Becoming Myself

As a child I analyzed everything surrounding me and also the imaginary events that constantly took place inside my own head. I'd always find myself daydreaming, I'd stare out my second grade classroom window and wonder where I'd be when I was older. Where would I live? Who would I love?

Like many children, I went through a period of time believing I had special powers. I also believed if I 'trained' myself well enough I could be a mighty morphing power ranger.

My powers that I believed only I was special enough to possess included my ability to see into the future and also my ability to change events in accordance to my own wishes. When I felt I needed to change the outcome of a future event I'd swing really high on my swing-set blaring TLC while I intensely wished for future event to go the way I envisioned them to go. The events I considered important did not include curing illnesses but more along the lines of hitting a home-run in an upcoming softball game.

I also entertained odd situations in my head, those of which included my dog being flattened like a pancake by a truck and of my mother dying in car crash. It wasn't because I wanted my mother and dog to die. I just liked thinking about it for some reason. Perhaps it was my coping mechanism to prepare for the worst case scenario if it ever were to happen.

Thankfully, neither of the fantasized events became a reality. My dog lived a long, happy life and my mother isn't dead. I guess one could say I was lost inside my own head from the very beginning.

I was a bashful and terribly curious child. I enjoyed spending several hours in my sandbox making friends with the beetles and ants that happened to wander around in the sand. Because I was bashful, hugging relatives for me was like hugging some giant stranger that was going to crush me. I avoided hugging as well as the dreaded 'cheek pinching' as much as possible. I was a watcher and observer of my surroundings which later on led to my nickname in high school which was "space-shot".

I was easily distracted with simple household items like spoons and cardboard boxes. I never cared much for actual toys. I did however love Mickey Mouse. In fact, I dressed up as Mickey for Halloween three years in a row. Adults tried to force feed me Minnie mouse whom I found to be an annoying character in the cartoon. Soon enough the stuffed animal of Minnie Mouse given to me by relatives became my dogs new chew toy. Perhaps the adults in my life were experiencing some form of paranoia. Maybe they believed that because I preferred Mickey Mouse over Minnie Mouse that I would experience some kind of horrible gender identity crisis later on in my life.

As a child I was a huge tomboy. My two best friends throughout the majority of my childhood were the boys living in the house next to my own. We played together constantly, exploring the woods in my backyard. Like most children, every now and then we'd throw an occasional punch at one another. The fists were thrown in a loving way of course.

I played football although I was never on a real team because my friend who said she'd sign up with me unfortunately opted for cheerleading instead. I didn't want to be the only girl on the football team so I shamefully signed up for cheerleading instead.

Becoming a cheerleader of course angered me because it went against of my anti-girl behavior. After all, how tough can a cheerleader be? As it turned out, I did enjoy cheerleading because I was able to attend all the football games. One year of cheerleading was enough for me though and I never signed up again.

When puberty hit at the tender age of nine, it hit me with a bang and I was out for the count. I absolutely despised what was happening to me. I thought it was completely unfair that I was the only one experiencing it. I had become a target and a freak that was growing boobs. At the time I was popular and an outgoing child, I had my hair cut like T-Boz from TLC and of all my friends were jealous.

Maturing at an early age caused me to grow insecure quickly. None of my friends were experiencing what I was dealing with so I felt I couldn't relate to them. The new difference I had between my friends would leave me crying after school in my bedroom for hours. The boys who I thought were my buddies began to proclaim I was getting...fat. I grew one foot in a year and unfortunately at that age being fat was often confused with being tall. Often, I wished that a Doctor could give me some sort of medical treatment to stop what was happening to my body.

Gradually, I began to withdraw from my friends. I created a shield to protect myself and I wasn't going to let anyone in unless I was totally sure they couldn't hurt me or try to tell me that I was different from them.

After hearing most of the people I was closest to say I was getting 'bigger' I began to believe I was indeed a huge monster. I knew that monsters are never considered pretty. As a result I became determined to do something to change myself. So what does an eleven year old do?

Stop eating.

I dove face first into an eating disorder and lost the weight, along with my mind I think. That was the end of the Kara everyone knew.

Childhood shapes a persons future as an adult. What I experienced at a young age helps me to form my current personality. Sifting through childhood memories helps me to find answers to problems I experience today. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and wouldn't care if I happened to die that day.

Not because I want to die but because sometimes I see the world as purposeless and flat.

I never know what point I'm trying to prove and maybe the point is having no point at all.

Sometimes I get so goddamn bored with everything because life can become predictable.

People put on a spectacular charade and they pretend to care about the good of the world.

All most people want is to be viewed as some over the top heroic ego-maniac.