I close my eyes when it gets too sad
I think thoughts that I know are bad
I close my eyes and count to ten
I hope it's over when I open them

Okay, where should I begin? To start, I am 25 years old now. I know, I know... Seems pretty young, right? Not to me. I feel as if I have walked this earth for 1,000 years. When I tell my mother I feel old, she laughs at me. I guess that is her way of saying I have a lot more to "look forward to". I simply cannot wait... :(

So, why am I creating this webpage??? For several reasons, one being the fact that I am going through one of the toughest things I have ever had to experience in my life and hope that this will serve as some sort of release for me... I am hoping that when this page is complete, I will have a little insight on what I should do about my situation.

Let me start "my story" with this... I was born on Wednesday, March 31, 1976 at 6:44 pm. My mother tells me that I was the most beautiful baby ever born and that I had perfect color and was never wrinkled. Yuck. I was named Christen Michelle. I am told that Michelle was picked because my fathers' name is Michael. Lucky me. My mother says that my brother, Chris, doted on my every move when I was a baby. I can see why because, if you don't mind my saying, I was pretty cute.

When I think of my childhood, I think of my dad. He was my biggest hero; I know that much. I followed him everywhere. I remember once he took me for a ride on a motorcycle and my mother threw a fit. I remember I was wearing a white helmet and my dad wasn't wearing one at all. Pretty goofy memory, I know, but I remember sitting behind him with my arms wrapped around him. I never got to ride a motorcycle again after that. I think my mom put her foot down. I also remember him playing "Uno" with me. He would go to the bathroom and I would go through the deck and take all of the "Draw Four" cards. He acted like he didn't know. I remember him buying me orange bubble gum from the store on the corner when he would go to get cigarettes. I hated that gum but never told him. I remember when we got our first and only dog. His name was Snoopy, and yes, he was a beagle. My dad used to let him eat french bread and drink beer. We always thought that was funny. I remember Snoopy would howl at night sometimes and my dad would go out back and yell at him. We also had a bird named Tweety (I know, we weren't very creative kids). Tweety would sometimes get out of his cage and fly around the house. We would hear the persistent "flutter" sound of his wings as he flew away to freedom (into one of our closets) and we'd all say, "Oh, no!" and my dad would chase him down. We had 6 fish, too. I named two of the "Jaws" and "Sharky" and my dad (who was probably afraid I would name the others something even more goofy) named the others. Amos, Andy, Cheech and Chong were there names. I guess those four didn't like their names because they all committed suicide. One by one, they jumped out of the tank as my dad was reading his paper. Not on the same day, obviously, but within the same period of time. That was amazing. But we all laughed about it. Those were the good days.

I also remember the fights he and my mom had. Even as a little kid, I was scared of divorce. I knew it meant the daddy left. I adored my daddy and didn't want him to leave. I remember sometimes when my mom and dad would fight, I would run in the room and beg them to stop saying, "I don't want you to get a divorce". They assured me that they weren't getting a divorce and I felt better. That was right before they got divorced. I mean, it wasn't totally unexpected... My dad would leave a lot anyway. I remember he would pack his things into black garbage bags and disappear. But he always came back home. Then, one day, we left and didn't go back. We moved to Nashville.

I don't remember much about Nashville. After all, I was only eight years old. I do remember my dad coming to visit us and taking us places. He was so much fun to be with. We went to Opryland a lot and had so much fun. We also went to see our dad a lot, back home. Our mom was good about letting us see him whenever we wanted. She wanted us to have a relationship with him because she knew it wasn't our fault they didn't get along.

I remember one weekend we went to visit our dad and there was a lady and a cat there. I didn't know the lady but I knew her cat. I hated cats and really hated this one. That was because the cat had scratched me up at my dad's old apartment when I tried to pet her. I didn't know the cat's owner but that day I met her. Her name was Barbara.

I had never seen my dad with another woman besides my mom so I got really upset and started crying. I remember we were watching a movie and I was bawling on the couch and instead of leaving the room, Barbara put her arms around my dad and looked at me. A "real woman" would never want to hurt a little kid like that. She should have left and gone home but she didn't. She stayed until like 11:00 that night and then went home. I was so confused because I could already tell that this woman was mean from the way she acted that night. I didn't want to like her because I knew she was mean but I was afraid that if I didn't like her, my dad wouldn't love me anymore. So I had to pretend everything was okay. And I did.

I don't remember much about that time except that her and my dad were living together. I knew that was wrong because it goes against the bible but they didn't seem to mind that. I went to camp in May, as planned, and when I got home, my mom told me that my dad and Barbara had gotten married while I was away. It broke my heart because she had been really mean to me and I knew now I was stuck with her. Once, when we were at the country, (my dad's parents had a house in Selmer, TN that we would go to sometimes) I told her I was tired of walking back and forth from my grandparents' house and my dads' cabin and said that I wish someone would carry me. She laughed and said, "It would take a dumptruck to do that". I was already aware of the fact that I was a fat kid and didn't need her to remind me of that. I also remember during that same visit, she rubbed suntan lotion in my eyes. My grandmother came up on her doing that and started screaming. My dad has told me that this didn't happen; that I only remember it that way. Well, I asked my grandmother when she was still in her right mind and she confirmed that it happened exactly the way I remember.

When I was twelve years old, my mother had had enough of my smart mouth and bad attitude and I moved in with my dad and Barbara. I moved into their house on March 14, 1989 and turned thirteen on March 31st. On May 16th, 1989, my dad and Barbara admitted me into a place called "Second Chance", a center for teens with drug addictions. I didn't have a drug addiction... I had never even done any drugs. I couldn't believe she told him that I was on drugs. More than that, I couldn't believe he actually believed her. Any idiot could see what she was trying to do. She wanted to get rid of me. She has always been jealous of me and with good reason... I am better than her and I will always have something she never will... The bond I have with my dad. Now, I don't mean we have a wonderful relationship... We don't, thanks to her. But when she is gone, and I am sure she will be someday, I will still be my father's daughter. She can't change that. So, back to the story, I was in this center for 16 months before they let me out. I went straight to my mothers' house. Not suprisingly, my dad and Barbara had dropped out and stopped coming to see me months before that. It was obvious at that time what was really going on here... The people who owned the center even admitted to my grandmother that they knew I hadn't done drugs and so did my father. My mother already knew I hadn't done drugs... She never lost faith in me.

I didn't have much to do with my dad after that. Oh, he still came around but I never felt the same about him again. He betrayed me in a way a father never should. He had let this bitch come in between us. The man that had once been my hero slowly became my enemy. I hated him for a period of time. Almost ten years. I have only recently forgiven him. Not for him, but for me.

When I was nineteen, he and Barbara adopted a baby. Her name is Angela. She is 6 years old now and is a very sad case. I always wondered how Barbara was going to be as a mother since she was such an awful step-mother and my fears were confirmed. When Angela was a toddler, they had her on her first anti-depressant. She has been on three since, from what I have been told. Pretty sad, huh? So she took this little innocent baby girl and has already screwed her up. If it is true that "what goes around comes around", then Barbara is in for the ride of her life. After everything she has put me through, she deserves what she gets. I relish in everything that happens to her. I have been told by several people that she weighs over 200 lbs now and I think that is funny. She deserves it. I may have forgiven my father but she is one person I will never forgive. I wouldn't spit on her if she was on fire. I would walk away and leave her there to burn... The same way she burned me.

I know this started out as a story about me. But I'm sure you understand that this is me. What I am today is the result of the problems I have had in my life. As I mentioned before, I am going through one of the toughest times of my life so far. I was recently dumped by a man that I have loved more than life itself for the past two years. I know, pretty standard problem, right? Not for me... I have never let anyone into my heart that way. I have always had a fear of being left as I was by my dad. So he is the first guy I have ever let in. He had my heart and soul and he left. Just as my father did. I adored this man as I did my father and I can no longer adore him. So that's why I am creating this page. Not only to try to make you understand me but to make myself understand me. I am often misunderstood by the people in my life and I am hoping that this will shed some light for you...