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Sometimes when I’m alone I am stuck with my reoccurring thoughts of my horrible past. I think maybe I experienced too much in my short life. I’m only 17 years old and I feel like I’ve seen most of the darkness this world has to offer. Then those feelings leek from my eyes and flow down my cheek. Then all there’s left is emptiness. I wanted to share those feelings with those I’m closest to, but really I am too afraid they’d treat me differently if they knew my past. Maybe even question if I’m really all right… So those of you reading this here on reddit, pull up a chair because I’m about to share everything I’ve experienced up until this point that I cannot share openly.
Before I was born June 11th 1998, my dad was a lottery winning bachelor in his mid-30’s. He struggles to control of his schizophrenia talking to people who aren’t there. My mom on the other hand recently divorced, mid-30’s with my half-brother Michael who’s 18 years older than me, and my step-sister Sara who’s 16 years older than me. She on the other hand struggles with her bi-polar disorder and her drinking habits. They met in a bar in my hometown and hit it off from there. Within a year they got married and shortly after I was born. As soon as I was born though we moved out of my hometown 8 hours away into a large 2-story house (2 car garage, outdoor pool and hot tub so pretty large). With money you could imagine how easy it is to get drugs. They both turned to heavy cocaine usage and it was my brother and sister there to take care of me. My brother couldn’t be there all the time though because he was married to his wife and taking care of my oldest niece Jade born only 2 months after myself.
I’m 3 years old now, my parents just sold the house and bought a resort. It was like a campground with 18 cabins lined up in a circle with a large lake behind it to rent boats and go fishing ect. My parents coke addiction made them violent and they would fight a lot. At first though was just yelling but over time they started to throw things and one another breaking shit and eventually just beating each other. This in turn scared off customers and the resort started going downhill. My brother recently had his second kid with his wife my oldest nephew Mike, but due to the constant fighting our mom and dad would get into Michael and his wife started arguing and eventually they split up. Michael straight up disappeared from our lives.
Age 4, it was just my sister Sara and I but that would soon change with her getting into some deep trouble with her boyfriend. She ended up going to prison for 5 years. Now it was only me… alone with my dis-functional doped up parents. I started to cry almost every night asking myself over and over again “why do my parents fight all the time?” “why am I all alone now?”. Eventually things got so heated my dad beat up my mom, went to jail, and my mom sold the resort and we moved.
Age 5, we bought a house about 2 hours from where the resort was, in a city. The house was split up into 3 apartments which we could rent out to people. My mom already getting into trouble getting high and wasted all the time. She hung out with what I could I only understand at the time as her “boyfriends”. She got into those bloody brawls she used get in with my dad with them, she fought with the neighbors and had gotten arrested many times. Moving to a new location was hard enough but trying to find friends with your mom’s reputation looming over your head… The kid’s parent’s in the neighborhood told them to stay away
from me and my house. They eventually alienated and harassed me non-stop. If that weren’t bad enough my mom started to hit me when she got fucked up. I’d go to school with bruises on my body. One day after school when those kids picked on me again, one voice stood up for me. They backed off and left me alone finally. I felt so relieved to find a friend in this dark world. Her name was Crystal, she was 3 years older than me but took me in and protected me from those other kids. From then on I was stuck to her like glue. We did everything together, played basketball, traded Pokémon cards, I slept over at her house many times to get away from my mom. Every day after school I would go and hang out with her. She was my best friend and I was glad to have her around. Hanging out with her though I got to see the ugly side of her life, her father. He was a drunk, 60oz bottles littered his living room floor and he slept a lot. Though when he was awake he was so cruel to her. He hit her so hard the tears flew off her face. It made me so mad to so her like that but being so young and helpless I couldn’t do anything about it except stay by her side and comfort her. I realized why she had stood up for me and protected me. We were the same, just two lost beings in a dark cruel world.
Age 6, my brother moved in with us at the apartment upstairs of the house. I was so happy to see him again. He was with another girl named Kristen. She seemed a lot nicer than the other girl my brother was with long ago. My brother was back in my life again and I never left him alone, he didn’t mind it though. I visited him and Kristen every day along with seeing Crystal. My mom stopped hitting me as much because Mike and Kristen were there to protect me. I had another place to go even if it meant just going above where the shit was happening. He’d help me with homework made sure I was well taken care of. It’s the reason why I look up to him today for guidance, even if we don’t see eye to eye sometimes I still get something out of him. I felt so lucky I was able to have them around to guide me at the time or I probably would’ve had ended up way differently than I am today. They don’t know how much they mean to me.
Age 7, my mom was jailed again and this time for a while. Mike and Kristen were moving back to Kristen’s home town and brought me along. I said goodbye to Crystal and we head off, packed my things, and once again I’d be moving. It was the longest car ride I’d ever been on. The landscape eventually changed to pined forests and rocky hills. Finally, we were somewhere totally new, there were a lot more cars and this city was based on one giant hill. We arrived at Kristen’s parents. The house was packed with her large family. Her mom and dad, her sister and her two brothers that were around my age. The house got even more packed with us making 8. They welcomed us with a party at a bowling alley, and so many people came to greet us. I felt at home the moment I got there. Christmas came by in a flash and we were pretty much buried in snow. More months went by, they showed me how to ride public transit, and eventually the three of us moved out of Kristen’s parents. Mike and Kristen had a place of their own again and I was right there with them. Some more months went by and my grandparents on my dad’s side came and visited. More months went by and I started to feel weird. I missed my mom, I don’t know why but I guess I was just so attached to her. That summer on my 8th birthday my mom came and picked me up.
Age 8, I lived with my mom again and I realized the mistake I made, the house smelled of crack and peppermint schnapps, she was still the same and went right on back to beating me. I was in hell again… “why did I come back?” “did I think she was going to change?” It didn’t matter now anyways; I was already here. I got to see Crystal again, I realized how much I’ve missed her and soon enough we started to hang out all the time again. Things were still the same with her dad, but she knew how to stand up to him and didn’t let him hurt her anymore. I noticed there was another kid who moved to the neighborhood so I went over and introduced myself to him. His name was Drake, eventually I introduced him to Crystal and we became good friends. Around the beginning of the school year turns out some of the kids made fun of Drake because of his last name, “Faulker” being similar to “Fucker”. At the bus stop the kids were going at him calling him Drake “Fucker”. Drake was really quiet, it was the first time I seen someone else get bullied. Now these kids were a year or two older than us so it was intimidating standing up to them, I was hesitating at first but I remember the kindness Crystal shown me standing up for me a long time ago. So I’d turned to them and said “Leave him alone”. These kids didn’t take to kindly to me standing up for him. They tried to grab me and something just snapped, I threw the bigger one over my back and he hit the ground hard and I tackled the other one to the ground. I hit him in the gut and got up and kicked the other one on the ground in the stomach. I was shaking as they started to get up eyeing me, right as the bus turned the corner and they stopped right away. From that day on they stopped picking on Drake.
Age 9, summer break from school one night there was a grease fire in our kitchen, everything was ruined in the kitchen and they had to fix it up. So until then we couldn’t be in our house. We stayed at one of my mom’s boyfriends house. I felt so uneasy there being so far away from Crystal and Drake, nowhere to go in case something happens with my mom (something always happens). Later the week one night I awoke to the screams of my mom, she ran into the living room naked where I was sleeping and fell over the coffee table, there was that guy over her. He started beating her face over and over until it was bloody and bruised and then even more. I threw the blanket over my head, but I could still hear her crying. I couldn’t stop shaking. Then I heard him walk out. I hear my mom’s muffled crying. I can tell she was face down on the carpet. I was still shaking, I could not stop, then I feel my face heat up and I could feel my emotions roll down my face once more leaving my puffed up eyes. Now there is emptiness inside me, these thoughts kept ringing through my head “I HATE MY LIFE” over and over again. I didn’t sleep, I didn’t pull the covers off my head, I… just… sat there.
Age 10, my mom had her same routine, get fucked up, fight, and hit me. I’d go to school with bruises on me still. My life was still the same. I awoke again at night to hear my mom yelling and things being thrown, usually I would either hide under my bed, or if I was feeling brave enough I would walk over to Crystals house to spend the night. Well, being a curious 10 year-old I peeked to where the fighting was and I saw a broomstick in hand, the yelling got loader then…” CRACK” she broke the broom handle over his head and the guy was out cold. The side of his face rested in his own pool of blood surrounding his head. Mom leaned against the wall and began to sob into her arms. I just look at the guy on the floor which seemed to be forever. Then he finally woke up and called the police, mom was taken away in a squad car and the guy gone in an ambulance. I ended spending the night at Crystal’s but this time seemed to be the last. Someone knocking on her door the following morning turned out to be my grandma Marilyn (mom’s side) we went back to my house and packed my things and I left with her. It was a short drive only about 2 hours, when we arrived to her house I just collapse and slept for the rest of the day. New area means new school district which also means I need to make new friends again. I didn’t bother though, I thought I would end up moving again anyways. It was ok though my grandparents kept me busy, they had a GameCube and I had my Gameboy advance so I was preoccupied for the most part. I ended up being right and it was only about 1-2 months later my dad and my grandpa Fraser (dad’s side) picked me up. I was sad to leave so soon, we packed my things and leaving was hard. The drive was a lot longer much like the one to Kristen’s parent’s house, but I slept most of the way. There was a lot of snow where we were going, surrounded by lush forests all around. We arrived late at night, and I was snowing. My dad took me for a walk away from the house to his friends and introduced me. I think he was happy for me to be there and couldn’t wait to show me off. It was a quick visit and we head back to my grandparents.
Ages 11-13, Just like with Kristen’s family I was welcomed in right away, we attended family gatherings, made lots of friends, got into orchestra and played at concerts, my dad and I finally moved out of my grandparents and got a place to ourselves, I got to see my brother Mike and his growing family every year (brought the count up to 2 nieces and 4 nephews). I was happy. I felt so involved in the world and people’s lives. I grew close with my grandparents, seeing them whenever I could, knowing they always had my back.
Age 14, started off the school year best I could, I always had good grades, and I loved knowing I was making my dad and my grandparents proud. Months into 2011 a type of dementia known as Lewy Body start to take control of my grandpa Fraser’s body and mind. After a while he couldn’t walk anymore and I knew he was starting to go. I stayed up at night thinking about my life without him around and would start to often cry myself to sleep. All I could think of is to spend as much time as possible with him, so I quit orchestra and started going over to see him. I stayed up late at night worrying so I was falling asleep at school, my grades dropped and soon I didn’t care about that anymore. I barely passed in 2011 before summer break. I would head over to their house whenever I could though I started to see that greater decline in his health. The school year started and at this point he was lying in a hospital bed in his living room. He started forget things, then he could barely move, eventually barely eat or talk. I came over every day at that point asking him if he still remember me and he would slightly nod his head. October 10th 2011 he passed away in his living room surrounded by his friends and his wife Janice, my grandmother. I remember that phone call when he held it to hear ear my dad looked at me and burst into tears and I knew. Next couple of days I didn’t show anything at all. The 14th was his service day and when I got to the funeral home I sat in one of the chairs and slept until the service. During the service they ask if anyone wanted to come up and say anything. Everybody was nervous including myself, but I raised my hand first and went up. I had it written on a piece of paper. It was a couple of good memories I have had with him. Halfway through I felt my face get hot and the tears came out, I couldn’t help it… It’s been a little over 4 years now, and I miss him so much. My grandma was a mess afterwards and I spent so much time trying to bring her back to the world comforting her… She came back to the world and I slowly slipped on out.
After all the shit I’ve been through to that point when Fraser died I broke…
Age 15, I didn’t care about school anymore, I stopped going. I didn’t talk to my friends anymore and I spent my time sleeping, hiding away from everything, I was done. My dad wasn’t going to stand me not going though he yelled at me every day giving me hell, not only him but my grandma as well. I felt like shit every day. Started to go to therapy, that didn’t help, prescribed anti-depressants but there’s only so much medicine can help with. Then truancy got on me, and then I just felt even worse. I couldn’t take it anymore, my head hurt almost all the time, I slept 12-14 hours a day (still do most of the time) Every day I just wanted to die. Every day I would get yelled at. Every time I would go to school people ask where do I go? Teachers make sure everyone in the class knows I’m failing. Sometimes I would skip class to cry in the bathroom. I hate going to family gatherings, just a reminder “how’s school going” I’d feel obligated to lie to their face, instead of having to say “I’m a failure”. Sleepless nights I would get laughed at for sleeping in class. Just putting on the “fake smile” everybody knows and loves so people don’t think you’re weird.
Age 16, Truancy eventually gave up, saying “He wasn’t a bad kid he just doesn’t want to go to school” My grandma gave up on me finally but my dad would just yell his lungs out at me saying how much of failure I was and I was being a pussy for not going. My chest started hurting after that. Now my dad was picking on me. The thought’s chimed once more “I HATE MY LIFE” and I just hid beneath my covers. When I barely scraped by and passed into the summer from school the weight sorta lifted. After all these years my sister wanted to see my brother and his family and me. I thought to myself “finally something good” We drove down south, my brother’s family was moving down next to her and I was coming along for the ride. Our mom was down there as well and I hoped It would be all good. Well I was so wrong. Our sister and our mom were arguing at the time and weren’t on good terms. I was going to stay at our mom’s place while we are there. My sister’s husband put this idea in her head saying because staying over there meant I was choosing a side, she disowned me as a brother and I haven’t spoken to her since. Though the thing that’s fucked is she and our mom made up with each other and she kicked me out of her life. When she said that to me once again the words pulsed harder in my head “I HATE MY LIFE”. For the rest of the time there I did nothing but sleep. You see sleep is my only friend I feel like.
Age 17 my dad finally stopped giving me hell, I didn’t go this year to school. Once my dad stopped my grandma started giving me hell asking me why I didn’t go. I killed me inside when she calls me out about school whenever I see her. Skipping ahead my brother and his family are going to the east coast for the summer. Just for a week and I think what could go wrong. When we went everything went wrong. We took a 2000$ suburban cross-country to the east coast. We got to the campground and set up, that night we get hit by a tropical storm and the tent almost collapses from the rain and a tree falls over right next to us. The next day we want to go to Savannah but the keys are missing. The whole day we look for them and right before we go to bed Mike finds them. We go to Savannah and we get rained out by another tropical storm 30 minutes after we arrive. The next day we’re all burnt and pissed and we go to the ocean and get even more burnt. Then we pack up and leave and on our way back we get hit by another big storm to the point people have to put their blinkers on for others to see. Transmission blows right in the middle of that freeway in the storm. We sell the suburban for megabus tickets, We’re heading north and the ac is stuck on low so it got cold as hell. The kids were sick on the busride and we arrive at Chicago for our transfer and our bus was 2 hours late for the transfer so we have to sit on the side of street in downtown Chicago for 8 hours. That wasn’t what hurt me though. Kristen and I went to get lunch for everyone and we come back with the food and we got Mike the wrong food item and we all snapped on each other. Ever since then I think my brother secretly hates me because we’d get into fights over the phone over stupid shit. I don’t want my other sibling to exclude me from their life… We gotten into a really heated fight recently on the phone and I couldn’t handle it and burst into tears. If he hates me I wish he would just tell me already. The thoughts still ring in my mind “I HATE MY LIFE”
In a world of darkness, we look for something brighter than ourselves. My lights are burning out one by one it seems like. Pretty soon I’m going get left alone in the dark.
You can write about anything that is important to you – your whole life, personal trauma or events that have affected you in the past.Share Your Story
My entire life I have identified as bisexual. I feared being heterosexual or homosexual alone, as I felt free and liberated in the thought that I found both genders attractive. With that, I have had feelings for people of my gender and the opposite gender.
Now I don't know anymore. I often think of females when I touch myself. On the other hand, the mate of my dreams I imagine as male.
I hate my life. I'm interested in a lot of things but I don't have any genuine expertise in any topics or skills. Embarassingly, in an honest self assessment I would probably consider myself "brilliant". I have a shallow familiarity with a wide range of topics, so it's likely I confuse this wordliness with some sort of creative ability.
I have unenforceable commitments...