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If you consider me a friend, please read.
9 years ago
Cheers loves!
Okay, well I was serious about the title, since I know I have quite a few watchers that I don't even know, but it you're staying here anyways, thanks I suppose. This is going to be a rather long journal, since I have a lot of venting to do. I'm sure some of you heard part of this story before but I think it's time I went public and shared my entire story. This is going to be about how my life has gone up to this point and... how I feel about it.
I guess I'll start off from a while back and growing up. It was always just my mother and I, and we usually kept to ourselves. I grew up in daycare until I was old enough to be left alone in the house. The worse of my mental state was my temper, which cooled down with age. I had my brother back then with me too but he left rather quickly. I usually spend my days after school doing my homework then retreating to my room to play video games. It worked back then I suppose, but as I got older, things got worse and worse.
Early middle school is when my depression started to show, though I was none the wiser. I couldn't sleep, I hated just about everyone in the school, and I was pretty lonely. At one point, I think it was in the 7th grade, my aunt picked me up from school from... something... and I ended up mouth off this: "You're family, you're supposed to love me." I don't regret what I said, it's how I felt at the time. I mean it's not like I knew my aunt, and fairly certain she didn't know me either. It was unjustifiable from how I saw things. Later that day, my mom came home and shouted at me for saying that. Again, thought nothing of it and smiled and nodded. Looking back on that, I know what I said was probably wrong... but I don't think my mother really reacted that well. I'm sure it's not just me, but I don't think the response to that was anger.
Later on in middle school, I shut myself in a lot, but no one ever said anything... but I hated everyone in my school the evidently they all hated me. Gym class was torture, because our teacher was never paying attention. I would go from outcast to punching bag, all in front of the teacher, and he never even saw. I had once gotten smacked and shoved to the ground and this bastard was on his damn phone. Later that year, we were kickball... In my efforts to participate, I got ignored and had a little outburst... it was then that another student, much taller, stronger and fit then I was, literally picked me up, and put me to the side. I had never felt so... insignificant. I was literally brushed to the side like a bug. I died inside and ran into the locker room... it was then that I first attempted suicide. I tried to choke myself with a lanyard. I was only stopped when a random student I didn't know well rushed in and took the lanyard away from me. Obviously, the school soon after called my mom, and she picked me up... and this is where that day became the worst day of my life. We didn't talk on the ride home, but she said one thing. "You better not be doing this to get out of school." I don't think I have to explain why those words stung. We went to go pick up a few things, went home... and never spoke of it for years.
Going on to High School, things, probably predictably got worse for me. Lack of sleep really caught on to me here, and my grades were plummeting hard. And that's the only thing my mother ever wanted to talk to me about. School. Now, I understand how important school is, it's how I would survive in this world, regardless of what I learned, it was that sheet of paper you get at the end that made it so important. But back then, I couldn't care. Suicidal thoughts plagued my mind, but as clueless as I was at the time, I bottled them up and thought nothing else of it. This lasted for another year and a half, where I transferred to online school, and actually made some friends... but none of that could help the lack of will to live.
In April, just last year. I attempted suicide once again. I woke up late in the day, feeling like crap and wondering how I was even allowed to sleep in this late. Then I got a call from my mother, who was shouting at me about my grades... and that's when I just had to quit. I left the phone on the desk, went and fetched some of my mom's old meds, and downed 3 handfuls... after that, I left a note on my computer monitor, sent a note to the few friends of mine and apologizing for what I was doing, went upstairs so they wouldn't have to see my corpse... and I tried to sleep. I don't think I had ever felt as peaceful as I did in those moments. But I had taken my phone with me to listen to some YouTube videos, which I always did before sleeping. However, one of my friends messaged me on Skype. They were concerned and against what my better judgement was at the time, I answered, and told them what was up. They coaxed me to call for help, and i teared up, and listened. I called 911, Found the ambulance coming a few minutes after, rejected the pills I took, and was taken to the hospital.
My aunt, same aunt from way back then, was the first to arrive, which made sense, because my mother worked out of town. I hadn't seen anyone cry like that before. And I didn't know what to feel. I just lay still on the bed, waiting for the doctors orders. After that, my mother and her boyfriend came in. First time I've ever seen my mom cry. At the time it was relieving but... looking back at it, I think it's sad it's only point in my life I can say she's ever shown any genuine concern for me. After that, I was put in a mental hospital for a few days and I actually enjoyed it. It was nice to talk with people who knew how I felt and to get some actual help for my depression.
After that episode, things were starting to look up... though this lasted about a few months before we ended up right back at square one. I had even lost my meds because my mother was having trouble with the insurance I guess. I had to go into a new school year exactly as I had before. You can guess how that turned out. Even after my meds though, I slowly lost the ability to care. My mother only talked to me when she needed something or it was about school, and her boyfriend always had something to judge and berate me for. No pill can ever give you a reason to live. It was about then that I officially joined the furry community... And I've been a lot happier ever since, being able to talk to people who were willing to listen. I started to stop caring about my mother and her boyfriend and just... live and think for myself and not care for them. It's how I carried through this school year, with the promise of my own laptop with a tablet so I can start doing digital art.
This is how I make things work now, but... I wish it could have been different. It's too late to fix things... I just want to get a few other opinions on this and come clean with my story. I know it may sound like I'm only bringing out the worse of this but to be honest, I can't really remember anything positive about my family... as much as it pains me to admit.
I guess I'll start off from a while back and growing up. It was always just my mother and I, and we usually kept to ourselves. I grew up in daycare until I was old enough to be left alone in the house. The worse of my mental state was my temper, which cooled down with age. I had my brother back then with me too but he left rather quickly. I usually spend my days after school doing my homework then retreating to my room to play video games. It worked back then I suppose, but as I got older, things got worse and worse.
Early middle school is when my depression started to show, though I was none the wiser. I couldn't sleep, I hated just about everyone in the school, and I was pretty lonely. At one point, I think it was in the 7th grade, my aunt picked me up from school from... something... and I ended up mouth off this: "You're family, you're supposed to love me." I don't regret what I said, it's how I felt at the time. I mean it's not like I knew my aunt, and fairly certain she didn't know me either. It was unjustifiable from how I saw things. Later that day, my mom came home and shouted at me for saying that. Again, thought nothing of it and smiled and nodded. Looking back on that, I know what I said was probably wrong... but I don't think my mother really reacted that well. I'm sure it's not just me, but I don't think the response to that was anger.
Later on in middle school, I shut myself in a lot, but no one ever said anything... but I hated everyone in my school the evidently they all hated me. Gym class was torture, because our teacher was never paying attention. I would go from outcast to punching bag, all in front of the teacher, and he never even saw. I had once gotten smacked and shoved to the ground and this bastard was on his damn phone. Later that year, we were kickball... In my efforts to participate, I got ignored and had a little outburst... it was then that another student, much taller, stronger and fit then I was, literally picked me up, and put me to the side. I had never felt so... insignificant. I was literally brushed to the side like a bug. I died inside and ran into the locker room... it was then that I first attempted suicide. I tried to choke myself with a lanyard. I was only stopped when a random student I didn't know well rushed in and took the lanyard away from me. Obviously, the school soon after called my mom, and she picked me up... and this is where that day became the worst day of my life. We didn't talk on the ride home, but she said one thing. "You better not be doing this to get out of school." I don't think I have to explain why those words stung. We went to go pick up a few things, went home... and never spoke of it for years.
Going on to High School, things, probably predictably got worse for me. Lack of sleep really caught on to me here, and my grades were plummeting hard. And that's the only thing my mother ever wanted to talk to me about. School. Now, I understand how important school is, it's how I would survive in this world, regardless of what I learned, it was that sheet of paper you get at the end that made it so important. But back then, I couldn't care. Suicidal thoughts plagued my mind, but as clueless as I was at the time, I bottled them up and thought nothing else of it. This lasted for another year and a half, where I transferred to online school, and actually made some friends... but none of that could help the lack of will to live.
In April, just last year. I attempted suicide once again. I woke up late in the day, feeling like crap and wondering how I was even allowed to sleep in this late. Then I got a call from my mother, who was shouting at me about my grades... and that's when I just had to quit. I left the phone on the desk, went and fetched some of my mom's old meds, and downed 3 handfuls... after that, I left a note on my computer monitor, sent a note to the few friends of mine and apologizing for what I was doing, went upstairs so they wouldn't have to see my corpse... and I tried to sleep. I don't think I had ever felt as peaceful as I did in those moments. But I had taken my phone with me to listen to some YouTube videos, which I always did before sleeping. However, one of my friends messaged me on Skype. They were concerned and against what my better judgement was at the time, I answered, and told them what was up. They coaxed me to call for help, and i teared up, and listened. I called 911, Found the ambulance coming a few minutes after, rejected the pills I took, and was taken to the hospital.
My aunt, same aunt from way back then, was the first to arrive, which made sense, because my mother worked out of town. I hadn't seen anyone cry like that before. And I didn't know what to feel. I just lay still on the bed, waiting for the doctors orders. After that, my mother and her boyfriend came in. First time I've ever seen my mom cry. At the time it was relieving but... looking back at it, I think it's sad it's only point in my life I can say she's ever shown any genuine concern for me. After that, I was put in a mental hospital for a few days and I actually enjoyed it. It was nice to talk with people who knew how I felt and to get some actual help for my depression.
After that episode, things were starting to look up... though this lasted about a few months before we ended up right back at square one. I had even lost my meds because my mother was having trouble with the insurance I guess. I had to go into a new school year exactly as I had before. You can guess how that turned out. Even after my meds though, I slowly lost the ability to care. My mother only talked to me when she needed something or it was about school, and her boyfriend always had something to judge and berate me for. No pill can ever give you a reason to live. It was about then that I officially joined the furry community... And I've been a lot happier ever since, being able to talk to people who were willing to listen. I started to stop caring about my mother and her boyfriend and just... live and think for myself and not care for them. It's how I carried through this school year, with the promise of my own laptop with a tablet so I can start doing digital art.
This is how I make things work now, but... I wish it could have been different. It's too late to fix things... I just want to get a few other opinions on this and come clean with my story. I know it may sound like I'm only bringing out the worse of this but to be honest, I can't really remember anything positive about my family... as much as it pains me to admit.
