HOW ARE YOU at THIS MOMENT?

Copied from Facebook 9/16/2024

ARE YOU OKAY?

An easy question to ask anyone. But do we ever really tell that moment's truth when asked? No, I am not okay. I have never been okay, and I likely never will be "ok." It doesn't make me less of a person, nor someone you should avoid. Sadness runs through my veins, but it doesn't mean I am unstable. We ALL have circumstances and issues, but unlike most people, I talk openly about mine to total strangers. What do I have to lose?

DO SOMETHING!

I only know chaos, struggle and grief from my earliest years as a horribly abused little kiddo. THAT in itself does not make me any less worthy than someone born into royalty or someone whose birth was a happy, pleasantly planned joy. Who gets to decide what makes a life fulfilling? I freely admit, I still grasp at straws, and I do whatever I can to stay above the fray, but I get far more rejection than I get acceptance, much less wins for my efforts. But the point is, I am still trying, and I have not given up yet. Have you? Do you slip into darkness?

I witnessed the horrible deaths of many friends and loved ones, which included abuse, suicide, murder, neglect, torture, disease and chronic illnesses. And not to mention, that awful time, when AIDs was something that caused people to turn their backs on friends and family in disgust. Yeah, I was there. Many of us have experienced trauma. Some of us, far more than others, but none of us would wish that on anyone else. We find our own ways of dealing with trauma.

My heart reaches out to those who are not always strong enough to continue their struggle alone. I don't want anyone to simply give up. Maybe the next day would have been the day "they" got discovered, won the lottery, or stumbled upon a way to change their lives for the better. Today may not be that day, but that doesn't mean tomorrow can't be.

As we get older and older, and we realize that all of the amazing potential we thought we had in our youth never came to be, or did not yield the result we had hoped for. Now we watch the clock counting down as our time passes by - yet we are still working in the most mundane ways to earn a simple living and to make ends meet. How do we break free? What words or actions can we use to initiate peace and self-forgiveness NOW, and more importantly, just what itsy, bitsy, tiny glimpse of unexpected success will make it all seem worth it? This is my attempt to reach YOU while there is time for YOU! What do you want to do? What do you freely admit to yourself that you are good at?

PURSUE IT WITH EVERY FIBER OF YOUR BEING!

I "think" I sing beautifully, but I rarely share my gift. Once I was an amazing artist, even as a wee one, but I quit years ago. As a child, I wanted to be everything, and I was interested in everything. I cannot say that it is the fault of someone else that I did not make it. That is too easy! It is tougher to handle knowing that "I" did not do enough on my own. WE let opportunities slip through our own hands. Maybe, WE stay behind because we didn't want to leave those we love in harm's way. "We" have a million excuses.

Had I been willing ENOUGH, I could have left my mother behind in order to have become successful in my pursuits after high school. Might I have made it? I'll never know. Maybe, my reward was in NOT leaving her, because I got to spend many more years with her, after I moved her in with me. We had a lot of fabulous adventures together that I am ever-grateful for, but she did not, by any means, get to really live the life she deserved. She lived to serve. She was kind, loving, caring, helpful and generous. She was truly beautiful, and she had a very difficult childhood, like many of us. Through most of my life, she was brutally beaten time after time by her husband - NOT my father. I was too, but I never had the potential that she had. Do you?

I clearly recall from as early as five or six years old, after that cruel man laid his claim on my dear mother and all that she had, I longed for any stranger to take me away from them, but then, in the back of my mind, I knew I needed to be there for my mother, so I remained in place, patching wounds - mine and hers. I honestly believed in my mind that it would not always be this way for us and that surely "I" would be discovered for all of my talents and that would get us out of there and into safety and perhaps even prosperity. You'd be astounded at my capabilities as a child. My mother could sing beautifully, and she thought I could too, so I ventured off, in my head, as a child, and saw a grand future for us as celebrities. It didn't happen, obviously. No, things only got much worse for us. So much for wishful thinking and fantasy, eh?

Mom had a horrible, horrible and totally unfair death. She suffered unimaginably and she and I both knew she was going to die in those last days of her struggle. She left us on my birthday, but none of it was her fault. She survived so much brutality, only to have a stranger end her life before she got to live the life she deserved according to ME. Why am I telling you this? Because YOU still have a chance! You may be struggling now, but don't give up! DO SOMETHING! Take all the rejection and just keep going!

Eventually you will get there or just climb one tiny step up at a time. Expect to back step a few times too. As for me, I may have waited too late, but I am still here to push YOU on and make my little daily wishes for your success. I root for you! I couldn't bare it, to think that you'd have a life like mine. I would not wish it on anyone, BUT all is not wasted.....I did become a successful teacher along the way. I did not just play the role; I was excellent, and my kids did not know how lucky they were to have had someone who KNEW where they were coming from and who only wanted the best for them. I knew other teachers who always had some kid that they could not stand. THAT would be the typical kid I would especially reach out to. I felt obligated, but if I could make any difference in someone's life, it would be worth it, whether my efforts were acknowledged or remembered. I don't know how well, if at all, I am remembered by my former students - all long grown by now. But moving on....

Now, as a senior, I dabble in everything and I am willing to try things, within limits. I was taught to hate myself to the core, which explains why I usually use photo filters and seek approval from others more than I should. Every time I see my face in a picture or in the mirror, the vile words of my abuser return, and I hate what I see. But I do not see that in other people! I see YOUR potential and I want you to make it. Change yourself and change the world too. Don't say it is too late or you don't have the ambition! Whatever you may feel you are lacking, it is still out there somewhere whether you find it or not. The thing is, if you do not continue to seek it out - you will not likely find it. Don't be me! I still feel like I have to lie to people and pretend that I am worthy and hopeful, when in reality I must force it with every breath, because I do not believe it myself. But you see, THAT has become my normal and no amount of therapy or words from any professional will change that. Don't think for one second that I haven't spent a lifetime working on it. I have not given up hope but expecting a sudden windfall or to win the lottery is just not realistic. Success isn't just about money. Make your own way!

ARE YOU STILL WITH ME?

What are your talents? What keeps you from pursuing them? Can you make a career out of something that makes you happy? WEALTH does not make life rewarding on its own. I know! I have never known wealth of any kind, but I have known REWARDING times where life felt ideal, or joyful, even if just for a moment. Wait for your moment and be on a constant search for it. These moments add up and - ALL of those special little moments make this tough life worth living! My best moments may have yet to come, but you can find me absolutely all over the place TRYING to make it happen NOW!

DREAMS

My dreams, include YOU! Yep, I have spent ALL of my adult years building up an uncanny amount of what I consider treasures, that I hope someday to share with you in a public venue. Most of you know my dream of having a MUSEUM for my many collections. I do not want to die having been a hoarder of vintage antiquities unknown to everyone until after I pass away - only to find all of my treasured possessions in the hands of a stranger who will never know what I put into the acquisitions. I want there to be surprises at every twist and turn! There will be, this I can assure you. Maybe, at this moment, you are crying, or feel sad, lonely and less-than, but look to tomorrow with hope and paint on your smile for everyone. Give your best!

My path is set, and I am taking the steps afraid, but un-apologetically and with determination. I have set my goals, now it is up to me to find ways of making it happen. I learned early on not to depend on anyone to make my wishes come true. Now, I give my wishes freely - HERE, every day, for as long as you enjoy them! I HOPE to be successful in my endeavors, but my expectations for YOU are higher than for myself. Blessed be my lovelies and LIVE at PEACE with WHO YOU are! NOT the YOU that you think you should be, but the YOU that you were meant to be!

#foryou #magic #adhd #ptsd #author #michaelhuntermcvay #love #peace #happy #lucky  #lgbtqia #loveislove #foryourpage #goodvibes #barbie #actionfigures #creepy #goth #witch#funny #vampire #wish #fullmoon #fighter #Success #fashion #preventsuicide #PalmSprings #SOS #hiddentruths #lgbt #magick #lucky #vintage #gay #childhoodmemories #dressup #suit #cheap #formal #groovy #silver #suicideprevention #professor #party #vintageBarbie #instagood #instagram #viralvideo #tiktok #scottish #Scotland

"I'm Working On Things!"

Michael Hunter McVay

Copied from FaceBook 11/13/2023

So, there is more.....

First, thank you for the kindness shown and shared on my previous post! Like Blanche said, "I've always depended on the kindness of strangers." So, I am also HERE for them - strangers. You might be surprised how many strangers I speak with online who become TRUE friends of mine over the years. The universe has a way of connecting people and I am so grateful for that. You have to be willing and open to opportunities - divine mysteries, perhaps. People will come and go throughout your life and whether the lesson learned is good or bad, I believe their spot was reserved in your life for some purpose. Not everyone is good for you. It may not seem fair while you are going through hell in life but get through it! I never say, "get over it," because that is cruel.

People who tell me that they are "shocked" or baffled that I am still alive after what I went through from five years old until my 55th birthday in 2016, when my world changed, have made me curious. There must be a reason why I survived day after day of brutality at the hands of a monster, for years. What is it? I have felt so helpless at times - absolutely desperate for even one kind word from anyone, anyone at all. It is because of that, and the fact that WE are all in this One-time life together at the same time, that I am compelled to share my stories. Honestly, no, I no longer look like the picture of a healthy, younger version of me that I used to "draw" people in - obviously, you know I am old now, but I am still that same person. I am also the tortured child, the caring decent teacher, the friend, a simple COMPLEX human being.

It's not about how long I have been around, but what I have learned and continue to learn along the way that matters. That's why I have to share it. What good is anything kept all to yourself alone? I don't consider what I'm doing as giving advice, but more like providing guidance based on whatever knowledge or experience I have picked up. As a single individual with a fairly busy life, I don't have time to develop deep relationships with every living being whom I come into contact with, but I still TRY to be there for whomever I can if I am needed. My readers can tell you that I am there for them. Why?

It may not be my job to help people, and I have never had any money to speak of, so I cannot help anyone out financially. What I can do is share what the universe gives to me freely whenever possible. As a retired teacher, I want to see people succeed. I want to succeed too, but maybe my role is to be there for others as much as I am for myself. I wasn't always there for myself. At times, I lived NUMB. Just going about day by day lost in routine. I'm still changing and learning. I never stop searching for answers and they often come to me from who knows where. Sometimes, I just know things. That doesn't mean that I don't make mistakes. But now, unlike during my youth, I DO take deep breaths, and I TRY to think before I speak. I have to consider how my words will affect the person I am speaking to. When I hurt others - I hurt ME!

I'm not looking to tell them things they want to hear. It is first to LISTEN to them. THEY matter. If I matter, they matter. I longed for that. I wanted to matter. But I felt like I didn't. It was the time and place - nothing that I blame any person for. It's just what it was. I know there were people who dearly loved me as much as I loved them. It doesn't HURT anyone to give time or support when they are able. I truly believe that we ARE connected, but I also know you cannot make anyone love you. A simple DNA or ancestry search sets us in an infinitesimal number of directions that intersect at some point. We are connected in more ways than we are aware of.

I told you last time that I read and re-read encyclopedias from front to back as a very young boy - while spending my days in cemeteries, where I basically lived most of the time. I read books on theology too, because I was interested in what others believed in. Religion was fascinating to me. My dear maternal grandparents took me to Baptist church, while my paternal grands took me to Methodist church. My abuser made me go to Catholic church. That in itself did not make me well-rounded in religions, but it made me curious to find out more. I read adult books that should have been of no interests to me. Other kids my age were reading Disney stories and fairy tales. I was weird and I still am - proud to admit! I don't care! Even with all of that in mind, I have my own unique spiritual belief system. I don't share it with many, because I do not want to influence their choices. It is not my place to tell them what to believe in. I translate in my own way. I do not want to be tested on the subject of religion. I just want it known that I am fully aware of what is out there. If I must say, I would suggest that I align more with the Catholic faith than others that I have studied, but I feel no one specific religion is the "best" for me.

I WILL talk one-on-one with individuals about my personal beliefs and in my writing, I make things public. My posts are public. My books are there for all to see. I used to say, "I'm not special in any way." I believed that. I'm not saying I have ascended and have become enlightened. That's not true, but I am on a journey. I hope to continue opening my eyes and my arms. Among the many things I have discovered, I learned that I am happiest when I am helping someone else. THAT gives me value. I have only my mind to work with. I put it to use, as it is. I think it is perfectly fine to psycho-analyze myself. Why not? It's those questions and the internal mental pondering that bring us answers and more things to speculate about.

Why am I unable to stick to one subject in my writing? Because I can't manage to do that in my real life. I am interested in everything. I dabble in everything - expert of none, granted. I obsess over things, that's me. I get stuck in phases. Some phases come and go, and some remain perpetually. Some thoughts are outgrown, and others change with time. But what goes around, comes around....and eventually I get back into old ways, old interests, old ideas, but I face them with whatever new knowledge I have picked up (or forgotten) since then. I am hard to follow - I know that. I have ADHD and certainly complex Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder (c-PTSD) as well, along with vestibular disorders and a whole slew of issues diagnosed and undiscovered yet! (smile).

One might assume from that, that I am broken. I'm not! YOU'RE NOT either. We are what we are! While you are here, YOU do have value if you are willing to admit it to yourself. Nothing should ever be so bad, that you just cannot go on. I say that KNOWING that I have tried to end my life on more than one occasion, but even in doing so, I still had a spark of desire to exist. There was a longing for some hint of significance. As a child I hoped a giant leap from a tall tree would kill me because I did not want to be beaten again when I got home. I jumped! While falling, I knew I would survive. Indeed, it knocked the breath out of me, and it sprained some bones, but nothing broke (that time). So, I went home, and yes, I got a beating as I knew I would. I tried again sometime later.

Do I hate the man who did the bad things to me? I used to think so. I'm not sure what I feel, but I know some of what I feel is pity for him. At times, I can forgive him. I can forgive him for all of the things that he did to me. What I really struggle with is letting go of what he did to my mother. I won't stop asking myself how I will get past that. If I stop looking for answers, I certainly won't find them. It makes me think - and that's a good thing, right? That's why I try to help strangers online. I NEED them and if they NEED me, I have purpose. I don't have to ask, "Why am I here?" if I have that purpose! That's why I am writing this. I want YOU to feel free to express yourself AS your best self! I don't know how easily this may work for you, but it will be a life-long challenge for me. I know what I have to work with, and it functions.....maybe more slowly than others, but it works. I'm sharing this journey with you because I know you are on a journey of your own.

I don't HATE the things that are wrong with me. Everyone has issues, flaws, things they hide. I don't like how I'm aging. No sir, not at all! I know that the endless abuse I suffered shows on my face. That never goes away. It makes me uber-vigilant and constantly on edge. At any given second, I am singing in my head, adding up bills, worrying and typing my new novel all at the same time. I HEAR that is very unusual, but it is my normal. Your normal is unique to you too. Diversity IS the spice of life and I'm a spicy kind of guy! In all seriousness, I believe our differences are part of what connects us. Who wants to be just like everyone else?

My life did not turn out to be what I imagined it would be as a child. I thought I would become a world-class singer/entertainer, but instead, I became a teacher. I passed up opportunities to do really amazing things due to "sudden shyness" or low-self-esteem. The lifetime of that man's voice screaming at me, "You will never be anything! You are worthless! You are disgusting and NO ONE WILL EVER love you!" never really go away. Those constantly repeated phrases echo for life and they interfered with my goals and my achievements. I let them. I don't want to take the blame for that, and I can make a million excuses for my own failures, but I simply wasn't strong enough to overcome what I had internalized and believed to the core. I work hard to deal with the repercussions. That is why I ask YOU to support others who need you. No, you won't have all of the answers, and you may not can change the course of things, but YOU CAN LISTEN. Just be there!

If you are still with me, I am getting to a point, somewhere along with all of this rambling I really am - again, it's how my mind works. I have a million things I want to tell you. I'm in my sixties, still learning, still seeking and trying to make a difference by doing GOOD. It doesn't come naturally to me. I'm not pretending to be Mother Theresa. I catch myself now when bad thoughts enter my head. I re-evaluate things and remember that my viewpoint is entirely based on my solitary mind alone and I am no better than anyone, but I choose now to say that I am not less than anyone either. We ALL have a purpose in spite of our bodies, our minds, our thoughts and our current situation. If you look for a way out, you WILL find it. Dying is easy. It is staying alive that is difficult! Staying alive means dodging obstacles, growing, changing, avoiding, observing things all along the way. Danger is everywhere! We are all one breath away from death. Death is easy, if that is what a person wants, but damn! Damn! The strength it takes to keep going, huh? Don't give up until that time comes for you. I don't think it is up to us to seek it for ourselves, under most circumstances. I don't want to exist in a vegetative state, but we don't really know what realm a person in that situation is on. Too much?

Whenever you look in the mirror and ask yourself, "Who am I?" Is the answer really important at all? Who are you to those who love and need you? Are you there for them? Do you love unconditionally? Are you doing what you want to do with your life? What if you feel that there is no one there for you? Maybe your paths just haven't crossed yet. What is holding YOU back? Like I said, I share my secrets. I have answers for the "who am I" question, but it will be unique for each of us. Taking chances? I am no longer afraid to go there, because I am human. I am flawed and I am aware. No matter what flub I make in front of others, life will go on. I let so much hold me back. Now, with nothing to hide, I have less to fear, right? I think MY way and I do things MY way, but I don't ask for anyone else to be like me! Never! Always be you! The BEST you! The best ME is the one who is willing to stretch, to expand, to seek things beyond my simple mind. I did not want to say, "thinking out of the box," but it applies. TRY things! Try everything you can while you can. Of course, you cannot do everything but do what you are able and willing to do. If you have wanted something - try to get it! Don't deny yourself. This is the ONE life that you will get. If you do get other lives, you probably won't remember this one! LOL!

I think it is OKAY to have regrets. "No regrets" doesn't work for me because that indicates that we do not hold ourselves responsible for our own wrong doings. I openly regret things I have done and said, but I communicate better. I try. I SEE while my eyes work. I see beauty in the most bizarre things. Often, I find the most beauty in things that are actually hideous! There is beauty! It is within us! Set it free! Share it with strangers. Share it with those you love. That thing about no one is promised tomorrow is true. When I "go," it is not my wish to have a funeral. My final plans were made long ago. All that matters is what I do NOW. While I live and breathe. If you want to make an impact - make it! Don't schedule it for a time that never comes. GO SEE things! Listen to people. Be a PART of this world that you were born into FOR a REASON! You have a purpose!

No one ever hated me more than I hated myself. Oh, God, for so long! I thought I deserved my misery and every bad thing that ever happened to me. I can't do that anymore. I am special. I am no longer at the mercy of my abuser. I have my own free will - I just need to use it! I am unique and I accept myself. I don't know what is ahead for me, but I'm living for the moment now. My "career days" are over and I am proud of many things I have done along the way. I'm understanding my reasons for "f'ing up" all along the way too though. I will TRY to let things be. I will change things about myself as I learn, but only you can change you. We are on separate itineraries, but I will accept your help. My mind will always be owned entirely by me alone and under the control of no one else. No one owns you either. You may belong to someone, and they may belong to you too, but you have always been free. There is room in our brains for everything and everyone if we are willing to take it in. I am willing.

I want to keep talking with you like this. "Get" me by reading my thoughts, which are right here for you, and I will be happy to hear your thoughts too. No judgement! I've found myself guilty under my own judgement for a lifetime. I don't invite anyone else to damage me more than I have already done to myself. There is so much more to discover, and we need to keep lifting each other up.

Point of fact: I KNOW there are people who read every word I write, but never comment. Love me or hate me, I will not bite you. What can I do for you? Can you dig it?

#abusesurvivor #lgbtqia #ADHD #ptsd #author #michaelhuntermcvay #barbie #childhoodmemories #vintage #meridianms #palmsprings #loveislove #witch #diversity #gayman #dolls #witchyvibes #victorian #goth #foryou #viral #love #tiktok #instagood #shorts

What's it Like for You?

Michael Hunter McVay

Shared from Facebook Account:

Sometimes I am terrified, and life seems unbearable. As a youngster, I befriended people in the trashy trailer-park where we lived after this man married my mom and took us out of my grandparent's safe, comfortable home. I KNEW that I needed to be very kind and lovable to strangers because they might give me a cookie or something to eat. The people in the trailer park in Meridian, Mississippi were poor too and times for them were bad. I did what I had to do. I feel guilty that as a very young child, I did not think about my mother going without food, until I was a little older and able to see that she was being starved to death.

My mom was too afraid to leave the trailer. She didn't do the things I did to get food. I became an expert at it, but not on purpose nor by choice. Should I have been locked away? Maybe so, but I didn't look at it that way. I didn't think about it being wrong at all. My mom slept a lot then. I know why now. She was escaping reality and didn't think about her grumbling tummy or anything else as long as she could sleep. She was beautiful and that man took advantage of her. He kept her locked away from everyone. When she reached out to her parents after being beaten, yet-again, that man moved us far away from our loved ones.

I was a dirty little boy and at times I did not own a pair of shoes. From afar, my grandparents tried to help us, but only that man could check the mailbox and the cash they sent went into his pockets for beer and cigarettes. When this time of year comes around, my "seasonal" depression returns. I no longer fear it, because I KNOW what it is, and I expect it. I don't embrace it, but I am still changing and learning how to deal with it.

I never said that I was perfect in any way, but I learned how to do absolutely everything by myself and in my own way. I spent countless hours in cemeteries, reading volumes of the encyclopedias that my grandparents gave us. I explored the world through those pages. On my outdoor adventures, I took one volume of the encyclopedia with me at a time, as well as a pillow, my brown and yellow stuffed bear from the last time my mom and I went to the fair, before that man came along. I would read as long as there was light. Many nights, I remained in the cemetery to sleep on any randomly chosen slab.

I felt so safe in the cemetery. No one there would harm me. I imagined from the information on tombstones, what the people may have been like, and I talked with them with my undiagnosed ADHD overly active, imaginative mind. "They" became my friends because I didn't have any living ones. I was fascinated by the oldest, exquisitely ornate graves, but I respected and acknowledged even the simplest, most basic graves. Those long-deceased people were important to me because I did not feel important to anyone alive.

Do not read this and think that I am asking you for anything. I do not want pity nor sympathy. I simply want to be understood and accepted for the 'me' that I became.

Back then, as now, my future held no promise, and I was unable to see an end to the misery of my young existence. I stayed away from home so that I did not have to face that man. I did not want to see or hear him nor the things he would do to my mother.

As bad as it sounds, I found fun things to do and to keep me occupied. I would go home while that man was at work. I would check on my mother, who always pretended that everything was great, while trying to hide her newest bruises from me. I knew. I had been on the receiving end of that man's verbal and physical abuse since five years of age. I would leave home as often as I could even during school nights. I hated sleeping at home, but I had to whenever it was too cold or raining out. But still, I loved the sounds of thunder and lightning and the look of snow-covered surfaces.

I was into bugs and the little creatures that roamed the ground around me. I was always covered from head to toe in bug-bites and poison ivy blisters, but my only sense of home was outside. Glorious OUTSIDE! Where I was free! Where I was unnoticed by anyone. I hid behind tombstones, buildings, cars or whatever obstacles I could blend into when I thought someone was near. It was a game I played. I even derived pleasure from becoming so adept at it. I was a blending-in machine. Who needs a cloak of invisibility!

After becoming a highly accomplished food thief in convenience stores, I also learned that I could "acquire" comic books. Eventually, it progressed to "Tiger Beat" and "Sixteen" magazines, which were designed for young girls. Yep, I was gay! LOL! Why not, on top of everything else that was considered wrong!

I saw the gorgeous celebrities in the magazines, even Rona Barrett's tabloids and I envisioned my life with other people - like them. At times, I did not try to hide, and I hope and prayed that someone - anyone might snatch me up and take me away. They never did, which luckily, perhaps, is why I am still here. I saw myself living in California with a beautiful, successful, loving family. I thought I would become a world-famous singer, because it was what I did best. I belted out my best vocals from tombstones as loudly as I wished. But I gave my all to anything I tried, yes, I did. What did I ever have to lose? Some might say I became fearless before I was ten. The only thing I feared was that man and being at home.

School was dreadful in the early years because I was called names, by the adults. I was spanked by teachers because I was used as an example. They didn't know what ADHD was back then in small-town Mississippi. I was fidgety and I knew the answers to everything, thanks to having repeatedly read and re-read those encyclopedias. I was LIVING them. The words and the images gave me LIFE! LOL! I was unclean much of the time and I wore the same clothes day after day. I was the boy that people wanted to avoid. BUT....once you become a victim, you get used to people abusing you. My second-grade teacher spanked me almost every day, and I could see the guilt in her eyes afterwards, but for some reason, she couldn't help herself and I knew it. I told her that she had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. And she did. They were like the character "Angelique's" eyes on the gothic soap, Dark Shadows. I told her that I knew she did not want to "have to" spank me. But as a response, she simply looked lost.

I didn't do my homework, because that required supplies that I did not have. Workbooks had to be purchased back then, which would require begging, so I didn't have them. A pencil, a notebook....yeah, right! Those were luxuries too that I did not think of "finding" when I was choosing what to eat while out and about "gathering" my dailies in stores. The thing about being dirty and barefooted was that people easily pretended not to see me, because it doesn't fit in with their routine. I took advantage of them looking away to snatch and grab.

I always felt like I knew more than "some" of my teachers. I did not know where this incredible universal knowledge came from. The encyclopedias? Does it matter? I read everything. I immersed myself in written words. I didn't need to hear spoken words! They did not interest me, and I always automatically knew how people felt about me, as if I could see deep into their souls. Was it my imagination? Does it matter?

Growing up was tough and every year was worse than the one before, but I went with the flow. My own flow. I made all of my choices and chose all of my own options whenever I was outside. Being at home was different though. It was terrifying. I did not want to be there at all. Of course, I took baths and showers but because I spent most of my time outdoors playing with bugs and chatting with dead people, I stayed scruffy looking. I didn't have a comb, and my hair was really long. Sometimes strangers thought I was a little girl. That never bothered me. My hair might have been matted, but it was clean - most of the time. Before that man chopped it off, I treasured my long hair. I could pull the ends in front of my face and look at the locks shining in the sun.

Should I be ashamed for who I am? That is entirely up to you to decide, but don't tell me your answer. I don't want to know, and I don't want to be judged by anyone about anything that I did or said before I became an adult. I don't judge you. I feel shame when I point out something that seems off to me or if I gasp when I see something I don't understand. Now, and for many years, I have been a magnet for damaged people, different people, odd, strange people, avant-garde peeps, outliers. Nonetheless, I tried to fit in, in the real world, as best a loner could.

I made a lot of mistakes and bad choices in my youth, as my frontal lobe was not fully developed. I only knew what I knew and rarely had anyone to tell me otherwise until I was able to move back in with my grandparents. That time passed by so quickly and I was actually a happier person within their comforts. I didn't always stay in place though. I worried about my mother.

What am I doing? I had been sharing daily videos of my collections until all but a few people lost interests and stopped watching them. I quit, like a person with ADHD tends to do. My c-PTSD peeks in daily and we shake hands and then try to go our separate ways. So now, I am back to writing. Sometimes, I want nothing more than to be alone and other times I feel desperate for attention.

As a l'il kiddo, I never "hooked" for food or money, but it never came to that. I didn't drink, smoke or do drugs. I didn't need to. My mind was always currently occupied. I could sew, create and build things and READ! Do you want to know more, or did you pretend I am not here? Either way, I remain, and I will likely keep writing. My life is FASCINATING as Hell, which I don't believe in, and even I know that it is astounding! How could I not?

michaelhuntermcvay.com

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