Finding Myself

Cynthia Brown

Description

Shay remained in Cancun, New Mexico ,going back into her nursing career and working with people that had mental problems. Soon she joined a local church, met and married the pastor, who introduced her to another side of life and embarked on a spiritual journey that brought her joy, peace and love.

Sujets

• Cindy Brown
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris US
• Date de parution: 30 décembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669858898
• Langue: English

Extrait

Finding Myself










Cynthia Brown







Copyright © 2023 by Cynthia Brown.

ISBN:
Softcover
978-1-6698-5890-4
eBook
978-1-6698-5889-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.




Rev. date: 12/09/2022




Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
848640



Contents
Introduction

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12



INTRODUCTION
F IRST I WOULD Like to delicate this book to the man I love, Lewis Brown, my mom, my late sister Denise Seymore, my children and my family. I wrote this book in hopes of bringing awareness to people who suffer from mental Illness. The story is pure fiction the characters don’t exist in real life. But unlike the story in real life, there are a estimated 2.8 million people in the United States alone aged 18 and older who suffer from the disease that doctors call schizophrenia, while an estimated 40 percent of individuals with the condition go untreated. And sadly a estimated 4.9% of people with schizophrenia die by suicide.



CHAPTER 1
W HEN I WOKE up that morning the sun was shining brightly through my window. It seemed like the sun was the only thing that was shining brightly because my soul felt dark and disturped. There was an unsettling feeling inside of me, who was it? The question haunted me everyday, who was I, where in this life did I belong? I was a 33 year old African American woman, well educated, successful in my life. I was married to a clean, cut, handsome creamy chocolate doctor who seemed to adore me. I lived in a large expensive house that was one step away from a mansion. I wasn’t a pretty woman, just a average plain jane, my nose was to big, my lips, to thin, but my large black eyes, wavy long black hair and small petite, five foot two inch stacked body made up for where my face was lacking in looks. I stayed home and enjoyed my husband’s money that he freely gave me, not really being concerned about the fact that he was always working late, or away at some conference. I was content staying home and having my two friends over and going shopping, or out clubbing, that was my life. But i knew that something was not there, something or someone was missing. We were childless, I was barren, but that was ok with me. I didn’t want some crying, snot nosed brat hanging on to me. In my mind i was too good for a whining kid or a person around me that I had to take care of, or give my time, money or share what little attention and love that i got from my husband. I was born and raised in the slums of Philadelphia, pa, A place I really did;nt want to think about. My mother raised me and my older brother by herself our father left her when i turned five years old. Something she never let me forget, if it wasn’t for you she would yell at me my Kenny would still be here. But truth be told he left her for a rich white woman who could take care of him, that’s what my brother would say as he wiped the tears from my eyes. Soon she turned into a heroin addict following behind her new found boyfriend who turned her out, leaving me and Kenny my brother to take care of ourselves. I was twelve at the time and Kenny my brother was sixteen. Kenny did what he could to feed us, working odd jobs here and there, cutting grass, shoveling snow, washing cars whatever he could find, even stealing. He made sure i stayed in school, after i finished high school Kenny gave me his life savings along with my scholarship to attend college. I finished college and went to work as a registered nurse at a local hospital where i met and married doctor Alan Smith. Kenny didn’t go to college but he landed a good job as a construction worker, he met and married a beautiful hispanic woman and had two children, a boy and a girl. He moved his family to Virginia vowing that his kids would never be raised in the inner city, but out where the the grass is green and the air is fresh. As for our dear mother she was still in the slums of Philadelphia doing whatever she could for a fix, refusing Kennedys help or offer to move to virginia with him, as for me i cared less about her she could rot away and curl up and die as far as i was concerned. I still lived in Pennsylvania, but i lived in bucks county in my own world that i thought was so perfect, with my nose stuck in the air. I didn’t even speak unless you looked well off or extremely rich. Ceasing from my thoughts I pushed the covers back and got out of bed, realizing that my husband did not come home last night. After sitting up I reached over and picked my iphone up and checked my messages, there was one from Alan, sorry hon it simply said working overnight. I threw my phone on my bed and stood up, he seemed to always be working late or overnite. A single tear felt from my eye, I realized i had all i wanted but yet i was lonely and sad. who am i, i yelled into my beautiful, yet empty house. I walked out my bedroom and went down my curvy winding stair way and went to our well stacked bar and picked up a bottle of vodka and poured a shot and drunk it, then another until i felt tippy and some of the pain was numbed. I sat on my couch and stared at the wall. You kool i heard a unknown voice say, enjoy yourself, spend his money, drink, party and just have fun. I gave into the voice and got up, when back upstairs and showered and got dressed in short red skirt and a tight low cut black blouse, fixing my hair up and piling on my makeup. I slipped on a pair of red heels, and reached for my phone. I dialed Candy my best friend and asked her to come go to the bar with me for a drink. Seriously Shay she said after yawning it’s just 12 noon. So what i snapped at her, the bar is open and i am dressed and ready. just go on she said, i am still sleeping, i will catch you later. Oh i said you sure that bum you call a boyfriend not there stealing my time. Candy laughed, grow up Shay she said and hung up. Grow up i yelled i am grown, forget her i said and left my house got in my red porsche and drove to the neighborhood bar. Arriving at the bar, i parked my car got out and went inside. The bar was empty except for a older gentlemen and a woman who looked about twenty three years old and of course Micheal the bartender. Hey beautiful Micheal said as i walked up to the bar and took a seat, you here early. Yea i said, i need a drink and some of your good conversation. Is that so he said and looked at me, problems on the home front. I looked curiously at him, why you asked that? He smiled showing his deep dimples and even white teeth. Just curious he said as he poured vodka in a small shot glass and handed it to me. I looked into his clear blue eyes, and studied his rugged handsome ivory colored face. How you know i want vodka i said and why you assume i got marriage problems? Because he said and poured himself a drink, you always order vodka and you’re here earlier than usual, so where’s the old hubby, shouldn’t you be home fixing him lunch or something? He is a doctor. I said and downed my drink, he’s working, healing somebody or giving out pills I said as I handed him my glass for a refill. You sure you need another drink he said as he hesitated to pour my drink. What are you? I hurled the insult at him, a bartender or a pathetic want to be psychiatrist? Ouch you got a nasty attitude today he said as he poured my drink, i was just concerned about you.