For Angie

 I’m writing from my phone. I’ve fiddled with the options many times but I can never figure out how to get the font adjusted to a bigger size. I apologize if you have to use a magnifying glass to read this entry. I may also be forced to write this in one giant paragraph because starting a new paragraph also seems to be a mystery far too complex for me.

 
Normally, I’d not bother writing in these conditions but I’ve been itching to write for a few weeks & I just can’t ignore the itch anymore. This entry is about my cousin. I wrote about her a bit in my last entry. I mentioned some of the difficulties that she faces while trying to raise her family. Her constant struggle reads as a success story because she keeps on keeping on, ya know. Well, that’s what I thought when I wrote that entry.
 
Days after I posted, I found out that she’d been hospitalized. Her eldest daughter had to call an ambulance because they couldn’t wake her up. The hospital held her for a mandatory 48 hours on a suicide watch & detox. It struck me speechless. I wish I could say I was shocked but that wouldn’t be the truth. I’m saddened, terribly sad but not surprised. 
 
Apparently, Angie has been drinking a lot. Angie’s 22 year old daughter Brandy, was concerned about her baby sister because of the amount that Angie had been drinking. Brandy forcefully insisted that Angie go take a nap. An hour or so later Brandy went to go check on her mother & found her barely breathing & unresponsive with an empty bottle of pills nearby. Angie has struggled with drug addiction in the past, she lost custody of her other 2 children. Angie would’ve lost custody of Brandy as well but Brandy has a different father & told the court she would stay with him but Brandy never really left her mother. CPS has begun the paperwork to try to remove new baby Frances from Angie’s care. I don’t know who I feel more sorry for, Angie, Brandy, or baby Frances. I’m sure there will be more than a few people who won’t understand my sympathy for Angie. You see, I myself am just a meth addiction away from being Angie.
 
Angie & I were raised as sisters, nearly twins. There’s even photos of us from Halloween & Easter where we’re dressed identical. There’s only a 6 months difference in age between us. She was born Nov, 75. I was born in April, 76. 
 
I had the luxury of having a father until my parents separated when I was 7 years old. Angie never knew her father. We seen pictures of him in old photo albums but there were rumors that the guy in the pics wasn’t really Angie’s dad. Angie asked one of my Dad’s brothers for DNA because we thought that her father could really be one of my uncles who passed away really young. Angie’s Mom insisted that we were being ridiculous.
 
I’m not sure if it was having a father in my life or living outside the neighborhood but something made me different. When I moved back to our neighborhood after my parents separated Angie & I seemed like we’d come from different planets. We fought a lot. Our Moms always forced us together. We’d be forbidden from doing things if we didn’t agree to go out together. It created resentment in both of us. Angie liked to get high on anything she could get her hands on. I didn’t like to do anything other than drink. Angie felt like I thought I was better than her. In all honesty, I was wickedly jealous of her.
 
Angie was a social butterfly. She knew how to work a room. When she set her sights on a guy, they were putty in her hands. I never really had trouble getting attention but I used my body as my weapon. Angie had a cute figure but her personality is what grabbed you. When she caught someone’s eye, she kept it. I, on the other hand would keep a guy’s attention until they heard me say that I wasn’t "that kind of girl." I suppose that was also one of Angie’s talents. Angie WAS that kind of girl.
 
I stood all righteous & pious when Angie was cheating with the father of her first child. That guy happened to be the long time boyfriend of the sister of my best friend in high school. I blew up their love affair. I played the part that I confessed because of loyalty to my friend & that what Angie was doing was wrong. Mostly, it was just jealousy & cruelty that motivated me. It’s a nasty thing to do to family but I was a nasty girl in my youth. It’s one of the reasons that I believe in karma so much. Karma has kicked my ass relentlessly for the cruelty of who I used to be.
 
Angie & I also did the unthinkable, we fought over a guy. I was crushing on him hard but Angie got his attention. He played us against each other so that he could enjoy both of our company. Angie "won" if you can call it that. He fathered 2 of her children, cheated on her often, & gave her more black eyes than I care to count. I admit with deep shame that I was one of the ladies that he messed around with. I never slept with him but I didn’t object to him trying.
 
Angie & I have a difficult relationship. We’ve just never really been on the same wave length. When I say that I could be her, it’s not ’cause we’re the same. It’s ’cause we came from the same place, the same house, the same family. We share the same bloodlines.
 
Angie’s life always seems to be imploding. I don’t talk with her at all anymore. She reminds me of a shameful past life. The damning lifestyle of drugs & gangs. I knew early that I couldn’t thrive in that chaos. I refused to raise my son in that environment. Do I think I’m better than her? Hell no! She’s merely succumbed to the life that seized us both. I chose to run from it. I had more support than her is all. 
 
I care for my cousin. I’d like to do more than just hope for better for her but that house & that neighborhood is like a giant spider web. It’ll trap you & make you a victim if you get close enough. I’m too much into my own self preservation to get thoroughly involved. Does that make me as cruel as I was in my youth? It feels that way sometimes.