UNK

Introduction 

 

I believe that everyone wants to feel that they have a fascinating life. When it’s all said and done and the handful of dirt is dropped on your box, wouldn’t it be nice if someone said, “Wow. They had a fascinating life.”?  

 

Well, I have. 

 

How do I know this? From the age of fourteen people have told me so. Make no mistake though, this isn’t exactly good news. Fascinating doesn’t necessarily mean brilliant, or extraordinary, or that a statue will one day be erected in my honor. In my case, it means chaos, pain, and a lot of income for my therapist. It also means mistakes, wrong choices, and a nightstand stacked with prescriptions. It’s no surprise that people have also told me that I should write a book. It’s something I’ve mooned over for the last fifteen years. What is considered fascinating can only be a matter of perspective, right? 

 

My people call me Bird. This is not my birth name, but the name I legally chose to step into my new life with. It has taken me no less than thirty-four years to take this step. I was raised in a small town in Tennessee, complete with the usual small-town charm and values. We shared property on the mountain alongside my grandparents, and if not for them, the dirt would have landed on my box long ago. They were my saving grace along with my Uncle Toby. Me and my older brother, Anthony, owe everything to these people. We were raised by our birth mother, Cheryl. She was an opioid addict and a narcissist. What you are about to read is a series of stories about what it was like being raised by a narcissistic mother. Let me warn you now, it’s far from pretty. Names have been changed to protect the innocent...and the guilty. 

 

After fifteen years of truth-seeking and inner-healing, I have found my voice. It’s something I allowed to be stolen from me, or perhaps I just never thought I had much to say. 

 

That is, until now.