About Me

I sing, I draw.. I write, I type.. I'm nice, I'm sweet, affectionate, and deep.. I cling, I like, I might even love.. I'm quiet, I'm shy, I'm even touched.. I'm me, and that's all I ever was. 

Hello, My name is Daphine Thompson; but many call me Feenie sense I was a kid. If you know me, you know I like being called Feenie. On my spare time I like to draw, write, sing and some times just walk around town taking random pictures. Let's see... Well I'm not a normal girl who likes to primp up. I guess that's cause I grew up playing with my older brother and younger cousin. The farthest I got with make up was applying lip stick and nail polish ( I hardly ever wear lip stick any more). I never liked barbie dolls but I liked stuffed animals and still do.

Also, I love my parents and I am not ashamed to admit that I am close to them. I take care of my parents sense I cannot afford to support our home. I help fill out money orders to pay bills, pay bills by phone, help with banking, help with washing clothes/dishes, cleaning the house, help taking care of the pets, moving furniture around, helping to go grocery shopping and to do as needed by my parents.

I always say to really know a person; you have to accept all their faults. Well back when I was finishing up my writing course; I wrote about the negative things in my life and some positive as a biography. So i have decided to add it here in this section about me.

My life isn’t perfect...no one's is. I've had troubles and still face them. I'm not afraid to admit to spending countless nights crying myself to sleep. I'm not afraid to share with you that I've tried to kill myself a few times.

Let me start at the beginning and maybe you'll understand why I'm so fucked up. But let me make one thing clear: I love my family and wouldn’t change anything that has happened to me because it has sculpted me into the strong individual I am today. When I came into this world, I was born blue. Oh right, you would think it's cute I was born a Smurf. Is it cute that I was born a premature baby with a chord wrapped around my throat? That’s right I was fucked up since I was born.

I was told that my mother tipped a guy off about where someone was selling drugs. The guy being a cop arrested the drug dealer. Evidently that drug dealer called another guy who then pushed my mother on her stomach and her water broke.

I was healthy at least, but I was tiny and as white as an albino. My mother thought I was cute until she found out I was her baby. Then she denied I was hers because her last baby, my brother, was as big as a pillow when he was born. But she took me home anyway and grew to love me.

Then my smartass dumb father and his sister decided to dress me in boy clothes, take all my fancy baby dresses and throw them in the dumpster. That wasn't the worst part, he took me to his sister's house for two weeks... didn't give me a bath and brought me to the doctor’s filthy and with a dirty diaper, and I almost got taken away from my mother.

When I was maybe two years old my aunt decided to bring down some soup for us kids. We each got a bowl and I ate a full one. My brother wouldn't eat any more then a spoonful. He said it tasted funny. He gave it to my mom and she sniffed it. Then my dad smelt it and they rushed me to the hospital. I was diagnosed with severe alcohol poisoning at the age of two because my aunt decided to put vodka in the soup.

My mom was really strict. We had to put toys in specific order and if she found one toy in the wrong toy bin she'd throw the whole room at us. I mean the toys, the bins, the furniture. My mother even punched me once. But get this. It actually wasn't her fault. Thanks to the smartass doctors that didn't tell her she had a thyroid malfunction, which makes you very mean if you don't have it under control with meds, my life was that much more of a living hell.

When I was three; I decided to be a smart ass and climb up on our neighbor's RV. I wouldn't get down from the RV, so my mom called my dad. I even said no to my dad and he hopped up on the ladder and yanked me down and dragged me in the house. Now folks, this was exactly my fault. My dad used to keep a rolled up newspaper with black tape around it and he didn't normally hit us, but he kept it to “threaten" us. I couldn't sit in school the next day ‘cause when my dad grabbed me, my leg hit the ladder and it bruised. But for some dumb reason I told the teacher my dad hit me with the black stick. Then DCF made him give it to them.

Later I had to stay with my grandma for a few months while my mother was trying to go to work. One day it was like 110 degrees including humidity and my brother and me were playing outside most of the day. We tried to go inside but the doors were locked. So went to the other door and that was locked, too. We walked upstairs to the neighbors and could hear our father inside -- his brother lived up there. We knocked, no answer, we yelled that we were thirsty, still no answer. So we went and sat in the shade and by the time my mom came home we were almost passed out because my father was upstairs and my grandma was sleeping in her room.

Then when I became a teenager: my mother and me used to fight horribly. We'd scream and holler at one another. She used to pull my hair and slap my back. She slapped me across the face until I taught myself not to cry when she slapped and to look back at her. Last time she slapped me I looked back at her with an extreme amount of hate. And she didn't like it. So she stopped.

When I was about thirteen or fourteen I was just getting into my first b/f online. His name was Neil and it was my first encounter with cyber sex. We had a family pc and right after my cousin (not blood related) had moved out, (oddly my dad has a "thing" for her) he decided to take it out on me. When I was cybering I felt tingly for things I was doing with Neil. I knew my father couldn't read; I thought he was coming over to give me a hug. Instead he reached over and he was touching my breast.

I jumped away and yelled "What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" cause I knew that was wrong and I was at the stage in my life where I was standing up to my father. My mother woke up as he said don't tell anyone.

It took me a week to tell my mother about what he had done. The DCF came to my school and asked me if I wanted him to go to jail. Now don't think I'm nuts or stupid or think that I like what he did, I hate the shit my father did to me when I was a child. But I didn't want him to leave and stop being dad. I wanted him to stop doing the shit he did and just be dad.

So I told them no, I wanted him to go to therapy for it and he did. He took every single therapy class. And he is 100% better in that aspect. There are things that happened in his life that alerted his morals. As far as I know he hasn't gone after me or any other child since then. I love my father as my father, but I still cannot trust him fully because of this. I have side effects: I get nervous and shake/shiver when I’m in a small room with an older man. I’ve even gone to therapy for this and it has been the start of my depression.

No, I don’t take meds and I am not diagnosed. But I know how I felt and feel is not normal. I became antisocial in school because I wasn't pretty. I used to trust people when I was in middle school. But middle school affected me so badly that I literally was a hermit by the time I got to high school. I didn't talk or make friends or act socially in high school until my last years. I never participated by raising my hand; I only listened in class.

The first time I wanted to commit suicide was when my father came in my room and yelled at me for the electric bill. (He yells even if it's low.) But I yelled back and told him I was eighteen and I could stay up all night with the light on if I wanted to and he told me to get the fuck out of his house. I started to cry and I went in my closet and gabbed a scarf and tied it to the pole in the closet and to my neck and I tried to hang my self. I stopped myself because something told me I have something to do in this world.

Now I am doing good things, but like most people, I have relationship
problems. I hate being single and I hate being alone. I’m afraid. Loneliness is my only source of depression. I cry a lot over it. I’ve even cut myself at the very worst part of my depression, but I’ve not tried to kill myself again.

I bottled everything up until my mother and brother started to fight once when we first moved here. I could see myself grabbing a knife and stabbing myself with it. So I ran out the door with no explanation and went two blocks down to the little graveyard. I sat under a tree and cried for an hour. I asked them to please let me just die here. My family came looking for me. My mother found me and we talked. I told her about the vision I had. Sometimes my mom and I are so close. We can talk to each other. But sometimes we fight.  On my seventeenth birthday I had invited everyone to go to the beach together. My dad decided he didn't want to go, which sometimes is fine. But later I found out that he made plans to try and get my cousin to come to where we live and that hurt me a lot.

Also on my eighteenth birthday my mother told me to stop being lazy and go get a job. She apparently was pissed at me because in the previous week I didn’t go sign an application that she wanted me to. I spent most of my birthday walking the streets looking for a job, until my mother found me filling out an application in a restaurant. I wasn't happy to see her; I wouldn't talk to her for fifteen whole minutes. I even moved to another table when she came and sit across from me at the table. But eventually we did make up.

Don't get me wrong; I love my parents as my parents. If it weren't for my
parents, I wouldn't be who or where I am today. I appreciate my parents even if
they did bad things. Out of all the bad things that happened in my life, they were also very good to us at times. They stayed together for just about twenty-six years and still are, to be our mother and father even though they are not thrilled about one another. They put food in our mouths and provided shelter and water.

And look at me; I'm not a smoker, I don't do drugs, I have consumed a minimum amount of alcohol compared to my blood relatives that drink like a siv. I don't walk out the door and vanish with out telling my parents where I'm going. I never had sex and don't intend to till after I get married. I didn't get pregnant while I was in school. I didn't go walk the streets at night to have sex with strangers for money.

No, I've got a photography diploma that I passed with flying colors. I have passed a writing course and I love to read about insects and health conditions. I graduated high school on the high honor rolls. I take care of a variety of pets.

Yes, I’ve been abused, and I’m depressed. Yes, I'm emotional, and I cut myself when I get extremely depressed. Yes, I cry way more than normal and I know it's not healthy. Yes, I could be still suicidal if I am pushed far enough. Yes, both my parents were abused also.

            But just because I am fucked up doesn't mean I don't have feelings or that I'm faking it. It doesn't mean that what I say isn't true. If I told you I wanted to die right now at this very second, I would hope you are friend enough to listen to me and try to get me to calm down and talk. Don't tell me to die because deep down inside of me, every moment I live I want to die. You telling me to do so will only add to that part of me that I try so very hard to fight back. That part that adds pressure and everyone has a limit when it comes to too much pressure. Keep adding on another bit and that peace will overpower my will to survive. And then I'll be dead.

Do you think it ends there? That’s the problem with people. They always think something has to end or be cured and that nothing can ever last as long as your life. But they’re wrong. They’re all wrong! I’ve been told throughout my life that it will get better and I will find someone to love. All I’ve gotten is a world full of hurt and a life without love or happiness. So spare me the lies and take your petty pity elsewhere.

During the Fourth of July this year, my mother had wanted my brother to take us to watch the Fourth of July fireworks up close. But of course wrestling had to be on. So instead of hollering at him about it, she came in my room and yelled at me. She asked if I was going to ditch the plan as well. She didn’t give me a chance to even answer because my computer was on.

She said, “ I know! Your boyfriend comes first, right?” and stomped out of the room.

So I got pissed, said I have to go, shut my pc off and headed to the living room. She didn’t even have her shoes on.

I said, “ Well, are you coming or what?”

She said, “It’s an hour early. I don’t want you to come. You can go back in your room and talk to your boyfriend. I want to be alone.”

So I replied with an “Okay” and walked out the door and left the house. I traveled to a torn down vacant lot the call “the hub”, about a mile or so, and sat in the grass, then went to the graveyard to visit the spirits and finally went home.

It turned out that my mom went looking for me and walked all the way to the mall (about four miles) and back home looking for me because she was worried about me and all the creeps that come out at night and harass women, which did happen to me but I got out of it fine. See, my mom does care about me and don’t ever say she doesn’t.

Another time my mother was craving for ice cream and it was gone. So I got hollered at, although I only had a tiny bowl. It was my brother’s favorite ice cream and it had been there for more than a week. It was also one of the small containers. But my brother bought two more the next day. I view it as a tiny problem in my life.

But as of lately, I think I’ve had just about enough. I’ve been living here for over nine years. I’ve cleaned this apartment the best I can. I do chores all day because my mother can’t anymore. I wash clothes, I make dinner, I wash dishes, I fill out money orders, I help my father with his games on the computer, I lug groceries home, My mother pays for the cable. Do you think I get appreciated around here? No. Instead of one single and simple “thank you” (besides my mother), I get more problems. I am told I cannot have my light on too long, I cannot have my computer on for too long, I cannot have my TV on until 2am even if I am only watching TV. I cannot have my fan on for too long and especially when I leave my room, I cannot have my TV and computer on and I cannot have my door shut.

When I was twenty I honestly gave up looking for this fictitious “someone out there for me.” All my pathetic little life, I’ve been told relationship after relationship “ there’s someone out there for you.” Well I’m calling that bluff. I’m not going to look anymore. I’m going to focus on other things besides this fairy tale of love and happy endings.

Instead I had found a church to go to. Most people would call it a “Holy Roller” church, but it is a born again Christian church. It’s not like Catholic Church, Born again Christian Churches are very loud. But I loved it there because they are filled with the spirit of God and they preach the word of the Bible to a point.

           

            Though Catholic and Christian Church believes in the Lord Almighty, most churches teach what they themselves want you to do, not God’s word. This is why I feel much more comfortable believing in things the way I do

And thus my life begins again.

            I found a man and his name is Emmanuel Carrigan. We both have a lot of disabilities and some times it is interesting being with him online. We met in a social network called IMVU and have been together for about eight months sense we got together on October 10^th, 2013. Even though we may have argument; most of the time we get along and we really do love and care for each other. I couldn’t have asked for a better man.

As well as finding a boyfriend; I have found a unique obsession with insects around this area. As you may view on my photography page; I have a healthy variety of insects in my repertoire of images.

I have especially taken up rearing some Larder Beetles in an acceptable living condition with food and water. This, although stinky, is something extremely fascinating and extraordinarily amazing as you may read in future blog posts on my little herd of Larder Beetles.

Anything else you want to learn about me; head over to my blog area or my youtube area and watch or read about my things and me. A good place to start reading is my article called “Nintendo: Family Reunion”

http://feeniethings.blogspot.com/2009/07/nintendo-family-reuinion.html

Disperse!!!