I'm just going to write about my ongoing struggle with depression here.
Before I start going into a boring and depressing rant, let me get some things straight:
*I AM NOT GOING TO #### ## ####!!! I may say several times that I want to die, but that's because (due to autism) i have alot of trouble discussing and interpreting my own feelings into a conversation.
* I DO NOT HATE ANYONE, NOR DO I DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN A RACE OR RELIGION!!!
* I don't judge you, but I am more than ok with you judging me. Actually, i prefer it. Go ahead and say something mean to me or something, or point out a flaw i have. Beleive it or not, but when you point out my flaws in a mean way, it makes it easier for me to correct them. So please, don't hesitate to bash me.
*I would greatly prefer that no one respond to my post. No one at all. Im not requesting a pity party, so dont you dare try to tell me how sorry you feel for me, or how terrible my life is. It drives me crazy when people do that.
*Dear Admin: PLEASE excuse the occasional slip of the finger while I type this. While recounting some of my hardest moments in life, I find it very difficult to control my self while creating this, and i dont pay muh attention to the words I write.
Well, Here goes. This will take a long while to read, so don't feel obligated to even start. I just need to vent. (i have autism, dyslexia, ADD/ADHD, and OCD)(im also a self-diagnosed sociopath, but thats more of a hobby)
I grew up as a military brat. I have lived generally all over America and been to other parts of the world. My father was a special forces task leader and a medic. Growing up, we never lived in one place for more than two or three years, so I never really got the chance to make any real freinds. When I did make a freind, I always ended up moving soon aftwerwards. This continued until last year, when we finally settled down in North carolina after my dad got a job as a medical software program and server maintainer.
While in the army, my father was always gone in other countries for two years or more, so I rarely got to see him. When I did, we were always in the process of moving to a new state, so until I was 12 years old, I never spent any time with him. Many nights when he WAS home, he would be very ##### and very angry.
My mother was home for us most of the time. She was usually very tentative to me and my sister's needs. She performed everything that needed doing, and she was the one person that has kept our family together over the years.
My father developed extreme PTSD while in the army, so he often woke up screeming in the middle of the night. I remember one time he was sleep walking, he walked into my room, picked me up and slung me over his shoulder as if I was a wounded soldier. He sprinted down the hall of our house and ran into the window and broke the glass, which gave me several scars on my back. When he woke up, he took me to the emergency room.
My father was very ##### all the time when he was home, so he was ften very irrational. Many times, he would go on and on to me about how much he was dissapointed to have me as a child, and that he wished I would die. That, combined with constantly moving and having no freinds left me feeling very abandoned.
When I was 8 years old, I found myself standing in the kitchen one night with a chunk of a broken wine glass that i had cut my foot on. I dont know why I had the impulse to, but i dug the ragged peice of glass into my fore-arm and scratched one long trail of blood from the middle of my arm up to my shoulder. This one thing (cutting myself) felt so good bacause it was the only thing that I felt I had control over. I decided to hide it under my pillow-case, and i would sometimes cut gashes along my thigh when I felt overwhealmed by life. To this day, I still have the same chunk of glass under my pillow case however, I rarely use it as I have found more effective and safe ways to control my stress.
When my father returned home about 5 months later, he was sent to a mental hospital for two years, because he had become homicidal and was deemed "a danger to society" until his condition was cured. After he was released from the mental hospital, he decided to leave the military.
We moved to a small brick house on a country highway when I was 10 years old. We lived on the bare minimum of money my dad received in compensation for his service to America while my dad went through collueage.
After my dad left the army, he became much more pleasant to be around, and now we have a beautiful father-son relationship. He doesnt rememebr anything he said or did to me when he was serving in the army.
When I was thirteen, I met a very beautiful girl in the seventh grade. Soon, we both became great freinds and developed a very (very) intimate relationship. We both were drawn to each other because of our similar experiences with parents hating us. Today, I still consider her to be the best thing that has ever (and brobably will ever) happen to me.
She had a gay brother that was three years older than her, and her parents were "Catholic". Because they were "Catholic," they hated him, and they hated their daughter because she supported her brother. Beacuse we lived in a very 'country' area, racism and the hate of gay people was very strong, so most people hated her brother.
The new emotional experiences I had while dating my girlfreind pushed me towards writing poetry. However, I rarely wrote anything about the god experiences in my life.
After dating her for about a year and a half, her aunt got custody of her and she moved to maine. Here is what happened:
I mentioned earlier that she had a gay brother several years older than her. I also mentioned that her damned "Catholic" parents hated both of them. Well, her brother commited suicide by hanging himself after being beaten by a group of college kids who were for the 'white-supremacy', and his ####### hateful "Catholic" damned parents WOULDNT GIVE HIME A DAMNED FUNERAL because he was ####### gay!!! So, her aunt took custody of her form her abusiive parents and she move to maine. Out of my life, just like that. Forever.
And I hate myself so musch for it, because I was so selfish that I cared more about my self and how I would feel when she left than I did about her brother commiting suicide and having to leave, and i never tried to help her once. I was so selfish, and I hate my self for it, and I want to die so that I wouldnt have to live with the guilt of letting her go without ever considering her feelings.
I started high school, and we moved to Raleigh because my dad got a medical software maintenence jobs paying very good money. I wanted to play footbal, but the season had already started and so i couldnt play, so i started running track.
About a weak into the school year, I had to get surgery to have an extra tooth removed from my sinus cavity. Later, i developed a sinus infection in that same spot, which spread up to my brane and down into my esouphogus, which put me into the hospital for 6 months and almost killed me. Because i was in the hospital for so long, my grades fell.
So far, thats everything that happened to me.
Suicide is terrible. If you arent part of the solution, your are part of the problem.
Spread kindness, be a lost soul's solution.
Give someone a reason to live
I am begging you all.