The Seasons
Growing up in Ohio, life is all about the seasons. We grew up in west Chester. It started out as a sleepy little suburb with big yards. Our parcel used to be part of a farm an a piece of barb wire fence still existed in the back at the end of the property. The 1/4 acre lots seems especially spacious in comparison to our outer San Francisco shack we call a home. The thing I miss the most in California is the seasons.
My mother grew up splitting time between New York and Florida. My father was from rural Kentucky. They were an odd match. I think he was more in his element in the outdoors. She enjoyed the suburban existence but had a neurotic fear of driving which made sprawl uncomfortable for her. Many were the days I resented her for not being willing to drive us somewhere. Last year, I had a massive panic attack while driving my mini- van. The past repeating itself.
I realize as an adult my mother had some type of anxiety disorder and my father was a late in life alcoholic. He was the stoic sort that was quick with a joke and withheld most of his opinions. She was funny and never held back what she thought. Until the day she died, she thought I needed to get my hair curled and wear more make- up. It makes me laugh when I think about it.
Seasons are like moods. Our life is colored by our environment. Beyond watching sports, raking leaves, shoveling snow, and getting a tan in the yard a season means more time has passed. A chance to heal, a chance to gather my thoughts. I miss laying in the tall grass in my parents yard, staring at the clouds. When I look at the shapes form, l believe I can be happy. I can escape in to my thoughts. I love to hear the crickets. No shoes, no restrictions. No arguing. My favorite season. My mood. My thought of promises never kept in the clouds.
California life is very different. Strawberry picking with my kids is my favorite. I'm making new season flavored memories.
My mother grew up splitting time between New York and Florida. My father was from rural Kentucky. They were an odd match. I think he was more in his element in the outdoors. She enjoyed the suburban existence but had a neurotic fear of driving which made sprawl uncomfortable for her. Many were the days I resented her for not being willing to drive us somewhere. Last year, I had a massive panic attack while driving my mini- van. The past repeating itself.
I realize as an adult my mother had some type of anxiety disorder and my father was a late in life alcoholic. He was the stoic sort that was quick with a joke and withheld most of his opinions. She was funny and never held back what she thought. Until the day she died, she thought I needed to get my hair curled and wear more make- up. It makes me laugh when I think about it.
Seasons are like moods. Our life is colored by our environment. Beyond watching sports, raking leaves, shoveling snow, and getting a tan in the yard a season means more time has passed. A chance to heal, a chance to gather my thoughts. I miss laying in the tall grass in my parents yard, staring at the clouds. When I look at the shapes form, l believe I can be happy. I can escape in to my thoughts. I love to hear the crickets. No shoes, no restrictions. No arguing. My favorite season. My mood. My thought of promises never kept in the clouds.
California life is very different. Strawberry picking with my kids is my favorite. I'm making new season flavored memories.
tracey you would probably not believe it but i once was a pretty smart kid. then i started getting messed up on mdma then snorting speed then smoking meth - all the while i earned my BA under thr house of my cluess parents. once my drug use became too obviois to all i got kicked out of my psrents and was doig mass binges of mdma, meth, benzos, cocaine, ghb and oxycontin/hydromorhone - daily . this lasted about a year as i destroyed my credit and stole to pay for it . eventally landed in rehab but what good was it? ive cooked myself. i i tried to go back to school in an accelerated stream (bach science) to become a nurse with hopes of working in harm reduction but i couldnt keep up with the workload and dropped out. i am a completely useless braindead 27 year old. why stay sober when i feel dead inside? what meaning is there to life if i cannot help others? ive squandered my most precious gifts. and things arent getting better, they only grt worse. many nights i wake up an have no clue where i am - ive lived in over 20 places in the last year from shelters to transitional housing to detox to buddys couch. this wasnt supposed to be my life. what a loser i have become
ReplyDeleteThe filmmaker from black tar heroin told me I was the last person he ever thought would get clean. I think the brain needs time to recover, especially from particular drugs you mentioned. I heard voices the first two years I was clean and often couldn't complete a sentence. Give yourself time and a space to heal. 27 is when my life started.
Deleteoh yeah - i wrote to you cause i, like countless others where moved by the documentary and inspired by your success, though my demon was crystal meth not heroin. still , i imagine it must get tiring day in and day out to read messages like this. thank you for reading though. it is family day here in canada , and so i wish you and your family a happy family day. and god bless.
ReplyDeleteIt wasn't covered in the film but I was a heavy crystal meth user. The period where I was with Ben especially. I was up for almost 16 days in 1992. Really, I can understand a little and wish you well.
DeleteMy mom always says that she was painfully shy. This is why she didn't befriend my friends mothers, or take us trick or treating. This is why she didn't so many things for us that I wish she had. It wasn't until recently that I realized that her "shyness" was actually a really terrible anxiety disorder.
ReplyDeletethanks for sharing
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