No one to blame but myself:
With all of the major life changes that had happened, it didn't take long for my body to catch up. I was quickly jolted into puberty, and my childish innocence had finally caught up with the rest of me. Although my circumstances had changed for the better, my heart, emotions, and focus were very much a reflection of the worst. I had come to a place where I was starting to understand and piece together where all I'd been and what all had happened. I didn't know how to process my feelings, and talking about it in therapy sessions only made it worse. From what I understood, it felt a lot like what combat veterans go through upon arriving home. Almost everything was a "trigger" and my raging hormones just added fuel to the already blazing fire within. It didn't take much for me to have a flashback.
As my time with Linda was coming to a close, it was bittersweet. My caseworker informed me that I was headed to live with my aunt and family, and they were to be my new caretakers. I was so used to being moved around, that it wasn't uncommon for me to detach myself from reality. The courts wanted me to live with them for a year, before they would finalize any plans of adoption, to make sure it was a healthy, stable, and good fit. Like any family, we had our typical family arguments, and got along like any "normal" family would, but the longer I stayed, the more I couldn't handle my past creeping in, and getting the best of me.
After 9 months or so, my family had to make the difficult decision to place me back in the custody of the state. I had become no different than my parents, and brother. I took my past pain out on my cousins, beat them up, was full of rage, and hatred, and my actions were what lead me back to that dark place. Thoughts of ending my life flooded my mind once again. It wasn't an easy decision by any means, but it made sense, and that much I understood even if I couldn't bear it.
No one truly loves me. I'm worthless. No one wants me. First my parents, then this? My thoughts spiraled out of control. I was then sent back into the system, and went to stay with the same foster family I first went to when I was younger, in Longmont. They took me back with open arms, but with the understanding that my aunt and I needed each other, even if that meant we couldn't live together. I stayed in their care, had visits whenever we wanted, and it ended up being better in the long run for all of us.
I finished my freshman year of High School, and later that summer, got news that a family was interested.
It was a younger couple with 3 boys, who lived in the high country, a place I'd never been, and they had heard about my story from an adoption agency website. I was also on 9 News' Wednesdays Child, and basically being "promoted" as much as possible. It wasn't long before I was packing my bags, and starting a new adventure once again, in hopes of finally having a family. We lived in a tiny town, in Delta, Colorado and my life was a constant whirlwind of change. I was 15, and growing up fast, and like that of my aunt, required to live with them for a year, before the adoption would be finalized.
I was messed up though. Still going through puberty, and physical change, I just could not accept the fact that someone might truly want me, so I lashed out. I pulled the same crap with them, that I did with my aunt, and was stuck in my ways of pain, and abuse. I was miserable with myself, and I took it out on the world around me. You'd think I'd learned from before, right? Wrong. I was the only one to blame. After 9 months with them, it was Strike 3, and I was sent back to Longmont. Failed adoption #2.
