“It’s been a while since I’ve talked about this stuff. I recently lost my girlfriend and I pretty much don’t have anyone close to me anymore.
I’m currently high. As usual.
I smoke every day now. Kinda bums me out but I still have an incredible life when I think about it.
So, this is my story.
My mom was a whore.
Yeah, I said it. My dad was a pig, so I’m definitely not sexist.
They met at a strip club while my dad was in a relationship with another woman. Fucked up, right?
Well 8 months later a premature baby was born.
My dad was out of the picture by then.
So my mom started dating a guy named Joe (not fucking joking his name was Joe).
Let me set the scene for you.
South Carolina. Redneck country, in a trailer park. With two stoners as parents. I didn’t know at the time but my mom was a Coke whore. Straight up.
I had two older sisters, 7 and 10. They took care of me more then she did but they could be really fucked up too.
I remember they used to make me eat grass and dog food. For fun.
My mom and Joe would play video games, and watch horror films almost every day and night and have me sit in the middle of them. Before I was even 3. I still have dreams of those movies. They were two drug addicts that did not know how to take care of children. But I didn’t know that. I still loved my mom. She was my mom, like she held me, she was still a good mom sometimes. Other times she was coked up and strung out. I remember crying and Joe beating me for it. I remember being terrified of him. He said some fucked up shit to me and around me now that I think about it. I could go further into this but it’s not worth it. So here’s the transition. One night, my mom (coked up or something) started choking my oldest sister. Like really choking her. My sister got away and took both my younger sister and I on the porch with a phone and called 911. Next thing I remember was 3 cops cars showing up. It’s kinda hazy, I remember the lights, being inside the car. Crying. I don’t really remember what happened those next couple weeks. I had to talk to a lot of people. Therapist and people that had to decide if my mom was fit enough for custody.
So let’s throw my dad back into the picture because I can’t forget about him. When I was 2, I was diagnosed with skin cancer. I had a tumor under my left arm, in my arm pit. He paid for that stuff. He still gave my mom money. He wasn’t a total dick, like he financially supported my mom when she needed it. But in the mean time of all of that, he had another baby boy. So my birthday is Sept-24, my brothers is sept 7th, exactly one year after mine. So when I was turning 1 his other son was on his 17th day of life.
When I moved in with my dad I was almost 4, and my brother was almost 3.
So I just came from absolute shit. Like trailer trash, roaches, scum bags, shitty people.
My dad was making good money when I moved in. My brother had every toy he could want. His room had a bunk bed WITH A SLIDE!! He had a game cube, one of those cool ass map rugs that you can play with cars on, a closet over flowing with toys, and most of all, he had his mom. My step mom.
This woman was abusing the fuck out of prescription pills. And she hated my ass. I wasn’t a good kid, I was a devil child after what I came from. I cursed. I yelled. I screamed a lot.
This is when I give you the background into mentally, who I am. What I was like at 4 years old.
My real mom, had bipolar disorder. Diagnosed and everything. My dad had really bad ADHD.
I’m the combination.
Add in a terrible home full of chaos pretty much everywhere I’ve lived so far and it tends to create a crazy person.
That crazy person is me.”
I wrote this post 3 months ago, during an incredibly hard time in my life. I wrote this all in my notes thinking I’d never share it with anyone. Well I’m done hiding in my own shadows.
Hello Medium, Im going to attempt to start writing more often. I’ve tried therapy, drugs, everything. Maybe I just need to write. I don’t want your sympathy. Just your attention. Thank you for reading