Great story brother. Not the perfect childhood but Iām fascinated by your dad. Lol. Iām curious, does your dad get high? How does he feel about your pot use? How much did your upbringing affect your life now. None of my business of course, just curious .
Thanks Brother @Solowolf. You have great taste in music.
My pops used to make me take a beating standing up with my hands on my knees and he broke boards on my ass literally. He fucking tormented me and my Mom stood by and watched, so I have a lot of issues with authority and close personal relationships. Even though I remember him selling weed out of the car while we drove around town, he hated it. He looked down on people like his own brother who smoke marijuana. My Dad is from Ajo, AZ and smuggling is like a rite of passage there. My dumbass cousin got popped with 2 tons of Mexi-bricks in town a couple years ago. I think cocaine was cool with him because itās such a āmanlyā drug to Mexicans. Thankfully, I did not inherit his narcissism or jealousy and abusiveness. I went the opposite direction in my brain. I wonāt allow myself to be jealous and suspicious of women I am with. I love all animals and nature. I want kids to be laughing and at peace having fun all the time. I canāt deal with harsh or aggressive discipline, but because of my upbringing and life in sports with some old school coaches and tough ass cousins, I will shit on people right to their face. If I donāt like you or feel like you donāt belong around me, I am very aggressive and verbally abusive to those people. Iām a really good teammate unless (I decide) you donāt belong on the team. Because of the PTSD that I live with, Iāve always gotten into fights very quickly and I acknowledge that itās because I get scared of the physical abuse and it turns to rage really quickly. Loud noises and surprises are always uncomfortable and anxiety attacks can be way too frequent. I make jokes constantly to self soothe or something like that. I donāt ever feel understood because I suffered in silence until one day he beat the shit out of me with a plastic strap in front of my cousin. He went crazy saying he was going to tell everybody and I would be rescued. He did tell, but no one came. No one said a word. Then you pray as hard as you can for as long as you can and you try to do everything right, but thereās no answer because there is no god. People at school see it and they try to get you into some program or counseling, but youāre not the one causing the problem and youāre eleven years old, completely isolated in Hell. It never goes away and so I have to try to focus on fun and positivity. I donāt have many friends and I am not comfortable in large groups of people unless there is some other distraction. My Dad is still a complete narcissist with a bit of mortality creeping up on him and we donāt speak very much at all. You still canāt trust him to not get crazy at the slightest insult or criticism. He still shoplifts for no reason whatsoever and has never been caught. He has to show you that heās stealing so he can laugh at it when youāre with him. In Costco he goes right for the samples and makes anyone else also take a sample to give to him. He then takes a bag of cherries or grapes and eats those while he shops and then says that he doesnāt want them at the register. He thinks everyone in the world is impressed by his 2010 Mercedes Benz. People, mostly men, like him get to abuse people and commit crimes all their lives with absolutely no fucking consequences what so fucking ever and now they get to go play golf with their buddies and talk about what mighty, self-made men they are who conquered this life by sheer force of will. Yeah, he gets to remember the past any way that it pleases him because heās the winner here. Iām a pothead. Heās the winner.
@Solowolf. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for reading it. I feel you.