

# Turn Around: Life's Testimony

Waneda S. Jackson

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Waneda S. Jackson

All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the author.

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# Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Diary Excerpts

# Chapter 1

Well, my life hasn't been a picnic on the beach, I can tell you that much. Wow, where can I start? There are so many things to tell... I guess the best thing to do is start at the beginning.

I was born June 21, 1976 in Chicago, Illinois. I was 7pounds 3 ounces. My mom said I was born with my eyes open and they were trembling. I had a head full of black, curly hair. My mother, Darcel and father, Walter both said I looked like my Aunt Karen when she was a baby.

When I was a child, I was really smart for my age. That's hard to believe huh? I know you are probably thinking, "What happened" right? My father said I could have flourished mentally if I had the proper schooling but I found that life is full of "what if's".

Anyway, I really do not remember when I began to read, write or count, my mom said I was four. My sister Ke-Ke taught me because we played school all the time and she was always the teacher.

I do, however, remember the first book I read. It was, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I was about seven. After that, I was really into Nancy Drew.

I have always had a fixation with reading. I would sit on the throne and read the newspaper on the floor. My mom put it down to soak up the water because the toilet leaked. I would also read the Encyclopedia Britannica. Back then I wanted to know about so many things. The encyclopedia entertained me for hours.

I loved school. I loved learning. I still do. I do not think that will ever change. I will probably be in school all my life. Who knows?

I guess it will really surprise a lot of people when I tell them that I failed the second grade. I did not fail because I was stupid or anything. I had a crush on a boy and I did not do the work. I still remember his name. It was Robert. He was so cute. He was light skinned and had naturally curly hair. I would just sit and stare at Robert. He was my first crush. We played footsy under the desk all day.

The teacher was going to pass me anyway because we received our report cards on my birthday. Mommy wasn't having that, so I failed. Now that I look back I can appreciate the morality in that, but the butt whipping that came along with it was a doosy. I got a triple whammy that day; I didn't pass; I got my butt whipped; I didn't get anything for my birthday. Sometimes, it sucks being a kid.

I loved life when I was really young. It was fun and adventurous. I loved catching lighting bugs and grasshoppers. I put them in glasses with grass. I was a tomboy.

My mother, back then, was the best mother on earth. We were very poor. Most of the time there was no heat or food. A lot of the times we grew, but our clothes didn't. The pants I had were so small that they cut into my stomach. Now I have a permanent... Well let's just say, my stomach can smoke a cigarette.

We didn't realize how poor we really were, my sister and I. Well, my mom did. She tried to make the best of a bad situation. We were together and that was all that mattered at that time.

My mother's first husband, Otis was ok. Going back to that time in my head, we had a great time. I think she met him when we lived on Francisco. That is on the west side of Chicago.

I was really young at the time. My mom sold drugs to make ends meet from what I was told. We were getting along just fine until my sister, Ke-Ke, burned down the house.

I will never forget that day. Ke-Ke was on punishment because she had a severe bed-wetting problem. She had to stay in our room with her wet underwear on her head so you know she was not happy.

My mother told me to "Go check on Ke-Ke". I went into the room and we began playing around for a few minutes. Ke-Ke told me to "watch this". She lit a match and threw it into the toy box. Next thing I know, we were running and screaming. In a panic my mother threw mop water on the fire and it did not take long to spread because of the chemicals in the water.

We lost everything. All my mother could do was cry. Boy was pissed. She couldn't even whip us because she felt, at that moment she would kill us. My Auntie Linda had the task of handing down the beatings.

I tried to tell them what happened. I did not start the fire but I was the first to get beat. When it was my sisters' turn she told the truth. It was too little too late. I am still waiting on ice cream, a food stamp or something for my pain.

When we moved on we moved to a French basement on Carol. Life was slumber parties and being baby sitted by our cousins while our parents hung out. It was all family though. That was the best part.

The slumber parties were awesome! We had pizza and a house full of girls. I went to the bathroom during one of these slumber parties and discovered that all chocolate is not good for you. I found Ex-Lax on the windowsill and consumed the whole pack. I was on the throne of grace all night and the better half of the next day.

We went to church every Sunday. I was in the choir and my sister was an usher. I had choir rehearsal on Saturdays and we also got our hair done on Saturday nights. I remember hot combs and bows. I despised the stocking cap because it was often too tight.

Sundays, I remember "FOOD" and lots of it. Big Mama and Little Mama had the basement smelling really good! BOY! Let me tell you something; that chicken they would make, it was just for me. At least, that's what I thought.

One Sunday, the pastor was going around the church asking everyone, "Why do you come to church"? Everyone gave the usual answer, " I come to church to praise the Lord". He gets to me. He asked, "Why do you come to church"? Me, with my 5-year-old mind said, "to eat". Typical, I was tiny and in love with fried chicken.

We were disciplined at times. When Otis whipped us, he would sit down and put our head between his legs. This method put the butt right at eye level.

I bit the mess out his behind one time though. I had broken the needle on my mothers' record player. I used to rub my finger against it because I liked the sound it made.

Otis usually handed out the whippings so I knew what was coming. I had the bubble guts all day waiting for him to get home. He put my head between his legs and I bit him. He never whipped me like that again and I never messed with my mother's stereo again either.

Moms and OD divorced after she had Timothy. My brother died because mommy had gestational diabetes. He was over 13 pounds and not fully formed. There was not much known about diabetes back then. My mommy donated his body to science so that scientist could study him and learn more about the disease.

We were on our own again. It was fun for a while. I began to dislike school because I was getting picked on every other day about my too small clothes. They called me " Raggedy Jackson". I also spoke proper English and that also caused a problem. I was told I sound white. I never knew there was such a thing as "sounding white". I thought I sound intelligent.

My mother was always at the school. I went to Biedler Elementary School on the west side at the time. She participated in a lot of things. She really was hands- on when we had assemblies. She made paper roses and helped decorate.

My cousin Ne-Ne would come over on the weekends. I thoroughly enjoyed watching Ke-Ke and Ne-Ne grow up.

Ne-Ne and Ke-Ke fought constantly. I remember they were fighting over a piece of bread one time. It was so funny. I am laughing even as I write this.

Anyway, my Auntie Rena would often withhold food from them. She told them they were too "fat". I on the other hand, was very skinny. So I could eat whatever I wanted. Auntie Rena gave them one piece of bread. It was survival of the fittest to claim it and they went at it.

They were really tussling. All of a sudden Ke-Ke hauls off and hit Ne-Ne in the eye with the bread. I died laughing. They look like two Sumo wrestlers. Ne-Ne was screaming her butt off holding her eye and stomping her feet like a mad bull. Crazy!

While they were always fighting, I would half- heartedly play with the Barbie dolls. I always hated dolls. I loved basketball and real football, not that touch football crap either. I didn't like to do girl stuff it was cliché. I hated dresses. There was no freedom in it. Hell, I still hate them. Give me gym shoes any day. I wear them proudly. Besides, I am the biggest clux you would ever meet.

# Chapter 2

When mommy first met Frank Cross Jr, we liked him. He treated us really well. He played games with us and taught us proper manners. Manners like eating with our mouth closed and keeping our elbows off of the table, etc.

He often played and joked with us. He took us out to the movies and to dinner. She met him when we lived on Carol on the west side. (French basement)

He could run very fast. Once, he challenged us to a race on our bikes. He was running backwards and left us in the dust. I think I liked him more than my sister did.

We moved to the coldwater flat on Carol, where things continued to go okay for a while. We again had no heat. This was during the winter months and it was really cold. It was colder in the house than it was outside so, we would go outside just to warm up.

The water in the toilet was frozen as well as the water on the floor. My sister and I would skate around on the ice in the bathroom. In our room we had a big bucket that we used as a toilet. Our room door was kept closed all day so that the space heater could do its business.

Again, we were taught proper manners on a daily basis but by the time we moved to Kedvale in "K-Town", there was no longer any happiness in our home and we were separated from family.

I did not mind the lessons on proper manners. I just did not like the fact that we were prone to getting smacked when we messed up. At times I thought some of the punishments were unfair. I felt as though as long as I did my homework and chores, there should be no arguments.

The thing I did not like about homework was more homework was added when I arrived home. Everyday we had to do our multiplication table and vocabulary. We also had to bring all of our books home, even if we did not have homework. If you told my mother you did not have any homework, she would go through those books and find some.

At the end of the week we had a test on our vocabulary and multiplication. If we failed we could not go outside. If you were caught singing a song and did not know what 7x4 was off the top of your head, you were about to catch it so get ready to duck.

When we got whippings it was with an extension cord. We would have to bend over and touch our toes or bend over and touch the other side of the tub. If we moved we got it even worse. Back then child abuse was not an issue like it is today. We were frequently getting hit or backhanded. I became very good at ducking.

We did not always get whippings though. Sometimes we were put on punishment where as we had to stay in our room. Other times we had to stand holding encyclopedias, do squats, write lines or whatever else my mom came up with.

While all of this was going on, I had no idea Frank was abusing my mother physically and sexually. She was depressed a lot. She cheered up when he left. He practically lived at the bowling alley.

Eventually things got really bad for my mom. She could no longer handle the situation emotionally. By us being kids we did not know how bad it really was. I think I was around 9 years old. I'm not good with ages. I remember the day like it was yesterday though:

We knew my mom had a gun. She called it "Roscoe". I cannot remember what kind it was. Ke-Ke and I were in our room playing with our dolls. I remember seeing my mother come into the living room and look out of the window. She had tears running down her cheeks. We did not say anything to her.

Our bedroom was in the front of the apartment. Theirs were in the back. She went back to her room and a few minutes later we heard a gunshot. She began to holler and call for Ke-Ke.

In our room we just kind of stood there with our mouths open looking at each other. We ran to the back and we could hear her hollering for Ke-Ke. When we opened the door, she was laying on her back with tears streaming down the sides of her face.

She said, "Call the ambulance baby". She was really calm. She had shot herself in the right side. We did not have a phone, so Ke-Ke went next door to call an ambulance.

When they came I was still standing there, staring. I did not know how to feel because I did not know much. I was just a child. So many things were going through my head at the time and I did not understand that my mommy could have died.

I do not know how long she was gone. I do know Christmas came and went. I would ask for her. I asked my Auntie Rena "Will my mommy bring Christmas presents"? And she yelled at me. At the time, I did not understand why. I did not understand the magnitude of the situation. I was expecting my mom to walk through the door any minute or at any time.

We stayed with my Auntie Rena for a while. Mostly, I hated it. She would say mean things. Some of the things she said were very hurtful. She talked about my sister and I like we were dirt. She talked about our underwear, hair, nothing was held back. When she did our laundry for the first time I was so embarrassed because she was threatening to show our underwear to our boy cousins.

All we could do was take it, even though it was not our fault. I went to the bathroom and just cried it out. I would think that if our underwear and clothes were so bad, she would at least buy us some underwear. If it were me, I know would have.

My cousins kept our minds off of things. They were so much fun to be around as kids. They were very silly and would have us laughing all of the time. I love them for that.

I do not remember too much after the incident. I do know my mom and Frank got back together and that was another huge mistake on her part. All I know is the day they got back together; our lives were never the same. The childhood I so enjoyed was gone and I could do nothing about it.

# Chapter 3

Before I go any further, I would like to get into the background of my fathers and I relationship. I had no idea who he was or where he was for a long time. His name was Walter James Brown Jr. I was very young when he and my mom separated.

I had no idea he moved to Texas when I was 2. He said he looked for me like crazy. He said that the only reason he got to see me is because my mother wanted child support. He refused to pay because she would not let him see me.

I will never forget the day I met him in person. I was around 8 years old. That was the happiest and saddest day of my life.

He was supposed to come and pick me up. He was taking me to Dallas with him for the summer. I was so excited. I couldn't think of anything else for that whole week.

The day he arrived was long and upsetting because I thought he was not coming. I cried all day. I kept looking out of the window, no Pops (the nickname I gave him). It was getting dark and as I set on the front steps, I just cried. I did not think he wanted me. I was in the climax of my crying when he pulled up.

Man, my face just lit up. He was driving a gray Cadillac. He was so handsome. He had a Gerry Curl and his hair was long. Of course, this is all through the eyes of a very young, infatuated little girl. I just leapt into his arms and held on tight.

He was so skinny. He was always very skinny since the day I met him. You could count his ribs. I told him later on in life that he look like an anatomy project. (Smile)

I still remember those summer nights on the road as if they were a dream. At night you could see the lights over the different cities. They would sparkle and twinkle in the night. The air was warm. There was an awesome breeze coming through the open window. I would put my face in the window so I could feel it better.

Slow jams played on the radio. I could hear a song now, because I love to listen to oldies, and it will take me back every time. Some music takes me back to summer nights and Big Red soda pop (my favorite pop at the time). I felt as if I were floating on those nights, absolutely free.

My first summer in Dallas was really great! He was married to Brenda at the time. She had two girls, Nicole and Tasha. We were all around the same age. I'm his only child though.

We went to Wet 'N Wild (I almost drowned, Pops saved me), Show Biz Pizza and horse back riding (that was gross). The horse crapped the whole time and it looked like giant green pancakes.

Tasha and Nicole teased me the whole summer about a house on the corner. It was empty, but it had big jars filled with red liquid. They would tell me that the man that use to live there, killed his whole family and put their blood in those jars. I was terrified!

They warned me not to walk past the house or I would be killed. I never walked past that house.

They also made up a story about dogs that ran faster than cars. They used this story to scare me when they did not want me to go to the park with them. They told me I would never out run the dogs.

I would eventually retaliate by hanging Nicole's underwear out of the second floor window after she had a bowel movement in them. I was put on punishment, but it was worth it. Heifers! (Jackson's Rule Baby!)

Overall, we just had a good time though. I did not want to come home, but of course I had to.

# Chapter 4

Remember I said, "Life is full of what ifs"? I still wonder what life would have been like "IF" my mother had let Frank go after she shot herself. I think deep in her heart, she knew it would not work. I just do not understand why she kept going back.

We all were moved back in together. The situation just got worse though. Frank began to sexually abuse me. By this time, we were living on Waller and I think I was about 9 years old.

The first time he raped me, it was morning and I was in the kitchen washing the breakfast dishes. My mother was in her bedroom and Ke-Ke had gone outside to play with Chubby.

He grabbed me from behind and covered my mouth. He turned me around and told me "don't say anything". He picked me up and put me on the sink. Then he pulled off my underwear and unzipped his pants. He could not get his penis in, so he spit on his hand, rubbed his penis with it, covered my mouth and forced himself inside me. It was the worse hurt I have ever felt physically and emotionally. All I could do was silently cry.

I was in so much pain it was difficult to walk straight. He left soon afterwards. I went into the bathroom and cried. I tried to think. Maybe I did something wrong? I just paced back and forth because I was confused. I was bleeding, hurt and very scared.

I did not tell my mom what had happened. I did tell her I was bleeding, but I had already flushed the toilet without thinking. She did not believe that I was bleeding and told me to, 'hurry up outta the bathroom".

The rape continued for a couple of years. I was afraid of being alone with him. I spent a lot of my time outside when my mother was gone. He would still find a way though.

He would come into our bedroom while we were asleep and rape me right there. I still do not know how my mother never knew he was up at night. And if she did know, why she never came to see what he was doing?

He would tell me to "sleep naked". I would keep my clothes on and pretend to be asleep. I would pretend I did not feel anything or know he was there. Tears would flow and I did not know what to do about it.

My sister and I had separate beds at the time. Well, not separate beds. She slept in the bed and I slept on the couch that was in our room because she was always urinating on me. Now that I think back, maybe I should have slept in the urine. That way he would not have been able to do anything to me.

The rapes happened so frequently that I got fed up with it. I became depressed and suicidal. I thought about suicide all the time. I kept trying to think of ways to commit suicide.

I think I was still 9 the first time I tried it. To me it was the only way out. I drank some roach spray. That was all I could think to do because the bottle said, "Do not Drink", "Poison". I just threw it all up. I am surprised I am still alive because of the amount I drank. I vomited so much.

My mother thought I had eaten some bad ground beef because we had burgers that night for dinner. I did not tell her why I was regurgitating. I threw up all night. She never once called a doctor. At the time, I didn't want her to. I seriously wanted to die because I felt guilty, dirty and ashamed.

When they finally broke up, I never said anything. I thought it was over. I should have said something then maybe things would not have happened the way they did.

When he left, the tension left the house. Moms went back to school. We would help her with her medical terms. I think I was the only kid in elementary school who knew what a sphygmomanometer was. She never finished though. But helping her with her terms gave me a very strong interest in the medical field.

Pops would bounce in and out of town to see me. He would buy my school clothes. One time he bought Ke-Ke and I shoes. He would send money so that I could buy school clothes. I liked being able to pick out my own school clothes.

That was the only time I really got new shoes. A lot of times the soles of my shoes would hang off or have holes in them. But it didn't matter. We were happier, but not ecstatic.

My mother wanted my dad back at one point. I will not pretend to know why they never got back together. Who knows? I know I did not see him for a while. I found the letters she wrote to him when I cleaned out his closet in 2000.

The last good time we all had together was on my mothers' birthday when I was around 10. It really was "the last time we ALL had a good time together".

My sister and I threw her a surprise birthday party when she came home from school. It was kind of comical. She laughed really hard, but she appreciated it.

We had saved some food stamps and went to the store. We bought Little Debbie's, potato chips, pop, basically all the junk food you can think of. Now, this is what she laughed about, we did not invite any of her friends, we invited OUR friends. She was tired from being at school all day, so the party did not last too long.

Eventually Frank came back once again. This whole situation just about drove me insane. I do not think she could tell him she did not want to be with him. It lasted for about a week. She eventually called Auntie Linda and we left in the middle of the night with what we could carry.

# Chapter 5

When we left that night, we stayed with Auntie Linda for a couple of months. It was really crowded, but I enjoyed the reprieve. She lived in a two- bedroom attic, on 73rd Kimbark, on the south side of Chicago.

It was very small. Under one roof there was Ke-Ke, Shannon, Auntie Linda, Mommy and I. I do not know how, but we made it work. Shannon would spend hours in the bathroom because that was the only place she could get peace and quiet.

We finally moved into another place, right around the corner on Greenwood. I really did not like it. We had a roommate. His name was Donnie. He was cool. The living conditions never really changed. There was never any food or hot water.

Our clothes were horrible. Personally, I had two pairs of underwear I would wash out on my hands in cold water. I would rotate them so that I always had clean underwear. They had holes in them. We could not even take baths. I took "hoe" baths in cold water.

I did not understand why we never had any food or heat. Donnie paid my mother rent. My mother had a job as a candy licker (I think I know what that is but I am not sure). Plus we received food stamps, but there wasn't much food.

Ke-Ke came up with some weird, but tasty dishes. It consisted mostly of what she could find. Ne-Ne came over on weekends. Then Little Kim, Love and Auntie Bootsie moved in. Our apartment was like party central then.

I continued to go to school while everyone else lounged around. It was a means of escape for me. Plus, I had to put up with Frank again. This time, he had another girlfriend. He did not live with us. He lived back at the coldwater flat. He had fixed it up.

My mom insisted that we go spend the weekend with him. Every weekend. Of course, the abuse continued but not as often as before. I was cornered in the basement twice. He would overpower me. After that I flat out refuse to go down there anymore. I finally got up enough courage to tell someone.

I was in the restroom and there was a hole in the tub that was connected to Frank's bedroom. That hole was there from the time we lived there. He would peep through the hole and tell me to model for him. Or he would tell me to sit in the tub and open my legs. The first time, I did my business and got out of there as fast as I could.

I finally got up the courage to tell him "no". I went into the next room where my sister and her friend were playing. I told them about the hole in the tub. They knew about the hole already. I also told them what Frank used that hole for and what he was saying to me through it. They did not believe me. He continued to say nasty things to me through that hole, but I refused to go back into that basement. So there was no opportunity for him to touch me anymore.

Like I said, our apartment was like party central. My mother was always gone now. She would be gone all night and for a couple of days sometimes. People just lounged around all day lying on the couch.

Kim and I were the only ones that got up in the morning to go to school. Ke-Ke never wanted to go. No one made her either. Kim and I went all of the time. We could eat at school.

I was a bum, which I could not help. But if I left for school (it did not matter how far I had gone) and I forgot to brush my teeth, I would walk all the way back home just to brush my teeth. Some things you CAN help.

After a while, I suspected something was going on with my mother. I just couldn't figure it out. She was always gone. When she was at home, she was always in her room.

One day the cat took a crap in my mothers' bed. When I tried to catch him, he ran behind the water heater. He bit me when I stuck my hand behind the water heater. He had a good hold on my hand, so I began shaking it trying to get him off. I succeeded. My hand was bleeding very badly. All I could do was run it under cold water so it would stop bleeding.

I went into my mothers' bedroom to get some gauze or something to cover the wounds. I was going through her dresser when I found it. I found a mirror with a white residue on it.

I had watched a number of detective shows so I was curious to find out if it was cocaine. So I put it on my tongue and it went numb. I knew then why there was never any money for food. Moms sniffed it.

Some time passed and my father came to visit. He saw the conditions in which I lived and he was very upset. He took me with him to visit a couple of his friends and to just hang out with him for the day. At the end of the day he asked me, "Do you want to come live with me"? I told him "yes". I wanted to, more than anything. I was so excited at the thought of getting away. He said he would talk to my mother. He said that if she said no, would I be willing to just leave? I told him "yes".

So that night when he took me home, he asked my mom could he talk to her in her room. I don't know what was said, but there was an argument and she put him out.

When I last saw him before he left for Texas, he said he would keep in touch. He told me he would think of something. I did not think the matter would ever surface again.

About two weeks later, Aunt Lillian (his Aunt) got a call from him. The instructions were for me to put necessities in my backpack and walk to school with Kim like I always did.

When the bell rang, I was to leave and go over Aunt Lil house. She stayed down the street from us. At about 12, someone would come get me and take me to the Greyhound Bus Station.

He told me not to talk to anyone. He also told me not to tell anyone that I was leaving. The morning I left, everything went like clock work. The only thing is, I told Kim I was running away. I did not tell her where I was going though.

I think the hardest part was getting to Aunt Lillian's house without being seen because she lived so close to us. Once I was able to skirt around the buildings, the rest of the plan was a piece of cake. The next night I was in Dallas, Texas.

# Chapter 6

Things went really well for a while. I made new friends and I felt safe. I knew then, although at one point and time I almost forgot, someone actually loved me.

I really enjoyed my life in Dallas. When I first arrived, for a few months, I was not enrolled in school. At that time, if you were not in school, you were well advised to stay home or be on the streets with an adult.

I did not take that warning seriously. I went to the store while my father was at work and was picked up by the police for truancy. The officer kept asking me if I were a runaway and I kept telling him "no".

They took me to a school and called my dad. He enrolled me in that school. I was supposed to be in the 6th grade.

When I arrived to class on my first day, I could not fit in the desk. I was too tall. I was told to go to the office. I was then, driven by a counselor, to another school. I was then enrolled in the 7th grade at Benjamin Franklin Middle School.

I was tested in Math, Reading and English. I tested well in those subjects. In Reading, I was tested for several days because they had a hard time finding my reading level. I passed all of the English test. When the test were finally complete, my scores were college level. I was happy to find out I was a sophomore in college when it came to Reading.

I was teased when I first began school. Pop's had taken me shopping and I picked out some really cute Pro-wings. At least I thought they were cute. Having shoes were a luxury and I felt really lucky that my daddy bought them for me.

Everyone at school talked about me like a dog though. They kept telling me to "fly home Jackson". They sent me home crying on numerous occasions. My father finally took pity on me and bought me some Fila's. I have only worn name brand shoes since.

Teasing and bullying is really rough on a kid. You feel slighted everyday you go to school. You feel like everyone is staring at you or laughing at you. You feel this way even, if for one day, they are not paying you any attention. I got into the habit of walking with my head down so I could minimize being seen. It took a lifetime to shed that habit.

I began playing the violin in the 7th grade. That, I really enjoyed. We all learned how to play very quickly. Mr. White was an excellent teacher.

I entered and won several competitions in my first year. I was playing college level music the following year. No one had to tell me to practice. If I was not playing, I was reading, listening to music, watching T.V. or playing my new video game (SEGA).

Playing the violin opened up a whole new world of music for me. Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, I fell in love with the music and playing it. I now consider myself an eclectic.

Before practice at school, I would play with the other instruments like the cello, viola, and bass. I became very good with the viola because it was very similar to the violin, just in a lower tone.

I was familiar with the cello and bass meaning, I could only play by ear. The bass was a little too big for my hands. I could not hold it and shift accurately at the same time. I loved the cello because of its rich, mellow sound.

I have always been able to sing, I am just shy. I do that very well also. I did it all the time when I was alone or around someone that I was comfortable with. But when I learned to play these instruments, music became an obsession.

I began to feel some music as if it was a second skin and it felt great! Music has an amazing impact on my mood. It can switch me in an instant. Some even make my skin and scalp crawl.

I was curious about this and asked someone about it. I was told that it was just my spirit being affected by the music. I found that bit of information intriguing. I really do like the music of it all.

The thing that disappointed me most about my father is he never came to any of my concerts or contest. I would see the other kids with their parents and I would feel bad. In reality, he was becoming a couch potato and a lush.

We still got along even though we did not spend too much time together. I was always hanging out with Franshell. We were always getting into trouble. She would want to sneak out of the house and drag my gullible ass with her. We were caught once, but we were just put on punishment.

When Shiela (Franshell's mother) caught us, she told us to "Get back into the house the way yo ass got out". So, we had to climb back over the balcony.

We were never distant when something dumb happened. When you found one, you found the other. She was a thief and I was a follower. They tried to get me to steal, but I just couldn't do it.

Wait! There was this one time. I feel embarrassed just telling this, but I did get busted at Six Flags Over Texas. There is probably a picture of me by the door with a big sign that says "THIEF"!

We went to the park with my father's job (D.A.R.T). Franshell and Vicky were hitting Six Flags up. I was chicken, but I let them talk me into it. Lesson: Kids have your own mind. When one goes down, you all go down! Even if you didn't do anything you are affiliated with them. But yes I stole.

I remember the time this girl beat me down. Now mind you, I was extremely skinny when I was young. This girl looked as if she lifted weights. She literally picked me up by my neck.

All three of my running buddies damaged her. She gave them a run for their money though. This girl would not go down. She was tagging all three of them. Franny by herself was a force. They even blinded her with spray starch and she was still swinging. I really felt bad for her. I was sent home with my first and only suspension and I didn't even throw one punch.

The call eventually came. The police had finally found me. I knew it was coming. They tracked my school records. Apparently my mother wanted me back. I did not want to go, but the police kept calling trying to get me to come back.

After thinking about it for a while, I decided to tell my father all that had happened to me over the years. I told him everything about Frank. He told me not to worry. I was not going back. I felt safe.

The police wanted to hear directly from me. My father had told them what happened to me. They still wanted to hear me say, "I want to stay with my father". I told them just that and I stayed.

Over the years things went fine. I continued to make good grades. I stuck with playing the violin and became very good. I had finally found something else I was good at. The violin was different from singing because if you messed up, you could cover it up. No one could tell the difference unless you put your instrument down.

My father had met a new woman. They got along sometimes. She was all right, I guess. We really did not communicate very well. Her name was Mary.

She had two kids, a little boy and a little girl. They were a pain at times. I had to baby sit during the summer when Mary and my dad were at work. I wished I didn't have to.

If my father were home, I would go and volunteer at Presbyterian Village North. It was a nursing home. I loved going there. I have always loved spending time with the elderly.

I was promiscuous by this time. I began to have sex with different boys and I eventually contracted sexually transmitted diseases. I think I know from whom I contracted them. But the messed up part is I cannot remember his name.

He came over one day while my father was at work. We tried having unsafe sex, but he jumped up all of a sudden. What I saw was not right. There was red mushy stuff coming out of his penis. He said he would be back and left. I never saw him again. When he left I did not think much of it.

I soon became very ill and my father summed it up to me being on my period. I threw up everything, even water. I was weak and it was extremely painful to walk. It felt like my pelvis was about to shatter every time I took a step. Every time I urinated I felt pain so intense, all I could do is sit on the toilet and cry. My father would not take me to the hospital, but Mary eventually did.

It turns out I had gonorrhea and PID. I was told I could never have children because there was too much damage. My fallopian tubes were severely scarred. I was also told that if Mary had not taken me in when she did, I would have died. After that, I was very careful with my sex life. It was years before I was even comfortable enough to have sex.

Mary and my father eventually broke up. Time passed and I stayed away from the house a lot. I was just bored. Pop's worked all of the time. When he came home, he was usually tired.

When summer came, Pops planned a trip to Chicago. I could not wait. I had been in Texas a couple of years and had never really thought about Chicago much. I was about to turn 15yrs old. My birthday was a couple of weeks away. I did not know I would stay in Chicago long enough to see my birthday come and go.

# Chapter 7

When we first arrived in Chicago, we spent the night with Grandma Redmond. She was a really good friend of my fathers. From there, I asked my father could I go see my mother? He was hesitant at first, but he took me.

My mom stayed on Justine during this time. She was very surprised and happy to see me. She looked different. My feelings were genuine. I wonder, to this day, if hers were genuine or was it a competition to see if she could get me back. I would eventually, in time, get an idea about the answer to that question.

One thing I neglected to say was that I did eventually tell my mother what Frank did to me. I cannot believe she thought I was lying. She told me I was making it up. She snapped on me and that really confused me. She questioned me as if I were a criminal who stole her man. I felt like she was a cop and I was being grilled for a crime that I had not committed.

It just really blew me away to the point to where I cried. At that moment I hated her, but I loved her more than that hate (confused). The subject was dropped at the time and I left it alone because I wanted to build a relationship with her.

My mom and several relatives asked me to stay and I did. Things went well at first. I went to Hyde Park High School, because they had an Orchestra. I had a violin at school and I carried it home everyday to practice. One day, my mom surprised me with a violin of my own. I was frantic!

I lived out of district, but my Grandma Waneda lived down the street from Hyde Park. I began to stay at her apartment during the week and I went home on the weekend. She was great! We were always laughing at something silly.

One day, I mustered up enough courage to ask her if she had false teeth? She said, "I don't know, lets see". She pulled those bad boys out and chased me around the apartment with them. It was so funny. We laughed all the time. I enjoyed spending time with my grandma. We clicked and she did not "click" with too many people. I think it was because I was her namesake.

My Auntie Rena also had a room in my Grandma's apartment. I really got to know her then. We lost touch for a number of years. She had a really bad habit of insult. I do not think she knew how much her words hurt others. But this was a different time. I wanted to get to know her all over again.

I loved when she spent the night. To me, I had not known someone so intelligent before. In a way, I felt insignificant. But, I also felt that if I could manage a conversation with her and not feel like a total idiot by the end of that conversation, I was doing well. I truly loved spending time with her because she made me think and I love a challenge.

Things began to change at home, but I wanted it to work out so very much. I was trying to make it work. My mother acted as if she did not want me.

My grandma asked my mother if I could stay with her and my mother brought it to my attention one day. I was so confused. I wanted to stay with my mother, but I also loved being with grandma. I wanted for us to be close, so I turned down grandma's offer. This was another one of my mistakes. I hate to sound redundant, but life is full of "What If's".

My mother and I had, what one would call an on and off relationship. One day it was good, the other bad. I felt defeated in most cases. I was not happy at home, when she was there. Her live in boyfriend, Leonard, was an asshole. He was gross, selfish and a liar.

We did not stay on Justine for long once I got to Chicago. We moved on 80th Union. My mom spent most of her time at work. She would be gone for a week at a time. Leonard would lie on us all the time (me, Ne-Ne, Kim). He told my mother lies like we had boys in the house and stuff like that.

We never had any food. Leonard would go out, buy himself restaurant food and eat it in front of us. He could be so cruel. We ate this pork that came in a can, which was pretty good when you dressed it up and put it over rice. It looked nasty, but when you are hungry you make the bad taste good.

School wasn't all that great. I attended Calumet High School. By this time I had been accepted into the All-City Orchestra of Chicago. I was not a member long because I had made the decision to work. I could not take being hungry all of the time.

My first job was at Brown's Chicken and Pasta on 81st and Halsted in Chicago. My thoughts at the time were "Food". I needed to make sure I had what I needed. I would buy food and I needed clothes. I had not turned 16 yet, but I applied and got the job.

The last happy moment I spent with my mom was a week before Christmas. Kim and Ne-Ne did not want to help put the tree up, so my mother and I did it. It was fun and memorable.

My mom and I would always sing together. We loved to harmonize. I would always take the top because that is where I felt the most comfortable. I had a wide range though. Mom was an alto and tenor. I have not heard her sing since that Christmas and she the same. I wonder if she still got it?

Things really did not get better though. Leonard lied on us again. This time there were irreversible consequences:

She was really upset when she came home that weekend. I do not remember what it was we supposedly did. All I know is when she came home she called us all down stairs to talk. I will never forget what she said to me. It will always be etched into my brain.

She told me "I don't love you. I don't know how to love you". My heart just sank. I knew my life would never be the same, especially my life with her. I felt that to her, I no longer existed.

# Chapter 8

Again, I left my mother's house. I packed my bags and bounced. Grandma Redmond stayed down the street from us. I went over there because I had nowhere else to go.

Meanwhile, I had gotten really close to Linda, my boss at work. She was a really cool lady. She looked out for me. If it had not been for her, I would not have had a job.

Anyway, she offered me a place to stay and I took it. I was determined to finish high school. There was no way I was dropping out. I did not want a GED. I wanted to walk across that stage and have a feeling of accomplishment. I wanted to know how it felt. I should have known then that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. I just made sure I stayed my butt out of trouble, because I had no guardian.

High school was okay. I got along fine with my teachers. When it came to my classmates, I kept to myself. I did not want to get into any trouble.

Life at Linda's mother's house was all right. Anthony and Dion were really cool. Dion and I fought all the time. It was usually over his mother. He hated that I called her "Ma". I still loved him like a brother though.

I met Lamar, whom I would date off and on for over 20 years. I did not want to be with him at first because he was ugly. You know how teenagers are. I did not want to be seen with an ugly guy. He was very persistent and sweet though. I eventually fell in love with him.

Linda would drop in on occasion. She was often out. I would sit on the porch waiting for her little Paseo to pop up. Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn't. I enjoyed watching the Bulls and movies with Grandma Ricks. She was a cool lady. Mean as hell, but cool.

Any-who, I was happy for a while. Linda's sons and I had become very close and we still are. I love them very much. I found out that blood did not matter when it came to family. Family can be anyone.

As usual the bottom falls out of my world in a heartbeat. I went to the doctor one day for a check up and they found I had Syphilis. I could not believe my ears because I had not slept with anyone since I had found out I had PID and gonorrhea.

The doctor arranged for me to have a lumbar puncture to see how bad it was. When the test came back, it was really bad. I was told I had it for quite a while because it was in my spinal fluid. I had it so long that it had progressed to neurosyphilis. It wasn't long before it would have begun to affect my brain.

I was sent to Cook County Hospital where I was admitted for two weeks. I had to get antibiotics through an IV. It was extremely painful. Every time they gave me the medication, my veins felt like they were engulfed in flames. It was so depressing. I did not have a TV or anything. I just stared out of the window at a brick wall.

My family never came to see me. It was then I realized how alone I really was. That depressed me even more.

Then one day, it was storming outside. I know it had to be flooding in most places. Linda showed up out of the blue. I was elated to see her. I could not believe she would come out in that weather to see me.

We talked for a while and she left. She told me she loved me and when she came to pick me up, she would bring the boys. I will never forget that day. It really meant a lot to me.

Eventually I went home and things proceeded as usual. I tried to kill myself again by taking a lot of pills. There was so much hurt inside of me. I was barely 16 years old, but I felt like I had been alive 25 years already. I felt heavy inside and unbearably sad.

I really do not think Grandma Ricks liked me very much and she eventually told me to leave. I did of course. I moved in with Auntie Linda and I stayed there for a while. My father came to get me and I went back to Texas.

# Chapter 9

Everything was okay for a while. I was enrolled at D.W. Carter High School. I enjoyed going there. I especially enjoyed the Pep Rally's. Those were awesome! Football is a big thing down south. It was a show every time I went. I was back in the Orchestra and loving every minute of it.

Basketball was my thing. I would play in the gym with the boys. I hated playing with the girls because they whined too much. I was told I was too fast. It's amazing what you can do with a basketball when you are amped up.

I was being watched and did not know it. My gym teacher pulled me to the side one day. I did not know she was the girls' basketball coach. She asked me if I wanted to join the girls' basketball team? I told her sure. The only problem is I needed a physical. I asked my dad, but he never took me. It was the middle of the season, so I never did get to play.

Everything was going fine until my father beat me with a fishing pole because he read the phone bill wrong. When the fishing pole broke, he went and got an extension cord.

He told me I could talk to my mother for an hour on Christmas. He thought I spoke with her twice, but I had not. The phone company billed him twice for the same call, so he woke me up out of my sleep, beating me with a fishing pole.

He apologized, but the damage was already done. I told him he needed to quit drinking. When he hit me with the fishing pole, he tore my arm open and I had to go to school like that. It was difficult trying to explain what happened to my arm to my classmates. Not to mention embarrassing.

I could not take the drinking. I told him I was going back to Chicago and I asked him to withdraw me from school. He told me, "Do it yourself". So, I did. I went back to Chicago. I did not know I had a scholarship to college for playing the violin. He did not tell me because he was upset with me.

When I went back to Chicago, I stayed with Auntie Linda again. That woman has always been there. She's an awesome lady. I can call her at 2 in the morning and she would always be there.

When I tried to enroll in school, I got the scare of my life. I almost had to get a GED because when Auntie Linda took me to South Shore High School, I could not enroll. I was told I had no legal guardian. I cried all the way home.

It was suggested that I try to go back to Calumet High School. I was enrolled there before I went back to Texas. It worked and I was back in school. Thank God!

I spent most of my time in Mrs. Thigpens's office. We did not get a long at first. We had a big argument about something. I do not remember what the problem was. We were really cool after we established some kind of understanding.

I really wanted a class ring, so I was pulling in hours big time at Taco Bell. I put one on lay-a-way at Balfour. One day when I went to make a payment I fell asleep in the chair. When I got there, no one was in the front of the store. So I assumed they were in the back taking care of business.

When I awoke, I was still alone. I have no idea how long I was asleep. I began to say "hello". No one answered. I was afraid because I did not know if someone was in the back dead or hurt. I slowly went to the back and it was empty.

I looked into the display case. They had some really nice jewelry. This was during the time the Bulls were winning championships back to back. They had this huge, gold championship ring that was a paperweight. It was absolutely gorgeous.

While I was trying to figure out what to do, a lady came in. I told her the place was open when I got there, but no one was there. She looked around and suggested we call the stores voicemail and leave a message. We waited until someone arrived so they could lock the door. I am no thief. Anyone that knows me would tell you that.

It turns out that the young lady that was supposed to lock up the store became distracted by her kids and forgot to lock the door. She was lucky I was the one that walked in. If it had been someone else from my school, Balfour probably would have got hit like good weed.

The last couple of weeks in high school were fun. There is a tradition at Calumet, which we call the "Class Sing". The graduating class sings for the school and parents. They take a class photo and have a picnic.

The music teacher, I cannot remember her name, which is really weird because I talked to her a few years ago. She was a patient at Little Company of Mary Hospital when I worked there.

Anyway, she wanted to cancel the sing. She said she did not have the time to do the work. I told her I would do it. So I did. I did all the music and designed the programs. What I did was take the music everyone voted on and rewrote it.

I needed it to sound cool so the students wouldn't mind singing it. She made me redo one song called "This is how we do it" by Montell Jordan. She did not like the part about guns that I wrote. It went something like "put the guns down and throw your hands up". I thought it sent a positive message of no violence and the students that saw it loved it. But I changed it anyway because I had no choice. The hardest song to rewrite was "For the Love of You" by Isley Brothers. I managed though.

I was also the Master of Ceremonies. Thein Spencer was my co-host. I was in love with that young man. He was so well spoken, handsome, intelligent. Excellent orator.

During the ceremony he had to grab my arm when I was speaking, because I was so nervous. I was speaking way too fast. I was trying to get off stage. He whispered in my ear for me to slow down. At the end of the program, the class gave me roses.

Graduation day was good and bad. I almost missed my own graduation. I still have the mark on my hand from that day. June 16, 1995, had its moments.

I could not control my temper back then. I had come downstairs, well aware that I was running late. No one answered the door and out frustration I stuck my hand through the glass. I got to the graduation just in time to get in line.

When I finally walked across the stage, Mrs. Hill handed me my diploma and said, "You can smile now". I smiled big then. I was so happy.

My daddy drove all the way from Texas just to see me graduate. He had to turn right back around because he had to work. My mother did not come. It hurt, but I did not dwell on it too long.

# Chapter 10

I continued to live with Auntie Linda and we argued practically everyday. One day, I had gotten sick with a really bad earache. She took me to Woodlawn clinic and that is where I met Dr. Garg. She said, "This is the cleanest ear infection I have ever seen". So I met her not too long before I graduated.

She became very influential in my life. She became a very good friend. I also met Karolyn Jackson and she gave a little order to my world. I became very close with the Woodlawn family. I spent a lot of my free time with them.

Dr. Garg would pick me up and take me out to lunch or we would just hang out. Karolyn would take me to plays or shopping with her. I would go to the clinic and hang out if I had nothing else to do.

Karolyn told me one day that she was moving to the South Suburbs (Harvey). She asked if I would like to stay with her? I thought about it for a while. I told her I would and I moved on. I moved around so much and my journey continued for years to come.

I moved with Karolyn and I felt like family for a while. I was happy for a minute. I went to South Suburban College, I worked at Taco Bell and I did chores. I finally felt that I belonged somewhere. I was there for a couple of months.

Karolyn took me with her to meet her family in Indianapolis. It was one the best Thanksgivings I ever had. I felt like I had a stable home life and family. I almost felt normal.

I lost my job shortly after Thanksgiving and I needed another one. I was not sure what I wanted to do. I knew I did not want to work for restaurants anymore.

I wanted to work in the hospital, but I was not sure about how to get my foot through the door or for what position I should apply. I did not want to work in the kitchen that was for sure. I wanted to gain experience with the patients.

One of my friends at school worked at Ingalls Hospital as a nurse. She said she could set it up so I could volunteer. I was in school because I wanted to be a physician during this time.

Meanwhile, at home things were falling apart. To this day, I still do not know what the problem was. I had tried, on several occasions, to give Karolyn money for the bills, but she would not take it.

I did not have a job (I was working on that), but I was in school full-time and I was volunteering full-time. I was 18 years old and when I was not at school I was at the hospital. I was determined to work somewhere where I could learn everything I could about the medical field. I was so focused on my future at this time.

Another friend at school hooked me up to work at Lincoln Pharmacy as a technician. That was a very boring job and I learned that pharmacological studies was something I could never get in to. I learned how to fill prescriptions. It was like watching paint dry.

Things went so bad at home and total confusion set in. She just changed up on me one day. She knew the reason for my volunteering. I would go volunteer when I got out of school. A lot of times I would get in the house around 8 or no later than 9:30p. I was volunteering in Central Transportation at Ingalls Hospital in Harvey. I loved it. I was learning so much and they were dealing directly with patients.

Anyway, when I got home, she told me I had two weeks to get out. I had no idea what I did wrong. I always did what she asked. I cooked and cleaned, went to school everyday. I did not know what was going on. I had nowhere to go.

I continued to do the things I was doing, but at the same time, I had no idea what to do. She would not talk to me. One night she locked me out and I had to sleep outside.

I kept asking her "What did I do wrong"? She would ignore me. I never received an answer. I would see where she was coming from if I was laid up all day, everyday doing nothing. This totally came out of the blue. Things had gotten so bad, I had to leave a note on the refrigerator just to communicate with her.

I was laid-off at the pharmacy. He said he didn't need help at the time because business was slow, and I understood.

I was so hurt by Karolyn by this time. I was so hurt that I wanted to hurt her. This is the first and only time I felt like I wanted to end someone. I came very close to it to be quite honest. If I had found her gun... And I did look for it. I could not fathom how someone could do anyone like she did me and I still don't.

I went to school and talked to one of the counselors. I needed somewhere to go. She told me about Aunt Martha's Shelter for Youths. I was not sure if that was what I wanted to do. I had no choices really.

I went to Aunt Martha's and spoke with Robin Covington. She gave me a tour of the facilities and told me what they did.

I still did not know if that was the right choice. I was very afraid. I told her I would get back with her, but she said I had very little time because they fill up fast. I told her I would move in. I just blurted it out without thinking. I thought to myself, "I can't believe I just said that". I didn't have a way to move my things so one of the counselors picked me up.

I called my mom a few times just to see how she was doing. During my stay at the shelter, we often had pretty good conversations. I knew these talks were always a temporary thing. I tried to keep in touch just so that she would know I was still alive.

It did not surprise me that she told my sister I was trying to move in on her. I spoke with my mom maybe, once a week and never did the words "Can I stay with you" come out of my mouth. It never even crossed my mind to be honest. But at the time, that was the type of person she was.

Well, I had been volunteering at Ingalls for about 3 months. I was there after school practically every day. I was pulling full-time hours. I finally approached Frank Zucarrelli about a job.

I did not know Frank was Chairman of the Board at South Suburban College. Frank and I got along really well. He really looked out for me. So did Debbie Pendergrass. Debbie and I were really close (we still are). She's one of my best friends.

Frank told me "we aren't hiring yet, besides, why should I hire you? I already get your services for free". I told him "if I work hard for you now, just think how hard I would work if you paid me".

He laughed and said as soon as something opened up, I could have it. Someone told me that was the wrong answer, but read on (giggling).

I already knew how to do the job. All I needed was training in CPR. They also had an ergonomics class I would have to take.

At the shelter, things were going pretty good. I had friends; I was in school and at Ingalls. I settled in very nicely. I even had my own room. That was cool. The only really bad thing that came out of staying at the shelter is I began smoking cigarettes and weed.

The day after I smoked weed for the first time, Frank called me for an interview. I was scared out of my mind because I had drugs in my system. I really needed that job.

One of my friends at the shelter told me, that to get weed out of my system, I had to drink vinegar. He did not tell me how much though. Like an idiot, I drank the whole bottle. I was so sick. I threw up the first half and consumed the rest. All I had was the weekend to clean out my system.

I know I use the term "friend" loosely here. My perception of a "true" friend has drastically changed during my walk. It has been a real education. I only have one friend and He has never dropped the ball.

I did pass the test though. I was making 8.20 an hour (Better than minimum wage). I was not going to complain. I was full-time and I had benefits. Good benefits. I loved my job. Even now I say it was the best I have had so far. I knew everyone. I had so many friends that really looked out for me.

I had dreams, which were probably too big at the time. My biggest problems were trying to deal with my "mood swings". That is what I called them at the time. I would be laughing and talking one minute and crying the next. I did not know what was going on. I thought it was just my personality.

I became depressed and I cried a lot. I thought I needed to do something different. So I got on the Internet and began looking for a school. I thought that maybe I needed to get away for a while.

I found Langston University in Langston, Oklahoma. I had never considered going to a school out- of- state or an all black University for that matter. I applied anyway and was accepted. I said to myself, "why not"? I needed a change. So I took the plunge. Everyone was so supportive. The shelter even gave me $1,000 for spending money.

When the time came, I put in my two weeks notice. Frank told me when I got back I had a job waiting for me. I was touched, I even cried on my last day. I left for Oklahoma.

# Chapter 11

I should have known when Greyhound lost my luggage that it was an omen. I should have stayed my behind in Chicago from the get-go. But everything is a learning experience.

It was truly beautiful though. Rolling pastures as far as the eye can see. Even so, it was so very hot. I thought Texas was hot, but damn. It was like the sun was right there in front of you. I had on a coat because Chicago was so cold when I left. I came out of that coat quick.

I took Greyhound. I hated the bus because of previous experiences. The bus did not go to Langston, Oklahoma, so it dropped me and another student off in Guthrie, Oklahoma. It was like a time warp. It was like a scene... Maybe a scene cut right out of a Charles Dickens novel. I liked it.

There was no shade in front of the Greyhound station and it was closed. We had to stand out side with the sun blaring down on us.

Greyhound lost all of my clothes and all I had was my footlocker. That bastard was heavy. All I could do was drag it. We waited for about an hour in the heat. Then the Trolley from the school picked us up.

On the other hand, Oklahoma was beautiful. The school was out in the middle of nowhere. I asked the guy driving the Trolley if that building was a hospital. He said, "No, that's the school". I laughed.

During the ride I was in another world where everything was slow and sleepy. There were cows out to pasture; horses were sprinkled here and there grazing; it was truly magnificent. I love farm life. I wish I had a ranch. I would learn to run it, with help of course. It was so quiet.

That is until we got to the school. Back to my reality! Everyone was moving in, trying to find out where they belong. There was a lot of teamwork involved.

I was in Young Hall. I had my own dorm room, for the time being, on the 3rd floor. One of the guys offered to take my footlocker up for me. He picked it up by himself and carried it up three flights of stairs. I hated being on the 3rd floor, but fish had no choices. The upper classmen had first priority.

My first and only thought at the time was to get down to business. Work, work, work! I had no idea campus life would be so intriguing.

My first day there, I made friends and hooked up with the wrong crowd. I needed to get back to Guthrie to find some clothes. That was first on my list. I had no transportation, so I asked around.

I knew I had a $1,000 check. I also had cash on me from my savings. That was when I met Nyree (Shady). I had no idea we would become fast friends. She didn't have a car, but she got me to Guthrie.

I hated the classes I had chosen. I was not interested in anything except English, because I liked to read and write. My professor loved my work. He wanted me to write an essay so he could get it published in a textbook. He told me about it too soon though and it served to be too much pressure. I blew it.

Anyway, I digress. My favorite pass time when I first arrived was hanging out in the student lounge. One day, I went down to the lounge and some of the students were sitting around singing. One of the students wanted to form a choir. There was a little debate and at the conclusion the choir was formed.

The problem we faced was we had nowhere to practice. We were not official so the school was not obligated to provide us with facilities to practice. SO, we pulled some strings around campus and practiced wherever we could.

We were very good. We sang at one church and the next thing you knew, we were invited to sing at a lot of churches in Guthrie and Oklahoma City.

The next obstacle we faced was we could not get around on those request, so one of the churches donated a van to us. Just until the end of the semester. We just sung wherever we could.

When I was not with the choir, I hung out at this little hole in the wall about two miles down the road; Shady and Tasha liked to manhunt. I was just trying to chill. We smoked weed, got our drink on and went to the club. There was never a dull moment. There was always something happening: bon fires, football games, parties in the gym.

Maya Angelou came to speak. I hate she refused to shake hands or sign autographs afterward. I wanted to meet her. I heard most of the speech, but I could not stay. I do not remember what the speech was about.

Langston taught me a lot about myself. It taught me that I had weaknesses that needed to be addressed. The ideology of an educated, strong, focused, young lady changed as time passed. I thought I knew me when I arrived, but I realized I did not know myself as well as I thought.

I enjoyed my time at Langston to some degree. I had no idea I was going to leave before the end of the semester though. Two events led to this decision:

The first was during Homecoming. It was a very exciting day. Especially since I had never been to any kind of Homecoming festivities before.

Shady came to my room because she was excited about being part of the Baton Line in the band. This would be her first time performing. We just laughed and talked for a while. We began taking pictures of each other and acting silly. After a while she left.

I did not know who I was going to spend the day with at this time. I ran into Quintin and a couple of members from the choir. We hung out for the rest of the day.

Langston won the game and the night festivities turned into a party atmosphere. I did not drink on this night since I was hanging out with choir members. We just basically walked around observing.

We left campus and began to walk down the road. It was so dark, because in the country there are no streetlights. That is when we saw headlights coming straight for us. We just kind of stood there in shock at first. As the car began to swerve, someone screamed and we all turned and ran.

I must have been confused and panicky because everyone jumped over the ditch. I, however, jumped up into the air and landed in a ditch full of red mud and water. I just got up in a daze and watched the taillights disappear into the night.

I know they saw us because I had on light silver and white. Even my shoes were reflective because they were the same color. When I got back to campus I was covered from head to toe in red mud. By that time I was laughing about it because I was so embarrassed.

The second reason I decided to leave is because of what happened on Halloween night 1996:

I spent the day in class. While I was in class there was a panty raid. That is when the boys raided the girl's dorm for panties. It was tradition. No harm was meant, but the freshman girl's were very upset. They retaliated and went over to the boys' dorm. They doused rooms and hallways with bleach and destroyed property.

That's when things got out of hand. The boys snapped. They went wild and tore up the campus. They broke windows and computers. They hit Young Hall with a vengeance.

This was another low point because I was high. I had smoked a blunt with Shady and Tasha. I was terrified and tweaking big time. There was a lot of screaming, so I ran to my room and put my bed in front of the door. I cried because I was high and if something had happened, I couldn't even defend myself. That is when I began thinking that maybe it was time for me to leave. I was messing up big time and I knew it.

There were threats that if any girls came to the cafeteria for lunch, they were going to get their ass kicked. So, I pretty much stayed in my room.

I had a hard time withdrawing from my English class. I had to persuade the instructor to sign my papers.

I went to his class high one time. When I would get high, I got very intellectual. When I went to his class that day, the other students basically disappeared. During the whole class we had a one-on-one debate. No one said a word. It was just he and I.

When I did decide to leave Langston, I spoke with my mother. She was so excited to have me come home. She kept telling me how worried she was and how much she loved me. I thought she really cared and that we would patch up our relationship. But once again naiveté is my forte.

# Chapter 12

When I arrived in Chicago, things were fine for a while. My mom and I got along pretty good.

She could not believe I smoked weed and cigarettes. She wanted me to prove to her that I smoked. She told me to inhale and blow it out of my nose, which I did. She smoked it all the time. She would always give me some. But she would not watch me smoke. She would send me into another room.

I got my job back at Ingalls. We lived in the city. The commute sucked, but I went back anyway. Frank had quit and I was very upset about that. Everyone else was still there though.

I began to have emotional problems again. I was always depressed and getting high. I was always drinking and crying about something, which I had no idea of what I was crying about. I would binge drink and pop pills.

Not too long ago I was told I would curse my mother out in a drunken rant. Not only did I disrespect her, but also I did it in front of others, which made it even worse. I had no idea I was doing this.

I was quick tempered at work. I was getting write-ups left and right because of my attitude. I would often hit the wall with my fist out of frustration. I was angry all of the time and I had nowhere to direct that anger. I would get angry very often and very quickly. I even began to get suicidal ideations all of the time.

My mom and I were all right I guess. We rarely talked, so the lines of communication were down as usual. I knew, in the back of my mind, she did not love me. She had already told me once. I think once that is said, it is hard to take it back.

Eventually she moved out. She said she wanted to move in with Jeff. They eventually got married.

Shady came to Chicago and we stayed together. Things began to slowly fall apart. Slowly I learned that Shady had no skills in independent living. She got a job at McDonald's, but she rarely went.

I worked to pay the rent and bills. She partied all the time. I partied with her on my off days and sometimes during the week. I handled the business though. I survived. She eventually fucked up.

I came home from work one day and found the apartment full of people. The crazy part about it was I didn't know any of them. Shady was nowhere to be found. I snapped and put everyone out.

When she came home I cursed her out. I could not believe she left all those people in my apartment alone. I put up with a lot of shit. We had fun, but this was the last straw. She had to get gone.

I stayed there for a while after she left. She eventually went back to Oklahoma. When she came to say goodbye, she told me she was pregnant. In a way I felt bad for her. I just could not deal with her being so irresponsible. That was the last time I saw her. I spoke to her on the phone some months later. She had a girl. She named her Imani. We lost touch after that.

I moved to the south suburbs. I found a studio apartment in Blue Island. I was at the peak of my mental problems. I cried excessively. I could no longer control my temper and I was plagued with suicidal thoughts. I had no idea what was wrong with me.

Half the time, I did not even know why I was crying. I was back in school at South Suburban College and I worked full-time.

At work they put up with me. I had to work in the linen room because of my mood swings. I could have been fired if it had not been for Debbie.

Debbie suggested that I get help. She was always talking to me. She was even trying to teach me how to drive. I could not believe she let me drive her car. It was a beautiful sports car, our favorite color (purple/plum). I was so nervous. I think she took me out twice and the car survived. (smile)

Anyway, I had health insurance, which was good. I did not know any psychiatrist. I asked my PCP (Dr. Ida Washington) and she recommended Dr. Anil Gandhi.

I was so deep into my depression, by this time, that Dr. Gandhi couldn't really get much out of me. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder/ Manic Depression. I had never been on a psych ward, except to pick-up or drop-off charts or patients. I guess there is a first time for everything.

I was eventually admitted to Christ Hospital. I did not know what to expect. I didn't talk to anyone because I didn't know what to say. I would try to tell those I thought were my friends that I felt suicidal, but they just made me feel worse. They would say stupid shit like "You must didn't do a good enough job cause your still here" or "Want me to help you"? I would think a friend would try to get me some help. Maybe call someone.

No one gave a damn. I think that is what hurt the most. It was not funny and it is not a joke. Mental illness is a serious illness that people do not understand. I was not looking for special attention or sympathy. I wanted help dealing with all this shit swimming around in my head.

I just felt the way I felt and I had no idea why. I was in Christ Hospital for about a week. This would be the first of many trips to the psych ward. I was on so many medications and had so many side effects hitting me back to back to back.

The Haldol injections were really the worse. It caused me to tremble and it threw off my coordination. All of the crap they had me on, had me in a trance. I had no emotion and no feelings. The only thing I felt WAS depression. The sadness was overwhelming and I felt like it was choking the life out of me.

I do not think Dr. Gandhi knew what to do. I had been admitted a few times. I still didn't know how to come out of it. I hated myself; I hated the world and the people in it. I was miserable.

After several tries, Dr. Gandhi told me about ECT's (Electroconvulsive Therapy). By this time I was willing to try anything. I had never heard of it before. He described the procedure and I agreed to it. I figured, if it killed me, so what, if it didn't, then maybe I would get better. I had nothing to loose. I wasn't even scared.

He did not fully explain the side effects. I think I was convulsed about eight times. I'm not sure. All I know is that the last time they did the procedure I could not tolerate the headache. It was unbearable. I was in so much pain it felt like my head was about to burst. I couldn't be still because of the pain. The nurse completely pissed me off. Here I was crying like a 2 year old and this heifer comes in with one Tylenol.

When the doctor came to speak to me the next day, my headache was gone. After talking with him for a while, I realized I could not remember a lot of things. He told me that it was normal and temporary. I was not all the way out of my depression, but it did help for a while.

I continued to see Dr. Gandhi and I even began to go to group therapy. We exercised and did crafts. I hated it and it did not seem to do any good. I was sent to a private therapist, which did not work out. Her name was Gale Rios. She was nice, but I kept criticizing her and she was only trying to help.

I did not know what to talk about. We sat there the whole hour looking at each other. I think if she had asked me a question, it would have given me an opportunity to open up. I broke off our appointments. She told me "If you leave do not come back". So I never did.

Shortly after that, I tried to kill myself again by popping pills and was admitted to the hospital again. The only thing is my insurance ran out because of so many admittances. I was transferred to the worse hospital I had ever been in, Tinley Park. Not only did they loose my clothes, but this place was absolutely filthy! When I left that hospital I vowed never to return there.

I attempted suicide two more times in 1999. I had just gotten out of the hospital when Pop's called to wish me a happy birthday. I was glad to hear from him. At this time, I had no idea I was going back to Texas so soon. I always said I would go back when I finished school and I told him as much when he called that day.

I awoke the morning after my birthday with a feeling of urgency in my spirit. I remember it was payday. I had an overwhelming urge to move to Texas. The feeling was unbearably strong. Something just wasn't right.

Before I could think about it any further I was on the horn with Pops. He asked me "Are you sure"? I didn't hesitate, I told him "yes". I was out of school for the summer. I had a couple of things to do before I left. He insisted on buying the ticket, but I told him "No".

I was asked so many times why I was leaving so suddenly? I could never give an answer because I did not know why. I just knew I had to go and no one could talk me out of it.

I withdrew my money from my savings account. I left an apartment full of furniture and broke my lease. I also gave notice to Derrick at work. One week later, I was ghost.

# Chapter 13

My father was ecstatic when I arrived in Texas. I was happy to see him as well. I had been back to Texas only once since 1993. I had gone down for my vacation and we spent a lot of time together.

We both loved to play pool, so that is what we did. Of course, I would win and he would claim he let me. He just didn't know that when I was younger and he was at work, I hung out in the pool hall.

Pop's and I got along most of the time. We had our share of arguments. Our favorite pass time was watching TV and debating on topics he thought I knew nothing about. At times I would have to provide proof that I knew what I was talking about because he was pig- headed at times. He thought he knew everything. That is usually how the arguments began.

Anyway, I chilled for a few months when I first got there. I just kind of took a break. We spent a lot of time together and I loved it. He was still working at DART. He worked there for like 19 years.

I basically did chores, cooked and watched TV. I eventually got restless. I have to do something productive with my time. I was off my medication at the time, but I was okay for a while.

I began to look for a job. That was really hard because we lived in Lancaster, Texas. We were out in the middle of nowhere. There was no public transportation to get anywhere. I had to wait until he felt like taking me to drop off resumes.

I really wanted to work at Baylor Hospital in Dallas. I checked out every hospital in South Dallas and Lancaster. I went to Baylor several times. I had several interviews. But nothing came of it.

Of course persistence pays off. I finally found a job. It was right there in Lancaster. My father kept telling me to check out the nursing homes about a mile down the road. Those were the last two places I went. I was hired at The Sterling House of Lancaster Assisted Living Facilities. (That's a mouth full)

It was a relaxed environment. I think that helped when it came down to the interview. Everyone was so nice. I got the job really quick. It did not pay much, but work is work.

Lisa, my boss, was so very nice. It was really easy to talk to her during the interview. I did not feel like I was under a microscope. She made me feel like I was speaking with an old friend and she was professional about it at the same time.

My previous positions at Lincoln Pharmacy and Ingalls Hospital enabled me to step right into the position and feel comfortable about it. I thought it odd that I was allowed to count and pass narcotics. I had to be trained on that.

The residents really took to me because I was the youngest worker. I laughed and joked with them. We had some Alzheimer patients and that took some getting use to. I learned how to be patient though. The Alzheimer patients were a new experience. Basically you had to be a salesman when it came to these patients. You have to sell them the idea of cooperating. It was not always easy though.

Lisa was very pleased with my work after I learned the routine. The staff and residents complimented me constantly on my work. Apparently the staff was lazy and I found that out for myself very quickly.

I do not get paid to be lazy. I can do that at home. I cannot stand lazy co-workers because I have to pick up the slack. Somebody has to do it and there is no such thing as "that's not my job".

Lisa was a very cool boss. I just did my job. I became the perfect employee because of my work ethics. I just worked myself to exhaustion because I was there so often. One pay period I pulled 99 hours. I had no choice but to slow down.

I was getting moody again for one thing. Another reason is I was becoming depressed again. The final reason is physically, my body could not take it.

During the Christmas party of 1999, things kind of got heated. One of the employees was about to leave and I told her she was wrong because she was on the schedule to work that night.

She was notorious for being lazy and I knew if she left I would stay. I didn't want to because I was already tired. I had been up all day. I was not going to leave them hanging though.

She got mad and we argued. I told her she was trifling and lazy. She walked out, so I stayed. I just thought to myself fuck it. I worked the whole weekend. I went home Saturday morning for about 8 hours and went back to work. I stayed until Monday morning.

The spell happened Sunday night, early Monday morning. I was the only worker there. The residents were in their apartments and I admit I did a half ass job. I was tired as hell. Sometimes, if we finish our work early, we could watch TV. Well, I dozed off.

My heart woke me up. It was beating funny. I could not move or speak. I saw one of the residents walk pass and I couldn't even call for help. I just closed my eyes and fell back to sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, I could move. I don't know what happened to my body, but as soon as the first person came in, I was on the phone with my father. I told him to get there now. By the time I finished counting the heavy hitting drugs my father was there. Lisa gave me three days off and I stayed in the bed the whole time.

I eventually became depressed again. I just could not shake it. I would get so angry. I just did not know what to do with it. I walked out in the middle of my shift in the middle of the night. It was pitch black outside and I walked all the way home, which was about a mile.

I could never say why I was so angry. What ever it was, I just couldn't deal with it and I was fired because of it. I stayed in my room for days and cried non-stop. I hated myself. I felt like I was always letting myself down. Things would be going so well then, BAM!

I think Delores spoke with Lisa. After being off of work for about two weeks Lisa offered me my job back.

I needed to see a psychiatrist and I didn't know where to go. I had spoken to Delores several times about it because I needed help. She told me to talk to Lisa because she was a social worker and I did.

My father upset me when I told him I needed anti-psychotic medications. He did not understand the illness I was dealing with. I had never told my daddy about my struggles with mental illness. Mental illness did not begin to affect my life until I was 19 years old. He gave me no support.

I understand it more now than I did back then. In the African-American community, mental illness is rarely talked about or understood for that matter. If you are known to have a mental illness, a stigma surrounds you and a lot of people do not want to deal with you on any level. Because of this, talking about it is taboo.

I was not too comfortable talking to Lisa about it, but it turned out to be okay. She helped me find somewhere to go and even drove me when a appointment became available.

I was able to speak with a psychiatrist and a therapist. I was even able to get medications for free. I could not believe they gave me free medication. I just knew I would need insurance.

Anyway, my vacation came up and by this time, Pops was out of work. He had gotten fired after 19 years of work. He was given a Breathalyzer test and he failed. He did not drink in the mornings, so I knew he was not drunk. Every morning he gargled with Dr. T and the test read that he had been drinking.

We were surviving off my checks and he would borrow money, but it was all right. Besides, he always took care of me. He won the lottery some time later and received $2500 from that. He put some of it on the car because he was almost finished paying for it, gave me some money (I put it up), and he also paid some bills. He just sat around the house pissed off all the time drinking.

He cheered up on those nights I spent time with him. We would sit and talk about just about everything. It was always just he and I. Nobody ever came to visit him. The only person that called was his mother. I think that hurt him more than anything, because he was always there for everyone financially when he was working.

I went on vacation, but I was reluctant because I could tell something was wrong that he was not telling me. He was back and forth to the doctor so often, but he was not telling me anything. He insisted that I go to Georgia, so I went.

I stayed in Georgia for ten days. I called because I made him promise to go to the hospital and have a check up. He told me he did. He would not tell me what the doctor said.

When I got home, after a few days, I noticed he was wearing a shirt I gave him around the house. I did not think about it at first. Then I noticed he was wearing a shirt all the time. That was unusual because he always went topless, especially in the summer. I kept asking him what was going on? He would say either nothing or he would tell me in time when he found out.

He was always coughing. And then he began to tell me he loved me all the time. He kept saying I was the best daughter a man could ever have. Can you imagine the power of my suspicion? My thoughts were consumed because I did not know what was wrong.

One day I was in my room watching television and he asked me to come into the front room. When I got there he said that he was sick and he showed me his cup that he had been spitting in. It had a lot of blood in it. Then he took off his shirt and I had my answer. I knew what it was. It became very clear to me.

There was a huge lump. It was roughly about three inches in width and two inches thick. I had noticed a small lump above his eye, but I thought nothing of it. Until now that is. I made him go to the hospital right then. He said he would go after he finished his beer. I took it from him and told him he was through. I even brought him his shoes. I could plainly see that it was cancer and it had apparently spread. I needed confirmation.

My question was what kind of cancer was it? I knew Pops had a drinking problem and we had arguments about that. He also smoked too much.

When I forced him to go to the hospital, they kept him. He did not have insurance so we knew they were not going to keep him too long. They said they did not know what it was and they did not have the equipment to do the necessary tests. I could understand that since it was a very small hospital out in Lancaster.

We went to Parkland Hospital in Dallas. His health was going down hill so fast. I did not know what to do. I had to drive him and I did not know how to drive. I did not have a license or permit. The speed limit on the expressway was 70 mph. I was so beyond terrified it was not funny. Trial and a lot of errors taught me how. I am lucky to be alive. I learned very quickly. This is because he would be asleep before we hit the corner.

They ran test on an outpatient basis. He did have cancer. They said it was Mesothelioma. I did a little research to find out what it was. It is a cancer formed from inhaling asbestos fibers. Those fibers stick to your lungs and over time, they inevitably cause cancer.

The devastating part was that the cancer was so bad they could not do anything for him. By this time he was going down so fast, we were not prepared at all.

No papers were signed (POA, DNR). They were about to foreclose on the house and he always told me if something happened to him he wanted to die at home. He hated hospitals.

No one thought I could take care of him, hell, I did not think I could do it. But I did. I was told to put him in the nursing home. I was confused and afraid. I have never cried so much in my life. That was not what he wanted and I did not know if I could handle finding him dead. All I could do was pray about it. I knew then, why leaving Chicago was so urgent. I remember his last lucid day.

He got up, watched a little television, took a bath and went to bed. I couldn't get him up the next day. He was in too much pain. He had a bowel movement in the bed. I could not maneuver him in the bed because the bed was too big. I had no choice but to call an ambulance.

They kept him for a few days, at the hospital, so I could set everything up with hospice. I had decided to bring him home. I knew he was going to die, but I did not know how to get anything done. I was handling everything by myself and I was only 24 years old and an only child.

Everyone else had his or her hand out. They thought there was going to be this big lawsuit because of the meso. My concerns were how to keep the house long enough so he could die at home and how the hell am I going to bury him.

I went through every paper in the house. There were no insurance papers. I didn't know what to do. I was lost and totally confused. Pops came home and my hands were full.

The first night he was home I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke, he was on the kitchen floor naked. He had fallen asleep. He had to have been down there for a while. The nurse was just arriving and she helped me get him back into bed.

I forgot the golden rule of home health care; make sure the rails are up on the hospital bed at all times. I had to be more careful. After that I was always awake. I had to go back to work so Candace, my best friend stayed with him at night. I napped at work when I finished my chores.

His ex-wife, Brenda watched him one night, which I never should have done. She stole their divorce papers. She failed to realize those papers were a matter of public record. I could have went to the courthouse and gotten them.

Like I said, everyone thought they were about to get paid. I, on the other hand had other things on my mind.

He was in excruciating pain all the time. The liquid morphine did not work and I could not keep giving it to him. I was up non-stop, for days, because I took a leave from work. Meanwhile, he was wasting away.

His mother came to see him and he was very angry with all of them. He put them out. He concentrated long enough just to do that. I could not say anything because I was upset at them to. They did not come see him or anything. Better yet, I had to do this shit all by myself. I was pissed then and I am pissed now.

His brother Wayne never came by or called until right after he died. Guess what he wanted? He wanted his name on the deed to the house. I told him, "I'd rather have them take it" and I hung up on his ass. He didn't even come to the funeral. Family!

The next day I called the nurse because he was not responding to anything. She told me he was holding on for something. She told me I had to talk to him to let him know I was going to be okay because he was suffering.

I spoke with him, but I did not want him to go. He was supposed to be here with me. But he was suffering too much. I told him I could always take care of myself. He knew that. I promised him I would finish school. I told him how much I loved him. That it was okay to go.

I finally had to lie down for the first time in days. I made a pallet next to his bed. I hate that I did that. I hate that I went to sleep. When I awoke the morning of August 25, 2000, he was gone. I cannot explain the emotion I was feeling. I just paced. When I calmed down, I called hospice and then the law firm.

The doctor that was to do the autopsy pronounced him dead and they took the body. I had to see them carry my daddy off in a plastic bag and it crushed me. He was 6' 1" and he weighed about 85lbs at the time of death. He had wasted away to practically skin and bones.

I never thought I would watch someone I loved so much suffer and die the way he did. Every second I had to watch, killed off a little piece of me I thought I would never get back.

I remember looking into his eyes and seeing them filled with blood. He died with his eyes open and the blood vessels in his eyes had burst. I realized then, he could no longer see me. He would never see me again. I could hear him for a long time after his death, moaning in agony.

He would call me into the room, because he was unsure if he was hallucinating, which he was. The dreams I had after he was gone were unbearable. I was relieved when I had to leave his house because of foreclosure.

I had no idea how I was going to bury him. That is when Baron and Budd Law Firm stepped in. They said they could not take the case. The investigators spoke to the president of Baron and Budd and he offered to pay for the funeral.

That was a blessing. I had mentioned it once. That was when they came to the hospital to record my father and get his Will signed. I could not believe that there were people out there that would do something like that. They paid for everything. They even bought him a headstone that said "Pops" on it. They still have a special place in my heart. Attorney Tim Ketchersid handled all paperwork and legalities pro bono. They were my angels.

I snapped out afterward. I did not cry at the funeral, because my anger at God and my father's family consumed me. I said some things I would never repeat, to God and I had to fall on my knees to apologize to Him. I just felt like there was a fire burning in my chest all the time. I walked around in a daze and I could not sleep.

It was the day before foreclosure and I was lying on the couch watching TV. The next thing you know I wasn't able to move, my heart was pounding 200 miles per hour and there were a lot of noise in my head. It was like a lot of people having different conversations at once. I really do not know why that happened. I still do not today. I still hold back my tears, but I think about him all the time.

I was arrested soon after and sent to the hospital. I was threatening to blow my head off. I just did not know how to handle it and my heart could not breathe.

I do not know what hospital I was taken to. I think it may have been Parkland. I am not sure. When I arrived at the hospital, I tried to bash this woman's head in with a chair because she was talking some crazy shit. I was tackled from behind.

They had to sedate me. I was out for three days (so I was told). I don't even remember being transferred. They said I walked to the van and everything. I do not know which hospital I was transferred to.

When I was released, I stayed in Dallas/Duncanville with my friends Candace and Bonnie (Pops ex-girlfriend/BFF). I did not have any money. I was fired because I went off on a resident and cursed her out. I knew I would not be offered my job back after that.

I was still unable to handle my emotions and I kept getting into it with Bonnie. All she tried to do was help. I was just so angry all the time. All I could do was wait for Social Security to send my father's check. That took months. It turned out to be over $8,000.

As soon as the money came, I had $800 worth of work done on the car and the next day, I drove home to Chicago. I was a little afraid of driving alone, but I just did it. At one point during the trip, I was so sleepy I almost entered the expressway on the exit ramp. Traffic was heading straight for me, but they stopped and let me turn around. I got a motel room after that.

# Chapter 14

I stayed with my sister when I first arrived. I enjoyed it some, but the one thing I failed to remember is how my sister and I had not gotten along since we were kids. She can be very loud, a bully, insensitive and argumentative. By the time I arrived in Chicago, I was drinking very heavily so it did not help the situation between us either.

I was looking for a job and at the same time I was trying to find other options because I needed to be able to take care of myself. I applied for SSI and received SSD. That did not kick in for about a year.

I eventually moved out of my sisters' house and in with my Auntie Brenda (Neckbone). There was just too much emotional drama at my sisters' house.

I found a job at Little Company of Mary Hospital. This was another weird event. I was sitting at my Aunts computer looking up other job openings that I could apply for. I had an over- whelming feeling that I needed to go back to Little Company. I had already been and I had left a resume.

When I get that feeling, I just do what I feel. I really did not want to go back because Little Company of Mary Hospital was quite a ways from my Aunts house. But I left at that moment. I filled out an application and left another resume. They called me two days later.

I had to leave my Aunts though. This is because I beat Mac's ass. If you knew Mac at that time, you would know why. She should have done that a long time ago. It was long over due, but in all honesty it was not my job. He was just messing with me at the wrong time.

I had an arrangement for an apartment on Damen, but it was not ready yet. I had to move in with another aunt, Auntie Rena, for the weekend. That Monday, I had my own apartment. It was a dump, but it was mine.

Lamar stayed with me for a while. We got a long fine because we were both drunks. I was very depressed, but I had promised God I would not try to kill myself again.

I was drinking very heavily, popping pills and smoking weed. I had bought a half a gallon of Paul Mason and I drank it in a week all by myself.

I was in a total destructive pattern where I would go to the liquor store and pick up men. We would have sex and I would send him on his way. One man was a stripper and I got a show all night.

I had no inhibitions. I was going downhill and I did not care. This was after Lamar left and I do not even remember why he left. My landlord died and I moved to Calumet Park.

I went back to school, Morraine Valley College, but I was still drinking. I would wash my meds down with E&J VSOP.

I sincerely tried to breathe oxygen back into my life, but I could find no balance or happiness. I tried to create a sense of normalcy by working and going to school, but I just could not pull it together.

My Auntie Linda kept trying to get me back into church. So, I would go over her house for the weekends where I would continue my binge. I went to choir rehearsal with them. She wanted me to join the church so I can "put Gods gift to work". She worked hard to get me in church and I finally joined.

I wasn't really into it at first. I would sleep the whole service. I would dress any kind of way. Rev. Ellis never said a word. If he judged me, I did not know about it. None of the congregation said anything. They waited for me to wake up. I did, but I continued to drink heavily.

I still had issues. Problems like when I had a herniated disk and I could not walk. The pain was unbearable. By this time I was living back on Kimbark, above Auntie Linda. Nothing the doctors did helped me. I was smoking weed just to relieve the pain. I was on the couch for almost a year.

I was attending Malcolm X College when my back went out, so I had to drop out of school. I was trying to get into the Surgical Technology program. I was also struggling with my drinking habit. I couldn't figure out why I could not stop drinking. It was like I needed it. I could not sleep unless I was drunk. My mind was like ticker tape. It was constantly running.

I managed to leave the weed a lone for a while. I began to pray hard about my back. Through prayer I was able to function. I was finally able to go back to school. I wanted to get into the Surgical Technology program, but I had to wait a year. So instead of sitting around, I did my prerequisites. I aced them all in a drunken haze.

While I attended school, I managed my household as well as my grandfathers' household. I truly enjoyed my grandfather. Yes, he got on my nerves from time to time, but he was a special man that did not play.

His name was Fred Harris Brown Jr. He loved me that was evident. I kept his house clean, made sure he had eaten and took care his wife. Sometimes, I just kept him company. I enjoyed spending time with him.

If he needed to go out and take care of business, I would make sure Vera was well taken care of. He did not pay me in funds, but he did other things.

Like, for example, I was complaining about my back. He asked me what was wrong? I told him I had a herniated disk in my back and my bed made it worse because there was a dip in it. He bought me a bed.

He was always feeding me. He loved good food. He was a big man. He would always ask me what I wanted to eat? I would always go for the inexpensive thing because I do not like to take advantage of people.

But he knew what I liked. If he went out, he would bring me a big basket of fried shrimp with sauce. Man was that good! Or he would send me to the store to get him tea and skins (I got him hooked on Baken-Its). He would tell me to get me a T- Bone steak and what ever else I wanted, which was usually a potato and A-1 Sauce.

When he laughed his belly rolled. He was just a joy. I can still hear his voice when he answered the phone. It was deep, masculine and aggravated.

All while I tended to my Grandpop, I attended school and got drunk every night. I would borrow money just to get a drink. I went to class either still drunk or nursing a hang over.

I did well in school though. I finished my prerequisites and I was ready for the surgical tech program. Everything was done except Sociology 101 and 102. There were two problems though.

First, I had to do an interview with Mrs. McDuffy to get into the program. At the time, of course, I did not know her from a can of paint without a label. So I was extremely nervous. I suck at interviews. I was really surprised how easy it was to talk to her. I was comfortable until the fire alarm went off. It threw me off for a nanosecond because I was so focused. But, the interview still went really well.

Secondly, I was running out of financial aid. You see my first career choice was to study to be a surgeon. I could never get it off the ground though, because of life. Over the span of ten years, I took pre-med classes in the hopes of one day attending medical school. It never happened. That is why when I found out about surgical technology, I jumped on it. I told myself if I could not become a surgeon, at least I could assist.

I had to find some way to pay for this program. Then I remembered, while I worked at Little Company of Mary Hospital one of my coworkers told me about a program at the Department of Human Services. They worked with people with disabilities and sometimes paid for school. I was on SSD. I got their number and I called.

# Chapter 15

The Department of Human Services was located on 91st and Stoney Island. It was not too far from my residence. I had never noticed it before.

They were, very much, a blessing. They worked with me. They bought: paper, pens, a backpack, books and paid for whatever else financial aid did not pay for. I will be forever grateful to them.

I was accepted into the program and I was overjoyed. My first semester in the program began in August of 2005. I knew this would be difficult.

I took care of my grandfather and his wife for some years. I attended school as well. I was over my grandfather's house five to six days out of the week and I was studying like mad.

I was always in my books. There was so much information to absorb. Mrs. McDuffy did not play. You had to know the information. The tests were sometimes confusing and very difficult. I managed to keep my grades up, take care of my grandparents and drink myself into a coma every night. I was determined, but hurting.

I wanted this very badly. Not just for me, but I had to keep my promise to my father. Promises are very important to me. I do not make them, unless I can keep them.

With me having bipolar disorder, this juggling act eventually became too much. A lot of people thought that I was not going to finish or I should quit. There was absolutely no way I was going to quit. Semester one, I was managing until IT happened. I became manic.

Lord, why did that have to happen now? For one full week, I was literally crazy. But you know what? In my madness, I took my ass to school. My classmates knew my shame now and for a moment, I was embarrassed.

This was during one of those rare moments my mom and I were talking. She told me, "Don't be embarrassed. This is nothing new. Never be afraid of who you are. You are a servant. You take care of people when they need you. You are bipolar, that is a part of you". I have not been embarrassed since.

I could not focus or get anything done during this week of insanity. I was all over the place, literally bouncing off the walls. I had not slept one wink in a week.

Then one day, after class, I went straight to Provident Hospital. I had no appointment. I did not call before hand. Dr. Mallick took one look at me and said, "Everything is going be okay". He wrote me out a prescription for Lithium and I went downstairs to the pharmacy. I waited in line for four hours for that prescription.

It took about another week of no studying to get right. Once I did, I had to have a sit down with Mrs. McDuffy. I had not studied in two weeks and we had a test that day. We talked. I told her about my shame. She was very understanding. She said, "I don't know how you are going to do it, but you have to catch up and keep up".

From there it was a mad dash. I barely went to see granddaddy. I ducked my head in when I could, but for the most part, I was in those books. I passed the test I missed and managed to keep up with the class.

You talking about exhausted, I don't think there was a word to describe it. My first semester in the program ended with me receiving honors. I had built my G.P.A up to a 3.0.

I was proud of myself, but I wasn't finished. I had 1 1/2 years left. I knew it would be difficult. I think I was more afraid of failing than anything else. I had been through enough trying to get this one thing accomplished. From where I was standing, at the time, I saw possible instead of impossible.

I was over my grandfathers' house when I had time. In my free time I drank myself into a stupor. At home I studied and stayed drunk when I wasn't studying. Lamar would swing in from time to time to spend the weekend.

I thought I was doing well by the end of the spring semester. When it seemed all was well, Mrs. Mateo let the air out of my balloon. I received an "F". She came up with some bull that did not make sense. I wanted to see my grades and she would not let me.

I went to Mrs. McDuffy and she said there was nothing she could do. I had to wait to take the class over next January. I had to wait 6 months. I was so angry.

Not only that, my G.P.A. dropped to like a 2.6. It did not stay there long though. But the whole ordeal hurt like hell. I took two classes during my break from the program, Sociology 101 and 102. I got A's.

In January, I took the class I failed over. It was the only class I had the whole semester and I passed with a "B". I had a different instructor. In June there was Pharmacology, which I aced. I also had to take Sterile Processing at Rush University Hospital. I received a "B".

When fall of 2007 came, I was giddy with excitement. During the first day of class everything we would be doing for the next year was outlined. I realized then that I would have to cut down on my time with granddaddy. He did not take it too well, but what could either of us do. I had to get up at 4a.m. and be in the O.R. at Stroger (County) Hospital by 6:15a.m.

I was on the south side of Chicago and the school was on the west side. I had to be on time. Tardiness was not tolerated. They had already made an example out of my friend Cynthia. She was only late a couple of times and only by 2 or 3 minutes. They failed her.

We were in the O.R. four days out of the week and we still had class after intern and on Mondays. Not to mention all of the studying.

I still found a way to drink my poison. I would be in the bathroom at the school in the mornings throwing up, because I had a hangover. Sometimes I would be sluggish. But I could not wait to see my first surgery.

The O.R is another world in itself. There are no windows. Some people do not know if it is raining, snowing or even if it is daylight. Being in the OR is like being in a shell. You can be in there for 12 hours and not peek outside once.

There is also a wealth of knowledge that is insurmountable. Everyone knows their job, if they did not people would loose their life. The fragility of life in that place was palpable.

Like the bodies ability to maintain a healthy medium (homeostasis), the O.R. runs the same way. The workers work together to maintain a healthy environment for the patient and also to make sure everything runs smoothly. It can be a well- oiled machine if done according to policy.

I made the mistake of telling a Gynecologic Nurse that I was Bipolar. I should have never done that. They watched me like a hawk once the news got around. It was like they were waiting for me to snap out or something. They never got their show. I was just trying to survive and take in all of the information presented to me.

I finished the program in the spring of 2008. I graduated May 9th with a G.P.A of 2.9. I received a certificate of completion and an Associate in Applied Science degree. I was so happy.

I asked my mom to come to my graduation and at first she was not going to attend. When she heard the disappointment in my voice she and Daddy Jeff came. I wanted Linda to come also, but she could not get a flight out in time. I was a little disappointed, but I understood. That night after the graduation, I got ripped out of my mind.

I graduated and prepared to take the Certification Exam. I was afraid to take it. I just knew I was going to fail it. I was told that few people passed it the first time. I knew it was expensive. I did not want to waste time and money. I did not have to pay for the exam myself. The Department of Human Services was going to pay for it. But it does not matter whose money was paying for it, I did not want to waste it.

I took my time scheduling the test. Finally I got up the nerve to take it. One day I was sitting on the couch watching television. Next thing you know, I was on the phone making an appointment to take the test. When I hung up the phone I said to myself "You must be out of your damn mind to think you gon pass that damn test".

I took the test on November 12, 2008. When I arrived, I learned that I would have a camera directly in my face. That made my nerves even worse. I focused on the screen the entire time. I was afraid to look anywhere else. The only time I looked down was when I got to pharmacology questions. I had to figure some of those out.

The test was extremely difficult. I just knew I was getting more questions wrong than right. It took about 2 hours to complete the exam and there were 250 questions. The exam was graded before I could leave.

I passed! I couldn't believe it! I kept asking the lady was she sure? I think I irritated her a little. She got a little jazzy with that last response. I almost couldn't contain myself. It was raining outside and I swear it was sunny to me!

# Chapter 16

After some time, Auntie Linda decided she could no longer handle taking care of the house. I had to move. I looked for another place within my budget. When I did find apartments that I could afford, they were in the worse neighborhoods Chicago had to offer.

I moved in with my sister because it was the most affordable decision at the time and she needed help with her bills. I was excited at first. I was looking forward to hanging with my nephews.

I tried to help out as much as possible. Of course I had that demon on my back, drinking. I made sure there was food and dinner for my boys as well as for Ke-Ke. I knew we all liked to eat, so I did my best to keep food stocked. That took a lot of cash. I helped pay bills and just helped out as best I could. It did not take long for me to realize I was being taken advantage of.

Yes I was a drunk, but I was not a stupid drunk. I always made sure the bills were paid before I cracked open my bottle. I was spending all my money on food and bills. There was very little left after that. Meanwhile Ke-Ke was shopping for clothes and luxuries; I did not appreciate that.

I had to find ways to go grocery shopping. Why should I have to ask someone to take me grocery shopping when I am spending $150-$200 of my cash, not food stamps to feed my sister and my nephews? She had a car!

Then she began to complain to me that my nephew should not have to do the dishes. I was to do them. I'm thinking to myself, I buy the food, I cook the food, I am helping pay the bills, I'm not understanding the problem.

My nephew needed some responsibility other than sitting on his ass eating and doing nothing. I was already doing the dishes as I cooked, so it was not as if there was a lot for him to do. I was not happy and it showed in the empty bottles in the trash.

I went to the library as much as I could because I really wanted to put my degree to use. I would walk there or take the bus. I was constantly revising and working on my resume. I filled out countless applications and I heard no reply.

This went on for quite a while. My sister and I were always at odds with each other. I just wanted to make her life easier as well as mine. I wanted to be with my nephews, but I knew it wasn't going to work.

Hell, she cursed me out because I wanted to spend her birthday with her. I gave my nephew a dose of encouragement by telling him to work hard to achieve his dreams. I told him he was a Jackson and Jackson's never give up. She cursed me out for that. I just could not win for loosing with that woman. I irritate her for some reason, so I just stay away.

One night I was drinking and became hungry. I decided to go downstairs and get the T- Bone steak my grandfather had bought me. I came back upstairs and realized I had forgotten the A-1 sauce. I turned back around at the top of the stairs and began to sway. I was confused about what step I was supposed to step on. Well, I chose the wrong step and fell breaking one of the bones in my ankle.

I knew it hurt, but I was so drunk I was able to get back up the stairs without it hurting too bad. When I looked back down the stairs, I could see the dog trolliping off with my T- Bone in his mouth and his tail held high.

I laid across my bed and fell right off to sleep. When I awoke, I could not put any weight, at all, on my ankle. It was a few days before I decided to go to Little Company of Mary Hospital.

I could not get around for a while. Once I went upstairs to my room, I could no longer manage the steps. I could not get myself anything to eat. I would go hungry because I could not go down the stairs. I would cry because I could not go anywhere or do anything. Taking a shower was a balancing act and very difficult. I just took my time.

I had planned a trip to Georgia to visit Linda and her family. I did not know if I would be able to make it.

My birthday rolled around and I was so depressed. I cried my whole birthday. I had to wear this big boot all the time (which I still have). I guess it was better than having a cast. At least I could take it off sometimes. By July, I was managing well enough for me to get to Georgia.

I was so excited about seeing Linda, Anthony, and Dion. I loved the Ricks family as if they were my own family. I consider myself as having one extended family. My love for them was validated the moment I saw their faces. I really enjoyed my visit and I loved Georgia. It seemed peaceful.

The question was raised whether I wanted to come back to stay. I thought about the pros and cons. I weighed the decision every which way I could. I finally determined that maybe I would see if Georgia was for me and I decided to go back to live.

I think Linda thought I was going to change my mind, because she kept calling me. I did not know what I was looking for, but I knew I should go back. I wanted a change but at the time I did not know how to accomplish that.

I was completely lost, confused about my purpose on earth. I did not know what to expect. I was an empty shell of what I once was. The determined young lady that I was before my dad died, had fallen away. There was nothing left of her at that time.

A few years back, I took out a life insurance policy because I was waiting to die. I just wanted to make sure I had a headstone. I also did not want to cause my family any grief with having to bury me.

I went back to Chicago in order to save money. I moved out of my sisters' apartment and moved in with Auntie Linda. She told me not to pay her anything. She told me to save my money.

Auntie Linda has never judged me to my face. If she did judge me, she kept it to herself. She supported my decision to move to Georgia. She thought that maybe it would spark a change in me. She understood.

Everyone else kept asking, "Why are you moving to Georgia"? I could not answer them. I did not know why. I just knew there was something I needed. I had to find out what it was. I knew I would miss Auntie Linda and Neckbone the most.

I left Chicago September 10, 2009. I embarked on a life-changing journey and I had no idea what my leaving Chicago would mean for me.

# Chapter 17

I arrived in Georgia on September 11, 2009. I saw Linda and she gave me a long hug. I had known the Ricks family since I was 16. Linda's son, Lamar and I had been dating off and on since then.

Lamar did not know that I had finally made it to Georgia. For a time we had discussed moving to Georgia, but at the time I was in school. I could not move on the dime like that.

I had always loved Linda more than she would ever know. I was happy that I could be back in her life. I had no idea that by this being a different time and space, our relationship would be far different from when I was young.

I was a shattered soul when I first arrived in Georgia. I was 33 years old. Physically, I felt fine. Emotionally and mentally I felt ready for retirement. I felt so much older than my 33 years.

Linda cared in a way that no one had. She told me exactly what it was and she did not censor it. She doesn't bite her tongue. Sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes bad. Sometimes I wish she wouldn't be so honest with her feelings, but have come to expect that.

When I first arrived in Georgia I was still doing what I do best, drink. Linda was constantly there though. She was constantly in my ear. Most of the time she worked my nerves.

I stayed in Hirem, Georgia for about a month. At the time, my roommate was Linda's niece, Tamika. She was okay. We got along to a point. I loved her two children though.

When I first arrived in Hirem, I was a little taken back. This is because it was far away from the rest of the Ricks clan (one of my reasons for coming to Georgia) and also there really was no transportation. Everything seemed so close, but yet so far. All I could really do was stay in the house, watch television and drink, which I did constantly.

The first week I was there it rained non-stop. It never really slowed down. I had never seen so much rain in all my life. I felt isolated, trapped and totally depressed. I was crying on a daily basis. There was a television, but all we could do was watch VHS movies on it. We had no real track to the outside world except our phones.

I refused to sign the lease because I did not think I was going to stay in Hirem very long. It just did not feel right.

Tamika was feeling lonely and depressed as well. She missed her family in East Chicago. She did not tell me she had sent for her brother and his girlfriend until the last minute. When they got to the apartment, it did not take long for things to get out of control.

We got along for a minute because we all enjoyed the same thing, drinking. Her brother and his girlfriend would get into it all the time. They were always arguing. At times the fights would carry out into the parking lot, disturbing the peace. It got to the point where I would just hold the baby until she fell asleep. I would try to comfort her. The complaints came rolling in and we were threatened with eviction. After that things seemed to calm down for a while.

A trip was planned to visit in the E.C. and I asked if I could go. We drove all night to Chicago. I was so excited about going home for a minute that I forgot my mother was sending me a $100 money order to help buy food.

Anyway, we arrived in Chicago very early in the morning and I stayed with my Auntie Linda for a couple of days. I enjoyed myself.

Once I got to Chicago, I received some money so I called Tamika to let her know I was going to reimburse her for my trip to Chicago. She said okay. I had no idea they had left me in Chicago.

Apparently Cookie (Tamika's mom) spilled the beans to Linda. Linda called me and asked me, " Did you know Tamika and them left for Georgia already"? I told her I did not know. I thought I was stuck in Chicago. Thankfully, Linda was in Chicago visiting and told me when she was ready to go, I could ride back with her.

I did not get to see my mother during that trip. Come to think of it, I had not seen my mother since May 9, 2008, graduation day. I did get to see my aunts though.

I slept the whole trip back to Georgia. When we got back to Georgia, I stayed with Linda.

My mom sent the money order, but I never received it. Either Tamika, her brother or his girlfriend got to it and cashed it. I needed that money to help me find another place to live. I was very angry.

I reported the money order stolen. I gave the detectives all of their names and phone numbers. I was dead serious. That was trifling for them to steal like that. My mom scraped up that money so "We" could eat. She did not have to send anything for them, but she did.

When I called the detectives on them, there was a barrage of threatening phone calls. Even Lamar, the man I loved called and threatened me. He cursed me out on my cell phone voicemail. I let his mother listen to it. I did not back down though.

Tamika's brother tried to talk to me as well, but I was not hearing it. Tamika, herself, threatened me, I hung up on her. I could have made their life hell over something as petty as abandonment and a $100 money order.

The only reason I relented is because I thought about their kids. I also thought to myself that God could handle them better than I ever could. I have not spoken to Tamika, her brother or his girlfriend since.

Linda helped me find an apartment. I was working with very little funds. I stayed with her a week. She took me out to Hirem to get my things. You could look in her face and see how pissed she was. When Linda says she is through with you, she is not playing.

I moved into my apartment at Mableton Reserve on October 10, 2009. I could finally rest, find peace and drink. My free time was consumed with alcohol, pills and weed. I was destroying myself and Linda kept asking me why? I had no answer for it.

Eventually, Lamar called to apologize after he found out the truth. I accepted his apology. I was offended he believed someone else and not me, but...

I hung out with Linda a lot. It struck me that she seemed to be the only one bent on breaking me from my addiction, but I did not know how to quit. At the time, I enjoyed it. I was dependent on it. If I was not drunk, I could not sleep. I did not want to think or feel anything and drinking accomplished that goal for me.

On March 27, 2010 I attended Ms. D's birthday party. I did not drink much that night. I was really waiting until I went home. I was outside smoking a cigarette and my phone rang. It was Lamar. There had been talk of Lamar coming to Georgia to stay but no one believed him, including me.

He called to ask if he could stay with me for a while. I immediately said, "yes" without thinking. We were all happy about it. After I came to my senses, I changed my mind because Lamar had a temper that I had met twice before:

One night, he was upset because I threw a cup at him and left. I had an outburst of anger at the time. To be honest, I do not know why I was angry. He was playing with his phone and I just became upset for no reason.

Anyway, when I came back home he tried to put me to sleep by putting me in a sleeper hold. I fought it with all that I had. He did not succeed with putting me to sleep. He did, however, mess up my equilibrium for a couple of days because the whole time he held me in that hold, my brain was not getting oxygen.

When he let me go, I tricked him by getting him to go get cigarettes. When he left I called the police and they came and arrested him. I had a restraining order filed after that.

A few years later, he put his hands on me again because I refuse to take him home in the middle of the night. I told him I could not take him home because I would have to wake my Auntie to ask if I could use her car.

This time he was more ruthless. He choked me until I submitted. He made me undress. He told me he was going to have anal sex with me, something I would never let him do.

He had me standing in the front room naked. Auntie Linda lived downstairs from me at the time. She heard us bumping around so she kept calling to see what was going on. At first, he would not let me answer the phone. When he did let me answer he told me, "You better not say anything I don't like".

She asked me "Is everything okay, what yall doing"? I told her "yes". She asked, "Do I need to come up"? I told her "yes". I hung up the phone. While I was still naked, she unlocked my front door and came upstairs. He did not know she had a key to my apartment. He was surprised. While still naked and my Auntie standing at the door, I called the police. He was taken away in handcuffs.

This is why I did not want him to come down. He told me he would never put his hands on me again. I have to give him that, he kept his promise.

I told him to come on. I missed and loved him. I thought everything would be cool, that maybe we could build something together. I was a bit delusional on that thought.

# Chapter 18

When Lamar arrived in Georgia, the drinking and smoking weed was kicked up a notch. I would get so high and drunk I would blackout. This is when I found out that I blackout. I would not remember anything from the night before.

This happened several times. When I finally realized what was happening, it scared me. I had heard many horror stories about blackouts. I would often wake up naked not knowing if I even had sex the night before.

One night we went to a club with friends. We came out of the club. I said, "I don't see the car". Next thing I know, I woke up naked and it was daylight. I do not remember anything after we came out of the club.

My drinking had gotten so bad that Linda told me I was no longer allowed to drink in her presence or her house. I respected that.

I attended group therapy for a while. It did not help. The therapist wanted to talk about leading a productive life. How could I be productive when I have a backlog of shit tripping me up? There were things I had not dealt with in my pass, so how could I move forward?

Slowly, I began to realize what I was doing. I kept asking myself, "Why am I doing this to myself"? I began to tire of the whole routine.

When Lamar asked me if he could sell drugs, I told him "No". I told him he was not about to get me arrested. If he brought drugs into my house and was caught, we were both going to get arrested. He asked me, "Don't you want to get drunk and high everyday"? I looked at him and told him "No". From there, slowly, ever so slowly, I began to change.

I knew I was lost. My mom and I were trying really hard to build some kind of relationship. All I could tell her is "I am so lost right now Ma". I did not know what to do, so I did the only thing I knew how to do at the time; I began to read chapters at a time from my Bible. Every, single day I read. It was 2010.

I had no clue as to what I was reading. Not only that, but it was a hassle reading my Bible because it was so raggedy, the pages kept falling out. I asked Erica could I borrow one of her Bibles? She gave me a _Women's Devotional Bible (NIV)_. I understood it more clearly.

I read everyday before I got drunk. Then Auntie Linda asked me did I want her to send me _The Daily Bread?_ I told her "yes". Everyday I read. Eventually, she subscribed for me and I began to get them every three months. I drank. I read. I drank. I read. I drank. I read. I began to question myself. Why do I drink? I would never let myself answer that question.

I began to question my relationship with Lamar. I knew I loved him. I knew he would probably never change, because he loved drinking and getting high too much. I knew I was living in sin. Even when I was high, I began to see the situation for what it was. I was transforming on the inside and I questioned everything about myself.

I began to talk with Linda about it, but she did not understand. In fact she made me feel as if something was wrong with me, because I did not want to be with her son anymore.

She would always tell me how I felt. How much I loved Lamar. She told me how much I would regret it if I put Lamar out. I trusted what she said more than my own feelings.

She would constantly put me down. I was told I couldn't accomplish the goals I had set before me because I was bipolar. I was called "Weak", "Stupid" or "Dumb" on numerous occasions. I was often told I had "no common sense". I was censored when I used big words that she did not understand. I was told not to use them. I was told I was not part of the family because she knew it would hurt my feelings.

I realized that people often based their opinion of me on my situation or by what was told to them. The lesson I learned is some people use weaknesses in others to build themselves up or for control purposes. Especially when they know you need them or they think you don't have the sense to defend yourself.

I now have a total understanding of the phrase, "To be kicked while you are down" but at the same time, all of these things was a lesson to me. I allowed these things to happen and I do take responsibility for that.

I was completely dependent on others because I had no transportation. There were also other reasons for my codependent behavior. I loved Linda and I was looking for someone to love me back, as if I needed validation that I could be loved. I was often threatened with the loss of that love and that thought alone was debilitating.

Often I felt trapped by my needs and I craved more independence because that was what I was used to but, I needed someone to really care about me if only for one moment. I think at the time I craved "care" more than anything. I will never say that you do not need others because you do. I will say that if someone is willing to help you, make sure it is for the right reasons.

I knew I loved Lamar, but I would often ask myself if I was "in love" with him? Again I went to Linda, she told me, pretty much, the same thing she had told me before. She told me how I felt. I began to realize that no matter how sorry her son was, and he was sorry, she would always defend him. Meanwhile, no one had my best interest at heart. Not even me.

I looked very carefully at my situation. I pondered it and I read Gods word. I asked Lamar to leave. He told me he had no place to go. He would always play that sympathy role with me. He told me whatever it took to keep me taking care of his lazy ass.

Again, I looked at my situation. I paid all the bills. I bought all the food. I cleaned the house. I cooked, washed the dishes and did the laundry. How am I benefiting from this situation? He did nothing and I did everything. I kept asking him where was this relationship going? He would never answer me.

I asked him to help buy groceries and he refused. He got Snap and sold them. He ate my food like he bought it. When he got a little change in his pocket, he drank and smoked it. He did not offer to help pay on a bill. I tried to set rules that he must help buy food and help pay bills, he never did. I was so unhappy. I would get depressed, drink, and read my Bible.

All Lamar did was eat, sleep, play his game, drink, smoke weed, and screw. I enabled him do this to me because I no longer had a mind of my own. This is the man I loved for, at the time, 19 years.

In May of 2011 Lamar went to Indiana, his previous home. Before that, I began to get on his case about finding a job. He said he would, just to get me off his case.

While in Indiana, he was supposedly robbed. They took his identification and Social Security card. When he returned home he was upset. He said that he was going to get a job, but he did not have any identification. I asked him did he report the robbery? He said "No".

In June of 2011, he went back to Indiana. I did not want him to come back but I never said anything. That was another stupid mistake on my part. By this time, I was disgusted. I stayed in my Bible looking for answers. The drinking began to subside. I began to answer those questions I had asked myself before.

I also began to give myself pep talks every night. I would tell myself, "All you have to do is get through tonight with no drinking". I prayed in my mind and sang gospel songs until I fell asleep. I did this night after night. You know what? I had finally found the elusive worm in the bottom of that so called "never ending bottle". I was no longer thirsty, but I was hungry for a change.

The Ricks family had planned a trip to Disney and I had scrimped and saved what I did not drink. But by the beginning of August, I was not excited at all. I did not want to go, but there was no refund.

Then on top of my unhappiness, I was sick as a dog. I had a fever, I kept throwing up and I kept having these spells where I just wanted to bang my head against the wall. The latter was overwhelming and all I could do to be still was to hold on to something solid and shake. I asked Linda could she take me to the emergency room, because I had a fever and I kept vomiting. She did not take me.

One day, she came to pick Lamar and I up to take us over her house. We went to the gas station and when she pulled up to the light, I was reaching for the door handle. She began to pull off and all I could think to do was stick my head out of the window. I threw up all along the side of her car. I did not know what was wrong with me.

That evening, after throwing up again and Lamar washing her car, she asked if I would like to go to the emergency room. I told her "yes".

When she took me to the hospital, she and Lamar left. I was asked a bunch of questions. I knew it was a long shot, but I asked for a pregnancy test. Boy was it positive, seven weeks positive.

I did not know how to feel. The nurse asked me was that good news or bad news? She could not read the expression on my face. On the inside though, I was in shock. I did not believe the nurse until I saw the ultrasound and heard my baby's heartbeat. In my mind, total confusion set in.

I knew I wanted a child more than anything. I would stand under the trees across from my apartment and talk to God about it. I always thought there were women out there that did not deserve children because of the way they treated them or their irresponsibility.

I would ask God, "Would I ever have a child of my own"? At the time, I just knew I would never have a child because of my sickness when I was young. My fallopian tubes were all scarred and damaged. On top of that, I had fibroids. I was told I was sterile.

I talked to God all the time and this was just hope of hope. It was something I could talk to no one else about. I admired women that were pregnant. I always thought they were beautiful. I always wondered, would I ever be beautiful in that way? I would often feel bad when Linda talked about having a granddaughter because I could not have kids.

Auntie Brenda would make me feel bad sometimes to. I hated to think about it and she would always ask me, "When are you going to have some kids"? It would hurt to have to think about it.

My Auntie Brenda and I were talking and I told her people were always taking care of her. I asked, "Who is going to take care of me when I can't take of myself"? She told me not to worry, because someone would be there for me like I am always there for others. This was my way of seeing if she thought I would ever have kids. I was searching her for more insight, but I was looking in the wrong place.

When I told my family they were elated. They could not believe I was pregnant. They thought the same thing. I could not have children. I do not think it hit home until they saw the ultrasound with my name on it.

My family was in Chicago and I was down here. I felt lonely, afraid and overwhelmed. I did not know how I was going to take care of Lamar, my child and I. There were so many things a baby needed. I felt I had no support.

When I got home from the hospital that night, I told Lamar. He seemed happy enough, but nothing changed. He did absolutely nothing. I would ask him about his ID and he would tell me not to worry about it. He would have a job before the baby was born.

While I held on to that hope, he continued to sit on the couch, eat, sleep, smoke, play his game and screw. Having sex with him became a chore. I made up excuses to get out of doing it.

Again, I did everything. I was under so much pressure I decided to go back to Chicago. I was often depressed and I cried a lot. Everyone's favorite line was, "It's just the hormones talking". They never knew the personal hell I was in. This line was often based on other peoples wants.

Linda talked to me. She told me if I went back to Chicago not to ever call her again. She would never see me again. I said okay. I needed support and I felt I was not going to get any in Georgia.

She spoke with me a second time. This time she told me how she really felt. She told me, "I really do not want you to take my grandbaby to Chicago. I want you to stay too". I felt like an afterthought, but I also knew how difficult that was for her. I said I would stay. She pulled her family together and they bought my daughter most of what she needed.

Lamar went to the doctor with me once and even then he tried to leave before I saw the doctor. I would hurt when I saw the other women in the doctors' office all cuddled up with the fathers of their babies. Reality was hitting me at every direction.

When I went to find out the sex of the baby, I asked his mother to come with us. I wanted them both there. He did not come. Linda found out it was a girl and became so excited she was knocking stuff over in the ultrasound suite. I told her not to tell Lamar the sex of the baby, because he should have come with us.

When he asked, we told him they could not tell because he/she would not open their legs. She always kept her legs Indian style so it took a long time to find out the sex.

I wish I could have been excited and happy about my pregnancy. I was under so much stress. I continued to smoke cigarettes because that was something I enjoyed. I enjoyed feeling my baby move. That was the only enjoyment I really had. Everything else was hell.

It was a high-risk pregnancy. I was diabetic. I had high blood pressure and fibroids. I was often on bed rest, but it did not matter because Lamar would do nothing for me. So I had to get up to get everything I needed. I fell at least 3 times when I was pregnant. That little girl was determined to be here.

All the while, Lamar still sat on his ass. He didn't even try to get an ID or find a job for that matter. I was eight months pregnant on my knees scrubbing the tub. I had already fallen three times by then.

Once, I fell into the tub. He came into the bathroom, saw me in the tub, asked was I all right and turned around and left. He didn't even help me out of the tub.

Linda continued to defend him and like a dummy I listened. She kept saying, "You are going to need help after the baby is born. What if you need a C-Section? Who is going to help you"?

By my sixth month, I was going to the doctor twice a week. I was also taking insulin four times a day. The baby was too small or not gaining enough weight. I was worried about her all the time. She did not move often, so I was forever getting an ultrasound.

Lamar did some work with one of his friends, Cris. He was paid over $200. He gave me $10 and smoked and drank the rest. He got that money on a Thursday. It was gone by Sunday, because he was asking me for money to get him some cigarettes.

In January of 2012, I asked Lamar to leave, yet again. He began to help out around the house after that. He began buying groceries because my Snap was cut to $40 and he would not have any food.

I was not going to change my mind this time, because he did this before. He would help until I said he could stay. Then he was back to the same old Lamar, sitting on his ass and what not.

Around February 3rd he said he wanted to speak to me. Of course he was high. He once told me he could not handle business unless he was high. Okay, lets talk. He promised me he would go to Indiana, get his ID and when he got back he would look for a job.

I had tried to help him get his ID before. I even offered to pay for it. I reluctantly said okay. But I also told him that if he did not keep his promise to me, the next time I asked him to leave, there would be no discussion. He said okay. Again, back to the same old Lamar.

When he got back from Indiana, he did not do what he said he was going to do. He lied to me and said he had to get his transcripts from school. Now, I had been in school for ten years after I graduated from high school. I knew that if you did not complete a course, there were no transcripts. He doesn't have a high school diploma or G.E.D. So I rode him about it and he never told me the truth. I let it go because you reap what you sow.

I was not the only one talking to this man-child. His mother and brother were on him as well, while telling me to keep trying. He was not hearing us. He was comfortable with his position. He never thought I would do what I did. He thought he had me wrapped around his finger. He just did not know, that Bible will sneak up in you if you stay in it.

In March of 2012, my Auntie Linda came all the way from Chicago to see the baby born. She was in Georgia for ten days. Lamar was high all day, everyday. I was tired of him and exhausted from the baby. She took very good care of me.

It felt good to be pampered because I was often on bed rest. I was living in a town house apartment at the time and I was not supposed to keep traveling the steps. I had no choice because I needed things from downstairs (including food) and I had no one to help me. All while she was in Georgia, Auntie Linda went to every appointment with me.

On Saturday, March 31, 2012, I went to the hospital because I was bleeding. They said I had just passed my mucus plug. I was told I was fine and I was sent home. I had mild labor pains that whole weekend.

That Sunday, April 1st, I had slimy discharge in my underwear. I did not know what it was, but I did not think it was cause for alarm. I did not know anything about labor. I thought when your water broke, it gushed out or something.

Anyway, I had a doctors appointment on April 3, 2012 at 10a.m.They were to induce labor that night at 7p.m. If I had not gone to the doctor that morning, I do not think my baby would have made it.

That slimy discharge was my water. It leaked out slowly the whole weekend. By the time I got to my doctors appointment I was completely dry and the baby was in distress.

At 11:10a.m, Mamacita was here. I had an emergency C-Section. She was 5 pounds 10 ounces. As it turns out, Mamacita had swallowed merconium. God wanted her here. I do not remember much after that, because I was high. Lamar said I was asking for my baby very loudly. I do not remember that either. Auntie Linda did get to see the baby before she left for the airport that day.

I had to stay in bed for 24 hours, because my blood pressure shot up during the C-Section and they had a hard time bringing it back down. Oh, I got up though. I went looking for my baby and was politely led back to my bed.

She is named after Lamar's mother and she has my mother's middle name. I am totally fine with that because I still love them both very much. Now I hold a piece of them in my arms everyday.

Mamacita had a hard time breathing because of the merconium, but when I held her for the first time, I had no fear. I was not worried about her. I knew she would be okay. Her "Father" said so.

She went through a lot to be here and I knew in my heart that God would not give me my baby girl just to take her back. If He had, I do not know if I could have survived the heartbreak. But she was able to go with us the night I was discharged.

I stayed with Linda for five days. Despite the pain, I had to get up. I could not linger in the bed. I knew I would eventually go home and I could not count on Lamar to take care of things.

Mamacita was restless the first night, but I finally got the hang of things. Lamar stayed at home most of the time, even when I was in the hospital. He kept saying he was tired and needed some weed. I didn't trip though. I knew I had already had enough of him.

When I got home, just as I thought, I had work to do. The apartment was filthy. The tub was practically black. Lamar was out in the streets smoking and drinking, because when he would come home he was high. It got to the point where I didn't even want him to touch me.

I cleaned the house, because it was adding to my depression. When I had to bend over on my knees and wash out that tub a week after having a c-section, I knew it was over. The worst part about it is, he knew I was about to wash out the tub and he said, "okay". Like it was no big deal.

I was in constant pain from the surgery. I prayed and I cried a lot. I could not enjoy my daughter, because I was so depressed. I just cried and held her.

I finally spoke with him and I told him he had to go. He did not understand and thought I would change my mind, but I did not. I told him I was not happy. He asked me to marry him. I told him no. I did not want to be obligated to take care of him for the rest of his or my life. I knew if I was not happy now, marriage was not going to make it any better. Marriage is sacred to me. Before I even think to utter those vows, the man I marry will have to deserve me, because I am a good woman.

I asked him to leave again, because I did not think he took me serious. He became very upset. He told me the only way he was going to leave is if I showed him something official.

SO, I filed with the Magistrate Court to have him evicted from my apartment. Of course he played the dumb role for a while. He acted as if he did not know what he had done wrong or why I was doing this.

I told him what I did. I guess he was still disillusioned. When the sheriff served him with papers to vacate, he finally got the message. That $110, I could have spent on our daughter, but that is quite all right. I considered it an investment. If happiness cost $110 I would gladly pay. He moved out May 11, 2012.

When Lamar left, I thought back over the 20 years I've known him and realized he had never done anything for me. He had never bought me a card, flower, or even rubbed my back.

He has never given me a massage or anything. There was no intimacy on his part. I, on the other hand, would give him full body massages with baby oil and provide whatever he asked me for. When he called, I was always there. When he wanted to talk, I listened even when I did not want to. He never wanted to just hold me. It was all about sex. I need more than that.

I need a man that will treat me like a Queen just like I will treat him like a King. Someone I can build a life with and I will not settle for less. I refuse to carry any more relationships alone. I would rather be alone and content, than in a relationship and miserable. There should be three souls in a relationship, not one.

Now I could finally smile, laugh and play with my daughter. She is a very happy baby and I am happy. She's always smiling and trying to talk already. She started that at two months. That smile though, it lifts me to a higher plateau every time I see it. Even when I'm down, she smiles at me and I feel no sadness.

Lamar, of course, is not happy. He still tries to talk his way back in, but I do not trust anything he says. He is screaming for attention and I do not have time. I am focused on Mamacita.

I trusted him with our daughter a few times, now I no longer trust him and will not allow him to take her with him. He has exhibited poor judgment on three different occasions. I will not be on the news having a fit, because he has done something to my baby girl by accident.

I kept telling him, "When you say 'oops' it's usually too late. You have done something you cannot correct". I will protect my daughter and no man comes before her. That is a promise I will keep to her until I am in the ground.

Of all the people in Lamar's life, I am probably the only one that still thinks that he can do anything he sets his mind to. I will always have hope for him, but the trust is completely gone. I will continue to pray for him. Hopefully, he will find happiness and the sponsor he is looking for. I have moved on.

I do not know if Lamar will ever change. All I know is that I have. I do not do drugs or drink. I even quit smoking cigarettes, something I never thought I would do because it kept me calm. I don't even have Tylenol in my home.

I feel a natural high just being with my daughter. There was a void in my life when my father died and I tried to fill that void by drinking. I also had a hard time sleeping and the liquor quieted the constant thoughts, feelings and noise. Drinking erased the misery and deadened my emotions so I could function.

When I arrived in Georgia, I was waiting to die. I had nothing to look forward to and nothing to live for. I wasted eleven years trying to find happiness in those bottles. The only two things that grabbed my attention were Gods word and a woman strong enough to stand up and say enough is enough (Linda).

Being consistent with reading Gods word allowed me to really think about what was wrong with my life and me. I knew I had to change me. I wanted, desperately, to make God proud of me. I also wanted to build a relationship with God. I could not have an honest relationship with Him living the way I was living. I had to reflect on what I thought life was about.

I believe life is about lessons, knowledge, and change. If you never learn from your mistakes or past, you will not obtain enough knowledge to change. No one was messing up my life but me. I became stronger and learned how to first love me. Now I love others just as much, if not more.

I have also learned that one of the most important freedoms God has given us is the freedom of choice. Life is based on a series of choices. One choice can have a negative or positive effect on your life, for the rest of your life. Choices are the most powerful freedoms we have. I now know, from experience, to never make any choices without the direction/presence of God.

When you bring God into your life and give Him your heart, it is like taking blinders off. You see your sins up close and in color. You change your way of thinking and pause before you sin. You think of sin differently, because of the love you have for your King. All the bad habits, vocabulary, thoughts... That all changes because now you are COMMITTED to being more like Christ. I hope you see me shining, because I am blessed beyond recognition.

I must be happy so that my daughter is happy. Every breath I take is love for my King and daughter. My faith in God will never waver again, because my daughter exists and she exists when my body said no.

There are no words, in the many human languages that can describe how Awesome God is, so I will not try. I will let my story tell you. This is my Testimony.

Now I ask God to lead me. He knows what I need and right now, I am on Gods time. He will guide me if it is His will to do so. I do not even know what to do with what I am writing. I guess God will tell me in do time. I do have dreams, but if Gods blessing is not on anything that I want, I do not want it because it will turn to dust.

I need for Him to walk in front of me, guide me. I am not going to have it any other way. He has always been there, not really letting me completely fall, but teaching me to look to Him in all my struggles. Now, my eyes are on Him and my faith has never been stronger.

The Bible is perfect. The concept of perfection evades most people's intellect. Maybe it is because we cannot see past our own imperfections. Faith enables us to believe the Word of God. The truth of life is embedded in the pages of this fascinating book. Pick it up, I am begging you and believe. That is why I am still here. God don snuck all up in me and through my life lessons this is my encouragement to you...

Turn Around

"I consider my life worth nothing to me, If only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me- the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace." By: Apostle Paul

(Acts 20:24 NIV)

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I have included excerpts from my personal diary. It is unedited, so the language may be a bit unsettling. These are my thoughts and emotions at the time of journal entry.

### "Whispers"

July 15, 2002

Dear Diary,

Sometimes life can be like living in a movie. Everything seems surreal. I have been looking for the right man to come into my life. I think I finally found him. At least I hope I have found the right one. I am falling in love with him. He is the perfect man for me. He's smart and loving. He knows what he wants and he is not afraid to go out and get it.

Psychologically, I am doing fine. I have been taking my medicine on a regular basis. Work is not going well. I can't be absent anymore, at least until January.

July 23, 2002

Dear Diary,

I haven't been to work in five days. I actually miss it. Everything is o.k. My car (Grasshopper) isn't doing to well. We can't figure out what is wrong with it. I just pray it holds up until I can get it fixed. I have to be able to get to work.

Jeff is o.k. I love him so much. I am blessed, in more ways than one. I am glad I met him. The only thing that bothers me about Jeff is his reactions are so abrupt.

On the wrong day, it can cost us the relationship. I hold my tongue though. This is because I want this relationship to last. He does a lot for me and I have never had that before. I am so use to doing things myself. I have always been so independent.

I went up to the school today. Moraine Valley is a big college. Basically, I just went up there to see about my transcripts and application. I can't wait til school starts. I can't wait til I find out what classes I have to take. That will let me know how long I have to go til I get a degree. Anyway, til next time. More gossip.

July 31, 2002

Dear Diary,

Lately, I have had a lot on my mind. Things with Jeff, in my mind, are not fairing so well. It seems to me that he is using me.

I have been broke for the last month because of him. He stole my money. It was over $150. He tells me he is going to pay me back, but never do. I am almost out of food, so is my cats. He says he is going to fix my car, but it is only getting worst. I cannot count on him to do what he says he is going to do. We will be discussing this further.

I am so worried about going back to school. In a way, I can't wait. But then, I worry that I might not do so well. I told my father I would go back to school. ((((I)))) want to go back to school. Psychology is my major and it is also one of my classes. I just hope and pray I do well.

August 8, 2002

Dear Diary,

Things have been going o.k. I have one more week until school starts. I can't wait. I am just waiting for confirmation to go buy my books.

I don't know what's going on with Jeff and me. All I can do is sit and wait. I love him, but I don't need the drama. I got enough on my plate.

Queenie and Princess are doing fine. One of them got sick the other day. I don't know which one though. If im not cleaning up shit, im cleaning up vomit. Oh well, its like having children. I love them though. I wouldn't have it any other way.

August 16, 2002

Dear Diary,

Well, I finally broke up with Jeff. I couldn't take the arguing. I don't need the drama. Besides, he spent too much time over here. I need time to myself sometimes. With school starting next week, I am going to need some time to myself. I wish I had a drink. I have no money to buy me any school supplies. All I have is a pen. That's sad isn't it? Well, at least I have gas to get back and forward.

August 21, 2002

Dear Diary,

School started Monday and I have yet to put in an appearance. It turns out that Sunday night, when Jeff left here, he slashed my tires. I can't get them fixed until tomorrow when I get paid. I pray that this is over because I can't afford to keep doing this. In a way, I'm glad I found out what type of person he is. He is so petty. I ain't even mad. I can't wait to go to school. I will let God deal with him. He will get his. I pray things work out. That's all I can do.

August 22, 2002

Dear Diary,

Boyyyyy, there is a lot on my mind tonight. I got my car fixed. I pray to God that it is movable in the morning. I hope Jeff just leave me alone. I need to take care of business. I am eager to begin school.

Tomorrow is my big day! I pray, Lord do I pray, that they haven't dropped me from my classes. Things haven't been going to well. I just want, need, things to go right. I still haven't received the go ahead to buy my books.

Lord, I am on my knees right now, but I need to ask you to please bless me? I know I don't deserve it, but I need it more today than I did yesterday. I love you and I know I've done wrong, I don't mean to, but I do. Please, please help me. Please!

August 29, 2002

Dear Diary,

I would first like to say that God did bless me. I was not dropped from my classes. Thank You God!

It is very important to me that I finish school. I promised my father I would. Daddy I love you and miss you so much.

I haven't been okay lately. I just really feel down. I have been getting misty eyed. Today, I finally broke down and cried. I am pretty sure there will be another episode.

I have been so busy with school and work. I haven't been taking care of myself. Tuesday, after school, I am going to this clinic in Blue Island. I am going to start taking my medicine again.

The only thing that cheered me up tonight is singing along Celine Dion. She brought out the best in my voice. I love to sing. The only true love I have is music.

Music doesn't hurt or leave you, especially if it is in the heart. It brings out the best in me mentally and emotionally. That I cannot deny. I can't have children. I may never find the right companion. Music is my companion. I love it with all my heart.

September 22, 2002

Dear Diary,

Things haven't been going too well lately. I have so many emotions twirling around inside me. I feel like no one loves me. I miss my father, both of them really.

It hit hard today, that the only person that truly loved me is never coming back to me. The one person that truly loved me is gone. The only person on this earth anyway.

I don't even love myself. I was really trying to change for the better, trying to feel normal. Someone stole my books at school. I am really wondering can I do this? Can I keep my promise to my father?

Half the time I wish I was with him. To be honest I wish I was dead. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I do. I just feel that everything is working against me. I try to be strong, but I am beginning to weaken.

What am I supposed to do about school and work? I want to do it, but things always get all messed up. I know it's me doing it. I just know what I can do to make things better. I feel that my life should be over. How much more suffering can I endure? I don't know. I am not happy. I don't know if I ever will be. My life has been hell since the day I was born.

I know before it's all said and done things can only get worse. Music doesn't even make me happy anymore. I try to sing, but it's not in me. I listen to Alicia Keys and Mary J. Blige and it seems as if they speaking directly to me. It seems as if everything I've been through they been through it too. I feel torture in my heart and I want to get rid of it. If it means I have to die than I will. What could be worse?

November 24, 2002

Dear Diary,

It has been a long time since I did this. A lot has happened. I am not doing well in school. I am trying to wait patiently to see what I have for grades. I had amper opportunity to do well in these classes. This is my fault. I no longer have a job. I was fired because I was late too many times. I was also told I was intimidating. I am relying solely on my Social Security. We will see how well things go.

March 22, 2003

Dear Diary,

I have moved, yet again. But this time I am going to stay put for a while. I have been here for about two weeks and I am loving it. I feel more secure knowing that I am within stones throw of my family, with whom I plan to spend more time with. I have kept in touch with them and I think they like the fact that I am closer. I know I do.

I spend more time with Neckbone and I am glad about that. Auntie Linda and I are still close. I think she is wonderful.

As for Jeff and I, it is finally over and I am at peace. Although there is someone new I haven't even seen yet. I hope we meet soon. He seems okay. I don't think we have much in common though. I guess we will have to wait and see what happens.

As for me, Jeff is gone and he doesn't know where I live or anything. So, I can relax a little and not worry about my car getting vandalized every other day. I tell you that's a relief. I don't even know how many times he slashed my tires. Hell, I stopped counting.

Grasshopper needs to go to the shop next month. It seems that car spends more time in the shop than I do driving it. I will never buy a F.O.R.D (forever on recall dude). All the money I spent on this car, I could have bought a new one. But I really want to keep it because it was Pop's car. It reminds me of him and it's all I got of his.

I will probably never get rid of it. If something more serious happens to it, I will just have to put it somewhere until I can get it fixed. Well Whispers, that's it for now. I am going to try out the internet and see if it works.

April 4, 2003

Dear Diary,

Hi, I have been meaning to write to let you know what's going on. I just got out of the hospital a couple days ago. I was in because I thought I had a blood clot. Thank God I didn't. Boy was I scared. I was okay when I woke up that morning.

It happened March 28th. I knew there was pain and swelling there, so I went to Trinity Hospital. The doctor didn't do anything. He looked at my foot, touched it and said it was swollen, that's it. I could have told his dumb ass that!

He wrote out a prescription and sent me on my way. How you gon give me an rub on ointment for an obvious internal infection of some sort? Kellogg's need to stop handing out degree's. They gon get sued!

Anyway, after seeing Doctor Dunce Cap, I went to Providence because I knew something was wrong with my leg. I got to the emergency room at about 1:15p.m. By the time I got to see the doctor I was in sooo much pain I could barely walk or sit still.

I finally got to see a doctor at about 8:00p.m. I cried the whole time I was there. They kept me a couple of days. I got out Tuesday, April 2nd.

They tried to give me an ultrasound the night I was admitted, but all I could do was scream in pain. I couldn't be still cause it hurt too much. I knew I had a huge vocal range but, Damn! I think the tech got mad.

Well anyway, it turns out I had cellulitis. I am still on antibiotics. I am so glad it's almost over. My leg is still swollen, but I think things should be okay.

Everything else is fine. I have been really busy. I got my check today. I had to get up earlier than I was ready because Auntie was ready to get everything done.

Boy, it has been a long day. I went shopping with them. I will never do that again. They took all day. I came home and washed my clothes. I also did some thorough cleaning, took a bath, ordered a pizza and had a few drinks with Auntie Linda.

Boy did she get drunk. Remind me to talk about her tomorrow. She had me rollin! It was so funny. I finally finished reading, Roots. I am so tired. I am going to get my blanket from downstairs and go to bed. So, peace Whispers.

April 9, 2003

Dear Diary,

Hi, just chillin trying to get this song. I have a lead part in a song called "Worship Medley". It is hard because I am losing my voice. I have to really strain to get the notes. On top of all that, I am scared outta my wits. I know I will have to sing it tonight at choir rehearsal. I am simply terrified. I am going to try and nail it though. If we do sing it Friday or Sunday, I hope my family will be there. At least I hope Neckbone is there, if anything, I will feel better. Pray for me?

Other than that things are getting better. I have been exceptionally happy since I moved. Church has been a regular thing for me.

My car broke down yesterday. Again, God works in mysterious ways. Richard, the guy that usually fixes my car, was where we had to push it. Now that was a blessing. He fixed it and we made it home okay.

I have to get a radiator though. The hose has completely broken off. He was able to stretch it and reconnect it, but it is still leaking antifreeze very badly. I am going to call to see how much one cost. Well, that's it for now. Gotta get my drink on. You know me! I will confer with you later. (wink, wink)

April 12, 2003

Dear Diary,

I told you I would write to let you know how the first night of the anniversary went. It was okay I guess. I really couldn't enjoy myself because I was nervous. I was struggling to sing because my voice was basically gone.

By the last song, I had nothing. I tried to hit the notes, but nothing came out. I told them I was loosing my voice. I told everyone I was not going to holler or sing until Sunday night. I am not even going to sing Sunday morning. I am trying not to talk too much. I will be taking double doses of lemon and tea with honey. Hopefully, by Sunday night, I will be able to sing.

Peaches was about to snap tonight. She had to leave the sanctuary. That fool Emmitt, stopped playing in the middle of a song.

First of all, he was playing too slow. Then he had the nerve to get mad because we asked him to pick up the tempo. I hope it all blows over. We'll see how things go and I will write to let you know how things go Sunday night. Something is about to blow up and I don't know what is going to happen.

April 15, 2003

Dear Diary,

Waz up? It's time for another update. Sunday was okay, to start. I didn't go to church that morning. I spent the day drinking lemon tea and honey. Of course it didn't help. I still had no voice that evening for the anniversary finale. It was so embarrassing.

We, the sopranos, sounded horrible. We were all horse. Except for Auntie Linda who almost never uses her real voice. She sings falsetto all the time. I tried that falsetto thing in high school and I couldn't do it. My voice kept breaking through and I got kicked out of the choir. I couldn't help it. I was use to using my real voice.

Peaches almost ruined the whole evening. She might as well had not come at all. The choir that was there was not only on time, they sounded better than us. I told you it was embarrassing.

We looked good in the dresses Auntie Carolyn made, but we didn't sound good. They didn't even bother to make Sanetha's dress. Boy was she pissed. I really don't blame her. They thought she wasn't going to sing, because she rarely came to choir rehearsal. Which is, in some way, her fault. She should have come to rehearsal.

Peaches looked like a damn fool in her dress. She was trying to look special and everything by having her dress look different. Auntie Carolyn didn't make her dress.

To make things worse, Emmitt fucked up again. We weren't finished singing for the night and he left. We had to sing acapella. There is talk about firing him. I will let you know the news on that.

Anyway, choir rehearsal is cancelled for Wednesday. This is very thoughtful considering everyone is hoarse. Well, that's pretty much the way it went. I will keep you informed on any new developments. Bye for now.

April 25, 2003

Dear Diary,

Hi! I told you I would write and let you know how things are going with the choir. Fine I guess. We still have an organist, which is cool for now. We will see how things will work out in the long run. Rehearsal was great this time. There were only like five people there. That's half the choir.

Things are going alright with me. I went to the doctor Wednesday. He said everything was okay. The reason why my leg keeps swelling at times is because my leg was weakened by the infection. He said it should be okay in about a month or two. I hope so.

He also made me an appointment to see a psychiatrist. It's cool, I need help figuring a lot of things out. I need a therapist. Someone I can talk to in confidence. Once I can get comfortable with someone, I am pretty sure I can open up and get a lot of things out in the open with someone else other than the recesses of my mind. My thoughts are driving me crazy! I can't sleep a lot of times.

I asked Auntie Linda some questions about my past and how she felt about me. I believe she answered truthfully. That relieved a minute amount of worry. I guess I can live with her answers. Her answers were, pretty much the same as my thoughts. Again, we will see how things go.

Aw yeah, Auntie Linda let me use her name so I can get cable. Cool huh? That was real sweet. I can't wait to get it. They will hook it up on the 3rd of next month. Boy do I miss the Discovery channel. I can't wait!

April 26, 2003

Dear Diary,

Waz up? I'm about to get my drink on and go to bed. I am really tired. I was at Auntie Brenda house half of the day. I enjoyed myself. We watched the series finale of "Touch By An Angel". Only the first part though. The second part comes on tomorrow. I will be watching it.

I was writing to let you know about my crush on our drummer at church. I don't think he likes me in that way though. I am backing off. The only problem I have with him is he can be aggravating. You just want to tell him to shut up sometimes. Other than that, I think he's pretty cool.

I think he likes Shannon though. He seems to be attracted to her. Hey no problem if he is. If she likes him, I wish she would say something. With this guy, who can tell? He sends off so many mixed signals, if he were a lighthouse, even the pigeons wouldn't know where to shit. Goodnight!

### "Whispers II"

April 30, 2003

Dear Diary,

I am writing to let you know that I found the school that I am going to attend. I will be attending Malcolm X College in the fall. I won't be able to apply to the Surgical Technology Program.

First of all, it's too late. Secondly, there are two more classes I need to take. It's cool though. It's not like I have a full load to accomplish. I have just a couple more classes and I am good to go.

Auntie apologized for practically calling me a liar. I am still kind of upset. I don't lie or steal, so I was severely insulted. I don't play that game at all. I love her to death, but when she gets upset she really needs to find a better way to express herself. REALLY!

Now, for the program, I have to have two letters of recommendation to get in. I can only think of two: Frank and Debbie. The only other person I can think of is Sandy. Man do I miss her. I can't find her though. I lost touch. Well, I will have to wait and see what happens.

I have to put my faith in God. I am still scared though. I am still wondering if I can do this. The course of my financial life is riding on this. Well, to tell you the truth this is something I am really in to. I can't mess up. Since I can't be a surgeon this is the next best thing. But, just because you want something does not mean you are going to get it or it's meant for you.

All I can do is pray about it: Lord, I ask you this day, please give me the strength to get through what I need to so I can succeed in my studies? I ask this in your Son Jesus name, Amen.

I spoke to the psychiatrist today. I have to call to make an appointment to see a psychologist for therapy. I will get back to you on what happens. I am on a whole mess of new medications. I really don't want to start on them again, but I have to. With that and therapy I will be okay.

May 5, 2003

Dear Diary,

I can't sleep again. Of course I know why. Things and ideas are floating through my head again. I hate when I can't turn my thoughts off. I wish I had a drink.

I was thinking about school and how bad I want to finish. I know this is what I want, but I am so afraid of failing. I'm afraid of seeing myself fail and letting my dad down.

I know I should put it in Gods hands and trust Him. I know He will catch me if I fall, but I can't help to think that this is not what God wants me to do with my life. I will do what He wants. Of course, what I want and what God wants probably isn't the same thing. I know I am a worry- wart and yes, I can be honest about that. He knows I am.

I am still lost on what to do about my mother. I really want her in my life full-time. I am seeking every ones advice about the situation and I will take it all into consideration. I just need more cooperation on her part. I don't understand why we cannot seem have a normal mother- daughter relationship. I mean DAMN! I am so tired of trying to be in her life and getting rejected.

I know I need professional help and I am working on it. I need clarification on is it me or is it her. I need more help paying for these medications. I will call for counseling as soon as I can get my car fixed. I just hope I can get my sticker tomorrow because I still owe on a ticket. Again, we'll have to wait and see.

May 5, 2003

Dear Diary,

After my last entry in my diary this morning, I've decided to compile some of my history. My plans for this project is to, hopefully, get some issues out in the open. At the very least, try to clear my head. I want to sleep so badly. Writing out some of the things from my childhood might help. It didn't help last night, but maybe in the long run it will just a little.

I still didn't fall asleep until 6 or 7a.m. Something keeps waking me up. It startles me out of my sleep. I keep hearing my name in my ear. Weird huh? I do know it's a man's voice. I don't know who it is of course. It happens from time to time. This isn't the first time.

A couple of times I have awakened from nightmares, but I can't remember what they are about. Sometimes, after these dreams, I am afraid to go back to sleep, but why? I even wake up with tears in my eyes. I will figure it out one day. One day soon I hope.

Anyway, I have decided to go to the emergency room in the morning. My back is getting worse. You know how I hate going to the hospital, me as a patient anyway. I don't want to give anybody any excuse to keep me.

I took 3000mgs of Tylenol last night and it was like eating candy. It didn't help at all. I have been doing that for too long and I do not want to throw my liver out of whack. That last time, my liver began to hurt, it scared the shit outta me. It wasn't Tylenol that time though. It was Depakote and alcohol.

I will keep you posted. I figure while I am at the hospital tomorrow I will fill my prescriptions. I will probably have to take the bus home though if Shannon isn't at home. It sucks not being able to drive Grasshopper. I hope I can get it fixed soon. I'm working on that. Talk to you soon.

May 8, 2003

Dear Diary,

Today was not a good day. I have been in my own world, kind of. My thoughts, pretty much, has taken over my whole day. I have been very moody lately. I have been trying to keep to myself. I really don't want to upset anyone.

Tonight, while at choir rehearsal, I really felt bad. I had to leave in the middle to go for a walk. Singing doesn't do much for me anymore. I use to perk up when I sang. Lately, I haven't felt much like singing or listening to music.

I still read in the bathroom, but that's about it. I really am swinging from one mood to the other. I told the organist and my Aunt I need to give the choir a rest for a while.

I am really emotional right now. I have been fighting the urge to cry. I don't want to feel sorry for myself. I will allow myself to get foggy eyed, but that's about it. Tonight was bad though. I was suicidal. I kept my promise to God though.

I watched "Queens of Comedy", that cheered me up a little. I still can't sleep. When I close my eyes, it's like a movie reel behind my eyelids. Thoughts swim inside my head like it's an ocean. I am constantly thinking.

I just want to die sometimes. Just end it all so my brain will stop functioning. I have been numb for so long, not feeling things that happened, ignoring the hurt. I should have known it would, someday, come back and bite me in the ass.

May 18, 2003

Dear Diary,

Waz up? I'm doing nothing here, just chillin and waiting for my dinner to get finished. I went to church this morning. It was okay I guess. Bruce preached again. I think he should be a motivational speaker or something. He is a bit unorthodox in his preaching's.

I still haven't rejoined the choir. They do need help though. They sound terrible. The sopranos were practically non-existent, the altos were flat and the tenors sounded confused.

I have been sleeping though. I am tired during the day, but I don't go to sleep. I want to be able to sleep at night.

May 19, 2003

Dear Diary,

I am up and hating it. I can't stop crying. All this time I have tried not to cry. I can't help it, but I miss him so much. With all I went through in my life, I never thought that Pop's would leave me.

I feel like all the time we didn't spend together was my fault. I was so, and still is, emotionally fucked up. I loved my father more than anyone in this world. I just don't know why God took him from me. Did I do something wrong? How come he just couldn't stop drinking? Why would God take him? I will never forget his face. When I woke up he was gone. I shouldn't have listened to that nurse. Maybe he would of hung on for one more day, hour, something. I shouldn't have told him it was okay. I didn't want him to go. I just can't do this.

May 26, 2003

Dear Diary,

I am not in a bad mood, but I am not in a good mood either. I am sorta indifferent. Kind of tolerable to an extent. I just came back from a play with Neckbone. It was really good. It was called "Heavens Gate, Hell's Fury". I saw it last year. It was still good, if not better.

Again, it had me thinking. I am still confused about a lot of things. It seems no one can really answer my questions about God and/or Jesus. I don't even know if I am saved or what being saved really means.

I consciously believe Jesus died for my sins and God raised His Son from the dead. I just don't know if He is really there. You know, omnipresent.

When something goes wrong, to tell you the truth, I don't even worry. I really don't. I know God will see me through, be it good or bad. My problem is how bad is it going to get this time? How much mental suffering is involved? The unknown is what scares me. I believe God allows things to happen for a reason.

What really have me stressing is memories. They are with me everywhere I go. I can't seem to get them out of my head. When things go good, I do thank God. Sometimes, I almost believe, I deserve the good things.

I talk to God as if He were there, standing right in front of me. Is that wrong for me to do? Do He still hear my prayer if I don't get on my knees? When I go to church and don't shout for joy with everyone else is God disappointed? I cry in church sometimes, but I don't worship in that fashion. Do God know for sure if I love Him or not? I mean, people say I love you all the time, that doesn't mean they mean it. I guess I will get my answers in do time.

The play was really good though. They said over 800 people came last night. Tonight it looked like there were at least 225- 250. It was packed last year too. I just really enjoyed it.

May 31, 2003

Dear Diary,

I just got home. I went out tonight and enjoyed myself. I live a backwards life I guess. Now if I were at home, there would be no way I would've been sleepy. I was sleepy as hell!

I went to see the "Tony Smith Show". Diane performs in it. It was her birthday celebration. I really did enjoy myself despite being sleepy.

Uncle Curtis was there. This was only the second time I ever met him. He was my father's best friend. We danced together and I enjoyed spending time with him. He's getting married really soon. I wish my father was here. He would have been so happy for him. Player to player!

Anyway, I sang in public and I was so nervous. I stared at the mic. I refused to give anyone eye contact. They loved it though. I received several compliments. It felt really good.

I love Diane so much and I really enjoy spending time with her. Her life is music and in a way I wish mine were also. Well, if I weren't such a chicken. ;-)

June 1, 2003

Dear Diary,

I'm about to turn it in. I thought I would just duck in and say hi. I had a pretty good day today. I spent the day at the mall. We went to Old Country Buffet and then to Tilt. It was fun.

The only problem I had is there were too many kids with us. It basically drove me crazy. Especially since people don't know how to discipline their children correctly. I wanted to snatch one of them out they skin. Running around the mall like they didn't have no home training. It really pissed me off. Not to mention how embarrassing it was. I plan to go to church in the morning so I'm about to try to get some sleep. PEACE!

June 8, 2003

Dear Diary,

I just finished taking care of business. I cooked dinner. I managed to burn my beans beyond recognition. I fell asleep on the couch. The smell was horrible. I had to cook spinach in its place. I also threw a couple of potatoes in with the pot roast. Everything was really good.

I won't be able to eat again until Tuesday morning after 6a.m. I figured I'd fast for our revival at church. I have never fasted for religious purposes before. Usually when I don't eat, it's because there is no food or I am just not hungry.

There were times when I was little we didn't have any food. The only problem then is I would develop the shakes or trembles. I should have no problem with it.

I haven't decided if I am going to the church picnic. I have to bring something and I can't afford it. I was told to bring salad, but dressing can get expensive. I hope I can manage.

As for treating myself out for my birthday, I probably can't afford that either. I hate birthdays anyway. They always suck and I will probably cry the whole day. I tend to get that way on or around my birthday.

June 13, 2003

Dear Diary,

I'm about to get into the tub in a minute. I went up to the school yesterday. I took care of everything pertaining to my transcripts. I got held up at Morraine Valley because I still owed on a ticket. I didn't even remember the ticket, but I had to pay $23 in all. I hated to part with it. I refuse to wait until the last minute this year as far as enrollment. I hate going at the last minute because the lines are horrible, especially the financial aide line. The only line I plan on standing in is in the book- store. I have to save up for my books. I called Cedar Valley in Texas the other day and had those transcripts mailed out.

I am worried about my meds though. I have no money to get them. I am stumped. I don't know how I am going to do this. I am just thinking really hard on all this. All I can think of is checking out Blue Cross and see how much it would cost to buy insurance. It would probably be cheaper. That's all I can think of. Social Security sucks. I'm disabled, but they can't help me get my mentals.

I went to the hospital to see Debb yesterday. She was way out at Loyola. She is okay. I thank God for that. I love that woman. She really looked out back in the day. I don't want to loose her. That thought made me cry. She was burned pretty bad. I'm still wondering how she managed to set herself on fire. I cannot wrap my mind around that feeling and I pray I never have to.

I was worried she wasn't going to wake up. The risk was so high for that to happen, because of the brain surgery she endured some time ago.

I was so tired when I got home yesterday. I was out cold on the couch downstairs. Tori woke me up acting spoil as usual. I was pissed.

I didn't go to bed last night until 3:30a.m. I was stuck on a John Saul book. It was so good, I hated to put it down. He is my favorite writer. There was only one book I didn't like all that much. The rest of the ones I read were excellent.

I read last night for about three hours. I was exhausted and I felt terrible. I couldn't even eat my dinner. I just had a bag of chips. I don't know if I am going to church tonight, but I will see.

June 17, 2003

Dear Diary,

I just got home. I went to Devon's graduation this morning. I spent the day at Auntie Brenda's house. She made some bar-b-que. It's always nice spending time with her. We had some drinks. I only had two beers and one drink. I got tipsy so I took a nap.

I can't believe I got drunk so fast. Usually, it takes a lot more than that to get me that way. I was tired already though. I tried not to go to sleep. I wanted to make sure I went to bed tonight.

I had a bad night last night. I just got so paranoid. My body was tingling, almost like it was numb. I couldn't move. I know I wasn't out of it because I can remember my thoughts.

In my mind I began to pray. God was there, because in about thirty seconds I began to feel better. I turned my head and rolled over. I had slobbered all over my pillow. I guess during the episode, I forgot to swallow. I just hope I can get some rest tonight. I just feel worn out. I have to go to therapy tomorrow. I will let you know how things turn out.

June 18, 2003

Dear Diary,

I am about to play on the computer and have some drink. I am in the mood for some Solitaire and Galatians. I am also in the mood for some singing, so I will be putting on my headphones.

I got up at about 10:30a.m. I slept really well last night. I was surprised. I was supposed to go to therapy today, but it was cancelled.

Dr. Fuchion is sick. I was mad because they could have called me earlier. I was up and dressed when they called. I was on my way out of the door. I still see the psychiatrist, Dr. Daugherty, next week. I will talk to him about getting my meds. I can't afford to pay for them. Maybe things will be better next week.

June 21, 2003

Dear Diary,

I am in a bad mood right now. I hate this damn computer sometimes. It really be pissing me off. I'm calm now (a little). I had me a drink, because today I won't be able to. I have to go to church Sunday and I don't like drinking before then.

It is officially my birthday and I am having mixed feelings. It seems like the only person that was excited about my birthday is gone. I read his autopsy report again. I hate that he suffered like that. I miss him so much.

The anticipation of my birthday always turns into disappointment. I never get to do anything because I am always at a fucked up part of my life. It has been a long 27 years.

I have learned a lot though. I have learned that breathing is not the same as living. I have yet to live. Without faith life is meaningless. I have learned that without God in your life, your life is pointless. I have learned that people say, "I love you" all the time, but they don't mean it. I have learned that survival without God is just that, survival. Getting by isn't enough. I have also learned that sometimes you should accept people at face value or you will always be alone. Last, but not least, I have learned that making yourself happy is harder than it looks.

I just feel so alone. I have always felt that no one wants me or loves me, but my father. Now that he's gone, I feel empty. I know God is there always and I can always talk to Him. I know I will pray about it. God will see me through.

Through everything I have learned to be strong. Yes, I had to learn it. It does not come with birth. Strength is something you have to earn.

It's so easy to end it. That I have learned also. I still want to end it. I feel like that right now, but I promised I wouldn't. I always try to keep my promises. I will write again and let you know how my birthday went.

June 22, 2003

Dear Diary,

I got in from church about an hour ago. I am very tired. We did excellent. I didn't think we would pull off "Worship Medley", but we did.

Rev. Ellis is sick. He has a fever. I am waiting for Auntie to get off of the phone so I can call and check on him. I am worried. He is cool peep with me. He might have the flu.

My birthday was fun. I guess I expected to lie around the house and do nothing. We went to Joliet and hung out. Auntie Linda and Shannon bought me a cupcake and put a candle in it. That was so sweet. I got drunk with Auntie's Uncle or cousin or whoever he was. I fell asleep in the back of the van. When I woke up they took me to Steak N' Shake. The food is good, but it was a jip. Then I went over Auntie Brenda's house and she gave me a gold chain and some earrings. Great Day!

June 29, 2003

Dear Diary,

I just woke up and now I am cooking dinner. I have decided to bake chicken breast, string beans and macaroni.

Last night I had to take Princess to the hospital. I was so scared she was going to die or something. I couldn't afford it but I post- dated a check. That was money I didn't have, $130.

She was loosing weight too fast. She looks like a skeleton with skin. She had puss coming out of her eyes. When I called her to brush her, she kind of wobbled. Her hair was coming out by the handfuls. I knew I had not seen her in a while. I am glad I realized it before it was too late.

It turns out she had a viral infection and an upper respiratory infection. The doctor gave me antibiotics and an ointment for her eye. She will be alright. I was a praying sister though. I love my cats. I told one of my associates I will give a cat mouth to mouth if it came down to it.:)

July 2, 2003

Dear Diary,

I just got done eating dinner and doing the dishes. I went to therapy today and I was pissed to find out that after 2.5 hours of waiting the doctor came down sick. She didn't even see me.

I am going to have to look elsewhere for therapy. This place is crazy! I had 3 sessions with her and I have only seen her once. The states help suck! Hell, if I was trying to off myself I'd be hanging from the rafters by now with all their help!

The other fucked up part about it is it's first come first serve. How the fuck is that? I gotta call for an appointment, they tell me 2:00p and if I don't get there by 7:00a I probably won't see the doctor! Then why the hell did I make an appointment?

July 6, 2003

Dear Diary,

I spoke with my mother on the 4th and I was disappointed. She acted like nothing ever happened to me. She told me to move on with my life. I wish it was that easy, but it is not.

I love that woman, but it is obvious she doesn't love me. I cannot change the past but it would help us if she can just tell me that what Frank did was wrong. I just need to hear something of value from her. Maybe it's my fault. I don't know because if I did, I wouldn't be in this situation.

July 10, 2003

Dear Diary,

I am melancholy today. I just found out my financial aid was not approved. I am out of money. I am going to have to contact Social Services through Social Security. Maybe I can get some help there. Believe me, I am on my knees already.

July 15, 2003

Dear Diary,

I called the school again and I got the same reply. I do not qualify for financial aid. I am going, tomorrow, to Social Services to see if I can get some financial help with school.

All I can do now is pray and have hope. I just need 3 more classes to get into the program. I was going to take two. Hell, I can't even afford the program. Lord, please see me through this, I need You!

### "Whispers Trilogy"

July 16, 2003

Dear Diary,

Today I got my blessing! I went to DHS and they will pay for everything. They will even pay for transportation. There are a couple of things I need to do before I receive funding, but those things are sowed up. I can't wait until school begins.

Next month I have to set things up so I can get my car fixed. I have high hopes for the next month or so and I do not plan to see them dashed! I think things are finally going to go right.

July 19, 2003

Dear Diary,

I am about to chill. I was about to get the rest of my beer out of the fridge in a minute. I have to admit; I drink way too much. I need to give it a rest. It does help me sleep though. In fact that has been the only reason I have been sleeping. It keeps my brain from constantly running.

Now, Monday, I have to go pick up my meds at Providence. Wednesday, I have a therapy session. I also need to go up to the school to see if I can get a printout of everything. DHS needs to know how much everything will cost, books included. I have to have this information by the 28th. I just wanted to drop in and say hi. BYE!

July 22, 2003

Dear Diary,

I was just writing to let you know I was going to Bible study tonight. I feel myself slipping spiritually. I guess Reverend Ellis was right when he said, "When you don't go to church, you leave yourself open for the devil to get you". I've been drinking wayyyy too much. I know I need to dry out.

July 28, 2003

Dear Diary,

I gotta stop drinking. I drank way too much last night. Today was a long day. I got up and went to DHS this morning. I was so out of it. I had a hang over. I was falling asleep on Mrs. Ammons. She thought I was in a bad mood at first. I had to apologize to her and I told her I had a bad night. I had a hard time sleeping.

I can go register for my classes at any time now. I have the vouchers to pay for my classes. Thank You Jesus!

July 30, 2003

Dear Diary,

I'M PISSED! I went to therapy today and froze my ass off. I waited in that damn clinic for 2.5 hours. First of all, she was late. I was the first patient to be seen and she come in 40 minutes late and says she has an emergency with another patient. I was tired, hungry, cold as hell and sleepy. At 2, I was like fuck it! I bounced. I am so fucking fed up with this arrangement. I don't know what to do. I need someone to talk to. IM FUCKING FINAL!

August 5, 2003

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow I go to the school to register for my classes. I have no idea how to get there though. I have to call RTA to get directions. I hope I don't get lost.

August 6, 2003

Dear Diary,

I went to the school today. I didn't get lost. I paid for my classes. I couldn't get my books yet because I made a mistake. I should have gotten the price on everything. I failed to do so. I have to go get a new voucher so I can go get both books. I won't be able to get my supplies, but I will know better next time.

August 7, 2003

Dear Diary,

I went to DHS today. First of all, it was really embarrassing, because I had on all white and I bled through my clothes.

I took care of my business though. Mrs. Ammons did me a favor. I can now get my school supplies without going through all the crap of running back and forth. So everything worked out for the best.

I have a job down the street taking care of this lady. I just help her take a bath and make her bed. It will be good to earn twenty dollars per visit. That will only be once a week or every other week. It will come in handy when I am broke. Plus, it won't interfere with school.

August 18, 2003

Dear Diary,

Today I went up to the school and got my books. I got a book bag also. I have just finished going through everything. This is going to be an interesting ride.

I just finished looking at my Anatomy book. I got a lot of work to do. I will just rely on God for strength. I got everything, but pens. I forgot those. I pray I got a good teacher with this Anatomy. I am glad I am taking this class after an oasis. I am going to need everything I got to get through this. School begins September 2, 2003. I can't wait!

September 3, 2003

Dear Diary,

The last few days were really tiresome. I went to school yesterday and I was so tired by the time I got home. I had to take the bus. My bags were so heavy. I don't care if I ever see another step in my life. I was so exhausted my knees were shaking. There has to be a better way!

Today, I finally got my car fixed. NOW, the power steering fluid is leaking. That's a Ford for you. I still haven't gotten my sticker, but I am supposed to get that tomorrow. I just have to get back here before 10:30a. I am not going to school tomorrow, but I will next week and so on.

September 4, 2003

Dear Diary,

This morning I went to get my sticker. It cost $78. I went to get the car washed and went grocery shopping. I was still tired when I got home, so I went to bed. I got up, ate dinner and got my hair braided. I accidentally fell asleep on the couch. I bet I am going to be up all night.

September 6, 2003

Dear Diary,

It is 3:15a. I am just getting in the house. I had so much fun. We went to hear Diane toot her horn.

I had a long day. I washed and took Auntie Linda to the grocery store at the same time. I had to put Pookie in and out of the car. That girl is heavy. I also cleaned the apartment. Then I was out all night.

Aw yeah, I sang in public again. Scary! I swallowed my fear and just did it. Now Diane wants me to sing next time we come out to Chambers.

September 13, 2003

Dear Diary,

Some idiot don stole my license plate stickers. FUCK! I had to go to the police station to file a report. They said I can go get another one, but it won't cost $78.

We went out to Auntie Toya's house today. It was chill. I got drunk. I do have church in the morning so HOLLA!

September 17, 2003

Dear Diary,

Well, I have to sell my car. Grasshopper gotta go. The transmission is shot and it will cost about $2000 to get him fixed. I hate to do it. I really wanted to keep him because it was my daddy's car. I can't afford to keep doing this. I keep putting money into it. If it's not one thing it's another. I will never buy a Ford. This is fucking ridiculous!

September 21, 2003

Dear Diary,

My Grandmother had a mild stroke. I keep praying for her. I love her so much. She has a little left-sided weakness, but she will be okay. She is still in the hospital. I know she will be out soon. Grandma's a tough old bird.

October 3, 2003

Dear Diary,

Today was a busy day. I am really tired. Grandma is finally out of the hospital. She is doing fine. Auntie Donna moved in with her today. She is going to be her caregiver. It's great someone will be with her all the time.

As for Anatomy, I failed my first test. All I can do is try harder. I know I can do this. I am doing very well in my other classes (Medical Terminology). I will let you know my grade at the end of the semester. Other than that, things are going fine.

October 10, 2003

Dear Diary,

Queenie fell out of the second floor window today. That was a long drop. I knew something was wrong. When I fed the cats, she never showed up. That was unusual. I looked everywhere for her. I thought she had gotten between the floors again. I even called her name a couple of times.

I sat down and remembered I had left the window open in the back bedroom. When I saw the screen gone my heart dropped. I thought she was dead or just gone. I looked out of the window and she was underneath the window, balled up on the stairs. I called her name and she began to cry.

When I went outside to pick her up, she was rigid with fear. My baby good. I was surprised she didn't run off. I think she loves me too much. I love her too. :)

October 14, 2003

Dear Diary,

Today I got my test back in Anatomy. I have to do better. This sucks! I got a "D" this time. I have to get a tutor because this class is intense.

On a different note, Auntie Linda said she was going to loan me $1000 to get some things done on my car. No one has ever trusted me like that. I know I will pay her back, but not everyone is willing to do that on some ones word. I got you Auntie!

October 21, 2003

Dear Diary,

I have no choice but to drop Anatomy. I have failed every test. She is giving us a test every week and we haven't finished the last chapter before she starts a new one. I hate to do it, but I have to protect my G.P.A.

October 27, 2003

Dear Diary,

Auntie Linda gave me the money and I went to CarX to drop off the car. The jerking is coming from the transmission. I don't think there is nothing he can do but replace the transmission. I am not going to waste too much money on a hopeless cause. The mechanic is going to give it a pep talk. That is all.

January 1, 2004

Dear Diary,

The holiday's was great! I spent Thanksgiving with Auntie Linda and Shannon. I went over Auntie Brenda's for Christmas. I got some candles, an ornament, vase, and a dual VCR-DVD player. It's time to get rid of Grasshopper, because he is just sitting collecting tickets.

March 3, 2004

Dear Diary,

I just got out of the hospital today. I went in Friday. I went to the emergency room twice. When I went to the Podiatrist, he admitted me right then and there. I had an infected toe, which went down. Next thing I know, my whole foot swelled. I was infected for two weeks. I found out I have diabetes.

I have to drop out of school this semester, because I missed too many days. I only need one more class to get into the Surgical Technology Program. I can do that in the fall. Pray for me?

### "Word of Mouf"

September 9, 2005

Dear Diary,

It has been a long time. A lot has happened since I last wrote, so I will be brief. Basically, my back went out last year. I couldn't do anything. I had to, again, drop out of school. I was out of commission for a whole year. I drank and smoked myself into a stupor. I was so depressed. Of course, God came through for me and here I am.

I am 45pds lighter and in the Surgical Technology Program. Yes, I got accepted and I am loving it. I do not need any more ailments to slow me down this time. God and I had to have a serious talk. All of my professors are great. I can't pick my favorite yet. That would be hard to do.

I am going to church on the regular. I have to force myself sometimes because I be so tired. God has brought me so far. I flat out refuse to ignore His presence in my life.

September 10, 2005

Dear Diary,

Lamar called me last night and we talked. I just think I really don't need him around right now. I am so focused right now and really busy. I don't need a distraction right now. Sometimes, even though you love someone, you have to let them go. Lamar will always be a thug, banger and user. I guess I will be alone for the rest of my life.

September 18, 2005

Dear Diary,

I am enjoying school, like now I can't wait to get there tomorrow. I am a little nervous, because I have two tests tomorrow. They are in Mrs. McDuffy's class and Mrs. Collins. I am a little nervous, but as much as I study I should pass.

Lamar wants to get back together and I basically told him no. I am so focused right now and I don't need anyone to break that focus.

He told me he wasn't willing to change. I can't make him and I don't have time to baby sit. Changing and doing better are two different things. He told me I have too much pride. I do have pride, but my pride does not keep me from taking advice into consideration. I have come a long way by faith. I can't remember what guy said it, but he said, "Without struggle there is no progress". Through faith I have God. That's all I really need.

October 1, 2005

Dear Diary,

I am exhausted. Last week was the worst I've had in a long time. I was manic the whole week. It was really embarrassing. I took my ass to school though.

These girls in my class didn't help the situation at all. The insults did fuck with my mental for a minute. I took it out on Ms. Brown and I had to apologize for that.

I am fine now. I had not slept in a week. I kid you not. I was bouncing off the walls. I do not know where I got the energy with no sleep or food. I was even that way at school and it was embarrassing. I couldn't help it though. I sincerely tried to be still.

Out of the blue I went to see Dr. Mallick. The clerk wouldn't let me at first because I didn't have an appointment. When he found out I was there, he wanted to see me. He took one look at me and told me to follow him. He gave me a prescription for 6 months so I won't have to keep coming back.

I did not know running out of Lithium would fuck you up like that. I don't know what I was running on to tell you the truth.

Dr. Mallick gave me some sleeping pills. I took them for two days. I haven't really taken them for the last few days. I've been sleeping okay I guess. I feel tired all the time and my eyes are dry. I have to keep going though. I have to catch up because I wasn't able to study. I will keep going until God tells me to sit down.

October 16, 2005

Dear Diary,

I am doing better. I needed a break and I got just that yesterday. Auntie Brenda and I went to the movies to see " The Gospel". I always enjoy spending time with her. She's great! We went out to lunch and window- shopped. We went back to her house where we had some beer and chilled.

Today, it's time for work again. I am eating again and sleeping. A lot of the pressure is gone since I caught up in school. I will be resuming my regular schedule now. Church, school, Grandaddy and studying will again occupy my time. Not necessarily in that order.

December 14, 2005

Dear Diary,

It is Wednesday and Lamar went home Tuesday. He was here since Sunday. I was so ready for him to go home. I was scared he was going to flip out the whole time. It is not going to work.

Other than that, I am fine. My medication finally kicked in. I am no longer manic and my blood pressure is fine (I think). Tomorrow is the last day of school. I don't know what I am going to do with myself. School doesn't start back until January 17th. I will find something to get into, I guess.

January 17, 2006

Dear Diary,

It has been a long vacation and tomorrow it is over. I finally got my grades after a minor mishap. For some reason, Ms. Brown's entire class got an "I" for their grades. They cleared it up in two days. I got four "B's". I do believe I did very well.

I spent my vacation mostly chillin and getting my drink on. I did go see Granddaddy. When I am in school I don't get to see him much. Although I began this year at a deficit, I do believe it may end with some good memories for the scrapbook I call a brain.

Granddaddy bought me some school supplies. That was a huge help. I am still looking for a part-time job. My mental faculties are in place and I cannot be more prepared than I am right now.

February 21, 2006

Dear Diary,

The last two weeks have been okay. I had a bad spell a couple of mornings ago. I was just thinking about Pop. I am his only child and he really wanted grandchildren. I just cannot give them to him. I am the last of him. I hate that thought. I wish I could go back in time sometimes. But life is not like that.

I am still afraid I will not survive the semester. I am doing my best. I will not give up. I am going to get that degree. Only God can tell me no. I will finish. I am not a quitter.

My mom is not speaking to me again. I guess, I really don't care. Neither is Ke-Ke. I am not going to loose sleep over either one of them. I love them both, but I can love them from a distance. I do not need the drama in my life right now. Both of they ass too damn sensitive for me. I don't know what the hell I did, but I am too through trying to care and I am focused on school at the same time. This shit hard enough!

March 28, 2006

Dear Diary,

I am not doing well in school. It's like the bottom fell out. I am still studying, but I do not think I will survive one, if not two of my classes. I am afraid. I am doing my best, but I feel it's not good enough. There is just too much information.

I keep failing test. I study for those tests, but when I get the actual test, something goes wrong. I am just going to have to hold on for the rest of the semester. I have to beef up my game.

On the other hand, I did really well last semester. So well, in fact, I was invited to the annual awards ceremony at school. Don't I feel smart? (giggle) If I can, at least get a "C" out of these classes, that would be love.

On the home front, everything is as good as can be. I got a bill from the light company for almost $300. I am not paying it because it ain't right. How you going to charge me for a bill from five years ago? I have been paying my bill and on time for the most part. Now they want to pull something new outta ya ass! That is not fair!

My gas bill is $400. I went to CEEDA to try to get it paid. I am waiting to hear from them now. I hope they pay it in full. Other than that, I am fine and broke. Can it get any worse?

April 28, 2006

Dear Diary,

CEEDA paid $340 of my gas bill. That was a blessing. I am going to pay the rest next week.

I am still worried about school. I think I am failing two classes. I cannot afford to fail. I need funding and they will cut me off. There is no guarantee I will be able to finish school. I, like totally, need to get to clinicals. I want to see the inside of an O.R soooooo bad. PPPLLLEEEASSSSEEEE!!!

P.S. I gave "Turn Around" to Shirley to read. She said she couldn't put it down. She thinks I should publish it. She's not the only one that says that. But, reality is I don't have anything to say and my life ain't nothing special.

June 1, 2006

Dear Diary,

Welp, I got a "F" in ST114. That means I cannot continue in the Surg Tech program until January. I do have to do prerequisites. This is only if I can get funding. I will be chillin this summer.

I cannot believe my mom and I are getting along so well. I am well aware of how short lived that could be, but I have decided to live in the moment. I have not heard from Boowah but I am so used to the non-existence of that relationship. It doesn't bother me at all.

I find it interesting that when people tell me they love me and we have an argument or get mad at each other, we are good the next day. When my mom and my sister get mad at me, it's seems like they change their number. Oh well (hunching my shoulders)!

August 29, 2006

Dear Diary,

Today was the first day of school. It was alright. I drank last night and I was sick as a dog this morning. I can't seem to lick this drinking thing. It helps me sleep. I fought off the sleep demons though. By the time I had my second class I was okay. When my stomach clenched up, I knew it was time to eat.

My mom and Granddaddy is straight tripping! I am fucking tired of them treating me like a child. When he gets mad at me, he runs and tells my mom like I'm some kinda fuckin infant. He needs to talk to me if he got a problem with me. I'm sick of being hollered at and talked about behind my back. I got enough issues to deal with and I don't need this shit.

He told me was 75 years old. Well I'm 30 and for the last 14 years, where the hell were you? I don't recall seeing none of yalls ass. Motherfucka's was in the wind when I was out there by myself. Respect goes both ways, regardless of age and I could care less who the hell you are! That's That!

NOW, (calming) as for school, I have Sociology and Social Science. They both seem pretty interesting. My instructors name is Ms. Johnson. She seems pretty nice. I hope this isn't going to be difficult. We'll see!

