I was born into nothing, in this world full of shit September 20, 1981. My family at that time consisted of my mom, dad, and my older brother. Then sometime between my birth and when I actually can remember shit my dad took off on us all. I lived with my mom and her series of shithead boyfriends.
First came Aaron. He was a totally dickbag from the very beginning. I would almost religiously get my ass kicked by him. This went on from day to day for quite some time. My brother was luckier. He went down to Missouri for a time to stay with uncles. While he was down there I got all of the abuse. One particular incident that stands out to this day was this:
My mom decided to grill out, I was left outside to watch the food and make sure it didn't burn whilst she was inside with Aaron. Then our asshole neighbor came out on the porch and seen what we were cooking. He decided that me being a scrawny little kid wouldn't be able to stop him from taking it, boy was he right. Well he took all the stuff we had cooking while i was yelling through the door trying to get my mom to come out and do something. Then about ten minutes went by they (being my mom and Aaron) came out. They seen that there was no food on the grill anymore and blamed me. Of course I told the tale of what happened but since I couldn't prove it I had to be lying right. So my mom went off to the store to get something else to cook and left me with dickface. He was pissed off and I knew I was going to get it. He set the spatula we were using on the grill and left it there for a bit while he smoked. I'm sure he was just giving me a false sense of security that I would come out fine, but then out of nowhere he grabbed it up and smacked me in the side of the head with it. It fucking burned like hell. I still have faint marks on my head from it if I actually shave my hair off.
Then a while went by where he
started to be more of a jerk to my mom too. One day I don't remember what exactly set me
off but I tried to stab him with a butter knife. To be honest I was just going to wound
not kill. I wanted even at that young age to make people suffer and live with it for the
rest of their lives. Well my mom figured I had lost my mind and in a way I can agree with her. She
should of realized though that it was more that I was trying to protect myself and her
from this asshole. Instead she took me down to a mental facility and lied to them. Saying
I was suicidal and was trying to kill myself. I wasn't even trying to kill her bf let
alone myself. Anyway they bought it and admitted me. I was there for damn near 3 months
before they finally listened to me and let me out. Then back to my world of hell and
torment I went.
Things at this point get really confused for me as I was forced to take medications for mental illnesses I did not have. I'm not sure in what order things happened but I do know that they did. There was another instance of me being forced into the mental hospital after my mom caught me smashing a mirror with a hammer. She thought I was doing it because it was reflecting me and again thought I hated myself. Wrong. I just really enjoy the sound of breaking glass and i figured that a mirror was better then a window. Well off to nut ward I went this time she took my brother there too. Come to find out later that it was all a ploy to get away from us so she could run off to Missouri without us. Anyway, I got out about three months later again. Things got relatively calm after that up until I started middle school. After about a week went by my mom sat down to talk with me about school. I told her very nonchalantly that I would rather be dead then go back there. I hated central. It sucked dick. She thought I was serious and again took me to the nut ward.
This time though it
was different. Whilst I was incarcerated my mom and Aaron got into a fight. She left him
for Brian. The moved out of the apartment we were in to Brian's brother's basement. So I
wasn't allowed to come home. I got put into a foster home with this crazy old bag that
was supper Christian. I was forced to go to church every Sunday. They tried to force
me to participate in Sunday school but I didn't care. I got hit with a ruler one day for
telling the teacher I didn't believe in their made up god and that I refused to do their
work because it wasn't going to help me in life at all. I had planned out an escape from
the house and the day I tried to leave I got busted by a sheriff that lived by
her. She told them that she didn't want me there anymore and I was removed from her
house. Since I wasn't allowed home at the time they placed me into a group home for
troubled children and teens. While I was there I was forced to take medications again for
shit I didn't have wrong with me.
I refused most of the
time to take my medications, I was constantly in trouble while I was there for that. None
of the staff would listen to me at all and just assumed I was insane. Eventually though I
got someone to listen and they started to advocate for me and I got into less
trouble. Eventually I was released back to my mom once she got a new apartment and I went
back home. Life wasn't so bad for a time. I went to school, I hung out with friends. I
tried to start up a few relationships with some girls but everytime I was shut down. I
actually felt pretty good about myself though so I'm fine with all that. Then I turned
18. My life flipped upside down. Brian being one of them old school assholes that believe
once your 18 you shouldn't be living with your mom anymore decided that even though I was
still in high school I should be trying to find my own place to live. I'm not sure what
started it all but he took off on my mom and moved out to my grandparents house. After a
short time she decided she wanted him back and started to stay out there too. She kept
the apartment in town for a while and I stayed there. This started alot of parties. The
time I was left alone in that apartment ruled. I met alot of cool people then and still
to this day talk to alot of
them.
I had many
friends at the time due to being such a bad ass then. I looked to a lot of my friends
more like they were family. Sean and Rob especially. I was forced to move out of the
apartment and into my grandparents with my mom. I hated living out there. I tried to not
be home as much as possible because I didn't feel safe or welcome even in my own home.
This is rounds about the time I graduated. My mom let me have a year to think about what
I wanted to do after school. I spent most of the time hanging out with friends. I even
stayed with Sean and his parents for quite some time. Then I left and went back home.
Then got a job working at a group home. It was strange to be in that position after I was
on the other side of it. Most days after work I just went home and talked online with my
girlfriend at the time. Whom I later found out was lying about her age and fucking
cheating on me to boot. So I started hanging out with other people more and started going
to friend's house's after work. I also tried to spark up a relationship with someone whom
I later found to be a much better friend then anything else and I still to this day thank
her every time we speak.
One
night after I got out of work at midnight, I went to my friends house for a bit. I
decided after a couple hours it was getting late so I headed home. Brian was waiting in
the garage drunk for me. When I pulled up I turned the lights off and was sitting in the
car listening to something. He ripped open the door and grabbed me before I even knew
what happened. I finally realized who it was as he was slamming my face into the hood. I
got him off me and we yelled back and forth for a bit. Then I said fuck it if you want to
fight lets fight. Cause fuck him thats why. I pulled out my knife and threw it across the
yard so no one would get hurt with it cause I wanted it to be fair. As I watched for
where it landed he jumped on me. Caught me off guard and knocked me down. He started
choking me and yelling in my face that he was going to kill me. It came down to the point
where I was pretty sure he would to. Then I thought if he does kill me whats to stop him
from going in and killing my mom too. So I snapped and started punching upwards, catching
him in the face a few times. He got off me and I punched him one more time in the side of
the head and broke my hand at some point during that fight. I tried to pull out the
horseshoe stake in our yard cause I was going to beat him with it when my mom woke up and
called the cops.
The cops show
up and for some reason believe the raving drunk guy over me and decided to let him stay
and take me instead. I thought they were arresting me but it turns out they were just
taking me back to my friends house. I show up covered in Brian's blood. Everyone looked
at me like I just killed someone. I never felt so awesome in my life. After that
incident when I returned home Brian didn't really try to do much to me again. I
think he got the point that I wasn't going to take his shit
anymore.
Then I met Beth, I moved out of state and abandoned my life here for the promise of
a better one. It turned out not to be much better. We had a child while we were living
in Washington. CPS took him away from us before we even left the hospital. They
wouldn't let us have him because she was "crazy" and they didn't have any information on
me. We had to fight for 6 months to get him back. We finally did and life was decent for
a time. Then I started to resent her because I missed all my friends. I missed being
here. I was someone while I was here out there in Washington I was nobody. I
hated that. So we came back.
The only place we had to go was with my mom. That really sucked cause Brian was
still an asshole and now my mom was more week willed then a worm. She stuck up for
everything he said and did and always took his side. She even at one point tried to get
our son taken from us so she could get him and run away to Texas. I over heard this in a
phone conversation she had while she thought we were sleeping. Any way we eventually got
our own place and left. That was when I decided that if she wanted to see me or my child
she would have to do it on my terms. No one else's. She didn't like the fact that I
said if she wanted to see him she would have to come to my house. Alone. I didn't like
Brian anymore and I don't own him shit. Well life kept going and eventually I found out
that mom died one night. No one has to this day came out and said it but I'm sure someone
in my family blames me for it. Well fuck them and fuck that. I don't care what anyone
thinks. I lost my mom because of drugs and alcohol. Thats what it boils down too. She
might have been depressed because of it but it's not my fault she didn't come over and
see the kids at my house.
Now I live in a post mother world and I have almost no ties to actual family at
all. CPS yet again came in and took my children. This time apparently due to
the fact that I play video games, swear, and don't clean as often as they think I should
be. I'm being forced into counseling with a Therapist that doesn't know shit about
how to deal with people. And yet again I'm having my life dictated to me by someone else.
This is about the point that I'm at right now in my life so I'll stop and update this
shit further when more stuff happens. This is who I am and this is what my life was like.
This is why I'm the way I am and why I'm such a bad ass mother fucker. I've dealt with
shit my whole life that no one should have to deal with even once. And you know what I
persu-fucking-vered.