After not speaking to my Mom for years, I ended up moving to Atlanta for some of my 10th grade year. It was not shortly after she kicked me out and I moved in with a girlfriend and her parents. My Dad was not interested in me returning to Greenville, and my Mom and I were in a bad place having had a real deal physical fight. She told me if she had a baseball bat “she would bash my fucking brains in.” 


I started school in Roswell, Ga and made friends fast, the old fashioned way. Partying, shoplifting, and using my sexuality for attention. I was finally becoming sexy, and girls wanted to be my friend. It wasn’t shortly after I turned on my bestie roomie, for a new and improved version bestie, which introduced me to two guys who took us out one night and left his 9MM in the back seat of her car. She was so terrified, I told her I would take it and hide it. I had no idea what to do with it so when I returned home to my girlfriends house, I hid it in a backgammon game in what I thought was a junk closet.

The next day after school my Dad was there.

My girlfriends little sister found the gun while playing in the closet. It was loaded. It was a miracle she did not kill herself. I was obviously kicked out and on my way back to South Carolina with my heartbroken father. I could not explain enough to him that this was not mine, and I didn’t know what to do with it, and what a terrible mistake this was etc., but he nor my girlfriends parents wanted to hear a single word from me ever again. I never talked to them again and it took a long time before my Dad was speaking to me again also.

As a single parent today, even recollecting these stories gives me great pain. I can not imagine what I put him through. Not at all. I understand now why he had a prescription for Xanax. He said it was for flying.  I wonder if that were true. 

I truly can not believe he didn’t have a heart attack thanks to me. Though he is in heaven now, I still apologize to him for these things and more, and spent the balance of his life doing just that until the passed away. I’m so sorry, Dad.

I continue.


Author: jtreska

My name is Julie Treska. I am a 39 year old maniac, mother of 2, step-mother of 2, and wife, to one amazing husband, Micah. I am a sister, a friend, an acquaintance, a colleague, a neighbor... possibly an enemy, a threat, an ex, but one thing I am known for is being 100% real. This is one more of many blogs I've written in my life. Maybe one that I'll keep. It's going to be one giant cluster fuck, of what makes me, me. I am a divorcee', a parent, a woman, a cancer survivor, a divorce survivor, a survivor of many, many things. I am a cook, a writer, a motivational speaker, a pain in the ass, and an inspiration. I am career driven and successful. I am a one percenter, but run out of money every two weeks. I am funny, I am honest, I am raw, and unapologetic. I hope I am able to relate to many, entertain some, and envy a few. I am a bad ass in most everything I do.

6 thoughts on “Atlanta”

  1. Julie,
    I’ve been reading your blog since you started writing it and I love it! I can’t wait for your next post everyday. I only wish you could type faster. I think about you often, have seen how beautiful your family is, and what a great mommy you’ve become. I’m so proud of you. Thank you for sharing your story. It’s beautiful, mostly. 😉
    Love, Chrissy.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes! Based on this blog entry, I kinda thought you’d figure that out quicker! Lol! 😜 I love your blog!! 💋 You are so gorge, and so are the kids!!!!


      2. You’re gonna make me cry right now! Spam gets really clever on these blogs and I get comments from people who are robots all the time!!!! I couldn’t quite tell but now that I saw your Instagram request my heart is pounding!


  2. I love your blog! I loved your friendship and am grateful to have been a part of your journey! I’m so happy for you; you’ve created beautiful children and are a beautiful person!! Keep writing! You’re so good at it!

    Liked by 1 person

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