Parents are people that construct your life boundaries , pieces are put in place so they can try to generally place you on a path that you reach the goal they set for you. My parents kind of got lost in their way and I fell off the path and decided to make another one that I mistakenly thought would be a foundation for a decent life , boy was I completely wrong. My parents dealt with addiction issues since their teen years , father felt alcohol was a suit that would ease the rough edges of his life, while my mother jumped head first into pain killers. Before I start this blog I would like to make something very clear , this blog isn’t a hateful one or to try to justify my many heartache moments in my life that was caused by them because in all reality I’ve accepted who my parents are/were. Everyone wants to change something about their parents it can range from eye color to something so detailed orientated , some people genuinely love their parents to the minor detail. I however was always aware what they are , the positive and negative. I don’t shun one harder than the other I’m comfortable on the people they are. Who they shaped me to be a man that is completely destroyed and is determined to change.
Mother was loving at first caring you can say , having three sons from three different men can fill a room with words without even saying a syllable. The first born Christopher her pride enjoy , the rightful heir to her kingdom attached to the hip since day one. She thought his father was the one I imagine , her first in everything , love , stability and comfort. Christopher was the golden child well that’s what she thought to her last breath on April 17th. Christopher and her relationship was naturally loving simply pure until she knew he was easily manipulated because at the end of the day she was perfect in his eyes , nothing she did was vile. They would go on shopping sprees , nail salon appointments together , go out to eat and see the newest movies together. Some times I wonder if she seen him as a “ girlfriend ” before her son, mind you Chris is a gay man and when I say gay I mean GAY ! Something she knew since she gave birth , mother always wanted a girl and god gave her Chris. He would wear her shoes and wrap shirts on his head and sing Selena songs while watching himself in the mirror. Chris was full of life because at the end of the day mother loved him , until he started making decisions on his own. Mother used psychological warfare on Chris when she felt her grasp was being loosen, she knew where to hit with her words to make him feel small again.
Mother had me at 22 two in half years after Christopher with my father, a man that she completely loved , admire and cared for deeply. From family members they were the complete package , my father did everything for her. I was fathers 4th child and she was his 3rd baby mother and if that doesn’t scream toxic then I don’t know what else would. They went from loving each other being with each other completely inseparable to hating one another and mother and I didn’t get along at all. I was reminded of what she couldn’t save and I felt every wrath of it. Unlike Chris I didn’t go to the movies with her , I didn’t go shopping with her , it was more of I’m abide by the law to take care of you because you are my child. Mother and I never really got a long because unlike Chris I knew what she was from the beginning a vile creature that was made up from darkness because life wasn’t kind to her. She would pick on me and remind me that I was just like my father and clearly that wasn’t a complement it was a weapon that she thought a 12 year old boy would understand but in reality it was giving her enjoyment. Mother and I would argue about the things she thought was too little to talk about , like how Chris had freedom and I didn’t , I wanted to join the basketball team something I was very well in and she said no just to see the hurt on my face. Chris got to pick the new dogs name and I didn’t have a input. Starting to plant my doubt in my brain something she was almost perfect at.
Mother had her youngest at 30 her newest addition now at this point mother is married to a man that has issues with addiction deep into a very dark addiction , mother was riding along with him. The new addition was so precious , so innocent like a nice breeze on a very humid day , almost refreshing. Her mother instincts were back the loving mother that Chris was so honored to have and something I desperately needed. Unfortunately it didn’t last long it went away quicker than it came and next thing I know I was taking care of a new born, feeding him , changing him and the very least making sure he knew what love was. I envy him in times because I wanted to feel loved and appreciated but I knew that my time never came and it sure wasn’t coming now. So I enjoyed my little brother watched spongebob with him every. single. day. Fed him and sat back and enjoyed the milestone he accomplished. I prayed at night that he would be saved from her scorn, her path of destruction. He was my responsibility on some level I had to make sure that he would have a fighting chance like Chris did , made sure he didn’t miss out on what I missed out. I remember when he spilled oil all over his body because the lack of supervision in our household was almost nonexistent, I still remember him warbling into the living room , eyelids heavy coated with cooking oil and his face as calm as ocean wave. God I kiss those times where he would cuddle under my armpit and just stare into me , always felt like he was telling me he loved me.
At one point our living situation was disgusting and unsuitable to raise kids in , addiction fully had control our step siblings went back with their mothers full time because at this point the violent beatings were too much to handle. I grew close to my step siblings because Chris and I were like oil and water and my older step siblings were more my type of people. My step brother like dragon ball z and he introduced me into anime something that I still watch. My step sister brought me into a world where laughter and being goofy could be attractive trait. My younger step siblings were my world the twins , one loved Michael Jackson and the other so protected of his siblings brought security to the table. I hold them close to my heart but the turmoil that our respective parents caused derailed our paths. Now we’re strangers people walking past each other like our past is nonexistent. We have mutual friends and I always show love to them but it’s their like a heavy blanket , the elephant in the room but we’re older now we have kids we don’t have time to mend broken bridges. I enjoy the surprises when I go into a public place and their there is refreshing. A reminder that one point it wasn’t so bad. It was sustainable.
Mother moved the mattress from their bedroom into the living room and that’s where it stayed until the removal. She stopped doing every day functions , showering , cooking and cleaning. It felt like she gave up. Chris and her was still connected to the hip and I was just there , living in my own world waiting nervously when the next strike would hit. Waiting to be barked at like some second class citizen, she was angry towards me because I didn’t believe in her fantasy anymore I knew what monster she was and I was done. I was fed up could you imagine a ten year old trying to find the long way home because the thought of going home made his stomach hurt. Scared to turn the corner because of the thought she standing there with her red hair in a bun while smoking a cigarette gave me the pit in my stomach that I still feel today at almost 30 years old. I wanted to be free from her I prayed for her death , I prayed for someone to come and rescue me but sadly I wasn’t nearly close to the end. Mother would always know how to ruin a moment it was like her superpower and it always felt like she zoned in on me , it could stopped my day out a damper on things and she thrived on it. I could be doing something so simple like play basketball in our backyard and she would say “ Shawn you’re not good stop it “, the world would stop and next thing I knew I didn’t like basketball as much or I wasn’t allowed outside anymore.
My father was a every other weekend dad and I used to look forward to them because it was my escape, going to his house and being surrounded by my family that shared the same last name as me gave me liberty , justification that I was enough. Playing sports with my cousins , riding my bike all over town , felt like summer vacation all year long. Family bbq’s late, night porch talks hanging out in the stoop it was life. Fathers house was the place to be unlimited food no bedtimes I was a king. My father and I were the best of friends at one point , inseparable two peas in a pod. I was his mini it was against the world. I was validated to highest regard , we would talk about movies , music and most importantly comic books. I thought he was a genius when it came to them , he knew everything from storylines to publishing dates the man was unstoppable with it. I loved hearing about all the characters and everything. He made me a 49er fan , Star Wars fan , I can name every number one album from golden era hip hop because of him. Father was that guy. We did everything together from watching cops every Friday night with a hot pizza pie just laughing and just making sure I was good. If I could go back to any moment it would be a Friday night at dads house just him and I. Something so pure so original to now something that is broken , In redeemable.
Father has five kids and his secret of being a father of five is simple ; not being able to love more than one kid at a time. I’m guessing he learned that from what he thought was being shown from his mother , a woman that had eight kids working two jobs and also taking care of a very sick adult. So in his defense what he felt like she was doing he did with his own. When he found out that amount of abuse that was happening at mothers house he became outrage , violent and angry. Father was known to be aggressive and enjoyed hurting other people. When things got out of hand I was removed from mothers care and into his. I was ecstatic to finally be with my bestfriend to be away from the tyrant. Unfortunately my path didn’t really have a lot of happiness carved into the foundation, I remember he met a woman that I automatically didn’t like because I knew it was going to ruin what I finally prayed for that I was so eager to have and it was going to go away as fast as it came. She became pregnant and soon they were married. Now I already had a bad experience with a step parent and I wasn’t really particularly excited for a new one. She got on my nerves plain and simple , I’ll keep it short and sweet. Father ended up having a son and shortly after that fathers marriage was falling apart so guess who had to quit football to help with the child. Once again losing interest into something I was excited about for the sake of what ever father was holding on too.
My distaste for her was growing rapidly and father was well aware of it. At least with mother physical abuse was her thing but not him he loved the mental abuse. Saying things “ You’ll go before she will “ something that I thought was ludicrous but unfortunately he was serious. I was sidelined being pushed to the side that showed all signs of a failed marriage. Now mind you I was feeling like I was saved , hope was he restored. I had it for two years then it was gone , slipped through my fingers like water on a cracked window , slowly passing the open space realizing that I couldn’t stop it. Kicked out at 16 while fighting my own addiction problems, trying to figure out the big bad world all alone. Failing to have one good thing something I took in defeat because at 16 I felt I lived through four life times. Maybe happiness wasn’t in the cards but how can my parents treat me like complete dog shit, like I was an option to them. How can two people that were supposed to take care me failed to do it when they easily showed they could’ve. Was I the problem ? Was I the one they truly never wanted?
Uncertain Changes 