Sunday, March 5, 2017

Anger, Addiction, Broken

I didn't like my upbringing.

That's a gross understatement. I loathed my upbringing.

I struggled with dealing with things that were beyond my control.
Over, and over my siblings and I bore the brunt of the wrath of a tyrant.
I changed from an overly sensitive child to an almost emotionless early teen. I learned that emotions will only lead to more trauma, so less was good, but none was even better!

All those pent up and stuffed down emotions just turned into pure hate and anger.
I then turned to malicious behavior and continually made really, really bad choices.

In middle school I earned the nickname "Sherman Tank" because I didn't care about anyone, or anything around me. I became combative. I got into a lot of fights at home, at school, at church, in the park, at the mall, anywhere, everywhere. Anything from pushing and shoving to fist fights with my siblings, with my friends and with girls or boys I didn't even know! I didn't care. When fists flew and I got hit back, it just didn't phase me. I already knew I can take a hit. See? Tough as nails, just like a Sherman Tank!

There's more...

I had my first cigarette at age 10. My first sampling of marijuana shortly after that. Then I drank for the first time at age 13. Downed almost a whole bottle of blackberry brandy all by myself! Oh man, was that delicious!
Ohhhh! I had found my escape! Why should I suffer all this with no outlet?

What followed was seemingly endless bouts of drinking, smoking & pill popping induced passing of time. It didn't matter where I was either. At school, at home, anything, anywhere, anytime I could get my dirty little mitts on something, I was all in!

Ooo, especially at parties! Sometimes at other people's houses, but by the time I was in high school, I was hosting huge rave parties at my house! So many kids I didn't even know would show up with booze and drugs of all sorts. We would have a bonfire in the back yard, and loud music in the house. Ahhh...drunk, stoned & stupid!

My siblings and I were called latchkey kids. Parents were ALWAYS away at work, leaving us kids to fend for ourselves. It's NEVER a good idea to leave a bunch of teenagers alone for any length of time! Left up to our own devises, we always came up with the WORST ideas!

How could all of this possibly end?

My future was very clear:
Homeless, addict, laying in the gutter, dead via overdose. I NEVER thought I would live to see age 30.
Quite frankly, I hoped I didn't.
Life sucked, and I wanted out!

I was angry, strung out, and with violent tendencies. All in all, just broken.



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