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I come from a violent home. My father beat the shit out of my mother on a daily basis. I was 4 when I witnessed my mother losing 5 teeth because my father beat her, with a mug.
I was a happy child, though. I loved to play with my Lego™’s, Turtles™ and GI-Joe™’s. I also had a cat and I don’t care what anyone says, he was the reason that I retained my sanity during my childhood.
We cared for each other.
Every morning at 6.30 I went downstairs to let him in and he always brought me something to eat. A disgusting rat or bird, even though it freaked me the fuck out, I knew he meant well.
He stayed with me when I was sick or when I was hiding from my parents. He stood beside me every time I tried to break up my parent’s fights. He was my friend, my father and my brother.
He died when I was 8 years old. I lost the only thing that ever cared about me. It fucked me up, bad.
My main concern in my young life was my mother. She needed me. I felt responsible for her. I supported her. After a fight she’d come to me to talk. I would tell her she’s a good mother and she didn’t deserve what happened. My purpose in life growing up was to protect my mother from my father.
This purpose died when my father left us for another woman. A colleague he’d been sleeping with for 3 years, before he finally cut the rope.
I couldn’t handle the silence and emptiness it left within me and tried filling it by drinking and smoking marijuana.
I had been drinking and smoking weed since I was 13, but this time the nightcaps became an all-day thing. It was an expensive habit and I soon found that there were easier ways to finance this lifestyle – I’d do anything to avoid the actual issue.
Practically, 90% of my elementary school friends had become drug-dealers and thieves, which made it easy for me to get in with the bosses. I held up this career for 3 years and worked my way up until I was moving nothing smaller than kilo’s.
I was a regular at the bar where all the deals and money laundering took place. The place where it all went down, spoiled with cocaine, heroin, crystal meth, ecstasy and marijuana.
By that time I had physically injured and extorted many people, was involved in bar-brawls every weekend and broke my nose twice in the process. I still carry the teeth-marks on my deformed knuckles.
A beautiful Eastern European girl, working in this country as a bartender to pay the treatment for her sick father, stood up to me and gave me a reason to change my ways. I was drunk out of my ass and completely smoked-out when I told her: “Marry me.”
She laughed and said: “Where’s my ring?”
We were engaged from the first day we started dating. I bought her a white-gold diamond ring and we spent as much time together as we could.
The first night we spent together, her body started convulsing. A colleague had poisoned her by regularly adding heroin to her coffee. She went back home and was hospitalized for three months.
Directly after her recovery we moved in together. The first month was great, but one disagreement pushed me over the edge.
We were driving home from a birthday-party when somehow our conversation turned into a fight. I was dead drunk and threatened to kill her.
I became my father.
Stubborn as she was, she kept believing in me. Till the day of today I don’t understand why, but she stood by me after I quit crime and kicked drugs and alcohol.
I want to say to anyone struggling with mental issues, if a scumbag like me deserves a second chance, so do you. There is light at the end of the tunnel.