At the height of 3 p.m. I laid there. Wishing things would get better. Hoping for a more rapid end to the problems that have seemed to stacked their odds against me. I want some type of semblance of happiness somewhere. But as the sun blazes the darker my day gets.
I picked up the phone and dialed the number that has not changed in the 25 years that I've been alive. She always sounded the same. And every time I spoke with her, the more and more I realize that people only do what they can. Or do they?
I always wonder or think about why people don't take the opportunity in front of them or do they really make a conscious effort to stay caught up in the same cycles? Was I apart of this too?
I asked her flat out, "Why do parents lie to their children?" I was raised, tricked even to not like my grandmother. I was told things like "She's broke," or "She doesn't send birthday gifts," "She has a degree why doesn't she have a better job?" and the classic, "She didn't inspire her kids to do anything."
My mother has always invested so much time in making sure I didn't like the same people she didn't like - for no apparent reason. She always trusted the people that didn't make me feel comfortable.
Listening to my Grandmother - listening to my mother, I can see things clearly. But after putting two and two together life made sense...something for my own knowledge.
"Are you high?" she asked me.
"Reefer?" Today I replied.
My father died at 29 from drug related drama. Not an overdose...no one speaks about it, but I believed he owed him money. 29 is in 5 years for me.
I think about my father a lot. He's a mystery. We share the same thing. I know nothing about him. No one talks about him, except for "He was a great guy," "You would have liked him." Drugs took him down...I've already been my mother and I don't want to be a man I don't know.
He came to me one night. More than that. I was so high I cried, because I knew that I was going to die that night. I drove home, scared out of my mind. I told God that night, that if I got home I would never do drugs again. That was three weeks ago.
But having that conversation with a mother, my Grandmother who lost her son to drugs and things that are probably difficult for her to talk about - pleaded with me to stop. I was coming down and I told her I would. Because I didn't want to be my father, the man I know nothing about.
I don't owe the pusher anything. I pay my balance in full...lol. I called my best friend over and I told her today was the day that I quit.
I can't continue to live my life in chaos. I have to be strong for my 5 year old sister, who has already figured out that her parents aren't worth shit in the toilet. I can't care for her high. I have fans that I have to go sign books for, I refuse to do that high. I have a life to live that is bigger than me and I can't lead that life high.
Although I've been going through the hardest period in my life. Loosing money (not drug related...trust), loosing friends, not being able to trust anyone, examining the bullshit that has been pumped into my brain, putting out a book, deviating from the mediocrity that has been set up for me.
I have outdone everyone in my family.
I have a lot to be proud of.
Two books at 25.
Working on my 4th.
A successful company.
Working on launching a non-profit scholarship fund.
I am real.
I am successful.
It's time for me to move the bullshit to the side and walk in the light that I DESERVE to be in.
I am tired of being tired.
I am tired of being high.
I am tired of interacting with these fake ass bitches.
La la la la...wait till I get my money right...
It's time to step up and be the great people that we are....
and thank you DH for being who you are, sharing your story and helping me see my power and stepping back into the light. Just when I was ready to walk away a simple statement made my day.
we're all here to learn from each other.
everything happens for a reason.
everything falls into place when it is supposed to.