Hi. I’m Cj Jean and my life is pretty miserable.

When I was five my parents became polyamorous and married another married couple. It was interesting to say the least. I went from having two parents and a little sister to having four parents, two older sisters, an autistic older brother, two younger sisters, and a younger brother. Not to mention a crap ton of pets but that’s irrelevant. I moved cities and life changed quickly. I was doing fine until I realized that my new mother wasn’t…how do I say this, she wasn’t in the right state of mind. By that I mean she was a narcissistic asshole. None of my other parents were really home so it was just her and my siblings.

We moved again to a larger house where I still didn’t see my parents. This is now second grade. My two older sisters lived with their dad on the other side of the state so I was left to take the duties of the eldest sibling, which I wasn’t being only eight at the time. My mothers emotional abuse was on me a lot of the times because I was stubborn and didn’t take her crap. When our parents were arguing or that one time when the dog dug a hole and ran into the neighbor’s house behind us, I would be the older sibling and make sure everything was running smoothly. I grew up practically overnight but I still seemed less mature than my other “friends”. They were talking about crushes and bad words. I didn’t even know any bad words let alone about liking boys.

A few years of a nightmare passed and my dad had enough. He grabbed my mom, my sister and I, and he left. We lived in hotels for awhile not having a house. It was strange going to school everyday hearing about how kids were going to go home and play video games and ask for an animal jam membership. Currently, I didn’t even have my own bed. I had no one to talk to about it and I felt alone.

We got a house right before Christmas and little did I know that house would have the best memories of my life. It was a small town home, not at all what I was used to. At first the house seemed deafeningly quiet but then it became a peaceful sound. It was the summer before fifth grade and my sister and I were playing on our DS. It was then that we met our first of many friends in that neighborhood. Fifth grade was great. I had a great friend at school and great friends at home. I didn’t have to do chores and I was allowed to watch tv all day! My teacher was really funny and my grades were looking good. I was going to middle school the next year and I was excited to think that my life was going to be great.

And then we moved. Not cities but houses. It was a big house, that made me happy, but when I got there I realized there were no kids my age in the neighborhood. I shrugged it off and was preparing for middle school. The moment I got there I knew this was not going to be enjoyable. I befriended a girl I kinda knew from fifth grade. We’ll call her Casey. Now Casey was awesome. She had a dark humor and was an amazing artist. I quickly gained a lot of friends. And then I received my first F. It was in social studies and I was horrified. I’ve always been quite the perfectionist (probably because of the need to be perfect in my step mother’s eyes) and this was not just bad. This was horrendous. My grades quickly started dropping one by one, especially in PE. I was so grateful 6th grade was over, that was the most miserable thing I had ever experienced.

Until summer. I transformed that summer. My anxiety was through the roof so much so that I randomly started vomiting until there was nothing left to vomit except for stomach acid. I had diagnosed myself with anxiety and depression as well as insomnia. I dumped my “boyfriend” from 6th grade as I hadn’t even liked him in the first place. When I got to school I hated practically all my teachers. Life was so stressful that I just didn’t do my homework. I took honors core which was living hell. And when I got a C in that class, the teacher gave me an infinite amount of study hall. I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran away. On a Thursday night at 1 am, I left.

The feeling of freedom was amazing. The cold night surrounded me like a blanket and I loved it. I ended up walking to the nearby safe way where I knew homeless people hung out. I met this lovely woman Mary who gave me a root beer float and a place to sleep. Then I woke up. It was warm and I knew people were looking for me. I hid behind that Safeway until I felt like wandering. I met a few people who weren’t at all sketchy and really just wanted to be nice but they made me feel uncomfortable. So I walked away. As I walked I realized that life may not be so bad. I felt like giving it another chance. So I walked home. School was definitely over but of course there was a lot of things I had to deal with. After everything was done I realized.

Life did not deserve a second chance. After my “Yellow Line” incident as my friends and I called it, my parents let me switch to a school that was not as formal as a public school. It was called a Sudbury school. Let me tell you that was the best school I have ever gone to. I tried to run away again. I came back the same night. Life did not deserve that third chance. The thing was, I still had social anxiety. And though I loved the school and people in the school to death, I knew I couldn’t stay.

So for eighth grade my mom decided to home school my sister and I because it was a far more cheaper option. I love it. Its wonderful. Amazing. Yeah no. I’m lonely and have nothing to do. I’m going to go to a public high school next year and for some reason, I’m excited. I’ve changed and I’m ready to take that school by storm. I ready to sass back to the teachers, do mountains of homework, and to ignore everybody else. But I’m still miserable. I can’t sleep at night, I’m convinced something is here watching me, I can’t seem to except the tiny bit of fat on my stomach or the fact that my nose is a bit big. I still wish I could die, or run away. I still wish life were better. But I realized it won’t get better. I’ve accepted it. I’m gonna throw away my sob story and I’m going to move on. I’m going to be a new person and I’m going to laugh my way through misery. Even if it hurts.