Everything Happens For A Reason

1

Everyone has been through a lot of trauma in their life, no matter how big or small that problem is, everyone deserves love. My life is not perfect, I'm not perfect, everything that my mother, her husband and the series of unfortunate events that I've gone through has made me stronger. I look at all the chaos as a life lesson and tell myself, 'Milo you're better than that,' 'you're never going to be like your mom,' 'you're not going to kill yourself today nor any day that you're still breathing on this earth,' 'you're going to make today the most of it and prove those motherfuckers wrong.'
I'm from Queens, New York, I was born in Pennsylvania but at three months old we moved to New York. I will always call New York my home. The stories about my mom and dad change up every time I ask a family member, my mom would say "your dad wasn't ready to be a father, he never wanted you, he cheated on me so I left." My dad would say he was overly affectionate, too caring, would do anything for my mom, "she liked it in the beginning but then she got tired of it." My other family says that my mom fucked another guy while my dad was in the house with her and my aunt was comforting him, seems a little fake but could be true, my mom was a whore.
Parents that stay together or spilt up is okay, some people wish that their parents were together so they could see what it would've been like to be with both parents. Obviously my parents ended up splitting, I do like to wonder sometimes what it would've been like, "would things have gone differently? would I still be the damaged soul that is kept deep down in my heart? if things were different would my whole life trauma be pinned on my dad instead of my mom? what school would I have gone to? would I have been in healthier relationships? would I have been a better person? would I be successful? would I have gone to college instead of working a 9-5?"
These overthinking thoughts go through everyone's mind, anxiety is built up in everyone. Some people know how to control anxiety, others don't, I once couldn't control myself, I took Prozac for my anxiety, I'm pretty positive I have Bi-Polar Disorder, was never diagnosed with it but from the way I act, I have to have it. I want people to know that no matter what you're going through, you're loved by me. Cry, crying heals the pain, let out every single tear drop that your eyes can produce. My motto is everything happens for a reason. I know you may be staring at that sentence in disbelief thinking to yourself, "no it doesn't, if it does then why am I hurting so bad? why me? what did I do to deserve this?" you're right, you don't deserve it, no one does but life is full of surprises, I'm glad to say that I'm okay with what I've been through. Thanks mom for being the most hypocritical person in my life, thanks moms husband for being a creep and fucking treating me like I was a toy or a fucking piece of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. I thank all the people that have put me through hell because this is my story, OUR story, this is me and you, the reader and I, now let's look at my life shall we?
When we moved to New York my mom had my brother Tate with some guy she met, we moved in with Tate's dad and his parents. They got married, I don't remember a whole lot I was only three years old at the time, the reason I said that New York would always be my home at heart is because my brother Tate and I were very close, we did everything together, we played Mario Kart on the Wii, we played Castle Crashers on the Xbox 360, we played with our toys like normal kids. The house had six floors, we would play hide and seek on every floor, since the house was so huge it would take us HOURS to find each other, we'd even use the bathroom and eat during the game, we knew we couldn't find each other that easily. We would go to the park and play handball, go on the swings, terrorize other kids, we just wanted to have fun. After a while things didn't go very well between my mom and Tate's dad, they ended up getting a divorce and she left me with my brothers family. During the years when I didn't have my mom I'd say it was the best years of my life as a child, my brother and I were obsessed with Sonic the Hedgehog, we played every single game they made, we were so obsessed that we would throw ourselves down the stairs and curl up into a ball as quickly as we could to become him. During Christmas time Tate's grandparents would decorate the Christmas tree in candy and money, they would put fifty dollars and one hundred dollar bills on the tree. Yeah, you might be thinking "Milo, you had a good childhood, what do you possibly have wrong with you? everything seems fine, you just want attention." Yes, I had a good childhood when I lived with Tate's grandparents but my life gets worse. One day my mom calls, wants me to live with her, she didn't want to take Tate because she knew his family would not be okay with that. I was five years old so of course I said yes to moving in with my mom, I mean, what child wouldn't want to live with their mother? Of course I said yes, we hopped from three different apartments within one year. My mom and her husband couldn't afford the rent, her husband sat at home all day and played video games while my mom worked.
"When are you going to get off your lazy ass and get a job, Corey?" my mom pushed the TV off the TV stand onto the floor, it would've been mounted to the wall but Corey was a lowlife loser.
"What that fuck is wrong with you, Josie? Go to work, you have money to make, go do something with your life" Corey threw his PlayStation 3 controller at my mom, then took a sip straight out of a Bacardi bottle, she dodged the controller and it made a gaping hole in the wall.
I was peaking around the corner of the wall that lead to the living room, I seen everything. I could tell my mom was fed up with Corey, she just wanted him to love her and help out but too bad, Josie, karma is a bitch. I could see the hatred in Corey's eyes when he pinned my mom against the wall slapping her and smushing her face aggressively calling her every name in the book. I ran to my room crying, I was just a child, what kid wants to see their own mother getting abused? no one does. There would be nights where they would constantly fight, throw beer bottles at each other, hold knives to each others neck threatening to slice it. I would come out of my room to tell them to stop fighting, "STOP IT! PLEASE! GET OFF MY MOM!" I begged. "Shut the fuck up, pussy, you get on my fucking nerves," Corey grabbed me by the throat shoved me against the wall and spat in my face, then he threw me out the house. It was snowing, I had on a t-shirt and shorts, the snow came up to my knees, I was freezing. I could hear my mom screaming at Corey, "LET MY BOY IN! HE'S GOING TO FREEZE OUT THERE!" she cried. Corey told her to shut the fuck up and I assume he threw her across the room, I heard a loud bang and she groaned in pain. I cried as well, a six year old boy sleeping in the snow, my mom could have called the cops and tried to help me but she didn't, she was a selfish prick.
Now you may be thinking, "Wow, Milo, you weren't lying, that's some fucked up shit right there." Yeah, this is only the beginning. I wasn't the nicest kid when I was in elementary school, I like to think of it as; When you grow up around negativity that's how you act because you think it's okay. I was quite popular in my New York schools, so of course I was an asshole. They say when you're negative to people, tear them down, bully them, its because they're not happy with themselves, they're jealous of you. Yes, I'll admit it, I was jealous of a bunch of kids in my school, nobody knew about my situation back at home.
I enjoyed school for the most part, I enjoyed playing games, having show and tell, working on the basics. I would hang out with a bunch of other kids, I would eat lunch with them, then there was this fat kid that would always fuck with me during recess, (he was obviously jealous of me).
"Hey, Milo! don't those wood chips look tasty?" fat boy scoffed and pushed me off the swing making me eat dirty snow and wood chips.
His friends laughed, I walked away, I had an idea. I grabbed a cup from the cafeteria without anyone looking and I filled it up with snow and then pissed on it.
"You know, Scotty, there's no need to be a fucking douchebag, here's a lemonade icy, let's be friends." I handed him the piss icy and smiled.
Scotty licked it and took a few bites, rip his fucking teeth, man.
"Ew! what the fuck is in this? you prick!" Scotty threw the icy on the ground and chased me.
"IT WAS MY PISS YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! MAYBE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON, HUH? FAT BOY?" I climbed on top of the monkey bars because I knew his fat ass couldn't climb.
I also remember when I was in school it was around halloween time, we had to make cards for old people that were in a retirement home. I made a black cat and I was upset, I loved my artwork, I didn't just want to give it away. I gave the black cat to this old guy, he had a whole stack of sodas in his room, I took all of them and threw them in the garbage and left the room.
I regret doing that as a kid, I wonder where Scotty is now, but what I do know is that he was probably going through the same thing I was going through, I know his family probably made fun of his weight, tried to put him on diets and during gym class the coaches would make him work more, it had to be embarrassing for him, that's why you never make fun of anyone, it happened to me and I did it to him, it's not fun, it just makes you a coward.
You never know what anyone is going through, take peoples emotions into consideration, I'm not saying that receiving negativity from others is okay because it's not, but people that are negative probably either A get a thrill out of fucking with people, or B what I said before about not being happy with themselves and C they're just complete assholes. If someone is being mean to you, ignore it, they're not worth it. Their degrading words mean nothing, who cares what other people think about you? You know deep down that you're not what those people say you are, do what makes you happy, if you like to read, write, play video games, sit around all day and pick your fucking nose, do you! As long as you're happy with yourself and you know your worth and truth, no one else fucking matters, keep that in mind, love yourself, because the only person that knows you like the back of your hand is yourself. Your heart is always going to be in the right place, your heart is the most caring thing about you but listen to your gut, that's the realest motherfucker you'll ever appreciate, keep up the good work, I'm proud of you.