Is this over yet?

July 29, 2012
12.24am
My life, where do I start? Well, let's see...
I grew up around a lot of people who taught me what not to be.
These people, I suppose you could call them my "family".
I don't see how, blood is the only thing that connects us.
That and the crazy addiction to drugs and alcohol, those were everyday musts.
Aside from my family, life was pretty normal. Pretty bland.
Had a couple close friends, nothing too much or too grand.

Up until my early teens, life was a big party.
Had all night raves, so technically no one was ever tardy.
Have an uncle, named Daryl.
Who has thrown away his life, like you do trash into a trash barrel.
Then there is Shane, another uncle of mine.
Who had sexually abused me when I was young. I didn't know it at the time,
but what he did, It wasn't fine. Up until a few months ago, my parents didn't know.
I realized it wasn't okay, that family isn't supposed to do that.
Told my parents, who were livid. My dad wanted to make his lip fat,
so let's just say I haven't seen him since.

Around 13 or 14 years old, I learned my father was an alcoholic and drug addict.
It confused me at first, but then I remembered. Ah yes, it all clicked.
Now I knew why he was jumpy when I went into his room when his back was turned.
Now I knew why there was a joint on top of the fridge.
Now I knew why he went to the corner store every 20 minutes for another 6 pack.
Now I knew. Now I knew and god damn was I mad.
Still tried to stick up for him, when my parents argued like they had.
His addiction had caused so much troubles, not only for me but for my mom and brother.
I hated him and never wanted anything to do with him.
I tried but my hatred didn't last long. The chances of it lasting were slim.
While he was trying to clean up, I was saddened. I was disappointed.
Was this the man that I have looked up to for so long?
Why doesn't hating him feel wrong?
One time I recall being in the fettle position, crying for him.
Saying over and over that I wanted my dad back. It wasn't fair.
I felt like he didn't love me anymore. That he didn't care.
I felt at such a loss, such disposition. Was my life so far yet, just a lie?

After several attempts of getting clean and sober, it seemed to finally work for my dad.
Why yes, it was 11 months and a few days of sobriety he had.
He was on his way to a year, god was that something I was proud to hear.
Then one day he slipped. He popped some pills, maybe some Oxycodon or Valiums?
I don't know, but he did. My mom wasn't having it.
My mom and him bumped heads several times after, it was a constant war.
I remember he stole $300 dollars from her, forged her name on her check and all,
My mom was in hysterics when she saw this. My true anger set in.
I was hoping this was the lowest he could fall.

Ever since that time, my dad has so far a year of sobriety under his belt,
everything is different now. Not like the numerous times before.
Now he doesn't get so mad if I forget to do a chore,
no more slamming doors, no more cursing words,
no more name calling, no more tears.
Finally, good bye fears!

Now I feel at ease, I feel secure in my father's sobriety.
He makes me proud everyday, more than happy to say that he is my dad.
Words cannot describe the hell we as a family went through, the sleepless nights we had.
Now it's all behind us. Forgiven, but sadly never forgotten.

Moving on, to the second biggest mission in my life.
His name was Tyler. Yes, he was my boyfriend.
We met online, go on and reticule me. I don't care, it was right at the time.
He lived in Kentucky, while I lived here in New Hampshire.
I didn't take it seriously at first, considering the distance and all,
but as time went on, for each other we really began to fall.
Just rehashing it now, my do I regret it.

We lasted together for a good, long, emotional roller coaster-like 13 months.
We made it through his truancy problems at school, his few stays in juvenile.
We made it through everyone saying we shouldn't be together,
that the distance was too much and that apparently they knew what was best for us.
Maybe they did, but from that relationship I learnt a lot. Excuse me if I cuss.

I learned that long distance relationships fucking suck and I don't want another one.
I learned that he was a sorry excuse for a man, not to mention he was no fun.
He was controlling, clingy and obnoxious. He thought he was the shit
but no, honestly I just wish I could take one swing at his face, just one hit.
I endured so much for his sorry ass and I wasted money on him to come see me.
What a fucking waste on someone so wrong for me, so nasty and sleazy.

He had cheated on me, within the first month of our relationship.
Don't ask me why I stayed with him, being the person I am. I still don't know why to this day.
I wanted someone to love me, wanted someone to say I was pretty.
I wanted someone to be there for me when my dad and mom were fighting.
Within the first few months whenever I needed him, he was quicker than lightning.
As time went on, he slowly seemed to care less and less,
so I said he should come up here and visit, that choice wasn't the best.

When he came, it was pure hell for my parents. They hated him.
He was so rude and disrespectful. Such a fucking prick, chances of him coming back were slim.
Make a long story short, we broke up a month or two after he left.
I was a mess at first, then I woke up and realized a great thing: I was free!
Free to talk to whoever I wanted, wear whatever I wanted. Free to be me.