Читать книгу God's Broken Lil' Baby - E. Jay Ford - Страница 6

relude Introducing Me

My soul

Tears Flow from the Heart of a Ghetto Child

No one knows what it’s like unless you are there.

Teachers and politicians preaching about it getting better, but they don’t care.

Things have happened in my life of which I had no control.

Could never see myself being released from the ghetto’s hold.

Transformation from girl to woman was not even close to being easy.

Conditions in which I lived in were depressing and displeasing.

As a child of the ghetto, you learn harsh realities early in life.

So you hold on to your family with all our might.

We have had some good times, but they never seeded to last very long.

As an adult, I write this poetry of my ghetto trials,

only to hope someone’s listening to the tears flow from the heart of a ghetto child.

Life is not even close to what you perceive it to be. What you think you know is not even in the same universe of reality. It’s even worse when you grow up broke and both your parents are drug addicts. They say time heals all wounds. That’s not true. I constantly feel like shit is never going to get better. Don’t get me wrong, I have had some amazing exciting days, but my bad days are a fucking disaster. I don’t know if they are intensified because I’m a total drama queen or if they are really that bad. I have so much love in my life, but because of the events that have happened, I sometimes can’t see it. I’m blinded by rage, anger, depression, hurt, jealousy, humiliation, and a number of other emotions that have destroyed me over the years.

This is my story. I don’t use names just because I don’t want to. I deal easier that way. The events are real or as close to real as I can recollect. Everything you read is coming from my soul. The pain is real. Purpose—that is a strong word. Purpose of life. Purpose of death. The purpose for this story to be told is for me to understand me. The chapters are as I remember my life. That’s how my brain works. It’s random. Each chapter number represents the age I was at the time of the event in my life. There are others just like me out there, you are not alone. There are so many reasons to believe you are, but believe me when I say you are not. Those around you can beat you down until you actually start to believe the shit they say about you. It wasn’t until I got a backbone and become mean as fuck that I become comfortable. I built this wall of hate that makes people not like me. I became unbearable and do it to ensure that no one wants to be around me. I am truly a bitch, and I really don’t care. When you give people a reason not to not to like you, it feels so much better than you being a good person and people treat you like shit for no reason. That is exactly what I did. It’s exactly what I do.

I was recently told I suffer from depression, anxiety, and Post Traumatic Syndrome Disorder (PTSD). Mental health and Black people were not two subjects talked about nor placed in the same sentence when I was growing up. I don’t know why. What I do know is I’ve hated for as long as I can remember, but I was armed with one hell of a team. My siblings are my everything. We are as close as siblings can get. I’m the oldest, and they are my babies. They give me life. My mommy turned out to be my lifeline. It wasn’t always that way. Growing up with parents addicted to drugs is the fuckin’ worst. Don’t get me wrong, I know they loved me, but crack controlled them. My daddy left. I’ll tell you about that later. My mommy, no matter how bad shit got, kept her kids through it all. That shit didn’t matter as a child. There was a point in my life I couldn’t stand her ass. As far as I was concerned, she was the reason everything was wrong in my life. That absolutely changed, and as an adult, she was my rock. I could call her about anything.

My mommy had nine brothers and sisters. My aunties and uncles are the shit. We have the biggest group of comedians in the world. When you add alcohol to the mix, shit gets real. Last but not least, my grandparents are the truth I have never seen such strength. They raised ten children in the projects of East St. Louis, Illinois. They are the best couple, still until this day, I have ever known. I didn’t take advantage of so much of what I was being taught as a youth. I have so many regrets.

Truth be told, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I have had enough greatness in my life to know that God is real. The family and friends I have I know for sure were picked for me by God. They are perfect for me. When I learned who I was and realized what they, people in my life, have endured to love me, I am brought to tears at the thought of their love and loyalty to me. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but love has healed most of them. I have some strong ass women in my life, and they have made me the soldier I am today. I still consider myself God’s broken li’l baby.