一个家庭的地狱之旅(3)
I don't remember when I first became aware that my dad wasn't like other fathers. I saw him on screen but at home he was a regular guy: he read the newspaper, watched sports, was someone I wanted to impress.
Sometimes he let me smoke cigarettes around the house; other times, he'd remind me, I'm your father, not your friend. He was away working for months at a time.
Mostly it was just me and Mom, who was 19 when she married Dad and 20 when she had me. She liked to say we grew up together; I saw myself as her rescuing knight.
From a young age, I was more mischievous than the average kid. Once, my friend Sean and I called a sex hotline and racked up a $400 phone bill.
When my parents had parties, I'd creep around and take it all in: beautiful grown-ups doing the things that beautiful grown-ups living lives of excess do.
By the time I was 13, I was buying weed in Central Park and experimenting with mushrooms and acid.
As my parents' marriage fell apart, I bounced between schools, then to a hardcore wilderness program, and eventually in and out of juvenile detention facilities.
For a while, I became a ward of the state of California. It's sad to think back on, but when my parents told me they were getting divorced, I actually welcomed it.
I loved them both, but mainly they weren't happy. I wondered if it was normal that I was so relieved. Now I think that I was sitting on a lot of unacknowledged rage.
At 17, I had my first experience with heroin. I threw up, but still felt warm all over, relaxed and content. The ups and downs of drug addiction are entirely predictable.
下载全新《每日英语听力》客户端,查看完整内容