Post by PandieCandii on Nov 21, 2005 23:20:19 GMT -5
I couldn't quite decide where to write this evening. Suppose my mind is abit more jumbled then most times.
Lately everyone's been getting an earful of what people seem think I'm all about. So I got to thinking... If everyone else can tell my story in their point of view, perhaps it's time I do the same.
Some of the information included you will know about. Some of it you will not. And some you just may not choose to believe. I can't convince you to. But know that everything I write this evening is the truth. I dont intend to try and make everyone believe it. And I'm not saying it's going to be an interesting write, because as far as Im concerned, my life is anything but interesting. But it's something that I feel I have to do.
My name, as everyone probably already figured out, is Candii-Lynn Josephine Mackenzie C(last name withheld). I am twenty one years old, born March 29th. I was born with a hearing disability, as was my older sister Melissa.
I'm not sure what age I was, but I do believe it was back in grade school, that I was given two hearing aids to assist in my 'disability', which through all of elementary school, with the exception of grade eight, I refused to believe I had.
I was the short person in the class, so naturally picked on the most. I wasn't the 'popular' girl, but I was the 'most popular girl' of the 'not so popular' group.
In grade eight I met another girl that was in my class that also had a hearing disability. She was worse off then I, however, and fully accepting the fact that she wasn't exactly like everyone else. She had a hearing aid that pinned up in her hair, I remember, just above her ear. She even had this interperator(sp) that would teach her sign language during french class, and would mouth everything the teacher said so the girl would know what was being taught.
I had become good friends with her, mostly out of curiousity. What I considered an embarrassment, she considered a gift. Somehow, she convinced me to accept that I was hearing impared, and we went through the process of getting me a new sort of system to help me with school work. I was given what I called a one way radio. I would put these normal headphones over my ears, and the teacher woudl have a small mic clipped to their collar. This way, whatever she said would go directly to my ears.
At first, it was horrible. I was terrible with public speaking, and abit too emotional, so when the day came where some of the students complained because I got to listen to 'music' all day, while they weren't allowed to, the teacher decided she would put me on the spot of having to make a presitation explaining the 'headphones' and how they worked.
It actually wen't better then I thought. The kids suddenly thought it was neat, and every time one of the students got in trouble and dragged to the hallway to get 'yelled at' by the teacher, the students would all swarm my desk cause our teacher always forgot to shut the mic off.
But then Grade eight graduation rolled around, and I discovered that the two hearing impared students in grade eight weren't classified as date worthy, and we were the only two left out of being asked to graduation. The other girl didn't have a problem with it. She still seemed to think that boys had cooties. Me, on the other hand, got the short end of the stick.
Since I was more 'emotional' the students in my class decided that now was the time to tease me for my disability. I was constantly made fun of, until the point came where I refused to wear the headphones anymore. I refused to admit that I had a disability.
And I stuck with that stubborness for my entire highschool durration(sp). All through highschool, the only people whom were aware that I was hearing impared was my family, my teachers and my first love.
During highschool, I wasn't the most popular, but I was well known. I was more... Friends with everyone. The quite timid one whom had a smile for everyone. I ended up dating the local highschools 'cool guy'. We dated all through highschool, for three years.
It was while I was dating him that we first discovered something was wrong with me. I would get these awful headaches that caused me to get really dizzy to the point of passing out, never for very long. My parents took me to a specialist where I remember lyin on a stretcher and going through the scanning tub, petrified. Course, who wouldn't be after the doctor tells you that there's always a risk of falling into a coma in there.. .Who tells a 17 year old girl that!
They never did find anything. And eventually my headaches reduced to a couple a month. We moved away, and I reattended the highschool in my new town to get the marks up that I missed too many days from being sick. This is where I started seeing someone else. I think it was right off the bat that I told him about my hearing disability. Somewhere between my first highschool and my second, I decided that I couldn't date anyone without them knowing that I had a hearing disability. Of course, I still refused to wear the hearing aids I was given.
But the new boyfriend of mine didn't seem to care, and I was blown away. He actually asked me once to borrow one of my hearing aids. Something about wanting to break into the lockers at school. Course, it couldn't be done, but he had his hopes up, so of course I let him take of them. Speaking of which, he still mantains that it works...
*chuckles quietly*
Anyway, we kinda figured that maybe my headaches were caused by stress, so once I moved it would all calm down. It did, to be honest. I still got my headaches, just not as frequently and not as often. And I still refused to wear my hearing aids. But it didn't matter, because the guy I was seeing actually decided he wanted to learn sign language, and he did pretty good. Better then me, I think.
But then my stress levels went up again, and hello headaches.
(skips ahead to save writing)
In there, there's the miscarriage, the breakup, the rape. All of it. Somehow, they don't seem so important anymore.
Now, I still don't wear my hearing aids, though I have them both tucked in a box somewhere among the things to move. I still get my headaches, but now I have a medication to prevent them from coming as often. I have depression, as my doctor so loves to point out, though I refuse to take the medication he perscribed. Doesn't make me feel any better, and actually makes my stomache upset. I have sleeping pills, which I don't put to use anymore.
I was doing well, emotionally. I met alot of new people that I enjoyed talking with. I always kept myself busy. You know, the usual things you do to keep yourself from thinking much.
*chuckles*
So far you've probably gathered that I'm stubborn. Refusing to take meds, or therapy, or wear hearing aids.. The whole works. So it shouldn't come as a surprise to hear that I refused to have surgery when we discovered that there was a lump in my left breast. Yes, it is still there.
And since, everyone seems to enjoy airing my dirty laundry in public, I also have one under my left arm now. And one... Elsewhere. Good news, only the one under my arm hurts!
It was said that I complain that I'm weak alot. The truth is, I'm only as weak as I allow myself to be. Everyone knows that lumps don't make you wear. Chemo makes you weak. And as I refuse to even consider doing those, that's not the cause of my 'weakness' as it was stated. My doctor says that sometimes depression can make you feel weak. I think it's just because I expect too much of myself.
Am I sick? *shrugs* That's what it seems like, no? But I don't see how one can be sick if they refuse to believe it. You are whatever you say you are. And I say Im just fine. I merely tire easly. But then again, who doesn't grow exaused sometimes?
I'm a private person that has a hard time sharing... Mostly when something turns to me, I try to change the subject. But tonight, I figure if everyone else can air my dirty laudry in public, maybe I should do the same.
When I'm upset, I don't go mentioning to anyone except three people. My mother, and my two best friends Tami and Doogie. If anyone knows all about me, it would only be those two.
Lately alot of people have had the opportunity to read much about me from other peoples perspective. I can't stop people from badmouthing me, and I can't expect them not to share their own opinions. So I don't try.
But I am trying to get a point across. All my life I have kept to myself. I've been embarrassed to admit my shortcomings, and ashamed to be different. Tonight, I'm still embarrassed and still ashamed, but tonight I'm also lost.
I don't know what the goal is when someone bad mouths me. I don't care. I don't have to feel what their going through. But the fact is, I have to deal with it.
Tonight, after being so certain that I was doing okay, I cried. Tonight I seeked help from someone whom doesn't judge me. Tonight, I loose. I loose the battle of always being positive. I loose the confidence that everything's going to be okay. Tonight.... I loose faith.
Maybe there isn't good in everyone. Maybe there isn't good in me. Right now, I'm not certain of anything, but the strong sensation of once again taking the easy way out.
I don't ask for sympathy. I hate pity. And I have constantly told people of this. Somehow this has turned into some rolereversal therapy of me begging for sympathy instead of refuse to have it.
The fact is, no matter how tough I pretend to be. No matter how often I smile while people put me down. I feel every stab of their words. Every rude remark, every hateful name, every painful accusation, leaves a mark in me. I am only human. There's only so much that everyone can take... This evening, I think I've taken too much.
You can bad mouth me. You can hate me, critisize(sp) me, or run my name into the mud. You can do and say anything you want about me, because really it's only going to last as long as your rant. But realize something... The hate that you spill out in the spur of the moment, lasts so much longer in me.
Tonight, you've managed to make me feel below scum. Tonight I hurt. Just liek every one of you have done when someone says something hateful about you.
And I don't know where to go from here. I don't know who to look to, or who to call. I don't even know how to get through it. Or if I will. I had hoped that writing would help me feel better, as it so often has done before... But tonight, all I feel is worse.
So congradulations, to everyone whom has so willingly shared their hate for me. Congrands to everyone whom in that moment of rage, has hurt me more then I've ever been hurt before. Congrads.. You've accomplished your goal..
I just really hope it was worth it all in the end.
Lately everyone's been getting an earful of what people seem think I'm all about. So I got to thinking... If everyone else can tell my story in their point of view, perhaps it's time I do the same.
Some of the information included you will know about. Some of it you will not. And some you just may not choose to believe. I can't convince you to. But know that everything I write this evening is the truth. I dont intend to try and make everyone believe it. And I'm not saying it's going to be an interesting write, because as far as Im concerned, my life is anything but interesting. But it's something that I feel I have to do.
My name, as everyone probably already figured out, is Candii-Lynn Josephine Mackenzie C(last name withheld). I am twenty one years old, born March 29th. I was born with a hearing disability, as was my older sister Melissa.
I'm not sure what age I was, but I do believe it was back in grade school, that I was given two hearing aids to assist in my 'disability', which through all of elementary school, with the exception of grade eight, I refused to believe I had.
I was the short person in the class, so naturally picked on the most. I wasn't the 'popular' girl, but I was the 'most popular girl' of the 'not so popular' group.
In grade eight I met another girl that was in my class that also had a hearing disability. She was worse off then I, however, and fully accepting the fact that she wasn't exactly like everyone else. She had a hearing aid that pinned up in her hair, I remember, just above her ear. She even had this interperator(sp) that would teach her sign language during french class, and would mouth everything the teacher said so the girl would know what was being taught.
I had become good friends with her, mostly out of curiousity. What I considered an embarrassment, she considered a gift. Somehow, she convinced me to accept that I was hearing impared, and we went through the process of getting me a new sort of system to help me with school work. I was given what I called a one way radio. I would put these normal headphones over my ears, and the teacher woudl have a small mic clipped to their collar. This way, whatever she said would go directly to my ears.
At first, it was horrible. I was terrible with public speaking, and abit too emotional, so when the day came where some of the students complained because I got to listen to 'music' all day, while they weren't allowed to, the teacher decided she would put me on the spot of having to make a presitation explaining the 'headphones' and how they worked.
It actually wen't better then I thought. The kids suddenly thought it was neat, and every time one of the students got in trouble and dragged to the hallway to get 'yelled at' by the teacher, the students would all swarm my desk cause our teacher always forgot to shut the mic off.
But then Grade eight graduation rolled around, and I discovered that the two hearing impared students in grade eight weren't classified as date worthy, and we were the only two left out of being asked to graduation. The other girl didn't have a problem with it. She still seemed to think that boys had cooties. Me, on the other hand, got the short end of the stick.
Since I was more 'emotional' the students in my class decided that now was the time to tease me for my disability. I was constantly made fun of, until the point came where I refused to wear the headphones anymore. I refused to admit that I had a disability.
And I stuck with that stubborness for my entire highschool durration(sp). All through highschool, the only people whom were aware that I was hearing impared was my family, my teachers and my first love.
During highschool, I wasn't the most popular, but I was well known. I was more... Friends with everyone. The quite timid one whom had a smile for everyone. I ended up dating the local highschools 'cool guy'. We dated all through highschool, for three years.
It was while I was dating him that we first discovered something was wrong with me. I would get these awful headaches that caused me to get really dizzy to the point of passing out, never for very long. My parents took me to a specialist where I remember lyin on a stretcher and going through the scanning tub, petrified. Course, who wouldn't be after the doctor tells you that there's always a risk of falling into a coma in there.. .Who tells a 17 year old girl that!
They never did find anything. And eventually my headaches reduced to a couple a month. We moved away, and I reattended the highschool in my new town to get the marks up that I missed too many days from being sick. This is where I started seeing someone else. I think it was right off the bat that I told him about my hearing disability. Somewhere between my first highschool and my second, I decided that I couldn't date anyone without them knowing that I had a hearing disability. Of course, I still refused to wear the hearing aids I was given.
But the new boyfriend of mine didn't seem to care, and I was blown away. He actually asked me once to borrow one of my hearing aids. Something about wanting to break into the lockers at school. Course, it couldn't be done, but he had his hopes up, so of course I let him take of them. Speaking of which, he still mantains that it works...
*chuckles quietly*
Anyway, we kinda figured that maybe my headaches were caused by stress, so once I moved it would all calm down. It did, to be honest. I still got my headaches, just not as frequently and not as often. And I still refused to wear my hearing aids. But it didn't matter, because the guy I was seeing actually decided he wanted to learn sign language, and he did pretty good. Better then me, I think.
But then my stress levels went up again, and hello headaches.
(skips ahead to save writing)
In there, there's the miscarriage, the breakup, the rape. All of it. Somehow, they don't seem so important anymore.
Now, I still don't wear my hearing aids, though I have them both tucked in a box somewhere among the things to move. I still get my headaches, but now I have a medication to prevent them from coming as often. I have depression, as my doctor so loves to point out, though I refuse to take the medication he perscribed. Doesn't make me feel any better, and actually makes my stomache upset. I have sleeping pills, which I don't put to use anymore.
I was doing well, emotionally. I met alot of new people that I enjoyed talking with. I always kept myself busy. You know, the usual things you do to keep yourself from thinking much.
*chuckles*
So far you've probably gathered that I'm stubborn. Refusing to take meds, or therapy, or wear hearing aids.. The whole works. So it shouldn't come as a surprise to hear that I refused to have surgery when we discovered that there was a lump in my left breast. Yes, it is still there.
And since, everyone seems to enjoy airing my dirty laundry in public, I also have one under my left arm now. And one... Elsewhere. Good news, only the one under my arm hurts!
It was said that I complain that I'm weak alot. The truth is, I'm only as weak as I allow myself to be. Everyone knows that lumps don't make you wear. Chemo makes you weak. And as I refuse to even consider doing those, that's not the cause of my 'weakness' as it was stated. My doctor says that sometimes depression can make you feel weak. I think it's just because I expect too much of myself.
Am I sick? *shrugs* That's what it seems like, no? But I don't see how one can be sick if they refuse to believe it. You are whatever you say you are. And I say Im just fine. I merely tire easly. But then again, who doesn't grow exaused sometimes?
I'm a private person that has a hard time sharing... Mostly when something turns to me, I try to change the subject. But tonight, I figure if everyone else can air my dirty laudry in public, maybe I should do the same.
When I'm upset, I don't go mentioning to anyone except three people. My mother, and my two best friends Tami and Doogie. If anyone knows all about me, it would only be those two.
Lately alot of people have had the opportunity to read much about me from other peoples perspective. I can't stop people from badmouthing me, and I can't expect them not to share their own opinions. So I don't try.
But I am trying to get a point across. All my life I have kept to myself. I've been embarrassed to admit my shortcomings, and ashamed to be different. Tonight, I'm still embarrassed and still ashamed, but tonight I'm also lost.
I don't know what the goal is when someone bad mouths me. I don't care. I don't have to feel what their going through. But the fact is, I have to deal with it.
Tonight, after being so certain that I was doing okay, I cried. Tonight I seeked help from someone whom doesn't judge me. Tonight, I loose. I loose the battle of always being positive. I loose the confidence that everything's going to be okay. Tonight.... I loose faith.
Maybe there isn't good in everyone. Maybe there isn't good in me. Right now, I'm not certain of anything, but the strong sensation of once again taking the easy way out.
I don't ask for sympathy. I hate pity. And I have constantly told people of this. Somehow this has turned into some rolereversal therapy of me begging for sympathy instead of refuse to have it.
The fact is, no matter how tough I pretend to be. No matter how often I smile while people put me down. I feel every stab of their words. Every rude remark, every hateful name, every painful accusation, leaves a mark in me. I am only human. There's only so much that everyone can take... This evening, I think I've taken too much.
You can bad mouth me. You can hate me, critisize(sp) me, or run my name into the mud. You can do and say anything you want about me, because really it's only going to last as long as your rant. But realize something... The hate that you spill out in the spur of the moment, lasts so much longer in me.
Tonight, you've managed to make me feel below scum. Tonight I hurt. Just liek every one of you have done when someone says something hateful about you.
And I don't know where to go from here. I don't know who to look to, or who to call. I don't even know how to get through it. Or if I will. I had hoped that writing would help me feel better, as it so often has done before... But tonight, all I feel is worse.
So congradulations, to everyone whom has so willingly shared their hate for me. Congrands to everyone whom in that moment of rage, has hurt me more then I've ever been hurt before. Congrads.. You've accomplished your goal..
I just really hope it was worth it all in the end.
