mdh321
11-05-2014, 02:13 AM
I grew up in Amesbury, MA in a small ranch house. It was a modest lifestyle, but we had food on the table a roof over our head. In the long run that's really all that matters. My best friend lived across the street which was conveinent. Ironically we met in school, not because we were neighbors. In kindergarten, he came up to me and began grabbing my backpack and saying "That's my backpack." He went on to try to take many more things, subsequently saying "That's my, whatever it was." I got really devensive but then realized he was joking around. I then knew this guy was going to be my friend. I believe having my friend around most of my adolescence allowed me to be more outgoing. That would soon change. My father called me motormouth because I never stopped talking. Everything fascinated me. I loved school, but hated the act of going to it. I asked multiple times if I could be homeschooled.
Then around fith grade, puberty struck. I became shy. I went from an extrovert to an introvert in a matter of months. I have many fond memories of my childhood, yet I cant remember what I did last week.
I spent from the age of about seven to the age of fourteen, working on the weekends and after school. We were building our house that I currently lived in. We had to fit in time any way we could, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Drawbacks delayed us and it took us seven times longer to build than it does the average house. Its a very nice house. We would spend, at the age of 10, twelve hour days putting down flooring, putting up drywall, laying down shingles. It was rough. My father was a rough man. He was very harsh and wasnt afraid of raising his hand at us, and on many occassions laying that hand across our face or anywhere he could hit us. The physical pain is temporary, the emotional scars he left are not.
At the age of fourteen, we finally moved into the house. This is when things went horribly awry. My father was accussed to have child porn on his computer at work. He was a civilian working for the coast guard. He repaired ships and even worked on George Bush seniors boat with the secret service agents standing guard. Anyways, he was obviously fired. That wasnt the worst of it, though. The next day, the Boston Globe as well as the local times released their paper with an article about my father. I nearly fainted. My father became a person I never seen before. It was the first time I had seen him with tears in his eyes. My parents told me I did not have to go to school the next day. I thought, well that will make me stand out like a sore thumb. Im going to school. As I said I loved school, I just hated the social interaction.
The next day I got on the bus and went. We would sit in the school cafeteria before school, waiting for the bell to ring. I walked in, it was packed. The entire student body went silent and stared at me. I put my head down and quickly walked to my seat. I should have stayed home, I thought. That day, and every day after that were the beginnings of harsh times ahead.
I began walking around the woods every day after school. I found that I could only find some peace in the solitude of nature. I watched foxes stalk their prey, listened to the birds chirp. Hell, I watched the trees grow. I could only find contentment when I was alone. At peace laying on the ground in fall, feeling the wind blow over me. I would close my eyes and try to still my mind. This is natural, I thought.
One day when I was fifteen, I walked to the jewish boys camp that was a few minutes down the road. I found, in the woods between the street and the cabins, a bottle of blackberry brandy. I knew people drank it, and it made them more social. I thought hell, I could use that. I ran to my house and quickly up to my room. I guzzled it down in a matter of an hour or so. Man, was I drunk. I layed on my bed, couldnt get up. A grin sat upon my face and I did not know why. This is great, I thought. My dad was an alcoholic, so I had easy access to booze after that. He had an entire fridge out in the garage stock full of beer. Years old beer that is. He had quit drinking for the time being. So I would go to the fridge at night, grab few beers, and in the morning before school Id drink two or three. About an hour into school, Id run to the bathroom and proceed to throw up. I got caught on a couple occassions, but they just assumed i was sick and send me home.
The next year I began smoking marijuana, and that led to daily use. Id smoke before school, at lunch, and after school. And of course before bed. I still got good grades though. As I said I loved learning, I just hated the social interaction.
Anyways I graduated highschool shortly after turning eighteen. I failed college because I wouldnt go, my anxiety got the best of me. I lost my job because I began using other drugs. Cocaine, presciption opiates, anything really. I once threw a party, and not by intention forty or fifty people showed up. Lets just say I made a fool of myself, messed up the house, and then my parents came home. It actually went better than I thought it would.
I knew I needed change. I need discipline. I joined the Marines. March of 2007 I was flown to Parris Island, South Carolina. I was in for the most intense experience of my lifetime. And Ive been to jail. Nothing tops Parris Island recruit training. I should have known better, with my anxiety and all.
July 1st, 2007 I graduate recruit training. I was a Marine. I had done it. How, I dont know. I just pushed myself. When things were getting way too intense, I just took myself out of the experience. My body pushed on, but my mind drifted off. It seemed as if I was looking down on myself from above. Watching this person do this training, but that was me. Little did I know that this was a sign of a mental disorder to come.
I had ten day of leave, then flew back to North Carolina to Camp Geiger. When you join the military, you have to take a test called the ASVAB which is an aptitude test. I scored almost as high as you could. My recruiter said I could sign up for bio-chemical engineering if I wanted. I said screw that, I want to be a badass. Lets go infantry....Wrong choice.
About two weeks into the School of Infantry, I was done. I had blown out my back with all the carrying and marching we were doing. We would regularly put 75ibs to 85ibs of gear on our backs, with our 8ib rifle in our hands and march five to ten miles. I couldnt handle the stress. I was given a medical discharge and shipped home. They took care of some of my problems, but as you know the VA does not have a good system in place. I was put on 120mg of oxycontin a day, as well as 60mg of percocet to take when needed. Well, with my addictive personality, that quickly became much more. A little less than a year in, I was taken off my meds and thrown out the door. They had known I was regularly abusing my meds, and they werent having that.
I thought I was dying. The feeling you get all over your body when withdrawing from opiates is one that can only be experienced, I cannot describe it. Its as if hundreds of thousands of tiny invisible spiders are crawling up and down my body. I was cold, but I was sweating profusely. I couldnt take a shower because as soon as I turned the water off, the air would hit me and I would shake uncontrollably. It was the worst feeling. I needed help. I found herion.
It was cheap, and it didnt take much to give you a good feeling. I maintained myself, trying not to take more than necessary to keep my mind and body at ease. I managed to get a job and live a fairly normal lifestyle, besides the drug use. Not to mention it helped my anxiety somewhat. I could at least carry on a normal conversation. This was great, because I was nineteen, almost twenty, and I met a girl. She became the love of my life. For once, I was happy.
We were together through thick and thin. I thought, this is the girl Im going to marry, and she felt the same way about me. I went through some hard times with her. My nana died, who I loved dearly. When I was 20, my father was accused of molesting my niece, and he know sits in prison. He has done 8 years, and I believe has nine more. He'll probably die in there, hes not in good health. But my life is better without him dragging us down. I dont talk to him nor do I associate with him. Thats not my father, I say.
Anyways, my relationship with this girl lasted three years. We had one of those love-hate relationships, with a lot of yelling and a lot of passion. Looking back it probably wasnt the healthiest of relationships, but I loved her. Though I havent talked to her in four years. I learned a lot from that relationship, and Im definitely a more calm, friendly person now. Ive had many relationships since, but I often get bored and leave, so I dont persue it now. If the right person came along Id be willing, but Id take it much more slow.
Since then, Ive been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and several anxiety disorders including social anxiety disorder, general anxiety disorder, paranoia, a couple other ones. Im on medications which help immensely, but I have my good days and bad days, mostly bad days. Im used to it though. My troubles in the past have thicken my skin, Im a much stronger person now.
I hope you have taken something away from it. Take your time in making decisions, think about the consequences. The choices you make now will affect your entire future. Not just what happens to you, but the person you become. You have to live with that person for the rest of your life. Trust me, having a constant battle going on in your head all the time is not fun. Its no way to live. They say life is too short, I say life is too long. You have plenty of time to achieve your goals. Rushing into things without thinking can severely affect your future and your outlook on life.
Then around fith grade, puberty struck. I became shy. I went from an extrovert to an introvert in a matter of months. I have many fond memories of my childhood, yet I cant remember what I did last week.
I spent from the age of about seven to the age of fourteen, working on the weekends and after school. We were building our house that I currently lived in. We had to fit in time any way we could, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Drawbacks delayed us and it took us seven times longer to build than it does the average house. Its a very nice house. We would spend, at the age of 10, twelve hour days putting down flooring, putting up drywall, laying down shingles. It was rough. My father was a rough man. He was very harsh and wasnt afraid of raising his hand at us, and on many occassions laying that hand across our face or anywhere he could hit us. The physical pain is temporary, the emotional scars he left are not.
At the age of fourteen, we finally moved into the house. This is when things went horribly awry. My father was accussed to have child porn on his computer at work. He was a civilian working for the coast guard. He repaired ships and even worked on George Bush seniors boat with the secret service agents standing guard. Anyways, he was obviously fired. That wasnt the worst of it, though. The next day, the Boston Globe as well as the local times released their paper with an article about my father. I nearly fainted. My father became a person I never seen before. It was the first time I had seen him with tears in his eyes. My parents told me I did not have to go to school the next day. I thought, well that will make me stand out like a sore thumb. Im going to school. As I said I loved school, I just hated the social interaction.
The next day I got on the bus and went. We would sit in the school cafeteria before school, waiting for the bell to ring. I walked in, it was packed. The entire student body went silent and stared at me. I put my head down and quickly walked to my seat. I should have stayed home, I thought. That day, and every day after that were the beginnings of harsh times ahead.
I began walking around the woods every day after school. I found that I could only find some peace in the solitude of nature. I watched foxes stalk their prey, listened to the birds chirp. Hell, I watched the trees grow. I could only find contentment when I was alone. At peace laying on the ground in fall, feeling the wind blow over me. I would close my eyes and try to still my mind. This is natural, I thought.
One day when I was fifteen, I walked to the jewish boys camp that was a few minutes down the road. I found, in the woods between the street and the cabins, a bottle of blackberry brandy. I knew people drank it, and it made them more social. I thought hell, I could use that. I ran to my house and quickly up to my room. I guzzled it down in a matter of an hour or so. Man, was I drunk. I layed on my bed, couldnt get up. A grin sat upon my face and I did not know why. This is great, I thought. My dad was an alcoholic, so I had easy access to booze after that. He had an entire fridge out in the garage stock full of beer. Years old beer that is. He had quit drinking for the time being. So I would go to the fridge at night, grab few beers, and in the morning before school Id drink two or three. About an hour into school, Id run to the bathroom and proceed to throw up. I got caught on a couple occassions, but they just assumed i was sick and send me home.
The next year I began smoking marijuana, and that led to daily use. Id smoke before school, at lunch, and after school. And of course before bed. I still got good grades though. As I said I loved learning, I just hated the social interaction.
Anyways I graduated highschool shortly after turning eighteen. I failed college because I wouldnt go, my anxiety got the best of me. I lost my job because I began using other drugs. Cocaine, presciption opiates, anything really. I once threw a party, and not by intention forty or fifty people showed up. Lets just say I made a fool of myself, messed up the house, and then my parents came home. It actually went better than I thought it would.
I knew I needed change. I need discipline. I joined the Marines. March of 2007 I was flown to Parris Island, South Carolina. I was in for the most intense experience of my lifetime. And Ive been to jail. Nothing tops Parris Island recruit training. I should have known better, with my anxiety and all.
July 1st, 2007 I graduate recruit training. I was a Marine. I had done it. How, I dont know. I just pushed myself. When things were getting way too intense, I just took myself out of the experience. My body pushed on, but my mind drifted off. It seemed as if I was looking down on myself from above. Watching this person do this training, but that was me. Little did I know that this was a sign of a mental disorder to come.
I had ten day of leave, then flew back to North Carolina to Camp Geiger. When you join the military, you have to take a test called the ASVAB which is an aptitude test. I scored almost as high as you could. My recruiter said I could sign up for bio-chemical engineering if I wanted. I said screw that, I want to be a badass. Lets go infantry....Wrong choice.
About two weeks into the School of Infantry, I was done. I had blown out my back with all the carrying and marching we were doing. We would regularly put 75ibs to 85ibs of gear on our backs, with our 8ib rifle in our hands and march five to ten miles. I couldnt handle the stress. I was given a medical discharge and shipped home. They took care of some of my problems, but as you know the VA does not have a good system in place. I was put on 120mg of oxycontin a day, as well as 60mg of percocet to take when needed. Well, with my addictive personality, that quickly became much more. A little less than a year in, I was taken off my meds and thrown out the door. They had known I was regularly abusing my meds, and they werent having that.
I thought I was dying. The feeling you get all over your body when withdrawing from opiates is one that can only be experienced, I cannot describe it. Its as if hundreds of thousands of tiny invisible spiders are crawling up and down my body. I was cold, but I was sweating profusely. I couldnt take a shower because as soon as I turned the water off, the air would hit me and I would shake uncontrollably. It was the worst feeling. I needed help. I found herion.
It was cheap, and it didnt take much to give you a good feeling. I maintained myself, trying not to take more than necessary to keep my mind and body at ease. I managed to get a job and live a fairly normal lifestyle, besides the drug use. Not to mention it helped my anxiety somewhat. I could at least carry on a normal conversation. This was great, because I was nineteen, almost twenty, and I met a girl. She became the love of my life. For once, I was happy.
We were together through thick and thin. I thought, this is the girl Im going to marry, and she felt the same way about me. I went through some hard times with her. My nana died, who I loved dearly. When I was 20, my father was accused of molesting my niece, and he know sits in prison. He has done 8 years, and I believe has nine more. He'll probably die in there, hes not in good health. But my life is better without him dragging us down. I dont talk to him nor do I associate with him. Thats not my father, I say.
Anyways, my relationship with this girl lasted three years. We had one of those love-hate relationships, with a lot of yelling and a lot of passion. Looking back it probably wasnt the healthiest of relationships, but I loved her. Though I havent talked to her in four years. I learned a lot from that relationship, and Im definitely a more calm, friendly person now. Ive had many relationships since, but I often get bored and leave, so I dont persue it now. If the right person came along Id be willing, but Id take it much more slow.
Since then, Ive been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and several anxiety disorders including social anxiety disorder, general anxiety disorder, paranoia, a couple other ones. Im on medications which help immensely, but I have my good days and bad days, mostly bad days. Im used to it though. My troubles in the past have thicken my skin, Im a much stronger person now.
I hope you have taken something away from it. Take your time in making decisions, think about the consequences. The choices you make now will affect your entire future. Not just what happens to you, but the person you become. You have to live with that person for the rest of your life. Trust me, having a constant battle going on in your head all the time is not fun. Its no way to live. They say life is too short, I say life is too long. You have plenty of time to achieve your goals. Rushing into things without thinking can severely affect your future and your outlook on life.