“Healing Time”

Well, I don't know where to start this story so I'll just start from the beginning. As far back as I could remember my mother and I have had problems. It started when I was nine or younger with the name calling and the beatings. Then as I got older around twelve she told me to get out of her house. So some of my friends walked me around the curve to my auntie house and she didn't even allow me to get any shoes. So I could truly say that's when the anger begin to develop in me. I moved into my grandmother’s house which was a place to stay but was not a place to make a home.

My father at the time was a drug addict so what help could he be to me at this time when I needed guidance and understanding? So I did what any preteen would do, started to make my own rules. So I moved back in with my mother for a short period of time before we begin to argue, fight and just plain could not get along. So here I was again getting put out on the streets again and this time I didn't look back. By her putting me out this time it created a void and a hatred in me towards her. Even though then I didn't know that's what was going on. I thought I was being strong and independent at fifteen. Every time someone would ask me are you okay does it bother you that your momma put you out? But to me it's just like they said your momma don't want you and basically saying everything you do is wrong. I would just make a comment Oh she did me a favor now I can do what I want to do. How many of us know at fifteen we don't know what we want out of life and that every thing seems like it's the right thing to do even when its the wrong thing to do. See but there goes the illusion that we can handle anything and everything.

Now, this is when my life started running itself instead of me being in control it seems like all the elements and people around me were in control. I was thirteen when I first smoked a marijuana and cocaine joint wrapped in a sweet backwood leaf.