Where My Life Headed

Early into my discovery of the true world, I was filled with rage. After the rage, I then became overcame with perpetual sadness. During my high school years, I was always a loner who had a friend in Callie. But even during all of the lonesome times, I was never actually too sad. I had not ever been depressed in my life, I just considered myself a different breed of human and I had accepted that. But, after digging deeper and deeper into the whole perspective of life, I realized how truly terrible some humans were.

The people who lead large groups but are in fact terrible people are not the ones who bothered me. The problem I had with the world as I came to know it understand was the mass of people being led through life having no clue what is going on outside of their own lives, and, when brought up, proceed to stick their heads in the sand. The people that decide to not listen, ignore, do nothing, defend, and proceed to do nothing and know nothing about the facts of the world were the ones that tore me apart. Casually trying to have discussions about the world, I was always met with abrupt “that’s not true,” or “that’s not how it is, you got it wrong.” I was much more obliged to be in a discussion who would argue against me rather than choose to ignore what I had presented them with. But, after overwhelmingly facing people who chose to ignore facts, that’s what killed me.

After deciding that this was the true fate of us all, that we would just be rats running on wheels, never really understanding what a human life was, I sunk into a cold depression. At home, my house was a mess. It was Grandma, Mom, and I. If you have ever seen a drug addicts home, whatever you are picturing, that is how ours looked. It was trashed, dishes unclean, and papers everywhere that you would walk. The papers were actually our path to walk on in the house so that we wouldn’t step on whatever lied around on the carpet. The environment was completely hazardous, we were all sick all of the time.

Callie never came over to my house, and we never really talked to each other about our problems, but we were always stressed about the realities of our situations. It didn’t come to a surprise with me that we both were living in rough circumstances. We began our journey to the wonderful realm of drugs. We had smoked cannabis with one another regularly since junior year of high school, and didn’t really consider that realm part of the drug life.

By senior year, my mother relapsed on heroin, and I started back up.

For the next few years of my life, my fear of living got in the way of any aspirations that I had formed in my childhood. Instead of facing the world and proceeding to live my life to the best of my abilities, I dropped out of high school, and moved out of my mom’s house to live at Callie’s trailer park. Her grandmother passed away during our junior year and this is where we began living our Senior Year. We were using heroin practically every day and adding to an even more unhealthy habit of staying put inside the house all day with just our minds and one another.

This was the hole at the center of my life. My mind was gone, I had no spirit, and my body began falling apart.

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