Time to go

Hi, anybody who reads this

It’s time to end this. I perhaps just want to share with someone out there something of the story of my life so that I know that I’ve perhaps got it out to someone.

Born in 1981 to a couple who perhaps should never have been – one good-looking, intelligent but obviously mentally unhealthy, the other with a physical (skin) ‘deformity’ rendering her unattractive to most – but together they came, and through whom three other lives came into this world (one, the last one – my younger sister – apparently ‘not planned for’ (seems absurd that _I_ was actually ‘planned for’)), all of whom were subjected to abuse of virtually every kind.

My early childhood impressed on me the ‘belief’ that I could not achieve anything, that I should stay away from women, particularly because I could not protect my 2 sisters, which also resulted in resentment on my part (as well as perhaps on theirs) and due to _most_ of the abuse being at the hands of women. How is a guy really supposed to live in this world while ‘carrying’ all of that with him! (?)

Mental illness set in at the age of 15 (I’m pretty much convinced, at least in my case, that it was a result of biological ‘predisposition’ as well as ‘environmental’ influences. I had just started to really excel academically – which was seemingly perhaps my only hope of improving my life situation – and (almost like a ‘knock-out blow’), ‘life’ told me that I was really not going to ‘make it’ here. Nevertheless, the ‘biological imperative’ (?) to survive drove me on – finished high school (with not great results, but in some unfathomable way, coming second in my school in terms of performance O.O ), got a job, with the help oh a helpful neighbour and started to study the following year. Unable to cope with the ‘politics’ of the work environment (really unprepared for the ‘dog-eat-dog’ world), I eventually left that job (My director, for whatever f*ing reason in some f*ed up way, accesses a document containing my contemplations of being fired – me being very insecure, that was inevitable, I suppose, and mostly due to embarrassment, I resigned). Lacking any real desire and unable to focus, I continued studying (through correspondence) and scrape through, ‘achieving’ a BSc degree (math, statistics as a majors). Oh yeah, in the middle of that, my dad gets sick and dies in probably the most excruciating, undignified way a human being (or perhaps any life-form) has – and I am not by any means exaggerating, further leaving me, with the question that if this is how it is likely to f*ing end anyway, why the f*ck keep going on through this anyway. Oh yeah, and to try to put food on the table, my mom worked for most of our lives as a maid, while getting further abuse, from one house to the next, for just a few coins, really.

We could not pay for my dad’s funeral (I hope somehow, mine is paid for by my family – theoretically they can), so painfully, we literally had to beg to bury him (even some of those who had put him and the rest of my family through hell, well, gave us a few coins to at least bury the man). My sister (sisters (?) – I’m not sure), prostituted to survive, while I could not be there for them in any sense – battling mental illness and not finding work (Don’t judge until you really know what it’s like to be in somebody else’s shoes – to those who judge ‘prostitutes’). Finally, got another job – still struggled to cope, but nevertheless got by. Got a bursary to do at least my ‘honours’ year, and subsequently got a somewhat better job. Still couldn’t really cope but got by through producing the occasional stuff that seemingly impressed enough to at the least keep me ‘afloat’.

That didn’t last long. I was never asked to leave, but being unable to really socialise, unable to make any significant headway academically and in my job, family being persecuted by the same neighbours (I did move to another city to work, but never felt secure enough to get a place and move them with me), as well as me being the seemingly easy target for my ‘colleagues’ resulted in a near-breakdown for me. I was ‘receiving’ psychiatric ‘treatment’ through all this – my doctor telling me that I couldn’t be fired if I was in hospital gave me the idea to get myself hospitalised. The hope was that I could buy myself some time to work through my issues and then get back to work; I couldn’t stand the thought of losing my job. With my medical aid exhausted I got myself into the state mental hospital – turned out that (yes, you may smile here, and I understand) that that was the worst move I could make – put on anti-psychotics and the like and treated like something only slightly human, I eventually got out of all of that, but with no job, and a somewhat ruined ‘image’ (at least what was left to ruin professionally).

It’s been a few years now – unable to find work, and physically not well – indeed sometimes barely able to recognise myself – going bald as well, at 31 (Oh yeah, I got addicted to ‘masturbation’ (perhaps due to loneliness and sexual frustration (?) – that really put the ‘icing on the cake’ (/ ‘nail on the coffin’) and really f*ed up my health (and looks – I was actually a good-looking boy, though no more than 5 feet, 3 inches ‘tall’)).

So, after a lifetime of abuse, frustration, mental illness, witnessing the torrid lives of the rest of my family (and seeing my dad die perhaps the most undignified death), now 10 days after my 31st birthday, a short, scrawny, balding guy, about to be homeless, and with a significant amount of debt (my credit card(s) have helped me survive for a while, along with a bit of help from my family), I am going to end this – indeed, it is time to go …