Truth or Consequences

Gabbi

What's up my name is Gabbi, or according to my birth certificate that proves I am a human Gabriella Blaine and I would like to informally welcome you to my personal hell and formally tell you that I fucked up, and if you can make it through some hard shit then you'll find the point in my story where you want to scream through the pages and rip me out but you'll realize that it is sadly too late. But before we get to my personal hell, let's start out with my moms. The day I was born.

November 22nd, 2001

Thanksgiving. 

A day where families are gathered around fancy tables with a ridiculous amount of food, telling each other how much they love each other and what they are thankful for. A whole day of love and happiness but that's not how it was in the Blaine family. My mom was barely an adult, meaning that even though she couldn't hold her own she was about to have to take care of someone else so if she wan't grown, she was about to be.

2:45p.m.

My mom dragged herself off of her hard and uncomfortable twin mattress that lay on the floor on the women shelter. She arrived at the shelter a little under a year ago when my "dad" kicked us out of his apartment that his parents rented for him because his mom said he was too young to have a baby. So he had to make a decision, lose the apartment and his families inheritances or lose us and seeing how my mom was a one night stand hook up 9 months ago he had no problem bouncing. After putting on her hand me down clothes that were provided she walked down the street to the soup kitchen and waited in line for her dinner that day. It was a little earlier than usual because of the holiday, so the spread was a little larger and that meant so were the crowds and just because my mom was about to pop like a balloon nobody let her go ahead in line, that's how it was living where we did. After waiting for about an hour in line she received her plate of food and sat down at a table with people already eating, but she was still alone.

And just like that my mom went into labor at the soup kitchen. One of the volunteers called 911 on the phone where they helped her get in the ambulance to be brought to the hospital to have me, alone, and at 4:15p.m., I Gabriella Grace Blaine entered the world happy and healthy not knowing that even though I just arrived I had a lot going against me and the next 18 years was going to be a battle that no one, not even my mom could prepare me for.