In the City.. My City

It’s been tough growing up and living in the city where I am from.  I live in Massachusetts.  I’m about 30-45 minutes from the greater Boston area.  On a 301 crime index rate for the state, where I live falls at 259.  The higher the index rate, the worse it is – with a crime index of 1, 452 total.

In my city, I am surrounded by drug addicts.  Late night prostitutes.  Thieves.  Murders. I guess what any city would deal with right?  But this place just doesn’t feel like home to me. It feels like one big jail, just the prisoners walking freely until they get caught and sentenced.  I feel like I don’t belong here.  For months, I’ve been dying to just move away.  But it’s so much easier said than done, I guess it alters on how bad you want it.  I need to be in a place where opportunity is everywhere.  Where exploring is the best thing to do.  Here…what’s here?

In early 2013, my city dealt with many, many overdosing deaths.  The heroin people were injecting themselves with were laced with something dangerous enough to kill them instantly.  I thought I was done being surprised by the residents of Taunton, but this by far blew me out of the water.  I could not believe how many people were on friggen heroin, a very low-priced drug to buy.  I guess that’s why it was so shared.  I’m talking multiple deaths a day over the same cause, in one city.  Some were fortunate to be saved by ambulances and paramedics, but more people were not.  Even sometimes, the ones that did get saved, returned back to heroin and eventually died shortly after.

Doctors are so, so funny.  They’re there to help, sure.  Got a broken thumb?  Here, take this.  That should help.  Got a headache?  Take this instead of Tylenol. Oh, but don’t take it while driving because it could make you dizzy, and be sure to keep it from people..from the people who abuse it.

Your back hurts?  Have you tried Vicodin? Should help.

Thank you, Doc.  Thanks for prescribing all these things.  Things that aren’t securely handled.  How easily they prescribe drugs is fascinatingly gross.  Any one ever hear of self healing ?!?

Percocet, a narcotic pain reliever pill, seems to be the second runner up.  From my witnessing, to my knowledge, that seems to be everyone’s go-to.  I know a lot of people on it, or sell it.  This is the city I live in.

I can’t run from it, it’s everywhere.  So I deal with it.  I avoid as best I can, I turned friends into used-to-be’s, and I keep acquaintances as acquaintances.  It’s a very strict relationship here.

My mother’s first cousin got hooked on drugs as well.  Far worse drugs than my brother ever did.  She would be so high, so out of it.  Just a few examples: She would sleep until 5PM, her kids would cook themselves food, put themselves on the school bus, and grew up far too quickly.  Her oldest wasn’t even 15 yet when she discovered “white stuff” on her mother’s nose.  That is a sad story to tell.  M turned into a living, walking mess.  She went from always being outgoing, the life of the party, to a drugged up mess.  And for years there was no helping her.  She was a liar, a complete liar.  A thief.  She cheated on her husband.  Abandoned her kids for days. Disgustingly skinny.  Just looking at her, and having a conversation with her, you knew she was on something. Her new “boyfriend” (at the time) was a big, gross drug dealer in Taunton who also abused her.  When she finally returned home, ready to change, she was all bruised up.  I don’t forgive her, and it’s bitter of me, but I can’t.  I looked up to her so much and all of a sudden she was a disappearing drug addict.  It’s a complicated situation of how I feel about her, and I don’t know how to make someone understand although I know there’s someone who must have read this that can come close to relating.

I read an online article today shared from Facebook, CNN News. The report was that a man from Indiana murdered his ex-girlfriend in her home.  Multiple stab wounds. Police officers also found her chest was opened up, as well as the back of her head.  Later, they made conclusions (and the man also confessed) that he did infact eat her brain, raw. And some other parts he cooked. And the officers asked where her heart was? (Because the open chest) He ate that, too.  She was found in the bathroom in the pool of her own blood in the bathtub, with brain tissue all around her.  Is this the world we live in?  People go from weed to fucking eating brains and hearts?  (fyi: there was never any mention he was on drugs, just saying)

You really wonder about the people you’re surrounded by after reading shit like this.

That’s why I’m on THIN ice with the people in this city.  Behind every woman, and man, there is a crazy motherfucker.  Everyone is crazy.  So I imagine that if you do take drugs, and if you do take JUST the right dosage, you’ll be eating brains and hearts, too. People steal.  People murder.  People lie.  People hurt the ones they love; and do far worse to the ones that they don’t.  I guess it’s how it goes.

We are humans.  Not animals.  “We are savages. Beautiful savages.”

If you are someone going through this with a loved one (mother, daughter, sister, father, brother, etc.) I feel for you, I really do.  There’s two sides: people who are severely addicted, and people who are choosing this life for them, whether it be dealing or buying.  You can’t change the minds of users, it’s nearly impossible.  If you’re dealing with someone you love very much, and they’re on drugs, don’t think you aren’t important enough to make them stop.  You are important, you need to show them that they are.  They’re not neglecting you because they don’t love you, they’re neglecting you because they don’t love themselves, and like a child – they don’t know any better, anymore.

I am a female, a woman, of self-power.  Of wisdom.  Of generosity.  Of knowledge.  Of honesty.  Of ambition.  And of much more.  But no matter how much I am of these things, living in this no good city is bringing my motivation the hell down.  I am getting so entirely frustrated living here, it’s really driving me to anger.  I can’t stand to share streets with these people.  Everywhere you look there’s someone not doing anything with their life.  At the same time, it makes me want to do so much with my life.  But equally, it brings my motivation to strive down little by little.  Sometimes I am almost embarrassed to say where I’m from.  The reputation is outstandingly disgusting.  I don’t belong here.  Yes,  I am saying my judgement, my decisions, and my living are better than most of these people.  No,  I don’t think I’m perfect.  No one is.  Some people love the life their living, even if it isn’t worth shit. But hey, you know what.. Everyone is always told to “Do what makes you happy.” So when people do what makes them happy…don’t be devastated at the result.

One day I was on Facebook, and I read someones status degrading people that are addicted to drugs.  It made me so, so angry.  I replied back seeing all red.  At the end of my response, I told her how confused I am that she posted such a status when she was with a drug dealer, who was also an addict (which I don’t know you’re a drug dealer if you’re taking your own supply) and she ALSO did drugs herself.  Can you believe that?  She ended up deleting the status.

If you cannot relate to knowing someone close to your heart addicted on drugs, or you haven’t been on drugs, then you should have no comment of how it makes you feel.  You don’t know the pain dealing with it.  All you do is wonder for one’s health and safety, and pray that they come to their senses before they lose them all by dying.

Help them, don’t feel bad for them.  Don’t feel bad for yourself because you’re “dealing” with it.  Help them.  Do what you can to make them any better than they are.




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