Me, Myself And My Meningioma

Introduction

They say that humans start to form their memories around the time their two or three years old.
Basically around the time we start learning how to talk.
Relating, objects to things, things to ideas. Ideas become plans, and plans whether or not executed, becomes memories.

I remember at a very young age wishing I could run.
For me this is where all the learning how to play hard came from.
I was a kid who could not run.
I'm not running from no fight, I'm not running to no fight.
Tell me about it, is what I used to tell my friends.
I'm not scared of no bee's, no dog's, no n***as waving any gun's.
Deep down inside, I was thinking Jesus Take the Wheel.
Which let me know all the way back then there's a God because I never been stung, bitten, or shot before.

On the other hand October 31, 2017 was my last time looking and feeling like myself.
My faith is still strong without question, more so to me because I don't go church. I've been the first to attack organized religion like an atheist, but without a shadow of a doubt knows God got his arms wrapped around me.
To many times I have been under some doctors knife.
Closer to death than any if not all of y'all.
I know most of y'all and each and every time God has pulled me through.

I wrote a book about heaven.
The day I wrote and brag about it on Facebook, my sister and I was in that car accident.
I just couldn't let it go.
It was like f**k that book.
The man who hit us had some pull to. He hit us and at that time he didn't just hit Shakey Sherrell.
He had just hit Shevonne Nicole and that was a difference.
Shevonne Nicole was just about to make some moves, speaking big things into existence.
Although the man who hit us practically was running Lake County. I didn't back down, I couldn't let it go. For a entire year that's all I could talk about, think about, be about.
If I ain't never got to used my criminal justice and psychology education on anything before, know I used it there.
It was like a beautiful mind.
I had pictures on the walls, the 911 recordings, the responding officer's info, his wife info, their kids school info. I'm talking addresses, miles mapped out from lake county to the man's house. It consumed me.
Oh yeah, I was gonna link these two. Somebody was gonna tell me why lake county was responding to an accident in Gary. Every time I went to see another lawyer and they said something like conflict of interest. Or we just had dinner with them last week, sorry can't represent you.
I was pissed and grew more out raged with.... But see, back to the point.

November 1st, 2017 I was told that if I didn't have brain surgery basically now I would die before the end of the year was out. I was diagnosed with a massive meningioma tumor that pressed on the frontal lobe of my brain altering my personality, giving me mood swings, and amongst other things, making me not me. Somewhere along the line this brain tumor, I guess turn me into an evil b***h.

Leaving me stuck because what part of that b***h is really me and what part is really brain tumor?
Especially when I've always known something was wrong with me.
A meningioma is a very slowly growing tumor, it grows from the scull or the meninges, not the actual brain tissue.
It basically just presses into the brain. So in order for it to have gotten to the point of almost killing me, yeah it's been with me for a long time.

I was watching Braxton's family values and watching Tamar break down by confessing and apologizing to her family and it looked like the most cleansing spiritual thing I have ever seen.

That's when I realized I have never apologize to any body for any thing, confessed anything to anyone.
I don't hold grudges, I think it's more of me forgetting about the situation or me not knowing what I'm feeling so I just ignore the situation but then years go past.

I wrote a letter to my Granny, because I couldn't bring myself to call.
My dad called and said I was being way to hard on my self, but only if he knew me.
I haven't been able to sleep.
My body is down with my eyes closed but my brain has been racing, playing my life back like I'm watching a movie.
I really don't know what's real or fake.

I might hurt some people feelings, that's not my intent.
I know I'm going to shock the hell outta some.
Yet I don't know, I don't think I really have the ability to care.
What I do know is, that I'm not looking to change the outcome of any relationships.

I'm not really looking forward to a reply because I'll most likely be stuck on a response someone might want to get back, but this is not about all that. I know when I pass away my face won't be worn on nobody's t-shirts. Especially if everybody's living by my motto out of sight out of mind.

I don't want my kids searching for stories and asking about me, and since can't nobody tell my story like me.
I'll be posting explanations or short stories proving I had this brain tumor way as a small child every time the sprit moves me, about someone random, mostly about myself, until my next surgery.

So it's two sides to every story.
Here's me, myself and the brain tumor.
Read it don't read it, I don't think I know how to really care.