I can talk to my mom about Straight, but it is never really satisfying. She pulled away from the program before I made 3rd phase and turned all custody rights and privileges over to my dad. I was made to feel that my mom was "full of problems and too stupid to do drugs." My mom was a victim of the program, yet never really did a damn thing either way to badmouth straight, or correct any damage.
In fact, a few years later she joined a cult like church that had started off of Ulmerton Road near Sunshine Speedway.
My father on the other hand is still pretty much pro-Straight. He seems to feel that as long as the parent has the money to pay for it, behavioral modification is a right of the upper class. He fails to acknowlege that goddamn children do a poor job of raising themselves and if you want your son to be on the football team, you could at least get off your air conditioned ass and go outside and toss the ball around with him. I was left to my own devises.
So anyway, we got what we got now. I think my dad may resent me for not being married and giving him any legitamate bonafide grandchildren, but what the fuck can you expect? I had to completely start my life over from scratch at 25, so here I am 44, but really it's only been 19 years that 'my mind is right,' plus I did it all on my own with absolutely no help from anyone. The first ten years of that period was spent simply learning how to leave the house without hating every fucking thing that I encountered, the next 5 years were spent learning to be at peace with the world, and these last four years have been learning to be at peace with myself.
One thing about being an SSDI recipient is that this country does not make it easy in any way. The pressure to just break the chains and say FUCK IT ALL, take some classes and come away with a high paying job is there all the time now that I am spending time with my dad again. There are times when I feel that I am just wasting time and being unproductive, and this feeling looms over me that something really fucking bad is gonna happen if I don't start making big money soon.
I think that one thing that may help snap me out of this is for me and my dad to go out and bowl a few frames. He used to be pretty damn good at it and it took 15 years of marriage before the Wicked Stepmother could get him to throw out his Bowling Trophies from his days at General Electric. When it comes to me, I bowl irratic as hell. One game I'll bowl a 196, the next, an 87, hell, I guess it depends on how hot looking the women are or how many beers I drink. The thing is......... I never learned how to bowl. I don't know the proper stance, how to hold the ball, release it, or any of that shit. Jesus, don't even try to get me to do score, that shit is rocket science to me!! But one thing that bowling represents, is a nuetral ground where me and my dad can just be Father and Son and share some quality time together. Like the time he took me to the Tennessee aquarium on my birthday. My dad has a year-round pass and alot of the staff there even call him Charlie. He had a good time showing me off and showing me around. He did'nt even need to introduce me as his son, I guess they could pretty much tell and for the first time in SEVERAL years, I felt good about being around him. We still got a long way to go, and while we may not agree on everything, he at least agrees that tough love is just forcing your will upon someone under the disguise of "care."
