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Hard Life

Essay by   •  June 18, 2011  •  846 Words (4 Pages)  •  1,027 Views

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“Hard Life”

This is a story I’ve been avoiding for a long time. I call this the story of my life. I’ve been through a lot in my life. It’s been filled with a lot of dramatic things most people would never imagine. I never felt it right to verbalize these happenings. Now, I feel it’s time I express these occurrences through a story.

It all starts with my mother and father. I never really knew either of them. I lived with my mother, but I never really knew her. We were very distant people living in the same house. You could not have asked for two more different people. But I’m glad we’re opposites, the one thing in life I want more is to never be like her. I was told my father never had the desire to see me. I was merely an accident from a fling that should have never happened.

Throughout my childhood, I was mostly alone. The only real love I was shown was that of my Grandma. I loved her more than anything in the world. Because despite my mother and father’s dislike for me, I had someone, who cared. She died when I was eight years old. So you can imagine how I felt after that. I had nothing left, the only love I had ever known was gone.

I spent the biggest part of my adolescence, I did things because of my mother. I never want her to know that though. I don’t want her to get any type of joy from the thought of me messing up my life because of her. When she would accuse me of something outrageous, I would do it just so I would at least be being accused of something that actually occurred.

At the age of thirteen, I started ruining my life. My mother accused of being sexually active. At the time I wasn’t, but because she accused me. So I decided it was time to lose my virginity. That was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. It ruined me completely. After I acted upon my decision, I felt empty, useless, I felt like a piece of trash left on the highway. To get that feeling to go away, I used men as my solution. Sex was a daily occurrence for me, because it made me feel useful for a while.

At fifteen, it became even worse. I was accused of using drugs. Again, just to prove everyone right, I started using. I started out small at first. I smoke marijuana a few times a week. I thought it was no big deal, I wasn’t using too often and everyone seemed to be doing it. Then I got a new group of friends. After a while smoking marijuana, I was accepted into a group of friends the community called �druggies’. Once they found out I was sexually active it worsened. They decided to give me stronger drugs,

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