Staring Over

Chapter 2

I grew up like most kids my age with divorced parents. But unlike most kids, I never wanted my parents to get back together. I never even knew they were together most of my childhood, hell I think I was a teenager before I found out that they were even married in the first place. For as long as I can remember they couldn't even speak on the phone without yelling, so why would I want them back together if that was the only way they could talk?

Anyway, I grew up with a mother that chose drugs and men over her children. Most of my life I thought I was the oldest, but it wasn't until I was around 15 that I found out she gave up a child for adoption. I wasn't really sure how I felt about that, although I will admit I was a bit envious, strictly because that child got to get away from being told almost every day that she never wanted to be a parent, she thought children were gross, and the only reason she kept me was to spite my father and her father who offered to raise me. Imagine growing up being told almost every day that you were unwanted, and you couldn't be with the people that actually cared for you because your mother wanted to be petty and spiteful.

Growing up I was told that my parents split because my mother found a woman's number in his wallet, so I grew up hating a man I never even knew because he was never in my life. I grew up visiting his parents and grandparents but never him and I didn't understand why. I just thought he didn't want to be in my life. It wasn't until I was 16 that I found out the truth. My mother cheated on my father with his best friend while he was working three jobs to support him, her, me, my brother, and his best friend. He never cheated and at the same time he was battling his addiction to drugs and alcohol. His mother, my grandmother, wanted to wait until I was old enough to understand everything before she told me the truth. He wasn't in my life because he was in and out of rehab and because in the divorce agreement my mother put in the stipulation that he wasn't allowed around me because of his addictions, I could only see his family. Then she had the nerve to be mad at me because I forgave him, and I wouldn't forgive her.

Why would I forgive her if she kept doing drugs while he finally got clean and started doing something with his life? We never ended up having a father daughter relationship, I had bonded closer to my grandparents and great grandparents, his parents and grandparents, and he had a hard time accepting that. We formed a kind of friendship, but it would never be a typical father daughter relationship. He had multiple marriages where he put them before me and that just kept me closer to my grandparents and great-grandparents.

Oh well, it doesn't matter anymore, I walked away from all that toxicity and in doing so a lot of my stress went away as well. It didn't remove all of it, but it definitely made my life a little easier. Life did start to look a little brighter when I quit talking to my drugged-out mother, her family, and kept my distance from my father since he made it obvious that his wife and her family were more important than me.

But that's not the story you want to hear, you want to hear about how my life went from getting my dream come true to my heart and soul being ripped out of me, crushed before my eyes, and shattered to dust and how I'm learning to stand and rise above all this. Well, I guess to understand that I need to tell you how we first met. Grab your tea, hot chocolate, whatever, get your stuffy, comfort item, whatever, and get comfortable. Here we go: