When most people think of their Father, regardless of whether their parents are still together or not, they think of a man they love and couldn't imagine a life without them. Mine was the exact opposite. In my perception, the man was a sperm donor as well as an example of EVERYTHING a person should never be. I gained this perception at a very young age. It was really simple, as he didn't hide his selfish habits or shortcomings from just about anybody. It was easy to know that he was shady, on drugs, and dishonorable. I've been commended for having an intelligence that developed at a very young age at a very rapid rate. Unfortunately, a setback of that is having memories from an extremely young age. I have a memory when I was two, and dad had me for the day. He took me to his friend's house. His friend's girlfriend attempted (unsuccessfully) to distract me while they layed out, cut, and snorted multiple lines of cocaine in front of me.
Fast forward 29 years. My Father is dead. He died of lung cancer at the age of fifty-fucking-four due to lung cancer from habitual drug use throughout his entire adult life. The news reached me while living temporarily in Colorado with my best friend, Markus. Sure, I cried. It wasn't because I had lost a loved one. I didn't love my Father anymore. That love died when I became old enough to realize what a fucking joke his life was. I had LONG moved on. I did, however, feel a sense of loss. I cried for a sense of loss of the chance to grow into the man he could never be, and show him the example of what he should have always been for me. I cried out of anger, because I never told him how I truly felt about him. I cried my tears, processed the death, and moved on in my own time. In his case, this took a total of about three hours, maybe a bit less. That was it, I'd moved on.
Here's the problem. The older I get, the more things within my life and my personality I can find that are similar to him. I have a hard time knowing how to be social without having drinks with friends. I had an EXTENDED phase where I was quite the fan of partying and drugs, just like him. It started when I was 18 with ecstasy, and changed as I "grew up" until I had myself a complete appreciation for fine cocaine. Luckily, I was born with a genetic defect which caused me to have epilepsy. Cocaine and epilepsy are highly incompatible, so I never developed any severe addictions, and was able to maintain a "simply social" habit. I was really good at convincing myself of that anyway.
What scares me the most isn't my former drug issues, even though drug issues are ultimately what caused the death of my Father. It's the fact that I'm 31 years old, and just found out that my professional path has been essentially reset due to issues involving my epilepsy. I have been uninsured for a period of time, which caused me to lapse on my seizure medications for some time. As a result I had a string of several SEVERE seizures in a short period of time. These incidences were report to the EMS board and as a result my ability to work in the field (on any ambulance) has been stripped indefinitely. I am now confined to hospital ER's, med/surg floors, and clinics. Square one professionally, eh?
It also haunts me that since October of 2011, I've required constant assistance from family and friends to eat, play, or even LIVE. I am fortunate enough to have a very large and amazing circle of friends that I love very much, and who love me very much in return. They are true friends, who have extended every courtesy to help me through "tough times" but I still find myself back at square one. I've got to wonder how much of my hardship is circumstantial, as I've convinced myself, and how much is influential, as I've caused myself based on my own life decisions.
The bottom line is this. I LOVE who I am as a person, but I could stand for SO much improvement. Moreover, while I may love who I am, I don't love where I'm at in life. I'm afraid of where I'm going because I don't like where I've been. I can never thank those who love and have helped me enough, but it's time to help myself. What scares me is that it's become second nature to be thankful and show gratitude for help from others. What I need to be doing is strengthening my own game, so I don't need that help from others. I need to be unlike my Father, I need to be my own man, I need to be self-sufficient. I don't know how I'm going to get there, but I'm going to do it by and for myself. I will not let myself become my Father, ever...
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