Hannah did everything the decrepit society around her told her to do… screw men 11 years older than her, get HIV, get knocked up, get placed into the foster/mental care system, and finally rob a bank. What happened to drive this seemingly simple Nebraska girl over the edge? Police found her after she posted videos fanning the cash on youtube – for many of these people life is a video game an online reality where whats on facebook and youtube is more real than the consequences of their actions
Ten Things About Me…
Written on August 18th, 2010
1. I am a Senior in high school.
2. I have HIV.
3. I have been diagnosed with “major depression.”
4. I am currently on a monitoring device (located on my ankle) for running away.
5. I’ve been through severe behavior treatment centers, such as Boys Town.
6. My boyfriend is 11 years older than me.
7. I am a highly philisophical person.
8. I want to be a lawyer some day.
9. I am an amazing artist.
10. I have a weird obsession with LSD and hallucinations…
I Am Independent…
Written on February 13th, 2011
I have had a tough life and have been put down many times. I’ve been to Boys Town and locked up a good share of times and a lot of people I knew there have just given up on life and have dropped out. The guards and staff at jail encouraged me to get a GED, but I refused because I knew I was going to graduate, not settle. Now I’m getting A’s in school AND taking college classes. I am going to be a lawyer and a politician.
When I was in Boys Town, I ran away because I was being mistreated. I had to walk the streets of Omaha in January to find a place to stay. I can make my own money and make my own living to support myself. I’m ambitious and nothing stops me from accomplishing my dreams.
I have proven I can make it on my own and I will keep succeeding.
My Unborn Baby
Written on February 15th, 2011
My Unborn Baby!!!
scrawled by Hannah Sabata on t’ date o’ Tew’s Day, Februarrry 15, 2011 roundabouts 8:28 in the evenin’
let me start out by saying the shift and delete button aren’t working properly so i apologize about the misspellings and bad grammar ;9 i can’t go back lol
but i love my baby sooo much….i know i’ve been posting a whole bunch about my baby but i’m so excited.
i was so sure the baby was dead because i had excrutiating cramping and a little bit of bleeding a couple days ago.
i got expecially scared when they couldn’t hear the baby’s heartbeat on the doppler today. they had to take me to the hospital and do an ultrasound on me. well, i was crying. crying hard. bawling….
i didn’t want to look at my unborn baby on the screen when the o.b. lady put the magical baby looker-atter on my belly. i thought it would be floating around, dead.
but nope 1exclaimation point1, the baby was big and moving around 1exclaimation point1. by the way, i am 12 weeks along right now. it did a summer-salt and my mother gasped. it would not stop moving around, literally. it has a beautiful face, i saw it. it has a big forhead, lol and a small chin. i saw its brain, too! hey, my shift button worked for once! twice1 1.
i don’t know why but i already love this thing. how can you love something you don’t know/question mark/ and i realized i’ve never loved anything so much in my life before. all the pain and sickness i have is so worth this baby. i even catch myself singing to it. and if you know me, you know i never sing in front of anyone. …. ever…. this love is very weird. its overwhelming. i feel sooo happy. the love is so strong, i can see, smell it, feel it, taste it. i can’t hear it though, lol ;winky face; i’m usually so depressed cuz my life sucks so bad, don’t disagree because if you lived what i lived through, i guarantee you’d be traumatized; but anyway, i actually skipped down the road when i sent my letter to my husband in jail! skipped! and i only looked down at the ground a couple times to make sure there was no ice i’d slip on.
i am so lucky to have a loving husband that will literally do anything for me and who practically worships the ground i walk on—i don’t know why, i’m not that great, lol—in all caps and have a healthy baby on the way. i need to think about those two good things in my life more often and maybe my head will lift once in a while.
february 15th 2011 12 weeks, 3 days. hannah smotherman-sabata
I Got Hiv At 17
Written on February 18th, 2011
Last year, actually.
Last year, I also first lost my virginity. I got HIV from being ignorant and selfish. I just thought this carnival worker was cute and he thought i was cute and it turned out he had HIV. He called me a few months later and told me. I knew I had it. I got tested twice positive and now I am supposed to be taking these enormous pills but I CAN’T take them. I really am unable to. So I recently ordered some liquids. I don’t really want liquids, either, though. I want a port, and for some reason they don’t want to give it to me.
I’m also afraid the medications they give me have worse side effects than they do help. Liver damage? May lower your CD4 count? WTF? That’s like depression medication. “May cause suicidal thoughts.”
Anyway, I don’t want to die painfully. I want to die calm in my sleep beside my husband. I hope I die of old age before I die of AIDS.
The Beginning Of The Worst Time In My Life
Written on March 3rd, 2011
When I was fifteen years old, I could be considered…to be in the very weird/crazy stage. I had a multicolored mohawk and always wore mismatched knee-high socks. I tried out so many different things, so many different types of music. One especially intrigued me. Nirvana. I saw Kurt Cobain and I “fell in love.” I guess you can say I wanted to be just like him. Unfortunately this obsession happened when I was also obsessed with horror movies and death.
So…I guess you can say, partly, that I attempted suicide because I wanted to be like Kurt. But that was only actually a small part. I have always had severe depression and I wasn’t taking any medication. I also recently turned agnostic-so my faith in a god was very small. I wanted to see what happened in the afterlife. Also fights with my friends and family didn’t help.
So, it all added up. I told my mother that I was depressed, and my mother loves taking me to mental hospitals for any reason she can get–she always has, and so she told me to “pack up my stuff” because she was taking me to the mental hospital!
That scared me. I have bad memories from the mental hospital. So that was the last straw of many, many straws and I took whatever pills I saw first. I saw Wellibutrin and Ibuprofen. I took the full, entire bottle of Wellibutrin (an anti-depressant) and about seven pills of Ibuprofen.
The mental hospital was about an hour and a half away from where I lived, so I thought for sure I’d be dead by the time I arrived there. Nope. The mental hospital was actually full at that location so they had to transport me to another mental hospital that was located another 3 hours away from there!! Keep in mind I never told anyone about the overdose I took yet–and I also had no symptoms from the overdose yet, even though it’s been about 4 hours since I had taken it. Ironically, they had to transport me by ambulence. It was just procedure–they were ignorant of my condition.
About an hour and a half into the drive to the other mental hospital, things started moving in slow motion. It was crazy cool I thought! By the way, I have never gotten high before during this time. But I was definately high. By the time we arrived at our destination, I was actually pretty scared of dying. Really? lol. I was. So I told the two ambulence men about my overdose that I took 6 hours ago. But it took me about six hours to say that!! It was extremely hard to talk. As I found out later, it was extremely difficult to move at all. So they transported me into another ambulence and took me to a medical hospital.
I was in there for 3 days and I hallucinated like I overdosed on ‘shrooms and acid. Like I was Alice in ******’ Wonderland. It all lasted three days. I couldn’t move, though, and unfortunately I remember everything. I remember having to be carried to the bathroom to pee and I needed help showering. I remember the nurse stabbing the IV in my wrist hastely, and I remember the water just leaking right out of my skin. They never gave me anything for my overdose. Not even charcoal. They were so rude to me too. They thought I was faking it for Pete’s sake! They wouldn’t allow me to watch T.V. or read. So I just slept. Luckily, I had my hallucinations to entertain me. Thank God I had a good tripp.
Anyway, after that, I was put into the mental hospital for 3 months, then put into a modern day adolescent insane asylum cleverly named an RTC for 7 months, which drove me mad because it was just like a prison and I’d hear screaming of my peers all the time, everyday–then they took me to Boys Town of which I had the chance to run away from and I did within a week of being there. Of course I got caught within those two terrible weeks of being free and got put into a detention center for a month which was actually substantially better than the RTC, then I was taken back to Boys Town—but put into a shelter. This lasted a month and a half. I convinced the staff and the state to take me home with my clever words and sly actions. I knew I deserved to go back home. I was put on a more stable medication and I’ve been home now for a full year and a few months. I am now eighteen. Anyway, I’m out of the state’s hair and I’m a good citizen. I’m also more emotionally stable, but still suffer depression once in a while. (actually, more often than once in a while, but that’s aside the point)
All of this happened because of an overdose. If I never overdose, I could’ve saved myself a lot of mental and physical injury, some of it permanent. There were a lot of things that happened during that year that I was away.
My advice is don’t overdose!! I wish I never have.