imadecentcanidateguys - Tumblr blog

[imadecentcanidateguys]

The Other Half of Me

My father was never home as a kid, but I never quite understood why. As a child, I started out growing up in a very nice, two story house with a huge backyard and the seemingly perfect family. But as time past, the less I saw of my father, he was always “out late at work.” Then at the age of 7 7 years old, my world was flipped upside down. We moved to San Antonio and lived in a house that looked as though it was about to fall apart. The walls of the exterior were chipped all around and the roof was terribly slanted in a unnatural, disgusting way. Inside the home, there were dead crickets and cockroaches all over the house and it was terribly small compared to where we lived before. We were forced to live in these horrible and unhealthy conditions until I turned 12 years old. I’m not sure how we managed from moving to a mansion-like house and then to a home that was barely holding itself up. When I entered 5th grade, we moved back to Austin and into a mediocre house. It wasn't even close to the home that seemed like a mansion, but it was better than the roach house. . As my younger brother and I grew up in that (at least to us) perfect house for years and years, with constant happiness, that would all change my sophomore year of high school. I came home from school a little earlier than expected and overheard, “....well how are we going to tell the kids about this separation?” I was stunned and couldn’t believe my ears. After years and years of a happy family. My whole world was gone. Just like that. My parents soon told us they couldn’t be together because of personal reasons but at the end of my sophmoore year, I heard the truth.  My mom needed to talk about her marriage issues and told me that the reason they decided to separate was that because my dad has a drug addict and that the reason we moved out of our huge house and into more unstable houses was because my dad wasted the majority of our money on drugs and also bailing his criminal friends out of jail. I asked my mom, “What drugs has he done…” which she informed me he has done things from marijuana to meth and cocaine. I was in shock that my hero, my role model, my everything was now the reason for my diagnosed depression and anxiety. I never liked admitting who my favorite parent was, but in my heart I always knew that it was my father. But as time has passed since, that soon changed. When I confronted my father about his drug addiction, he was quick to deny it and called my mother a liar and other explicit names. I knew my mother was none of those things, I knew deep down my dad just didn’t have the heart to admit it to his little girl. As time passed, and junior year passed, the divorce was final and my dad finally admitted he was a drug addict to me.I had no idea being a drug addict consisted of lying to family members constantly and choosing other people over family. There are countless times I would have a band performance or competition and my dad would lie to me, telling me he would come and then not show up. After my parents separated, my dad started living in an apartment where he would have sketchy friends stay over or another woman. As I now recall throughout my whole life, I would find my dad sleeping during the day. I remember he had to take me and my brother to school in the morning, and trying to wake him up was a chore! I didn’t know why until my mom told me he slept so much from doing drugs all night. There was another time my mother and I were heading home from church and as I was driving, my mom was in the passenger seat trying to get a hold of my dad but my dad wouldn’t answer. My mom changed the route and instead of heading home, we went to my dad’s apartment where my mom tried knocking and knocking but no answer. My mom would then get in the car and she looked like she was in a very serious phone call. I overheard her giving information about my dad and then found out she was on the phone with the police and that my dad was trying to kill himself. I immediately called my dad and after the second call, he picked up. With a raspy voice I hear from him on the other line, “Hey Sweetie,” to which I quickly interrogated him. “Dad, where are you? Are you trying to kill yourself?” He replied with a sudden sad tone, “...I’m at Walmart...I’m trying to get pills…” I was mixed with rage and sadness all in one. Why would he take his life when he knows he has two children that look up to him whether he’s a drug addict or not. “Dad, you need to get to your apartment immediately, we are worried sick.” Even though I just had my driving permit, my mom didn't want me and my brother to see what was about to unravel. I then left my mom there to speak with the police and went to my house. I waited, too shocked to do anything really. As I was sitting in the living room in a state of shock, my phone rings and it’s my dad. He immediately tells me “Your mother is trying to send me to jail! She called the police to send me to jail!”

I respond, “Dad, she’s just trying to get you help, she was worried and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing my dad say about my mother so I hung up. I knew if I heard anymore, I'd break apart. How can two individuals separate and feel such hatred for one another. After this incident, my dad was sent to a rehabilitation facility where he stayed for a week. I didn’t see my dad for a week. After he was released, he seemed as though he had changed for the better. After a week and then he went back to his old ways. I knew authority or an institution didn’t change him. He was going to have to change himself by his choice. After years of being filled with empty lies, I hope he will change into a better person. He still gives me and my brother false hope here and there, but at least now I know he’s clean. From this experience I learned that change can’t be forced upon someone, it’s the person's choice. And this experience also gave me motivation to be the best person I can possibly be to others because you never know what's going on in their life. My experience in my high school band program has given me hope and experiences while traveling to Indianapolis for a national competition. I found a place that accepts me and understands me.

https://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/drugfacts/understanding-drug-use-addiction

https://medlineplus.gov/magazine/issues/spring07/articles/spring07pg14-17.html

https://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/199409/addiction-whole-new-view

www.EliteRehabPlacement.com