Well here it goes. I was a bit apprehensive of starting a blog, since the death of myspace I looked back at all my old blog posts and realized how pathetic and immature I sounded. I will forewarn you ahead of time, my blogs will probably be disturbing, offensive or boring, or all three at once. I'm not really expecting a huge turnout as I have over 300 friends of facebook and maybe 10 of them read what I have to say and the same 5 respond. But bitching about the antics of facebook is for a later blog post.
My name is Wes Morrigan Armistead. Morrigan is not my real name but seeing as how Morrigan is the goddess of war and I am in constant battle it somehow seems fitting. I was born in Texas but raised in Seattle. I have a wonderful mother who I love dearly and she did the best she could. I didn't meet my father until I was 12, we weren't very close when I was a kid. I knew I wasn't like other kids, I was called a faggot by kindergarten wore bell-bottoms in grade school then traded them in for combat boots and camo pants. The camo pants became equipped with chains. Tho boots got higher and black eyeliner became my friend. I came out of the closet at 13 after running away from home to hang out with street-kids telling everyone I was abused (I was but not by family). I went from being the most hated and excluded ugly kid to one of the most popular people in Seattle. I don't like to glamorize my gutter-punk lifestyle but when I joined an organization I used it to my advantage to end up on local TV.
By 14 after going back home for a while I would go all over the city to concerts, clubs and parties everyone knowing me and always in the VIP area. School however was difficult. I could not maintain focus as I was heavily addicted to lsd, pot, pills and speed. Everyone in school treated me like shit and I would get beat up regularly so I dropped out by 8th grade going to alternative school.
The next year that all ended. My mother had gotten a job opportunity in Denver, CO. She asked me if she should take it. I pissed off a local drug dealer and was convinced he would kill me so I told my mom yes. Big mistake. We moved to Littleton, CO. I went to Littleton Highschool where at first everything was going good. I wasn't popular but that was ok, I would get there I thought. Only problem was I became popular with Neo Nazis. Although I am obviously everything they hate for some reason they liked me. I wore knee high boots, put white laces in them and would sneak out to go to their parties. That's where I met two kids who were gothic like me. They were planning a massacre and talking about 4/20.....Needless to say 15 people were dead as a result them being 2 of them. I did not go to that school nor did I have any involvement of what took place that day. Knowing them was enough for me to snap out of it.
Things went out of control lsd took the control for me at that time.
At 16 I ran away again for a while but ended up in the bay area of California to live with my father, stepmother, half brother, and sister. Being a gay punk-goth pagan in a house of Seventh day adventist did not sit well. I wasn't allowed to leave the house for more than an hour at a time, have friends over or visit friends or really have any friends, I wasn't allowed to wear black, I wasn't alloed to read occult books or read tarot cards. Within two months of that I began doing drugs and snorting ritalin in class my teacher was a junkie so he let me and the two losers who would talk to me get away with it.
I decided that life was not for me but I couldn't just up and leave. I started doing tarot card readings at school to save up money for a bus ticket back to Seattle. And right when I finally had enough money my dad Ironically found my stash or tarot cards crystal balls my journal where I wrote my death threats to him and spells and so on and almost beat the shit out of me. But he did something much worse. He made me cut my tarot cards one by one all three decks smashed the crystal ball my grand father gave to me my black crystal ball given to my on my 10th birthday like they were nothing. I never did for give him for that because to him they were tools of the devil to me they were sentimental irreplaceable things given to me by the few people who loved me.
I left the next day back to Seattle, where I thought everything would be as it was before. I was dead wrong. I became heavily addicted to speed and was repeatedly raped by my first boyfriend's sugar pedophiliac daddy. He had a taste for teenage boys also liked to give them a gift they couldn't return. That gift was AIDS..... (edited for content). I left Seattle and long story short ended up back with my mom 5 months later........
I really wish it all ended there but heroin became my story for about 7 years after all of that and I'm not going into that story because everyone who knows anything about heroin knows the life that comes with it. I became a raging alcoholic after giving up heroin at 23 and got married at 25 to a man almost 20 years older than me in Jersey lived the simple life and no one knew my past until it go way out of control with pill popping and drinking till I couldn't remember anything else. I would wake up hung over crying everyday saying "Never again." "I'm sorry, please forgive me" "I swear I won't drink like that again" only to say the same words the next morning.
That went on and on. Then I went back to Heroin. Decided to mix them all. 6 benzos, 4 bong hits, a pint of Everclear and 10 bags of Heroin. That went on for about a year until one day the Klonopin wasn't working so I took the whole bottle of them Drank an entire pint of Everclear and did about 12 bags of heroin. I finally got to take a good look at myself. I stood there looking at my lifeless body on the floor for what felt like forever. I came back with a jolt. I went to detox the next day and they flew me down To Florida for rehab. I've been clean almost 6 months. I had my first sober birthday since 12 in Detox in Jersey. I am proud to say I spent my 28th year clean so far. Though I'm far from perfect and my life is anything but boring.
So now you know some of my story. (I edited a lot of stuff out. Save it for the book is what I say) I have a lot to say. I hope others will read my future posts.