How life sucks.

I'm glad you can't cuss. Your really to young to use language like that.

Look, your on a public board telling us this. We need more information.

No we will never, ever have your feelings and know exactly how you feel.


But, I can Guarantee that the adults on this thread have been through just about everything and believe it or not we can help you.

[edit on 1-5-2007 by Shar]

The thing is that if you would just say what is on your mind I'm sure you could find plenty of people that have gone through whatever it is that you are going through. If you truely want to get through this obstacle in your life, just open up and tell everyone what's bothering you.

One more thing.............

Yes people that don't really know you can care.

See thats the frigign thing, i can texplain it. Theres no words for this insecurity and pain, unless you could cuss im sure theres a word. I cant tlak baout it, and yes i do cuss and when you were young everytihng was different then, now the world is friggin complex and shizzit.

There are alot of adults on this board who've been exactly where you are right now, my freind. I'm one of them.

Calm down and tell us what you think is causing your insecurities and anger. We'll listen...and who knows maybe we can help.

Yo bro, i've been through some fu%^ed up s*** in the last 2 years. Seriously man, you wouldn't believe. I can't walk down the street without getting stares from random people. I literally had to relocate.. I have noone and nothing where I am.. I have not one friend. I have not one goal to succeed where i'm at.. Well, neither at my last place.. I've been labeled, i've been pushed around, i've had my teeth kicked in (not literally), i've been to hell, and i'm not back yet.. I come on this site to seek nothing but words from other random people in this world.. I'm nothing but another stick in the woods, as you are too. I've tried things, but they've never worked out for me.. Hell, I can't even take my own life wihtout failing at something.. I'm still here, and I have to deal with it.. I guess I feel my only reason for being at this point is to support others in need. I'm not going to tell you to get better. Because I know of a posotion your in, and that's mine.. I don't know your story and you don't know mine.. Oh man, I only wish I would share mine.. But it would be too much of a risk.. NOt for you, but for me.. I really really don't know what to say man.. I've been told by many people online here at ats, to find a higher power.. You know what I got to say about that? Half the time when I even hear that it just pisses me off.. The times i've tried, it never worked out, or I failed at it.. So just to let you know bro, i'm living proof that there is another out there like you.. Hell, you could be some snob who's just trying to get attnetion online a random site, I don't know.. But i'm not going to take any chances.. And i'll let you know this, slow suicide is no way to go... And carrying on like this is slow suicide, do something in your own way to fix this s***.. I'm trying, so i'm going to make you try too. And to lighten the mood after saying all of this crap, which you will probably blow off and say doesn't matter because i've never been in your shoes, ..You get the twisty head smiley.. Why? Because that's how everything seems at times, your world is upside down and it's spinning...And, the banana guy..WHy? Not sure, he just looks funny. And remember bro, i'm here.. So DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT! Hesitate to talk to me... It's what i'm good at, listening.. Goodluck man, it's a hard life..

OH, i've also been to couselors and psycologists, they only repeat your life in a different format.. The only true psycologists out there, are people who are in similiar situations as you..

Independant Loser, it sounds like you've led a pretty hard life, and you're in a pretty bad place right now. It sucks when your only friend lives an hour a way, and you don't even know if they feel the same way about you that you do of them. And all people want to do is tell you you need counseling, and every counselor you see tries the same old crap.

But you said you don't want to talk about your problems, so I won't bore you with questions. You said you want to hear about how much life sucked for other people.

Well, let's see... I was born in one of the worst neighborhoods in Houston, and used to go to sleep listening to gunshots. Some nights the monotony of the bullets popping was broken by two opposing gangs fighting it out on our lawn. Occasionally we'd wake up to find a corpse on the lawn. You couldn't walk down the street even one block in one go if you wanted to hang on to your clothes, shoes, or life. Instead, you had to hop from house to house, cut through known "safe" back yards, and sometimes even that wasn't enough.

Home life was rough. I got beat. A lot. My parents were oldschool like that. I don't mean they gave me spankings, I'm talking about a fist to the face, a crack in the head, sometimes broken bones. Everyone shouted. All the time. The only time people stopped shouting was at dinner time, and that was because there wasn't enough to feed everyone, so we all just got as much as we could, as quick as we could, and those who were too slow didn't eat much.

To make matters worse, I had terrible eyesight since birth. Glasses alleviated the problem to an extent, but when you have 17 diopter astigmatism before you're even 10 years old, you know things aren't going to go well. Contacts were way too expensive for us ghetto folk. No, I got the coke-bottles. Giant windows that gave my face that lovely hourglass figure from the sheer volume of refraction that had to take place.

Let me tell you... a kid with glasses...in the middle of gangland...living in a poverty-stricken abusive home? Oh I had a great childhood. One year my birthday present was a dang cinder block. Painted red. That was it. You want to know what the definition of anger and disappointment is? It's an 8 year old who got a g-ddamned cinder block as his one and only birthday present!!!

When we moved to DFW it only got better, because now I was not only poor, bruised, and wearing coke bottles on my face, but now every friend I had lived hundreds of miles away, and I was transplanted to an upper middle-class school. I was "the poor kid" at first. Then I made the mistake of answering the teacher's questions. Then I was "the poor nerd," which only made my days go even better.

Books were pretty much all I had. I read. A lot. That is till the bullies figured out they could find easier prey around the library. Those got taken away. The next few years were a series of drifting from one hell to another until I was kicked out of the house at 17 and had to live on the charity of friends whose parents would let me crash there. But it always ended the same, eventually I got that speech about how they couldn't raise me, blah blah blah, and it was time I went back home. The fact I couldn't go home because I'd been kicked out was another matter altogether.

Lucky for me, nerds tend to get scholarships. I went to college for a while, but I messed it up, got real sick, and had to get a medical withdrawal. Lived on penny-ante jobs till I met and fell head over heels with a woman. I proposed to her, she accepted, and then when she went home for the summer I was informed by one of her friends that she'd completely nutted out and slept with over 50 guys in a single month. 50 guys. In one month. I don't even know how that's humanly possible. She must have been doing 2 per night some nights. She had Bipolar Disorder II and apparently had a manic episode.
We broke up. She did everything she could to get me back, and I'll be damned, but I eventually did, only to find out the reason she'd gotten back together with me was just to get back $20 I apparently owed her. I lost it. I had a mental breakdown.

Things kinda went out of focus for a while... I moved to Seattle, away from everyone and everything I knew. I wanted nothing more to do with anyone or anything. I hated the world. I hated my family. I hated humanity. If I'd had the ability to throw a switch and destroy the world, I would have...

...but I didn't. Instead, I went out and got a job. I started going to coffee shops, rather than bars. I gradually built up a couple of friends, and very, ever so slowly, reopened dialogue with my parents. In a nutshell, I stopped bitching about the way the world had treated me and decided to grab life by the grunyon. I decided that the world wasn't going to "treat me" any way, that instead, I would tell it how I would treat it. In short, I stopped being a victim, and I started being a man.

Since then, I've reconciled with the parents. I've got a satisfying and stable career. I've got a wife I love with a child on the way, and a house that I take delight in working on and improving. Every day I strive to make myself a better man. Every time I get tempted to blame my hardships on someone or something else, I take a good long look at what I can do about it, and I do something about it.

So I guess the message is, we've all had our bad times. Some worse than others. For all I know, yours is ten times worse than anything I've ever seen. But what really makes a man isn't how well you can portray yourself as a Victim, it's how well you carry yourself as a Survivor.

See that?? Now thats what you call effed up. Me.??? well lets just say for my birthday i had to watch( and mostly hear) my parents fight for a couple of hours over all the problems my dad caused, drugs, money loss( we werent really poor, we had enough to make it through and enough to go to the mall or watch a movie sometimes, but the the bills were too much alone) sometimes my mum would find some of her money or jewelry gone, there would be people i didnt even know coming to our house at different times of the night, and me or my brother might catch him smoking or sniffing, i dont know what he does. Then my mum kicked him out, pushed him out of the house and called the cops on him. I wanted to die, literally die, i might not of really had a bond with my dad per say, he was gone most of the time. But thast anot the only person in my family thats #ed up, my unlcle, an alchohalic:w:, my brother, i mean why not, everyone else does it why not him. my family is falling apart, i dont know why i care, they've never really done anything for me. Except for my mum, shes done so much, but not th ekinda person you would wanna talk about your problems with, i feel better talkin about my problems with other people really, i dont do anything for my birthdasy anymore now,its just a waste of time, and a year closer to death, i should be glad about that though. You know i attempted suicide once, took 4 sleeping pills thought that would do the job, but instead i just woke up really late. I felt stupid after words, there i was thinking about how death would be, but i didnt reach it, not even close.I should have taken more. 6??? or 8?? Maybe thne i would have been dead.I havent been though as much as most people, but its not reallly how bad it is, its how bad you take it, and i cant take it. I dontknow why im feel like this, maybe i have aborder line personality, but i migh tgo even crazier if i knew i was the slightiest bit crazy. I mean N-U-T-S!!!!! MOst of the kids i know here have been through worst and they solve that dilema with pot. If i knew how to stop this feeling then i would but i can, i have no control..what do yo uexpect me to do??? Make myself happpy, well thast stupid, im not happy, only with her, nicole, but i dont know.. Peanutbutter jell ytime peanut butter jelly time, heck yesssssssss

Independent Loser, I hear you. That really sucks about the birthdays.

Alcoholism is a tough nut to crack, especially when you're surrounded by it by so many people who are supposed to be your role models. Eventually you get to thinking that if it was good enough for them, that it's good enough for you. I guess I was lucky in that neither of my parents really did much in the way of drugs or alcohol that I know of. They both smoked cigarettes, but when Dad would lay into one of us with his fists, it was out of anger and real old school discipline, not drunkenness. His brother (my Uncle) though, he was a serious alcoholic, going through 2 liters a day on average. Both my uncles kids turned out bad. Real bad. One later progressed into massive coc aine use to the point he ripped off our grandmother of all her cash, credit cards, jewelry, and car. The other has been in and out of then pen, and has been knocked up with illegitimate children (all of which ended up becoming wards of the state) so many times we eventually just lost count. My uncle also buried three wives, all of whom died under very suspicious circumstances, but none of us really thought to question this till his liver got the better of him and he died as well.

Sometimes it doesn't even take having your father figure be an alcoholic. In college, one of the reasons I got so sick is because I myself was going through about a liter per night. At one point, I was having to buy so much liquor I had to drive down to Mexico every other weekend and fill the trunk with bottles from there, because I couldn't afford my own demand via Texas prices. I have no idea how I avoided becoming a literal alcoholic, but I was absolutely on the borderline. How do you know when you're drinking too much? Well, when you're drinking alone and you drink to get drunk, that's a pretty good indicator. I'm down to about 2oz (about 2 shots worth) per month now, and that's generally a glass of fine scotch for appreciation of the flavor. But keep in mind that nowadays I'm 31 and I don't go to clubs, and parties at my age have ceased to have things like beer bongs and trash can punch.

Suicide is rough. There's no painless way to do it. Taking a bunch of pills is probably one of the most common ways, but most of the time it just makes you hideously sick and you'll just throw it up on your own, sleep it off, or even worse, you go to the hospital and they shove a tube down your throat and pump it out, and you get to face hours of disapproving stares (hospitals hate suiciders. I mean really hate them). What's worse is, sometimes you get a real sadistic effer who makes you go through some of the more painful checkups as a "lesson". As hard a suicide is on the person who commits it, though, it's a lot harder on the mom. I've seen the weakest mom's bear the murder of their only child in stride, and I've seen the strongest mom with her life completely dissolved into ruination from her child committing suicide. I guess it's something about viewing the former as horrible chance, and the latter as a personal failure. I personally at the time coulda cared less about my mother, but really feared screwing up the attempt and forever being "that kid who tried to commit suicide".

I know what got me to actually cease going through with it though. I won't bother with the particulars, because it's a pretty personal story, but afterward I realized that suicide just wouldn't do anyone (including myself) any practical good. I looked at it like this: if there was a god, if I committed suicide, that was a damning offense and I'd burn in hell, which would be far worse than being miserable on Earth. If there was no god at all, and we simply cease to exist after death, then there would be no "great release" from the misery of the world. Indeed, the last memory I would ever have was being in the worst pain of my entire life, and the pointless oblivion afterward would be of no use to me because at that point I wouldn't exist. And if life operated more in line with reincarnation, then if I committed suicide, all I'd do is end up encountering the same exact circumstances in the next life, life after life, until I learned to deal with them in such a way that I could get past them.

That was the big connecting point right there, because I'm more of a reincarnation type person. The idea of living life, after life, after life, of misery until I learned how to deal with it, really kinda hit home, and I decided to deal with my problems head-on, and conquer them.

My biggest problem at first was the family. I solved that by moving as far away from them as possible, but how to do so with no money? A job helped out a lot. Physical labor got my mind off of my own misery. I could focus on lifting sacks of concrete, or bagging groceries, or flipping burgers, or any one of several utter crap menial jobs I had throughout high school and college. I kept myself in school long enough to get a diploma, and tried to keep myself in college, but as I mentioned, that didn't work out so hot. I was really lucky. As a computer geek, I had a marketable skill that didn't require a college education to get a good job during the DotCom Boom. That allowed me to get some professional work experience that eventually (after ten years of working crap independent contracts) got me where I am today with a good permanent job behind a desk. Even then, though, it wasn't always great, good, or even passable. There were a number of times where I had to take whatever horrible job I could get. The worst being an assistant roofer in August in Texas. There's no single worse job than carrying stinking hot bubbling tar along the top of a black surface in 110-120 degree weather. It doesn't wash off, btw, not even with lava soap. You don't lose the stink and sheen of tar until about 2 weeks after your last day of employment.

Anyway, I digress... nowadays, without a college education, I'd still be working awful jobs just starting out, and my marketable computer skills are no longer remotely unique. But you know, I still got some measure of pride from even the most menial job. I could have offed myself at any moment, I could have lived on the charity of others, I could have sat on the sidewalk and spanged, but instead I chose to work and earn my money. I got some time away from the folks, I got some money in the bank, and I got some work experience to carry with me to the next job. Eventually it was enough to get my own place.

Let me tell you, man, there is no greater sense of pride and accomplishment than getting your own place. I started out as most normal people do, with a roomate, but even that felt like I was the King of the Castle (oh boy, I have chair!). After several places and several roommates, I entertained the more lofty goal of my own place without roommates. That was an even bigger source of pride.

Buying a car from a dealership became my next goal. Anyone can buy a car from an individual, some jalopy that might have to be towed in a few weeks, but it takes someone relatively stable and responsible to buy a car from a dealership. When I did that, I was on cloud nine. Of course, alone in an apartment and new car meant I got pretty lonley, so the next goal was to find a girlfriend, then to get a ring to propose to her with, then a house that we could live together in, and so forth.

And between each major goal there were minor ones. Basically, I became very goal-oriented. Every problem I faced was either an obstacle to a goal that I had to adapt to, or was a lesson to learn from. Eventually I just forgot what it was that had made me so miserable, and the few times I remembered, it just didn't really matter that much any more. It was amazing how much more complex and difficult my problems got as life went on. The stuff that would have driven me to the brink of madness 15 years ago would be a trifle compared to what it takes just to get through each day nowadays.

Each difficulty made me a stronger person for it, because I chose to view it as a challenge after a while, rather than an imposition. What ultimately did it, though, was meeting my wife. I only thought I had become a man before I met her, but when I knew that this was the woman I would marry and spend the rest of my life with, I realized I had a lot more growing up to do if I was to be any good at being a husband, father, and head of household. I still to this day find I have more growing up to do, more personal flaws, challenges, and difficulties to overcome, but long gone are the days where suicide or running away from my problems is even an option, much less a preferable one. It really was a lot more rewarding to just stick it out and then have a really good story to tell for it. At least that's how it went for me.

Well, as a result of all this, I eventually earned my father's grudging respect, then full respect, then friendship, etc... I don't know why it was so important for me to earn the respect or friendship of a man who'd made my life a living hell growing up, but no one ever accused life of being logical or sensible. I think we all just learned a lot. Neither of my parents wanted a 3rd child when I was born, and it pretty much stayed that way for 17 years. After I was gone, I think they realize that they wished they'd done a better job as parents. Dad and I reconciled our differences. He apologized for everything he did, as well as a lot of stuff that wasn't his fault. By the time this happened, I had seen enough hardship myself to know what was and wasn't within his control, and I knew that, at 65 with a failing heart and various cancers, he wasn't in a position to repeat physical abuse on me or anyone else at that point.

Nowadays, I fully enjoy his company. He's a good father nowadays, and my mother is downright doting on my wife. I guess it just goes to show that everyone, including parents, have the capacity for change, adaptation, and ultimately, redemption, but only if they live long enough to make it happen.

Here, i'll prescribe you something... And this helped me out the other night.. I felt like exploding on everyone that came my way... Even if it were the elderly or a child.. I wanted to just ******* go to war with the world.. But instead..... I put in a cd to help me release my anger, hate, and frustrations in a healthier manner... MEGADETH!

Forget that last post, if your going to listen to anything, listen to Alice in Chains.. Not only because they're what i'm listening to right now.. But because they have helped me through some rough times.. As cheesy as that seems.. It is right now... And right now, i'm probably the most frightened i've ever been..