The beginning of 2016 was when I got myself together and had my three beautiful children full time I was working as well. I shelters many people family or not and fed the mouth of people who talked bad upon me. I’ve never been the perfect mom sister daughter but I always made sure everyone was good and taking care. October of 2016 was when I experimented with a certain drug. No the drug did not ruin my life but it changed me as a person. The same month landlord told me I could not renew my lease because another lady needed a place to stay with her children so I have been homeless since November 1st of 2016. I found out I had a warrant for my arrest because they subpoenaed me to go to court for child support case I opened on my sons dad. I had to work that day and we were already short on money and I figured to take care of my children me going to work was a better choice. My drug usage started getting heavier when I had to send my kids to my grandparents house. I have been going from hotel to hotel and finally lost my job because they found out I had a warrant. I had to Resort to prostitution to provide for my kids and my family. I slow down on my drug usage so I could focus on living a better life. Even through my struggle I made sure my family and my friends we’re taking care of. I have no help for myself and don’t know how to cope with what’s going on. I failed as a mother a daughter and a sister. I have no reason to live. Everyone in my life has been a blessing or a lesson and I always learned a lesson instead of finding someone who was my blessing. I can’t even care for my kids like a real mom so what’s the point of living. Being a single mom is tough but I can’t provide for them or myself. If you knew more about my life you probably feel the same way too. I’m 22 years old and have fought a tough battle. They say God wouldn’t give you more than you could handle but I have reached my limit. Thank you to everyone who has made a positive impact on my life and I pray I have made a positive impact on at least one person’s life. That is my story of 2016 the eye-opening year. Thank you for reading.
When i got back from my gospel camp i felt “new” in a way i felt good inside everything was turning around then the “shit hit the fan”. About a few weeks from being back my little sister went to Seattle for her round up band thing and my mother is a volunteer for this band. turns out my mom met some guy who is another volunteer with the round up band and now my parents are splitting up and that’s just one of the things that making me stress out hardcore. If any of you have read my other posts you would have noticed that i talk about this girl Morgan a lot well i thought i finally got over her i thought that i would never see her again but since i apologized for being a total asshole after she left me we start talking and it just so happens that she is moving the exact same city i live in. Now im starting to develop those feelings i had for her all over again and believe me when i say that i want Morgan because i do truly love her but i know she has none of these feelings for me. One of my best friends said that i just pick the wrong women in-fact she called my most recent ex a “cake face” but i know deep down in what was once a heart that i love he. Another big stress issue is that i cant find a full time job right now like i have a part time job but i need money to help pay the bills seeing how my mother is now refusing to pay child support so we are just barley getting by with bills and food money im still on the hunt for a job but personally i think that i have to get this other stress off my back before i can work any where because my mind would always be else where. The word trust is defined as “Firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something” how can i ever truly trust another person again like i trusted my mother and look what happened i trusted Morgan with my heart and look what happened i only truly trust one person on this world and that’s my best friend Kiro. Kiro and i have been best friends since we were 4 years old he takes care of me when im down he actually is more concerned about my health then i am and that is funny. how can i have another girlfriend if i cant trust her how can i have a wife if i cant trust her i try and trust people but i end up getting fucked over in the end hell im considering going back to smoking like im already drinking when ever i have the money. With all of this shit going on in my life right now i feel like just wanting to end it all but in the end i just don’t know what to do anymore. Life is about a controlled society and that involves rules and i broke my rule ” TRUST NO ONE ‘ SUSPECT EVERYONE.
In 2011, I started praying for a meteor to hit the Earth so that the human race would be erased from universal history.
I’ve since then gotten more angry- for what should probably be obvious reasons. Although I am sure people don’t understand, because most people do not understand honey boo boo plots – they are simply too advanced. hmm where should I begin here?
I was born on September 11th, 1986. Well, maybe I should have taken it as a sign and offed myself on the day I turned 15 or whatever.
Well, I could begin by talking about a father whom I didn’t know because he was a rich doctor who was never home and we lived in a miami mansion until I was five or so. We had Ferrari’s and Porsches and BMWs and Mercedes until I was 17, so I never understood any differently. When I was 7 there was a divorce, not that I cared – I had no idea what the fuck was going on and I really didn’t “know” my father anyway, all I know is congratulations you are now man of the house. “Thanks dad for giving me your job” – apparently what I said, don’t remember. Anyway, he leaves me with a oxycotin abusing piece of shit that lives off exorbitant amounts of alimony and child support so she can continue living the good life. Never had to work a day in her life, but raising me was such a goddamn challenge because I was just so awful. I mean, I was always an introvert who had no friends and played nintendo 64 because thats all the interaction I got. She would slam the door and threaten to kill m e, slam dishes around, tell me my father had herpes and didn’t want to stick around. Oh yeah, there was one live in disaster figure that was supposed to be a “father” or some fucked up shit that became all about money and having to hear about her money woes. What a fucking laugh. Anyway, so I turn 17 and go off to college, since I didn’t do too bad in school or get arrested or beat her in the face with a hanger like she wanted to frame me doing because I was just such a piece of shit, and the father (who I had the fun of going on fancy trips with to france with a hooker girlfriend that ended up carving fuck you in his front door and told me to fuck myself on the trip when I was like 13, anyway) he shows up with the birth giver vaginal canal that I crawled out of who of course threw the 43,352 nd fit and I had had enough – I was an adult now goddamnit. So I was supposed to take her to the airport so she could fly the fuck back home and I didn’t. I didn’t talk to her for a few years.
So now I have no social skills at this point (still dont, Ive just perfected not having any by now) and Im 18 at this point living in a nice bunkbed with a dorm mate. Of course that was a blast – but at least I was out of the state that I hated so much (Texas). So I found my first years of college quite hard, and had no clue what the hell I wanted to do (still dont). I changed majors a few times, changed colleges- fairly normal. Then I got into this lovely battle with this dyke biologist who told me I was going to fail – lip ring dyke. I left the class and she failed me. So I had to go through a legal battle for six months removing something and finally ended up winning – except now I really had no will to go to school anymore after all the fights accumulated up to this point. So I dropped out, the girlfriend I had at the time couldn’t deal with the depression at that point and left me of course. Strangely enough I continued on with school (it was that or get cut off from the gracious millionaire who had apparently not been hurting anyway since my college had been saved for since I was born and paid for but anyway- continued on and started doing better) then millionaire herpie sperm donor said it was just too expensive to live out of state and I had to go back to my favorite one. Fear and control forced me and another girl who I was with at that time to come back to the place I said I’d never set foot in again. Anyway enrolled in a college here, we broke up because this girl couldn’t deal with the depression either and went back to her state. Nothing too horrible here. This was when my life was still wonderful.
Then I met my wife – who I didn’t know would be at this point, I just wanted out of school. I ended up graduating cum laude with a bachelor’s of business administration in economics in the ripe year of 2009. And let me tell you, the timing couldn’t have been better. Still, in this weird multi dependency between my grandmother who would buy groceries for me and begged me to have a relationship with the gold digging vaginal canal who I fell out of (who had ended up after the alimony quit, living my grandparents until she found enough guys to fuck she finally found the right guy to fuck – happens to be yes you guessed it – a rich railway president and got to live the great life again and ended up selling her life insurance that was in my name for fancy artwork and redoing kitchen fund) I know this is a runnon, but so is my life. Anyway, she wanted me to be in a relationship with her of course, even though she knew how bad it was growing up with it, and they had gotten an attorne y to gain custody of me because of the abuse, but anyway there was a sudden change of heart. The future wife didnt know how confuckuluated it was so she suggested that I at least try.
So I did. Then my future wife at this point got to meet her. Due to the lovely economy, which is truly wonderful, I went into graduate school at this point, and wonderful birth giver said I should be an electrician (irony is coming soon), anyway. So I asked her how I was to have the time to go to trade school while I was in masters program for quantitative finance. She said I’d figure it out because she had to back in the early 80s or whatever.
None of this makes any sense does it? Nope, not an ounce. But anyway future wife saw how birth giver was trying to turn her against me and saying how hard I was to raise (behind closed doors naturally) so she finally came to the conclusion herself and apologized to me. I was afterall the cause of my mother’s slipped disks and back problems in this imaginary side story. Anyway, I mostly cut off the birth giver side of the “family” just long enough so I could continue getting groceries from her birth giver (who when she met my wife, tried to set me up in front of her with the 18 year old girl who lived across the street) but anyway (anyway is my favorite word when describing my life)
So I end up graduating graduate school and earn my master of science in quantitative finance (more “prestigious” lol than an MBA) with a 3.84 average or some shit like that whatever, in 2011. And frantically, who I explained to sperm donor on numerous events the economy wasn’t coming back but this was the greatest country in the world. So after I was right, he never admitted it of course, he was even trying to find me a job. Luckily, he found a nice sales job out of texas in which I had to pass my series 7 and 66 exams – which I did of course because im such a piece of shit. the caveat was I had to be controlled by him even more and longer. so I went out there and door knocked and people who were being foreclosed on and quit because I knew I couldn’t sell shit in this economy, nobody has anything. Then I had to move back to you guessed it TEEEEEXXXXXAAAAASSSSS. Before I had left for this venture, I had completely cut off the birth giver side of the family because in my mind, I was just about to hit the big time L O FUCKING L
This was so I could be with my future wife. I had made the mistake to go back and get yet more education before I figured it out – there absolutely, positively, was no future in anything financial or economic based in this goddamn mother fucking piece of shit ass fucking fuckity fuck fuck fucking fuck of a nation, and I dropped out. I then got engaged and eventually told my father who asked me why I cant just live with her. I havent spoken to him since.
This whole time Ive been living out a bedroom in my lovely mother in laws house with my wife. Eventually I had to get a job, but I started learning as much as I could about everything. And I did. I learned welding, electronics, computer programming and how to build computers, I learned how to animate, build websites, alternative energy, and things like this. I used all the good credit I had built up and purposefully maxed them out so I could learn everything on my own – and did. But I still couldn’t earn a dime, so I took a lovely job with the electrician’s union where I got to work with the nicest rednecks and mexicans who wanted me out, and managed to do so. Fucking ironic huh? Anyway, so I spent the last nine months building my own company and built a website and trying to find investors. My uncle (non directly related) is the only one in the “family” I have any contact with who supports me in what I am doing. We are living on unemployment, food stamps, a mother in law who feels entitled because she too used to be a rich woman and now all day long makes matters worse by talking about the one and only thing I could never do – which was make money (yet more irony fit for a dark comedy or tragic novella)
took a welding job and built an entire kitchen and granite showroom by myself for a fuckface who told me I would have a warehouse position for umpteen grand a year and when I was done building it fucked me off. Was going to night school for welding and couldn’t get financing any longer because of my other degrees mean im not qualified to get a school loan (not that I would have paid it)
Anyway, got in a dispute with the mother in law today over throwing out some board games that she hadnt seen in 10 years and during this 6,800 frame animation im doing for my company I decided I have just simply lost the will to live.
I have studdied the quickest death possible and know the parts of the brain well enough to know which ones to pierce, but sadly you guessed it (cant afford to buy a gun) and I also cant afford to go get help and the free help wont be free and this fucking obamacare is now a tax just to be alive. So go fuck yourselves!
So I told my wife, I have simply lost the will to live or do anything anymore, its been 20 years of consistent lows and I really just dont have that drive even to get revenge with success. So I have decided to either stop eating and drinking or go out into the wilderness and build a cob house out of sand, mud, straw, and water and steal a book on what plants to eat and just get away from all humanoid sentient life. Call it a case of cabin fever for a year and a half.
Im just sad that the meteor didnt hit in 2012, I was going to go steal a pina coloda and sing koombaya as it rolled in with a smile ear to ear on my fucking worthless ass peon face- at least the illuminati and the rothschilds and queen of england would all have to go to their underground bunker and live for 70 years before emerging with nothing.
So fuck everybody, I really really believe I can go live in the wilderness, and be happy if I can figure it out but at least get some fucking excitement for once outside of disappointment and loss. I will get out of this god forsaken state once and for all and go where I really want to go, and be free of family and money forever.
I am not interested in the “mysteries” or religion or other manmade shit, in fact I hate it because it is the very reason why the economy sucks. No, but I do believe that I wasn’t supposed to be born like in the butterfly effect alternate ending – like I was just an anomaly in space time like donnie darko. Ive wondered if this is just a rigged game designed to see how long someone takes to drift into insanity like a social experiment for which I have not yet been paid and no confetti has dropped for surviving like the truman show. Ive wondered if its my shit ass attitude about the whole thing envokes some death spiral of which I cannot escape and other humanoids automatically wish for me to die, but alas I cannot figure the fucking thing out. I just have realized that as long as I exist in this society the more I will lose and the more others will have scorn and contempt on me being born.
Which is fucked up from the beginning, because sperm donor and birthing canal had to copulate some time in 1985, I had to unwillfully come into this existence. How fucked is that?
Anyway I thought about it and I could only come up with one human being who had it worse than I have, go watch Monster with charlize theron. That is literally how far I had to go.
There is millions of more hours of material all you sick and loathing depressed people can laugh at, I just dont remember all of it because my perital lobes are filled with misery and have literally run out of synapses to store more information, simply put, me and my “genius” needs to figure out how I can shove my head in my ass and eat myself from within so I can literally implode and become a black hole. For then I can suck in all of you and make you feel my pain at a point of singularity – you know what they say misery loves company.
my username for unemployment was meteor2012
It was only recently that I’d stumbled across a site like this, somewhere to put my thoughts, with complete strangers, unbiased views of a life.
As is everyone else for being here, I wish to end my life.
In my family, I am the oldest, naturally, the one with the highest of expectations.
I was also, in all technically, a bastard child, one with a father, if that should even be used, whom left, and said I was being created in the belly of a slut mother, who slept with everyone but him, hereby resulting in me not being blood to him.
As expected, he was simply a coward, Tests came back in my mother’s favour, giving her child support.
During my mother’s pregnancy, She was caught up in multiple dangerous events, a car crash, toxemia (if I did not spell that correct, I apologize.) Labor for two days, and other numerous things.
All in which she was badly hurt, and I should have died.
I did not.
At my birth, She was paralyzed on the left side of her face.
Another thing I had caused.
She had to feed, clothe, and take care of me, being first borne, I was coddled.
I, returned her act’s of kindness and generous behaviours, by being a child from hell.
Wishing her dead, being violent and disruptive.
I regret them now.
Age was no excuse, I should’ve behaved better.
As I grew older, she was married, and had another child.
I was instantly jealous, as expected.
I grew cold to this child.
I’ve done nothing but treat my sister badly.
I’ve done nothing but treat my Mother badly.
I ignored her, now ex husband.
again, my mother tried to find love in the arms of men, time and time again, I would become attatched, until they were abruptly removed for thir cruelty to my mother.
they all said how I was so much like them.
eventually, my mother met one man, and they dated for three years.
in that time, he eventually began ‘lecturing’ me, on the basis of Anatomy.
I will not go into this, because it is shameful for me to have allowed him to do what he had done. I was too scared, and too ashamed to admit what had happened.
So i did not until I was fourteen.
Even then, my shame was at full bloom, I should not have said a word, and naturally, I have not drawn it to the attention of the court.
she eventually left him, and got a restraining order due to him growing violent.
She met a man, at a point, falling in love, moving in with him, I tried to connect, because she was so sure he was the one.
in the end, he hurt her.
but she returned to him.
I tried so hard to reconnect, but in the end, I began to resent him.
He had two children of his own, I liked them somewhat, and they both looked up to me.
It felt nice, having a family.
Eventually, my mother was pregnant, adding yet another girl to our bunch.
I vowed to do better for this one.
there was complications, and the baby needed a trake. (again. I’m sorry if I misspell.)
The baby is currently in a hospital, and Is doing well, she talks and walks, at the age of one, I believe.
The two children of her, now Fiancee, have wronged us, after I grew attatched to them.
My Uncle had made a comment, about the oldest of his grandfather being a pedophile.
In all honesty, I agree, he makes me uncomfortable, and I feel as if he may lash out at anytime.
The person he had told this too, however, was bad, and quickly told said Grandfather and Grandmother of his comment.
they convinced the Fiancee’s children to say my Uncle was a pedophile.
He was banned from seeing his own family, and DCF was involved, though they found no evidence of pedophilia.
He was innocent, but made to suffer.
These children are now forced to live with their mother, due to the Grandparents design.
They constantly heckle my Mother and Her Fiancee.
At one point, the Grandfather chased them down as the Fiancee dropped off his children, called my mother a “Fat Whore” and said he would fight them, attempting to run them off the road.
He then threatened the Fiancee’s Job, saying he would be fired.
In response, my mother nolonger allowed him to see the Baby.
They turned the entire Fiancee’s family against us.
Things have only gone more and more downhill, and I’ve done little to help, forcing my mother to tears with my anger.
I don’t know why I’m Angry.
I don’t know why I’m Sad.
I try everything to keep myself happy.
I lose myself in videogames.
I become interested in TV shows and videos.
Collect Cards and figures.
Anything to try and smile.
they’ve all begun to fall me.
Wanting things is bad, because we have little to no money.
Having likes and dislikes for food is bad, because we barely make it every month.
All I do is gobble up money.
Even worse, I’ve begun to consider becoming a man.
I dropped the idea of sex changes to my Mother, inconspicously, and she said it was an abomination.
I cannot hurt her anymore.
But it seems everything I do is bad.
I’ve run out of reasons to live. The Cons outweigh the Pros.
I understand that my family will miss me, perhaps even my friends, but only because I’m human.
In time, they will forget about me, just as they have with other dead.
I’ve been thinking of mixing Ammonia and Bleach, due to those being easy household chemicals.
I tried to make a pact with myself to live until Twenty, But I can’t make it.
I’m never happy.
I don’t help anyone but myself.
I only hinder.
I need to stop hindering
Family & Friends EffectsGeneralI Will SurvivePoetry & ArtRantsStories of HopeStories of LossSuicidal Survivors
Hey guys, it’s been a while. Things have been going a whole lot smoother, it’s been better since September, but I’ll make sure to catch everyone up. During the summer, I went over to my father’s house more often and I enjoyed the time I got to spend with him and my step-mom, I enjoyed feeling free and responible at the same time; it was so much like cutting. Then, a little bit afterwards, my mom got pregnate, it’s the first time this has happened in five years and I am just freakin’ excited and happy for her, but she’s taken it way too far out. She’s trying to be the people that say “The Earth is the center of the universe”, which didn’t turn out to be correct, and crazy enough, my aunt Shannah is pregnate again, the same guy who knocked her up almost three years ago and is still in jail and won’t go to see his kids or pay his child support. Yep, my life has gotten crazy, especially towards the end of August. My mother started to be sick and tired of my sister, of how she wanted to go over to our father’s house and live with him, so she came up with the idea of kicking her out of the house for three months and having her live with our father. And then I started acting up, I started to get upset with my mother because I couldn’t believe how she would just do that to my sister, make her leave just so she could see “the man that my father really is”. So, because I “defied” against her, I was going too. And, for my last magic trick for my mother, IÂ Â cut my anger out, I cried and tried to take out whatever it was inside me that made me so bad. I was hurt, because I was mommy’s little girl, and I would back her up, but my sister was always before her, and she hated that, so I did what she said that I was always doing to her, I began to rebel for the last three days. There were so many cuts (I promise they are now all healed.) and so much pain, and it was just the last night before I was supposed to leave that I had my courage. I used to have this box that contained ALL my cutting tools; glass, knifes, razors, even a suicide note of mine that I read. My mother always promised me that when I got better and didn’t cut we would throw it out, together. That was two years ago, and every time I would remind her about it, she told me that she kept it there for me to remember to never cut again; but she didn’t know that she was my reminder that I WANTED to cut. So, I finally threw away that box without her because I grew up enought to know that she wouldn’t grow up.
Now, for the past two months, I have been happier than ever! I feel so much better, so much more alive and like I have a purpose, all because I finally found what I had always wanted; a family. The family I dreamed of was how we would all spend time together, help eachother out, drive each other a little nuts sometimes, but we loved each other and would never raise our voices in anger, only in laughter. I feel more mature, so much more better. Last night, I started looking through picture albums that my step-mom has for an art project I had to do, and while I looked through them, I wanted to cry. There were pictures of my sister and I in our Barbie princess and Princess Jasmine Halloween costumes, pictures of us at the car show in Moab, at the Blue Angels events, how we were such a happy family. Then I went to the next three picture albums and I wasn’t there. There were no pictures of me, because I didn’t want to go to my father’s house, because I listened to my mother and how she told me for all those years what a terrible and horrible father he was, how he never wanted me, and IÂ Â believed her. I cried when I realized how much I missedÂ my life with my father and my step-mom, how I had hurt them, yet they waited for me to grow up and open my eyes. I love my family for that; for waiting for me.
I’m going to tell you all a secret, maybe multiple, but it always helps to talk to friends. I am scared, I am frightened about going back to my mother’s house on December 1st. I have become a person that I know my mother would hate, because it reminds her so much of my father, and she’ll expect me to go back to the person I was; the little Bug of hers, the cutter, the depressed and lost puppy dog that will always follow her around, but thing is I actually like this me, I actually and finally feel like me. And with this whole baby thing, I’m scared that she’ll try to guilt trip me, try to take control over me again. No matter how much I love Death, no matter how much cutting is my greatest and srongest high, I can’t go back to it, not anytime soon, because I am so close to something. My beautiful nightmares have caught up with me again, laughing and taunting me with my fears. What do I do now? That is my question to my dear friends. What do I do now?
So, I’ve gone through a lot lately, I was enrolled to college out of high school, as are most people these days.
I was promised a job, a house, a roof over my head, and all the things that go a long with moving from one parent to another.
As soon as I made the journey from my Grandparents to my fathers, I knew something wasn’t right though.
The job my father had promised me, it never existed.
Even after not dropping a dime to child support for the last 18 years of my life, he still complained when there was another person under his roof.
The second I couldn’t deal with all his stipulations and terms of living by and his constant bickering and stories and lies, he booted me out, and left me stranded with no plans. There went college, there were no dorms on campus and the job he supposedly had for me never existed so I couldn’t afford anÂ apartment.
So, now I’m back at my grandparents house, but only for another few weeks, then they go back to Florida where they actually live instead of New York where they’re trying to sell a house. Which puts me on the street.
I mean sure I could couch hop from friend to friend do odd jobs for a meal once in a while and just survive. But after everything that’s been going on in my head and all the emotions that have built up inside and all the recklessness i’ve inflicted upon myself and others, I feel like maybe I should give back.
For myself, for others, for awareness.
So after considering many options I thought of different things like the Job Corps and joining the military, but because of a past history of asthma I can’t join the military, and the job corps is almost moreÂ competitiveÂ than colleges these days.
So I had to think of another idea, and days went by until I finally realized it.
you here about homeless problems and world hunger and third worldÂ countryÂ issues, but how often if ever do you hear about the kids in the news, aside from teacher strikes and school issues with budgets, you don’t really.
So I’m going to walk.
I’m going to walk from the State of New York, to the State of California, to raise awareness for the homeless children and teenagers.
It’s not going to be an easy thing, considering I have no budget or actual supplies, I’ll pretty much be living off the land and aside from a few facebook posts, and this post here, I don’t think anyone will really know my purpose. But if I can spread word at all in the next few weeks, get a small budget going and some supplies, I have some fishing gear and warm clothes, I live in new york as I said, then I can make this more public, maybe get a blog going to update and things like that. I don’t expect nationwide fame, but as long as I can touch a few people and raise awareness to an extent I’ll be happy.
I’m not a guy who’s going to change the world. Hell, I don’t wanna be.
but I am the guy who’s going to get other people to start thinking.
This isn’t really a great website to post this on, but it’s been a sort of home to me aside from just lurking and the few posts I have made.
So if you’ve gotten this far, thank you for reading and maybe I’ll meet some of you along the way on my journey. I’ll keep you updated.
Sorry if this is the wrong place to put this, but i needed to say something to let stuff out for once. My life has not beenÂ very terrible,Â I just feel it was an unsuccessful one.Â I have known i wasn’t going to make it very long since i was 13, I would try to imagine myself doing normal things like getting a drivers license or dating but i just couldn’t see it or feel it. My father was physically abusive to my sister and mother andÂ emotionally abusive to me, my mother divorced him when i was 2 but she was scared and had an unlucky choice of a lawyer and he was able to get away with paying only 200$ a month for child support (the second my sisterÂ and i turned 18 he cut us off)Â along with annual visits. My mother had to raise me and my physically and mentally handicapped sister (epileptic, autistic,Â 2x stroke victim all before she wasÂ even 20)Â all on her own. When i was younger i admit i would get excited about visiting him but the second i stepped foot in the air port i would get sick to my stomach and never could figure why, only after the excitement of having a father again washed off and the quick remembering of last visits did i begin to regret being near him (the quiet ride to his house gave me lots of time to think). But i was young and its hard for a little kid to believe their own father doesn’t care for you enough to even give you and your handicapped sister a bed to sleep on (we would often sleep on the floor, sofa, or porch). His abuse has left me afraid of loud noises and unable to stop from crying or panicking when someone raises their voice or i feel cornered and in trouble, along with many health problems from a combination of bad genetics and malnourishment as a kid. I am severely obese even though i am only 18 and have been overweight my entire life whichÂ makes me feel inferior to others my own age and have never got along with kids my age. The idea of having a job scares me, the fear of doing things wrong terrifies me because that’s when my father wouldÂ yell and shakeÂ me. I stopped communicating and visiting my father when I was 15 and i started remembering the things he did more, such as seeing him beat my 4 yr step brother (it kills me to know i have a brother out there but have only ever met himÂ 3 times and haven’t seen in 7 yrs)Â for something as simple as crying for not wanting to take a bath, me hiding from him in closets and under beds just to be ranked out and everything going black, and him making my post stroke, paralyzed on left side, sister sleep on the floor near a air vent after my mother specifically told him not to, leaving my sister to get so sick she almost died and had to get a stomach tube put in just so she could eat. I know there are worse off people out there but the guilt i feel for the burden i am to my mother is unbearable, i see her worry about me more and more each day. I try to give her hope that at least one of herÂ daughters is normal, butÂ iÂ can tell she knows I’m not right in the head. last year the closest thing i had to a normal family member died and that’s when i started going down hill only recently after it happened again have i completely given up, i have nothing to care for anymore, no more worries. Ive started getting paranoid, i seem to be getting paranoid about my mother i think its a way for me to push her away so it will be easier on me not to care. All i want to do is sleep, nothing interests me and i have nothing to look forward to, life just has no purpose for me and i have no purposeÂ in it, I’m not hungry (i cant even finish my favorite meals anymore), my head feels foggy and as if the gears are all stuck, i cry almost everyday and I’m not even sure why half the time, andÂ i keepÂ forgetting things even my own age i don’t feel 18 i don’t feel like Ive changed at all since i was little. I cant talk to my mom about these things because shes fragile, when i was little i got upset over nothing and for some reason told her i wanted to kill myself, which i didn’t. i hate myself for hurting her like that especially after the doctors took advantage over a mothers worry and convinced her i need expensive therapy and drugs (that did nothing). Ever since thenÂ i make sure to not tell her anything i know she will be sad over, she doesn’t deserve all the terrible things that have happened to her i just don’t want to worry her anymore. And i know the pressure to be like everyone else will only get worse shes wants me to work and Ive already done a couple interviews and I’m panicking, i can’t work with other people, strangers, i cant handle responsibility. I feel like I’m going to crack any day now, that I’m going to say or do something i cant fix, or that I’m going to lose myself and fall apart.Â I’m so tired,Â IÂ just want to sleep and not wake up.
This is going to be really long but I’m going to keep it as short as possible. This is most of my life and most of my problems all in one. Â I’ve never told anyone all of this but I really need to get it all off my chest- Â so here it goes
So I’m Â a 13 year old boy crazy girl. From the outsde I look like I have it all together. I’m that pretty popular cheerleader who looks like she has a lot of friends and guys like her. Sounds greatright? That girl isnt the real me. I’m falling apart.Im insecure. I feel fat an ugly and dumb. Ive started to do Â some illegal things I make me feel better. I also cut myself and I Â have suicidal Â thoughts. I want to be anorexic and I’ve tried being bulimic but whenever I try to make myself throw up it doesn’t work so I cut myself and have sucidial thoughts and just feel worthless an horrible about myself. I’m not Doug all this just to get attention or be ‘cool’ my life is so messed up.my parents are divorce and can’t even be on the phone without screaming at each other – this has been happening since I was 4. My dad is emotionally and mentally abusive. He usually doesn’t hit me but he has before. He is also an alcoholic. I never want to seem him and agian and you would think my mom wouldn’t make me go over there anymore but she does. Her reason? She likes having the time away so she can do Â other stuff- so basically shedoesnt want me and my dad last summer straight out told me he didn’t want to see me anymore and he still has yet to apologize or even acknowledge what he said. And for the past few months he hasn’t been paying for child support so legally he could go to jail but my mom won’t report him because then shed have to have me all the time. My mom since I was little has worked full time and so he’s gone at about 7 and doesn’t get back till about 7 so she’s barely ever around. She also has had 4 serious boyfriends since I was 5 thative met and then they’ve left. And I know she can’t control either Â of those but with my dad constantly coming in and out of my life and her boyfriends coming then leaving forever and she also has a boyfriend right now who came into my life when I was 11 and I don’t want him to be a father figure but I don’t know what I want him to be. He doesn’t really try with me and the longest conversation we had was him yelling at me and basically calling me a worthless dumb piece of shit who is going to fail in life. On top of me not really liking him his son sexually assaulted m- he took advantage of me after we’d smoked a laced cigar (I didn’t knÃ´w it wa laced ) and I was messed up and didn’t know what was happily till a few hours later I think. I told one of my good friends but I only told we because I was drunk. She’s the only one who knows besides his best friend who was there. And I have a brother who is 16 and no matter what he does he’s the perfect child and compared to him I’m nothing. In my moms eyes nothing I do or say is as good or as worthy as his opinion. And he knows Â it he acts likely is perfect and I am his walking mat. He also tries to parent me since we never had a father but he doesn’t know when to parent and when to be a brother and it’s justhorrile. I have trust issues with guys but at the same time I get attached to guys to easily and right now I love this guy who told me he lives me but he barel ever calls or texts me and it’s been a month and a half ( I know it sounds childish and immature but when we were together we spent 24/7 with each other but he lives in a different state so I guess it’s not gonna work.Idintbhave a lot of friends and especially not a lot of really good friends and even my really good friends I can’t trust. I’ve been called a slut since 3r grade not because I actually do anything bad (I’m a Virgin) but I rally don’t know but I let people joke about it wither but it really hurts. I crave guys attention cause when a guy notices me I feel good about myself for a second. It’s like I really am addicted to attention from guys. Â I’m just so confused and broken and I’m hurt and I just want to fix it. I want to attempt suicide so badly but I don’t want to die and I just want to show people how much I really amhurting. Some call it a cry for attention but I don’t want attentions just want help. I want to get diagnosed and treated for depression but I don’t know how to. I want to attempt suicide but not die. I’m just a mess and in falling apart and I dont know what to do
Domestic relations picked up my dad today, he hasn’t payed child support in 6 months.Â I love my dad even though he picked drugs over me and my family. Now he’s supposedly “clean”Â I don’t believe it but whatever. My mom hates my dad. The bench warrant guy told my mom if he doesn’t pay child support by august 1st he will have to see the judge.Â I hope this happens, he will be put in jail. Right now in Pennsylvania he has seven warrants for his arrest. he would be so much safer in jail then out here. If he gets put away it will take so much off my mind. He has been homeless for a while renting rooms, never has health insurance. He needs to go instead of hiding or running from it. He doesn’t realize the effect it will have in the long run.
I’m done. Nothing I do is ever enough, and it never will be. My entire life has been one big failure after another, and I am so tired of trying.
Funny thing is, if you saw me on the street, you’d never know my life is a living hell. I’m “happy.” People are forever telling me how “strong” I am, blah blah blah, but I’m NOT. I just put on a good face. I go through the motions of daily life, but inside, I’m screaming.
Why do I want to die? Ha! Take your pick of reasons-I’ve got plenty of ’em! Let’s start with a little history, though.
My folks got divorced when I was nine. I was actually relieved-my mother was a raging crazy *****, and she was all too happy to leave us kids behind. My sister “Ann” was broken up about it, but then again, she could get emotional about a song dropping off the Top 40, lol. My oldest sister, “Toni,” decided that it was her job to “take over where Mom left off.” Yeah…that didn’t work out so well. Rather bizarre, to be honest-she turned into a narcissist almost overnight. Guess who her favorite target was? Yep-that would be me. Toni absolutely could not allow me to be “better” at anything than she was, and so spent the next few years making damn sure I knew I was useless, ugly, untalented, stupid, etc, etc, ad nauseam.
Dad was always at work. Not his fault-he was trying to raise three kids with no child support. When he was home, he was really the most awesome father a kid could ever want. No complaints there, except that I couldn’t really talk to Dad. Again, though, not his fault-I couldn’t really talk to ANYBODY. Oh, well.
So, anyway…at age eleven, I was molested by my 28 year old half brother. Couldn’t tell Dad, because Dad would have killed him and gone to prison for it. Couldn’t tell anybody, because I didn’t want to be taken from my dad, and that’s exactly what would have happened-we lived in a very backwards place, where a single father raising three girls was automatically a bad person. So I kept my mouth shut. The abuse continued for about a year, until I finally got ballsy enough to fight back. I woke my half brother up in the middle of the night with a razor sharp knife laid across his prick and told him if he ever so much as looked at me again, I’d cut it off. He believed me, apparently.
During all this time, I should point out, I had no friends. None. Not even one. We were dirt poor, and even our relatives despised us. You know the type of people who hate you because you wear the wrong shoes? Yeah, I got a whole family full of those. Add in that we weren’t religious, racist, or homophobic, and you’ve got yourself a family of outcasts. God, growing up was so much fun!
Anyway…my sisters bailed out on Dad when I was twelve, and went to go live with Mom. I tried living with Mom, too-I dunno, I just felt like I should give her a chance. I lasted about six months with her, and couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, I’m just really not that goddamn shallow. Mom’s idea of “being a good mother” was to try to buy me off, bribe me with stuff, etc. “If you do such-&-such, I’ll take you to the mall.” No, thanks.
I moved back with Dad. He had a stroke, and had to quit working. He had another stroke about a year later, when I was fourteen. I managed to convince the school board to allow me to test out so I could go to work and take care of Dad. From the age of fourteen on up, I was Dad’s ONLY caretaker. I took him to doctors’ appointments and check-ups, Social Security hearings, the whole nine yards. I managed the household budget, kept up the housework, cooked his meals and washed his clothes and forced him to take baths and everything else. I sat in the hospital with him all night when he was sick, and went to work the next day.
I’m not complaining about that part of my life. I wouldn’t trade a minute of that time for anything. But it put me in a perfect position to be victimized again, and sure as shit, I was. At eighteen, I hooked up with what I thought was a decent guy. HA!!! He was a complete psychopath. Too bad I didn’t realize that until I was already pregnant. His favorite torture method for me was to keep me locked in the bedroom and taunt me by telling me how hungry my dad must be getting since he couldn’t cook for himself. He also liked to tell me that if I miscarried or had an abortion or gave the kid up for adoption, he’d kill Dad. I believed him. I was forced to give birth to a child I didn’t want, and then forced to stay with a raging lunatic who liked to detail all the new and amusing ways he could kill the baby and make it look like an accident, or, better yet, my fault.
Dad had a heart attack one morning after walking to the bank on his own (five miles). A cop showed up and told me about it. I saw a chance to get out without my crazy boyfriend being able to stop me, and I took it. I rode up to Lexington in the back of an ambulance with nothing but the clothes on my back and five bucks in my pocket, planning to somehow go back and rescue the baby. In three days, though,my ex had filed for custody of the baby saying I abandoned him with no food, no clothes, etc. I really should have known he’d pull a stunt like that.
In a couple of weeks, I had an apartment and a job, and got a letter in the mail saying I needed to pay child support. A couple of days after that, I got another letter, saying my child was dead. My ex wouldn’t tell me anything-not even where he was buried.
Fast forward a bit. I met my husband at work, got married, had a daughter. Dad died when I was 22. I managed to cope, I think. Neither of my sisters even bothered to send a card, but I was used to that kind of crap by then.
We had a reasonably normal life for a while. When my daughter was seven, we had another child, a little boy. At the same time, my husband lost the use of his hands. No idea what happened-he simply couldn’t grasp things or hold anything that weighed more than a couple of ounces. So, there went his job, our health insurance, and our home. Poof. Three months after my son was born, we were homeless and couchsurfing.
It’s been one thing after another pretty much since then. My son is autistic. We got a new place, and three months later, a gas pipe exploded and we lost everything. We struggled back from that disaster, only to get hit with another, and another, and another. We bought a house, and then our car broke down and we couldn’t get to work. No job, no house. It’s been crazy. My daughter was being bullied so badly in school, we decided to homeschool her and my son. That worked great, until we lost the house and ended up moving back “home” to Lexington. Lo and behold, during the rush to secure housing again and find jobs and everything else, we screwed up the kids’ paperwork. Â We also got screwed three more times on housing-twice by “friends” who wanted us as roomies, and once by a sociopathic landlady. The next thing we know, we’re in court for educational and medical neglect, our kids end up with relatives, and now on top of trying to scratch and claw our way back on our feet, we’re fighting CPS, too.
So, here I am. I just found out today that we’re not able to pay the rent. Keeping a place to live is part of our “case plan” with CPS to get our kids back, so if we lose our place, we lose our rights to our kids. We have a home inspection tomorrow morning, and because we don’t have a car and my husband’s job is thirty miles away, my husband may not make it here i time-another strike against our chances of getting our kids back. But the final straw is that I just found out that my first child not only isn’t dead, I owe sixteen years’ worth of child support for him. I’m probably going to prison. There’s no way my family will ever be together again. We’ve done EVERYTHING we’ve been asked to do, but none of it matters. I give up. I’m done. My kids will never get to come home. My husband will be better off without me. I can’t think of a single thing I have to look forward to except more damn bad luck.
I don’t know if I’m gonna off myself. Hell, I’m too broke to buy a gun, and I can’t even afford a bottle of sleeping pills. I could just wait and die naturally anyway-I’ve got a pretty good reason to believe I have cancer now, on top of everything else. So, here I am. Waiting to see what tomorrow brings, and trying to decide if I should just end it. I mean, really, how much MORE am I supposed to take?
I just wanted to let you guys know that my ex-husband killed himself and the investigators found this website on his hard drive. He did it the exact same way he said he would on here too. He lit himself on fire on our front lawn and then shot himself after about 5 minutes. How am I supposed to pay for myself and the kids now? He withdrew all the money and spent it on god knows what and his life insurance policy was cancelled. Now the 5k a month I was getting in child support and alimony is gone. And nobody here tried to stop him. Just encouragement. His username was Quad Dingle or something stupid. Fuck him. He never had time for me and was always working. How am I supposed to support his kids now? He bailed out on his obligation to pay for me and them because of you people. Thanks a lot. And now everyone is traumatized because they saw him burning on our front lawn. He didn’t even make a sound. Just a wicked smile as his flesh burned. Maybe this website will go the way of the good for nothing ex-husband soon.
My name is Jessica. I am 13 years old and I’m a very sad person. I’ve hurt loved ones, been hurt, and been abandon by the only people I’ve trusted.
When I was 6, my parents split up. It was a very hard time for my brother and I. He was only 8. I don’t really remember much, just one day I came home from school and my father told me that if he and my mom got into one more fight, he was leaving us. The following day, he kept his word. They worked out custody and all that, and I lived with my mom and my dad got to see my brother and I whenever my mom allowed him to, as long as he payed child support. I used to see him about every other weekend, during the holidays and spend all summer with him. Now, I don’t visit him much. There’s a sadness in my heart from where he was been torn out. Sorrow. Despair. My mom tried to replace him for me with her boyfriend, but he hit me. I’ve hated him every since.
When I was in 6th grade, my friend, Cailey, told me a secret: she cut herself. She told me that it takes the pain away. I took that to my knowledge, kept in mind, and remember that the next time I got hurt, to try to cut. Â I had a boyfriend, at the time, Leighton. He made me so happy, feel so free. Then one day, it all came crashing down and he broke up with me. So, I cut. Out of curiousity. Sadness. Hurt. I did not like it though. I didn’t touch another blade for months.
After my relationship ending with Leighton, I met a guy named Jedd. Sweet, kind guy. I knew I wouldn’t have the same feelings I did for Leighton, but I figured it was worth a shot. As I grew closer to Jedd, I learned secrets about himself and his family. He and his brother smoked weed. I did not have a problem with this, because I didn’t think it was a big deal. I mean, I’ve heard of people smoking, drinking, having a good time. We were young, so why did it matter then?
I was sitting at home with my friend, when I got a phone call from Jedd’s brother. He invited my friend and I to meet him down the street to smoke. I agreed and we met up with him. I smoked, as well as Jedd’s brother and his friend, but not my friend. That was the first time I had ever felt alive. Nothing was wrong. I was so high up, nothing could touch me. I was finally free from everything.
Then about a month or so later, Jedd and I broke up because I kissed another boy while I was with him. I did not feel that quilty, though I should have. But the boy I kissed, I had always had some feelings for since I first saw him. Love at first sight, I guess you could say. His name was Che. We started talking more, and he was so loving and sweet. I felt as if he was my bestfriend, that I could tell him anything. He asked me out and I said yes.
I fell hard and fast for this boy, Che. My whole world revolved around him. By this time, it was almost the end of my 6th grade year. When summer came around, I was proud to say he was my first love. I would have never traded anything for him. He was my world and as long as I had him, nothing else seemed to matter. But Che smoked pot as well. He wasn’t so into it at first but the deeper and deeper I got into him, the more he told me. He started smoking a lot. It still didn’t bother me.
On July 16th, 2011, age 12, I lost my virginity to Che. Some may say I’m a whore, I don’t care. I loved him. It wasn’t very special though. 4 other people were in the room.
Then, when my 7th grade year started, August of 2011, everything went down hill. I cheated on him. He would avoid me at school. I sent him nude pictures and his mom saw them and called the police. All charges were dropped, thank God, but it still scares me of what could have happened. Everyone at school called me a whore, a cutter, slut, *****. Anything, you name it, I was it.
In late September, my mother ended up finding out I had sex with Che, about me cutting and myself smoking weed. I was grounded for about a month and my mom worried about me a lot. My mom didn’t seem to care if I still saw Che, but Che’s mom did. She did not want me to even talk to him. But we found our ways because I still loved him & always will. But I still did cut myself. It was my only way to escape. Feel free.
Early November, I cheated on Che again with a 15 year old. I had sex with him and the cops got involved because of his dad. Once again, all charges were dropped. I’m not the kind of girl that sleeps around. That was a one time thing and at the time, I had no contact with Che so I felt lonely.
Che found out and broke up with me. I was heart broken. I didn’t know what to do, so I cut. Everyday I would sit in my room and cry and cut myself. For months, this with on to become a daily routine. I convinced myself that I WAS a whore, to believe anything anyone said about me or to me. I felt as if no one wanted me and no one cared. I tried to commit suicide 4 times, each time failing, obviously. I just wanted all the pain to end, no matter where it took me. Just to stop it.
A couple of months later, early Feb., I realized I cannot let this pain go on, so I found methods to get over Che. Drew away pictures, getting rid of anything that reminded me of him. It worked. But I was still suicidal. My mom put me in counseling, which I thought was a stupid idea. I still, to this day, think it is.
I have now found a new happiness; his name is Logan. I do love him, I do. But I hope if we breakup, I will know how to cope better than I did with mine and Che’s breakup. I would never do anything to hurt Logan, I’ve learned my lesson.
I am currently still in counseling, but no longer suicidal. I still cut, rarely, but it happens. I have reminders marked all over my body of who I used to be & who I am slowly changing into. I stopped smoking weed, as well. Things have gotten better, yes, but I still wonder who I would be if all the shit I went though would not have happened. There is not a day that passes that I regret a thing. Maybe things could have been better, but at the time, that was what I wanted. Everything happens for a reason and you only live once.
I’m trying to live life to the fullest with my new love, Logan. If you would like to know me better or have any questions, feel free to add me on facebook, or youtube, or ask me anything on tumblr. I’m always here to help;
If you need someone to talk to, please, I’m here. I want to save lives because I know what it’s like to have no one. <3
For the past two years my life has been completely screwed over because of the sickest most evil selfish woman i have ever had the misfortune to meet. We had a beautiful baby girl togeather. Afterwards when I signed the birth cert she said to me “hah, now youre gonna pay” but I only realised after she kicked me out three weeks later that she only wanted me as a means of having a kid and when I signed the birth cert she could then feel free to kick me out of the house and take me to court and try to get as much money from me in child support as she could. All this time she has also tried to keep me away from my kid. I have missed my girl growing… she is now 17 months old. Life has become extremely lacklustre…. I dont find enjoyment in anything. Society is geared up to help women with kids and dads are kicked to the wayside… like we are harvested by women so that they can have kids and then charge us and marginilize us from our kids (I thought it was going to be a happy ending, I wanted to be a dad). I reckon that we all die in the end anyway so why not just cut to the chase and end it?
I have to put up with some dickhead at work that condescends to me all the time. That too makes me feel like shit.
I just want a way out.
My problem now is that I want a way to do it that will be quick but I am afraid of what comes after. I dont want to be in this life anymore but I am scared to die so I try to convince myself that when we die we are 100% unconscious so we have no realisation of the fact that we cease to exist.
I just want out so badly. I feel like shit the whole time. I feel pathetic and shit.
… and the end game is near. It’s like walking into a cave and it keeps getting darker and narrower. I started coming to this conclusion close to a year ago. Like so many others, I had a decent and comfortable life that was turned upside down by the global economic meltdown. I’ve met adversity before and it does not scare me – I’m kind of a “roll with the punches” kind of guy.
A little background for you all – I’ve been married and divorced 3 times – 2 kids – a girl and a boy, each with a different mother. The girl is an adult and just had her own child so now I am a grandfather – she lives local to me and our relationship has ups and downs. Â The boy live 800 miles away and will be 17 or 18 in a few months – I haven’t seen him since he was 12.
Both kids were effectively raised by their respective moms. I had regular interaction with my girl on weekends. And I paid my child support as best as possible as situations permitted.
I am on the downhill side of 40’s, I have chronic medical issues and where once I had a nice office job, some ill-timed decisions and financial/business failures have left me working a physical labor job that got me through college when, in fact, my body really is no longer capable of doing so (well – it is, but it hurts – a lot). My home is in foreclosure (like many others) – so I am “squatting”. And my work truck just died.
So – to wrap it all together – My truck is dead so I can no longer work my job, I had to be careful driving because my license was suspended for no payment of child support that was ordered paid at a rate when I earned 5 times what I do today and even though I requested relief several times from the courts, it was not granted. But none of it matters if I can’t drive to do my job to make money to even TRY to pay. Additionally, no truck means no job, no money, no medicines, no food, no dog food, no utilities, etc, etc, etc adÂ nausea
Blah Blah – poor me … NOT! Shit happens! But with the truck failure – I’ve run out of options – that’s why I’m here … I have fought off SO many tiring battles and always try to smile and take the next step forward positively. I’m weary, I hurt physically. and I’m sad that I will fail my dogs. my dogs keep me going but I don’t think I can get past this Â latest hurdle.
I’m out of options – I ran the race, I fought the fights, some won some lost, but always with honor and fairness even though my foes were not. So unless there is a miracle from the God I really don’t believe in, I don’t know how to take another step – which is strange for me because I’ve somehow endured so much – but I guess like the “Unsinkable” Titanic, flooding one too many compartments WILL cause catastrophic failure.
So, I don’t really feel sorry for myself – it just “is what it is” – My “bus trip” will hopefully be executed successfully with no fanfare or rituals – I’ll just be “done” I already have a chronicle/note to tie up my affairs and instructions for the dogs. As “deadRight” says, I can take my “dirt nap” and maybe finally have no more physical pain or worry for what comes next.
Until then – I’m here to help if I can. Â Stay positive and don’t give up until there areÂ absolutelyÂ no other options 🙂