One I'd Rather Forget....

Devon

I don't have to think very hard about a memory I'd rather forget. For the last decade, I've been unsuccessful in my attempts to forget about this altogether. After my parents were imprisoned, and during my teen years, Devon relentlessly pressured me into experimenting with illegal substances. Perhaps he only wanted me to share in the fun he felt he was having, but it really was an odd situation to find myself in. I was sixteen and he was twenty-one, yet I was the one telling him how bad drugs could be. I was the one left to wait up at night because I was worried he had fallen into a ditch. I was the one left to pay the bills when he lost his job because the money in the cash register was the only thing between him and his next "fix". Even worse, the few adults that showed any interest in us and our well-being, became angry because they saw the lifestyle that he had chosen and assumed it was a group decision. It wasn't long before they had written me off as well.

Looking back over the years I am proud for making the right decisions during a time when life is just plain hard to begin with. Today, I can definitely see the difference between those of us who made an effort to keep going and those of us who gave up. But it wasn't easy. It was hard, and there were times that I almost gave in and followed in Devon's footsteps. Not because I really wanted to, but because I was tired of fighting for everything and never getting anything back in return.