ASSIGNMENTS:
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Casey Anne
Chicago, Illinois USA
Email Casey Anne
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REPORTS:
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Do you have to start a life story with the beginning? If that's how it goes, I was born in Chicago, Illinois on January 14, 1971 to a school teacher and a self-employed electrician. I was born he youngest and the only girl in my family. My brothers were the coolest things in the entire world to me - especially my oldest brother. For some reason I absolutely worshiped him, even though he was a teenager and could hardly stand the thought of cuddling up to a little girl who was, as everyone knew, spoiled rotten by her adoring father. I adored my father right back - I actually viewed him as a big, funny teddy bear who would do anything with and for me. I wanted to be with him always. I would always find a way to be touching him - not in a twisted way, please don't go there. For example if we were sitting at the table - I would sit right next to him, eating at the same pace, touching his arm with my free hand. He used to wear cologne called Grey Flannel and I loved how it smelled. That smell feels like safety and happiness to me. I looked at my mother as an angle. She stayed home with me during the day when I was little. We would do little project - like make dolls out of a Readers Digest and tie-dye t-shirts. She was and still is a very creative and fun mother. This might sound funny, but she smells the same as when I was little. She used to rub lotion on me, and I loved it because the lotion smelled like her. All of this shit sounds absolutely idyllic, right? Well all of this stuff kinda' was. But other stuff that filled my life was not. My mother was for the most part depressed, even though she sure did hide it well. My father was a recovering drunk who was really only a good father to me...for the most part, my brothers did not have the same father as I did or the same opinion of my father. It hurt me to know this. I was a creative child, I loved to draw, paint and make things. My parents, my aunt, and artists as well and my brother Steve would encourage me to be an artist. My brother Steven, whom I admire and love very deeply is different than anyone I have ever met. A lot of people though he could be kind of a "cold fish" emotionally, self-centered and very driven. I guess they were right sometimes; even though I would get mad and think they were putting him down. I loved him and wanted to be just like him. Most people treated me like a baby except for Steven, even when I was a baby he talked to me like I was a 43 year old man. Steven smelled like cigarettes and black coffee. My brother Jeff was warm to me, but different than anyone else in my family. He liked to hug and kiss me, I remember him smelling like a sweat sock. I could never and still do not feel we have a connection. I will always try to be there for him, as he really has nobody in this world, except my father and I. My brother Ken is and was always fun to be around, loved me very much, has always been a dreamer. He unfortunately is deeply troubled and will always be in and out of trouble. He creates nothing but sadness and victims everywhere he goes. I love him, I understand him...I will always be there for him. I actually have managed to have a relationship with him, regardless of the fact that he is never present in my life. I have no idea how that has happened. I think I am the only thing he loves...beyond himself - he will never hurt me, although he has destroyed everything and everyone around him. He smells like outside to me...always has. These people and their influence on my life has not really made me who I am, but have contributed in a large way to how I see the world. Is this a life story or is this me just typing about my life? I don't like to read life stories; I like to talk about them.
I was a pot-smoking cheerleader in high-school who dated a long-hair, dope dealer. I loved him...actually that was my first true love and the person I lost my virginity to. We were best friends for years until we decided to have sex and fall in love with each other. I actually love this part of my "life story" and I am so grateful that my first love was not some shit and the first time I had sex was not some awful, shameful event.. We would go to as many Grateful Dead shows as we could and twirl all night long. I was an art student in High School. I had no idea who I was then; I struggled to find myself. I hated life and most people. I felt dark and very adult, not enjoying things that other kids did. I took lots of drugs and would starve myself, hoping that answers would come and anger would fade. It did, but it took a VERY long time.
I went to art school after high school. I felt less like a freak at that place. There are always a lot of brooding art students...and I found some like-souls. I loved being in the city. I would always have a crush on the older instructor, who would drink coffee and smoke cigs with us. I fell in love with drawing and painting the human form. I love the human body - big and fat, tall and hairy. I had a photography teacher who I used to love to talk with. He used to tell me to stop smoking pot. My brother Steven died during this time in my life. I was fucking pissed. I had no idea what an important thing death actually is in life. I never really expected him to actually die. Everyone in my life lied to me about his condition too...telling me that he would be ok, meanwhile he was wasting away. You know who NEVER lied to me? Steven. He always told the truth, no matter how grim or mean it could be - that made me love him more and I am just like him in that way. This was a dark time, no question. Steve's death opened a lot of spiritual doors for me. I can't explain or I don't know where to start. I spent a few years really exploring my spirit, the world. I came out of that time stronger and a little nicer; I wanted to be a kinder person.
After that I grew up. I had lots of love and sex, lots of apartments and jobs and have known many people who have inspired me. I have had lots of people who have fucked me over, but I have never allowed anyone of them to take anything from me, except maybe the experiences we shared. I have also had some amazing people who have helped me. They may have helped me to grow spiritually, been there to hold me accountable, have fun with, for me to guide or teach them, even if I only knew them for a short while, they touched my life. This has been the main focus of my "real life"...watching and learning from my trials and from others' trials. Being emotional and freaked out and then finding my center and being free. I have gone through pain and come out on the other side just in the nick of time to help a loved one through their pain. To me, that's what we are here for. I am now married to the love of my life and it has been nothing but trials. My wedding day was one of the best days of my life. It's not the love part that is hard, it's the life part - you know, being an adult and all that stuff. We are adopting a child from Russia - this process is the most important thing I will do in my life. My husband and I came to his process after almost destroying each other through the fertility treatments that I endured for a year and a half. I still battle the shame, depression, sadness, jealousy and self-hate that go along with not being able to conceive. My husband and I are lucky to have each other for support and reassurance. We live with our animal family - 2dogs and a cat - who happen to be some of the best people I know! They shake with excitement at the very site of me - it's priceless! My mother and father live 5 minutes from us. I love this as we are very close friends and love to be with each other. They have been a very loving supports all of my life and helped to remind me that I was still a worthwhile woman during all of my fertility treatments. I love having them near me - I will always be near them. My husband is a teacher who loves to come home from school and water our garden. He is very beautiful. I love that this tough and very manly man gets excited about the green beans that he planted, are actually growing in our yard. He is also a musician and has introduced me to several great friends that we really consider our family. One of the things I happen to be most grateful for is my friends and family - who I love more than I can describe. I love them so much I want to cry thinking about them. I really am blessed in that department.
This is one version of my life story - written 7-14-05. In five minutes I could have a whole new perspective. I love this assignment.
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