes I'd collapse and other times I'd push myself no matter how I felt. I learned to walk in a trance, just putting one foot in front of the other and not thinking about it, not feeling anything, not hearing or seeing anything. There was nothing except one foot shuffling in front of the other foot. If my leg gave out I'd fall and it didn't matter. Just pull up and then one foot in front of the other. It was a new school and when I started there I was still a very pretty and vivacious girl rocketing upwards towards popularity. Now I was plummeting down, an ugly strange looking girl who was shunned by all the other kids. Once I got called into the principle's office and after I'd sat down she stared at me harshly like I was some kind of horrible monster or freak or something. I knew I was frequently late for classes because I had to walk to school when I missed the bus, but I was confused about why she was that angry looking. Then she accused me of dealing drugs on campus. ME who didn't take drugs. ME who was so sick already I'd be beyond terrified to try drugs because drugs could make it even worse for me. I was trying so hard to understand why I was sick and trying so hard to find a way to make it better --- I'd never have dared to mess with drugs or even cigarettes for that matter. I had already personally seen the lung capacity test at that first allergy specialists office -- the fact that no matter how hard I blew into the tube the little ball barely moved was stuck vividly in my mind. The last thing I'd consider was experimenting with drugs! Yet here I was accused of being the BIG BAD DOPE PEDDLER around campus. I was shocked and scared. What could this mean? What would happened next? What would my parents say to this new story about me? Why me? Couldn't anyone see the truth? Was everyone insane? Of coarse, I denied selling dope or whatever I was supposed to be selling and tried to explain that I didn't touch that stuff, not ever! I didn't tell the lady principle, who was still glaring at me like I was the lowest piece of scum she'd ever seen, that I was just sick and please help me because I didn't want to go to anymore doctors. I was now horribly afraid of doctors. I still didn't understand how doctors were really supposed to act and that they couldn't do whatever they wanted to you without your permission. Besides, the principle didn't believe a word I was saying as it stood. She abruptly cut me off and informed me that she KNEW that I was simply lying, she could tell just by looking at me that I was obviously a druggy, and a popular boy from the school had told her that I tried to sell him drugs. She even told me exactly who the boy was and then I knew -- he happened to be a boy who had approached me a week or so prior and asked me if I knew where he could get some drugs for a big party he was going to. I told him I didn't have any drugs and I didn't use them, but I'd let him know if anyone told me they were selling at the school. This was stupid of me, but he wanted to buy drugs and he was cute and I didn't want to look like a total nerd, even if I didn't use anything or know where to buy anything. Back to the principle's office, there was nothing I could say other than to continue denying the accusations while she kept cutting me off and continued telling me that I was a rotten liar. I even told her that the boy she had referred to had actually approached me to ask about where he could buy drugs and that I'd let him know I didn't have any. However, she refused to believe me about this too. She told me that she'd find out if I tried to sell drugs again at her school and then she'd expel me or worse if she could. After this, I was promptly and cruelly dismissed. I walked out of her office feeling numb and betrayed and weak on my watery legs. Was everyone just crazy all of a sudden? I headed back to my class struggling with all my might to just not cry. Today I can't recall if I cried anyway, but probably I did. Soon after this day I started noticing how nearly all of my teachers stared at me strangely and then turn their backs in disgust. Eventually, I also heard those same teachers gossiping amongst themselves about how I was the druggy girl of the school while throwing their glances my way briefly to indicate who they were talking about (to each other) and maybe checking to make sure I wasn't close enough to hear them. The trouble was that I was terribly sick and in many ways disabled by then, but the one thing I wasn't was deaf. My hearing was as keen as ever and I heard what these teachers whispered about me. No body cared about the truth and no body cared about me. I didn't know what to do anymore. There were no answers. I should mention that my dad never molested me, nor did he ever look at me in a sexual way. I believe he didn't see me as a teenager with some development when he was yanking those blankets away. He just saw me as a kid that wouldn't get up to go to school and my mom needed help making me obey. |
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