screams from bad dreams break the nightime silence

this morning i came upstairs with my messy hair standing up, eyes heavy from fatigue, and no voice.  KC’s mom, Jessie, smiled, and motioned for me to sit down at the table.  i knew i looked like i had been through a battle for my life… where i lost.

JESSIE:  “Morning LT, you want some juice?”

ME:  …ah….um… <yawn>

JESSIE:  “Maybe a Dr. Pepper would be better?  Yes, that sounds better.”

Jessie grabbed a dr. pepper out of the frig, put some crushed ice into a glass and poured the soda into the glass.  she placed the glass on the table near me and sat down.

ME:  …thanks.

JESSIE:  “You are welcome.  It looks like you had a rough night.”

ME: …yeh

JESSIE:  “Bad dreams?”

ME: … yeh.  how’d you know?

JESSIE:  “Well, you look pretty tired, … almost like a truck ran over you too.  And…well… I heard you screaming when I woke up to get some tylonal and a drink.”

ME:  …. oh, im sorry Jessie….  i … i… didnt mean to wake you up with a headache.   …oh…

JESSIE:  “No, no LT.  You did not give me a headache.  I woke up with one and came down to the kitchen to get a drink of juice and to take some tylonal.  It wasn’t you.  I just heard you…

<pause>

JESSIE:  “It sounded horrible.”

ME:  <deep sigh>… its horrible

there was a silence at the kitchen table.  i could feel Jessie looking at me, as i was looking at my dr. pepper.  i did not know what to say.  i did not know how much to say…. but in all honesty, in a weird way, i wanted some comfort from her.

i have bad dreams so frequently.  if you read my blog regularly you have seen blog posts about them.  i have had bad dreams for as long as i can remember.  the BEST help for my bad dreams came from Miss Liz, my very first foster mom.  when i came to her, i was hurting, scared, and little.  my feelings were acted out in my behaviors during the day and screams of terror at night.

Miss Liz would come into my room and gently wake me if i was still sleeping or comfort me with her voice if i was terrified and awake.   i never wanted to be touched or held, because i was terrified that it would lead to hurt and more pain. touch was bad to me.  her soothing voice was what helped me.  she would “orienant” me to where i was; describing the room, the colors, what was around me, telling me i was safe.  she would hand me a stuffed animal and my piece of blanket ribbon if they were lost to me.  she would sit there and sing sometimes.  as things calmed down, she would ask me questions like “what color was the dream LT?”  i would always respond black or purple, because they were dark to me.  she would then say something like “Feel the rays of yellow I am sending to you.”  it doesnt make sense really, but i knew that yellow was a “happy” color.  Miss Liz was a beautiful lady, who would sit with me as i battled the demons in my dreams.  She helped me back then…

… as I sat there at the kitchen table with Jessie, I wanted some help too.  But I didn’t know what.

all that came out was…..  … its horrible…

Jessie reached her hands across the table and gently placed her hand on my left hand (wristjack hand).  i felt her soft but strong hand resting on mine.

JESSIE:  “I bet it is horrible.  I am sorry that you have them.  Hopefully some day they will be gone.”

her words and her hands felt comforting.  i didnt pull my hand back, i didnt freak out from “touch,” i didnt tell her not to touch me.  i just sat there… in the morning, with my messy hair, looking like i fought a war and lost…. but with a “mom” trying to help me feel better.

…for once…that was a nice way to wake up from a night of terrible dreams…

a shoddy attempt at a thank you

To my readers and the “blog crew,”

I want to extend my sincere thanks to you.

Your comments and thoughts are much appreciated,

Many times, when I read them I feel less hated.

.

I wish I could respond to each and every one,

I just can’t do it, time-wise, the blog would be done.

But know that I read and think about the input,

Without your comments, this blog would be kaput.

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At times I can be in the “depths of despair***”,

I write to release and not to scare.

At times I may cry out in tremendous pain,

Feelings so powerful, they are hard to contain.

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At times I can seem so young-at-heart,

Like life is giving me a fresh new start.

At times I may seem like a very small child,

With thoughts and emotions completely wild.

This blog might be filled with highs and lows,

My life in writing, as my world grows.

So therefore to you, readers and “crew,”

I appreciate the comments that you do.

***Does anyone know where “depths of despair” came from?  (Hint:  movie about a foster child)

.

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in a small way, i feel i have grown

 

i spent alot of time thinking about this blog yesterday.  KC was at her grandparents, so i was hanging around alone.  as i was thinking, i realized a couple things:

1) the negative comments that appear on my blog distract from the purpose

2) i used alot of energy trying to respond to a “fake person” when i could use that energy responding to readers with REAL questions, concerns, or issues about foster care and growing up in it

3) no matter what i write to a blog bully, it doesnt matter, because they probably never read it

4) i write about my life.  i write about changes that need to occur.  i write about the effects of child abuse, instability, abandonment, poverty, lack of education, and growing up in foster care.  i share my thoughts about changes.  i share my experiences.  they are NOT unique…anyone can google “aging-out of foster care” and read about other young people like me (or google any foster care/child abuse terms)

someday when i can get to college to become a social worker, i will make huge changes, but now maybe others reading this will be in the position to help… one step at a time, one person at a time.

5)  i call for action for change… foster care reform, ending child abuse, improving education, better treatment of children.  how is this a negative thing?   i provide ideas for change based on my experiences and feelings.  in a small way, i am trying to light a fire for change and to make people think, because the reality is that there are thousands of kids who were in foster care and NOT making it, right now.

.

.

.

 

because of the recent blog bullies, i thought about the following:

a) going private.  but this would take away from the purpose of reaching people involved in foster care issue.

b) moderating comments.  (still thinking about this.)

c) ignoring any and all blog bullies.  deleting their comments immediately.

… and the winner is C.   i will NO longer respond to blog bullies and all negative, degrading, hurtful, evil, mean, cruel, hateful, comments will be deleted.  fuck them to distract from trying to improve things for children.  fuck them.

.

Now… let’s get back to my life… and trying to make changes for kids!

Foster kids and butterflies…Click Here

.

 

77 and whatever and anonymouse — FUCK OFF

 

YOU ARE WRONG and COMPLETELY MISINFORMED

Instead of using multiple names, why not use your true self — cowards hide behind multiple internet IDs…

For someone with a “master’s degree” you know nothing…..

For someone who “works in the system” you know nothing…

For someone who claims to have “aged-out” you know nothing…

Now…Click on the green links to learn something…..

 

=================================================

“I’ve spent a lot of time this week reading your entries and I have serious doubts about this blog. A lot of what you say really doesn’t add up. Foster children who age out stay in the system until they are 21 and that’s been true nationwide since way before you would have aged out if you are in your early twenties.”

WRONG.  it is NOT nationwide…

california = 18    laws trying to be changed!

another california    ” And 50% of foster youth in L.A. County, where I live, will become homeless or incarcerated within two years of aging out of the system.”

washington = 18 and he only had $100 (READ THIS!!)

florida=18  (with video!!!!)

age increase just happened in delaware  

delaware – “most leave when they 18“

utah story at 18

arizona out at 18

virginia at 18  (with video!!)

mass has strings attached

excellent video of a boy aging-out onto the streets

PBS documentary that says “some states allow kids to age-out at 21, other states make them age-out at 18, but even those states that permit them to stay longer, pressure them to move out sooner!!!”

About 20 states give former foster kids Medicaid health insurance until they are 21, but only a handful provide money for housing and food beyond age 18, says Gary Stangler of the Jim Casey Youth Opportunities Initiative, a foundation to help teens leaving foster care. It co-authored the report.    USA TODAY

===============================================================

“It makes no sense that you’d be homeless.”

right?

from foster to homeless

In California, 65% of youth leaving foster care do so without a place to live.

“Nation wide it’s just a fact that a large majority of our homeless population are children that grew up in foster care,” says Darla Ingram of the Amarillo Child protective Services.

=============================================================

“You would have been put in special education and you would not write as well as you do if you had/have as many learning disabilities as you say you do.”

yawn ..i was in special ed in some schools.  some i was not.  said that when i first started writing.  have you ever gone to an inner city school?  you think the educational services are good there?

and yes, i can write about my life.  the words come and i type..   i can not read well, not even what i type.  i have said that since day 1.

how many foster kids have the right schooling?  look up the statistics

6 high schools here..

A survey of former foster children found that they “strongly believed that they had been shifted around too much while in foster care, and as a result, they suffered, especially in terms of education.

10 different schools between the ages of 5 and 18

On average, foster children move to new foster homes and into new schools one to two times per year,” said Sen. Mary Landrieu (D-La.),

============================================================

“Any man who raped and stabbed a seven year old child would get life in prison or even death so you wouldn’t be fearing that he can still find you.”

WRONG AGAIN. 

different felonies have different prison time.  some murders are out in 5 years, some are out in 25 years, some are away for life.

most prisoners NEVER spend the time they are given.  they are paroled.  usually most only spend about 1/3 of the time they are sentenced. and in fact, my father spent more than 1/3 of his time in prison.  longer than most, under the circumstances.

do some research on prison and the criminal justice system…

table showing sentence lengths in CT — look at CLASS A FELONY

here is another story of a man with aggravated sexual assault and the man was only given 15 years

this pervert got NO jail time

child rapist given 20-40 released on parole for good behavior

raped 2 young girls, only 7 1/2 years

one year for a child rapist

murderer who was ONLY sentenced to 10 years, but was released at 8 years

21 murderers released from prison early

convicted murderer spent only 18 years in prison

sentenced to life for child murder, out in 28 years for good behavior

child killer and rapist, multiple offender, released after only 12 years

killed hundreds of children  – only 20 years

===================================================

“Most children in foster care do not move as many times as you claim to have moved although I’ve recently read another absurd blog that makes claims of having lived in three times as many homes. At least you chose a feasibly high number of homes. I’ve been working in the system for 11 years. I’ve seen a lot and know the ins and out of the system so I feel obligated to say that the system works a lot differently than the way you have written about it.”

WRONG

girl moved 40 times before the age of 12

David had 20 placements

more than 20 placements

lived in four homes LAST YEAR (and aging out at 18)

11 groups homes in 4 years (kid in college now)

On average, foster children move to new foster homes and into new schools one to two times per year,” said Sen. Mary Landrieu (D-La.),

14 group homes

============================================================

“There are systems in place to help children age out. Teens are not just thrown out as you say you have been.”

WRONG

what happens to kids aging out

no employment

from foster care alumni association — scroll to the bottom for statistics

PBS documentry

======================================================

“It’s such a shame that there are people creating stories like this for pity. There are children with real stories of hardship who are silently suffering in foster care. These blogs are not doing them any justice by telling radical stories for pity. There are enough problems with the system. There are too many “aged out” bloggers who are looking for attention and sympathy and frankly I am tired of it. It’s reminding me of all these fake soldier stories out there. Now there are fake foster kids. We don’t need story tellers to change the system. We need the truth. If I were you, I’d delete this thing before people call you out for the inaccuracies in this blog. I’m praying for your soul.”

creating stories?  a disservice? … who in their wildest mind would create stories for nothing?

i have been blogging for almost 2 years.  i have an ENTIRE section devoted to trying to help foster parents understand foster children. i try and answer questions from people regarding the foster care system and foster children.  i have given multiple suggestions and ideas for improvement of the system.

i have never taken a thing. .. even when i have nothing.

you are a problem and have been bothering me and my blog for awhile.  just go away.  if you think you “know so much” why dont you write a blog to help, instead of attacking me who has done nothing but try and offer some help and make people think.

you are part of the problem… not part of the solution.

 

now, maybe i have educated you too…

when you are broke, money makes no sense

I AM BROKE.

  flat broke.

nothing.

not even a fucking penny.  i have not worked since April when i got hit by a freaking car.  today i went to talk to my boss, hoping that he would allow me to come back to work.  even though the wristjack is still screwed into my arm, the holes are not draining anymore and i can move three fingers.   i believe that i could do my job…probably not as fast, but i could manage.

my boss said NO

 he was concerned because part of the wristjack is screwed into my hand and that could “touch” the food, plus i would not be able to wash properly.  he did not think it would be hygienic.  my boss is VERY careful about cleanliness. we have sanitizer things on the walls and hand-washing signs, and all kinds of clean practices to make sure the restaurant is as “food safe” as possible.

…i know he is right.

but…

FUCK

I AM BROKE

i left and went back to KC’s house feeling defeated.  i got a Dr. Pepper out of the frig and some vanilla ice cream and sat down in their kitchen.  i was sitting there staring at my ice cream when Jessie came in

JESSIE: “Hi LT, what’s going on?”

ME:  nuthin

JESSIE: “You alright?  You look distracted.”

ME: … like… i went to work to see .. see if i could work.  he said NO cause the wristjack.  .. i mean… i .. understand… but… well… i gotta get some money

KC’s mom sat down with a glass of iced tea.  She sat across from me.

JESSIE:  “Oh.  I see.  You know, I think your boss is looking out for both you and the business.  You use your hands alot at work.  You touch  food and other items…you wouldn’t want to have any problems.  Like imagine if KC spilled tomato sauce all over the back of your hand?  It could be messy and could cause you some problems healing.  You know?    Do you need some money.  We told you to ask if you need some.  “

ME:  …. i know.  i just … well, i feel bad takin’ the money from you.  and i dont know how i am gonna get caught up and pay you back and eeverything…  i …. i … just feel like i am fallin more and more behind.

JESSIE:  “LT, you do not have to pay us back.  We told you that.  We enjoy having you here and enjoy the pets too.  KC really likes you.  It’s good for her to have a friend like you.”

ME:  i thought what does she mean?  bad?  shitty?  stupid?  disgusting?  horrible?  slutty?> …. like me?

JESSIE:  “Yes, someone who has overcome alot and grown to be an interesting, funny, and kind person.  You can teach her alot…because you have overcome so much…. see?”

ME:  i dunno, Jessie.  sometimes i dont overcome, but lose… i dont think id be a good teacher

JESSIE:  “You have already taught LT.  Believe me.  I know it can’t be easy all the time and I want you to know that if you ever need something, we are here.  We are not going anywhere and you are welcome anytime.  ok?. … You are a very helpful guest too!  As for the money, do you understand that you will receive some money once the lawsuit is either tried or settled?”

ME:  oh yeh.  for my bike… and for the sweatshirts, since they are all ruined now from cutting them for the wristjack…. and some money to pay my medical bills… and some for work.  …

JESSIE:  “And some for pain and suffering.”

ME:  i dont know what that is really.  i think i remember that the lawyer mentioned it, but i dont know…

JESSIE:  <kind of smiling at me> … “LT, that is money  given to you because you were injured by someone and had pain and suffering.  Obviously you had physical pain but also things like the inconvenience of having to goto multiple doctor appointments, depression that has gotten worse because your activities have been limited,  not being able to walk your dogs due to the straddle injury, mental anguish, not being able to care for yourself… see?  “

ME:  oh.  i see.

JESSIE:  “LT, do you understand?  How much money do you think we are talking about?”

ME:  dunno.  couple hundred and a bike and some new sweatshirts….  i didnt ask for anything really.  but i really need a new bike.  … the frame is bent and ….

JESSIE:  “Um, sweetie… I think you are going to be shocked.  We are talking about alot more than a couple hundred dollars…. As it gets closer to the time when you are done seeing doctors and you are healed from the accident, the lawyer will talk with you about this… to get an idea of all the ways the accident affected you.”

i just sat there and stared at her.  i didn’t really understand.  a couple hundred bucks is ALOT of money to me.

ME:  oh. 

JESSIE:  “Well, we will have to wait to see what happens, but I think you will be surprised.  We will be here to help you understand if you have questions…ok?”

ME:  ok.  yeh… thanks Jessie.

i crookedly smiled at her and shrugged my shoulders.  we continued to sit in the kitchen talking about different things.  maybe i didn’t understand because i never have any money.  a couple hundred would be nice… i could get Moonlight and Shadow new beds and Harbor another cat tree since my new apartment has a bedroom now.  then they would have comfy spots in the bedroom and the living area.

i just need enough to get back to my life… and probably to most people, thats not much…

sometimes things seem impossible…

the dumbass strikes again

today KC had to goto her college to pick something up from the studio.  she asked me if i wanted to go and check it out.  i had nothing to do, so i went along.  i did not really know that college still goes on during the summer.  i thought it would be closed or at least i didnt think students would be around.  we pulled into the campus and KC had to park at a meter on the street.  she told me she does not have a parking pass for the garages.  i thought it would be pretty cool to see what a big university was like.  i had been there once to attend KC’s art show, but that was only one building.

we got out of the car and started walking towards a big building that had a statue in front of it.  KC was talking and i was listening.  then we turned the corner and i heard “Hey KC… wait up!”  KC turned around and waved to 2 girls that were walking quickly towards us.  i suddenly got real nervous and could feel myself biting my lower lip.  KC said “LT, those 2 goto school with me.  They are art majors too!”    I mumbled “cool,” but didnt feel too cool.

frostys for foster kids and friends need to be bigger

 

i cant sleep and my wrist is really aching, so i am not going to write much… but i just gotta tell you a funny story.  i am still laughing when i think about it…

as i told you all, this past weekend was when  Wendy’s donated 50¢ for every Frosty purchased to the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption.  so of course, after picking strawberries, KC, me, Page, and Amy decided to drive-thru Wendy’s and get some frostys.  please remember that i love sweets and can eat alot and my friend KC can eat alot too… sometimes i think more than me.

so we ordered 4 oreo parfait frostys because none of us had ever had one.  i think they were $1.79 each, but that didnt really matter, because the money was going to a great cause and we were dying for something sweet.  i think KC was drooling.

we got up to the window and KC paid.  then the Wendy’s employee started handing KC the oreo parfaits.  KC’s mouth dropped and she looked at us and then said to the employee “where is the rest?… that’s it?”    they were SOOOO small, they were sized for babies.  OMG.  hahahaha.  i burst out laughing because literally i could have eaten it in one, maybe two swallows.   LOL

we parked in a spot and joked about the size as we ate them.  i understand the world is worried about their weight, but we arent, at least not yet.  there needed to be more size choices.   i do have to say the oreo parfait frosty was FABULOUS and very chocolately.  totally yummy!

KC finished hers first.  without saying another word, she started the car.  i figured we were leaving to get back on the highway to head back to the city…but NOPE.   KC, pulled out and went back into the drive-thru line.   i couldnt get a word out before KC had ordered 8 more oreo parfaits –  2 more for each of us.  LOL.

it was the SAME employee that helped us the first time… and she started to laugh too.

isnt it awesome and hysterical that i managed to find a friend that does a double-drive-thru …for frostys?

the struggle of a strawberry…and of foster kids

The other night i could not sleep at all.  Some of it was my usual “i cant sleep” problems, but some of it was because i was still feeling thrilled from a day of strawberry picking with KC.  i have NEVER done that before and the thrill of looking for the “brightest, juiciest” strawberries was still in my bones.  So, since i couldnt sleep and we know i really like analogies… i began thinking about how strawberries are alot like foster kids.

Really, they are.  Follow me here on my latest analogy…

Strawberries

A strawberry field is HUGE.  There are hundreds of plants in the field and a farmer must care for the strawberries properly, so that they grow.  If they don’t get enough water or food or sunlight, they will die.  If berries only get the minimum, they may grow, but they won’t thrive to be the best strawberry possible.  If they get too much water, they may die.  Strawberries are sensitive fruits.  If the farmer only provides minimum care, the berries will just barely hang on, fighting to survive.

Strawberries must be attached to the vine to grow.  If they are not attached or only half-attached, the berries are doomed.  But if the attachment is strong and the needs are met, the strawberries will grow, mature, and burst into a beautiful red delight.

At some time during the season of the berries,  the farmer makes the decision when picking season can start…

Once the farmer approves the berries for picking, people come from all over to pick from the huge field. They pay money to make a selection.  There are many berries to select from,  thousands and thousands.  But everyone is looking for the “perfect” strawberry.  The best, the juiciest, the redest, the sweetest.  No one wants to take the “bad” berries or the deformed berries or the berries that seem to have problems making it.  Nope.  No-one wants the “damaged berries.“

.

The perfect berries get picked quickly and people “ooo” and “aaa” over them with excitement.  These perfect berries go home with the pickers and fit perfectly into fulfilling the need or want of the person who picked the berry.  They maybe used to make a perfect strawberry shortcake, bursting with beauty or used for a wonderful fruit salad.  The perfect strawberry is super satisfying.

But the “bad” berries hang onto the vines in the field for weeks, because no-one picks them.  People may come by and look at the strawberry, but after a quick glance over or evaluation, the pickers move on… still looking for the best berry, not the damaged one.  The damaged or bad  berries eventually die or fall off the vine into the field, where they will be trampled on, kicked around, or eaten by a preditor.  Many of these strawberries never make it.   Those that arent detroyed by preditors, shrivel in the field, alone… and die.

.

Foster kids

The number of children in foster care is HUGE.  There are over 500,000 kids in foster care and over 120,000 waiting to be adopted.  Foster parents must care for the children properly; providing food, water, shelter from the elements, and clothing so that the child grows.  This is the MINIMUM.  Like strawberries, children need more than the minimum to thrive.  A child needs love, support, attention, and caring to thrive, heal, and grow into being the best adult possible. Like strawberries which are a sensitive fruit, foster children are sensitive; their world has taught them harsh lessons that they may feel shame or guilt about.  Foster parents that only provide the minimum, will not see improvement in the child; as the child will just barely hang on to survive.

did i make all these fathers hate me?

today is fathers day.  ask me if i care?  not really.  in the past, i only knew it was a day because of the TV commercials or the chatter of the work crowd, but i never really gave a flying fuck.  well, now i am staying at KC’s house and she has a father.  her father is really different than most fathers i have experienced in my life.

and it makes me wonder… what did i do to make so many fathers hate me?

am i really disgusting?  ugly?  hideous?  bad?  evil? … what?

i watch KC and her father interact.  he touches her gently and not in any sexual manner what-so-ever.  he laughs with her and she laughs with him.  they talk to each other.  KC asks for advice.  he doesnt yell, call her names, hit, or threaten her in any way.  in fact, he is pretty gentle and happy. KC is not scared of him.

i felt like a happy little kid today…

.

… because KC took me to do something

…i NEVER did before….

Guess…

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KC is kicking my ass off the couch

i am so tired of seeing doctors.  since i got hit by the car in April, i have seen more doctors than i have in my ENTIRE freaking life, i think.  i am sick of it.  i just want to be “normal” and free!

today i saw three doctors and spent the WHOLE freaking day waiting… waiting… and seeing doctors.

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eat a FROSTY for foster kids …. this weekend, please

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This weekend (June 18-19th)

Buy a Wendy’s Frosty

50¢ will go towards

the

 Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption.

.

..you know i dont plug much, but this foundation works to get foster kids adopted… even the hard to place kids!!!

Look here…..

“Wendy’s Wonderful Kids is making a difference for thousands of children—one child at a time. The Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption awards grants to public and private adoption agencies to hire adoption professionals who implement proactive, child-focused recruitment programs targeted exclusively on moving America’s longest-waiting children from foster care into adoptive families.” (Dave Thomas Foundation)

**SO…if you want to support foster kids, this weekend is your chance….

Have a classic frosty

Have a frosty shake

Have a frosty float 

Have a frosty parfait

Just have a FROSTY!!!

.

… because the more money this foundation has…

the more people are hired to work on getting…

“waiting” kids into forever families!

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**Oh yeah, goto this website and if you have FACEBOOK or TWITTER, tweet the message and $0.50 goes to the foundation!**

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i finally found a family…but its not forever

…i am moderately depressed thinking about my life and how i am currently fucked up and not able to do everything i should be doing because of my wrist (bike accident)…

i read all the supportative comments and appreciate them.  i hope that one day, the tapes that play in my head when i am triggered (i am bad, i suck, i am disgusting, i am worthless, i should kill myself, etc.) will be replaced by positive messages.  perhaps if you keep reading, in a few years with lots more therapy with Dr. Val,  i will be writing how fabulous i am.          ok, maybe not.

i wish i had something creative for you all…. maybe later in the week.

.

so...this weekend KC and her parents went to the “grandparent’s house.”  i stayed in their house while they were gone.  KC’s mom, Jessie, made me spagetti and chicken to eat while they were gone.  i thought that was super nice.  i just hung out, watched cartoons, sat on their deck and watched the clouds and birds, and thought.  i realized how “alone” i felt when everyone was gone.  i have become so used to being around people in a positive light that i missed it.

i found myself fantasizing…..

gosh, its gonna be hard to go back to being without a family….

…even if this one is only a “fantasy”…

.

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bad foster kids shouldnt blog

Today I received this comment on my blog post about needing a mom when my wrist was hurting (this post)….

The email address provided was AL C Walton (probably a fake).  but his IP address (static) came from Hammerman and Hultgren PC in Arizona … a law firm.

“I do not believe that you were a real foster kid. even if you were, i am sure if you were moved around THAT much, it wasnt just the evil foster systems fault… what were YOU doing that all of these people asked you to be moved? maybe if YOU hadnt burned all of those bridges, you would be able to go back to one of your foster moms for some love…

time to man up girlie! take responsibility for your own self and move on! stop “whining, we all have our own crosses to bear…. you are only hurting yourself and keeping yourself down with all of this misery…

I wonder if his employer would be happy to know that he is posting on blogs at work…

…especially hurtful and cruel things.

+++++

I am highlighting this, because you see… this is EXACTLY what the world thinks.  Even if i were an angel for a child, most of the world would think exactly this…

foster kids are shit.  foster kids did something.  foster kids are bad.  foster kids are worthless pieces of trash.  foster kids are dumb.  foster kids are ______ (fill in the blank).. it’s the kid’s fault

i NEVER said i did not have bad behaviors… but who wouldnt if you grew up like me?

foster care knew what they were getting when they got me.  nothing was hidden.  the abuse was known… it was written on my body when they found me…

so then i think, this fucker is right.

no-one wanted me.  i was badly behaved.  i did act out.  i did act in.   i am all the things that people think, about kids/people like me. i broke things, yelled, cursed, wrote on walls, pissed on the floor, wet my bed, stole, hid food, hoarded food, ran away, set fires (sorry hippies), hurt ME, kicked, screamed, destroyed things, did drugs, drank, etc etc.

… and then i pretty much stopped and just started hurting me more and more and more…

So….

then i think…i do take responseibility.  i do admit i am a piece of shit.  i do admit that i am an idiot. i do admit i am bad.  i do admit it all.  with the exception of housing voucher help which i just got, i have not taken a dam thing from anyone, because i take respondibility for my life and believe that i am the cause of being such a piece of shit.  maybe i shouldnt take the voucher… who am i fooling?

and then i think…maybe someone else should be writing a blog about foster care.  maybe my perspective is wrong because i was a bad kid.  maybe a blog by a good kid; one who got adopted; one who made it is a better point of view.  it’s not like too many of us age-out… most get adopted or return home.  who the hell am i to discuss foster care… because i represent some of the WORST of it… a bad kid, an unwanted kid, a not-reunited kid, not an adopted kid….  not a winner.  the reality is the percentage i represent  is so low, nobody gives a crap.  many more are adopted or reunited.  im a mistake.

the good thing about a blog is the wonderful readers that leave comments that are positive and make me think and are full of support.  the bad thing about a blog is the assholes who leave comments that hurt… but probably accurately reflect what the world thinks…

“What did you do LT, to get moved so much…..

…you must have been a really bad kid….”

yes.. i was

and i probably deserved everything i got…

the beast that is foster care

.

if foster care were an animal, what would it be…

.

a chameleon, so difficult to see,

changing colors, to deceive you and me?

.

OR

.

the queen whose hive is up in the tree…

in charge of what happens to the bee family?

.

OR

.

a giant tortoise, up from the sea …

it takes them forever, they move so slowly?

.

OR

.

a hyena, in the desert laughing wildly…

its jaws so powerful, they’ll rip you apart quickly?

.

OR

.

a giant panda, gentle and cuddly …

it cares for its young, so tenderly?

.

OR

.

a 17-year cicada, eating  in a tree …

these insects come around so rarely?

.

OR

.

a great white shark, in the ocean so free…

beware, it’s a creature extremely deadly?

.

11 years spent by me…

living in the animal kingdom, so dangerously.

kids dont belong with monkeys in trees,

kids like me, belong in FOREVER families…

learning, learning, learning … living in a family

as you know, i have been staying with my friend, KC, in her basement since getting hit by the car.  today when the house was quiet and everyone was gone, i went out on the deck and sat in the sun, watching the clouds float by and the birds fly by.  Moonlight and Shadow were with me and we all kind of dazed in and out…

so young and so insane…will i ever fix my brain?

on wednesday, i had to go to the clinic to have the stitches removed from my stomach.  a couple weeks ago, i cut myself badly enough that i needed stitches in 3 cuts on my stomach (here).  everytime i need stitches i goto the clinic and see Dr. S.  she is very nice to me, does not make fun of me, and does not judge me or reprimand me.  she takes care of the cuts, makes sure i am still in therapy, tells me to watch for infection, and lets me go.  her nurse, Nurse J, is a very gentle and kind person too.  she makes sure that i get Dr. S and not some other doctors at the clinic.  so, on wednesday afternoon, i hitched a ride with KC who went to work, and then i took a bus to the clinic.  i didnt tell KC or her family about the cutting, i just told them i had a check-up appointment at the clinic.

i got to the clinic, checked in, and took my seat.  i waited…  but since i had no where else to be, i didnt care.  Nurse J came and called my name.  i got up and walked to where she was.

NURSE J:  “Hello LT.  How are you?  How’s the wrist?  — that thing looks uncomfortable”

because of two balls… i was bawling

today i was sitting outside on KC’s deck staring at the clouds and napping.  no-one was around.  Moonlight and Shadow were hanging with me.  it was a beautiful day and the clouds were almost perfect.  from my dazed nap, i heard..

KC:  “Hey LT, Where are you?” 

ME:  <managed to moan slightly>  yeh…

KC:  “Hey!  Check these out.    Balls for the dogs!    Aren’t they cool?”     <squeak>  <squeak>

with that famliliar squeak, both Moonlight and Shadow lifted their heads and gazed directly at KC who was holding two plush balls; one pink and purple and one white and black… both with lots of fuzz inside and the ultimate prize for a dog … A SQUEAKER.

<squeak >  <squeak>

KC squeaked both at the same time….  multiple times.  the dogs stood in attention, gazing at the balls and KC.  <squeak> <squeak>   i knew the outcome of this. …

Moonlight would get hers and rip it apart in a millisecond and then chew the squeaker;  first slowly taking out the plastic plug.  within about 10 seconds she would be surrounded with fuzz and plastic, and would be looking as if she just killed a gorilla… oh so proud of herself.

Shadow would run back and forth returning it and squeaking it in her mouth.  “hey!  look at me… i am so cute and silly” <squeak>  At some point, she would succumb to peer pressure and well, “do a Moonlight” and rip it apart… leaving the plastic squeaker for Moonlight to chew.

i slightly smiled at KC as she handed the white and black ball to Moonlight, who proceeded to rip it apart.  KC then threw the other ball off the deck and Shadow went running after it.  as she turned around to talk to me, she saw that i was bawling in my chair.  tears streaming down my face, sobbing to the point of almost puking.

KC:  “LT, what’s wrong?”

ME:  <sobbing>  i …i…..i……. cant pay for those…. i. .. i… cant pay for nothing … and…a nd… i stayed here too long <sobbing> .. and i can pay for nothing cause I am broke… and…..

KC: ” LT, chill out.  It’s ok.  You don’t have to pay for these toys.  I got them for the dogs.  Besides they were only $2.99 a piece at (name of store).   I thought it would be fun.”

ME:  ….. i don’t even have $2.99 for you  <sobbing>

KC:  “I know.  I don’t expect you to pay for them.  I know you aren’t working,  It’s fine.”

ME:  no…  its not.

KC:  “Yeah its fine.”

KC took the ball from Shadow’s mouth and threw if off the deck again.  “Go get it, Shadow!!”

ME:  … <bawling> you all barely knew me and ,…. now im in your basement… and your parents are paying……. and… and….i don’t have a family…. and….and….

foster care — what did you see in my eyes?

dear foster care,

its 2:00 AM and i cant sleep, as usual.  my name is LT.  do you remember me?  skinny white kid with blond messy hair… aged 7 when you found me almost dead.  i know you remember that, because it is in the records which you keep for along time…  and  because i remember one of you telling me that “it would be ok now.”  i had been hurt pretty badly, but i felt no pain at that time… however, i felt one of your gentle hands on the side of my face.  remember me?

What did you see in my eyes? 

death

sadness

fear

confusion

peaceful calm

What did you see in my eyes?

.

oh foster care, remember me? — LT — aged 18 when you kicked my ass out with no caring in the world whether i made it or not.  not a tear shed, not a lump stuck in your throat,  or a announcement of disgust at a system kicking an 18 year old, uneducated female into the world alone…  no emotion from you.  it must be robotic if you do it enough… how many times does it take before it doesnt bother you anymore?  eh foster care?

what an interesting parallel…in a way….  i came into foster care fighting to survive and 11 years later, i was kicked out onto the streets where i was going to have to fight to survive.  life really comes full circle.  i know that you remember it, because it is in the records and i remember you asking me “where i wanted to go?”   where does a familyless, newly homeless child go?  where?

What did you see in my eyes? 

death

sadness

fear

confusion

peaceful calm

What did you see in my eyes?

oh foster care, remember me? — LT–  now a young adult, still skinny with blond messy hair.  it hasnt been that long since you kicked me out, so i know you really didnt forget, although you pretend to… if you pretend to forget about the aged-out kids, your job doesnt bother you much.  is it easy to pretend to forget?  is it easy to pretend that the street kids begging for food werent foster kids?  is it easy to pretend that the street kids turning tricks werent foster kids?  is it easy to pretend that the roof-top kids werent foster kids?   tell me, is it?

its not easy for us to forget, foster care.

guess what?  im still fighting to survive.  did you expect any different?   everyday is a battle not to blow my brains out.  everyday is a battle to get up and face the day. everyday is a challenge just to survive.  i should be in the prime of my life, instead of trying to destroy it.  is it easy to pretend to forget about us?

guess what?  i got my GED..no thanks to you.  it took me awhile, but what can you expect from someone who was kicked out in sophomore year?  i had alot to learn.  still do.

guess what?   i have one friend..no thanks to you. you moved me so much, i can barely attach to a stuffed animal, let alone a person.

but guess what?  dont celebrate success yet.  the story is not so great.  i would be homeless right now if it wasnt for my friend because i am flat broke and out of work…. not because i want to, but because i got hurt.  … and i have no family to help me.  i have no-one connected to me to help me or guide me. if my friend was not here, i would be on the streets again…   is it easy to pretend that kids dont need families or life mentors or someone?  tell me, is it?

Oh foster care, im tired of living on the brink, tired of just surviving, instead of thriving…

…let me tell you what i see when i look in my eyes…

death

sadness

fear

confusion

 peaceful calm when i think about killing myself

i know you saw the same things… and you did not help to change the vision…

can you honestly pretend to forget?