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Rated: 18+ · In & Out · Experience · #1649094
It is a simple story about how my mother tryd to raise me but i ended up raiseing myself.
A Mothers Love
My mother is living with my step father. I got kicked out of his house when I was caught with $900 at school. I was walking to class with an unknown limp. It was in question as to why I was walking funny. They decided to search me and my possessions; while searching they found the money in my shoes. I told them that I had been saving my allowances, so that I could take my friends to the movies and Dairy Queen. As well respected adults and office officials, they had to ask themselves “what kind of a 7th grader has the access to $900 in allowances? Maybe, one that sells drugs?”
My Stepfather was a drug dealer; Mother was a cocaine addict. My Mother thought that she was doing good for my sister and me; because we were low class, we did not have the funds available for all the necessities of life. She thought; why not marry somebody who has more than enough money to care for myself and my children. But did she ever believe in a million years that her lovely son would become a drug runner for her beloved? She always dreamed that her children would have a life better than the one given to her; that is what all mothers want for their little angles? A mother who wants best for her children would never subject them to a life of drugs. But a mother addicted to cocaine, what else was there to think about. “Kids, whose kids”?
Once I was told by my Mother while she was “high” that I was a twin. I had a hang nail and had already had one removed from the other foot. I asked why I always got hang nails. Once having a twin was the response. A twin I thought? I only have a sister and she’s two years older than me. So I asked my mother where my twin was. I found out that when she was pregnant with me, I had a twin brother. But I was evil; so evil that I ate my twin while we were in the womb. I was about thirteen. I had seen and heard a lot at that point in my life.
After being relieved of living at my step fathers; my mother, the loving mother that she was got a low income apartment in her name for my sister and me. So this was now my home at thirteen; and my sisters at fifteen. My sister and I were so happy to be out of our step father’s house. But now we did not see our mother too often because she was still living with her husband. And still she was using cocaine. This would be what any good mother would do. She gave me a place to live and grow when her husband wouldn’t. But what would a thirteen year old boy need when he grew up in a home where drugs were being sold and who’s mother was addicted to cocaine? Why not give him his own home to thrive in because he is getting in to too much trouble. I thought it was great.
I took off in the footsteps of all the great parents I had had thus far. I started to sell drugs like my step father. I even began to use as I was taught by my loving mother. At thirteen I felt like I was on top of the world. I had my own home where all my “friends” could stay. I had access to all the drugs I wanted to use; and the ability to sell the rest. My life was great. I never wanted it any other way. Not until I grew up and realized that the life I was living was not getting me anywhere.
But now with what I had become accustomed to, my success rate was not all that great. Throughout my life of drugs and a dysfunctional family; I had not become the “man” that my mother had dreamed me to be. But when given the life I had been given, you would not assume I would do anything too great. But this life has given me the mind and spirit to become something more than a drug addicted drug dealer. No I had not been given everything in life that someone may have dreamed. But I have been given the opportunity to become someone who will be remembered for something good rather than bad. I have dreamt in life, a life of luxury and becoming prosperous in the “dope game”. But now I realize that I really want to be prosperous with the goods of life because the bad only brings the bad.
My mother was not as good of a mother as she thought she was. Putting your son and daughter in a dope house is not the best thing you can manage for your children no matter how bad off you think you are. We could have been taken from her if the state new all this. Even better it took for the step father to kick me out for us to get out; but my mother did not come with us. She got my sister and me a house, but she stayed behind. And now she is so proud of the man that I have become. Though now that she is no longer using cocaine; she knows that she is not the reason I am going to do great things in life. She apologizes to me sometimes for the life she gave me. My mother cannot take credit for who I have become. I have become who I am because I chose to be better. Not because my mother did so great raising me.
I am here to help others with lives that are not so great. I will become someone that people will look up to. My mother went to a psychic when I was a child and he told her that I was a healer. She took it as to how I always made her feel better and how everybody was happy when they were around me. She thought possibly I would become a doctor. Well I will become a psychological doctor, a counselor. I will help those who need emotional help. I will become this because I want to. I want to do good for those who do not have much good in their life. I never had a lot of good, but I made a lot of good out of it. I have had many instances in life where I should have died; but I am still here to help those who need it.

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