last updated: may 28th, 2003
note: i know this is reeeally long. and boring. but i decided my site needed more content. so, voila. a bio.
well, of course this starts out with my birth. yep. it happened 12:02 pm, august 26, 1985. i was one of the last babies born in our local hospital. i was a whole month late (meaning i was in my mom for a whole ten months. probably an early sign of what a procrastinator i would be). but i was only about six pounds, ?? ounces. with lots of hair and long nails. ick.
and then onto early childhood. hmm. not a whole lot to write here. i was raised with a normal family. two parents, an older brother. my brother never really beat me up or anything. he never paid much attention to me. oh well. i spent most of my time as a kid inside, watching tv. the neighbor kids didn't like me much. i didn't like them either.
one night when i was five i was forced to eat spaghetti (something i still detest to this day). my parents told me, "if you eat all of it, you can have a cat." and so i tried, and about halfway through the meal my mom left, and about ten minutes later she came back with a meowing box. before she could even close the door properly behind her, a kitten popped the lid off, leaped out, and ran behind our living room couch. i never did finish my spaghetti. about a week later i was thinking of frisbees, and then i tried to associate the word with a cat's name...and, voila: fuzzbee.
over the years she got fatter and lazier. and i loved her more.
not much happened for a few years after that. i didn't have many friends. maybe one or two. and that suited me just fine. when i turned ten i got boobs and, well, everything else before the other girls. i was the tallest in my grade. got my first boyfriend that year. when i was ten people mistook me for fourteen. and for years following the boys mainly associated me with boobs. and that's about it. i stopped growing vertically when i was eleven.
as the sixth and seventh grades rolled around, a few of the other kids caught up to and surpassed my height. i was sort of relieved.
for my thirteenth birthday i received a cd player. quickly my tastes turned from ben folds five to korn and other stupid metal crap. i'd sit in my room all day and just listen to korn for hours on end. i thought i was real cool and special for liking korn. i was absorbed. a couple months later i became a little depressed. and then a little more. and more. i only had one friend in the world. and i, like every other fucking teenager with a webpage, started cutting myself and was clinically diagnosed as 'severely depressed' or something like that. i was so stupid. i actually carved with a kitchen knife the KoRn logo into my left inner ankle (at 4 AM on a school night/morning). i cut almost a centimeter deep. it bled a lot. i had gym first class that morning. i was all shaky and stuff. obviously the scar is still there today. in catechism classes one day i guess my sleeve must have accidentally slipped and somehow a couple girls in my class saw my cuts, went home, and told their parents. their parents called the education director of my church. my mom is the secretary of the church, so of course she told her. and my mom talked with me. made me show her my arm. she told me how 'sick' i was to actually be able to do something like that to myself. she made me start to see a counselor. he didn't help. all he did was prescribe paxil. all it did was make me tired all the time.
one night/morning of march in my seventh grade year, i was up doing my homework at about 3 AM. as usual. and i was listening to bush's sixteen stone on my 'boom box.' and i just went numb. i sobbed. i vomited. i was overwhelmed. a bush lyric kept playing in my head, "i'm never alone. i'm alone all the time." i could not go on. i got the kitchen knife, went into the bathroom, slashed my wrists as deep as the blade would allow (but in the wrong direction), held my wrists under the hot water in the sink, and waited. and of course nothing happened. desperate, i opened the medicine cabinet. grabbed a bunch of random pills. swallowed them. went in my room. wrote a suicide letter. sobbed. finally my parents heard me and came to see what was up. my mom saw my wrists. so i told her that i had swallowed a bunch of shit. they called the hospital. drove me to the ER at five in the morning. i laid there while they shoved a hose up my nose down to my stomach. vomited. they pumped out all the shit in my stomach. they pumped charcoal stuff into me. vomited some more. they pumped some more in. then i passed out. i vaguely remember riding in the ambulance. we went to the closest 'city,' which was a forty-five minute drive. a few hours later i woke up and vomited some more black shit all over myself, fell asleep again. a nurse changed my clothes into the usual hospital gown while i was still passed out. saw my korn carving. showed my mom. a while later i woke up again and puked and asked where the fuck i was. later my new shrink came in and told me i'd have to spend a week in the psychiatric floor of the hospital on the top floor. and it wasn't fun.
when i came back to school, everybody knew about what had happened. a nurse at the local hospital had blabbed what i did to her daughter, and she in turn told the whole fucking school. my parents wrote a letter to the hospital. she got fired. then my shrink put me on depakote for a short while. didn't do much good.
about a month later, just two days after the columbine shooting, little miss prep of my grade thought it'd be real cute to tell our counselor that i threatened to kill her. so the counselor told my mom. she told my shrink. i went back to the psychiatric floor of the hospital for another week or two. i was pissed. there i met a guy named cory. he was quiet and dark and weird. and reeeeally skinny. i thought he looked cool. we exchanged email addresses. another guy there named matt (who was there for threatening to chop some girl into little pieces) took a liking to me. i didn't like him. during our group sessions at the hospital when we introduced ourselves we gave out our first and last names and what town we were from. and i did. i'll get back to him later....
and so when i came back to school somehow everybody assumed where i had been, and had assumed correctly. people started hissing at me as i passed, "psycho," "freak," and they always asked me if i planned on killing them. and the mother of that one friend i had forbade her from seeing or talking to or even having any classes with me. she actually called the school and asked them to arrange so she wouldn't ever have to interact with me. she stopped talking to me. believe me, that stings.
back to that matt guy. he remembered my last name and the town i was from. and so when he went home he called every person in the phone book from my town with my last name (and there are quite a few), until he found the right number. and after he did he started calling me every day. and then writing me letters everyday. then he went to a boys home. wrote to me about how he wanted to kill all the women who worked there. talked about how much he 'loved' me. wanted me to run away with him. talked about worshipping satan. and then after about six months of this he decided he was a 'born-again baptist' and tried to convert me. freak. he still calls me and writes me once in a while. click here to read a couple of his creepy letters.
a little while after i got out of the hospital i started communicating with cory (the skinny guy) over the internet. then i spent the night at a friend's house somewhat near his. and we talked on the phone all weekend. somehow i talked my mom into letting me hang out with him at his house for a day, although he was just this stranger from the mental ward of the hospital. and then he asked me out. and we went out for about nine months. *shrug* during this time i went through that oh-so-typical 'goth as fuck' phase. and after we broke up, the next nine months, i went out with eight guys. wasn't serious with any of them.
then in late july i was called by this girl, courtney, from the grade below me whom i didn't talk to much. she just happened to sit by me and some other girls at lunch. she wanted me to spend the night at her house for her thirteenth birthday. i decided to, since i hadn't left the house for a looong time. and there i met her brother, josh, who was seventeen at the time.
after her party i went out with some loser for about a month. and then courtney called me and asked me out for her brother. and i agreed, since i really didn't like the guy i was going out with anyway. and josh was cute.
and so josh and i went out for fifteen months and a half, broke up for a period of about eight months (during which time i dated a loser retard lazy piece of shit named reece), and became involved again. but, of course, the second time around didn't last any more than a month. he's a stupid hick that i have nothing in common with.
i pierced my tongue (by myself) on august 16th, 2001. on christmas eve i was playing with it or something and my mom saw it. we had a little talk. she told me how 'sick' i am. but she didn't tell my dad, and didn't make me take it out. i also have my navel pierced, my ears twice each, and i have a tattoo of an iron-cross thing on my lower-right belly (yes, it did hurt).
in early december '01 i got a hamster for christmas, and i guess she's named hammie (the name just kind of stuck) and i love her probably too much.
i'm seventeen now, will be eighteen and a senior in august. i'm on effexor for depression. i have my license and drive around a little gray '86 grand am. i get pretty decent grades (except in P.E. i am the least athletic person ever. i can't even run a block without hyperventilating. my best time for running the mile was 14 minutes. and i grayed out afterward), but i'd probably get all A's and B's if i wasn't so fucking lazy.
i don't know where i plan to go to college; i have lately been considering the possibility of attending an art college. since march 9th i've been dating a guy named eric who's 19. he's in college and before we were dating i had a crush on him for nearly 4 years. we were friends with the same friends, and got along pretty well for a long time, and one day he called me up and we hung at my place. we just kind of 'hooked up' that night and it's been going pretty well since. he's quite a hippie, and we have so very much in common. it's a relief, indeed.
wow. wasn't this just the most interesting bio ever?