Runaway.

I’ve always done my best to approach situations with empathy - actually, I just do because it’s who I am - and I think it’s one of the reasons I’ve gotten as far as I have in life. I don’t know if I was born this way or if I became this way because of all of the hardships I went through and I don’t think it really matters. I just know that I will always do what I can to help someone so that they never have to feel what I have felt during my years on this earth; alone, unstable, scared, depressed, anxious, unworthy, unloved, unlovable…I know I can’t control how someone feels, but I can do my best to help them see things in a way that they can’t. Perspective.

I had no support system in NC. None. I actually moved to South Carolina first; I lived in Charleston for a year. The move was spawned by a horrific betrayal. My best friend started sleeping with my boyfriend. The love of my life, my first love, the guy who I was pen pals with after we went to Greigs Farm Camp when we were 8, we lost our virginity to each other…I was wildly, madly in love with him. I have never loved anyone the same or as much as I loved him. It did something to me emotionally that I can’t even explain. I packed my stuff the summer after I found out and left.

I didn’t know anyone in SC, I had never been there before and I didn’t have a job waiting for me. I left with what I could fit in my car and the money in my checking account which was about $600. I was 27…and it was the second time I had done something like that. The first time I was 20 and I moved to West Palm Beach, Fl., but that was more for fun and an adventure. Wanderlust. At least that’s what I told myself, but when I look back now it was just me running away from all the painful shit that happened to me.

When I moved to FL., I had found a roommate online before going - which was not as safe to do then as it is now - who luckily turned out to be a really cool guy. I met a beautiful boy - Drew - who lived across from me in my apartment building and became my boyfriend. He became incredibly emotionally abusive. In my time there I saw him and his friend get stabbed in front of me which subsequently resulted in me having to hide out at some guys house that they were friends with for a month. I watched him punch a friend of mine in the face for saying “hi” to me. (Not joking.) One night me, Drew, and some friends were going out to eat. We were pulling out of our apartment complex and all of a sudden our car was surrounded. The guy who he punched in the face had his friends help him pull Dan out of the car, mace him and beat the shit out of him. I had 2 miscarriages with him. And eventually, I found out he had a girlfriend who lived in Michigan who I am still friends with and talk to occasionally. I, eventually, was like…what the FU*K am I doing?!?!?!!? And moved home. I was so broken. So broken. I was broken when I moved down there. What I was when I got back…I don’t even know.

Drew was in Fl. going to school at the Culinary Institute. When he graduated he moved to Hudson and opened a restaurant. He got married and had 3 kids. He left his daughters birthday party and committed suicide about 4 years ago.

When I say that the few things you’ve just read are the tip of the iceberg…the cliffs notes…I mean it. My life…has been absolutely insane. But I believe all of it will serve a purpose and I believe it has in ways that I just might not see. Or want to see.

I have always done everything alone. Early on, it wasn’t an option to have help, and so as I grew up and grew older, it just became ingrained in my personality. I’ve always had a lot of friends, people that love me; but I’ve always felt like a burden to people so I never let anyone help me. I’ve always taken care of myself. Although, I wasn’t really taking care of myself earlier in life, I was surviving. Everything I did was about survival. In truth, it still is. And the aftershock of the earthquake that was my life altering abusive relationship has placed me in a constant state of fight or flight mode.