Discovery

I was in 10th grade.  We were living in the apartment we moved to after my brother's dad told my mom he was in love with another woman.  Somehow I thought if we got away from him things would get better.  I guess I was just hoping.  My mom was still working as a waitress & she was gone a lot.  After work most times she would go out to Wild West, a Country Western bar.  One night she ran into an old "friend" and he ended up back at our apartment.  I remember his face.  He was younger than my mom & quite a good looking guy.  His name was Chris.  Chris was there for a few days & then he wasn't.  My mom was in her bedroom & I heard her yell for me.  Apparently the rent money in her armoire was gone.  She asked me if I'd seen it and of course I hadn't.  I learned at that time that Chris was addicted to crack cocaine.  He had stolen my mom's money.

I don't remember how much time had gone by between the time Chris left & I made my discovery.  It couldn't have been that long.  I remember my mom was acting very strange.  I always knew when she was high & I knew what kind of drugs she was on.  Her drug of choice was cocaine.  She snorted it mostly, I think.  I told you about the needles, but I think snorting was the main mode of ingestion.  This was different.  The look in her blank eyes was different.  I started snooping as I often did.  She did not have control over me.  The roles were reversed in this apartment.  I was the mom, she was the child.  I was yelling at her & questioning her.  She never told the truth, but the truth has it's way of coming out.  I looked underneath her bathroom sink and there it was.  The truth was under her bathroom sink.  The reason for her soul being gone. It was a coke can, a coke can with a hole in it.  It had ashes on top of it.  My heart sank, I knew this was irreversible.  I cried, yelled & screamed.  I wanted someone to wake me from this nightmare, but no one did.  My mom was smoking crack cocaine out of that can.  What was I going to do?  What were her children going to do?

You see, friends, there are levels of narcotics.  Pot?  Yeah, that is acceptable.  It makes you sleepy, unmotivated to do anything with your life & you may think shows like South Park are cool to watch.  You will laugh your ass off at a cartoon.  A stupid.  Cartoon.  Ecstasy?  Yep, this one is cool, too.  You are in love with everyone you see.  Life is good.  No pain.  No worries.  All the cool kids are doing it.  Cocaine?  Now this is kinda okay.  Well it depends.  How often are you doing it?  Just on the weekends?  Well that's okay.  It's just recreational.  BUT, CRACK COCAINE?  Only people on the streets smoke crack cocaine.  This is not a white man's drug.  Crack is a monkey you cannot get off your back.  He will stay there and not budge.  He will steel your possessions, your life.  He will ruin you.  There is no such thing as recreational crack use.  There is no holding a job, supporting your kids, being a mom.  It is all over.  And I was 16 & I knew that.  I knew this was the end.*

I can't remember exactly how long we lived with my mom when she was under the influence of crack cocaine.  It seemed like an eternity before someone came & removed us from that mess.  You would think the only family we had was our mother.  People knew what was going on in that house & no one came for us.  They knew my mom was unstable & they did nothing.  They carried on with their lives, consumed with making sure everyone knew their family and it's members were normal.  What a freaking joke.  Read these words clearly.  NONE OF YOU ARE NORMAL, YOU ARE ALL SO SICK.  You are grown ups and you are all completely fucking clueless.  My mom was a burden, the bad one & her kids by default were also bad.  They weren't worth investing in or saving.  That's how the family members that did not come for us made me feel.  Like we were not worthy.  Even now when something goes wrong it is not anyone else's fault, but my mom's.  Someone could murder someone else and her family would say "Well it's L's fault."  Come on people, wake up!!  Not everything is L's fault.  The rest of your family is crazy, too.  There is enough crazy for each person to get some of the blame.  Oh wait I have an idea.  It's a good one & I came up with it all by myself.  How about you all stop blaming everyone else for the issues going on in this sorry excuse for a family.  How about you look in the mirror.  How about you hold the person cussing you out on the phone accountable for his actions.  No, that would be impossible.  He may take you on a vacation, can't burn those bridges.  SICK!**

That apartment was filled with many people at any given time.  It was mostly black guys, they would sleep on the floors of our apartment.  My mom was selling our food stamps in exchange for drugs.  I remember one day our cabinet was pretty bare.  I was working at a local mexican restaurant as a hostess so I had a little bit of money.  I asked someone to take me to Food Town (remember those?).  I went & purchased a few things, but the one thing that stands out in my mind was Lemon cookies.  I like lemon cookies now, but I'm not sure I even like them then.  I came home & my wallet was on the kitchen counter.  I was putting the groceries away.  I was about to go to my room & I remembered I needed to grab my wallet.  It was gone.  My wallet was just on the counter & now it is not.  Where in the hell is my wallet?  It had $20 in it & I need it.  I asked my mom if she had seen it & she said she hadn't, but that she would help me look for it.  She helped me look for my wallet.  The one that she stole.  I mean couldn't you just take the money?  No, she wanted me to feel like I lost my wallet.  That wallet was never returned to me, although my mom did admit to me later that she did in fact steal it.

Have a great day, friends!

Alicia

*I hope my sarcasm is duely noted.  I do not endorse or agree with any drug use.  Drugs are drugs, one is no better than the other.

**I am cussing a lot here & I realize that some people who are reading may be offended.  I am angry still about a lot of things that went on in my childhood.  This is my release, my outlet, my therpay.  If you are offended I suggest you stop reading.