Why do I …………?
“There’s no conversation , it’s just written on my walls”. These 9 powerful words written by Emery in a song titled “Walls” , pretty much sum up my life. When my English Composition 1 teacher, assigned a self analysis essay on ‘Why do I do that?’ , I felt , although this is not psychology class , writing about the subject I choose would be a cleansing way to start off my college career.
Understanding why I have built emotional walls took lot of soul searching and sifting thru years of repressed “stuff” that I never really dealt with. Once I got started writing down my thoughts they just seemed to keep coming and coming , line by painful line , And then finally, There they were in front of me , all the bricks that formed my emotional walls.
I can say I have built a majority of them during my childhood. It was not one that I think back on and remember fondly. I didn’t have the Stay at home mom waiting lovingly for me when I arrived home from school with milk and cookies
or the hard working dad that supported his family and bounced me on his knee. The reality was , my mother abandoned my sister and I . She left the state and moved on and started another family. We rarely heard from her or her family
But she did make the occasional trip “back home” on holidays . So we would go and visit meet the new man we should call ‘dad’ and also our new siblings. When she took off we
were left in the care of my father who was a heroin addict ,obviously he couldn’t take care of us, so my Grandmother raised us and we got to sit back and watch heroin slowly but surely kill my father. Which in the end it did. He died from an overdose in the dunkin doughnuts bathroom. Along with his addiction came the usual behaviors , manipulation , self loathing , selfishness , abusiveness , and of course criminal behavior. It was a tough situation and needless to say , I have some issues.
At my fathers funeral , I was able to write him a letter letting go of...