Mindless Ramblings of a Depressed Mind

Chapter 1: The Sperm Donor

My favorite quote from one of my favorite books is “We all create stories to protect ourselves” It comes from a book I found whilst finishing up high school. I found this book, due to a singer I had been a fan of since middle school, named POE. This will all make sense, I promise you. My fingers may or may not be crossed as I type any of these promises. As I am sure you are conscious of how the ADHD/Depressed brain is concocted. Welcome to the Mindless Ramblings of a Depressed Mind.

I was raised by an unpleasant mother, in Charlotte, NC. My parents divorced my father prior to my birth. My father, would be described as the well known rapper Ludicrous once quoted he had “hoes in different area codes” Papa Bear was a pit crew member for NASCAR. He traveled for all the races and met multiple women who he had “relations” with and would move on to the next town. As you are reading this please do not in any way shape or form, feel sorry for the egg donor who helped create my life. We will get to her next. Ok, back to the sperm donor. Around fifth grade, somehow the judicial system failed horribly and allowed my father to have custody of me every other weekend.

He’d pick me up from my grandparents house in Lake Norman and take me back to his trailer. Don’t get me wrong there is absolutely nothing wrong with living in a trailer. However, he had holes in the floors, and I would be woken up by roaches crawling on me. On the way to his kingdom, he’d stop by a local pizza place to get me a pizza and a 2 liter sundrop. He’d bring us inside, tell me goodnight and he will see me when it’s time to go back. What a peach, right? He had maybe three channels that his rabbit ears would grant us with. My bedroom was a small bed and the walls were adorned with NASCAR posters and an Elvis clock.

Then one day, he tells me he has a surprise. He brings me in to introduce me to a golden retriever puppy, named Hank. He was so cute and fluffy. Everything you imagine when you think of a golden. Unfortunately, I never saw Hank again. Well not until I was in my twenties and a boyfriend took me to ride four wheelers and the family's golden went completely nuts. Jumping all over me, kissing me and acting like he was my dog. I jokingly said “He must smell the bacon I keep in my pockets” My boyfriend's friend whistled and commanded “Hank calm down” When I questioned his name being Hank. The friend looked at me and said yea, my dad's friend gave him to us when he was a puppy. Apparently that friend's daughter didn't want Hank. Turns out that friend was my dad, father of the year, thief of identity… Pete, we will call my sperm donor Pete.

So, how are we feeling about Pete? Antagonistic asshole? Splendid, we all agree. As time goes by, dad starts dating. Well at least with women I had been aware of and introduced to. One whose name I cannot remember, even though I can see her face. I am now thinking, that woman was absolutely stunning, she could have done way better. The next was Dina, we shall call her Dina. Dina had two kids, a girl my age and a younger boy. It was cool having kids to play with, but I didn’t care much for the sleepovers. I wanted to be in my bed, in my house, with my cat. We did get to take a day trip to Maggie Valley Ghost Town. They also had a little dog. I do sometimes wonder what those kids are up to now in their adult lives. I mean, I didn’t know much about their families.

Of course, now that I am creeping up on my forties, I wonder how many things I have blocked out over the years. How many other adults are completely fucked up now and are even too terrified to bring their own kids into this world. Are terrified to start relationships, worried they have too much trauma. Well, lets see what you think about the other side of this parental communion.