Nervous breakdown

@NDF naci en los angeles pero ahora vivo en el estado de washington. Pinches racistas no paran de joder. Nunca termina la lluvia ni el frio. Se que somos fuertes, es la unica razon que sigo con vida, por terco y duro de cabeza. Pero no cambia lo que siento, un vacio que tiene una profundidad incomprensible. Disculpa mi español, soy medio menso.

@NDF Si, soy mexicano. Chale, ya quisiera. Estoy comprometido en el ejercito por 7 meses mas. Quiza despues pero no se que voy hacer.

@Scar504 My father was paralyzed when I was 11 years old. We were poor to begin with and had no money to take care of him. My mother was weak willed and was already on the verge of divorcing him before it happened. She couldn’t handle it and I saw the look on her face whenever she had to bathe him or change his “diaper.” My father was a mason worker, very strong man and very much a manly man. Women would swoon over him and I really admired him. He was not a good father, though, he didn’t like being tied down. He wasn’t the worst father but he never liked to show us emotion. Because of that, we always tried to compete for his affection. I hated my family, we were always at each other’s throats. It only got worse as the years went by. After his accident, there was even more dissension. I tried to help my mother by offering to help her with taking care of my dad. She was glad to take a break and I took over as my father’s primary caretaker. I was only 11 years old but here I was, feeding, clothing, bathing a grown man. Quadriplegics have to undergo a “bowel program” which is a fancy way of saying taking a shit. Their bodies don’t do it on their own so you have to induce it. Rather, I had to induce it. It was very traumatic and over time this situation forced us to move around a lot and it forced me to shut down and mature a lot earlier. After a year, my father won a settlement from the accident and my grandmother took him away from us along with his money. Having lived poor and shitty for so long, our one chance to make things right was taken away. He left, we continued being poor and hating each other, I became a loner at school. I’m a loner now. Part of me likes it but I don’t like what it comes with. The loneliness, the sadness, the emptiness. That’s the gist of my story, I left out some grimy details that I can’t even confess to myself let alone the world. Sorry.

@Scar504 I thought about group therapy, but that’s just a temporary fix I think. Just like now, I feel better letting this off my chest to someone but I’ll be back. I’m strong enough to go out and keep struggling again. I feel as if I’m scaling a wall for no reason and the higher I climb, the more I want to let go because I feel that once I get to the top there will be nothing there. So sometimes I do let go and I wind up here.

Razones fuertes para vivir. Mi familia no desean hablar conmigo, siempro soy yo el que estoy hablando con ellos. Nunca eramos cercanos que digamos. En verdad, no tengo a nadie. Me da tristeza saber que hay gente que sufren sin razon, entiendo tu odio hacia Dios. En verdad, no tiene sentido que exista tanto dolor. Pero para uno que era cazi fanatico, es mi mundo destruido y no veo razon para seguir.