I don't want to know where I'm going I only want to know where I've been

(Or what happened after you left the party)
Those are the kind of book titles would be writers with depth and baggage come up with riding in the back seats of cars.
How did I get here? There was a path and I just kept following it. Not like there was really any choice in the mater. There weren't any real choices. Who am I gonna date, what am I gonna wear, am I crazy, where can I go? Were choices, but they could hardly be "path altering".

The first mistake

The the first major cross roads I ever faced and the worst choice was to live.
I was suicidal when I was 9. I made a choice. It was continue and go crazy or die and who knows. I was a very religious 9 year old and not just because my mother talked to God and I thought the chain reference Bible was cool. I saw the religion in moving moments of music, in natures beauty as well as in the stillness of a chapel. Perhaps that influenced my decision. Perhaps it was just primal to resist the unknown. I chose to endure and pay later, only what does a 9 year old know about rates of returns. Things would have just ended then if I hadn't been so defiant. Instead I'm paying now. Kind of paying for my sins, but what sin did I commit that I must be so harshly punished for now; pride, defiance, bad choices? Choosing to stand against the hate, trading hate for striking blows, trading visible scars for invisible ones. I would have given anything to have the blows back in place of the vocal violence, bruises fade faster.

I'd be crying now - I feel like crying. I physically feel like crying, but, there it stops. I can't cry. I'd like to cry perhaps but I don't really know. I'd like to walk out of this place, walk out of my life, walk away from my mind, but I can't. Christ, everyone knows you can't. You're tied to this miserable life by an invisible chain. My chain is tangled and confused. It's tangled with other chains, not linked to any just tangled, a temporary set up. I'm expendable just like all the others

Tough Love

In a desperate moment I would call the cops to make it stop, knowing that would make it worse.
I think I was 8 when our parents brought in a counselor from DCFS. This was a threat to my sister and I. They were not interested in the bruises or how many times the cops had been called for disturbances. They were there to explain that my sister and I would be put into the system, most likely be moved from foster home to foster home and we of course would be separated. We didn't realize parents had that much power. They can kick you out of their house but make it so you can't stay in the same town. They can actually force you to leave town.
This was the era when “Tough Love” was so popular.
Oh and we were classic examples.

Signs of a troubled teen:
Your child becomes more secretive, and it seems like more than a desire for greater privacy

True. All we ever did was hide up in our room reading or writing. We lost our bedroom door so there was less secrecy.

Your teen has regular, sudden outbursts of anger that are clearly unreasonable and out of proportion to whatever has caused the anger

Clearly screaming crying jags are inappropriate as your room and all your worldly possessions litter the backyard to be thrown out and given away.

Your teenager has suddenly changed his or her peer group and hasn't made an effort to let you meet these new friends. The new group has led to a distinct change in appearance (clothing, jewelry) and change in attitude (more sullen, defiant, hostile).

We were sullen, we occasionally kicked the crap out of each other, we didn’t have friends. And the one friend we found to play with in the neighborhood our mother screamed at for leaving the back gate open. She never came back

Your adolescent has stolen money from your purse on regular occasions.

Totally. All the time. We wanted popsicles, ice creams and candy like the other kids. And we didn’t ask, because we weren’t allowed sweets.

Your adolescent has extreme mood swings, from depression to elation, and seems to sleep a lot more than usual at times.

True. All it took to crush our mood was our mother in a bad mood.

So we really had no defense. We didn’t tell people. I mean how embarrassing to admit we were so horrible that our parents couldn’t stand us. So we sat there sullen and scared, for no matter how my sister and I fought we were the only thing we had.

Stand off

I keep thinking things will get better. I just keep thinking if we do what they want. But it never seems to matter. Sometimes I don't even know what sets the powder keg off. Suddenly everyone is screaming at everyone. I think momma found some chocolate in Kendall's stuff and ("She's not supposed to have it, it makes you crazy. What right do you have going thru my stuff? You little Bitch. Leave me alone.") suddenly Kendall is pinned to the floor, her arm twisted hard behind her back, screaming bloody murder which will only incense our mother more. I want to run from the room. There is nothing I can do but cry. Maybe the neighbors will call the cops. Maybe the cops will arrive at the plate glass door to the scene of 180lb mother sitting on her 11 year old daughter with a gangsters 1/2 nelson pushing her arm up so much she could scratch the top of her own head. but I can't run. If she notices me will I be next for screaming at her to stop it? I back into the living room as Kendall flails and thrashes. Suddenly she rolls and pushes and is free. Running for the front door. Her face is red and puffy from crying and screaming, her arm hangs limp and she uses the other to open the door. She's gonna make it. If she can just get away this can deescalate. But the limp arm flaps behind her and the nails bite into the upper arm and she is yanked back yowling she crumples to the floor a tiny ball kicked to the side as the front door shuts. But she leaves her there. Suddenly it has stopped. Kendall uncurls a bit and I creep over to her as our mother retreats down the hall. We both keep looking, listening for any telltale sound. The dialing of a phone. Is she calling our father, the cops, DCFS? Kendall's hand flexes and tho' sore she seems unbroken.
Next will come the hours of yelling and lectures. Even if they're not directed at me I will have to stay and listen. Maybe we will break for dinner, maybe there will be no dinner, maybe she'll stop so we can go to bed, maybe she'll yell at us for nodding off after 11. I look for a comfortable spot on the hardwood floor to wait it out terrified to mention I have homework.

The details of my life are inconsequential

When you have to attend to the reality of things, the mere incidents of surface existence, the depth fades into the mysterious stillness beneath. Exhaustion seeps into every nerve of my body. My mind slows to a stop and confusion is temporarily subdued. Why does it all seem so pointless? The empty numbness seething inside me beckons for relief, for feeling and knowledge but my mind can not accommodate those desires with locked gears.
Then one day
The pain of remaining a bud
became more unbearable than the pain of blossoming.
The painful anxt of becoming mad.

9 months grounded

"You look like your dressed to run away"
She was right. I was wearing warm favorite clothes. I had to change. The unseen nail had gouged a large chunk out of my back and the other shirt had become sticky with blood. It was like a court recess and then right back to the trial. "Fine go change clothes we wouldn't want YOU to be uncomfortable"
I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying anymore. My eye was swelling up and my head was pounding. I wiggled my teeth with my tongue. My father may have loosened a few shoving his paw in my mouth, but at least I bit down hard enough he withdrew it to smack me upside the head. It had come down to tag teaming. After Kendall stood up to my mother, she realized we might be able to take her. I wonder if she had any idea of the adrenaline that coursed thru us as war broke out in the house.
So here I was, in shock not listening just agreeing to anything they said. Yes, I'm crazy. Yes, I'm stupid. Yes I'm a lying son of a bitch. Yes, everything, all of it is true. Just lets "let it be" tonight. Just let it rest before the sun comes up. I have to go.
We went to our corners. I went over my room and removed everything I loved and valued and hid it in a storage space. With a tiny bag of personal belongings they couldn't claim I stole I snuck out the back door and took my bike out of the garage. It was 3 am cold and damp and I was gone. I had no idea where to go but I knew I needed to stick to the back streets and country roads. I knew Brent was staying at his grandparents somewhere about 15 miles away. It was too early to wake anyone when I got there and I didn't want them to think what people think in these situations . I passed out on the lawn around the corner by the guest room window till 5 when grand ma came out, probably to shoo the vagrant off her lawn. "Oh, I'm sorry I was biking and I knew it was too early to wake anyone. Is Brent here?" "No Hon, he didn't stay the whole weekend."
"Oh, Okay. Thanks" She looked at me obviously there was more here but she wasn't sure what to do either. "Would you like to come in?" I lifted my old bike up "N-no, thank you. I better get going again" She had begun to scrutinize my face "We could call him" "It's too early for that. I have to go."
I slung my leg over and I peddled back into town another 10 miles. The sun was up now and the cops would be looking for me I hid my bike at Brent's and got a ride over to Elle's. Her mother was out of town and I hated having to admit what was going on so it worked perfectly. It wasn't long till Sue called looking for me. She was worried. My mom had called there and threatened that they would have her parents arrested if they were harboring me. She related that to me in breathless exhilaration asking what happened. "We had a fight, I left". I was still tired and sore and we don't talk about the details. "I have to go". Elle was going to have a party that night and I'd see Sue then. I felt a sweet charge as I passed out into oblivion on Elle's bed. I finally got to go to a party.

steps leading down to insanity's door

Paisley patterns in my head
thoughts of bodies floating dead

Fluorescent lights mixed with rancid rain
a little radiation kills the pain

sparkling diamonds for your eyes
stars no longer in the sky's

turn the tables avenge the past
violence, bloodshed till the last

dying planets, dying sun
animals hunt you with their guns

Can't stand the violence? have a drink
bloody water drips in the sink

Can't stand the blood? take a pill
the dead haunt you and always will

down in the basement through a hole in the floor
steps leading down to insanity's door.

Reality drags you down, knowledge rips your heart
society as we know it soon to fall apart

Some hearts are true, some hearts are fake
all are in the hell we make

Can't take it? Sit and cry
the world will never wonder why

They'll hand out a drug and give some lies
poor child, bloody tears in your eyes

Acid rain eating through your roof
society still looking for proof

Deaths at your door
bloods on the floor
they're coming for you you know

Boundaries crossed
time is lost
there is only one place to go

down in the basement through a hole in the floor
steps leading down to insanity's door.

`89

Take the individual step
start your own beginning
walk the wasted mile
where no one else is living
your own choice, your own test
Yourself you must surpass
the time for making your own life
and taking it at last