THE GOOD SON from Delve into Twelve

My addiction was ill affording a man of my privilege. Of my parentage.

My drug use was an embarrassment to my mother, an insult to my father, and a distraction to my future. I refused to conform, dropping out of school and leaving the nest to catch up with manhood on my terms. No Ivy League degree, no private practice with Dad after Medical school, no grandchildren for my Mother.

My rebellion was borne of boredom, the boredom coming from such privilege throughout adolescence. I had been able to duck and dart for years, avoiding punishments to my detriment throughout my boyhood. Fostering a sense of entitlement, my father also groomed me to understand I would carry on his legacy, which seemed stifling and unnecessarily selfless. Medical school was contrary to my lack of ambition. I avoided responsibility under the guise of “finding myself.” My father’s illness mandated my return to the riches.

What was my plan? That was a good question.