my lifes many stories

My life is one of many stories there is the one about my mom killing a two year old baby of the wealthy couple she was a nanny for and whatever unfortunate reason she made the unholy decision to lay the blame of that despicable crime on me, her 12 year son. Who didn’t know his shoulders were made to bear that kind of weight. She supplemented her guilt with my righteousness...

Then there is the story on that same son believing those accusations and living a life of the constant tail spin, looking forward to the crash. And that crash happened so many times it’s hard to recount the many tragedies I have only barely walked away from. each crash, standing alone as its own story. Such as the time I was locked up in Orleans parish prison for a misdemeanor. In normal life something like "obstructing the side walk, drunk in public, and resisting arrest" wouldn't change your life, but when you are homeless and nobody is coming to pay the small fine to get you released. This means as an 18 year old myself and all the other inmates between the ages of 17 and 21 are kept together away from the "adults" But as we all know that age group can easily be described as irrational and (as far as my fellow inmates are concerned) Violent. There were times I fought over bread and deodorant and other senseless things but to some degree it was like fighting was the catalyst for life in there. But the truly life changing event was I was in solitary confinement for one of those fights. A fellow inmate that I couldn’t see said a few harsh things to me and I responded in as any decent inmate should by trying to embarrass him enough to shut him up. This nearly got me killed. (Here is what I tell people) That inmate got into my cell while I was sleeping and nearly killed me by stomping on my head and breaking his knuckles on my teeth. (Here is what actually happened) I got into that cell by fighting. My entire life I would fight at any provocation. From third grade through all the group homes foster homes juvenile detention and juvenile boot camp all of my schooling spent in behavior disorder classes till I dropped out and got my GED. I have started fights with 4 and 5 people more than once. so my entire life was made up of fighting but for once I just felt so overwhelmed and tired beyond tired of the life I had been living that I refused to get up to fight this guy. I simply refused not because I was scared of him but because I was scared of where my life was and how I would never change. In this one time of refusing to fight I was so thoroughly beaten it did nearly kill me. He fractured my skull. My two front teeth were broken out (since replaced) my jaw was fractured and I nearly lost half my bottom lip. So a small misdemeanor charge turns into nearly being killed... for absolutely nothing. That’s just one story. I hear people on NPR tell stories of simple things like going to prison and what that was like for a few hours. Well I have been locked from the age of 12 to 18 about 16 times.

 I would love to tell all my stories here and now but am afraid it would simply be too lengthy and nobody would take the time to read it all. So what do I say??? Do I Gloss over really good stories of my many life tragedies like how I used to mix heroin and cocaine then shoot it into my jugular? or how someone nearly shot me in the face or the time I got into a knife fight in Jackson square or the time I broke someone’s face with a chair leg or the time I should have gotten seven years but my brother took the charge etc. etc. see, so many tail spin moments I barely mentioned any of them or I could skip 10 years and say how my life has totally changed and that god must have heard my prayers when I was behind those bars because now I am almost 30 and have had the most remarkable life one could hope for. My wife of seven years is genuinely a great person that cares so much about me and I love her beyond words. We have had our first house for 4 years now and have 3 adorable pit bulls we rescued plus we are therapeutic foster parents for a 10 year old we are fostering. Unfortunately I have been unemployed for a few months but that’s still gives me more time to focus on out foster son...

So to be honest I don’t even know how to organize all of these stories Because my life has taken so many very different turns but let me know if you like my story and want me to share more.





Ps don’t judge me by my grammar I speak better than I write



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