Hi(gh), Again! 2

--I wonder if my dad knew that he'd have to leave me about 9 years later in this picture. I don't mean when he died(November 10th, 2010), but when he left home. It's like he had the other two and could stick it out with the family life thing, convert to it or whatever.

-- But then I came, and I know he loved me and maybe even spoiled me in a way because in every memory of us there wasn't necessarily Abbie or Fred in the background. Their memories are often based on the backdrop of one of their siblings being there alongside them with their Dad. I was more often alone; I didn't have a sibling within four years of range to grow up with, so more often it was me and him. I wonder if he wanted to make lasting memories, happy memories, because he knew he had to leave at some point.
Abbie and Fred knew him when they were teenagers. I didn't live with him after age 12. Until I turned 19. I wonder if that's why I changed from the way I was in Lwhen I turned 19.  I couldn't explain the change clearly, even to myself, because it was lost on my manifestation with being suddenly "alone" and "isolated." I wasn't really, in fact I was provided a new start that really made me less alone then I was in L. I floated through high school mostly alone, until Tony. That was three years from starting out high school alone (first day- 2003, first day I met Tony- 2006).  first day moved in with dad ( 2008)  to right now, shitty ass time-  since 2011- that's about three years. 2006 and 2007 were when I reach my breaking point. Now I feel like it could be 2011-2012 when I reach my breaking point. I'm just surprised at myself right now. I'm stuffing so much pain away that it should be considered a near un-human feat. I'm obviously smoking a shit-ton of weed (we'll find out when that general practitioner appointment my mom wants to stand in on is- in case they do some weird unexpected drug testing shit), I take adderall, klonopin and try to find a thrill in  subsatnces any chance I am given, besides any kind of alcohol---that was for the 16-19 year old me.

I feel irrefutably sick here and I don't think there's much I can do- for that matter I don't think that I WANT to stop smoking weed, taking adderall, and klonopin, but I want to have friends here  and of course someone to love me and text me/ call me (here) so that I know I fucking exist.

---But on a good note, maybe I was sent here to make up for lost time. Because we lived together, and strangely enough surprised each other by being the people we really were.