This is Melizza. Melizza Sandusky. I am 18, and I want to write about one of the hardest times of my life (and, believe me, I have had several).
At the age of 13, I was a normal teenaged girl, on the junior high cheerleading squad, when, one morning, I awoke with the world's worst headache. When I went to get out of bed, I got very dizzy, and I collapsed to the floor. When I went to get up, I found out that I couldn't get back up. When I went to cry out to my foster family, I also found out that I couldn't speak.
That was when I blacked out. When I awoke later, I found myself in the hospital, tubes running to and from my body. I couldn't move very well, and when I went to talk, I found out that I could not.
I had suffered a stroke.
A stroke. Only 13 years old, and I had suffered a stroke. It didn't seem possible. Young kids such as myself weren't supposed to have things like strokes. Only old people had strokes, I kept thinking. It didn't make any sense to me whatsoever; yet, that was EXACTLY what had happened to me. I had suffered a devastating stroke.
A year later, I was still in the foster care system. My foster parents had both took sick and then died; and I still had no idea where my real parents were, or whether they even knew I was alive. (I had been put up for adoption when I was a very young child; I was from Africa, and my parents had abandoned me. I was flown to America shortly thereafter, but nobody wanted to adopt me because I was racially mixed--African-Black and Spanish.) Now I had to deal with the fact that I was now physically handicapped: I could walk, but I used Canadian crutches--or a wheelchair, for long treks--; and my one side--my left--was still pretty well messed up at that time. I also slurred when I spoke, and people often had a hard time trying to understand me.
Oh, I still went to school, but I was always singled out--"the crippled kid", I was called by tormentors--; they made fun of my speech, my walking on crutches or using a wheelchair, the fact that I was in foster care and didn't have a family. I was an emotional wreck. Their incessent teasing did nothing to bolster my already fragile sense of self-esteem.
It got to be so bad I started thinking of committing suicide; it seemed like the only way out at the time.
But then, by the time I was 15 1/2, something totally unexpected and totally wonderful happened in my life: I was ADOPTED!!!! I was adopted by a family in Tennessee, a family that already had a bunch of adopted kids; yet, they heard about me, and they decided that they wanted me as part of their family!! So, as a result, I left New York State (where I had been living since I had come from Africa), and I went to Tennessee, where I then started my brand new life with my brand new family.
I have been with my family ever since. I am no longer known as Melizza Marie Martinez-Ochumbeye; I am now known as Melizza Marie Elizabeth Sandusky.
I grew to love my new family very, very much, but we still had our problems. I was still wrestling with the demons of depression and suicide; and several times I tried to take my life: I tried to overdose on pills, I cut myself, I even tried to hang myself. I was still an emotional wreck; and school was still hard to deal with. I was still "that fat, crippled bitch" to a lot of the kids, and I was nothing but a "retard" in their eyes. My ambling gait and my poor speech did NOT help matters any; that just made me the butt of their cruel taunts, and there were many days where I would come home from school in tears.
But my parents were very supportive of me, and they tried their best to help me. They took me to the best doctors (what THEY could afford, anyway), and they visited me whenever I ended up being admitted to the psychiatric ward of the hospital. They never left me, and they were going to see to it that I recovered from my mental problems.
Which I now have. But I am still on medication to help my depressive state; and I am to remain on it until my counselor, Mrs. W., says otherwise. I am also seeing a therapist 3 times a week, and I will continue to do so. She has really helped me tremendously, and because of her, I am now well on my way to becoming a productive citizen. I am also living on my own (but not TOO far from my family; I still go to mom and dad's house to do laundry several times a week, plus to eat; Dianna, my sister, says I am a TERRIBLE cook--gee, THANKS A LOAD, Dianna; I LOVE YOU TOO!!--). Dianna, who is a year older, lives with me, and she and I are very close. She is blind (has been since the age of 12), so I have to do a lot of things for her; but she is still quite independent in her own way. And boy, is SHE ever STUBBORN!!! Tell her to do one thing, and she'll do it--but in HER own fashion!!
I have been happier now than ever, now that I am on my own, but I still face the stares and taunts of people each time they see me or my sister. I know they are only curious, but it still makes me uncomfortable, and it only brings back painful memories for me. I wish they would realize that staring isn't nice, and that we, as disabled people, DO NOT LIKE TO BE STARED AT!! We ARE NOT BUGS!!!! We are HUMAN BEINGS TOO, just like they are!!
Addendum: I also have another big plus to help me if things get too rocky for me to be able to handle: I have accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour, and I now regularly attend church each and every Sunday (and Wednesday). If it were NOT for the Lord Jesus, I wouldn't be here today; I would have probably been dead long ago!! But, because OF Him, I AM ALIVE, and I AM ON MY WAY TO HEAVEN!! I am a *CHRISTIAN*!!
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