I was born on Christmas Eve in 1995 to a mom who was barely 18 years old, had no home, no job, and had no clue what do to next. I’ve grown up and dealt with a ton of stuff that is known by very few. Homelessness for a short period of time, extreme poverty, an alcoholic dad who was never really around, drug addiction and a mom who wasn’t around too. There is tons and tons of stuff that made growing up hard, and because of this, I grew up really fast. When I was 8, my mom would drop me off on the weekends at my dads to go get drunk and party and whatever. The problem with that was my dad was doing the same thing, I would get there at like 5 in the evening and he would already be drinking. As it got later, more and more people would show up and it eventually would turn into a party with people and drugs and alcohol everywhere. As an 8 year old, that was all very difficult to understand. I would usually just walk around and drink soda and talk to people all night, which was cool I guess. One of the more stand offish memories from that whole period of time was going into the bathroom at like 4 in the morning and seeing my dad snorting cocaine drunk as fuck and having no clue what was going on. I had tried to talk to him but he ended up just throwing up everywhere and things got really crazy and I was totally petrified. I had no clue what was happening and legit thought my dad was dying so I had this little breakdown in the bathroom at 4 in the morning wearing a Goofy shirt and pajama pants while I thought my dad was dying and had no clue what to do. That is my first memory I have of ever really helpless, like no matter what I did it would’t effect the outcome of the situation. 10 years later, I talked to my dad about that night which he doesn’t really remember but I guess the deal was he had alcohol poising from drinking too much so he started getting sick and snorted cocaine to counteract that, which is what coke is used for a lot, but it just fucked him up really badly and things just got worse. Thinking back on that night, still to this day, it gives me chills. Its nuts to think about. Again, that whole feeling of being helpless was the worst thing ever. I don’t know where I was going with this whole thing.. but it was on my mind. I think feeling helpless in the situation I’m involved with now kinda brought that whole thing back up. I’m just proud of myself for being here today because I’ve had every opportunity to not be here today. I’ve struggled with extreme depression, drugs, shitty home situations, suicidal thoughts/actions ect ect but I’m still here today and that alone is something to be proud of. I’m the farthest thing from perfect but I try my heart out every day to be something different, to be someone that makes a difference. Being able to help people is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. That, and the gift to make people smile. You are loved, you are beautiful, you are unique.
Thanks for reading this far if you have, I know this is probably insignificant to most but it means something to me. I won’t give up & I hope you don’t either. Be someone you’re proud of, be true to yourself and those who matter the most.
P.S: I really would like to write a book someday.