Oh the good stuff! I haven't archived in a while. Where did I leave off? Being adopted by my sweet Aunt and Uncle (karen & allen). I mean that was kind of gutsy of them. For all they knew I was going to be stealing their gold jewelry and use words like ,"F#$%" on a daily. But, nope, I glided right in, bearing all 15 years of myself, bronzed in terrible pain. Who would dare try break through and find the real Candice? Certainly, a girl from a broken home still had potential, still had life. I had sort of become like a plastic flower, declaring I need no love. Does it look like I need watered? I am plastic. I stay rosy pink no matter what the season. This explains even now, the plastic, frozen, sometimes lifeless smile I impose on others.
At first, the beginning days of Arlington for me felt like a vacation. I was not a stranger in this house. It had been a place of fun always, but now it was my home. The only problem with it, is that Kristyn wasn't there. But, beggers can't be choosers. I just had to be glad that we were at least in Texas together, shortly after my adoption, she moved to Granbury to live w/ our grandma. There would from that day forth always be a 45 min. drive between us, even today. Again, beggers can't be choosy. I'll take it. I took it. My new family was treated me so well. They quickly emptied out their office and put furniture in my room. I remember laying there in my bed, under my new purple sheets, hoping this was it for me. They continued to reassure me I wasn't going anywhere. No one could take me. This was a relief. Was my journey through crappy weather, ok, hell, finally over? It was all I knew though. So, there not being any drama to deal with was foreign. I felt like a square peg trying so hard to penetrate a round hole. It would take time. My parents would often make me leave my bedroom door open, they had never seen a kid want to stay shut up in their room all day! "Hey Candice, we are all watching a show together, please join us"
Geez, what is wrong w/ this family, all up in my business 24/7. It took a ton of time to find out, this is how normal families operate.
"Candice, what do you do in your room for hours on end?"
I write, and listen to cds. Yep, that is it.
I was making peace with the 1st 16 years in there. I was documenting, journaling, writing poetry. I was seeking therapy from the music. I had known so much pain, I was a little uncertain what I was supposed to do with all the new joy.
On my 16th birthday, my aunt (well shes my aunt/mom now) took me, Amy and a few of our friends to Hard Rock Cafe in Dallas to celebrate. It was one of the first of many, awesome memories.
I had started 10th grade at Martin High School and after a few calls from my uncle who was a AP at a neighboring high school, I was the 1st Sophomore on the Newspaper staff. Looking back, I am little shocked that my parents thought so highly of me. All they knew is that I loved to write. I was SCARED TO DEATH at this new school and especially being on the newspaper staff, the only Sophomore. Right away I was given stories to follow, articles to write. Before I knew it I was a regular writing nerd, asking coaches if I could have a minute of their time to talk about the game! I even wrote a very personal column about living with a mother who had Manic Depression. I went on to win Best Column of the year and Best Reporter of the year. So looking back, it was the best call my uncle made on my behalf. I have pics of me and them at that Journalism banquet, holding the awards/trophy plaque and humbly smiling. When I look at them I can still see a world of hurt, but there were traces of healing on my face, so you knew, as an outsider, that I was growing, and that I would probably be just fine.
