I was hanging out with my cousin and a few friends. We had managed to get our hands on some beer. I drank three cans of beer and got really drunk. And really sick. I don't remember all the details but I do remember at some point lying down. There was an older guy there who was about eighteen. He came into the room I was lying in and asked me to have sex with him. I repeatedly told him no way. He gave up eventually. Thank God he was not the type of guy who wouldn't take no for an answer. For me, the moral of the story is that this is why parents don't want their children hanging out with older kids and we preach about the dangers of underage drinking. The consequences can be emotional as well as physical. That boy could have raped me. Thank God he didn't.
Things of course did not get any better. Soon afterwards I did lose my virginity. Yep, I was 14 years old. Sometimes I would stay out all night. I remember the first time it happened. I was drinking with my friends of course. We drank way too much. I got really, really, sick. I didn't go home. I called my mother at work the next day and told her that I had gotten drunk and that's why I didn't come home. She was not angry. I didn't get grounded or punished.
At this point I began to realize that my mother's passive behavior was not normal for a parent. It bothered me a lot. I began sneaking out at night, taking her car after she would fall asleep, drinking, doing drugs. You name it and I was into it. I didn't become promiscuous. I had a boyfriend and through everything I was doing, I had some moral conscience about sleeping around. I was sexually active though. I began sneaking my boyfriend into the house and he would spend the night. I think one of the reasons he would stay was because his father was an alcoholic and would hit him. It was actually pretty easy to do. My bedroom was upstairs and my mom was so disconnected that she didn't care. She did ask me about and I told her the truth. The only concern she had was that I make sure her husband didn't find out. That was it. She wasn't concerned about me getting a disease, or getting pregnant. Or even the effect that it would have on me emotionally. I was not old even to handle this type of relationship. The only reason I think I wanted this boy in my life was because I desperately wanted someone to care about me. I wanted the love that I was not getting from my mother.
Mom was finally able to convince husband number three to move out. At this point, it was pretty much a free for all. All of us were doing whatever we wanted no matter what age we were. I went to the tenth grade for about two months and then decided that school just wasn't my scene. I never went back. There was nothing my mother could do at this point to make me go. I knew she was full of empty threats. I HAD NO fear of her at all. I would stay up all night getting into to trouble and sleep all day. I know now that I acted this way because I wanted my mother's attention. I wanted her to care and I knew she didn't. No matter how bad I was or what I did, NOTHING would get her attention. I came home with hickeys on my neck one time. Nope, nothing, no reaction, other than for her to comment that I shouldn't come home with hickeys on my neck.
What amazes me to this day is that I am not dead. All that sneaking out in the middle of the night and hanging out with the wrong crowd. We even took rides from strangers a couple of times. One time I was out at night by myself and I got into a truck with a man. A policeman saw what was going on and pulled the guy over. I rode home in the back of a police car that night. Whoever that policeman was, he probably saved my life, or at the very least saved me from being raped.
So I continued on this downward path until April of 1991. I would be turning 16 that August. I found out I was pregnant. This sounds crazy, but getting pregnant probably saved my life....