My Burden

There is a world that doesn’t exist for most people, it’s a harsh one and most don’t believe that it really does happen. The one that I was born into is one of violence, drugs and betrayal at the worst level for any person. My parents showed me the path to being a user, a dependent of substance. I had to reach deep inside of myself to break the cycle they created, and with no one’s help by my own. I meet the devil when I was a child and I will never forget the face of evil. But before I could be at peace with the demons that were given to me by the devil himself. I had to save my mom from his clutches of my father. When my father would explode with hate and anger towards me, his eyes would turn deep red while his pulps would go completely black. There was no real way to see it from the outside unless you where up close to receive the beating from the fists of this madman. Did I ask for it no, but it’s my burden to live with and I put myself in-front of his rage time and time again to protect my sisters. I won’t lie, there are times that I question why Red my older sister left me behind to deal with him on my own, but then again I don’t blame her for escaping when she did. Now there are people that will question what they are reading here and I welcome the questions because I have my own questions for them… Like why didn’t you stop him from nearly killing me several times. How could anyone just let him break my bones and knock me out with his Mike Tyson style boxing moves which happened more often in the later years. I already know and expect for people to read this book and then say that I’m lying or that I’m exaggerating but then again none of those people had to live what I had to live through. I wasn’t the only child but I seemed to be the only child that stayed and tried to help my mom from his beatings. With that being said, this story is one that only I can tell because only I lived my life. There are some people who we’re a part of it but most didn’t see the world through my eyes. I’ve been haunted by it for most of my life, many sleepless nights and even worse for those who shared my life with me. I can’t count how many times I would wake up jumping out of bed ready to protect myself because he loved pulling me out of bed to beat me down. I suffer from PTSD because of what he put me through as well as my mother. When she became violent it was usually in her manic episodes. There is one incident that I will never forget and it’s engraved in my mind. I was 15 when she demanded I give her cocaine but I had to sell the last gram so we could have something to eat. She was so enraged that she grabbed my butterfly knife and as I turned away from her to walk away, she plunged my knife into my left rear thigh cutting me open about five inches and leaving the knife sticking out of my thigh. The only words that came to my mouth was, “You Bitch, with my Butterfly Knife” and I know what your thinking hurry pull it out before it rusts… I tried to walk away and keep my cool but she was in a state of rage and manic, I was left with only one option. I punched her in the face with everything I had and it dropped her giving me enough time to get away. I’m in no way proud of what I had to do to survive but I did it and I would do it again. Don’t even attempt to judge me because no one holds any judgment on me because you weren’t there and you didn’t live what I did. I’ve been told so many times that god only gives you enough that you can handle… Well when I meet my maker, I have a few words and a shit load of crap to dump on him for giving me more than any human should ever have to endure. Not to mention that he has a sick sense of humor to think that a 14 year old should grow up and become an adult let alone deal with the trials and tribulations that I did. Leaving me with the thought, Am I destined to live a life of hatred and misery. The few people that had be unfortunate to share my life with me, my heart goes out to you for they had to deal with my constant self destruction and complete disregard for my life and my loved ones. I wanted to be caught, I wanted my lie that I was living to finally be over. What I didn’t realize is that my world didn’t matter to anyone anymore. No one saw the world as I had for my entire life and the pain that I’ve dealt with was all coming to a boiling point. Instead of fixing it, it was ignored as I came to that rationalization it was already to late. I was born to cocaine addicted parents as well as being alcoholics My father had anger issues steaming from his father and his hard upbringing. My father had very few moments which I cherish greatly but for the most part he was a hard man to deal with. Always resorted to violence to resolve issues. I was thrown into a situation at the age of 13 where I had 2 choices let my mother get beat up or stand up to my father once and for all. Then from I had already been through 2 failed marriages, not to mention the only family that I thought I had was now gone and only seems to care about my money and not me. I filed for emancipation at the age of 15 and thanks to my parents and their inability to be parents I was granted emancipation when I was almost 17. I survived 2 overdoses during my teenage years. I only survived because of my high tolerance to drugs and because of my friends who took care of me while I was at my worst. There was one time at one of my good friends house and another time while at a Rave in the Los Angeles Warehouse Underground. Why I’m not a vegetable right now is beyond me but I’m grateful for having the mind that I have although tortured at times from my memories it’s served me well over the years. I’ve been stabbed by my mom in my leg with my own knife. I’ve been involved in many horrible parts of life that most people never have to see but I will never regret the Underground scene, I truly believe that it saved my life and gave me something to look forward too. Anyone that has lived with someone who is Bi-polar and Manic depression knows that the roller coaster in which you deal with is one that I don’t wish on my worst enemy which is ironic because in my old age of 43 I seem to be stuck in something similar with a step daughter although circumstances are different the writing is on the wall. After my raving was over and my past caught up to me, I did a complete 180 thanks to my Nina for kicking me out and my Nino and other Nina who stepped up and helped me get up off the floor and I’m forever grateful for that. I couldn’t let their trust and belief in me go to waste. I put everything which I knew was within me and with my Nino Carlos, simple question before arriving at my 4th N.A. meeting. He asked me just simply, Do you really need this mijo? That question opened my head and heart to the fact that he believed in me and I showed him that I could do it. Of course this will all be explained more later but if it wasn’t for my Nino asking me the way he did and the fact that my Nina Hilda followed his lead with me… I wouldn’t even be here today. in myself change my future instead of following the same path I was already on. The worst part of this story is even at the age of 43 I’m not learned the biggest part of life… Loving myself and or loving anyone for I was shown the worst way of love through hate. This book is my words of what I went through in life and the breaking the cycle and the cost of breaking that cycle. There are many sides to a story but this one doesn’t have a happy ending but a life of misery and hate. I never took anyones pity, for I was born with too much proud and I’ve suffered a great deal but that is why it’s my burden, My Reason to push forward no matter what. My sisters all though a great deal of drama at times. I love them with all my heart. I’m no hero, saint or even a good man for that matter. I’ve stolen from people and sold drugs to people just to keep moving in a direction which would either kill me or help me survive to live another day. In the end I always had something inside of me that didn’t want to stop living. I love my mom with all my heart and I wanted to help her so much but constantly fell victim to the disease which was killing her slowly. All these years have gone by and I’ve often asked myself why didn’t I do this or that different, but that’s not what I should have been asking myself. I should have been learning from what I went through and just gone on with life. I wasn’t the only child but I often seemed to be the only one to stay with my mother I knew she wasn’t herself and yet I knew that she would need me. I tried my hardest to keep her safe and often lost track of life because of my issues with my parents and I at times allowed my stupidity to take over which lead to many a nights in a drug frenzy with friends. When end in the end, I did it because I’ve seen people idolize my father when he was no saint. Which really drove me to hate him even more because when he left, people helped him and just forgot about what he did to my mother and me. They have often looked at my mother and then just moved on. So I would say my reason is to voice the truth of what they both where in my life and how they destroyed me and then left me alone to figure out life for myself. So I started to learn and quickly figured for myself that I would break the cycle they where pushing on my life. It’s my burden to live with and this and it’s my burden to fight for myself and to break the cycle, unfortunately there is always a price to pay and that is something I learned as well. I hope everyone who reads this is able to take something away from it and does what they can to break the cycle in which they might be stuck in. I broke my father’s cycle and I’ve paid everyday of my life since I did. All in all my reasons are many and my sisters couldn’t be there for my mom so I was and my biggest reason is to tell my story and my mom’s story. As for my final reason is because my son, my prince started asking me questions about my parents because he was being mislead by people who didn’t know my past, so thank you Jeremy for without your curiosity I would have never thought of writing this book.