Some People Never Grow Up

Some people aren't mature enough to get married.  Some people are more mature than others. Some are too selfish to get married.  Some are too hateful.   Some never grow up.  And some, have no idea about marriage.  In my case, maybe I was too young, and my wife then, was too selfish as well as too young.  I was twenty five.  Twenty five.  It's only a number.  Maybe inside, I was going on sixteen.  Not that I still wanted to party.  I just saw things in a different light than what I thought it was supposed to be.  I grew up thinking marriage is supposed to be filled with love, giving, caring, respect, and yes I can't forget sex.  The sex was there that's for sure.  I think we were about equal in not being able to get enough.  But, unbeknownst to me, my ex-wife had hidden well the fact that she had ADHD.  We had some vial arguments.  I'm not going to say that I was an angel, but sometimes I didn't even know what I did except give enough in "things" that she wanted.  In the arguments, her name calling came out unlike what I had imagined marriage to be.  Sometimes I would wonder how I ever fell for this person, but I was married now, and there was no turning back.  I did not want to be another government statistic on failed marriages.  Eventually, I was given no choice.  I lost that battle.  Along with that, the older sibling brother whom held a dislike for me since the day I invaded his territory, began waging a war against me that hasn't quit yet.  As I said, some people never grow up.  It was a long, arduous battle.  It still wages on.  I don't know whom he is battling with now, but in that war, knowing that I lost, I walked away.  I no longer exist.  I no longer exist in his eyes, my ex-wife's eyes, or my children's eyes.  My ex-wife told me when she left, she would make damned sure I never saw my children again.  She has held true to her word.  A nice thing coming from one who praises the Lord day in and day out.  She told my mother one time she is even praying for her glorification in God so that when she meets with Him, she will be virgin again and bear his children.  Talk about being eaten up with religious crap!  One child is lost with all that religious indoctrination and I will never be able to see her again.  The other is lost with not treating his ADHD and going through life feeling everyone else is a fault, but him.  People have as much disdain for the word "retarded" as they do for the "N" word.  What they don't realize is a handicapped person is one that realizes that they are deficient in some manner and acquire as much help as they possibly can so that they can "make" it through life.  A retarded person is one that has an affliction and refuses help of any kind and refuses to acknowledge that they have a problem.  My son has ADHD really bad, refuses to medicate, and finds everyone else at fault.  My son wound up in jail for assault on his pregnant wife.  After my help of getting him out of jail, I have not seen him since.  He also is lost and most probably from the beckoning of my ex-wife and "loving" brother.

So, during the divorce, I stepped back.  I stepped back into drugging because my ex had visions of taking all of my money.  Her goal was to break me as much as possible, and going back to her original wish early in our marriage, that I commit suicide.  Obviously, the latter never happened.  My goal was to show I had too many expenses except to take care of my children to the limits of the law, which I did.  I was drugging again because it felt good inside.  It took away the pain.  It made me feel good on the outside.  I could "see" things "I ain't never seen before".  I was finding satisfaction.  But, it wasn't enough.  Finally, I reached for an area that my ex was hoping for.  But, I got interrupted.  After that, I decided to take a trip across the country for my vacation that I earned from work.  I packed up my backpack and hitchhiked across the country.  During my week of hitchhiking, I was finding fresh air, God's sunlight, and association with people that I would ordinarily not have met.  I also forgot to take my drugs with me.  The withdrawals began while out on the road.  The one thing about it, I don't possess that gene that tells me I am going to be addicted to this or to that.  While out on the road, I had to quit because I had no choice.  Recognizing the symptoms, sometimes I would turn down rides.  I didn't want people to see me like that.  My withdrawal wasn't as bad as other people's withdrawals.  I have been around some that I would just rather shoot them between the eyes with a 12 gauge shotgun just to put them out of their misery.  By the end of two weeks, I was my old self again, appreciating the fact that I was still alive, even more so, that I defied the wishes of my ex-wife and sibling brother.  To this day, he has yet to give up on trying to crush me, yet I continue to step over his debris field, and march on because I have to.  And that is what pisses him off the most.  I ignore all his attempts.  I move on and I am satisfied.