Didn’t drink last night. Can’t remember the last time that I didn’t drink. My stomach has been bothering me and I’ve been getting shitty sleeps and with the sore stomach, diarrhea, and lack of sleep which also means lack of focus combined with Zoloft, Zoplicone, and numerous multivitamins I haven’t really been accomplishing much other than a daily 10k run and a daily one hour walk with Murphy. I’ve also managed to learn how to cook but I am fifty-three years old and learning how to cook at my age isn’t really a big accomplishment. So I didn’t drink last night even though there were many times that I almost caved and cracked open a beer. But I didn’t. My sleep was much better. still not great but better. I am functioning a little better today, so far. I have energy. I have focus. I have hope. Have a few zits and at fifty-three one would think that that worry would be long past me but it’s not.
Now onto my story. My story of my life. My never ending search to find out what is wrong with me and how did I get to be this way. I will go back to The Heights Drive again. I am three now but don’t remember anything about being three. Does anybody else remember their lives at that age? My Mom and Dad had another baby in November of 1970 but I don’t remember anything about it. he was a boy. they named him Dominic. Dominic Alexander Sean Mckenna. A long name. He was my brother. He still is. Not quite sure where he was born. what hospital. I know that he came out feet first and my Mom almost had to have a C-section but other than that I have no memories. no recollections. I don’t remember much about the early years. As I said earlier, I remember street parties for my parents with lots of booze and lots of laughs. I remember the swimming pool and my crush on the “great” sixteen year old swimmer whose last name was Thomson. I remember riding around in my fake plastic car and I remember Merrick and I getting into lots of trouble. I remember falling from the balcony and getting a concussion and ending up in the “H” hospital for three days. I remember throwing an Indian Rubber Ball against the side of the end house and having all kinds of fun. I remember my first kiss with some girl up on level two of the complex. there were monkey bars and swings there. I forget who all my friends were. I remember Merrick and the McQueenie’s. I also remember Ewan Geddes. I also remember the girl who would walk our dog Snoopy. She was so nice but one day she came back to our house screaming and crying saying that Snoopy was dead. She was bawling. we all ran out to the main street and there was Snoopy laying on the ground dead with a TTC bus stopped beside him. The driver was sad. The girl was sad. we were sad. what a sad day.
One day Merrick, myself, and maybe my brother, although I am really not sure, threw a big boulder through the front window of our Superintendent’s small apartment. She was very old and scary. She would walk around everyday with some sort of spear that she used to pick up the garbage. But she also waved that spear at us often as we were always bugging her or causing some sort of trouble. Merrick was a troublemaker and I liked him and, therefore, I became a troublemaker too. It was fun. we were kids. but, now, looking back on it, we were mean. anyway, we threw a big boulder through her front window and all ran our separate ways. I really do forget if Dom was there because I ran directly home and closed the front door after me. My Nana was sitting on the couch watching Coronation Street. she always watched Coronation Street. What a boring show. They all are. Anyway, I ran inside and quickly ran upstairs.
“Is everything alright?” Nana asked me.
“Yes.” was my short reply.
I was soooooo scared. What was fun and exciting for twenty minutes was now terrifying. What if I get caught? what if the old lady knows that it was me? what if the police arrest me? what if my Dad finds out? so many thoughts. so many fears. I tried to block them out but it didn’t work. I think I was seven years old but, once again, not too sure. really not too sure about anything which makes it difficult to figure out your life.
Anyways, after an hour of sweating and worrying there was a loud knock at our front door. I think it was four o’clock. I listened as my Nana answered the door. I heard male voices that sounded serious. I was soooo scared.
“go away. go away. go away.” I kept hoping that they would just go away but they didn’t.
“Christie. Come down here please. There’s someone at the door who wants to speak with you.” Nana yelled up.
I walked down and saw two police officers standing beside the old scary Superintendent lady.
The police were polite. they were friendly but they asked me if I knew anything about a boulder being thrown through the Superintendent’s front window.
“no. no I know nothing about that.”
Nana looked at me with judgement.
“Are you sure?” one of the police asked me.
“yes…yes I am sure.”
“So you are positive you know nothing about this?”
“yes I am positive.”
I was terrified. The old scary lady was looking at me. My Nana was looking at me. the two policemen were looking at me. was God looking at me too? where was Merrick?
“Okay then. thanks for your time and have a great day.”
“Thanks. You too.” Nana replied.
Nana closed the door and we both sat on the couch. A commercial for Mr. Clean came on the tv. I don’t remember a lot of things but I remember Mr. Clean. What a weird thing to remember. weird thing. weird lady. weird life.
notanotherphony. 