Thursday, September 23, 2010

Shitty Way Of Life

Hi everyone. In the last post I promised to talk about my minds way of thinking. What goes on in my mind on a daily basis? So, here it is. I hope none of you get scared, or look at me differently or have any negative impact on me. I am the way I am there is nothing I can or want to do to change myself. I am happy with the way I am and if you can’t accept me for me then I don’t need that negativity in my life. I want to be surrounded by people that are positive and want to pass that positivity on to me. A lot of people can’t believe that I can write with that ability. Well, I can. My mother doesn’t like what I write she refuses to read. No matter how many time that I ask her she will not read. I am really sad that she won’t but at the same time if she can’t read what I write then she doesn’t know me as her son. I really wish that she would because then maybe she will understand my mind and my way of thinking. I really can’t say a lot about my father. He has forgotten that I even exist. I think it started because when I was teenager I used several narcotic choices and let them rule my life to a point that I was really angry at the world looking for a way out. Looking and I found the drugs. I used in every part of the day. Earlier than that, my parents divorced and I took it hard. I started smoking at a young age. I lived with my mother for a while. I felt that I was being sheltered too much. I now realized that it was because she was trying protecting me I guess, still trying to figure out what. Anyway, I was smoking and what I would do was I took the screen off the window of the two story house, climb out the window and sit on the roof while she was sleeping and smoked cigarettes. Now I was not able to buy them on account of me being too young, so I encouraged a friend to buy for me. I gave him money and he would go in and get them for me. He gave me a lecture how it wasn’t good to do it and blah blah blah. He was just looking out for me. I appreciate that buddy. Then I got in my mind, what if I could jump off the roof into the bushes? So one day after my mom went to bed, I got dressed and went downstairs. There was a bedroom in the back of the house just below my room. I unlocked the window so I could get back in. I went upstairs back to my room, climbed out the window and jumped without hesitation into the big bush on the side front corner of the house. I landed and not sure why but I got a rush out of it. Then the question arose in my mind, now what? I looked at the watch I had it was early so I ran to my friend’s house a few blocks away. We hung out there until around 5am. Then I went back home, climbed through the window on the first floor, snuck upstairs back into my room. My mother never knew. She will know a lot of things that I did if she reads this. No, readers, I don’t care if she knows. She needs to know. I am revealing a lot that she didn’t know and still doesn’t know even today. Will she get angry? I am guessing she will. But honestly I don’t care. I will explain why later. I jumped that roof so many times and landed in the bush so many times the Gardner did not know what was happening to it. The bush looked so deformed. I am not sure what kind it was, but I sure got a lot of scratches from it. While in high school, around the same time I did the jumping, I decided it would be cool to jack my mom’s car. She had a Toyota truck, stick shift. I did not have a license nor insurance. I found the keys and went for a joy ride around town. I had a lot of fun in that truck. I really liked it. I would get the truck back home before she got there. Then she would leave for her softball games. I figured I had about an hour and a half till she got home. I knew where she was playing at; I took her car again and drove there, parking on the side of the street on the hill, basically thinking out of sight out of mind. I would make sure she was there, then after spotting her I would drive around town a little. Not going anywhere, but just driving. Not once did I get pulled over, accident, or anything. I was really lucky because now I know what could have happened. And I have to say this in here because this has bothered me and kept to myself so long. I am not sure what year it was or how old I was, but I do know that my older brother was still living with us, and my mom had a Honda Accord stick shift 1987, I believe. Anyway I let my brother take the fall for this for so many years. Anyway, that day my mom asked me to get something out of her car. The garage door was open. Across the street there was a big lifted truck, not sure on the make and model of it but I do know it was white. At that age I didn’t know shit about cars. I was too young. I used to always watch her shift. I sat in the driver’s seat and pretended that I was driving. I didn’t start the car, didn’t even put the key in the ignition. All I did was press the brake, gas and clutch. I left the car in neutral when I got out. The handbrake was disengaged. I went back in the house and gave my mom what she asked for. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. My father answered it. The owner of the truck was there looking pissed off. “I called my insurance company and I gave them the information of your car.” My father was puzzled. The guy continued, “Your wife’s car rolled out the garage and hit my truck.” My father was confused. I followed them outside to look. Looking at the destruction that I caused, I was amazed. They immediately went into the house after taking down information, and beat the shit out of my brother. He was saying that he didn’t do it. But they said who else would do it? Your sister can’t, your brother is too young to even know what to do. They whooped him so bad, later on in life I felt the same wrath that I will get to later. I am finally getting it out of my head to tell the world what I was responsible for. i didn’t say shit then until now. I was not sure what would happen. I guess I was a chicken shit. But you know what I don’t give a fuck. Not anymore. I have given them my phone number not sure how many times, haven’t received not one call from them. Not one email. I even went to see my father on the last birthday I had. Guess what happened? My father owns a store. I went to that store and wanted to see him. He pulled up. I went to him and said hi. Immediately after that he told me you won’t find a job looking like you do. I told him it’s my birthday so therefore I can wear whatever I want. With that he got irate. He was yelling at me and my friends, getting in our faces. My ex-girlfriend and her bf stepped in between my father and me to protect me. He chest butted her. Her boyfriend stepped up. With my dad cursing and yelling acting like a dumbass, several people several people asked if they should call the cops. I didn’t want that because it’s my birthday. I don’t need that crap. I just wanted to say hi to my dad. I was confused what the hell his problem was and to this day I still am. I don’t talk to him. I don’t know what he is doing nor do I care. If he doesn’t give a shit about me, why should I give a shit about him? You may say because he is your father, yeah maybe you are right. But I don’t care. That’s my decision not yours. So my ex girl friend called her father and he showed up. I just wanted to leave and continue on my day. He showed up and asked what happened. Now this guy I have known for about 10 years. I look up to him as a father. He was there to rescue me when I needed someone the most, when my father wouldn’t. ok, ok, I will tell you a little history about that. One reason why I say fuck it now, is because when my parents were just getting a divorce, he moved out. he would call me and tell me pack a bag you are coming with me for the weekend. He would tell me that on Wednesday. I was so excited. I packed a bag and waited till Friday night when he said he was going to pick me up. I waited and waited. I went to sleep. Saturday morning I wake up and called him. He would say hey I am busy, let me call you back. He still did that shit to me when I got older. I look back now and I figured he was fucking some chick. Anyway, I would wait for his call. That call did not come for weeks. I can’t count how many times he did that shit. So finally I said the hell with it. My mom and I used to joke about that. Saying, “Well, he said he will call me back. So I expect a call in the next week or two.” It is funny now but at the time each time the weekend went by and he didn’t show up, I lost more and more respect for him. I went into a state of depression. Staying in my room as much as I can, writing, and finding ways to get my mind off him. The few times that he did show up, I went to his house. It was the same shit. For years he told me he would take me to the air museum. That never happened. We never went to see a movie together. He didn’t teach me to drive. He was too busy to show me how to shave. My mom and I played catch more than him and me. Was I hurt? What the fuck you think. I was a little tike trying to look up to my father and was being rejected every time. Hell yeah I was hurt. My friends were telling me what they did with their fathers. When asked, I made up stories to fit in. telling them we went to Disneyland and shit like that. We never did. In the 4 or five years this was going on for, we didn’t do more than 3 things together. That means we never went to the movie house, never went anywhere together really. Oh, one time when my parents were together, he told my mom he was taking me to the arcade. I was really excited; I got dressed super-fast and was waiting. We went out alright, right out to another woman’s house. She had a PlayStation and that’s what he called the arcade. He told me to play while he and his lady friend “talk”. Back then I figured that is what they were doing until I started to hear the moans and grunts. The door was closed but I could still hear them. She was a pediatrician. I couldn’t believe it. When we left there, we went to get some food that he bought me to keep me quiet. He drilled me a few times. “Where did we go?” I was happily eating “the arcade.” I said with smile. He kept asking me this all the way home. We would get home and mom would ask how the arcade was. I told her that it was great. He was teaching me to cover shit up. I was about 14 when that happened. I know because the game that I was playing was called Test Drive 4. It was released in 1997. Yes at that age I was na├»ve and incredibly stupid. Had I known what was going on I would have told my mother or asked for a raise. What would be really cool is I should have blackmailed him. But then again I was incredibly stupid. Before I hit 15, which is when the divorce happened. I remember that day like this morning. Two ladies came, pounding on the door, waking us up. I ran into the front room that faces the street. I looked in the driveway. Those two cars were unrecognizable. I heard the voices of the women. One voice was the same as the arcade ladies voice. She and someone else were there asking for my father. He told mom he was at a friend’s house by his work because he worked overtime and needs to get up early the next day. These women were bitching about where my father is. My mom had no idea what was going on, or she seemed not to know. She told me to stay in the room. I told myself fuck that I want to know what the commotion was. I was still staring out the window when I saw my dad roll up fast and out of control. He was bitching at the chicks. Then the chicks were bitching back. My mom just seemed passive. He left. The chicks left. I could hear my mom crying. I was confused by the whole thing. My dad came back one day soon after that. I was at home alone. He told me get in the car. I did. There were 2 kids younger than me in the backseat. I was a little confused. A woman walked in the house. I was staying in the car. They were inside not 10 minutes. I saw my mom roll up. She had a confused look on her face. At the same time she had a pissed off don’t fucking talk to me look. She got out the car and went into the house. All I heard was her say you bastard! A few moments later I saw the woman and my dad come out the house. He was telling me to get out the car. I did it. The woman and he took off together. At that point it was clear to me what was going on. He had been cheating on my mom. I assume it has been going on for years. That is the reason for the divorce. That’s when the calls from my dad saying he was going to pick me up started. I was really hurt by the whole situation. At the same time I could not imagine what my mother felt. There are a lot of parents that divorce from cheating but now I was just a statistic. A child stuck in the middle of it all. For a long time I thought I was the cause of it. Looking back now, I realized that it wasn’t. It was because of him cheating. Infidelity is the number one reason for divorce. Then everything came clear. Why my father was always gone. Why he wasn’t coming home. My mother was so hurt. To this day I think she still is. At that time did I care? Yes a little but it was more about me. I wanted the attention. I wanted all of it. I didn’t care about nothing else. Just the fact that I wanted my parents love at all times. When I didn’t get it, I would do stupid shit that made them focus on me. No matter if it was good or bad. I then found out quickly that the good shit they didn’t care about. It was the bad shit. So I started to act up more than ever. I was an evil kid. I did a lot of shit in my day. For example I would hide food in my room, wait for them to find it. And I got that attention. I would also throw trash and stuff into the neighbor’s yard. I ate the attention I was getting. I loved it. The best was the grades I brought in. my grades were so low. I stole money from them; I stole so much from them it’s not funny. If I could put an estimate on it I would say I stole about 3k from them. When I was 17, I pulled the ultimate attention getter. It soon backfired in my ass. I ran away. I was living with my mom. I just up and left. No warning, nothing. I was gone for about 2 weeks. During those 2 weeks was when I realized that I was a dumbass for running away. After the two weeks, I returned home thinking my mother was going to say I have missed you I was worried about you or something. I didn’t get shit. All she said was I could use the shower and my father is going to be called. I took a shower and my father was called. He was on the way there from his house. Yeah now he wants to show up right? After I showered and my mom told me that my dad was on his way I took off. I was so angry that all the time I was at my mom’s house he wanted to pull the shit saying he will call me back and not once try for day’s even weeks at a time. Now all of a sudden I am important enough for him to come see me when called? That’s bull fucking shit. I know you are thinking that I was selfless, but hey this is my life. My parents, the ones who were supposed to be there for me, to love me and all they did were push me out their lives. I will get an email from my mom if she reads this saying that I pushed them out my life. Well news flash mom, I was the one always calling you. I was the one trying to stay in touch. And it was not reciprocated. So I stopped trying. Why should I stay in touch with someone if that person can’t pick up a phone and call me? Why? So, when my father got there I was gone. I guess he went looking for me because he drove by at ordered me in the car. I got in like a dumbass. We got back to the house. He told me I was going to live with him. Yay! Bullshit! That was not the way it was supposed to go. I lived with him. I went to school I was doing things by the book. My mom and her boyfriend, now husband, bought me a car. It was a rundown piece of shit car. It had a blown head. I was happy though. The gesture was more than enough. I didn’t care if the car didn’t turn over. I was now feeling like a normal teenager. What happened to the car? Well, my father told me to sell it he keeps the money and sells me his car with the money. Sounds great right? Man, was that a fucking lie. I sold the car. He kept the money and the car. I didn’t see any of it. When I bring it up later he told me that wasn’t the deal. Which my mom and her husband will tell you that it was the deal. What happened to the car? He sold it to one of his bastard kids. That he fathered. Now get this, while I was living there he introduced me to a kid about 3 years younger than me talking about he is your brother. I never had seen this mother fucker before. Never heard about him, nothing. And all of a sudden he is my brother? I found more and more children that he fathered, that were being introduced to me in the time that I was there. How fucked up is that shit? Here I am, 18 now and I am learning more and more about the lying cheater of a father I have. I met my ex-girlfriend and her father at this time. We went out on dates and had fun. She asked if she could come over to my father’s house one day. I told her sure. That was my fuck up because I should have asked him first. But I still said sure. Here comes my father rolling in the house about an hour later. During that hour all we did was talk and play video games. We didn’t do shit sexually at all. We didn’t even kiss. I heard the garage door open and ran out to meet him. I wanted to tell him that she was here before he found her there. After I told him he went postal, he hit me a few times, which I didn’t know until after the fact but she saw everything. He went in the house said hi to her and told her to call her father to pick her up. He talked to her father for about 45 minutes. I was in the room which faced the front street side. Looking out the window I saw her staring up at me. I couldn’t believe what was happening. That was the last thing I remember from that day. A few weeks later we went to a government office and found out that I was adopted. That was fun. 18 years old and not knowing I was adopted. Then more lies came flooding in. my father told me that they informed me that I was adopted and that I had forgotten. That is bullshit. If I was told that I wouldn’t have forgotten that. I still haven’t forgotten 9 years later. So I started poking around searching for answers. Searching every which way I can. Asking questions. Asking people that were close to the family if they had any information. I was told by my uncle that he knew and they didn’t tell me to protect me. When I asked him to protect me from what, he acted dumb. I knew that he had answers. Just like I think my mom has answers but won’t tell me. It doesn’t even matter anymore. I don’t give a fuck. I know I am leaving a bunch of other shit I have done, I just can’t remember right now. So getting back to the main thing that I was meant to write about, which was my mind. I think because of everything that has happened I let my mind run away. Complaining about a horrible childhood and letting that get to my head. Using conflicts as an excuse to fill my body and mind with hatred. Not guilt. My therapist told me that I write the way I do because I have unsolved things in my heart and mind. I am confused and blame my parents for things that cannot be changed. I understand that what happened in the past happens. It can’t be changed. My question is, how can you force someone to have a relationship that doesn’t reciprocate? So many times I have called, emailed, visited my parents. The only emails that I get are always negative ones. When are the emails or calls going to be good? Going to be like hi son how are you we have missed you would you like to go out to eat on this day? Normal conversations. So many times I cry at night because I feel that my parents don’t give a fuck. They don’t give a fuck if I live or die. So many times I want to see if they really do. How? To kill myself. And look down from Heaven and see if they shed at least one tear. Honestly speaking, I don’t think they would. They say that they worry about me in the past, but yet they don’t call or shit. That is just fucked up if you ask me. All I want is for my parents to give a damn. To let me know if they actually fucking care. All my life, it seemed that they just want to see the bad shit, and not the good shit that I have done. I hope that one day I will be able to be seen for the person that I have always wanted to be. There are so many things in life that need to be straightened out. I wish my life was a lot better back then. Now don’t get me wrong, I was not the model son. I have done my fair share of rotten shit trust me. For once I would like to be recognized for good shit I have done. Hey mom, check out my writing. You like it so far? Bet you didn’t know your son could write like this did you? Well, I can. I am a fantastic writer. I am working on my 3rd book. That’s right my 3rd one. People loved my first 2. I am so happy. That is one reason why I started this blog. I am not only doing something that I am great at, I am also doing something that people enjoy. I enjoy it as well. So I challenge you. Look back and re-read this if you need to. Look back and think about the life I lead as a kid. Think about why I have done everything and ask yourself, did he do that to get attention? Did he really feel loved? I am not trying to force you to contact me; I am simply trying to understand what I felt growing up. I have written this whole thing from the heart. I spilled my guts to let the world see. Let the world see everything that I have done and how I grew up. I don’t appreciate being talked about. Especially about the negativity with holding the positive that has happened in my life. It has always been about the negative things. I am sitting here in tears because I remember the life. The life of when everything went down with dad. Back then I really thought it was my fault. I have been hurt so bad in the past from everyone that I said to hell with it. I want to get one thing straight though, I don’t blame you or anyone for anything that happened in my life. I blame myself. And as a result, I have become the person that I am. I have no regrets because I have taken everything as a learning experience. So, with that said I want to say publicly for the world to read that, I am sorry. I am sorry for all the pain and hurt that I have caused. I am sorry for stealing from you. I am sorry for everything.

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