Sunday, July 8, 2012

I got my period before all the other girls


I've been thinking about the post titled, has life passed me by a lot since I wrote it. I wrote the post in haste. Instead of stopping to think and evaluate I just wrote. I've been going over and over it in my head. How things have changed since I started journaling and blogging up to now. All day yesterday I looked at my journals, starting when I was 14. From 14 to 17 there are some gaps, but after 17 I've almost every day written down. Some days were summed up in one sentence. Other days took up 10 pages of my journal front and back. After reading at least one week of each year of journals I am sure I have not let life pass me by.

In my very first journal there was a lot written about how much I wanted to use heroin. How I wanted to learn to play the guitar and start a band. How I thought all my friends were so uncool, and how my taste in music was so much better than everyone else’s. Now I know everyone thinks their taste in music is the best. Almost every day thru out my teens I wrote down my weight, and I always thought I was too fat. I look back now and see 132lbs, and I think, oh my god Anna, you were so skinny. Why didn't you live it up and show off your body all the time?

In one of my entries I reminisced about 6th grade, and how I went from 80lbs to 110lbs in the span of a summer vacation. The summer before sixth grade I had never had a pimple and by winter semester of sixth grade I had pimples all over my forehead, and blackheads on my nose. Summer before sixth grade I hardly ever thought about boys to thinking about boys all the time, thinking about sex with boys. My face was still cute in that childish way during summer, and now it was awkward, and it seemed the worst time for my face to no longer be little girl cute, because now I wanted boys to notice. I didn't have to wear deodorant; I didn’t have hair growing in places it never grew before, now I did. All of this came to a head in May 1994 when during 4th period, I got a hallway pass to the bathroom. I had to poop really badly, and it was making my back hurt, and my stomach cramp. When I got to the bathroom, I was relieved because no one else was in there. So I went potty. I finished and wiped. I noticed blood on the toilet tissue. Blood was in the toilet. I thought at first I had pooped blood. I noticed in my white cotton panties was blood. I realized I was having my first period, and I just started sobbing. I didn't go back to class, and when the bell rang I went to my best friend and told her what happened. She still hadn't gotten hers, but she was much more on the ball than I was. We both went to the office, and I called my mom. I was sobbing while I told her, and my bf was trying to soothe me. My mom got off work early and drove the half hour home to pick me up. I wouldn't leave without my bf. The school let her call her mom to ask to go home with me, and her mom said yes. So we left school and went to the store and bought maxi pads, tampons, pamprin, feminine deodorant spray, douche, panty liners. We bought a chocolate cake, and the movie My Girl. I remember this day being one of the worst and best days of my life.

In 7th grade, I was even more awkward, plus I had a really bad haircut, and I tried to dye it blonde but it turned out orange and brassy. I didn't know that hair my dark needed to be bleached. I would also get monster zits. As you know I'm a pimple picker. Often my pimples would get really big, red, swollen, and painful. So I would try to pop them, and all that would happen is clear liquid would ooze out. Me being a glutton for punishment, I'd keep picking at it until it turned into this huge sore on my face. Finally it would pop and puss would shoot onto the mirror. The relief I felt when that pimple would pop in-between my two index fingers and puss...finally puss. After it would pop it would scab over and heal in a couple days. I started wearing makeup, but had no idea what I was doing. I would buy foundation that did not match my skin, and it was either too orange, or too tan. I would have a very noticeable makeup line on my neck. I was clueless when it came to eye makeup. I'd only put eye liner under my eyes. I'd put on pink eye shadow, and mascara. If I had a huge sore on my face, I caked foundation on it. I didn't have a clue about concealer. I had to have everything name brand, so I had these expensive jeans. I would try to copy the looks of the girls in Seventeen magazines. This was the time of grunge. I didn't get that grunge was totally against name brands, and it was all about not trying. Here I was trying my hardest, wearing the flower dresses with a tee shirt underneath, and big black combat boots, (name brand Doc Martins of course) I made my mom pay 100 bucks for a pair of combat boots, that I could have got for 5 bucks at the Army surplus store. I had flannels, and under those flannels I had the newest coolest "No Fear" tee shirts. There were no hip stores in Green Bay much less Oconto Falls, and there was no internet stores where I could buy the clothes I really wanted. I had to find catalogues that had the type of clothes I wanted. The one thing I wanted more than anything was a Nirvana shirt or the shirt with Kurt Cobain on it and had his birthday and death dates on it. I had no idea where to get these shirts.

At this time I was still friends with my best friend since 3rd grade. We had our clique, and my friends were the popular ones. I was the only one with my period in this clique, but they were all going through the change I went through during sixth grade. Of course I felt fat because all my friends still had their childhood bodies with no hips, or belly fat, no boobs, and they were just having their pre-pubescent weight gains which made them still smaller than I was. I was stuck with this pubescent body that weighed now 115lbs. If one day I were to show up to school in anything but a flower dress, or tee shirt and jeans with big black boots, I was made fun of all day. So much so that no matter how much my mom had spent on that outfit, I would never wear it again. The boys were very mean, and noticed every flaw you had. Not a day went by were a boy didn't make fun of me for wearing makeup, and a bra. The girls were nice to your face, but behind your back they were bitches. This one boy would slap my thighs and say, look at them shake, even though they weren't shaking everyone laughed.

Then 8th grade came along. During the summer my friends had gotten their periods. I had already had mine almost two years. So when I was going through all those changes I had nobody to talk to about it who understood. Now all the girls were going through it together and had each other for support. What had seemed so drastic changes in me didn't seem so drastic in my friends. My friends had older sisters who taught them how to wear makeup, and could borrow each other’s cool clothes. By 8th grade I was starting to fit into my body. I realized the grunge look was about not trying. Thrift stores and underground bands. I didn't like my friends any more. They were still into the name brand stuff, and they liked the boys in our grade. I liked the older boys. My friends liked Boyz to Men, and I liked Babes in Toyland, and PJ Harvey. I started smoking, and sneaking out. My hair was growing out, and I died it black #1. I found a Hole tee shirt and a pair of plaid pants at St. Vincent’s DePaul thrift store. I started writing bad poetry, and hanging out with the "dirtballs". I wanted to use heroin, and start a band. This is wear my journaling starts. Just as I cast myself out, and then felt sorry for myself because no one understood me.

As I read my journals during my teenage years I was brought back to that time. I could remember the feelings, even the surroundings, smells, and music. I had blocked out parts of the past, which suddenly I saw in black on white on the pages of my journal. How I was the school whore, because I lost my virginity so young, and because everyone herd about it within minutes of having lost it. Even though I didn't have sex again until I was 16, and had a steady boyfriend. I did cheat on him, and one day I skipped last period with a bunch of boys from my class, and we went to one of their houses and got drunk. I ended up taking one of the boy’s virginity, and I was blackout drunk. I later found out that the other boys were peeking in on me while having sex with the virgin. I guess things got pretty wild because we broke the bed. Which just happened to be the bed of one of the popular girls in her junior year, who was the sister of one of the boys whose house we were at? She was still a virgin. The next day at school she comes up to me crying with all her friends behind, and yells at me for running her life. This made me very UN popular with the girls, but suddenly all the boys wanted to go out with me. Not because they liked me for whom I was, but because they knew they would get laid. I was invited to all the beer parties. Every girl at the party would call me slut, and the boys were trying to get me to go into their cars to have sex.

(For anonymous idiot who keeps saying that my Virginty post and this post have descepinces about when I lost my virginity. Read carefully. I am not saying I lost my virginity at 16. I said I didn't have sex again after loosing my virginity at a very young age again until I was 16. IN THIS POST I DON'T SAY THE EXACT AGE I LOST MY VIRGINTY. FUCKWAD ANONYMOUS COWARD COMMENTER.) Note: I will not publish comments that are rude.

Of course all that passes, when they graduate high school, and now I'm a Junior/Senior. I didn't date boys in high school. I even moved to a different state with a boyfriend for a semester. Then I graduated. I had stopped parting so much because I had found my dad's pain pills. Before those pills I felt like I HAD to go out every night and party. I could not sit at home and just relax. Every weekend I thought I had to be doing something. If nobody was having a party, or no one was at the bar and I had to go home by myself I felt like somehow I was missing out on life. The pain pills took that all away. Plus it made me feel like I had started to reach the goal I wrote about so much when I was younger in my journals. I was becoming a junky.

This post again didn't go in the direction I wanted. I got side tracked by that journal entry I read yesterday that I wrote about puberty. Anyway, I didn't make my point. I'm just going to post this post as is.

2 comments:

Anna Young said...

Someone did not read the post carefully and didn't notice that I mention looseing my virginity at a young age. In this post I didn't say how old I was when I was deflowered. I do mention that I didn't have sex again after being deflowered until I was 16. I did not say I lost my virginty when I was 16.

The person who left this comment obviously did not read the post closely. I blame myself for not taking my time writing it, and making clear I lost my virginiy when I was 13, the summer before 8th grade.

Bev said...

I got it early to and i use to scrub myself and wash my cloths by themself I was ashamed back then.