Hello all, here’s the background to my life. Well, for so long I’ve had a hard time saying this; it’s just so prevalent in our world as well as my family. My family had all of it: breast cancer, pancreatic cancer, cervical cancer, skin cancer, colon cancer, prostate cancer—the list goes on. Well, I have cancer. Maybe it’s a shocker to some. But I’ve been sick my whole life. Let me try to start not too far out because that would be a novel. I’m starting my story in middle school and it will go to present life. I would always be at doctor’s appointments as a kid. All I would take as a kid is antibiotics; even as an adult, when I get sick, I have to be put on so many meds. Stayed home from school so much. Loved school but hated the bullying. So much bullying, especially being so young. People making fun of me for being sick. Some days I just didn’t want to go to school because they made me feel so bad. Some would be cool, but some would be so mean. I never understood why I had to prove myself. I did miss a lot of school at times, but I always tried my best to get caught up and bring my grades up. I just remembered I loved being around my parents so much. And because I got bullied so bad, everyone would pick on me from how I looked, to what I wore, to how I acted, and so on. It would bring me so much joy to dye or bleach my hair or cut it, so I always did. I loved to change it up. And I would always get made fun of for it. I remember one time I went platinum blonde and I got bullied so bad that day I called my mom to go make my hair brown again. Then people would pull my hair to see if it’s real. It made me so sad. It is so hard for me to grow my hair, so when it gets pulled and breaks, I cry because it took me so long to get that far. It hurts my feelings so bad being treated like a worthless being. Even when I like to have fun and wear wigs, I get made fun of for wearing a wig. Either they would yank my wig off or just giggle at me. Or get called out for wearing a wig as it doesn’t look natural enough. But I truly feel so confident wearing a wig. I don’t like my natural hair color because I don’t feel like myself and you can see my scalp too much. I don’t like that, so I would go blonde and in my eyes, my hair looked thicker. Sometimes I had some bald spots too. I would get assaulted from physical to mental to verbal to sexual, basically in any way imaginable. I would always get picked on in school, after school, before school. I was always ugly; all the guys used to tell me that. Girls would bully me, but it was always worse and harder from the guys. I always expected it from girls. But guys, for some reason, I never expected the hate until I saw it. They even threw trash at me at times. Or food. They always showed me how much they hated me. And I didn’t want them to look at my body, so I would wear super baggy clothes and got made fun of for that. Then one day I started wearing mascara and suddenly I was beautiful. I used to wake up 3 hours earlier just to fake my face with makeup to feel pretty. Because I no longer felt pretty without it. Then people would try to wipe my face off as more bullying. Then I would be over-sexualized. By everyone, it seemed. I would always just want a friend, but it always seemed too much to ask for or too good to be true after everyone had been so bad to me. Most days I would be late to school. But that was always when I felt my worst. In the morning. Nauseous, sick, throwing up, even feeling faint. My parents would always make me drink protein shakes. They would always say, "Chris, please drink a shake; you’re starting to look too skinny again." And I was always too skinny or too fat to people. Even my grandma Lupe used to call me fat and big and pick on me and my family. My dad would pack my lunch bag. He always gave me all the goodies because he knew I would eat them. It didn’t matter as long as I ate something. But most days I was too nice and would give out my snacks and barely eat. He loved my cooking. I just don’t like bland food; it reminds me of hospital food, so I like to add as much flavor as possible. My dad would always get sad when I got skinny because that didn’t mean good. When I’m skinny, I’m at my sickest. My bed was always my sacred space. I always just wanted to be toasty in bed. I just felt happy and peaceful. And my parents and brother and pets would make me feel better. I was bullied way too much. Especially as a kid, even still as an adult. It seems like it never goes away. Someone that was always nice, kind, and had a good heart towards people. I had to go to the bathroom a lot. Still to this day I do, but people get mad or annoyed about my frequency to the bathroom or make me wait, and if I did, I would have an accident. And it would be the most embarrassing thing ever. When I gotta go, I gotta go! Most times when I have to use the bathroom, it’s always an emergency. I remember one of the most embarrassing times: I was at school enjoying a snack I’ve never had before, and I ended up throwing up. I felt sick after eating it, but I asked to use the bathroom and I couldn’t go or would be threatened by teachers if I wanted to go home for feeling sick. So I ended up throwing up all over my classroom, and it was the most embarrassing thing. People still make fun of me to this day for it. I just remember being pointed at, laughed at, made fun of, even pictures being taken. A lot of people take pictures or videos of me at my lowest and most vulnerable. And sometimes when I see certain people, they bring it up like it’s a joke, but little do they know how bad it hurts. And sometimes I’m in the bathroom for 20/30 minutes. I’ve always had bladder/colon control issues, basically the same as my mom’s, always running to go to the bathroom, which is colon/bladder cancer. PE was always embarrassing; that was probably the hardest subject of the day, having to play sports with people that don’t like me. I was always picked last. School dances were even more drama. Then blackmailing started happening about me and even family hating on me for talking to certain races. I never cared about race, just if they’re a kind person. I did always love my arts classes; those made me happy. It was always so much homework, even when I wasn’t sick. I would work on it for hours and hours. Most nights my mom would come in and say, "That’s it, go to sleep." I just wanted to finish on time. It seemed like my whole life was school and homework, nothing else. No time for sleep or social time or being a kid. So I would then get sick because when I stress, I get sick very easily because I have a weakened immune system. Then in high school, I made a YouTube makeup channel that I was so excited for and took so much time to do. Just to come to school and all my “friends” were hating on it and making fun of it. Especially in the comments. Also, comments in general, people calling me dumb, a dumb blonde, or making fun of my forgetfulness. I would also be made fun of in different languages. I am Mexican, so I understand Spanish. And when you hear certain words so much, you look them up and realize what they really mean. Always called white girl. I’m never considered Mexican. I am Mexican Romanian. I love my culture and heritage. My family was the first immigrants to settle in Carpinteria. When you read the book of Carpinteria, that’s my family. On another note, here’s back to school again. I would have to look at my class schedule all throughout the year and ask which way the classroom was. Always so confused about what period it was. I could never remember my locker, from where it was to what the combination was. So I would carry all my books, which made me have scoliosis. My parents would always pick me up after school or drop in to bring me snacks to put a smile on my face. My dad was always my best friend. Since I was a little girl, that’s all I remember is wanting to be with him at all times, as well as my doggie Little Girl. I loved my mom so much, but my dad just had more time and understood me more. He would always spoil me; it was the best! Bringing me food/snacks to just hanging out together. Always lifted my spirits. Anytime I was with my parents or dog or pets, they would lift my spirits. Although sometimes we may fight, but who doesn’t? Life isn’t perfect. I would call them all day long at school. I just wanted to hear their voice and talk to them. Then I graduated with almost all A’s, if not all A’s. I can’t remember. But damn close. Then came beauty school and more sickness and bullying. Not as bad, but similar, some days worse. But these were grown women and men. On top of that, I was juggling a full-time nanny job that I loved. I just was so tired. Once I finished cosmetology school, I wanted to be a nail tech, so I quit my job to pursue my dreams. Started very small, but even then, bullying was an issue. Then I started feeling like a therapist for so many. Which was great because I felt like I was helping them and making them feel better about themselves. I would just work myself too much. And make myself sick. Some days 12-hour days. And I even wanted to work a full week instead of days off. I traveled when I could so I could live a little! Then my dad passed suddenly. My world was shattered. I felt like I died that day as well. The hardest time of my life. I got so sick after he died I thought I was about to be next. Life is just so empty without your best friend. I mean, he was my other half. I either had to sleep in the living room with my brother or in my mom’s room. I hated being alone from that point forward. Family just started treating me way differently. I walked into the memorial, late of course, because I was dreading going. And it seemed like no one knew me. I would just walk around and no one cared. Then my dog passed away that summer. She was my other best friend since I was 12. Then that December, my mom got diagnosed with her cancer, and that broke me again. I just couldn’t catch a break. I knew I would have to be her full-time caregiver. So I did everything for her, from taking her to appointments to bathing her, you name it, I did it. Trying not to show how bad it was eating me up. I just wanted to make her feel good. Then my grandma Lupe passed. And my family came down, but my mom knew that would be the last time she saw them, and I couldn’t handle it. I was so sad. I knew her time was coming soon, and I couldn’t believe it. I was just so sad. Both of my parents gone in the span of a little over a year. Then we got kicked out of our home. 3 days after my mom passed away. Just when I thought, "Okay, maybe I can rest for a bit." I made sure to ask my landlord if we would be okay when the time does come, so if I should prepare to move while she’s still here or just be fine, and she said, "Don’t worry." Well, that was a lie. I was killing myself trying to get all our stuff out of that house. I mean, I was at my house for 19 years. I was just reliving everything every day, which was torture. Looking at all the memories. Memories I had to sell or get rid of because storage is too expensive. I tried my very best and got everything done. Now I am on my journey of healing and relaxation mode. I moved to Texas, and I just want some time to rest and maybe do nothing for a bit. All I wish for is love and happiness. And some peace of mind. I’m thinking of trying to pursue my dreams in maybe acting or modeling. I’m not sure. I do love nails, but I wanna live life now. And I need help. Sometimes I can’t remember things out of a trauma response, or it could be my cancer has eaten that memory. So please watch your words; it hurts my feelings when you’re mean to me or talk about me not being able to remember something. Sometimes I just have to blurt my thoughts or words out because I know I will forget what I have to say. I will write notes to try to remember things. I even talk to myself to keep my brain thinking and so I don’t forget things I’m doing. Just know I can hear your thoughts, and I know what you have said about me or what you are thinking about me. And if I cut you off or no longer talk to you, it’s because you hurt me deeply. I always remember the hurt. You just never know what someone is going through. Some are going through more than others, but we put on a happy face and cry in the dark. Sorry if this story is all over the place. I was never a good writer in school and would always get the lowest score, but this is just my brain, very scattered. I may have my struggles, but I have a very high IQ level for having all my struggles. Even without studying or being at school for so long, my IQ is currently at 121. I’m not as dumb as most think. Anyways, thanks to those that care. Appreciate the support and help along the way.