Genesis

The perpetual question of time...."What came first, the chicken or the egg?" Regardless, every story has a beginning. Mine is with a couple of folks who probably were the least likely of individuals, however, my life is a cliche in that opposites attract.

He was an extrovert, creative type, no boundaries, no limits, no rules. Pain and feeling were replaced with the hot decade drug of choice or some distilled beverage with an alcohol content of a minimum 5%. She was the quiet, reserved, albeit conservative who wanted to defy the rules to which she bound herself by. Elton John had nothing on her as she sported her rose colored glasses.

Needless to say I did not choose either one of these people. While they both carry merit, although I question on the sperm donning side as to whether he carries any merit anymore, the two created a disastrous environment to mold me into the jaded, self-loving, selfish (fuck yes, I will admit it), arrogant, intelligent, woman who loves too much. Tis true I am, err maybe was, the girl next door. Beautiful smile and charisma, body that would make a model cringe in envy, and now while still remnants of that girl remain I am but damaged goods.

Raised in a full blown, let's hide the fucking truth that dad and husband are an abusive drunk alcoholic, mom is the ultimate enabler and let's just ignore everything and it will all go away, coupled with the fact that both of them checked out on me emotionally at the ripe age of five leaving me with spotty memories of a youth with two parents. A spotty memory of life as a child. What the fuck was life like as a child?

Recalling my childhood is like asking someone to define the true meaning of life. No one really knows for sure, but what I do know is being put into a position as an eight year old child to raise two younger siblings as if they were your own children. Feeding them, waking them, getting them off to school, even disciplinarian actions were taken because daddy dearest would pass out drunk or high, depending on the day and fix. Mom while trying to be the responsible adult was at work, making some attempt to keep a roof over our heads and food in our mouths. I can tell this story with complete disconnect, emotionless, state of fact in history. I used to burden the pain of a childhood lost to alcoholism and all that the "disease" encompasses. I guess you would consider it a disease the way it spread in our family, consuming all who were a part of the inner circle.

Now I am left to pick together my life, what I have changed through the vicious circle or recurring familial problems. Avoiding the fate of both my mother and my father, and avoiding a cliche fate of my own in the process. Welcome to my world of my truths, my feelings, my perception. Oh and in the words of some dumb bitch I met, "If you don't like what I say here, don't show up. It's my blog. Super simple."