Abington Pennsylvania February 5th at 3:51 pm a beautiful baby girl was born but was rushed out of the room, she was a preemie. 

Nine minutes later I came out, and once again rushed out of the room but there was no doubt that I would be fine. On that same day, it was the Super Bowl, and my Dad begging for it to be put on. 

Bribing the nurses, “ Imagine if Oprah Winfrey had a once-in-a-lifetime sale that was happening right now, wouldn’t you put it on?” He got his way as my mom was throwing up in the bathroom. The Pittsburgh Steelers and The Seahawks, Steelers won. Of course, my Dad would have rathered it to the Eagles on the field but he won his bet.

Eleven days later, I came home. My sister was still in the hospital, and that’s when I learned my name, Paige. Paige is a pretty name, though. In 6th grade, I learned it meant Servant Boy in Latin. I wasn’t too happy about that. The other child born with me had survived. Her name is  Ava. She learned her name meant Bird in Latin. Needless to say, I hold a grudge at my mom for letting my Dad named me. “Are you kidding me, Mom? Why couldn’t you name me after one of your cousins like Ava! No, I was named by Dad because he found the name pretty, so unoriginal.”

Haha, My name means Bird

Four years later, my little sister was born, and we moved out of our home in Philadelphia. Her name is Sophia meaning “Wisdom” obviously, there are favorites.

Really!

When we moved into my home now, my mom concluded that being born during the Super Bowl was a sign. So she put us into football, and by football, I mean soccer. “Why do we call Football, Soccer? The United States is so weird.”

Due to my early growth spurts, I was taller than most on my soccer team. Meaning I was the fastest, and I took pride in it. Playing Mid-field to prove to everyone how fast I was, even though I had asthma inhibiting my ability to breathe.

Like how an asthma attack would sneak up on me, so did depression, and I was eventually diagnosed with ADHD, Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. At seven years old, I became self-conscious of my body, my long arms, knobby knees, and how skinny my legs and arms were. I was healthy when I was younger. I was born to be knobby. I was perfectly healthy and on the right track. Yet  I hated how I looked. So I ran it out. If I ran fast enough, if I ran hard enough, I could run away from my thoughts. 

“Haha, you can’t catch me!” sadly, I always had asthma to put me in my place. Eventually, what I was running from would catch up and hit me like a truck.

I was terrified of my own mind, how my mind could say such things about myself, how she could make me feel. How she would make me act. I was constantly belittling myself, “I wasn’t pretty enough.” “I am not smart enough” and “You were never meant to be born” paralyzed me to everything, making me scared to take risks.

Except for running, when I ran, I didn’t have time to think about how much I had eaten that day, how skinny my legs looked in my soccer shorts, and how much taller I was than everyone else. I would just have a pounding in my head, yelling at me to push harder. To never stop. 

I would use running as my therapy for my physical appearance from first grade on. It also helped quiet my opinions on my body. I would rationalize that my boney structure made me more aerodynamic and that my body was made for running. 

When I got to sixth grade, I was finally diagnosed with ADHD and Depression. Experimenting with brands, the dosages, and how my medicine would interact with one another. The emotional turmoil that put me through was not fun. Luckily I had running.

 I would get my soccer uniform on, go onto that soccer field with my teammates and just run. I didn’t know about doctors, therapists, and my mom constantly checking in on me. I had myself and the ground. The only thought in my mind was to get to the ball. 

After that experience, I started using running as my therapy for everything in seventh grade, I joined track, and I was the happiest I was. As well, I got accepted onto the Ukrainian Nationals Soccer Club. A pretty prestigious soccer club. It did cost a lot of money, especially for two children. Mom would say ” are you serious? You guys are not allowed to miss a single practice,” and we didn’t. 

Around that time, I also started to gain weight in my legs. It was muscle, but it terrified me. Constantly being called skinny bones, the nickname stopped when I began to gain healthy weight. I saw myself as fat. It’s crazy how a few years can change a person’s view of themselves.

I am so big!

The hatred for myself had come back. So I put significant academic pressure on myself. When I started my meds back in 6th grade, I got straight A’s, and I was so proud that I had pushed the whole year to get only A’s. So I was determined to do that as well in 7th grade and do soccer and track. It was a very tight schedule. 

Wake up, go to school, do homework in 11th period, which was a break period, go to track, get changed in the car, eat, and run around at soccer practice. If I had busied myself constantly, I didn’t have to think. This lasted until I got home. Due to how far away the soccer club was, I would be coming home at 11 o’clock at night. I would shower and get dressed for bed. But now I’m able to think. You would think all that running and schoolwork would exhaust you. That’s when I learned that I also had insomnia.

Insomnia is entirely normal, and you should tell your parents about it if you find yourself struggling to fall asleep every night. I decided I didn’t deserve sleep, thinking that I wasn’t pushing myself hard enough physically in school. When I was definitely doing too much for a 13-year-old.

My life became unbalanced again when my cousins were placed in my home. Riley, Jacey, and Sydney. Riley was old enough to take care of herself. She had roomed with Ava. I was then put in charge of Sophia, who was 9, Jacey, 12, and Sydney, 6. They grew up in a very different environment than I was. They had many opinions about my parents, putting too much on us, and how we are multiple sports. The tiny insults aimed at my parents, who didn’t have to take them in, annoyed me. So I would run. I would just run until their comments would stop. Them not listening to me would be pushed out of my mind.

Riley Jacey Sydney

Jacey was crying in bed because her mom, my aunt, wouldn’t answer her phone at 11 o’clock at night. On the other side of me, Sydney took up all of the beds even though they had their own rooms to sleep in. I had to make their food, which would be the food my Dad would bring home from the restaurant he had made when I was 4. I would help them with their homework. I would force Sophia to shower and ensure that Sydney didn’t drown in my bath.