Resilience Amidst Adversity: the Jason Hopkins story Part 1

Hello Hopeful family.  I am excited you have visited and I am excited to share part one of my journey of transforming from victim to victor, survivor to thriver, and utterly hopeless to ultimately hopeful.   In this episode I share the first 18 years of my life, covering in raw detail the events that affecting me all throughout my unique experiences.  Now, you will notice that this episode is flagged for explicit content.  I want to give a courteous alert that there are themes discussing SA, su*c*d*, as well as graphic portrayals of key events.  Please listen with discretion.  If you are able to, my greatest hope is you will see the sovereign hand of God on my life even through the darkest times.

*The intro and outro music is entitled "Lite Saturation" composed by 'Epic,' utilized from the source Free Music Archive (FMA) and licensed for commercial and person use (CC BY-ND

Chapters

• 0:00 From Victim to Thriver
• 6:08 Childhood Survival in Dysfunctional Family
• 15:43 Childhood Trauma and School Struggles
• 23:55 Childhood Trauma and Foster Care
• 28:30 Journey Through Foster Care System
• 40:10 Life Altering Journey Through Turmoil
• 53:23 Navigating Emerging Adulthood

Transcript

Speaker 1: 0:00

Welcome to the Hopeful Perspective Podcast. I am your host, jason Hopkins, and if you are with me today, there's a real chance. You have already taken time to listen to our introduction, where I reveal the vision that this podcast can bring to your life and cause you to go from survivor to thriver, a victim to a victor, as well as from a hopeless sufferer to a hopeful storyteller. Today, I'm going to take some time and share with you my testimony, or my story, of how I came to the place of the hopeful perspective, so I want to encourage you to grab your favorite snack, hot or cold beverage and then get comfortable and come on this journey with me, as I share with you in the most vulnerable, honest portrayal I can of my own origin story.

Speaker 1: 0:52

Not a lot is known about my mother before she came to Hermiston, oregon, and met my father. Now she was all of a petite five foot two, jet black hair that went down her back and looked every bit of the almost 50% Native American heritage that she claimed coursed through her bloodstream. I do not know exactly how old she was when she met my father, but interestingly, he too was only five foot two and wore his Sandy locks down to his shoulders when they first met. I remember how handsome he was, given his bushy mustache and bushy sideburns that were prevalent in the late 70s and early 80s. What we do know is that when I was born, my mother, kathy, was only 17 years old, and my father, kent though most know him as Buck was 22. Not exactly a picture perfect, let alone a legal beginning to my story. Not exactly a picture-perfect, let alone legal beginning to my story. Now, one of the characteristics that marked my upbringing is that neither of my parents had the propensity to acquire nor hold down jobs. Throughout my childhood, I can recall my mother serving as a maid and my father working sheet metal or whatever odds and ends jobs he could get, but unfortunately their lifestyle that involved drugs and alcohol. Specifically to my mother, and more pointedly alcohol that affected my father, would undoubtedly lead them to always struggling to rent a home for a length of time, let alone pay utilities, buy food or any other needs that a family home requires. My mother suffered from a variety of mental health issues from as far back as I could remember Depression, ocd, paranoia and eventually diagnoses of eating disorders and even schizophrenia would all serve as what would be known as dual diagnosis, along with her drug and alcohol use. My father would struggle with alcohol use, as has been stated, and I know that he also struggled with depression throughout his life. Their wounds that they brought into the home personally only triggered the wounds manifested in one another. The theme of these issues would compile to be the foundation, or lack thereof, that my family was built on.

Speaker 1: 3:07

I will get to my first memories, but I thought it would be most appropriate to include what was witnessed by my relatives of my earliest years. My paternal grandfather and my step-grandmother lived in a nearby town as I grew up, and they served to fill in their experiences of my infantile years, as they remembered, and they shared these with me as I became older, my grandmother recalled a time that, when I was all of one to two years of age so an infant that she came over to pick me up for the day. When she came into our home, it reeked of marijuana and diapers. I was in my high chair and diapers. I was in my high chair, clotheless, and only in a diaper that I'd been in for what appeared to be a long time, as it brimmed with its contents when I reacted to a new face in the room. I had apparently become naturally excited, as you might expect a toddler to do. My mother, however, didn't share in my enthusiasm, as I was apparently in the midst of a punishment. Didn't share in my enthusiasm, as I was apparently in the midst of a punishment. My grandmother stated that my mother proceeded to bark something at me before she came over and lifted me by the arm out of the high chair and brushed my doll-like body into the wall. My grandmother was beside herself she would later share with me but was at a loss of what to do or say. The lack of instinct, social skills or wherewithal to not even abuse her infant in front of another adult would indicate the level of psychosis and illness that my mother was dealing with, as well as dispel out the environment her infant would grow up in.

Speaker 1: 4:40

Now I do not have many other memories myself or that I can recall being shared with me regarding my life as an infant. As a matter of fact, I do not recall anything of my life before the ages of five to six years old. My earliest memory is of me unwrapping a single slice of Kraft cheese I had fetched from under the bed bed. I recall the feeling of being so hungry, and I was apparently desperate enough to sneak as my mother came to call it sneak food in order to nourish myself or my eventual siblings. This memory partners well with others, where I can recall waking before my parents and sneaking whatever I could find to eat from the kitchen. As a young kid, I remember looking forward to eating a butter and cinnamon sandwich or a butter and onion sandwich, or utilize any other condiments that I could find. I would sell myself out by spilling ketchup on my bedroom floor. This would begin the hostile relationship with my mother as it pertained to food and the fact that she would become resentful of my need to sneak in order to satiate myself. It was, though I was pointing out her weakness as a provider, or even as a mother. This hostile relationship would haunt me the rest of my time under the roof, as future memories would reveal. At this point, I ought to introduce other members of my family as they would come into it.

Speaker 1: 6:08

Only a year or so after I was born, my mother gave birth to twin girls, christy and Misty. Unfortunately, they would be born severely premature and they would pass away after a few short months. I know that these losses terrorized my mother, as she told me. So Three years after I was born, my brother, jeremy, came into the fold. My mother decided to be unique and spell his name with an A, and he was born with the darkest of hair and shared a lot of the physical characteristics of my mother, and I know she fell in love with him from the beginning. For the rest of my childhood in the home, kathy would let me know when I was found to be in trouble that Jeremy was indeed her favorite. Three years after Jeremy came my sister, shailene, so she was six years younger than I was. It was around her birth that my parents actually decided to legalize their union and get married at the local courthouse, although this decision didn't cause them to be in the relationship for very much longer. I love my brother and my sister.

Speaker 1: 7:15

I adopted the mentality early on that whatever I did on my own behalf, I would be carrying out for them. If I stole food for myself, I would be sure to bring enough for all of us. We had very little in the way of toys and books that you might expect young kids to have, as anything that we might receive at all became sources of punishment for upsetting our mother. I can recall our bedrooms. All three of us would be forced to share a tiny room in some of the low-budget rentals that we lived in. There were times I recall sleeping on an egg foam pad, and other times I can recall actually having a bed and a bed frame made of metal. I will actually share a memory involving this in the future.

Speaker 1: 7:56

But sometime after my mother realized that I would attempt to get food to make up for the malnourishment we experienced to make up for the malnourishment we experienced she got into the habit of locking her door from the outside With a latch hook lock. She had become more and more paranoid as we got older. Further, given her drunk, drug-induced or psychotic states, she would leave us in the bedroom for any length of time, and we wouldn't know how long that might be. Our toilet actually became a hole in the wall behind the door. This was the only way to relieve ourselves, as disgusting as it was and how bad it smelled. We were given little choice, but of course we were met with the most severe of punishments.

Speaker 1: 8:43

Now you might be wondering where my father was during all of this, as you've heard little involving him. The truth is, most of my childhood memories for much of my life were pretty scattered. More truthfully, and I would learn much later during therapy, I had been looking backwards toward a picture where I could often see only one bit of the memory. This led to many scattered memories, sometimes feeling unchronological and out of order. This was also true remembering my father and his involvement. What I do recall is that he and my mother had a violent and tumultuous relationship. We heard screaming and physical domestic violence on the regular. I remember times my mother would scream for me and these were times where the door maybe wasn't locked to our room and I would answer only to find my father was on top of her in the living room or bedroom as she lay on the floor and she insisted I go next door to call the police. He would insist otherwise that she was okay, that she was the reason for the irrelevant issues. All I know is I was terrified to upset either one of them and I was confused by it all. Now I had grown accustomed to physical violence myself as a punishment for triggering our mother while she was in one of her states, undoubtedly leading to violent beatings, cuts and bruises that would become increasingly impossible to always hide, as my parents' relationship remained violent and escalated. I remember feeling the wrath of my mother on me or my siblings increasing proportionately Not long after they married. I remember my father leaving the home for good. This was the point.

Speaker 1: 10:23

My mother began serial relationship after relationship and brought men in on a brief basis or even a boyfriend basis. I was about six years old around the time that my father left the home. I remember getting to see him was an absolute privilege, but it became fewer and far in between as time went along. This also marked the time, it seemed, my mother's heaviest partying and drinking picked up. Her nightlife seemed rampant and when this happened us kids would either be shuffled over to the most available babysitter if she was to go out or we would be locked in the room if the party was at our home.

Speaker 1: 11:02

Now, in the winter times in Hermiston Oregon it could be as cold as five or more below and the summertime as hot as 110 degrees or more. Now, this is noteworthy because if my mother was to be on a bender, then this meant we would be longer in our room, without food, without water. I can recall literally sucking the metal bar of my bed when it got so hot, just to trick my mind that it was wet. There were seasons when utilities might be shut off. That meant no running water During.

Speaker 1: 11:33

One of these times is when I first resorted to drinking out of the toilet bowl when there was no other option. This was the desperate measure that defied logic or sanitation. I would often have to pick my spouse to scrounge for food if we hadn't been fed hope. The door wasn't locked and in the event it was. I became creative and snuck out the window. When I had come to a certain age, we were in our room almost two straight weeks without food at one point, having had little water during this duration, when I first stole from our dog bowl and brought dog food back in through the bedroom window to share. This same desperation later caused me to run to the nearest store and I performed my first crime by lifting an orange sun-kissed soda and bringing it home Not food, mind you, one can of soda. This particular instance I came across poor timing, as my mother had discovered me gone and I remember witnessing the red butt of her cigarette in the dark of my room. Awaiting my return, her and her boyfriend issued one of the worst beatings I could remember. Up to that point, they also proceeded to board up the window.

Speaker 1: 12:39

Survival came at a price in the home. Often it was a risk that I was willing to take. My siblings and I had our own ways of coping and dealing with things. I learned early on that my brother was capable of doing things that just didn't seem right or, dare I use the word, normal. In bed he would rock his head, clasping his hands together in front of him, arms straight out, and rock back and forth for almost an hour before he ever fell asleep. Later in life we learned he had Asperger's syndrome, which would account for the different things that I observed growing up, and this was how he coped with the trauma his little brain absorbed. Jeremy could do very little to upset our mother, it seemed, yet this act of rocking his head before bed triggered her every single time. Now I want to pause and make this important point.

Speaker 1: 13:27

I did have positive memories with both my father and my mother, though they did seem few and far between. I recall times we'd be allowed to play outside with one another as siblings and explore the chicken coop fort out of old army ammunition boxes in our final home. I recall my mother gardening during these times when she let us play outside. She loved to garden. She also loved to listen to classical rock and other oldies music. I truly believe that, despite the abuse that occurred in our home, she was doing the very best that she could in her mind and that she was a good mom.

Speaker 1: 14:07

Drugs, alcohol and mental illness all have a way of skewing reality and in truth it had skewed my own version of reality as well. I was quoted in a newspaper many years later with the fact that quote I thought it normal to go to school, eat dog food, drink toilet water, be locked in our room, be punished sometimes just to protect my siblings, and then rinse and repeat. I remember a time when my mother had gone to the cupboard to make macaroni and cheese. When she opened the cupboard and produced nothing for us to eat, she broke down and proceeded to console us as we would not be eating that night. Instead of frustration or anger about our food situation, I remember feeling sadness and grief for my mom.

Speaker 1: 14:45

This particular memory, as a six or seven-year-old, stands out as being one of the most vulnerable and positive experiences I can remember with her. Any opportunity I could be with my father was joy for me, though his alcoholism was advancing, his sober state or not, did not affect my desire to just be with him. I looked up to my dad in ways that all children look up to their fathers, regardless of their home life. One of my fondest memories is when he was teaching me martial arts in the backyard to defend myself against bullies and he inadvertently broke my arm. I knew it was an accident, and the mere fact it occurred during a session of rare quality time cemented it in my mind as one of my favorite memories. Again, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my father loved my brother, sister and I. He wanted more than anything else to provide and protect us from all the bad things, despite his limitations.

Speaker 1: 15:43

That leads me to the next portion. I want to warn listeners that might be triggered that I will be discussing sensitive matters in this next piece. This is my story, though, and I cannot shy away from the darkest parts. The first time I remember being sexually abused I must have been five or six years old. My mother would constantly be looking for childcare for my siblings and I growing up, whether it be for the daytime when she was working, or the evenings when she was partying, or even overnight times. I have memories of different babysitters. There were kind babysitters like the old man, bob, who was in the apartment complex when I was very young. I can recall being in his home and actually scavenging, while we were supposed to be sleeping, for food. Bob was very kind. He was one of the few babysitters that I remember fondly, but this was rarely the case.

Speaker 1: 16:39

As you will hear, my first experience was with a different daytime sitter, who was a man. I do not recall his name. I just remember him as being the first one to try to go down my pants, the first one to make me touch him, and he made me put jelly on his genitals and lick him off. I didn't understand what was happening, in large part due to my age and also to the fact I had nothing to compare it to. I remember the feeling of wanting to run so far away. I know I was really young, but I wasn't that young to experience and understand and actually feel what shame was.

Speaker 1: 17:17

My next memory of sexual abuse? I was a little bit older and what I remember is this woman, a blanket, her going down my pants, and what I remember is this woman a blanket, her going down my pants and then making me touch her. Then she began making me get on top of her and tried to make me insert my genitals into her. I resisted. I threw off the blanket, to which I recall her becoming angry at my resistance, and this time she, who was much larger than I, was attempted to mount me. She covered us again with the blanket and resumed her plan to have sex with me. I remember laying there with my eyes clenched tightly. I had to have been all of six to seven years old. This was my first experience being raped. I felt shame and disgust. This was also the first time in my life that I would remember dissociating after the first few times it occurred. This experience would also be the first time that a threat would be issued to me from my abuser. She threatened to tell my mother that I had actually initiated the sexual acts with her. So my heavy shame, compounded with fear, sealed the fact that I could not tell anyone of what happened to me. This also reassured my female abuser that she had easy prey for the next few times my mother needed a babysitter.

Speaker 1: 18:34

There were other instances. My mind would black out for me until I was older. This became one of my primary coping mechanisms. I'd learn later in life to actually black out or literally dissociate the most traumatic memories I held. I will discuss this protective mechanism in more detail at a later time, as well as the childhood memories that my limbic system repressed. But this next memory was one that I had, for some reason, did not black out and, unfortunately, stuck with me ever since its occurrence. For some reason did not black out and, unfortunately, stuck with me ever since its occurrence. There were times that my mother would tell me that I almost missed the coat hanger. I did not understand for the longest time what she was talking about until she forced me to watch both the miscarrying of the baby that she had inside of her and then, eventually, the actual self-abortions that she committed upon herself and she forced me to watch. My mother would demand that I clean up the toilet, and I have had flashbacks ever since of being on my hands and knees doing as I was told. Much later I understood the connection between me missing the coat hanger and the siblings that I have in heaven today that were not as fortunate. I think of them often today and wonder what life would have been like had they been brought into the world. Now, as you're listening, you might be wondering about my school life.

Speaker 1: 19:59

My early education was not only my escape, but eventually became the vehicle in which I found refuge for my traumatic upbringing. My earliest escape was in the form of books. My grandmother, who was a school teacher, had a hand in helping me to learn to read at a younger than what was typical age. Reading became a luxury as it served as entertainment, escape and enlightenment in a world so darkened by pain. I remember bringing the dictionary home from the library and attempting to read it cover to cover. I was also a fan of Alfred Hitchcock, the Choose your Own Adventure series and even Stephen King. As a student in school, I recalled a love for learning and an even deeper desire in the processes of how to achieve the outcomes found in learning.

Speaker 1: 20:48

School came easy for me within the aspects of what was academic. At the same time, the classroom issued significant challenges for me as it pertained to age-appropriate behavior. I would have a whole slew of bullies due to the state of both my size, which was very petite, and my dirty and unstylish dress. I remember my first fight, which resulted in me scissor kicking two boys in the private area which I was the one to get in trouble. My father was proud of my ability to defend myself, whereas my mother was very unhappy with the behavioral referral in the process. I would often come home with these behavioral referrals from having the inability just to control my energy. The consequences at home with such a referral were as drastic as you can possibly imagine. I became rather acclimated with the principal and their office on a regular basis, though it wasn't all negative. There was an attempted enrollment for me into what was called the TAG program or the Talented and Gifted for Students of Higher Learning. The problem was is that my behavioral difficulties made it almost impossible to remain within a program.

Speaker 1: 21:58

School was a place of learning for me, but really it was also a place to escape and eat real food and not to be confined to my bedroom. At one of my schools I believe it was called Highland Hills the classrooms all had outside entrances, so at recess before lunch, kids who brought a lunch from home would line up their lunch boxes outside the classroom until it was time to eat. All I could think was that this was a prime opportunity to feed myself. There was some time that went by before they figured out the caper of the missing lunches and another prized behavioral referral would come home with me. I remember my mom would use the punishment of school attendance as a consequence against me for choices I made that were detrimental in her eyes. Also, I found a pattern that if I received a particular horrific beating as a consequence that may result in bruises or scratches or any other telling mark, I may miss school a couple days as a result. My absences did pile up each year. Throughout these many years. Several reports of abuse had been filed with the Children's Services Division by some family members, school teachers and other unspecified adults. They'd apparently been establishing a file for some time with the social services.

Speaker 1: 23:17

I did not know what prompted my visit to the principal's office of Rocky Heights Elementary School that fateful day in 1989. Given the fact I was accustomed to recurring visits to the office, I just presumed it was for me being taken in for reported misbehavior. I was taken into a side office where I was introduced to the woman who I have come to regard as the person who both changed and possibly saved my life. She had asked me a lot of questions about my home life, about going to school. I had some internal thought process that I ought to be careful of what I say out of fear of punishment from home.

Speaker 1: 23:55

But before she left, I felt compelled to share the most recent acts of sexual abuse that had occurred with my mother's boyfriend. He had forced me a couple of times to wear my mother's underwear, where he proceeded to molest me. I was nine years old at this point and I was beginning to feel like I can protect myself, and so I got up and ran. He threatened me to not say a word to my mother, which I already feared. He then bribed me with food, treats and even the ability to skip nap time. Yeah, I was required to take naps till the day I left, and he allowed me to watch TV. On one of the next times I saw him, I would tell my father about the incident. He was furious and confronted my mother about the allegations. She did not believe me. I cannot remember the punishment that took place from Jeff and her.

Speaker 1: 24:47

At this point in my life. That was indicative of a deeper and more rooted problem that had been forming within me, and it was this very incident that I felt compelled to share with the woman who had come from child services division with a lot of questions. This marked the last day I would live in my biological home Toni Morgan was the name of my first caseworker and she abruptly removed me into what would be the first of many foster homes. Given the fact I was removed from my biological home at nine years old, one can deduce that my childhood is broken into two distinctive sections the biological home and the foster home. The next nine years of my life would be a gauntlet of enduring 26 foster homes, group homes, institutions, as well as multiple kinds of behavioral therapy that diagnosed me with a few theoretical reasons for my challenges.

Speaker 1: 25:39

Coming out of my biological home, my first few homes felt like a world to me, as I was in them on a temporary basis. My first foster home was with a Hispanic family in Hermiston, oregon, and I was there on a proctor basis. That is, temporary, until a more permanent home could become available. I was placed with my grandparents, the same ones I have referenced earlier in my story. This felt like my home away from home and I know they did whatever they could for me, given the lack of support and resources available from the state of Oregon, to meet the extraordinary needs that I imposed on them. I was with them less than a year, and then I would eventually move to my aunt and uncle's home in Hermiston where they had five sons of their own living cozily in a double-wide trailer they live in to this day. The fact they were family my father's brother that is endeared me to them and I know they too had done all they can to make me feel part of their family. My cousins were like my brothers. My age placed me second in the birth order of them all and I connected well in between my oldest cousin and the one who was directly under me in age. They had a pretty large property that enabled us to play sports together, hide and go, seek and any other childhood games we could squeeze entertainment out of. I remember the oldest kids moving into an outside shed that was transformed into an alternative bedroom.

Speaker 1: 26:57

The other noteworthy event during my placement with my Uncle Craig and Aunt Cheryl was the fact that I could on occasion see my father though there had been restrictions placed from the Children's Services Division as well as see my brother and sister when they were allowed to visit. You see, upon my removal from my bio home, my siblings were left with my mother and her boyfriend, who had abused me. The reason given in years later was they were left in the home due to the fact that my mother would agree to remove the predator that she lived with. She did not adhere to the terms given to her. While living with my aunt and uncle, my brother and sister came over for a visit. My sister, only four years old at the time, asked to talk to me and explain how the same predator that inflicted abuse upon me had proceeded to rape her. I remember vividly feeling anger, sadness and the sense of need to protect her, the strong, overwhelming feeling of justice. And this was turned into a report to Children's Services Division. My siblings were removed from the home and placed in a foster home of their own.

Speaker 1: 27:59

My time with my family came to an abrupt end due to similar reasons that resulted in my removal from my grandparents. I know my Uncle Craig and Aunt Cheryl desired to provide a safe and loving home for me and even my siblings, yet were not given the resources that could support us. Again, I was placed in my next home. The truth is, my memory of the first five or six homes, or even more, is actually spotty, to a point that even confused me for many years. Much the same way my childhood was, yet I do recall struggling with severe depression and sadness as I was shuffled home to home.

Speaker 1: 28:30

As I started feeling more alone as a kid, I would receive letters and cards on rare occasion from my mother, committing to do whatever it took to bring me and my siblings home. I missed her, my father too, who both I could only have supervised visits on rare occasions, as well as with my siblings' home. I missed her, my father too, who both I could only have supervised visits on rare occasions, as well as with my siblings. I missed home. As time went along, the cards and letters became more infrequent, and I later learned that the state had withheld some of them getting to me, as well as some of the foster parents charged with caring for me. Every visit I had with my family led to a change in my demeanor, where I would be triggered to act out in great opposition and disobedience, to the point where the visits became less than they already were.

Speaker 1: 29:10

At one point I remember feeling so desperate I decided in the home I was placed in at 10 years old that I would take my life. I ran down the hill from the foster home I was in of this caring single foster mother toward the bridge over the Umatilla River that was in Pendleton, oregon. I got as far as getting upon the railing before a therapist who had chased after me pulled me back to safety. This resulted in my placement into Providence Medical Center in Portland, where I was confined to the Children's Psychiatric Ward dealing with suicidal ideation and what was termed as oppositional defiant disorder, commonly known as ODD, and psychiatrists began diagnosing me with other issues found in DSM-IV. At that point I would go to another home, assigned outpatient treatment and recall struggling with visual and auditory hallucinations. I was literally feeling out of control and capable of controlling my feelings, which would lead to further behavioral issues, and I was ultimately decided I would be committed to the Oregon State Hospital in Salem on the Children's Psychiatric Ward.

Speaker 1: 30:11

I was in this institutional setting for almost a year where I rarely was allowed outside and I was surrounded by other kids who struggled with a wide array of psychiatric issues ray of psychiatric issues. I would learn early on that my suicidal issues and troubled behavior would also be marked with a high intelligence and I would inappropriately cause chaos on the war of the hospital I was in. I was literally Jack Nicholson's character in the old movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, which, coincidentally, had been filmed in the very institution that I was in. I would learn firsthand what it was like to be restrained by multiple adults, the sound of rolling wheels of the restraint bed that I would be strapped to, and I became familiar with being administered a shot of medicine that would knock me out until I came to in a seclusionary room that was locked. I eventually came to a place where I was considered stable enough to be released to outpatient therapy and I found my way back to Eastern Oregon in a tiny community in Cove.

Speaker 1: 31:08

My foster parents were your typical gun-toting, hound-dog-owning hunters who had two boys, one a year older than me and another in high school. I would go out for my first sports teams, for baseball and football. I would have outpatient therapy to a place called Grand Ron Child Center to assist in my counseling. This family again did everything in their power to maintain a safe home for me, and my inability to integrate into the family led to my removal. I would be placed in the inpatient therapy with Grand Ron Child Center where eventually I would be moved again.

Speaker 1: 31:40

The next few homes saw me shuffling between proctor homes, temporary placements all over Eastern Oregon in hopes that eventually I would be placed in my permanent home. I even stayed for a period of time with another aunt, my father's half-sister and her then-husband, where I again felt at home because I was around family. We lived in Union Oregon and it was there that I had been reintegrated in public school and I was put in situations where I was bullied for being the new kid who was undersized and apparently a bit odd. Again, I proved more than capable of being supported and I recall moving to another place in Pendleton called Homestead Youth Lodge, which was technically a home for adolescents who committed crimes. All the boys, with the exception of myself, were on their way to a more secure jail-like environment like McLaren Home for Boys, or. Having just come out of there, I eventually found my way to a home which became one of my favorite placements, which was considered a Homestead Youth Lodge Proctor Home. This family the wife who I would reconnect with as an adult actually consisted of just the couple who served as my foster parents. They were younger than any family I had ever stayed with. They had a sweet dog I bonded with. By all accounts, this stay was my most natural. The state had found a placement for me in Central Oregon at a boy's home and, despite my then foster mother protesting my move and even considering to take me permanently, I was moved yet again. At this point I was getting to high school age.

Speaker 1: 33:07

The group home was part of a larger treatment center called Kirkland Institute for Child and Family Study and was led by a state-renowned psychologist and her husband. They lived as caretakers of one of the boys' group homes during the evenings and worked at the outpatient center rendering services during the day. Directly next door in Burns, oregon, they had an additional group home serviced by a full-time treatment staff and residential counselors, chores, a treatment program and a school that served all ages in one single classroom at the Kirkland Institute for Child and Family Study building at the other site. I learned early on from other boys in the program the ins and outs of the system, including behaviors that were commonplace in the home. One such thing was the rampant sexual abuse and acts that took place among boys due to the severe need of love and affection that was deeply embedded within them but was improperly satisfied during these acts. I would eventually be caught up in these activities, which was discovered by the program directors and naturally met with severe consequences.

Speaker 1: 34:18

The facts of the program, though that rarely, if if ever, were kids actually removed, as this seemed as a last place option for most kids, and I learned that the placement of kids from the group home was rare due to the lack of available homes statewide. Kids would go back to their biological home on completion of the program if this was tenable. Yet I was one of the few kids in the program which had few to no options. I stayed in the group home for two years until I was 14, and I remember during this time having my favorite therapist, who was young and empathetic. She eventually had to hand my case off, though, due to the fact that we had become overly attached. This was an official statement that she had come to care for me and my story more than was deemed ethically appropriate, that she'd come to care for me and my story more than was deemed ethically appropriate.

Speaker 1: 35:07

I seemed to be able to attach as such to many of the homes I was in, with therapists, foster parents alike, over-promising and declaring I was their favorite to have worked with, cared for, and even as far as this was the last home I'd ever be in. Far too often, though my issues provoked and proved to be overwhelming, and so these over-promises resulted in under-delivery. I was diagnosed with attachment disorders, speculation of bipolar or even the possibility of the onset of schizophrenia myself, given the facts that my mother had since been diagnosed, at this point I had no contact with my mother or father. My last contact I ever had with my father was a snuck visit years prior, who had given a skateboard to me as a birthday gift. This had been immediately confiscated on my return to the home I had been in. I never saw this sentimental gift again.

Speaker 1: 35:53

My siblings, having shuffled several times through homes in their own right, were eventually placed in Kirkland as well. My sister was the only girl in an all-boys program which, looking back, was peculiar and possibly even inappropriate. However, I was pleased to be able to have them with me again and I was eager to protect them in this new environment, even if their presence triggered the attachment pain we all had, as much as it served as a familiar consoling to all of us. We had a chaotic relationship at this point and I would come across trouble trying to deal with my own issues yet trying to protect them as well. My sister bonded and was carefully guarded by the husband of the psychologist and she stayed in their group home in her own room. Eventually, the psychologist and her husband purchased their own large property in John Day, oregon, where they brought my brother and sister with them and decided to take them in on a permanent basis. Their hope and goal was to also take me with them and we were to become one family. I bonded and attached again with a psychologist at this point and she began referring to me as like her own son more than her patient.

Speaker 1: 36:56

I eventually graduated from the group home, if you will, and altogether we lived at this home with a large mountainside property, huge barn and pasture and the most magnificent house I'd ever lived in. Was I now home? Was this? Finally it? Such was the goal, albeit our now foster parents hadn't had kids of their own and they ran the home like the group home we had come out of poem we had come out of. Now our home life was secure, with all of our needs met. Yet the symptoms of the chaotic relationship amongst us siblings that bore effects of trauma from our biological home still impeded us To add to this effect.

Speaker 1: 37:31

The foster parents had difficulty implementing institutional type regulations and care, yet also trying to simply be our parents. They had a home office considered primarily off limitslimits to us kids, and it was in this case I came across my entire case file to date. I inadvertently read through its entirety and the diagnosis I was believed to have, but one sentence stood out to me I was considered the most broken and severe abuse case that had been encountered to this point, and it led to me being one of the implacable kids in the state of Oregon. I was here because I was broken, unwanted. This is what I heard. This loud, dark voice was constantly in my mind. Yet I still aspire to persevere and to care and bond deeply with the parents. My foster mom sought to bring out my gifts for the first time At this point. I had my IQ tested and was deemed to be on the genius spectrum, and she, a very proud liberal, democratic psychologist who also held law degrees and had graduated both high school and college as a teenager, found me as one that she could mentor. Current events, news court, tv, the newly minted History Channel, philosophy all became tenants of our conversation. I had this deep desire to eventually be an officer in the military and we began seeking military academies for me to be a part of.

Speaker 1: 38:55

I held many fond memories of this placement, my forever home, of exploring the strawberry wilderness on the 50 acres of their home, playing in the large pasture placement. My forever home of exploring the strawberry wilderness on the 50 acres of their home, playing in the large pasture, getting my first dog, having extravagant movie nights at the most lavishing treats, and I was with my siblings. I just was still unfulfilled, though, battling hopelessness and depression. I still felt unworthy. I hadn't seen my mother for so long and then the news of my father came down. I still recall the night I was sat down. The body of my father was found floating in the Columbia River. He'd been so decomposed that he only became identifiable by the tattoo on his arm by one of my aunts. I wouldn't find out until years later that apparently he had a hit on him and a supposed friend of some family had apparently fulfilled this hit on his life. I recall feeling shocked and numb. This became a sticking point that affected this whole placement I was in Not long after I made another significant attempt on my life by consuming two whole bottles of unlocked psychotropic medications I had found in my foster parents' home.

Speaker 1: 40:10

After I swallowed the multiple pills. I ran up the side of the mountain in late afternoon and I climbed a tree. I was ready and wanting to die. I remember falling asleep in the tree until dark, waking disoriented due to my circumstances. However, I made out the red and blue flashing lights down the mountainside that had made their way to our rural house. I expected officers to be looking for me, as I was in a heavily forested area where nighttime predators like bears and often-sighted cougars were rampant. The officers never came up and, much to my dismay, I had failed again to even take my own life. I made my way down a large mountainside with only a distant house slide at the bottom of the mountain to guide me along cliff tops and burly terrain. I remember going back into my home, to my foster dad waiting up.

Speaker 1: 40:59

At this point I asked to leave the home, though I had started high school, found my first girlfriend and lost her, gone out for track and was ready to go out for football. My sophomore year and I had possibly the most settled home to this point, I couldn't do it any longer. I struggled with the notion of abandoning my siblings again, of leaving them behind once more, but my days were numbered in John Day. After almost two years. My sixth out of six caseworkers during my tenure took my case around this time and found a new placement back in Northeastern Oregon, this time in the tiny community called Adams, directly in between Pendleton and Athena. My dog, cody, came along with me, a black lab mix I was intimately bonded to. The home initially seemed like a nice place, though I held reservations due to my nomadic switches in my life to this point.

Speaker 1: 41:56

I came in the summertime between my sophomore and junior years and was registered at the closest high school in Athena called Wesson McEwen. I heard they had an outstanding football team and that football and sports were huge in the community. I had ran fast times in track at my last high school, becoming the only freshman and then sophomore to be a part of the relay races. Athletics at this point had become a big part of my value and identity and rumors were spread in the small town I had just come to that this superstar runner had come to town.

Speaker 1: 42:26

I initially wanted to go out for football in the fall, as I had in John Day, until one fateful day I received a call from a couple girls who identified themselves as cross-country runners on the West McEwen team. They invited me to the back-to-school dance that was being sponsored by the cross-country team. I reluctantly agreed, as though I had made a few friends locally. I was the new kid in this tight-knit community. I showed up to the dance dressed as nice as I could and I met the girls who invited me. They told me they heard I was fast and then introduced me to the best runner on the team, who was the cross-country coach's daughter. My initial thoughts was this may not be a terrible idea. I wanted to go out for the state powerhouse football team and vie for a position, but there are no girls on that team. I met the coach, whose very first words were nice to meet you, then called me to the side and alerted me that my jean zipper was down. Those were the first words between a coach and athlete, a mentor and mentee and a fatherly figure to more or less an orphan boy.

Speaker 1: 43:30

Following the dance, I committed to coming out for cross country against my first desires. I learned in my very first race that year, when I used my track speed to burn out at the beginning, that Coach Monaco possessed an incredibly loud voice that I would always hear screaming at me, and I learned what it meant to pace myself. Let's just say I was first place around the half mile and then the mile, but finished the race 42nd out of 100 runners on a 100-degree day in distant Vail, oregon. This was an all-star kind of cross-country race with teams from all over the country, and I just demonstrated to my teammates, my coach and all my supporters how not to run a 3.2-mile race. Yet a new challenge, a new love and new relationships had been extended that would eventually alter the course of my life. And new relationships had been extended that would eventually alter the course of my life.

Speaker 1: 44:22

At my foster home in Adams, things had become turbulent once again. You see, at this point I had identified a difficult ability to bond with foster moms in particular, in large part due to the mother wounds I bore underneath. It had been six or so years since I even heard from my mother or any of her empty promises to get us back. The issues in my current home had begun to escalate and eventually I was falsely accused of physically abusing by picking my foster mom up and putting her out of the way. The police were called and I ran away the minute they came on the property.

Speaker 1: 45:02

I used all the speed and endurance I had gained during the cross-country season and I ran to hide in a hay bar I was aware of in town, leaving the pursuant officers in my desk who attempted to apprehend me. I eventually went to a friend's house I had made in town and Jake and his mother agreed to take me in for the night. They had been contacted to inquire if I was with them and they protectively deceived the officers. But the next day I felt convicted and realized I could not remain on the run. So I contacted my caseworker who picked me up. She informed me there was no place for me to go except one I had been at before Homestead Youth Lodge, where kids with criminal convictions resided. I remember the dread and hopelessness I felt, feeling as though I had thrown away my athletic future, friendships, my mentorship with my coach, who was speaking life and love to me, and a whole community.

Speaker 1: 45:58

At Homestead Youth Lodge I began experiencing blackouts, blackouts so severe I came to one time with blood all over me underneath the pool table in the main hall. I looked around and the first person I saw was a staff member I had remembered from my last stay in the program. I had bonded with the large man who was as quiet as you can imagine. He was stern yet fair. Oh, and did I mention he was completely bald. So he was an intimidating figure but seemed to show love and affection in appropriate ways to me. He showed me he cared about my unique situation in this place.

Speaker 1: 46:36

Having not committed a crime yet, I had nowhere to go. As I lay there looking at him, he informed me that I had blacked out and tried to dive through a window. As to escape, I was all sliced up from the event and I was taken to the local hospital. I would later be sent to a facility for testing in Boise, idaho, where I would be diagnosed with the most severe post-traumatic stress disorder that had clinically been seen in adolescents. The dissociation I was experiencing was apparently an extreme form of my severe post-traumatic stress disorder. More medication was prescribed, a treatment plan established and I was back to Homestead Ufology. I would be there a couple months and then something extraordinary happened.

Speaker 1: 47:20

Beyond just the staff member I had reacquainted with, I had also bonded with my therapist. She would actually eventually date, then marry the large and quiet bald gentleman, interestingly enough, and then one other staff member of note, against probably his best judgment. This other staff member informed me that he was the brother of one of the girls who I had run cross-country with in my high school. He had gone home and again, not the recommended ethical guidelines but just wait. And he even informed his family that I was in Homestead Youth Lodge without a place to go.

Speaker 1: 47:55

This family, the mother and father and the two remaining daughters they had in the home, the mother and father and the two remaining daughters they had in the home prayed about it and felt compelled to invite me to come live with them and finish out my high school career to stay with my team, my community, etc. They visited me at homestead along with my coach, his wife, who I'd grown to love and trust to present this opportunity to me. They granted me with my trophies and awards I missed out on from the end of season banquet. You earned this, jason. My coach let me know with peers To this whole community. I was there one day and just gone tomorrow, with no explanation. And then I was offered to stay with my teammates' family who welcomed me to come live with them. They'd been approved as first-time foster parents just for me, and there were conditions you must come to church and you must adhere to our family rules. I couldn't explain this providence that had now come into my life.

Speaker 1: 48:56

Now, I had been exposed to God earlier in my life with my aunt, who was religious, and then learned of a variety of religion and denominations from the various 25 placements I had lived in. I was still always skeptical, though. Even when there were incredible miracles, I'd experienced up to this point. I had literally seen his hand moving providentially and sovereignly in my life, but I did not have a relationship. And sovereignly in my life, but I did not have a relationship. And now you're telling me that all I have to do to return to the community was sit in church. This would be the last final home I would reside in until I turned 18 and was deemed an adult.

Speaker 1: 49:45

I still was a broken and wounded boy, and I still battled with my foster mom, even though she just wanted to love and parent me as she had her own family. However, my explosive incidents were now rare and far between. There was stability as close as I had ever had it before. Within months, I went on my first airplane, traveled on a Spanish trip to Mexico, I had my first love. I pursued a track and cross-country scholarship to help me in school since I was a foster kid. Now I certainly didn't live up to my full academic potential, since I only graduated with 3.2, but I learned to love writing. I found community amongst a couple of close friends and then I established a relationship with the local pastor and his family. Amongst a couple of close friends, and then I established a relationship with the local pastor and his family. He understood trauma. He had lived it himself and learned early on that I had been over-institutionalized, over-diagnosed and under-loved for the person I was. I agreed to one-on-one therapy with him and for the first time I felt I had a real comprehensive relationship with the counselor, who loved me, for me, and he helped introduce me to God and committed himself as my family forever.

Speaker 1: 50:50

After a few months of my junior year, my foster dad invited me onto a trip to Washington DC. He said we'd visit various sites, including Camden Yards Now I was a devoted Seattle Mariners fan and had never been to a stadium before, and there were other tourist activities. Oh, by the way, we would be attending a gathering of men from around the country called the Promise Keepers Stand in the Gap Assembly, and I would obviously be required to attend. Of course, I jumped at it A one-time religious event to justify the entire experience of our trip. What I didn't know, though I not only would have an incredible time on the trip, with all the sightseeing and the wonders of our capital, but it was at this assembly that was estimated and coined the Million man Gathering, which not only stretched the entire length of Washington Mall with big screens, the whole way, that I would hear incredible speakers and meet the new love of my life.

Speaker 1: 51:51

I chose for the first time as a new adult, on that fateful day of October 27, 1997, as a 17-year-old, to receive Jesus into my life, to repent of all the sin and death and pain that I had caused other people and against God himself. I've only had one other experience amongst my several during my walk that compared to the bliss, the grace, the mercy, the truth and the gentle warmth I found that day. Now I wouldn't know how or even choose to follow Jesus closely until a few years later, but I had begun this relationship. My whole life to this point had begun taking a new shape From broken to becoming, from wounded to healing, from lost to found, from orphaned to fathered by the Most High. I was forever changed.

Speaker 1: 52:48

When I graduated high school. I walked onto a track and cross-country team at Southern Oregon University who offered a little help with my books and tuition through a scholarship to attend. I was the first person in my family to go to college. I was a new creation. I was redeemed. My past was behind me, my purpose in front of me and I was excited to be free of the confines being a ward of the court in the state of Oregon. I was bound to, I was free and for the first time, I could see redemption.

Speaker 1: 53:23

I went off to school with this optimism, this freedom, a new hope for my future. However, was everything I thought I left behind actually going to stay in the past? Was I ready to tackle the big, wide world ahead of me as an emerging adult? The big, wide world ahead of me as an emerging adult? Next time, on the Hopeful Perspective podcast, I will tackle the rest of my story and how it affected me and impacted me as a young adult. In the meantime, I want to thank you for being with me and I would love for you to like, subscribe, review and share this podcast with anyone you know who could use the hopeful perspective. So until next time, I have been Jason Hopkins and I want to remind everybody listening to remember that you are loved.