Truthfully, my sad little co-dependent self seemed unable to say no as long as I was living with someone else; as a single mother this was a dilemma of the highest magnitude. No matter how much I practiced the "no" word, yes always emerged from my lips. My reputation preceded me everywhere I went.
Tag : Mayhem
Chapter 6
My mental health wouldn’t allow such sound decisions. I, the product of a dysfunctional alcoholic family, was anything but daddy’s little girl. I was the spit in his eye, the stone in his shoe, the child he tried hard to wipe from the face of the earth every chance he got. In short, my inner child desperately needed to feel loved and wanted - just once in her life.
Chapter 7
Despite my tendencies toward self-destruction, which had been mentioned once or twice by a few former friends and ex-therapists, I like to think of myself as a visionary. (Perspective is everything.) One could say that our foray into living in other people’s houses was a brilliant move that perfectly positioned us to ride out the worldwide economic collapse. It all began innocently enough with a suggestion from my mother. In all fairness to her, it really began with a red sofa.
Chapter 8
My anit-dates would be all gussied up, shinning like a new penny with broad non-chemically treated smiles, clearly excited about the evening they mistakenly believed awaited them. I'd open the door and say, "What are you (emphasize, you) doing here?" Their explanation followed. These were nice guys, the kind of guys I didn’t like.
Chapter 9
We lived in dark alleys, in abandoned train yards, in office buildings and middle-class suburbs. We frequented country clubs and black-tie galas. No matter what our socioeconomic or geographic location, all of us huddled around fires that burned in metal barrels trying to keep ourselves warm in our own tattered way.