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So I guess you can say from an earlier age I have been perpetually waiting for the grand finale. The big hooray. Bombs bursting in air right before everyone joins hands with gigantic smiles to bow before the adoring audience. I refused to take scheduled naps as a toddler, certain that if coaxed into a time framed nap Life would sneak around my shut eyes and I will have missed the best part of my show. Although as a child my anxiety was easily dismissed by me simply needing to grow up. I feared missing silly imaginary events that most of the time revolved around my brothers soul participation. So on the occasions the adults won or I was simply overpowered by exhaustion and I was forced to waste minutes or “MY GOD” hours even of my day laying quietly, I would awaken furious, I mean fucking pissed but with not a clue what the fuck for or why. I’m pretty sure my self memories are just a little biased, but of course perfect little angel as I screamed from the top of my lungs and used my fists to bang on my crib angerly announcing morning time and coming to the realization that I had been tricked into falling asleep again. I’m not sure how to explain it since reading a clock and understanding time didn’t really happen for me until the 5th grade but somehow even in my earliest memories I of was aware of the blank emptiness of sleep. I felt the lack of experience and the complete secession of gaining knowledge. Whatever voodoo magic or teleporting method falling asleep was tied to I felt the difference and change. Like most people nightmares caused me to be afraid as sad dreams would sometimes pull whimpers from my throat. However, I was consciously aware that opening my eyes would always end the dream scene and real life would begin its authentic sonnet again. The anger, I can’t always explain or sum up but it has stayed with me like a dirty habit I’m too proud to quit or resolve.

My teenage years were extremely busy or maybe just simply filled with what now seems mindless activities that revolved around either becoming more or staying popular Ya’ know one of the “Cool Kids”. I forgot to learn the lesson behind my dad making us pay for any equipment needed or participation costs that come with playing sports in public school, but that was the rule. If we wanted to play sports this was something we were responsible for funding ourselves. Since I was still too young to hook…..JOKE ! This meant gainful employment was required. I used to be so proud of the fact that I held three part time jobs, played sports, and still partied as a teen. As an adult I am more proud of my ability to hold it all together. The three time a week church attending, cussing teenaged worker bee. All my friend’s parents trusted me because they themselves witnessed my bowed worshipping head on Sunday’s and therefore just as in guilty by association my friends were found to pure as the virgin blood of the lamb if they were to have me over to meet there parents. This granted my friends weeks sometimes even months of reprieve from the endless questioning that tailgates parenting more often than not. Frankly I was just running and running and running. I vividly remember ever inch of the family couch at this time. This doesn’t really make too much sense though because all it took for me to fall asleep was to sit for a second. Literally I would sit to catch my breath and the next thing I know its 8 hours later and I’m in the same spot having passed the fuck out unawakenable due to just plain low energy of keeping all my shit straight. I don’t remember ever desiring to take a nap during this time, but I guess science explains humans require sleep.

Highschool was followed by my first steps into what looked like from outside appearances adulthood. Maybe this is when everything caught up with me but FUCK was I tired. I slept through everything. Alarms for class, alarms for work, even alarms intended to evacuate dwellings in the event of emergencies. Nothing could wake me up. Also, I am really sorry to anyone to had to try and wake me during this period of my life. To say that I wasn’t myself after being woken up is an understatement. It wasn’t the anger of simply needing a Snickers, no it wasn’t hangry. I was the beast unleashed. Although, the explosions were usually brief and completely forgotten about by midday. It goes without saying there was definitely something not right, perhaps an underlying issue. That and I was really unapologetic about my morning outburst at this time. I had a take it or leave it attitude that no one in my life deserved. Then there was METH. I won’t bore you with the details of my 1st use. It was just like the documentaries warn. I was hooked. Not only did I no longer have to worry about missing my life with sleep, I was able to show up to work on time, stay up all night with my friends and create craft projects like a motherfucker. I never stopped to think abo

ut the consequences of running out of it. I didn’t have to worry about this for a few years, it was everywhere and everyone had it.