Despair to repair
Even a broken clock is right twice a day.
I never imagined a life so bleak. A life without so much hope. A life unlike another.. Thus why we all suffer our own addiction. Ive wanted to die since I can remember.. I grew up in an abusive home..abuse and drug use was prominent. Nothing was sheltered. Covered up. Except when i was molested..then no body talked. I started using after I was molested at 8.I started smoking weed. At 13 i was molested again and moved to cocaine drinking and smoking cigarettes. By 15 my father gave me permission to use and drink. As the years passed i used a variety of other drugs.By the time i was 25 i was raped. I lost it. I used any and everything I could. I became a dumpster addict. I went to rehab when i was 26 because of probation. I caught a felony drinking and fighting with my wife. I spent 5 years in probation. Stayed clean for 4 years. Im 31 right now.. I still find it hard to get up everyday.But I try to repair my heart day by day not destroy it. I try to find the good in the world.I try to see the beauty God has shown me. Everyday i get out of bed enough to experience love light and hope.