Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Literacy Memoir

By , Bluffton, IN
Broken and Lost, but Still Here

My soul wanders a path that those forsaken and forgotten trod upon, lost, but attempting to find out their meaning for existence. The self-identity that I wish to discover lies lost in the midst of an uncertain future that lies ahead of me, tempting me to lose myself in its mind numbing embrace. My past has blurred through the years, melding into a meaningless existence. The only clear memory I have is that of my parents staring with faces full of disbelief as their house burned down. Burned down from a fire I had accidently set. After that, my life took one drastic turn after another.
I was passed from foster family to foster family because they just couldn’t deal with the problems I presented. Frequent outbursts of anger, the inability to trust anybody, and the fact that I just could not get along with peers led to the inevitable. I was placed into therapy, where the diagnosis was that of sexual abuse. To this day, I do not know if these charges are actually true because my conscious will not let me remember anything of my early childhood. As I grew up, it never occurred to me that it was odd that I was with a different family every Christmas. I had already grown used to the fact that a family just wasn’t something that I could put my faith in. Through all of this, I had nobody to trust in besides myself. Finally, the government decided to put me in a youth center until my problems were mostly sorted out. When I reached the point that they deemed to be emotionally normal, they decided to put me back onto the adoption list. I ended up isolated in Bashor for a little over a year. Bashor was just the type of place that the state would dump unwanted children until some foster family eventually stumbled across them. At the time that my current family met me, I was around seven years old. At first, I didn’t trust them, but I was tired of being at a place where you would never fully experience life. As my life unraveled, I ended up getting adopted for the first time marking a significant change in my life. All this would eventually force me to live an isolated lifestyle.
I turned to the library as my sanctuary away from the distrust, hate, and confusion of my life at that time. I decided that books would help me through the difficulties that life had thrown at me. Drowning in a sea of hopelessness, I started my reading career in the mythology section of my sanctuary of peace. I had felt drawn to the legends of demigods that were depicted in these pages of myths. I wondered, if God existed, then why would he have forced me to experience the life that I had been forced to undertake. Hardening my heart, I irrevocably decided that I could never be Christian. I stayed away from the Christian books, eventually finding my way to the comforting lies that fiction books whispered in my ears. They casted an illusion that I could throw myself in, allowing me to become detached from my feelings.
I decided that while most books were alright, I connected mostly with the action packed fantasy thrillers. Like most of my generation, I read the Lord of the Rings trilogy. This trilogy in my opinion was one of the best that I had read; however, I was frustrated. I read all these books, and I still hadn’t found anybody that resembled me in any way. Now in high school, I still haven’t found anything to fully describe my life. I still haven’t found the true identity of who I really am at the heart of my core. Too many years have passed, and I have almost reached the point of giving up on trying to unearth my identity. I have read so many books, attempting to find out anything about people like me, but it has all been in vain. I have come to the conclusion that I am just a unique case among people. Nowhere have I found anybody with my type of personality, alive, dead, or fictional. However, I have become used to the fact that I may never understand myself because I have told myself too many lies, given into hatred and distrust, ruining any chance of finding out my true personality. Books have helped me find pieces, so I have become one of the most avid readers out there, but they haven’t helped me find the whole picture of the puzzle that is me. I still read, but now it is mostly to pass the time or just to be entertained. I usually read the books that catch my eye because I think that if it catches your eye then it must be meant for people like you. I still search these books just in case, but nothing yet. Maybe one day I will find out my identity, but until then I still read for both the pleasure and the hope of self-discovery.





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