My parents died, I watched them kill themselves.
technically, my mother is still alive, in a literal sense, her body is still functioning.
But it isn’t her, not any more.
A while back, hell.. probably before I was invented, a seed got planted in my mum that drove her off the deep.
She had a rocky childhood; sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll… all too much exposure for a life so young. Yep, she got a shit hand dealt and she dealt me a few of the same cards.
My dad? He had alcohol poisoning twice before he was twenty. He was a fat kid, hell, mama and dada, they were both fat kids… me? Yeah, I was a fat kid too…
So it runs in the family, a whole bout of crazy. Mum and dad both busy numbing themselves to a life time of pain a torment. And me? Yeah, well, I’ve had a few glasses and I don’t regret it, because it gave me the balls to be blatant and truthful.
Thank god for internet anonymity … (Don’t hack me please, I’m not famous enough that exposing me would be worth a damn)
Anyhow,
I had to tell you, the deep dark and nasty truth…
Ever since I was little, single digits, actually, one of my first memories…
In my fantasies, I was a character, and alter ego… the idolized version of myself who’s pain was beautiful and graceful, tragic yet pure… and who didn’t have any parents.
At the age of, I dunno, probably 6? I was unattached to my parents. Part of me always knew I was going to be living a life without them. But the fact of the matter is, no one tells you how hard it is to live alone. No one tells you that a life without a safety net makes you into an alley cat. You wake up with every bump in the night. You never feel certain and you don’t believe in good deals because they’re always too good to be real.
It happens when you’re cooking food on a hot plate. In a gym. In a cold state. In the middle of winter. And you wash your clothes in an industrial sink, and you have an odor issue, but no one bothers to tell you until 3yrs later.
You know what’s crazy?
Some of the best years of my life. Yep, I was desperate, and yeah, shit sucked. I was in a relationship with someone who I had to fantasized about sex with another person to get through.. but you know what? Wouldn’t trade it for the world. Hell, the cliches keep on coming but if I knew what I knew now..
Well, dunno… God’s honest truth, I might not ever have come back, might not have ever met my husband and father of my child. I dunno… But given the chance to go back I can’t deny a part of me would like to do it differently, even if it meant no husband and no kid. Love ’em both, god knows, I love ’em both so bad it fucking hurts… but I won’t lie. Part of me, would chose the road over home every time.
Anyhow. Stories done. See you in the next blog.
Darkwood, out.
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