Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

A thanks to those of you who have already sent me emails regarding your personal experiences living in households with parents who were using drugs. I greatly greatly appreciate it, you have no idea.

for those of you that missed my post yesterday, my next essay - Cause and Effect - is the effect that drug-using parents have on their children. one one hand, if you have personal experience, please email me a snippit of your story or observations to aubkabob@comcast.net. if you did NOT personally go through this, but DID witness someone in school or a friend or acquaintence, etc., that did, i would be greatly interested in hearing what you have to say on the matter, as well.

i feel very fortunate that my brother and i had as good of a childhood as we did. part of me wants to say that yes, i would love to have changed certain things, but looking into everything, i really think that because of growing up in the circumstances that we did, that it caused us to be as close as we are now that we're adults.

and i wouldn't change that for the world.

in looking deeper into things, too, i'm wondering if my childhood being the way that it was is partially why i am so socially inept at many things. until i was a mid teenager, there was always so much secrecy in our household, because of my mother/stepfather selling drugs. therefore, i could never invite friends over, was always almost discouraged from making friends with 'normal' children that had straight edged parents who didn't party with my mother. even after hitting mid teens, when it had already been ingrained into me that i was a social failure, i made friends mainly with those that bought drugs from my mother or knew about the situation, but didn't care. looking back, other than my core of teenage friends, i ... didn't really have a lot of friends growing up. thank goodness for raisin. i'm sure that having her around helped to keep me sane ;)


( 15 comments — Leave a comment )
Jan. 26th, 2006 04:21 am (UTC)
i was going to drop in my story but i really dont know that it would help...
Jan. 26th, 2006 04:34 am (UTC)
i think it really really would. part of what i was putting in there was the paranoia that arises from the posibility of being busted and how it causes you to fear figures like the police and such things.

so, if you're willing to share.. :)
Jan. 26th, 2006 03:49 pm (UTC)
I know its innappropriate, but i might just drop it in a comment, its not a secret and if i can just do it in a comment i'll actually get it done. (after coffee)

you could screen it or delete it after you read it if you so desire, but i really dont care, hell i might cross post it in my journal if i like what comes out of my mouth.
Jan. 26th, 2006 04:36 am (UTC)
Bacci comes home so you pick her nose?!? Not nice.

I don't have a story to contribute...but don't forget to perhaps mention that alcohol could also be considered a drug. It would be an additional angle to add, but make sure you do it in such a way that you don't have to write a whole page on alcoholism...because that would just mean you're writing two essays and defeat the purpose of picking one topic...

on second though, forget the alcohol unless you feel like challenging your intellectual and writing skills.
Jan. 26th, 2006 04:41 am (UTC)
i had considered going into that respect, too, but i WOULD have to write an entirely additional essay in order to be able to even scritch the surface of alcoholism. i almost think that writing about that would have been a gazillion times more difficult because alcohol IS a legal drug.

and i almost think that it is much more damaging on families than smoking pot.
Jan. 26th, 2006 04:41 am (UTC)
I will probably contribute something if I can actually sit down to write about it, but I'm tired and a lazy ass ;)
Jan. 26th, 2006 12:45 pm (UTC)
Dad was a drunk when I was little, and one of my closest friends had a mom who was a drunk. She straightend up when she ran over her youngest and Dad straightened up when I kicked his ass at 13.

Never worried about the cops busting us, because it was all quite legal, but one of my first memories is dad intentionally running over my trike because I wouldn't be quiet...

I like my dad now, I don't want to make him the bad guy, we get along great, he's one of my best friends. But when I was little, he was a drunk asshole.
Nov. 7th, 2006 06:04 pm (UTC)
alcohol and drugs can totally change who we are. i wish some people would realize that. i mean, an occasional thing is okay, but when it BECOMES who you are..
Jan. 26th, 2006 01:10 pm (UTC)
I remember the secrecy, and that you didn't "talk" about it, but then again, since that was all I knew, I assumed everyone's parents did this sort of thing! even tho I knew it was wrong, ya know? and since my close friends' (ie you!) parents did the same thing, it encouraged the assuming part. kind of a catch-22, ya know?
Nov. 7th, 2006 06:09 pm (UTC)
i just remember how secretive my mother got and how much she hated and mistrusted the outside world, so i couldn't have friends whos parents DIDN'T do the same thing, because my mother was too afraid they would find out, or that they would be constantly pulling a holier than thou type thing.

which resulted in a lot of loner type activites, when i wasn't around those people or jessie. i think that is partially why i'm so socially awkward.

i'm beyond thankful that i had YOU, though. you and jessie were the only QUALITY friends i ever had.
Jan. 26th, 2006 02:51 pm (UTC)
Impromptu Caption Contest!!!!!

You've got a little something... right ... there.

You're right, it does smell weird after it's been in your belly button.

One meeeeeeeeeellion dollars</a>
Nov. 7th, 2006 06:10 pm (UTC)
Jan. 27th, 2006 01:43 am (UTC)
I'm sure this will be long winded and scattered but take what you want out of it.

I remember feeling like a pretty normal child, sure mom got married twice from the time i was 0-8 (and once before i was born, to my father) Sure, we moved around a bit, Sure... our electricity was turned off and we used a cooler with ice to keep the milk cold for cereal, and burned phonebooks for heat... I felt pretty normal that I only had a mom, and didnt have a father then... I felt like I had something to hide, mostly because we were poor... I didnt feel that way until someone pointed it out in class...

When I was in second grade we moved across town to live with bob. I remember not liking him and not knowing why. When we moved in I took the room that his band used to practice in, band practice moved to the garage, but I could never sleep on nights the band was partying there.
The week of mom and bobs wedding, I cut my bangs to about a quarter of an inch, spikey andrea hair... like a strange childmullet.. (more party than business though.) He yelled at me then, and made me cry until I felt my heart would break. The next morning he appologized... it was the first time he ever appologized.

Everything seemed normal, although I didnt know anyone else who had a step parent. I just had a mean step dad.. everyone knew it, but I felt normal. I had a big group of friends, that were all super lovely..
In fifth grade one evening I was watching tv. It was dark outside. *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* said the door. I arose from the couch thinking about how odd it was that the doorbell hadnt been rung instead. "Open up, its the Police!!" said the voice behind the door. I screamed, "MO-OMMMYYYY" The door was opened, I may have done it, but maybe mom had... the next chunk of time was a blur.... i recoiled onto the big red couch, inconsolable. Men in ski masks and black and orange suits were all over the house, looking in crawl spaces, everywhere. Every few moments one of them would come to stand by me, and talk to me, try to calm me down... but I would just sob louder.
A nice female police officer in a normal uniform came in at some point, in retrospect they may have called her in just to deal with me. She sat and talked to me for a long time, she asked me if I knew what marjuana was. I nodded yes... after all... we were in the middle of DARE class. (drug abuse resistance education)
When I was sufficiently calmed down she walked me around the house, she walked me outside to the shed to show me the giant plant that'd been uprooted and was hanging upside down. She asked me if I'd known it was there, but I hadn't know! How could I have NOT known?
My parents were jailed for a night, I stayed with my step grandparents.
When I returned to school, a friend said they'd driven by and seen all the police cars, and when i wasnt in school the next day.. they feared something awful had happened.
I made some lame excuse involving my step brother (bob had three adult children by that time)
Of course, during DARE class, a boy I had a big crush on, stood up and announced to the whole class that there'd been a drug bust at my house, "your DAD did it" he said.
"It couldnt have been MY father," I said defensively,"my FATHER is in PRISON, in Texas."
Funny that I'd rather tell my class mates that my father was a convict in a texas prison than fess up to what the mean step father had done.

after this, as I grew up, I noticed pot in the house every once in a while... once i'd knocked a clock down and there was some hidden behind it....

I dont remember the smell or parties, or out of control behaviour... even AFTER it happened everything seemed okayish.

Later I remembered that I didnt have friends over much, especially not to stay the night..
When I started driving I really noticed my phobia of cops.. thhis awful, awful paranoia of law enforcement. When I spot one, I get so anxious, my heart stops, I cant breathe, I can hardly keep control of my car.... my heart pounds for many moments afterwards.... anyone in the car with me wonders why i've gone silent, and possibly swerved all over the road...

Nov. 7th, 2006 06:17 pm (UTC)
i used to feel really uneasy around police officers, and i still do to a point, though i find myself cheering them on more than anything else "THANKS FOR KEEPING US SAFE!!". silly. granted, i don't do any illegal activities anymore...

i was also going to go into a gigantic tirade about my childhood, but you pretty much know all of it.

shoot. there was something else i was going to say, too, but now i can't think of it.
Jan. 27th, 2006 03:39 pm (UTC)
When is the paper due? Would love to help you but dont have time to type it up right now.. LMAO shouldnt even be looking on here right now LOL.. Hope your having a good day!
( 15 comments — Leave a comment )


disco star
Ticklebuddy Wonderpoo

Latest Month

October 2014


Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Ideacodes