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Thread: My Story

  1. #1
    Junior Member
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    Post My Story

    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.

  2. #2
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    Nov 2014
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    Hello everyone. This is my first thread. I thought this might relieve some stress for me, and it did. I couldn't sleep so I spent almost two hours writing it. I am speaking in front of some teenagers next week that are in this program I was in for drug abuse, except the adults and teenagers are separate from each other. I kind of rushed at the end but I still think I got the point across. Im sorry that it is hard to read. I had to edit it down to size. Thank you all.

  3. #3
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    Hi,

    Thanks for the history. It's always fascinating to try and put yourself in someone else's shoes. Even though it's impossible. The basic threads of life and its many interesting pitfalls, cock-ups and gotcha's are the same though for all of us.

    Thanks for taking the time to share.

  4. #4
    Wow! You're such a strong man bro! Salute! Thanks for sharing you story. It's very inspiring.

  5. #5
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    Thank you both for replying. It is very hard to live your life feeling misunderstood when all you need is a bit of empathy. You are right when you say it is hard to put yourself in someone else's shoes. No one can truly know the struggles you've been through that have molded you into the human being you are today. I would just like to get my message across to young ones, and old ones alike. You are not alone in this world. I feel as if I have already been through a life of struggles and hardships, yet I am only 26 years old at the moment. An old soul, is what a lot of people call me.

    I would also like to state that those in the military, mostly the Marines, should no longer be thought of as dumb brutes who like to kill. Instead, I have come across many of those in my journey who were intelligent human beings who needed a sense of purpose.

    The stigma surrounding those with mental disorders needs to be abandoned. Most of those affected by these diseases were not born this way, and instead the cruelty and actions of others and this world around us have made it this way. I do not want to be this way. I just want to be thought of as "normal". I put that door up in front of me as a means of defense. Sometimes people with this disease just need a little help opening that door. Thank you.

  6. #6
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    Quote Originally Posted by mdh321 View Post
    Thank you both for replying. It is very hard to live your life feeling misunderstood when all you need is a bit of empathy. You are right when you say it is hard to put yourself in someone else's shoes. No one can truly know the struggles you've been through that have molded you into the human being you are today. I would just like to get my message across to young ones, and old ones alike. You are not alone in this world. I feel as if I have already been through a life of struggles and hardships, yet I am only 26 years old at the moment. An old soul, is what a lot of people call me.

    I would also like to state that those in the military, mostly the Marines, should no longer be thought of as dumb brutes who like to kill. Instead, I have come across many of those in my journey who were intelligent human beings who needed a sense of purpose.

    The stigma surrounding those with mental disorders needs to be abandoned. Most of those affected by these diseases were not born this way, and instead the cruelty and actions of others and this world around us have made it this way. I do not want to be this way. I just want to be thought of as "normal". I put that door up in front of me as a means of defense. Sometimes people with this disease just need a little help opening that door. Thank you.
    I am a medium, take note of this post (I don't respond to everyone) print it and reread it a million times, act on it.

    Just for you, we begin a reading:

    We want you to move out of the past and into the future. Your father was stuck in the past, his traumas, his beliefs, and I don't want you to fall prey to the insidious way of thinking.

    As you teach others in groups, as you tell your story, always include a vision of the future, and make that vision as clear as you make the past. " I have been through this, but here is where I am today, and this is where I am going, and you can too." Be an example then, not of a battle scarred torn young man that wears his pain like a medal, but of someone who has played a hard deck and a lousy hand and won.

    Thereby the message is hope, and that you understand, but you have not communicated what you have done post trauma, and the kids or the peers you will meet need that example.

    Get therapy, or help if needed (you will know) to release the pain, the false beliefs about who you are and your life thus far, the lies and deceit you tell yourself about you. They are not facts, but the effects of conditioning.

    And begin at once to use your imagination constructively in ways that give hope to a better life, more creativity, fulfillment, love, self worth, esteem...use your imagination playfully to construct an idea of who you wish to be and with whom you wish to be with and love. It is important to dream every day about your soul mate. And make yourself ready for a fully loving relationship by releasing all the crap and sludge inside. Love will heal what's left after some self work is done.

    So get the hell out of the hell, no pun intended, and dream 30 minutes a day before bed of your dream life, vividly, and every aspect of it. Your life thus far has been created in the same way, you see, you have spent much destructive time in your head.. You create your reality.

    The past is a lesson, a tool, you see. For the master builder as a reference point. But it is over, do not relive it every day like a fresh wound.

    With love, from your unseen friends in the universe, given today in hope. All the best on your journey.
    Last edited by Im-Suffering; 11-05-2014 at 08:39 AM.

  7. #7
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    Thank you, I'm-Suffering, for your reply. I appreciate your honesty and criticism. I have revised this paper a couple more times now, and I have no doubt I'll make changes to it several times before I talk to these young ones. I do need to explain to these kids more about how my life has improved because of these negative experiences. I no longer take any drugs, including alcohol, and my mind is no longer bogged down by the false realities these drugs enforce on you. I will tell these kids that patience is a virtue, and I have all the patience in the world. I no longer rush haphazardly into situations, trying to achieve my goals. There are still many, many aspects of my life that need much improvement, but I can tell everyone now that things will not go the way you want them to if you do not take the time to think about what you will do, and what consequences may come of it. Even all the preparation in the world may not make reaching your goals a sure thing, and you should be ready for any outcomes that aren't completely desirable. Having that knowledge will make it easier to deal with in the long run. Thanks!

 

 

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