When I left my mother’s home at 16 years old, I would venture into a lot of different places to call home over the next two years. At one point it was anywhere from a few days on a friends couch to 3 months at a neighbors home. I stayed with my brother’s briefly as well. I lived in a car that belonged to my fiance at the time. It was an adventure.
My focus was each day to somehow get to school. School was my safe place. I knew I could sleep in the nurse’s office if I needed to and there was at least one meal a day that I could eat. I learned that a few teachers were really good at listening to me. I got myself into a group on campus that met about once a month. It was for children who had parents who were alcoholics. I felt like I was part of something when I sat and listened to these other kids my age talk about what they were going through. Some worse, some better. It began my reality of thought about talking about my situation would make it better. Better than keeping the secrets in and bottling it up. This group was just what I needed at the time. There was a lack of understanding on my part, that the lady that led this group could do nothing to help me in my physical situation. But her guidance and listening ear and words of advice were planted in me and would help beyond anything physical.
I was very involved in the peer counseling club at school. We met during lunch and it was a good group fo very down to earth people. Some were going through some mess at home and some weren’t. It was a place to feel safe and I felt safe. One lunch time I was in this room and the police officers from the campus came in to walk to me. It seemed that my mother decided that I needed to be placed in a mental hospital. I had already been out of her home for quite some time. It came as shock to me. But I respected authority and went with the officers. I was taken in a police car to this mental hospital called Bayview in Chula Vista.
When I arrived at the hospital I was placed in room that was very barren and could hear the voice of my mother down the hall somewhere. She was sure and admitant about one thing. I needed to be admitted. She said nothing to me that day. Others had to listen to her. She wouldn’t even look at me. As she left me there, I could see her walking out upset as always.
I stayed at Bayview for 10 days. That was all that the health insurance would allow. I think I may have been able to call and talk to my father while I was there asking him if he could pay for me to stay there. First time in years I was able to have food on a regular basis and a safe place to rest. I remember my dad wouldn’t help me. I made the most of my time at this place I was at. I attended every group that was offered and I had a lot to say. I answered any questions with the truth that I knew needed to be told. At one point, I remember one of the leaders of the groups asking me why I was there. She said I had no problems talking about my situation or what I felt about it and thought that it was pretty healthy that I did not shut down like many others. What was I in fear of? The truth? Hardly. If talking about it meant me being sane, I was going to do it. I did not care about judgements from others as they had not lived my life. I shared about my mother and all that she had said and done. I shared about my family life. I did not hold back. There would have been no point. Secrets were not going to stay with me.
At the end of the ten days, no one knew what to do with me. I was still a minor and had no where to live. My mother was no where to be found. Someone needed to take custody of me. I was taken by police car to the police station were I would wait until one of my brothers would come and get me. I waited a few hours. The police station was not getting a call back from any family that would be willing to take me, or at least sign me out. The police talked about taking me to a place called Polinsky center, a place I had heard of but was not familiar enough with. What I had heard about it was that it was a place for kids with troubles. The thought of going there scared me a bit. Right at the last minute before the police were going to take me there, one of my brothers showed up and took me to his place. He made it clear that I could not stay with him.
Within an hour, I had a friend come and pick me up. I was able to get the car back that I was using and stayed with this friend on his couch for a few weeks. When I left there I stayed with some women. I later found out the friend I had stayed with was telling people I was sleeping with him and that is how I was paying him for rent. This was not the truth.
The ladies I ended up staying with was a mother and two daughters. The daughters were right around my age. One was out of high school already and the other one was still in high school. I was able to stay on their couch. Since I was still a minor, I could not get a job and that was always a hard thing for whoever I lived with as very difficult for me. I did not want to impose on anyone more than I needed to. I went without food unless it was offered to me. I did not sneak food from others or go down that route. I became quiet and tried to stay out of the way. I learned that from being with my mother but also from being with many room mates. I did not want to get in trouble with anyone. I had enough to deal with at that point.
The apartment I shared with these women became a place where many men stayed on the weekend. The ladies I lived with volunteered at the USO and I also quickly became a volunteer there as well. I saw countless military men go in and out of the those bedrooms, sometimes with the mom and sometimes with the daughter. I knew what they were doing as I slept on the couch and got a front row seat to most encounters. These women did not work, they got these men to pay for their rent and bills in exchange for sex and whatever other stuff they did for them. I was grateful to have a place to stay. The men, well they did not really bother me or touch me as I had nothing really to offer them. The ones that came over were looking for something I did not have. I was protected in that way, maybe it was because I was under age and the men were not, I do not really know.
There would be a day when I would fall for one of these men. He was not much older than me and he was in the Marines. We would have sex quietly on the couch and soon I would end up pregnant. We were going to get engaged but he changed his mind. I was about 4 months pregnant when he got orders to go to the Phillippians. I would not hear from again until after our son was born. He made it clear we would not be together.
Quiet Intensity 