The Lingering Effects of Death

I am writing this blog because it is therapy.

I know people see me in social networking and probably wonder, what is this guys problem? I accept that, however there is much more beyond the depth of my surface that makes up who I am. I first want to say for anyone who reads this; I do not require or want pity.

Since the moment I was born, death has loomed over me like a cloud. I could have died at birth if not for the pumps to keep my lungs working. That is a miracle in it's self.

at the Age of 4 I seen my first murder. My cousin cut a man from stomach to groin while holding my hand in West Denver. Now from there on it just steam rolled.

By 5 I had witnessed 4 different murders, two by gun, two by knife.

Unfortunately at the Age of 6 I witnessed my own mother shot 4 times point blank range with a .45. Needless to say something that will never be erased from my brain. She survived, but that was only the beginning of the chaos.

In the midst of a 90's crack epidemic, my mother's injuries lead her to become addicted to crack-cocaine.

I have slept in every shelter in Denver, city park, the bus station. I have been a 7 year old child out in the cold night at 3am. I have slept in the crack house.

Unfortunately death kept following me. by the age of 12 I had witnessed 7 murders, and lost friends to gang violence.

by the time I was 14 I was no longer living with my parents and dropped out of high school as a freshman. I did manage to go back.. throughout my school career I went to 17 public schools.

fortunatly ... (book in the works).. something miraculous happened to me. God gave me a vision. About myself and my family's problems. That was 4 years ago.

Due only to sheer determination not to end up stuck in the hood I have embarked on a journey in my professional life that has lead me to some incredible feats in my eyes.

However at the end of the day, all the things I have been through and wtinessed have been burned into my heart and mind.

Although I strive to become more professional and controlled, I struggle trying to rationalize people's actions among other things.

I bottled up my anger, rage, love, hate and every emotion for so long, now that I am free to be myself. I do not know how to control my emotions.

I know this is not a trait that is supposed to be associated with a man, but I cannot and will not suppress how I feel about anything. I can't... it leads to a darker road. Even though I battle with depression, I feel like I am winning the fight and have lots of reasons to hold my head high.

Please do not take this as plea for attention, for those who truly know me or care about me this is only a glimpse of myself I share with you so you know why be wilding out.

I appreciate your support.

Ontoneyo