I was writing an e-mail to a new e-mail buddy of mine and he said he wanted to know a bit about my life..so..I decided to talk about it. Here ya go…

Right now I live with my boyfriend. It is difficult living on our own, you know? Very different from being a kid and many times I find myself thinking about my childhood and just..yearning to be a child again in the arms of my mom. My mother and I have a SUPERB relationship. She is my BEST friend in the whole world. Shes my hero.

Now, prepare for the story of my father. Whew. Ok….this is a bit emotional for me…but I share it with people because everything that has happened in my life has played a huge role in who I am…and this includes my father. Let me begin by saying that I love my dad. There have been times in my life where I needed him very much as a father, but now that I am an adult…I need him as a friend. I miss him so much.
I lived with my mom and dad until I was about 7 years old. Maybe 8. I had a happy childhood with the looming sense that SOMETHING was wrong. Something just wasnt right in our household and my mother did an amazing job at sheltering me from the heartbreak that was going on in my house as a child.
My father was and still is an intravenous heroin addict. It breaks my heart just to write it. I want to go back and delete it over and over again but the absence of the words does nothing for the reality of the situation. When my parents were divorced, I didnt see my father for years. All the sudden I got a letter from him that said he was living in Florida with his parents. So, during the summers I would go down and visit him.
He had a new girlfriend by this time. Her name was Kay. I went down to Florida on Christmas, to spend Christmas with my father. Well, when I woke up on Christmas morning…he was gone. I figured hed be coming back soon so I just sat and listening to my cd player. A lot of hours passed and he wasnt home yet. It was dark. I got bored and decided to clean the house as a gift, when I got finished mopping the kitchen floor I sat down to get some rest and then I thought I heard his truck pull up..so I ran through the kitchen..slipped on the wet floor..and busted my head open on the side of the refrigerator. Yeah, thats kinda funny, lol. He didnt come home until about 11 or so that night.
I dunno where he was. Dont care anymore.
Well, after that he moved back to Tennessee, married another woman and I went to his house every other weekend and things seemed pretty normal. He invited me and my cousin to go on a camping trip with him, and my aunt and uncle. I could sense that things werent right with him. I am imagining now that this was the time he was in the throws of his addiction and he brought me right into the middle of it, which, I should be very angry at…but I forgive him. Well, everything was fine until we all went on a hiking trail and about..halfway through the hiking trail we turned around and my daddy was gone. We all ran around and screamed his name over and over but we couldnt find him. So we just went back to the camp site and called the police. My aunt and uncle drove us to their house where my mom came and picked us up. All I could think was that my father had let me down again.
He disappeared again after that. The next time I was to see him I was 16 years old..almost 17. I heard a knock at the front door and it was my father! And, his new girlfriend. We didnt talk about all the bad times..we never did. He just made promises that he would stick around, be a part of my life, yadda yadda. I visited him a couple times in Oklahoma. I even went over there for Christmas when I was 17.
My dad was acting..very..very strange. More strange than id EVER seen him before. Something really shady was going on. I could tell. By this time I had learned of his drug use and I sort of understood what was going on. But, once again, in the throws of his addiction..he brought me in. To most people this would seem crazy but I know he did it just because he missed me and he wanted to see his little girl.
Anyway, I had bought some hair dye at the store and wanted to dye my hair one night so I was in the bathroom dying my hair and I stepped up onto the top of the toilet to reach the cabinet and for some weird reason I picked up all the towels and I found a needle, a spoon, a lighter, and one full baggie and a few baggies with residue. I wasnt angry. I was just heart broken again. Hed broken my heart again, but thats ok. I confronted him about it and he just said he was using the needles to inject the dog with something (they didnt even have a dog). Ugh. His rage started to go above and beyond. I heard him on the phone with my mom, and my mom must have KNOWN something was going on by the way he sounded. Well, I heard my dad scream “IM GONNA DROP HER OFF AT YOUR GOD DAMNED DOORSTEP.” He was obviously talking about me, but because he screamed at my mom..that really pissed me off and I said to him “Who do you think you are? You are so fucked up on whatever dope youre pushing into your veins that you dont even realize who youre talkin to. Youre talkin to the woman who raised me ..you have nothing to do with it. You didnt raise me youve hurt me constantly.” Well, he began to throw all of my belongings in trash bags, put them in the back of his truck..took me to the airport and I flew home, heartbroken again.
Well, I gave him another chance. And, this is the most painful for me. The next Christmas I wanted to go see him again. He lived in Oklahoma so my mom was going to drive me halfway and dad would drive halfway to pick me up. So, I get there to load my things into his car..everything was fine. About 15 minutes into the trip with my dad..he started to “nod off” (fall asleep) at the wheel due to his drug use. He was high. He was swerving off the road and I got really scared and I said…”Dad if you dont pull over and get you something to wake you up..im gonna call the cops..and call mom or something because im scared” so he reached in the backseat like he was gonna hit me or something and so I opened the car door. He just..grabbed me by my neck and threw me out of the moving vehicle. I only had my cellphone and a book. Everything else I had taken…he took. My guitar, my boots, and a pillow that my deceased grandmother made me when I was a baby. It was all gone and there I was..alone..in Arkansas. I called my mom and she called the nearest police department. I started walking back to where we had come from. I walked for a few miles and a state trooper found me. Took me to the police station and my mom drove all the way back and picked me up there.

I havent seen or spoken to my father since. So, thats that I guess, huh? Lol.