The mirror

    My life conditioned me, to become "The King of Pain". The pain of my fathers suicide. Living in an Orphanage, the reality of abandonment, feeling unloved, and unwanted. Not only did it make me dangerous to the world, but most of all to the victim I made out of me.
     The Mirror......
            Was once a bad thing. I couldnt stand the site of myself, and I couldnt understand, how I had become what I had ultimately become. A Heroin addict.....
   The thought of that was worse than a stake through my heart. It ripped at my soul, in a way I cannot explain. Not only had I become a heroin addict, I couldnt not, not be one. Not even to save my worthless life... I was completely hopeless and stuck using a drug I was ashamed to use, and stuck being a person I could never possibly love.
   I couldnt share those thoughts, I was a prisoner to them. I often dwelled on them. Feeling a painful shameful despair, and a complete lonesomeness, that only my tears can describe. I desperately tried to hide that.
    Easy enough if your an addict like me. Stay high and avoid mirrors lol.. 
     When you dont have to see yourself as you are, you can live in the perception of who you think you appear to be.
 Who am I today? Im a liar, Im a thief, Im a con, Im a heroin addict!!
    The only thing Ive managed to completely change, is the fact Im not dependent or using heroin or any other mood altering chemicals. Those character defects come and go, and are a painful reminder sometimes, of who I am, and who I was.
    All my life I just wanted to be loved...... My heart is full of love and compassion, I lost to a muffed up childhood. Buried somewhere under the realities and hardships of life I never learned to deal with or accept.

in the beginning

I was born in Alliance, Ohio 3/21/68. My parents were divorced at the age of 4. I recall the last night.. I remember them fighting, and my mother throwing him out. He worked at a drop forge, by day, and bar tended at night. He had been drinking, and I remember her yelling about a woman...  I only remember these things because that night has played over and over in my mind for about 39 years.... I remember him reaching down to pick me, and as I went to him, she screamed, a bloody scream yelling no, dont take my baby...... I lowered my arms and ran to her, she held me as we watched him leave.. Three years later he committed suicide...... Ive never forgotten . I often felt if I had gone w/him like I wanted to he would still be alive. I know thats not true. I couldnt change the situation. I was a child, but thats how I felt growing up....