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Topic: this is not going to be pretty, i need mental support< Next Oldest | Next Newest >
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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 07 2002,06:03  Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

Amazing how the smallest events can have the biggest impact on your life...

I'm sitting here and my mom and her boyfriend are in the process of breaking
up. looks terminal, like those terrain avoidance systems on a 747 *wh00p
wh00p wh00p* pull up! pull up! but the pilot is dead.

wait, back up a while.

Life story time.

I never really had a stable father figure, mine was a drinker. I was born in
'84, my father was somewhere in the Med, on a navy sub tender. my parents had
another child in '85, my sister. We were mil brats, my mom was an engineer,
she was in the seabees, we lived in Nebraska until I was 4.

We moved to Washington when I was 4, because my father was transferred to the
recruitment division (due to alcoholism). my parents were transferred to
Bremerton Shipyard. my mom left the navy about a year after that, and got a
good job in King County (seattle) doing construction. she's a civil engineer.
My father became an apartment mantenance guy, and was prety good at it. we
moved twice, then, around 12, my father was terminated from where he worked
and where we lived (a stable, comfortable postion).

It was raining. We moved to the ghetto.

Tacoma, Washington. the apartment complex was in disarray, my father got the
job 15 minutes after he was fired. the lady under us was a welfare rat. she
would fuck a male snake if someone held it down, or not, just to stay on
welfare. oddly enough, her kids dressed beter than we did. the lady above us
was a pothead astrologist/lesbian. she was the only person who I considered
to not be lame, or ghetto. our family's friends were the Russels. The man of
the house was a 6' 9", 350 lb redneck, who carried a gun. a stainless Colt
.45, if I'm not mistaken. he owned like, 15 rifles, including a pre-ban full
auto AK-47. He taught me how to shoot. he was also cool. They had two kids,
Brandon and Eric. We, my sister, brandon, eric and I were the only children
who were not the welfare children.

First day of school: my birthday. Oct. 24. A complete surprise. I had never
been physically threatened by another before. and I was a white, 80lb
dripping wet, prep. the average child there carried some form of a weapon,
most had knives. the teachers were fearful of some of the students. the one
that had those thug children carried mace. they grouped them into one class.
I was lucky not to get in that one.

This shit is not supposed to fucking happen. not to me.

A thug walked up to me at recess, and said: gimme your lunch money, or I'll
stab your ass.
what I said to him: no. I haven't got any, anyway.
he pulled out the knife. I was lucky enough to have a supervisor see him.
I ran my ass off. he got kicked out.
I got home, and I sat in my room. the thought Du Jour was: why me.

A year later, I was letting a little unintelligble voice in the back of my
head, voice it's thoughts. That voice was suicide. Suicide and I had many
conversations. mostly, he wanted me to kill myself. if he wasn't telling me
that, he was giving me reasons why I should. It got to the point that I
attempted to at school, in the middle of recess. one of the thugs was showing
his friends his new knife, I walked up and calmly asked him to slice my
wrists open, if he had the balls to do it. now, when someone like me, walks
up to someone like that, the supervisors get antsy. one overheard my
question, and brought me to the office. where I promptly had a mental
breakdowm. I was taken to a psychologist, and she daignosed me with suicidal
tendancies, and ADHD. she gave me pills. suicide had finally shut the fuck
up. just in time, too, I damn near jumped out my window that day, after
school (2nd story apt. concrete below.) when I got back to school, people
were teasing me. people hear these things quickly. I turned around, and
popped one in the jaw. split his lip, and knocked out a tooth. guess that
thug'll be getting a gold filling like all the rappers got.

office. blame the medication. doctor adjusts dosage. people stop teasing. I
wonder why...

A year later. pop's fired again. Go to Camp Thunderbird. A boy scout camp.
oh, goodie, outdoors, nature and shit. good for my "mental Health outlook" or
some bullshit. guns, sharp rocks, bows and arrows, water for drowning, cliffs
for suicide falls, knives for wrists. medication stops, shrink retires. I'm
doing well enough.

no incidents. Parents move to a house while I'm gone. Spanaway, Washington.
less ghetto. Methamphetamine capital of the state. at least there isn't a
drive-by shooting every day/week. Pop doesn't find work soon. I go to
elementary there, then JHS. same as Tacoma. move self to alt school after
third and final assault and battery, messing up my teeth by ramming head into
wall, and chipping two front teeth. 4 years pass. pop, still unemployed,
starts getting flaky: "they" he said "are after me."

Whafuck?

a year passes. Pop finally does a gram of meth, as it turns out.

saint patricks Day. he pulls us out of school, checks into hospital, says on
the way there: "there's a camera in my car's radio..." I don't see it, but
who cares. he thinks the government can't arrest someone in a hospital...
disassembles his cell phone's battery, looking for bugs. he has gotten so
fucking flaky over the past year, that he thinks the neighbors are having sex
in their window, and watching him. sure. right.

dragged out strapped to a stretcher, screaming, ranting, and raving. painful
sight for me. they stick him with a sedative, and he shuts up. into the
ambulance. off to Tacoma Mental Hospital. family friends pick us up. pop goes
to detox, they can't hold him. too violent, not enough room. he gets
released. still fuct up. mom seperates from him.

He checks into an anonymous program. housing by his sponsor. mom is dating
Mike. a mexican man. my sister says he looks like a monkey. he does. they are
happy. my sister is not. they are fucking when we are at school. we don't
even see him. Did I mention that my dad was fucking skank addict sluts when
we were at school. and sometimes when I wasn't? oh. well, I just did.

Dad comes home one day, to see us, takes a leak in the master bedroom toilet,
sees a condom in the trash can (jesus, don't you know that you can flush
them?!?) filled with wigglies. confronts mom, still holding said rubber.
infront of me and sis. sis is traumatized. I still, to this day, do not eat
anything he cooks. Mom says that she is seeing this guy. dad gets high and
mighty. I lower his pulpit by about 3 feet, by telling the nasty secret that
I had found one day. mom&dad call for divorce.

6 months later, Mike moves in. Sis never gave him a chance. he was doomed
from the beginning. He didn't see this, he should've, but didn't. My grades
tank. I fail school. a 6 more months. the rift widens. sis likes dad more
than mom. I am indifferent. I like the computer more than any of my
disfunctional family members. or is I who is dysfunctional. no matter, a fine
differnce, that doesn't matter. Back to therapy. more meds. whoa, what the
blue fuck?!? the old meds, that the doc re-prescribed, cause me to become
more agressive.

oops.

Zoloft. "Rusults not tested for under 18." I am 16. mmhmm. makes me feel
right confident, that. I am normally a low bloodpressure person. I get
hypotension. I pass out if I stand up. I do this three times. the room spins,
I puke. I weigh 110 lbs. not a good thing, when I get dehydrated.

Doctor's office. no meds. therapy, instead. sends me to a shrink. Waste of
time. I can't begin to convey how fucked up my live is/was. no
recomendations, venting to him didn't help because I had to pick and choose
my words carefully, paper thin walls.

a voice called "sanity" gained a foothold on the beach of my mind like the
Allies did in D day.

time passes.

High school. sis hates Mike, Mike hates sis. I still don't give a sweet shit.
fail first smester of soph year, after finalization of breakup. move to real
HS.

---------------
Pay attention now, damn it. we come to the meat of the story. and Why I
titled this story as so.
---------------

We come to yesterday. Soda can gets knocked off railing by Mike, he fels he
shouldn't clean it up. he didn't put it there. he should've. he made the
mess, says sis, mom and I.
---------------
^--the little trigger
---------------

He gets pissed. goes off about how he has followed instructions on how to
deal with us, and still gets in shit.

today, gets sarcastic. starts packing.

Waits for mom to get home. we were just pulling out to get dinner, has
argument. loads stuff in truck. we get back. mike gets clothes. says goodbye.

gone.

and i sit here, what in the fuck is going on here. and I ponder. why the hell
does such a small trigger set off such a neutron bomb in lives. and i come up
blank.

and I think I need counseling.
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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 07 2002,06:11 Skip to the previous post in this topic. Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

so get it

and don't forget to shop for one with confidence

you know, like there are useless teachers?

same thing.

shop

what you do to save yourself to stay alive may *not work* but it will set in session something that might

the difference is that you HAVE to do any reasonable thing to move in the direction of having a life. That will tell Life that you are still interested in living. Not know what I mean?  Good!  Find out!

If that bad,
just walk
and save your soul

Edited by editor on Jan. 01 1970,01:00
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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 07 2002,06:18 Skip to the previous post in this topic. Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

just don't waste your life, don't let this do that, move on, your stronger than i am man.

--------------
"I don't have the evidence to prove that God doesn't exist, but I so strongly suspect he doesn't that I don't want to waste my time." (Isaac Asimov)
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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 07 2002,15:31 Skip to the previous post in this topic. Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

I would at least finish High School.  Don't drop out and worsen your life by dooming yourself to minimum wage.  Spend as little time at home as possible, find a club to join or move into the library and study your ass off.  Since it looks like you are going to have to make it in life with out the help of anybody else you have to take this time to prepare yourself.  Living at home right now at least gives you free rent, food and a place to sleep.  If you leave now you will have these things to worry about on top of your other issues.  Get your grades up so that you have the option to go to college, even if you decide not to go at least you have the option.  Education will be your weapon now; you can kick the crap out of the entire ghetto by getting out of there.  Maybe get yourself the damn Rocky soundtrack and play it over and over  ...then start drinking raw eggs in the morning.  You have to make the changes in your life, nobodies going to drop a million dollars and the keys to a new home in your lap.  I know that's a bit depressing, but you have to have a clear understanding that it is your life and you have to fix it.  People have a tendency to end up just like their parents, a sad fact.  Just keep that in mind when you feel the urge to self medicate to relieve some of the pain.  If you find your self drinking and drugging then you might as well sign up for sub duty in the navy and start driving cars without radios in them at all.  Personally I don't believe in all the ADD/ADHD shit that’s all the rage right now (yes, I know I will catch hell for that) I think it is just laziness/indifference that brings the grades down.  I think anybody can get good grades if they just make it a priority and focus on it.  Shit, the same kids who can't study in school and get anything above a D can memorize every cheat code for GTA3 and will spend hours and hours playing games  .....where is the attention deficit there?
So good luck to you, try hard and beat the ghetto.

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There's a sucker born every minute ...but swallowers are hard to find.
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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 07 2002,22:08 Skip to the previous post in this topic. Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

[advice]
how to deal with the shit life gives you:  survive.  It might sound like trite bullshit, but it will make you stronger.
I've been through more shit that you, and you might not think someone who works at a 7-11 has much good advice to give, but what i've been through has made me a better person.  I'm not very happy with how my life is going, but for the most part, im happy with who i am.  (I admitt to being an asshole at times on this MB, but im not like this IRL.)

Advice for HighSchool:  They won't fail you if you show up everyday, and have an IQ higher than sponge mold.  Pay attention in class, pass the tests, and don't cut.  Fuck homework right in its greasy waxy ear, and you're smart enough not to have to study.  Just show up, and bring your brain with you.  
DON'T drop out!  This is the reason im selling chore-boy's and little glass tubes with flowers in them (to be used for making crack pipes) at the local 7-11 instead of making large sums of money doing [whatever-it-is-i-would-have-done].  The system sucks big donkey dick, but rebeling against it does not help.
[/advice]

Edited by BlackFlag on Jan. 01 1970,01:00

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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 07 2002,22:17 Skip to the previous post in this topic. Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

ADD/ADHD is over-diagnosed.  Doctors just like prescribing shit.

Also, any psyciatrist worth a damn will focus on the family as a whole, and not on an individual when counciling.  I'd recomend you read some of the work of John Bradshaw, or find a psyciatrist/theripist who subscribes to Bradshaw's philosophies.

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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 07 2002,23:58 Skip to the previous post in this topic. Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

Damn your doctors and their crappy meds... if you want to continue medication, try and get them to prescribe Paxil.  It's not nearly as sedating as Zoloft.  Work your way up to a dosage that works for you... a lot of doctors tend to give you too much, too fast.  Start with 10mg a day, and work your way up by 5mg/week until you start to feel like a zombie sometimes, then stay there.  The zombie feeling goes away.

And keep taking it for a good, long time, long enough to get the fuck out of your current situation.  Nice thing about antidepressants is that you can deal with things much more rationally, because it's harder to get overwhelmed and hysterical.  You can sit there and think about all the crap in your life, and instead of just feeling like everything is hopeless, your mind will naturally start thinking of a way to get away from the bullshit.

Also, go to college.  Get financial aid or student loans if you have to.  College really does transform you; it's a totally different experience than high school... you're surrounded by (mostly) intelligent people who have chosen to go to school to better themselves, rather than a bunch of kids who are only there because they have to be.  Being "different" is a bad thing in high school.  In college EVERYONE wants to be different. :)

It makes an enormous difference.

Oh, and suicide == letting the fools win.  Go down on your feet, man, not on your knees...

Good luck.

Edited by damien_s_lucifer on Jan. 01 1970,01:00
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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 08 2002,00:18 Skip to the previous post in this topic. Skip to the next post in this topic. Ignore posts   QUOTE

get your school work done during the day or whatever you shouldnt have to worry about getting into the BEST uni i know people from cambridge uni, it fucks with their mind much better off doing a nice easy degree WHEN you make it there. and think about doing a martial art or self defence believe me you will be able to control and focus your aggresion and it can make you much more humble with your life plus being able to not take any shit from anyone. when you can look at other people and realise you can handle any situation life throws at you and you will if you take my advice you aint gonna have to worry about what crap life dealt you.

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PostIcon Posted on: Mar. 08 2002,04:21 Skip to the previous post in this topic.  Ignore posts   QUOTE

I feel for you man, and I don't feel like I can give you too much advice (new or good) because I'm 1-2 years younger than you. And you've been, without doubt, through a lot more than I.

Wiley's right, education is going to be your saviour- just be aware that your family may not help too much at all now, and your attempts to get back on track may be thwarted a good number of times. But that doesn't mean it's pointless. You won't be recovering from depression immediately so give it a good amount of time...

You may not be motivated to do schoolwork at all, but please try. Trying to do your work and keep your grades up is going to appear much harder if you ignore it for a good while, at least that's what I experienced since I'm in a slump myself but I'm working my way up slowly.

Nail some courses/tests/presentations with 80s or 90s, hopefully you'll feel thrilled enough to keep at it.

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