Love and Dysfunction: A Story of Perseverance

By Amelie Andry

Hello, I'm Amelie Andry, and this is my story. I have survived a mother who says she cares but is so cold it's almost impossible to believe she actually does and a father who is vulgar and extremely inappropriate. I have also endured bullying, false accusations, manipulation, suicide attempts, and immoral acts.I am a sarcastic and blunt person, so be prepared to roll your eyes, laugh, and possibly cry. Be prepared to be surprised and appalled. Most of all, be prepared to hear a blunt presentation of someone who has persevered through determination, acceptance, and hard-learned lessons.My story is about overcoming anything and everything life can throw at you, and it is not pretty; however, it is enlightening. It is my perspective of the mistakes that school systems, psychiatrists, and parents can make. If you are a person who relates to my story, maybe it will show you the mistakes not to make. Hopefully, this book will open eyes and possibly initiate changes in your life or in the way you address people with psychiatric issues. You never know what someone has gone or is going through. My hope is, after reading this, you will be more open-minded, accepting, and forgiving of people who are different and don't fit into society's box. My biggest goal in writing this is to help people. If this book helps one person, then it was worth reliving all I have gone through while writing this over the last two years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889822868

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

A Short Note and Warning to Readers

A Note to Family Members and Friends Reading This

A Few Things to Keep in Mind

My Mother's Family

Aunt Daisy a.k.a. My Only Childhood Friend

Aunt Dahlia: The Mother Hen

Aunt Violet: The Wild One

My Mother's Beginning

My Beginning: When I Was Innocent

The End of My Mom and William

After William: My Mother Shows Her True Strength

William: The Almost Father

My Siblings

Mean Ass: The Evil Half Brother

My Stepsisters: Good versus Evil

Lucas: My Adorable and Totally Awesome Little Brother

A New (and True) Dad

Kindergarten, 1st Grade, and the Start of Trying to Fix Me

2nd Grade

3rd Grade

4th and 5th Grade: Move to Michigan

Psych Stuff a.k.a. Amelie is Nuckin' Futs

The Suub: 6th Grade

What Did My Parents Do? How Did They Cope?

Suicide Attempts Begin: The Consequences of Bullying

7th Grade

Back in Georgia: 8th Grade

Campbell Middle: 8th Grade

The Stupid-Ass Things I Did to Keep Fake Friends

Hidden Fake Academy

Three Springs

The Cottage School: 10th Grade

At Home Tutoring and North Cobb High School: 10th Grade

North Carolina and Athens Drive High School: 11th and 12th Grade

St. Andrews College

After St. Andrews

Chaotic Relationships and Bad Situations

First Marriage

More Chaotic Relationships

RJ: The Stolen Child

Even More Chaotic Relationships and My First Son

Scumbag's True Colors

After Scumbag

Wyatt: Second Son

Third Husband: The Birth of My Other Four Boys

Pregnant with Twins

After Owen

Letters to My Mother and Aunt Violet

To My Mother

To Aunt Violet

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Love and Dysfunction

A Story of Perseverance

Amelie Andry

Copyright © 2024 Amelie Andry

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2024

ISBN 979-8-88982-285-1 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88982-286-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

A Short Note and Warning to Readers

This book contains adult subjects including sexual subjects, swearing, sarcasm, possibly bad grammar, and many hard truths that I have never told many of my family and friends. So be forewarned, this is not a book for the young.

I will be using pseudonyms in this book to protect my privacy as well as that of the people involved in my life. Some of the pseudonyms are not necessarily names at all; they may just be words that describe the person I am discussing. For example, my half brother will be Mean Ass. My story may or may not be significant to you. It may or may not be traumatic, have a happy ending, or entertain you.

Keep in mind that the main reason I am writing this book is not for entertainment or fun; I am hopeful that reading my story will help someone cope with similar issues or help others to understand that sometimes people who seem weird, antisocial, quirky, or different still have the same feelings as normal people. Mental health issues are many and have too many different symptoms to list. Maybe by reading my story you will learn to be a more open-minded, forgiving, understanding, and/or accepting person, or maybe you will come to understand and accept yourself better. If reading my story helps in any way, that is my goal.

This book is my perception of events, and my perceptions are most likely not always rational, and if it's something that happened during childhood, it may not even be the most accurate. So my account of things is the way that I felt and perceived the events at the time they happened or, in some instances, how it makes me feel today. I have added my perspective as an adult where I find that my feelings or perspectives are now drastically different. I am going to be as detailed as I can about major events and others not so much. My life was utter chaos at times; lots of things would happen so fast that I honestly can't recall details. I am sure there are events that will be left out simply because I don't remember them. I will do my best to give as much detail and accuracy as possible. With that being said…

My mom has helped me write this book by giving me all sorts of documents that both refreshed my memory of certain events and were extremely helpful in understanding her perspective of events where possible. I will include her perspective and some direct quotes as well. Hopefully, this will give you the most accurate record of the events and may even help you understand your own actions and feelings if you can relate any part of my life to any part of yours.

Also, there are times during the course of this book that it may seem like I am bashing my mom. I'm not! My mother did the best she could; however, as a child, I was not necessarily able to understand that, so since I am trying to be as real and honest as possible in this book, I am expressing the feelings and perceptions I had at the age I was during my story to the best of ability. My mom has many flaws just like everyone does, but she did her best, and I am forever grateful for that.

A Note to Family Members and Friends Reading This

I want to reiterate that this book is my truth!! If you happen to figure out, I am referring to you, and if it offends you, then either look at why it offends you or get over it. Please do not expect me to apologize for my feelings and opinions. I will respect your feelings and opinions, so I expect you to respect mine. My intentions are not to hurt anyone or piss anyone off; however, I am quite sure both of those will happen as a result of this book.

So, Mom, if you're reading this, please keep in mind that my feelings are representative of the age I was at the point in my life I am writing about. They are not necessarily how I feel now. Also, I apologize in advance for any hurt this book may cause to you or any other family members. It's not my intention to hurt anyone in my life; it's my intention to help anyone in the world who has similar issues to mine.

A Few Things to Keep in Mind

As you read this story, you will see many different diagnoses made by many different doctors. Currently, I am thirty-eight years old, and the only ongoing diagnoses I have are: bipolar II tendencies and ADD. I have had the same psychiatrist for years, and she doesn't believe I have any of the prior diagnoses. Whether I ever actually had them or not, I don't know. It doesn't seem like someone would grow out of or be magically cured from the diagnoses I had though. Some of them maybe but not all. So as you're reading this, ask yourself these questions:

Was I labeled or diagnosed so often with so many different things just because the different doctors felt they were obligated to do so?

How many people are misdiagnosed by psychiatrists because they seem to insist on giving a label?

What issues would being medicated for an improper psychiatric diagnosis cause?

As an adult, these are questions I have asked myself many times. Many of us tend to blame our parents for a lot of issues we have. Let me say this: there are always things that a parent does that he or she regrets, all parents make mistakes, and all parents also have personal deficits or flaws that, as children, we experience firsthand. I don't know if that means all or some of the issues I had are their fault or not. I do tend to think that some of the things they allowed to happen to me and that some of the things they chose to do for me had a negative effect on my psyche. With all that being said, I'll get started.

My Mother's Family

Aunt Daisy a.k.a. My Only Childhood Friend

My Aunt Daisy is mentally handicapped because of a really high fever as an infant. Aunt Daisy and I were close when I was a child. Maybe it was our somewhat similar mindsets, behaviors, and actions; or maybe it was just because she is a sweet, kind, and loving woman. Unfortunately, Aunt Daisy was still living with Grandaddy and The Dragonlady. When I was six or seven, I recall The Dragonlady beating my Aunt Daisy over the head with a rolled-up newspaper like she was one of her dogs. I got really mad and overpowered her, stole the newspaper, and started popping The Dragonlady over the head, asking her how she liked it.

When my mom picked me up, she was upset with my behavior, but I got lectured rather than punished. I recall telling her she could punish me however she wanted, but I was most definitely not in the wrong this time. I obviously didn't use that wording at that age, but I was indignant that she was upset with me. Looking back, I find the fact that I just got a lecture interesting; it seems like I should have gotten a more severe punishment. Maybe my mom agreed with me. She does not recall this event, but I recall it vividly.

Anyway, when I stayed overnight there, I slept with Daisy in her bed. We woke up one morning, and The Dragonlady was livid. She was yelling at Daisy and being mean, saying that she had killed Johnny, the cockatoo. She called her names—basically cursing her out without using curse words. I got upset and let the other birds—except Doc, a mean African gray—out of their cages. The Dragonlady then turned her wrath on me, which was my goal at the time.

I recall Daisy making me uncomfortable because I didn't understand her outbursts and tantrums. I also recall wondering if that was how I acted and if I had had a high fever at some point and was also mentally handicapped. Our outbursts were similar but also different somehow.

Aunt Dahlia: The Mother Hen

I also stayed with my Aunt Dahlia a lot growing up. Those are some of the best times I remember as a child. She and I were very close then, and we still are today. She had a huge Christmas tree every year—like twenty feet tall. She was always nice and caring to me. I recall her getting mad at me a couple times over my behavior, but it wasn't major as I recall. I just remember good food, laughing, her dogs, jumping with my older cousins on the trampoline, and love. Oh, and let's not forget Priscilla the pig; my mom was appalled she had gotten a pig as a pet, but I thought it was great.

I recall MawMaw (I think she was Dahlia's stepmom) and her cookies. OMG! She made the best cookies. She was also always nice and very loving to me, one of the very few normality in my childhood I can recall. Aunt Dahlia also had a sweet neighbor who would pinch my cheeks (which I hated) and call me snaggletooth when I lost my two front teeth in kindergarten. So in general, I recall hating the drive to Griffin, where Dahlia lived, but enjoying being there. Aunt Dahlia was and still is like a second mom to me. She showed me compassion, affection, and she listened to me. This is why I think these are some of the best memories of my childhood.

Aunt Violet: The Wild One

I also saw my Aunt Violet from time to time. Her daughter, Deena, and I didn't get along well. Deena is younger than me by a couple years. Violet's husband, Mitchell, scared me a little bit, especially when he yelled at us girls. I don't recall many things happening at Violet's, but I think I acted out more at her house than with my Aunt Dahlia.

I didn't feel like Violet liked me much. It was different than the feeling I got with teachers; she was more distant, more like scared of me or of what I might do. I also believe she was the one I felt most comfortable testing boundaries with. She was a bit more laid-back in her reactions. There was also always more to do at her house than at home or at my Aunt Dahlia's. Go-karts and video games were a couple of things I was able to do there that stand out in my memory. I recall fighting with Deena and getting reprimanded by Mitchell, but I don't recall any especially bad incidents. That does not mean there weren't any, just that I don't recall any. Out of my mother's side of the family, Violet's personality is the one I most relate to. She was the one I liked the most, especially as I got older. Violet was the baby, the rebel, the wild one. While I never actually saw this, I have heard stories and can just tell from her personality. She played a much larger role later in my life and not in a good way!

My Mother's Beginning

Let's start at the very beginning, even back before I was born. Before I can tell my story, I must tell my mother's story and give you some background on my father. I want to make sure y'all have a good understanding of the home my mother came from and the foundation she tried desperately to build for me, even though I seemed to fight her at every turn.

I was a very emotional, angry, frustrated, and defiant child. I don't know why or how, but my mother managed to love me through it all. She is the strongest woman I know, even with our differences and even though I hated her at times during pivotal moments in my life. I believe my mom did the absolute best she could and all while loving me with all her heart and soul. I don't have a lot of background info on William, my biological father. I do not know how he was raised. I don't know what his childhood was like. He has never talked about it, and I have never asked. Zach had a very good childhood and came from a solid family foundation. His patience and acceptance of me, as well as the values and foundation he tried to give me in concert with my mom, is proof of this, in my opinion.

As I matured and grew older, I realized that most of what I was raging against was simply my mother's mistakes. It wasn't a ruthless campaign of anger and hate but simply a series of missteps. Now as a mother of six boys, I have also made mistakes: that's human nature. So long as we learn from our mistakes, we can proceed to lead better lives, improving ourselves every step of the way.

My mom gave me the foundation to understand this and the tools to take control of my life, even if I came late to that realization, but better late than never. Since I have realized it, I've taken my life by the horns and improved it drastically in regard to controlling my emotions and actions.

The perspective I have of my mom is that she is classically beautiful with blond hair and blue eyes, about five feet six, and extremely intelligent. She is very athletic and takes care of herself and her health. She exercises regularly and has the self-control to consistently eat a healthy diet. She is a control freak—like me so I come by that honestly. She is also very giving and compassionate even though she is not the best at showing it to others or at least to my little brother and me. She has always tried to do what is best, not just for me but in any given situation. She can be impatient and judgmental, although she doesn't see herself that way. She is a giver. She helps at charities, volunteers in the community, and goes to church regularly. She has endured hardships that have not been in her control to avoid. She has learned from her experiences during childhood and while raising me and became a stronger person from them. She and Zach, my stepfather, are very financially responsible and live within their means. They have prospered due to hard work and good financial management. My mom is very honest and can be blunt. She is assertive and outspoken. She is more tactful than I am when doing so, though. I do not like disappointing my mother; I crave her acceptance and approval. I look to her for advice and guidance, although she is not very good at listening to my problems. She tends to avoid drama and anything that will upset her, especially when it comes to me. My mom and I are closer now than ever, but she is not one of those moms I can call and talk to about life issues. I think some of