I get tired, and it makes me mean

I just talked to a friend of mine, and she suggested that it may be my birth control pills that are somewhat to blame for my recent behavior and emotional outbursts. So that is something I'm going to look into. It never even crossed my mind that it could be my birth control pills causing some of the problems. I can tell you this much though, it's not the only factor.
Just a warning, what you are about to read may be kind of hard to swallow. Sometimes even when I replay it in my mind, I can't believe it's the life I have lived. Only people who are really close to me know this about me, but I'm done. I'm done protecting them, I'm done making excuses and telling myself it's ok. It's NOT ok. Not anymore.

I don't remember MUCH of my childhood. I honestly don't know many people who do. But those of them that DO remember parts, they always seem to only remember the happy times. I don't know if that's because they block out anything painful, or if it's because all they had were generally happy times...all I can seem to remember are the painful times. The times where I felt so alone...

My mother had me when she was 17. She had gotten pregnant by a coworker who was 10 years older than her. He wanted nothing to do with her, or with the child she was pregnant with, and who could blame him? He had made a mistake, he got a child pregnant, and I'm sure he was scared shitless. So he took off, never to be heard from again, and I still to this day have never met him. I would like to, and I would like to believe that maybe someday it might be possible...we'll see. My mom stayed single for about a year or two after I was born, I guess to finish high school maybe, or just to get her feet somewhat back on the ground. My mom was beautiful. Beautiful, and strong-willed and had a mind of her own. I just remember always thinking she was just this amazing woman who would always protect me, and keep me safe. I just never realized how wrong I could be....

She met my "dad," I call him dad because he's the only father I have ever known, though technically he's my step-father, when I was about 2 and a half, maybe three years old. He was just finishing his second year at St. Edwards University, and I BELIEVE he was working at Target. He was only about a year older than my mom, which would have made him about 20 years old. They were both still very young, and I think they really just wanted to play house. I don't think either of them were ready to be parents, but they thought it sounded like "fun" so they said, what the hell? They got married I believe a year later. They had two more kids, my brothers, and we ended up moving to San Marcos, Texas to live with his family because my mom wasn't working, and my dad was barely making minimum wage to support us. Long story short, we were poor, and we did all we could to get by.

I was about 4 years old when we moved to San Marcos, and my dad has a ton of nephews. They all lived in the same neighborhood as we did, so we would spend all day playing outside, and hanging out. When I was about 6 or 7 years old, two of his nephews molested me. I told my grandma, my dad's mom, and I just assumed she would tell my parents. I don't think she ever did, and it was kind of one of those things that got swept under the rug. No mention of it ever again after that...kind of like it never happened. Not too long after, they did the same thing to my brother, although he never said anything. Not until he turned 11 or 12 and couldn't hold it in any longer. His molestation turned out to be a lot worse than mine could have ever been, and to this day, he isn't the same. He was the sweetest boy, so open and honest and would talk to you about anything. He's hardened now, doesn't talk much about how he feels, and shuts himself off from the world. I think it was also harder for him, because he's gay. He came out when he was 15 years old, and I think it was all just very confusing for him. Even as a child, he was very feminine, always wanted to play with me and my friends, and fix our hair and paint our nails. He even went through a phase where he played with Barbie dolls. He was like the little sister I never had.

Needless to say, when my parents found out about my brother being molested, they didn't do or say much. I'm not a parent, but I can tell you for a FACT that if my son or daughter ever told me about someone hurting them, the person that hurt them would never see the light of day again, at least not for awhile. I would put them away for so long they would forget who they were. My parents didn't press charges, didn't even confront the nephews, because "they didn't want to start a lot of family drama." It was swept under the rug, and has never been brought up since. And my brother now has to live the rest of his life, not only with this great weight on his shoulders, but knowing that his parents did nothing for him. I can never look at them the same way since that happened....and this was just the beginning of things to come. The emotionally damage my parents have inflicted on my brothers and I will never leave my mind. I'm ok, I made it through all the bullshit and came out the other side just fine. Don't get me wrong, I have made my share of mistakes, and I am by no means perfect. I'm just surprised I made it out the way I did. I just worry about my brothers, they may not be as fortunate.