From Purgatory to Present

After getting in a motorcycle accident and breaking 23 bones in my face, plus a permanently separated clavicle, including loss of vision in my left eye and taste & smell. Not to mention my IQ dropping to around ~55 from 128 and always in a dream world, except the last 2 days where I remember some things. I needed to be cut open from ear-to-ear to insert metal plates where the skull cracked and realign the broken facial bones. The Norse God Odin willingly gave up his eye and hung himself on Yggdrasil tree until re-born in exchange for all knowledge and wisdom in the universe, including runes (writing!). Sometimes a sacrifice is required to see what has been missing the whole time is what I discovered, and usually it's right in front of you as we fixate on other goals.

Being stuck in what I consider "purgatory" gave me an idea through horrifying hallucinations due to the medications I was on and the things I went through on my journey. I started that story immediately since I lost 15% brain activity and originally couldn't remember the day before including anybody I met. After I began writing the ideas to help retain memory, I fell in love with the thriller/horror genre in literature consider I've seen myself die over 25+ times in multiple ways and places, as well as met some beings that shouldn't exist and some scenarios which unfortunately came true (cousin hanging upside down in chains gets injected with an overdose from a nurse; 3-years later dies from heroin because his mother wasn’t there and died on bail).

After that I began telling people my childhood, and every new person I met requested that my life story should be made out to the world via autobiography since they've only heard about similar situations on TV alone. Nurses cry when they hear my story of my Mom coming to the hospital and telling me that "it's okay to die now, it's more peaceful over there" as I was stuck in the darkness before purgatory and had a 75% chance of dying within the 1st 3 days due to Traumatic Brain Injury Phase III. I’m now considered 1% as I should be dead, let alone be able to learn and admire knowledge as I earned my MBA still with the brain loss.

Growing up with suicide and pot as support, I began cutting myself around 13 and then was told by my mother that it's a good thing that I've started cutting as it removes the anger & sadness that builds up and it’s better than fighting. Even if the most times I cut myself was 24 just because my mother made me believe it was the right thing to do. I caught a felony at 7-years old and was on probation for 2-years which taught me how to be cautious. Then I got expelled in high school to a school where because of how I look, I should be treated differently which changed in time. I want to be a true author and release both of my books, but the words “starving artist” hold true for a reason. To give you an idea of some of the things covered in my upcoming book "Children for Bargain", this poem is what got me writing after I was contacted by ~15 people personally:

What is a mother?

To me a mother is a person that is never there at night, and by day closed behind her door sleeping most likely due to taking 2mg++++ Xanax. I can open her eyes's and she still won't wake up.

A mother goes food shopping and writes checks that always bounce, yet still puts back the things you want except cereal because there must always be at least 2 packs of Diet Coke and cigarettes.

A mother cooked once upon a time, but is now limited to the blue moon, as just the smell of neighbors cooking makes me want become best friends with them wherever we moved.

A mother taught me about suicide at 10 and later her dreams of us ”dying in a house fire together”, endorsing self-mutilation as it takes out the pain and sadness (it doesn’t)...

A mother used her alimony and time with HER girlfriend’s. Whether coming home to meet her kids, even if they were the ones who destroyed my only dream in life, a regular family.

A mother uses you as bargaining tools for how to get money for trips, drugs for herself or simply not to work. ($~175,000 for 2 kids in 1994).

A mother is the one who taught me to be independent because when I’m alone there is only one person who can take care of myself as well as why I grow edible plants and know edible weeds as well as tropical Caribbean plants like jackfruit or lychee.

A mother almost always rented a 2-bedroom apartment/townhouse as one of my sister and I could live together with my sister but evolved to the living room since I was always outside.

A mother smokes pot in the house so casually, that I believe they are just funny cigarettes before smoking pot at 10 than finding some in her drawer. That’s when I started stealing pot as well as cigarettes that I had been stealing since 7 in 2nd grade.

A mother stopped me stealing pot at 12 and we began smoking together, the first time we started to bond. At 14, I could skip school and she would leave me a bud, some cigarettes and a $10 bill.

A mother taught me friends can be more like family due to the way they take care of me, feed me and giving me a place to sleep when locked out for the night…

A mother taught me that even in an emergency, she can’t be counted on due to whatever excuse she comes up with from dogs to traffic and her door was always locked (until I started providing the bud that she would pay for, but I would drive to get so i'd get my portion.).

A mother taught me to avoid family as they can only bring about issues and they are problematic to deal with when involved in your life.

A mother taught me that she can never be relied on as sociopaths have only one person in mind. Never able to pick us up or take us somewhere unless it was dropping us off to my dad’s.