When I was younger I lived with my parents. To hear people tell it, life was pretty good when I was toddling around in diapers. My parents were thrilled to have a health baby girl. Well when I was about four or five I guess Is when things started to go down hill. From what I remember and from what iv been told by other people; my dad had an affair with an other women or something like that, I don't know. What I do know though is that he left us. and after that my life became a living hell. You see my mom had a rough time with his leaving, and to say that she had a rough time is an understatement. She started drinking and got really heavy into drugs. Now when I say Heavy into drugs, I'm not talking like she was a stoner and smoked a lot of pot or something. I'm talking like she was shooting up meth, then heroine, and before all that she was even doing cocaine. Now if you don't know a whole lot about these drugs, allow me to enlighten you.
Ok, so meth you see destroys the brains pleasure center, for example; have you ever played sports? Say baseball? Ok, so picture this; your standing at the plate and the pitcher pitches to you, the bases are loaded and you just hit a grand slam. You know the adrenaline rush that comes with doing something like that? Well you do meth for long enough and then to do more meth will be the only way you will be able to feel that way again. So now on to heroine. Heroine makes you almost zombie like. then withdraws are a regular bitch, you end up having to do more and more just to not be sick all the time. Then cocaine is a whole 'nother world of crazy in its self
Any way so after my dad left it was pretty hard, I mean obviously we never had any money because my mom blew it all on her bad habits. I remember now how in elementary school kids would make fun of me for not have that most "in" cloths or designer backpacks. Somewhere in between elementary and middle school my mom got violent, that's when she really started drinking; and let me tell you, her regular potpourri of drugs and alcohol did not mix very well. so I started showing up to school with bruises... the thing is no one ever said anything, like arn't teachers suppose to be trained to notice stuff like that? For a while my mom acted like it was my fault that dad left, its like she took all of her frustrations out on me.
