Just a guy

Logic of the Insane
2001-11-30 06:32:59 (UTC)

What's in a name?

For all of the readers who have been asking me if Martin
Vanderhof is my real name, no, Vanderhof is not my last
name nor is Martin my first. My name is not important, as
Shakespear said, "What's in a name?" I know that names are
important to some, but reading the feedback that has been
sent to me has made me come to the realization that
although I have given many indirect clues as to who I am,
but my story is not yet known to you, the reader.
My name is Julian, I was born on July 10, 1985. I am the
oldest of 7 chidlren. My mother and father seperated when I
was in the 7th grade. When my dad left, my mom began living
the early-twenties-life which she missed out on because she
had me. I felt guilty, so I volunteered to be the
babysitter when she was gone to clubs and parties about 2-3
hours a night. Watching 6 kids is not easy, especially when
your are only 12 yourself. But I did it. I made dinner,
cleaned the kitchen, took care of the kids, got them in bed
in time and then cleaned up mess left by the children. I
would wait up for my mom each night to ensure that she was
okay.
Several times things happened that made me angry, I
woke up one Saturday morning to find my mom asleep in bed
with a tatooed guy with his arm draped around her. What was
I to think? I yelled at her and took off running. I made my
way to my grandma's house, about 10 blocks away. She took
me in and comforted me until I was ready to face my life
back home. I went back and mom was there and she tried to
explain, I forgave her and went back to my duties. One
night she left at 7pm and told me that she would be back at
(no later than) 9pm. Everything was done, the kids were in
bed and I was waiting for mom to come home. 9, 9:30, 10:30
and the phone rings. She said that she was sorry and that
she'd be home in and hour or so. 11:30, midnight, 12:15 the
phone rings again. She couldn't get a ride, but she got one
and she'd be home in 20 min. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6:30-time for
the kids to wake up and still no mom. I got them ready,
without sleeping all night, and fed them breakfast and sent
them to school. The youngest of my sisters was not going to
school yet, and I couldn't leave her alone, so I stayed
behind taking care of her. At 9 she called again and said
that she'd be home in half an hour. 10, 11, 12, 12:30-the
door opens and she comes in, picks up Jaycee, asked me why
I wasn't in school. I just looked at her in absolute
amazement and went to my room and slept.
I finally couldn't take anymore sometime in November so
I ran away from home, luckily my grandma found me and took
me to her house. She had cleaned out an old room and put a
bed and TV in there for me. So I moved in with my
grandparents. I lived with them throughout my 8th grade
year, but then they moved to Snowflake AZ. A very small
mountain town in Arizona. I hated it, If I was depressed
during the 8th grade, then I need a new word for how I felt
in the 9th grade. I wanted to kill myself, and looking
back, I don't know what stopped me. I wanted to get out of
there so I made arrangements with my dad. And during the
summer between 9th and 10th grade, I moved back to
California, where I currently reside with my father. Well,
that is just a bit of my life and background, but it will
at least give you some idea of who I am and why. Till next time.




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