Going Home For The Last … Again by Sydd Thompson


I've always tried my best to promote positivity, even when I was down and felt like I was alone. Growing up, my life never felt like it was my own. My parents were divorced, living their own lives, and telling me how horrible and worthless the other one was. It was my older brother and I; he spent more time in jail than out. My dad was an alcoholic that liked to put his hands-on people when he didn't get his way. My mom found her escape in a different kind of bottle, whatever she could convince a doctor to give her. My escape was the church, even as a young child. Not because of religion, no no… in church they accepted me, they offered hugs, smiles, happiness, and positive energy. Unfortunately, not enough for me to take back home with me. I would then be accused of trying to be better than my family, it didn't matter if I was at my dad’s or my mom’s. If I was visiting my dad’s it was usually because he needed some yard work or gardening done, not because he actually wanted me there.


The happiest time I remember with my brother and my mom was when we were in a protection program because she told police that my dad was threatening her and us; it only lasted close to a year. My mom met my stepdad and promised everything was going to change. She promised that he loved us, as she covered her black eye with make-up.

As an 8 or 9-year-old, I enjoyed cereal for dinner. At the age of 10; the Department of family and Children services were knocking at the door offering me a better life.

My brother still in a youth detention center or YDC, my stepdad in jail, and my mom unable to get herself out of bed, due to her bottled escape.


It was arranged for me to go live with a pastor while my mom went to a rehab in Texas. That only lasted a few months before she hurt herself so she could get her fix medically. After being kicked out of the rehab she moved to Valdosta, Georgia and again offered a better life. I lived with the pastor for almost two years. My mom came to visit and convinced him to allow me to spend the weekend with her, not knowing that I would not be coming back. I happily packed a suitcase with my best outfits and my Bible. As we pulled out of the driveway my mom informed me that she was not bringing me back. I cried the entire trip. Now 12 years old, and able to do anything I wanted because my mom worked at a restaurant and we lived in a motel. I found myself going to different churches and bonding with the youth groups, because I always felt so alone.


Fast forward to age 14, I get called into the office at school. My stepmom was there waiting for me, I was so confused. Apparently, my mom was in jail and so was my brother, I was alone again. I was then forced to move to my dad's house, lucky me. He had just bought 5 acres of land that needed to be cleared... by hand. My dad taught me a lot growing up; how to garden, how to use tools, how to fish, how to butcher animals, and how to build a pig pen.... etc. He did not teach me how a man should treat a woman, how a relationship should work, or how to be a father. I had to learn that last one by protecting my younger brother and sister when my dad had too much to drink and took it out on my stepmom.


When I was finally old enough to move out, I was gone. No looking back. I made my own family. I met a man that became my dad, since his son and I were best friends. He taught me how to treat other people with respect, how to get a job, how to love, and how to be a dad. Then without anyone knowing he was sick; he was taken away from us. It was a complete stab to the heart. There were many of us "Lost Boys" that he had taken in, that now were without a dad. There were 3 of us that became inseparable, we were brothers. Not friends, not best friends, we were Brothers... "3 Of a Different Kind".



Taybo was the musician that was shy around females and was very insecure of his weight but had the biggest heart like his dad. Matt was the Inmate; he didn't care about rules and he was the security guard of the three. His voice was deep, and you stopped to listen when he spoke. He loved the company of different women regardless of relationship status. Me, I was the conscience of the three. I was the one that would calm Matt down when his temper flared out of control. I cheered Taybo on when he was down and depressed. I was the positive encouragement of the group. We of course went our own direction when Pops passed away, but we stayed in contact with each other.







I will never forget the phone call. I was at work in Florida and Taybo called me from Georgia... "We lost Matt!!" there was silence.


What did he mean we lost Matt? I just talked to him the week before. Matt had an argument with his girlfriend and left walking the Friday before, they found him in the woods Wednesday... He had hung himself.



I was broken, I left work in tears. I died with him, my life ended that night, so I decided right then and there that I was going to spread awareness. I know this is a long read just make a point, but I wanted you all to know that those of us walking around with a smile and offering a hug, those of us spreading positive energy to others; we have been through it. We know that you have been through it as well and we aren't just saying that we understand, we actually do understand. I have used every bad thing in my life as motivation to continue with my life. I have thought about ending my life multiple times but ending my life will only hurt others and it would be selfish of me to leave that burden on all of my loved ones.


Stay Positive and keep moving forward.
Positive Energy Equals Positive Outcome

Please share and visit these links for more information. https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ https://suicidology.org/resources/nspw/ https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/products/databriefs/db362.htm


**We are not medical professionals, if you need immediate assistance call 911. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:1- 800-273-8255


15 views

CONTACT

  • White Instagram Icon
  • White Facebook Icon
  • White Tumblr Icon
  • White Pinterest Icon

© 2019 by Adela Hittell 

Proudly created with Wix.com