Um...Yeah.
So Wednesday evening, around 5pm, my mom and I are driving to pick Chloe up before class.
Out of nowhere(well actually probably out of somewhere, but nowhere to me), my mom decides to tell me my father used heroin a number of times.
That he never got hooked. But I wonder if he didn't get hooked, why'd he keep doing it? Maybe he just wasn't horribly hooked like most people get.
She then tells me that she told him she wanted to try it. For him to bring her home some. He comes home and tells her he used it all. Because he didn't want her to take it. He had known this beautiful, sweet woman get hooked on heroin and turn into a whore and a completly disgusting person. He didn't want that happening to my mom.
I don't know why this is hitting me so hard. Maybe because heroin is scary, and disgusting. And my mom came close to getting on it.
Though my whole saddness is structured on if's and would's.
What if she had taken it?
Would I or my brother or sister have been born?
Would she have lived?
I'm crying because those thoughts, those would's and if's scare me beyond death. I know nothing happened, my father was sort of smart and didn't let my mother take it. But it still scares me. And perhaps there is something deeper than just this, that it hits. I think that's it. There's something this subject struck that kicked me into a hole deeper.
It still scares me because of those wonder-ings, and those would's, and if's.
It also scares me because my mom is fucked up anyway. And when she tells me she almost chokes because she falls asleep with food in her mouth and it slides down her throat, causing her to suffocate, that makes me want to cry and scream and hit her, trying to get some fucking sense into her all at once. It terrifies me, because I love her so much. She is what, I think will be one of the hardest things for me to clear out.
I feel like I want to never stop crying, and throw up and sleep at the same time.
Please don't worry, I'm all right. Just getting it out.
Out of nowhere(well actually probably out of somewhere, but nowhere to me), my mom decides to tell me my father used heroin a number of times.
That he never got hooked. But I wonder if he didn't get hooked, why'd he keep doing it? Maybe he just wasn't horribly hooked like most people get.
She then tells me that she told him she wanted to try it. For him to bring her home some. He comes home and tells her he used it all. Because he didn't want her to take it. He had known this beautiful, sweet woman get hooked on heroin and turn into a whore and a completly disgusting person. He didn't want that happening to my mom.
I don't know why this is hitting me so hard. Maybe because heroin is scary, and disgusting. And my mom came close to getting on it.
Though my whole saddness is structured on if's and would's.
What if she had taken it?
Would I or my brother or sister have been born?
Would she have lived?
I'm crying because those thoughts, those would's and if's scare me beyond death. I know nothing happened, my father was sort of smart and didn't let my mother take it. But it still scares me. And perhaps there is something deeper than just this, that it hits. I think that's it. There's something this subject struck that kicked me into a hole deeper.
It still scares me because of those wonder-ings, and those would's, and if's.
It also scares me because my mom is fucked up anyway. And when she tells me she almost chokes because she falls asleep with food in her mouth and it slides down her throat, causing her to suffocate, that makes me want to cry and scream and hit her, trying to get some fucking sense into her all at once. It terrifies me, because I love her so much. She is what, I think will be one of the hardest things for me to clear out.
I feel like I want to never stop crying, and throw up and sleep at the same time.
Please don't worry, I'm all right. Just getting it out.