My Story

I came from an underprivileged family of five and my parents struggled financially most of their lives. We lived in trailer parks or small apartments during my childhood, didn’t take vacations, and enjoyed a rather simple life.  My father was a hard-working carpet installer and my mom was always the pm shift waitress. My father had numerous affairs and abandoned my mother many times throughout my childhood leaving her to struggle as a single parent. My father struggled with lust; my mother struggled with alcohol and drug abuse.  She was always trying to get clean, stay clean, or be in some kind of rehab.  Addiction is a bitch. It prowls around like a roaring lion looking to devour families. My father left my mother for our neighbor when I was twelve and she spiraled downhill from that day forward.  I don’t recall ever feeling more important to my mother than her habit, and in hindsight, I was probably chasing my father’s love most of my primary years.

School was always challenging. I was a mediocre student and always felt as if I had to hide the dirty little secret of addiction at home so I never wanted to have friends over. My father was incredibly tough on my brothers and me and I’m sure my brothers would say that we were physically abused.  His method of discipline was spanking us with his belt and would often leave bruises on us. We all recall times when we were embarrassed to change for physical education at school because of the brightly colored marks left on us by his wrath.  I saw way too many things a child should never see and heard way too many things a child should never hear. I dropped out of school in ninth grade, my actual last grade completed was eighth, and got a full-time job as a cashier at fourteen years old with the fake ID that my mother helped me obtain. I went to school in the evenings to receive my GED and left home at the very ripe age of 16 years old. I was completely reliant on myself without guidance.