Hello, Friends today is day 211 sober. I am sitting at a local Restaurant called LuLu in palm springs ca. Looking at the night sky filled with bright stars with sober eyes. Never thought I’d be satisfied with life at the moment. I was expecting to feel uneasy my first major holidays being sober, but actually I feel a lot of peace. I know I will be around booze this holiday and came to terms with it. My sobriety is number one and my family knows that if I feel uneasy I will leave the holiday festivities. Me being in recovery shouldn’t prevent others from living their lives. Trips in the past consisted of me getting black out drunk most of my days, it feels great having a clear mind. Temptation and triggers will happen in sobriety and at those times I have to take it day-by-day, even moment-by-moment.
Saw my birth mother yesterday it was a warm embrace. She looks really good like she is also on a road to recovery. Talking to my mother has really opened me up in a life changing way. Growing up was very dark but speaking to her brought on a huge understanding and compassion on why my childhood was so dark. My mother has been abused most of her life by men, she used to help cope with her pain. At the moment I feel weightless from childhood, it’s really hard to explain but its like my eyes became bigger and I now see the whole picture frame. I found peace that allows me to move towards my future. I think it’s important to never forget the roads I walked, a lot of lessons, strength, and beauty in them. I do need to detach my emotions that will make me feel negative towards others and myself. My father is a different story, I always feel a bit uneasy and nervous around him, but I know it is necessary to heal that part. Not sure if this trip will be that trip. One hurdle at a time. My sobriety is number one and I need to take my healing slow so I don’t leave anything undone.
Last night I Party Sober, I went to a local club that I used to frequent, had so much fun dancing away with one of my best friends. I had no cravings for booze actually seeing everybody wasted brought on appreciation that I was no longer partaking in that world. Sober is the New Black. The rest of the trip will consist of more writing sessions and self-healing. I found myself driving around old places i used to live and places where I have been in hurt, once i leave that spot, I leave that pain. My own way of healing, I guess.
Hello Friends, Day 180 sober. It’s has been such a busy week for me. Have some awesome upcoming shares. First and article and a featured in a magazine, Day 1, I would have never thought Sober is the new black would have brought some of my dreams to reality. I still have moments in my day where I look out the window and be in the moment. Work is slowing down and will end very soon. Going to write, write and rewrite. Heading back to Palm springs for 3 weeks at the end of December and early January. I never just sat and wrote in my hometown, so that is one of the many things I am excited to do. Going back with an open heart and a clear mind is such a beautiful thing.
Once an addict stops drinking, we are left with internal issues. So going back home will allow me to see my mother and father were I could continue the healing process. In the past, I was short tempered around my mother and nervous around my father but I need to be able to see them in the light of love and not in judgment. I am in a better place and have healed some wounds; so I am excited but I still need to learn what role will they be in my life. I will no longer let anyone make me feel less than. The most important thing is how I feel about myself.
My six months sober will be here in a couple days, the longest I have been sober in 10 years, and I feel very proud but still have a ways to go in my healing process. I need to always be aware of my ego and how my disorder manifests in my head. The disorder is not in the booze, it’s in my mind so once I am not giving it what it needs than that it comes out in the form of depression, self-hate, overeating, new addictions, sexual active, etc. So I have to be self-aware, healing and letting go of all the negative thoughts that are my addiction. So far I’ve been good, loving my mind, loving my soul, loving my talents but something I need to work on is love for my body. I sometimes look away from mirrors or find myself leaving a clothing store if I see my reflection. This is very hard to talk about but I never felt handsome. My weight always goes up and down and right now it’s a bit up but I can now see the mental disorder feeding me lies in my head, telling me to skip a meal or eat less. I am glad I am aware of it, so if weight is something I want to change, that’s ok but I need to do it healthy. So I joined a gym, so I can start working out. Working out will help my mind as well. I want to be healthy all around. I also will be forcing me to look in the mirror in the morning and say, “I am Beautiful” out loud until my eyes, voice and feelings believe it. It will take time, one issue at a time. Sober is the new black
Hello Friends, Today is day 162 sober, I just want to start off by saying all the readers support and inspiring message, that fill my heart up with so much joy. I just hope I do the same for others who may be suffering in this battle. Part of getting sober is going inside and finding root causes of my addiction. The ones I hide inside deep, from the traumas I’ve been through. I have not really talked about this subject to anyone, none of my family knows about this. So I might have some backlash or maybe some support but the most important thing in my life is healing so I can stay sober.
I was Sexually abused at a very young age. It was a male babysitter who would watch me while my mother would go out and party, my mother is also an addict. For a long time, I thought it was my doing or my curiosity that caused it. It happened more than once and I don’t remember much except that it felt good. I don’t know if I was seeking attention from the lack of it in my household or I might have seen people doing it in my household. Writing this down scares me a bit but I just need to connect the dots From being molested to addiction. I know being molested has everything to do with me seeking love in sex, or if someone is not attracted to me then that means there is something wrong with me.
My writing helps me heal from the inside. Taking all the pain out and writing it down is the way I know how to heal, When I was a child I lived in my head away from reality because It was to painful. I would daydream a new life so I can survivor another day. I don’t want to be a victim anymore, I need to take ownership of how my life is today and know that I am no longer that child being touch for love but a survivor that is blossoming into a softer person. I lived my life thinking everyone was out to hurt me and In a very defensive state but the reality is that not everyone is my parents or my molester. This was a hard write so now ill go weep my healing tears a bit. Sober is the New Black.
Stay Connect with love, Adolfo Vasquez
Ellie Goulding your song I dedciate to my innner child that still feels the need to feel scared. It time to go now, I got this. Run free.
Hello friends, today is day 88 sober. This is a longread but its necessary for my healing. This is my Teen years into early adulthood. It’s an extension from my childhood and middle school years post. It’s a bit dark and its filled with a bunch of life lessons learned from darkness. I am not trying to hurt my family just need to heal. So I hope this will help someone. The path you’ve walked isn’t really important. It’s the path you create now in this moment.
The summer before high School my mother went to jail and my brother and I went to stay with my great grandmother. My father at the time was going through his own addiction. My day had created another family with my stepmom and my two younger brothers and at the time I felt he did not want us. My brother and I stayed there for a while. It was a great time. My great grandmother was a very kind soul that showed so much love. My father eventually came and picked up my bother and I because school was about to start. I came from different city and was very scared of high school. I was really small and looked like I belong in 5 or 6 grade. Freshman year was probably the worst year of my school years, at that time I just wanted to fit in and have friends. I did not have love at home so I was looking for constant approval from people. My freshman year, I only had two shirts and two shorts. I was so ashamed and Embarrassed, my clothes would smell really bad. My shoes had holes. My classmates notice so I was not only going through hell at home now I had to deal with it at school. I just wanted to be notice really so I would started to try and fit in anyway possible but I just did not look popular in anyway. So I meet a guy who was really nice so we sat together at lunch, we were cool. He smoke pot, I had never done drugs. He invited me to his house for the weekend and I went we smoked pot for 3 days straight with no food. Came home Monday and I was stone for days after, I was so scared. My father was never really around. My stepmother had to worry about her kids (my stepbrothers) and she worked fulltime. My freshman year I never went to school, that guy who was my friend one day just turn on me and started to beat me up in bathrooms. He would wait outside my classrooms, so can terrorize me. I would run from room to room. At lunch I found a safe place in the library but he and his friends eventually found me, and would beat me up in the library. I’ve been beaten my whole life by my own parents and never spoke up and so I just let it happen. That’s one of the reason I never went to school.
Eventually my mom got out of jail and so my brother and I moved back, she moved to Indio California, which is still in the same valley. My mom had a new man name Freddy who was drug addict but worked. I did not care I was out of that high school. Sophomore year was great; I excelled with straight A’s. Academic awards in health class and English. I made some awesome friends. I started acting in drama and did so good they bump me to drama honors, junior year comes and I started to work at a pizza place and was doing good in school College prep class for English and drama. I was old enough to work so after school I would get on a bus and head to work, I felt like life was getting better than one day I get home. We had to be out in 3 days, so once again everything comes crashing down
Freddy had a truck so we load whatever we had and parked in back of taco bell and slept there, it was right by my school but eventually we had to move back to be fathers. I did not want to go back to that old high school so I stayed at Indio, the only problem was it was so far away, I had to be up at 4am riding two busses to school plus working a job it just got to much and all those college prep classes and honors classes I started to fail. I wasn’t showing up, life was overwhelming for a 15 year old. At the time is when I met a man who was the manager of the pizza place, he was my first so we started seeing each other, and I would skip school to see him. He showed me affection, something that was rare in my life, so I feel quick. He was thirty I was fifteen but eventually that did not last. People from the pizza place found out and so they made a huge fuss. I ended up Quitting the pizza place and left the high school were I was excelling at. I started doing an independent school that was once a week. I was no longer in English or drama. Since I was working fulltime I had to pay 400 bucks a month to live with my father. My father was must have been on drugs because that’s when he became really abusive. I would wake up to him beating me several times. Stomping my back and face. Kicking my bother and I out the house because of gang’s stuff eventually going back home to see my father sitting on the couch with a gun on his lap. One time my brother who is a few years younger than me had to wash his clothes. My father was in the garage where the washroom was. My father would not let us wash are clothes because his friends we probably doing drugs but we need to for school, so my brother walked in and my father beat him in front of his friends to show respect. I kind of hate my father right now. I still can hear my younger brother cries echo.
My stepmother eventually left my father so again my brother and I moved back to my moms. My mom, her boyfriend, my brother and I lived in a small studio. I was working a grocery store as a bagger and started making friends, I start to come out as gay; I never had any issues with. I don’t remember my first drink but it happens around 17-18 but I was a light -weight drinking like two Smirnoff ice and that’s it. My mother couldn’t really beat me any more but she would say the most horrible things, like I wish I never had you, faggot, etc. she might have been coming down off here drug of choice. I ended up in a continuation school. I would walk a mile to school but I was so determine to graduate and I did. My mother was once again kicked out so we moved into a motel and lived there for sometime. I had already graduated and saved up to by my first car, everything I had I worked for myself, no help. My mom was still using, I found her meth pipe in the restroom and I always would get so hurt every time I found out she was using, I am sure Vince (My EX) felt that way about me..
I got my own place and moved my mom and my younger brother in. My mom did not work, so I had to take care of everything. It was hard but I was manage to do it for awhile, we had really no food. I turned 21 so I would go out, I feel kind of bad because my brother and I started to drift a part because I was 21. He would always want to hang with me but I pushed him away. He started hanging with people who smoked weed. He now struggles with addiction. At that time I was drinking a little but a friend one day offered me cocaine and I feel in love with it. I couldn’t party without it. It was a feeling at the time like no other. It took me away from reality. Life was too much and this helped me coupe. I was doing it for a while. One day I did way too much and spun out, my come down was so bad I was in the hospital. Since that I day I could not do cocaine without getting that feeling so I stop.
My stepmother and I became really close, she came and picked me up. I never went back to my apartment. I left behind everything including my younger brother. I felt bad, I couldn’t save him. I had to save myself. He is now struggling. I moved in with my stepmom and for 3 months I didn’t drink or do drugs. I ate really healthy and worked out, running 6 miles a day. I was working on the outside not the inside, I did not know I was an addict so I start going out but it wasn’t the same. I was not having fun because I did not have that numb feeling. I remember that day I transferred addiction. It’s crazy because I remember that moment. I was at toucans a local gay club and my friend at the time asked me what’s wrong. I told him, He said chug two whiskey and coke and ill get that same feeling. So I did, and that gave me a similar feeling. I think that was the start. I had a couple of short-term loves but it did not last they both cheated on me but I was still not dealing with my past issues. I was picking the wrong guys. One guy was such an ass; he was older and did not ever want to be around me. He wanted to schedule me in, emotional not an available, cold . He had his own issues but he was verbal abusive. I was so used to people abusing me so I took it for 3 months and it didn’t work. I stayed with my stepmother but I was not growing, all I did was watch film and drink. There was a point when I was like maybe I should stop but I did not know how too. I walked into an AA and it was so scary, all ex convicts. I walked in and I was this little gay boy at the time. Everything they spoke it was about with they have done, not the way the mind of Addiction worked. So I checked everything off my list and was like, oh I am not an addict.
I ended up getting laid off of work, I found this older man who basically paid me to hangout and sleep with him, he was an Alcoholic. So from morning till night we would drink, eat and have sex but not just with each other. I was so lost and just wanted some sort of love and I did not want to feel. In my early years I did sell my body for petty cash, it was a rush and I didn’t respect my body. This older man wasn’t giving me petty cash I did not work for two years. Being in my early 20’s making 3 grand a month wasn’t bad. It was two years of craziness. He is well known who had a house in Palm Springs.My addiction started to show. My family I think started to notice. I got arrested for public intoxication, I lost my cell phone that night and wallet and got my septum ripped out. My stepmother refused to pick me up. Tough love. I ended up moving in with my brother, sleeping on the couch. Not aware of my addiction, past issues, a lost soul. After a child is treated like I was you go from hurt kid to an angry negative person and that’s ok because that needs to happen so you can heal eventually. That older man eventually left.
So I was broke, car-less, hurt, had a few items, sleeping on a couch, no checking account at 23 years old. One day I decided to walk to brother hot tube with a glass of wine, and I found this cute boy on Facebook, we started chatting. Little did I know he was going to be one of the biggest teachers in my life so Far. I knew talking to him it would be my out of the hell I created and my parents co created. I rode a greyhound bus to LA. He was outside waiting for me, and I saw him we hugged and kiss. I just felt like home when I was around him, my whole body went numb and I lost my breath, till this day I still get that same feeling when I am around him. A month later I was moving to LA all I had was a bag of clothes and a huge gold bunny that was like 2 feet tall. I was unaware all the past pain I was bringing with me and Vince was also unaware. I still did not understand I was an addict. The relationship was good and also chaotic. There was know way I could have heal 23 years of a horrifying childhood, teen, and early adulthood in the time with Vince.
I sit here now fours years after moving to LA. Making the decision to move out here saved my life. I did not need really an convincing, I had nothing in the desert, I had a chance to be away from my parents. A new life but I had that same mind. I am not perfect but I am on my way to becoming who I am supposed to be. Using my past as the fuel to my rocket shooting into endless possibility. Staying sober, going inside to heal, spiritual practices, creating deep love for myself, writing, creating positive thoughts, finding me, forgiving, sober is the new black, hanging out with my inner divine, learning how to be alone, separating me ego from my soul, law of attraction, laughing, creating passion are just some of the things that will keep me on my path to becoming ADOLFO. Sober is the new black, I am grateful for life
Stay connect with love Adolfo
Jennifer Hudson I am changing is a perfect song,
I am changing, I am going to start again, I am going to leave my past behind me, Im change my life, make right, nothing going to stop me now.
Hello friends, today is day 67 sober. This post is the extension from my childhood post I wrote Earlier this week . These middle school years are fresher and more complex. I believe I was an addict before I even had my first substance, I was an addict for numbing myself so I did not have to deal with reality, I was an addict in needing approval from others, I was an addict for doing whatever it takes to be accepted. Again I am not trying to blame my parents or others for my Addiction but I do believe we all have pasts that mold us and are minds that creates the perfect mold for an addict, this is my story. Going through my addiction brings me a clearer understanding on my parent Addictions. I hope my story can help others who suffer from a treatable disorder that seems at times untreatable.
At the end of fifth grade my mother picked up my brother and I from my great grandmas. We grabbed what few things we had and put them in a black trash bag, walked to the nearest bus stop. She got a place in palm desert were I started middle school. We lived in 4 different places in those three years. My mother was still with Bert and the first apartment we lived in was a two bedroom, my brother and I shared a room. That year I started middle school, I was excited also nervous my first day of school. A I asked to be put in drama because film and acting was and still is a passion. In 7th grade I wrote a poem my teacher loved. She had me read it in front of the class, than it was published but I never thought my writing skills can turn into something great. The poem was called “ I am short 7th grader that’s meant to be on stage”. In middle school I never had nice clothing. I felt embarrassed and ashamed most of the time. I was ashamed for being on the free lunch program, so I wouldn’t eat. I would be out from morning to night; I did not want to be home. In school I was a bit of loner. In sixth grade I would sit under trees by myself and eat French fries. Looking back at old self brings on a feeling of wanting to go back and Whisper words of encouragement in my ear. I had a couple of great friends, one life long friend . I was to embarrassed to let anyone in my life and that carried into high school.
We eventually got kicked out from that apartment and moved to another apartment a few blocks away. I don’t remember my mom or stepfather ever being home. When she was home fear was always over taking me. I was playing in a park once and a gate slammed on my hand and a chunk of skin ripped off of my hand. Strangers ran over when they heard my scream. They were asking for my parents but of course they weren’t there. I was 11 at the time. The stranger drove me home. When he knocked at the door and my mom scream for us to use the back door, for some reason she hated us using the front door. She opened the door in a rage only to turn it off in seconds when she seen it was another adult carrying me with blood everywhere. This stranger drove my mother and I to the hospital, I had to get stitches. We never had reliable cars. Growing up we never seen a dentist or doctors. One time in my middle school I had a really bad fever and at one point I told my mother and my step father my head was in great pain and it was getting worse but they sent me back to bed. When you have a fever it can cause you to hallucinate if you get to hot. So I was lying in bed counting sheep and all of a sudden I felt my head explode, I ran into the living room and started climbing the walls thinking I was spider man, screaming the house was on fire. My step father grab me and took me outside where it was cold and my temp went down, they felt I didn’t need to see a doctor.
I just knew if I ever wanted anything in life I would have to do it on my own so around 12 I started working at a local street fair because I needed money. My anxiety came out in full force around this time, I didn’t know what anxiety was. Fear was instilled in me at such a young vital time in my life. You have to be careful with very young kids because you mold their self-esteem and mind. Fear came out in form of food, I was afraid of choking, so for 2 years I didn’t eat. It all started when I swallowed a gum and I thought it got stuck in my throat. After that I chewed my food into liquid and even then I had to concentrate so I can swallow. It was horrible. Even now when I chew my food sometimes my mind takes me back to that place and I find myself chewing my food the same way and force swallowing. (Its kind of crazy what trauma can do to a small child)? It got to the point were I was really skinny like feed the hungry commercials. I do remember my mom crying and telling me that they would put a tube in me if I continue not eating.
I always knew my mom did drugs, the first memory was when I was very young, I believe in 2 grade my brother and I found a small bag of white powder we opened it and it spilled all over us. My mother freaked out, she thought we ate some, so she rushed us to the kitchen and made us drink a cup of milk instead of heading to the doctor. At a young age I knew drugs were the reason my mother was the way she was. Besides my stepfather blowing weed in are face, I walked in my mom in middle school with a huge pile of what powder on a mirror, I believe it was cocaine. She rushed me out of the room and she said it was the neighbors. My mother lying to me must have been the guilt.
My mom let me have my own dog name snuggles in 6th grade. Snuggles gave me that unconditional love and kisses I needed. She was my hero. We squatted in a home most of seventh grade then eventually got kicked out. We moved into a small apartment on the outskirts of palm desert and most of my time I was outside. My mother was getting tried of Bert and she got a job at a local store. She has always been very strict with cleaning and she wanted everything to be spotless. Even if it was clean we never cleaned it good enough, so when she would get home from work she would spot check then beat us or scream at us. One day my mom never came home and disappeared for two weeks, Bert was really depressed. It turn out my mom met this new guy name Sammy. Bert was never really a father to us but he was the constant male in are life. Its funny, how someone can be in your life for so long than in one second they are gone.
My mother men just got worst, this one was name Sammy and he was a drunk and abuser. We packed up and my mother told me my best friend snuggles could not come. I kissed my dog on the head and told her how sorry I was for what I was about to do. I poured all the dog food on the floor and a huge bowl of water. Went next door to let them know if they want to keep her, than left a note on the front gate saying free dog. The only real love I felt was about to be abandon, we locked the door and I can still her snuggles howling for me. As I walked away I start screaming and crying. Till this day I still have pain from that experience, I feel like snuggles didn’t understand it was not my choice to leave her. Not sure if she is still around but if she is I hope she went a great family she deserved with endless amounts of kisses and lots of yummy treats. If she passed on I hope she knows what deep love I have for her still and I want to tell her thank you for giving so much joy in a dark time in my life, she was the light in a very dim room. We always had pets and we always had to abandon them. My mother ex would drive down a dark street throw are dogs out the car while I scream my head off.
So we moved into Sammy moms home. She was so mean, we were not allowed in the kitchen or to eat food, so we ended up at a motel. We walked with trash bags full of are clothes over the freeway to get to the motel. Motels were second home. For a while we would have to walk over a mile to a school bus stop. One day we walked a mile to get to the motel and notice my mom had checkout so we walked back to the bus stop not knowing where to go. She finally picked us up. Sammy didn’t work but some how manage to get us a place. They would always fight and it would be bloody. Sammy would take us to the store and make me stuff my pants with stolen goods and if I didn’t than he would beat me and call me a pussy. At that time I also was stealing food and eating, lunchables, cheese-string, and reeses cups in the restroom stalls of grocery stores. I just knew if I did not I would go hungry. Stealing was a family bonding time, once my stepfather sent my older brother and younger brother into Wal-Mart to steal shoes, they got caught and my stepfather drove off, so my older brother had to call my mom to pick him up.
I never went to my middle school graduation because I did not have a ride and my mother did not care to see it. My brother and I would always sneak into apartments to use the pool. One day we left and came back to see my mom sitting in a back of a cop car with handcuffs. Sammy just got out of jail for beating up my mother and went back to the house to get his things. I had a feeling that day that I should stay home but ended up still heading to the pool. I guess Sammy showed up with his mom and sister and called the cops saying my mom attacked them. That moment change the course of my life. The cops took my mom away and Bert came and told us we cant’ stay with him. Bert drove us to my great grandmas because my father didn’t want my brother and I. To be continue.
Sober is the New Black.
Stay connect with love, Adolfo
Michael Jackson Man in the Mirror is a perfect song for this post
This long read is Dark that might affect a lot of my family but its part of the process of healing. The point of it isn’t to hurt but to heal and write down with the eyes of that young child. Not the view of my brothers or trying to rationalize my parent’s behavior. I need to heal the hurting young kid that still weeps. Growing up I never talk to anyone about my childhood and teen years, my good friend Nikka and Marquita who I knew since kindergarten never met my mother nor my father. I put on a fake smile and denied everything. Living in a fantasy of false and pretend fairytale that was really a dark hole that consists of blood baths, fear, homelessness, molestation, drugs and selling my body. My goal is to go back and save that young kid with a beautiful smile and those big rounded brown eyes. This is my childhood from k-5, the memories are a bit jumbled and hard to remember the exact timeline but the events are real and the pain is real. I love my parents but this words needs to be let out. It will be a two part child hood and teen years.
I was born on a rainy day on 11:11:85 in Palm Springs California, I was the first born on my father’s side and at the time my mother already had a child from a previous marriage. Growing up I always lived in fear. My parent’s energy was so hostile and vulgar. Since I could remember I was walking on eggs shells that had needles. If I even looked the wrong way I would get beaten to the pole. My parents were on drugs most of my life. Around 3years old I remember living with my two brothers and my birth parents. They would get into these fights that would scare me to the core so bad that even when we were having a good time I was so scared of them fighting. I am extremely sensitive. I remember staying up most nights, with my ear to the their bedroom door listening. Waiting for the fight. When I heard peace I felt comfort so I would head to bed for few hours than my anxiety would kick in and so my ear was back at the door. I remember one day my parents were on the couch watching TV and I kept running from my bed to the end of the hallway so I can see if they were fighting. Eventually they notice and instead of comforting me a 3 year old they screamed and threaten to beat me. So I would run and hide. I don’t understand how parents can be that way to their own child. They are the cause of the uneasy feelings. I would always be afraid when my father would come home from work. At my age I couldn’t process fear so I acted out with anxiety and when I did they would beat me for it. I remember my father was trying to sleep and I had a cough, he didn’t want to hear me so he threw me out in rain in the middle of the night and locked the door of course I was screaming my head off. This pain I carry is deep its in every cell of my body and bone marrow. I don’t remember much from the time when my parents were together, just a blur. If I were to sum up that time it would consist of fights, extreme Fear, a lot of spanking, yelling, walking in on my parents having sex.
Eventually my parent split. I had a babysitter that would come over; he lived across the street from the house. He was a family friend at the time and was a teenager I believe. When he would watch me he would show me his private part and have me touch him and do stuff to him. I am not sure if I seen my parents do it to each other and I wanted to act it out, somehow I knew mommy and daddy did those things, I had to be around 3 years old. I never told anyone this before and it feels good to speak out about it. We did not always have a babysitter. I remember Waking up and my mother would be gone so I would run around the house scared screaming and crying. Again fear! I kind of hate her right now as I am writing this because fear plays a huge role in my life now. When I look at the very few pictures I have of me as a child I just want to give myself a big hug, I really don’t remember hugs or kisses at all. I was such a cute kid that was very sensitive. The day after my father left a guy name Bert moved in and my mom said this is my new father and I have to call him dad. My mother must have been cheating on my father since the move in came quickly. My mom left my older brother father for my father quick too, not sure if I am even my father son. I don’t remember any family members really stepping in or even noticing. My older brother ran away to his father leaving my younger brother and I. From the outside my brother and I looked put together but the reality is it was noticeable that we were being abuse and I have forgiven my other family members for not stepping in, it took some time but I will never forget.
My mother always depended on men for everything security, money, and happiness. My father was the same way with women. Bert my new father was a stoner who never worked, he would blow weed smoke in my brothers face and I all the time. He never kept a job, I think when my mother met him he was working for the city and got fired for buying booze with his work shirt on. After that he did odd jobs to get by and my mother never worked. Since no one kept a job we moved around a lot. When I started kindergarten my parents didn’t or couldn’t have my brother and I so they dropped us off with my great grandma. She was such a wonderful human that I am grateful for, Anita was her name and she made the best homemade tortilla with beans. She would get me ready in the morning. My mother eventually came back for us. My first grade memory that sticks to me was my mom calling me inside because she said, my grandma was on the phone, and she was lying. I ran inside, my mom was behind the door with a high heal behind her as I ran in from excitement she pounds my forehead with her heal blood everywhere my scream echoed. It still does till this day. My younger brother behind me getting that same heal across his head covered in my blood. Me and my brother got moved around all over, we moved to La Quinta and my mother did not want to enroll me in school so I walked myself to the local elementary school and gave them the packets the first day of school and again know one thought of calling social services.
School was never important to my mother, my brother started kindergarten at 7 years old. The next year when I went to enroll again they said I never was a student. Eventually we were kick out of my aunts house. So from k-5 I was in 4 different schools been kick out of every home because my mother and Bert never paid their rent. We would lose everything in storages. I have nothing from my childhood except a few photos. I only had Trash bags of clothes. In 4 and 5th grade, we were really poor and went to bed hungry often. That’s when stealing really became a family habit. I was put in doggy doors so I can steal food for the family. We squatted in the home for a while didn’t pay rent and the owners couldn’t get us out.
We never felt Secure. My mom was so abusive, neglect full and wouldn’t really feed us. So between moving all around there was pretty horrible blood baths even at one point living in what now seems like a crack house with a gun put to are heads. I wish I could have saved my brother. My mother had me lie to my teachers and birth father about my bruises and knots. So lying, fear, lack of security, hurt and anger was instilled in me at a very young age and became the foundation of me. I am so grateful I had my brother to lean on and to help pass time. My brother and I became animals stealing food from stores, sneaking food in the middle of the night to are room like rodents. When we had roofs over are head it never was a home. At times we did not have Electricity so are house will get dark really quick. Are fridge would be an igloo cooler and showers would be in the dark. At a young age I lived in my mind the whole time make believe was my best friend.
There is so much more I can write down but these are the ones that stick out at the moment maybe ill save in for my bio. So now I go and weep for that hurting 3 year old who lives in fear from people hurting him, going to hold his hand and kiss his forehead while he weeps. Going to sit next to him and ease his anxiety with a sweet lullaby. I want to carry him from that past of profound misfortunate and into the moment of endless possibility. So he can see the beauty in life. Sober is the New Black