#in my defense it was fucking good expensive cheese my boyfriend got my parents for christmas

[lazylittledragon]

i have absolutely no right to complain about my chronic digestive issues when i go around eating platefuls of cheese like nothing bad has ever happened from doing that

#ramble #just ibs things #in my defense it was fucking good expensive cheese my boyfriend got my parents for christmas #it had whiskey and ginger in it #sitting here with my lactose free milk like i'm doing enough to preserve my bowels #people who can eat whatever they want without consequences. what is that like

[iamnotawriterstill-blog]

Auto Biography for English Class

I wish I was able to say I remember it like it was yesterday, but that would be nearly impossible to do. I can tell you what I know about the year, but not how I felt consciously or physically. "Walk like an Egyptian" was the number one hit on the music charts, neon colored signs and electronic music was huge, and some of my favorite metal bands formed right around that time. The year is 1987 and in January of that year, I was born.

It was a beautiful cold day at 33 degrees, only about a half inch of snow on the ground, but the sun was shining bright as ever. My mother said she was only in labor for about 4 hours. Which isn't that bad supposedly. Being an easy baby, I still respect my mother dearly for what she was about to experience, on her own. My dad I call him, Robert Taylor is his name, but not a person I would call father. I can't really call him dad either because I have never met him. I wouldn't get a father for another 5 years. My mother, an ex E4 Crypto-tech from the United States Army, was one tough cookie. She was a "tom-boy' they call it. Working 4 jobs, refusing to accept welfare or food stamps, she was my hero.

My mother had to be both parents, mom and dad. She had to teach me to do a lot of things on my own since she worked a lot. Once I was in preschool, I had my own house key. She taught me to cook by age 4, little things like mac n cheese, spaghetti, eggs, and sandwiches. How to do my own laundry and dishes as well. I gladly did those things because I knew how much help it would be for my mother who works all day every day. But soon things would start to get a lot easier. Life was about to be amazing, so I thought.

Dennis Copfer Sr. was his name, the half Italian, half Irish man with two sons 7 years older than me by the names of Dennis Jr. and Jayson. I remember it like it was yesterday waiting to meet him for the first time after my mother and him have been dating for about a year, I was so excited. Jumping for glee as they pulled into the driveway, I ran towards the door screaming "Mom they're here! They're here!". My mother running down the stairs quickly excited as well to see her boyfriend and meeting his kids for the first time as well. I could almost tell just by the way they exited the car that my mother and I were probably the only two excited. Dennis Sr. exits the car with a huge smile and takes about 5 steps before looking back at the car and says, "Come on boys, don't be like this right now, I'm really not in the mood for you guys to be acting this way!" I was confused but didn't show it as I stepped outside like a man, walked up to him with my hand out, and said "Hello Dennis, I am Zac. It is good to meet you." He was kind of stunned but couldn't help but to crouch down and thank me and reciprocate the feelings.

Time went by slowly as I waited for my new step brothers to come inside. Dennis finally went out and made them come in. They obviously were very cranky and did not want to meet anyone at that moment. Their parents are divorced and at that time have only been divorced for a couple years; I later found out that they felt as if my mother was stealing their father from their mother. The boys refused to talk to me, or my mom, but Dennis said it would take time and that was something my mother and I could understand. This was a weird beginning.

Immediately the two families didn't really like each other. My brothers still didn't like me even as time went on. Why didn't my brothers like me? It wasn't until I actually asked them later in life that they told me it just wasn't fair that I had two parents to take care of me and one of them being THEIR father. But little did they know, their father didn't like me much. Trying to explain this to them was hard, because either way, I was bound to piss them off. If I talked good about him, jealously would overcome, if I talked bad, their defenses would come up. It was really a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't" scenario.

Dennis and Jayson got everything they wanted and needed whenever they asked. I didn't ask for anything another child wouldn't ask for. My mother noticed these things and was always there to help, a little too much at times, we will get back to that as well. It would be this underlying fact that would end their marriage.

Teenage years quickly came and with my testosterone rising, and my father's declining, we started bumping heads more than ever before. At this point my parents have fought a lot, as I have fought with Dennis as well. When I was younger we always had some sort of alcohol in the house and it was usually beer. Beer turned into one bottle of Vodka and Whiskey, to that one bottle of each turning into two bottles of each, per week. Tempers of both parents got worse and worse as my high school career went on. Doors slamming, cabinets slamming, glasses breaking, and voices rising way into the late night, early morning hours. "If you paid all the bills in this house, then you could do whatever you want!" Yells my father. "If you would let me HAVE a job then I would pay some of the bills Dennis!" my mom replied. "Your jobs don't pay you enough for you to not be home cleaning this place and doing my laundry" he responded. I became violent as well and started acting out in school, and started drinking and smoking. This is why I got my GED.  It was when it got to this that my mom had have enough. A tom-boy being treated like a woman in the 40's was not something she took lightly. They would argue nightly, I would hear it and see it, but I would quietly sit in my room only coming out if needed for protection.

A frail alcoholic man, weak and tired, red hair whitening day by day, my father's anger grew. My mom being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, losing her gallbladder, and becoming a diabetic, made her sad. They divorced only a few months after these issues were discovered and that actually ended up being a good thing. My mother and I living in separate house from my father by the time I was 18 wasn't what I had in mind. Remember how I said that my mom would help me, but a little too much and how it was the reason why their marriage ended? Well its quite silly really. It was over the use of my father's car. Around the age of 18 even though I was out of school with a GED, prom was still something that my friends and I had planned to do together. My friend's parents letting their kids borrow their nice car was still a huge thing. My father would never buy me a car, so my mother let me take his.

The 2005 Cadillac STS sat there staring at me like a seductive, sexy, strip club waitress as she whispered into my ear "Come on Zac, take me out tonight, you're going to look so good with me!" My phone ringing off the hook to phone calls like "Zac, where are you? Are you coming with us or not? Everyone is meeting at the restaurant." My mom looked at me and tossed me the keys and said "Be careful, you've earned this, but don't mess this up. I love you!" The night was finally beginning. And as quickly as it started, it continued, and it came to an end. An end to a night that we were all so anxious about and a night that we will never forget, especially for me. After an amazing night I rushed home, I cleaned the car back to how it looked when I got in it, seat back to exactly where it was, mirrors as well. The next day that I found out that my night before was going to be the reason my parents would get divorced.

The closer I walked to my house, step by step, I heard voices screaming, things breaking, and neighbors walking out of their houses to figure out what was going on. My father came home and noticed the one thing I could not fix about the car, the mileage. "I told you to never drive my Cadillac Barbara, it's the only nice thing I have and I told you I want no one fucking driving it, I don't have you insured!" My mom was taking the blame for me. He kept yelling at her "You're so fucking stupid that when someone tells you not to do something, you go ahead and do it anyways!" I couldn't sit there and watch my loving mother who does everything for us, again do something selfless and take the blame for something I wanted to, and did do. I came in and started yelling "Stop fucking talking to my mother like that, you have no right to yell at her like this she has done nothing wrong." "I am the one who took your damn car, I took it to prom, mom wanted to make sure I at least had one normal experience in my life to talk about and be a part of." My dad decided right then and there that he was done with my mother, and that's because in that moment, he thought of her as a liar. She had lied to him about her son, driving his $50,000 Cadillac to prom. So we moved out. And life went onﾅ

After my parents divorcing and my mother and I moving out, I decided I needed a total life change. I decided to travel the country, chasing storms, fixing houses, and building new homes. I finally met a beautiful woman and decided to move to Knoxville, Tennessee. My mother was in remission, my father being court ordered to take care of my disabled mother, she had to move back in with him. They became friends again, and in time fell back into love. The once crazy family was starting to settle and we were starting to just get used to the things we could not change. My father not being alone anymore since the divorce helped him a lot. He ended up quitting drinking and going into rehab for it. My mother who was partially blind for 20 years finally got her vision back through surgery and could finally see again.

Now the year is 2011, life is seeming to be exactly what I wanted it to be. I am engaged to get married, my divorced parents are back living together, and I am making decent money compared to my expenses. I feel wealthy. Life can be strange at times and even when you think you're up, you may just be on the verge of falling down. At least that was true in my case. Lets' jump back 6 or so years...

Remember me getting my GED? Well getting your GED at 16 years old makes you feel alive, makes you feel older and responsible. Responsibility for yourself at a young age is not something you should take lightly, and I sure didn't. I was working 3 jobs at the time, HVAC from 5am-10am, Head Cook from 12pm-5pm, and a Sales Associate for a clothing store from 6pm-11pm. I made good money with very little time to spend it. My bank account grew. By this time I felt as if I had the world by the horns. I was so cool, so I thought. At that time I was probably cool, working, making money, having money to spend, and having the time to do so was exactly what I had and could do.

I guess you can get way ahead of yourself and start taking things for granted and not appreciating things that are right in front of you. Life began to slip away. I started losing friends to suicide (16 years old) and to drug addiction (17,18,19,20,21,22 years old, a friend every year) and it started making me realize that I really needed to figure out how to keep what I have and the steps to take that in the future, I can keep progressing and making my future even better. Sometimes a curveball can really hit you out of nowhere.

At the age of 23 is when everything fell apart. I remember it like it was yesterday, not being able to reach my mother, dad in rehab, friends nowhere to be found besides my best friend Rob. I couldn't reach my mother via phone, online, or any other way and that was not like her to not pick up the phone. I had to call Rob to have him stop by my mother's house where we found her dead. Then the day I found out she passed away, my fianc￩ who I am living with in Tennessee decides to leave me saying that I was going to be too screwed up mentally to be able to stay focused on our relationship and so there I was alone. Two weeks after my mother's death my father had a stroke in the middle of the night his first day out of rehab. Then my job fired me while I was gone because they didn't believe my dad died as well. Even with providing the proper documents to prove it, they already Red Listed me as not being able to be rehired.

Life hasn't been easy since I lost both of my parents but I have grown to be strong. I am now a father and when looking back at everything I have been through, I am able to learn from it and properly teach my son how to do good in life. I am in college at the age of 30 because I have never given up. This may be the end to this story but not the end to my story. My story will continue to grow as I get older. I feel as if life is just now starting for me. A whole new life, the life of a father.

#Ilivedagoodlifeipromise #staystrong