My Story....

(No Sugar Coating)

I was one of four, born to a hard working, poverty stricken couple..... a sweet, gentile, loving woman who had a heart big enough to please the world.... and a charismatic, alcoholic man who had a knack for either offending or charming women everywhere he went.....

My big brother, he was born with mild autism. He's the most brutally honest person I know and I love him deeply for that..... Then came my big sister, the brilliant poet. Always in the center spotlight on stage, singing, dancing, acting and such..... Then myself; the shy child, with a hand cupped over my drawing so no one could see.....

Last born was my younger sister who nearly died of Spinal Meningitis as a baby. She underwent surgery which saved her life, but not before the Meningitis had the chance of taking most of her hearing in one ear and part of the other; lip reading became a skill which she acquired at a very young age.....

Busily active and artistic as a child..... until puberty took me on a downward spy roll of depression and self mutilation, (I started cutting myself). This put a halt on my ability to deal with father’s persistent drinking problem.... I began to run away from home at age 12....

During one of those periods when I remained at home, my parents found a collection of pills in my coat pocket. They sent me away to the mental hospital out of fear that I would commit suicide. There were periods where they also sent me to live with other family members, to keep me away from a certain influential boy in my life; at that time....

At age 13, I overdosed on fifty pills in an attempt to take my life. I told my mother the next morning that I had the flu. She went off to work and my siblings to school; I spent that day in massive pain, passing in and out of consciousness, I laid on the hardwood floor of my bedroom; all but my purging stomach immobilized. In those moments of consciousness; I begged that floor for my life as though it were God.....

Back at home for good at age 14; my parents got divorced, dad moved out and shortly after I became pregnant. Unwilling to abort our baby.... the boy who had been with me for two years, left me to raise our child alone..... With the gracious support of my mother, I devoted my teenage years to raising my son Trenton, while chasing after my diploma.....

I attended a high school for young girls who were either pregnant or parenting. It was a tiny school of 40 girls. The staff at that school was such a great support system..... giving me hope for my future, as the rest of the town seemed to turned their noses at me with cruel remarks.....

I later had a baby girl who was born with a heart defect; Tetralogy of Fallot to be exact. I found out the day she was born that she would need to have open heart surgery within a year.... when they discharged her from the hospital to me, (premature at 4lbs 3oz) after two weeks in an incubator (including Christmas day), they told me, "If her lips or fingers turn blue, give us a call." I was absolutely terrified of take her home; afraid I would break her or miss read warning signs concerning her heart; yet, managed just fine once she was home, remained by her side, expressing milk around the clock until her little jaws grew big enough to latch on.

Oregon Health Plan discovered my daughters need for surgery and decided to cut off her medical benefits a month before her surgery.... In a desperate panic, I reapplied (Single young mother of two still attending school) and was denied as unqualified for their services..... My mother came to our aid and paid for a few months of medical insurance for my daughter.

She was 11 months old and just barely 10lbs when she underwent heart surgery.... Seeing her for the first time after her surgery.... Her little hands and face swollen beyond recognition, tubes in her neck, nose and chest..... I nursed her until she was 14 months old, to ensure her a complete recovery.....

About two years later I found myself stuck in a relationship with a man (we'll call him D for now) He managed to break down my self esteem so low that I withdrew from most of my family and friends. I also deserted the final steps toward completing the college classes I was taking at the time (at his request). After a long fought battle with this man over how to live my life, I gave in.... I began living a life of self exploitation..... The shame I carry from this year of my life is far to upsetting to elaborate on at this point in time, but let’s just say that the outcome is something to be proud of; I made the wise decision of leaving him, instead of leaving myself....

When my daughter was 2 years old, she engaged a young gentleman named Rick in conversation while riding TriMet with me and her brother. I did not have to play translator for her as I usually did. He understood every word threw her thick speech impediment. They spoke the whole ride......

Several months later, I ran into this gentlemen on TriMet again..... He had his son with him this time..... Both of us being single parents, we began a friendship consisting of, trips to OMSI, the Zoo and the Children's Museum…..

My new best friend helped me to sever any remaining ties left from that rough year and opened my eyes to the endless possibilities this world has to offer..... Between the shock of becoming my own person and years of suppressing post traumatic stress, I ended up in the mental hospital again......

Much of my therapy consisted of drawing, reading psychology books of various sorts and long late night discussions between Rick and I.... I shared with Rick my struggle of being a cutter, which was the first time in ten years that I found myself able to talk about it.....

After seeing my first serious portrait, Rick insisted I pursue an art career. He gave me the space, time, financial support and encouragement needed to pursue a life in something I thought was only possible in my dreams..... If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be typing this now.....

Though this life story of mine was much abbreviated, it was still ridiculously long and I thank you for taking the time to read it.

JASMINE STAR

www.jasminestar.net (coming soon)