When I grow up

 

That infamous question I’ve heard over and over again when I was younger, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

When I was in Elementary school the possibilities were endless. Anything and everything interested me. My answer changed each day:

I wanted to be a lawyer so I could atrociously argue case after case pleading my clients’ innocence; reeling in bank rolls of money in the process. Now I worry about failure. What if I don’t gather enough evidence and my clients get wrongfully accused and convicted. Sent away and doomed to serve life confined behind bars for a crime they didn’t commit all because I didn’t find that once piece of evidence.

I wanted to be a doctor so I could skillfully save lives; rebuilding, rehabbing and regenerating those suffering back to their proper health and well-being. Now all I can think about is the years and years of excruciating medical school. The all-nighters I would have to spend scrupulously studying to ensure I have all the proper knowledge needed for school, residency, and of course to perform miracles saving lives. What if I accidentally make a mistake. What if I have the hiccups during surgery and accidentally pierce a main artery causing the unconscious patient to hastily bleed out on the table.

Oh and of course I went through the phase of wanting to be a firefighter. The occupation where you can be a “hero” without being an “asshole” (referencing police officers). The fact that I became addicted to smoking cigarettes a few years ago might give me a leg up in the fire fighting busy. I have recently relished viewing television shows such as “Rescue Me” and “Chicago Fire”. I vividly imagine rushing into burning buildings with explosions going off in every direction severely struggling to pick up the sounds of screams of the victims needing help. What if I don’t make it in time…

I am just realizing that each of the “random” occupations I have recently talked about all have to do with me saving someone’s life. Maybe in my past life I was a hero of some sort: Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, Martin Luther King Jr., the guy who made the poison for Adolf Hitler. I highly doubt that those occupations would be suitable for someone who has contemplated suicide multiple times. Or… what if they are the perfect jobs? Who better to run into a burning building, with no regard of there own life, than someone who has nothing to lose? Food for thought. “Hey! Wait! Don’t kill yourself yet! That building is on fire and there’s people that need to be saved. If you don’t make it out well… you were going to die anyway right?” No no no that is wrong. Moving on now.

I am twenty three years old now and still haven’t the slightest idea on my uncertain future. Along with my long list of jobs I’ve had over the past five years is a long list of majors I have attempted to study. Starting with the first: Mechanical Engineering, Accounting, Finance, Business Management, Hospitality Management and finally Actuarial Science. All of these majors (besides Accounting) were very interesting.  I have learned a lot in each field, but enough to know that none of these majors are the right fit for me. I’m great with people and customer service, I can sell almost anything, my favorite subject is Mathematics, I strive on eating healthy and working out (even though I smoke) and I love to write. I am kind of all over the place.

So what now… maybe I’ll never know what I want to be… maybe I’ll be stuck flipping burgers at McDonald’s… maybe I’ll get wrongly accused of a crime and spend the rest of my life in prison… or maybe I’ll get into a car accident and die due to the doctor having hiccups during surgery… AHHHHHH there it is!!!!! I FOUND IT!!!

I remember when I was younger watching the movie “Jack” played by Robin Williams. Jack was an extraordinary person having a rare disorder causing him to age five times faster than the regular person. When he was merely ten years old he looked as if he were 50 (or something like that). Jack was asked “What do you want to be when you grow up?” He thought about this for a while when it finally hit him. Jack said, “What do I want to be when I grow up? Alive…”

When I grow up I want to be alive. Alive and well. I know that sooner or later my life will fall into place. I just have to stay determined and put the aggravatingly hard work in now. Maybe one day I’ll be a writer… Hell, if I’m stuck flipping burgers at McDonald’s just know they will be the best tasting burgers you’ve ever eaten in your lifetime. That is all. Thank you for reading my posts. Feel free to like and comment on my wackiness.  I love all feedback.

– Derek Ferguson

Green Grass Growing

They say the grass is always greener on the other side. The past five years of my life have been one big blur. It seems as if there hasn’t been one second of sobriety as I lived the wild life of partying; smoking ounces of weed on the regular, lines of cocaine every other weekend, and drinking every other night until I blacked out. Now, at the age of 23, I look back and think about all the time, money and energy wasted getting me nowhere in life. Some of the movies and television shows I would watch growing up made the nightlife the perfect life to be living.

Four and a half years ago I was a Freshman in college sitting comfortably on a full tuition scholarship and about two thousand dollars in my bank account. Today I am still considered a Freshman, fourteen thousand dollars in debt, unemployed and struggling through depression and anger management. I look back over the years to try and find a time when I was truly happy through it all when I finally realized I never was. It only took me two classes of Intensive Outpatient Therapy to understand that if I do not quit now my grass will forever be doomed.

My grass has been slowly dying a long time ago being deprived of sunlight and water. I guess feeding it nothing but cannabis, cocaine and Captain Morgan haven’t been helping much. Instead of looking forward to class, graduation, and a bright future my mind can only anxiously wait and anticipate the next high. Binge drinking day after day until I blacked out became a regular routine as I neglected all responsibilities in life.

Class became less important as the semesters went on. I guess not having a clear mindset on what I want to be when I get older plays a little bit into that. After getting arrested twice piling up two charges for underage drinking and two charges for public drunkenness you would think I would hit the breaks, even if just to slow down a little. These incidences have somehow raised my consumption and expanded my addiction to cigarettes, marijuana and finally cocaine.

It only took me a year and a half before failing out of college. A year after that was my 21st birthday where darkness awaited me as I blew out my candles. Of course I got all my friends to go bar hopping with me on South Street and various other places downtown in Philadelphia. More blackouts, more drugs, more lost memories. When suffering through depression and anger problems I believe I was performing all of the acts they say “Not” to do. I would look at the hundreds of pictures of me taking at the bars, nightclubs, and house parties and see the smile on my face. Happiness. It got to the point where the only time I was happy was when I was intoxicated.

After my 21st birthday my employment instantly went out of whack. Exactly ten different jobs in two and a half years. Seven different restaurants as a waiter/server, PNC Bank as a bank teller, Harrahs Casino as a blackjack dealer, and the last job I quit after three weeks I was a Sales Associate for T-Mobile. There are millions of people who work hard each day in hopes of getting one of these jobs and here I was running through them without a care in the world.

Living paycheck to paycheck living life in the fast lane. My intoxication level each night would decide if or if not I would show up to work the next morning. Days, weeks, and months of this lifestyle means disaster for my employment future. I will say I am great at two things, interviews and waiting tables. Those are about the only positive things I’ve learned during my inebriated past.

Alcohol and drugs do not mix well with people suffering from depression and anger problems. My mother and father divorced when I was about three years old due to abuse – drug, alcohol and the worst of them all physical abuse from my father. I haven’t heard or seen much of him since. Thoughts of melancholy instantly come rushing in when I remember the nights I couldn’t control my anger. The bar fights, lost relationships with loved ones, and innocent bystanders caught in the chaos of conflicts. Street skirmishes and scuffles sending students and everyday citizens to the ER for surgery due to lacerations and fractions on limbs and torsos.

Drunk and coked out of my mind I was leaving a center city dive bar where I was approached by a homeless man begging for change. After denying the man funds he continued to pursue and pester me. As my vision quickly went to red and then black all I could remember the next day was unleashing a onslaught of jobs until the man was unconscious. If I could I would apologize to each and every single person I have affected and lashed out on hoping to atone for past mistakes.

Job interviews are getting harder and I have finally grown tired of working in the restaurant industry. Without a degree or proper experience it is nearly impossible to obtain a wage of over ten dollars an hour. I try to beat the system and use my math knowledge to count cards at the casino. The first few times i ventured in at the casino I turned a couple hundred dollars into a couple thousand dollars. Eventually my luck turned into misfortune as I was applying for credit card after credit card taking out cash advances on each and dashing to the casino. I would enter dozens of times with over five hundred dollars and leave with just enough for bus fare for the long and dark ride home.

After coming to the realization that I was over ten thousand dollars in debt I decided to go one last time with one thousand dollars. I turned that thousand into eight thousand in just a couple of hours. I knew I should have left, but after bottles of free booze for hours all I could think of was how I never wanted to go to work again. How I wish I could just be rich enough to smoke weed and sip Captain and Cokes for rest of my life. I was on a roll and thought this lifestyle could definitely be a possibility. Not even an hour later I was flat broke and once again on that dark and lonely bus ride home.

Now that I am finally writing I can see from an almost outside perspective just how much my life has been affected due to the abuse of drugs and alcohol. I know now that the grass is never greener on the other side. Only I can make my grass green. Living my life from dawn until dusk choosing water and nutrients over alcohol and drugs. I don’t need a therapist to explain to me anymore how much my life has been affected by going down the wrong past.

Today is a new a day and for once, without the help of drugs and alcohol, I can finally say I am happy. Writing helps out a lot so I will definitely continue with this. Maybe one day I’ll be the next Stephen King. I look forward to watering my grass each day so that it grows and rolls over mountains and hills as far as the eye can see. Today I am 24 hours sober. Maybe one day i’ll be 24 days sober, 24 weeks, 24 months, 24 years…