I don’t know where to start but here goes.
My story has many different levels and many chapters. And one day I will be able to share what has been locked away deep inside of me. My father was my best friend and I never got to really say goodbye but even worse than that I never got to tell him that I loved him or to thank him for everything that he has done for me.
As I sit here typing this I am crying. I have a very hard time with this because I never was able to properly grieve or get closure. My Father’s death is still an open wound. That I haven’t been able to deal with. I am sad right now. The holidays are always sad for me.
My father died in 2001. It was the hardest thing I ever had to deal with. I mean others in my family have died but it was nothing like when my father passed away. A part of me died that day too. After his death I totally shut the world out. I shut down emotionally and crawled even deeper into my private world. Never to allow anyone to get to know me on a deep level. Never to be able to show true emotions or feelings or care or concern. The only role model I ever had was dead and I wished it was me. I deserved it. I was the fuck up. I was the black sheep and yet God took him. Why?
Growing up my parents always made sure we were self sufficient. They were very protective of us and made sure we followed the rules. Rules that were meant to keep us safe and to help us to grow up to be responsible and productive citizens. I was raised to respect my elders and people in general. We were brought up to live by a certain code of ethics instilled in us by our parents. We were taught how to read, write, wash clothes, cook, do laundry and all other things in order to survive. My parents raised all 3 of their boys to become men. I love my parents.
Somewhere along the way I lost that. I began to stray away from doing whats right and began to flirt with doing what I knew deep down was wrong. The more I got away with, the more attracted to it I became and the more I did it. Until finally that was my new code of ethics. Before long I was mixed up with what people always seem to call: THE WRONG CROWD. Growing up I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere but I felt right at home with the wrong crowd. Go figure. I was a misfit who fit right in..Or so I thought. I have been dealing with low self-esteem and low self worth which in turn caused me to display self-destructive behaviors. I did things to fit in. Always wanting to be liked by others. Little did I know then that
IT WAS A VERY HIGH PRICE TO PAY TO LIVE SO LOW.
Today i still struggle with self esteem, and other issues but at least I am beginning to get an understanding of me. I am not running away from my feelings today. Thanks to my higher power, the process of the fellowship, my network and my willingness to change, to grow and to finally start a new chapter.
I am getting better. One day at a time.
As I sit here at work doing literally nothing. I wonder how the family is doing and if they even think about me at all. I guess deep down inside I know the answer is NO
I mean lets be real. If they thought about me they would call or maybe send a email or a letter, fly a kite over to me, a homing pigeon, hell even a smoke signal. But yet none of the above has come my way.
So I continue to go on about my life.
You didn’t think that would stop me did you? Tisk, Tisk Tisk.
You see I have accepted the fact that I made it this way. I have lied, cheated, stole and then lied some more. I gave them every reason not to talk to me. I’ve been clean before and promised I would never do it again.
ONLY TO DO IT AGAIN AND AGAIN.
So now that I have a little clean time I expect everyone to forgive and forget. NAHHHHH
That’s a fantasy and its not my fantasy. I know better. I am more realistic than that. I don’t set myself up with these great or false expectations of my family accepting me with open arms after the harm I’ve done. Only to be disappointed and have my feelings hurt. Nope.
HURT PEOPLE, HURT PEOPLE, BUT FIRST THEY HURT THEMSELVES.
(CRACK KILLS) I WILL NOT HURT MYSELF TODAY.
So it’s not that I don’t care because I do. It’s just that I need to continue to focus on me and getting better.
NOT CURED BECAUSE I WILL NEVER BE CURED
Just better. Better at dealing with my feelings and my emotions and everyday life that shows up in between. So until that time when my higher power sees fit to make that happen. I wait patiently and work vigorously.
THIS TOO SHALL PASS.
I’ve read in our literature that not everyone recovers at the same rate and some of us are sicker than others. I had a conversation last night on Facebook with someone who proved that to me.
I sent a couple of friend requests to some people in a recovery group that I am a member of. So this person writes me back asking me who I was and goes into why you sending me a request when your page says you are in a relationship and how I need to be building my foundation and not trolling on Facebook for women. How she’s a predecessor Yadda yadda so forth and so on. Literally passing judgment on me.
Well needless to say I went ham on that ass. I forgot all about the positive and went back at this disturbed person like a zombie on the walking dead goes after people. I later felt a bad but I was able to reach out to some of my extended network and they helped me to let it go. I know that I am many things but trolling, predatory, cheater. I AM NOT.
It never seems to amaze me how many sick people there are, but it always seems to amaze me how I find myself somehow or another crossing paths with these people. Its like I have a crazy person magnet. SMH.
Anyway I know that I still have a lot of work to do. I am still capable of going zero to one hundred REAL QUICK. I have to be mindful that I am responsible for my recovery and not allow others to take me out of my positive character. Some of us are sicker than others and I have no control over how someone else acts, I only have control over how I respond.
I’m not that far removed.