This is an account of my life. I promise that all this is true. My purpose in this disclosure is in the hopes that whoever reads this will not commit the same mistakes, that no child out there has his/her life altered for the worse or destroyed as mine was.

I was born in 1959 to non English speaking parents. My biological father did not last till my first birthday. I remember living with my grandmother for a couple of years prior to coming to the U.S. When my mother showed up one day and it was off to the states we went. I remember it being just me and her for a little bit, until she brought home her new love. My life sort of changed after that. I remember that my disciplining was swift, stern and sometimes brutal. I started to get the feeling that I was a mistake and that I was not wanted in this new marriage.

Lord knows I tried my best. I got excellent grades, was an avid reader and participated in a lot of after schools activities. I collected comic’s books as most kids did in that day. I was very fond of the Superheroes I read about. One day I donned a towel around my neck (while my mother rested from her third shift job) and wanting to fly, I climbed a cupboard causing it to tilt and fall on me with a crashing boom. My mother awoke, rushed in, surveyed the situation, pulled me out from under the cupboard and loose cannery, and immediately started to beat me.

Through out my childhood I received many more beatings. Some were severe, some were not, some drew blood some did not, but I always waited for the Superheroes to come crashing through the door or walls to save me, they never came. No one ever rescued me.

Still with childish enthusiasm and hope, I tried my best to be loved or lovable. In school I became an over-achiever. I was skipped from grades to better challenge me academically. It was all useless. There was no satisfying them.

I continued to suffer through beatings for the simplest of things. I was constantly called an animal and told that I was shit. That All I was ever to be was “nothing”. I suffered through all of the abuses imaginable. When I say all the abuses I mean ALL. Can you imagine?

My innocence was taken from me. I started to believe what I was being told. I did not and do not hate the people that did this to me. I learned to hate but it was a hate that was directed inwards. I so wanted to please them. Unfortunately I was wrong. There was no pleasing them, other than just disappearing from their lives and the new family that they had made for themselves.

I ran away at the age of fifteen. I just took up with a bunch of other kids who were misfits and unwanted. We would steal to survive. Finally, after a year and I guess because the neighbors were seeing me running wild and throw in the fact that it was embarrassing to my parents, I was brought back. Too late, the damage was done. I was out of control. Nobody loved me and I was already headed to destruction. Once runaway(ed), I have not stopped running. Where were my heroes? Why did none of them come and save me? Do they exist?

I have been told all my adult life that I am too cold. (I wonder why?) That I am  uncaring and detached. Well, let me tell you this. I took all the CPR and first aid classes I could. I have been in the right place at the right time and was lucky enough to have been able to save some lives. I have run into burning buildings, applied the Heimlich on numerous occasions and wrestled a gun away from a would-be killer. I have box loads of awards and commendations. I‘ve had more than the average share of “15 minutes”. I made myself into a hero for those I helped. I have been there for them when it mattered most. Yes, I’m cold and I have learned to hate intensely. Hate drives me. I'm a textbook example. I can’t help who I was made to be. My life was ruined even before it started.

So, I run from my ugly reality. I am Joe Crackhead a.k.a. Azuzu. I seek no pity. My purpose is to be heard while hopefully educating some ill equipped parent(s) out there who do not have a kind word for their child. Addicts are made NOT born. What you do today will bear fruit tomorrow. Please make sure that you are preparing a child for a beautiful life. Do not destroy theirs because you think yours is not up to par. Sure I’m somewhat bitter, but not bitter enough to deny my mother forgiveness. Today I helped her unpack and arrange her living room. After all she is a lot older now and needs a little help now and then. I can forgive her but there are others who will have to make their peace with God. 

Know this; nurturing is essential in a child’s life. Without it a child grows up detached, without empathy or morality. Remember, until your little tykes grow up, you are God to them. Love and treat them well, in turn they will love you and live their life to the healthiest and fullest. Let them think for as long as childhood allows that there is a Santa Claus, Easter Bunny and of course, Superheroes. Let them be happy for what you have given them instead of cursing you for what you take away.