Kayosha G. AFG Female

**Kayosha** (0:06)
My name is Kayosha, and I'm a grateful member of Allateen. I'm going to get ready.
Thank you for having me speak today. I am truly honored. The last time I spoke at a meeting, well, I don't think it was as large as this, but I was really nervous. I was so nervous that my knees were shaking so hard, I wasn't for sure if I could stand. Thankfully, I had a jeep there, and he gave me some comforting of me. If you're nervous, just pray to God. He said, that way, if you mess up, it'll be his fault.
Well, if you would have said that to me about four or five years ago, I would have gotten offensive. First of all, I'm perfect. I don't mess up. Second of all, I mess up.
Second of all, I don't need any help at all.
I think that is a character defect of a lot of Al-Anons. Many of us, including me, have grown into believing that we have to be perfect for numerous reasons. For me, I learned very early in life that if I wanted to be loved, I had to be perfect. My story is a pretty typical one. It all started when my mother was a senior in high school. She was 18, and she had to quit high school because she was 11 months after that. My mother and father had yet another girl, Bianca. A year and five months after that, my parents had yet another child, Cassie. Then my parents got married.
With each child, my parents abused substances even more. And by the time my brother, Richard, was born, 10 months after that, my brother was born with fetal alcohol effect. That is caused when the mother is pregnant, when the child is growing inside her. He also suffered through heart surgery and hernia surgery as a baby. Whenever I start to feel sorry for myself, all I have to do is look at my brother.
As a child, he went through heart surgery and hernia surgery. He was born with FAE. He has diabetes insipidus. He has ADHD. He has oppositional defiant disorder. He also lives in a institute, a development training center, four hours away from us. I think that a lot of people tend to, especially if things have gone wrong in their life, they feel sorry for themselves. They pity themselves, or as my mother says, they go on the pity pot. And they tend to look at what's wrong with them and what's happened to them, and they start feeling sorry for them. I think that, especially for me, any person, all they have to do is look around, and there's people that are going through something so much more. I'm definitely grateful for what I'm going through. I wouldn't want to be a person that has to deal with cancer, or be a mentally handicapped person struggling to go through school. And I think that all we have to do is look at those that are less fortunate than us, and then we can get down on one knee and thank God for what we do have.
Back to my story.
By the time my mother was 21, she had four children. Both of my parents were alcohol and drug abusers. Not only did they abuse the substances, but they also abused us. My father physically and sexually abused all three girls, and my mother physically abused all four children. We were also being neglected. A lot of not so good memories came into that household. I remember being so afraid when my mom would come home because I knew she would be drunk, and we were always so worried of what kind of mood she would be in. I also remembered that I tried to protect my sisters. I started sleeping in the rug in front of the door. That way, if my parents came home drunk, I would be the one they would hurt instead of my sisters. I also remember always being hungry. I remember that one time we found a little tray full of miniature bunnies hidden underneath the cupboard. My sisters and I were so excited. We wanted to eat them all at once. The mother and me took over, and I decided that we should keep them and savor them. That way, we would have enough to eat. I would split the chocolates into three, the little bitty chocolate's about that big, and I'd give one to my sister, one to my other sister, and I would eat one, and that would be our meal for the day. If both of my sisters were really hungry, I would split it in two and give them to my sisters. One time, I got really hungry, and I decided to make macaroni and cheese. I don't know if I turned the stove on or not, but I remember thinking it wasn't as good as the way mom made it, but it was food, just the same.