heresyinc (heresyinc) wrote in _survivors_,

My First Post

I haven't posted here before so I'm not really sure whats appropriate so I'll just lj-cut the whole thing:

Hello my name is Gavin. I don't really know how to start so I'll do my best to explain everything from the beginning. I know others have had it much worse than me, please don't think I am in any way trying to compare my problems, I'm simply trying to explain them. This is going to be pretty jumbled, I'm not a very good writer. There’s a lot I could write here but I'll just hit the high points.

I was born on May 31st 1983. I am the oldest child of 4. Although I love my parents and I know they did the best they could, they really should never have gotten together or had children. My father has a terrible temper and I was always his release as I was the oldest and because I would feed into it. I was unruly, and quick tempered, I'm very stubborn. No punishment my parents ever tried worked, probably because nothing they could do could make me feel worse than I felt already. I knew he loved me but part of me said he hated me too. We yelled at each other almost everyday for as far back as I can remember. He only struck me once but I have no memory of it and never have. I could never go to him with my problems as he was emotionally cold, and he always over reacted. He would blame me for my problems. He worked a lot so we rarely did much together, and what little we did usually ended badly. I don't know why but he never really trusted me, my sister would blame me for a lot of things I never did as a way of getting attention and my father never doubted her, in fact the one time he did hit me was because she lied and said I had been hitting her. My mother is a nice women but she has severe mental illness, she was in and out of mental institutions most of my childhood. I learned very early on that I had to what I said/did around her because her mood would bomb. She was overprotective and was always more likely to tell us what she thought sounded best or was kindest instead of the truth. Which is what parents do but she took it to extremes. I never really trusted what she said as I knew it wasn't how she really felt. Whenever I asked her anything she would always say yes, so my father overcompensated and always said no. My mother didn't work so I was raised primarily by her. When I first got into school I had a lot of problems with the other kids. I had never had much exposure to being with other children and my mother had raised me to wear my heart on my sleeve, and to show my emotions when I felt them. This made me a social outcast, I was easily hurt by teasing etc and do to my awkwardness I was teased a lot. I eventually learned to hide all my emotions and push them all down. I had a lot of friends but they would never acknowledge me publicly. I would hang out with them after school but only if it was only us. No one wanted to be known as my friend. I remember one day at school a group of about 5 of my friends were hanging out together on the schoolyard, I went over to talk to them and they all started to make fun of me and told me to get lost. They were some of my best friends but they were embarrassed to admit it to each other. I tried having a birthday party a few times but no one ever showed up, they would stop by give me a gift and then leave right away before anyone else showed up. I got used to it and just started isolating. When I was 6 I started hanging out with an older neighbor boy a lot but after a few months he started molesting me although I have little to no memory of it. The most I've ever been able to remember is a few small snapshots. I didn't tell my parents until I was 13, I didn't think my mom could handle it and I was sure my dad would blame me. It messed with my head a lot and I was always afraid someone would find out but I'm ok with it now. We were always very poor, I went to the "rich kids" school so I got a lot of crap for having cheap stuff, around age 12 I got tired of it so I started shoplifting and stealing purses. I got caught after a little while and my parents decided it was best if I was sent to a group home. I had never had structure before and I didn't react well to it. Although I was well liked by the staff I was constantly in trouble. I kept getting in trouble so I ended up getting kicked out of every one I was sent to (I was in 5 different homes over the course of 4 years). I was at a place called Home on the Range for about one and a half years. I got beat up a lot there, pretty badly a few times. It messed with my head a lot because most of the time the people smacking me around were also my best friends. I learned a lot about how to act around others and my sense of humor was improved a lot, because if you annoyed someone you got hit. I'm grateful because it made me who I am today but it also had a lot of negative after effects. I never back down from a fight now and if someone insults me I feel an overwhelming desire to fight them regardless of whether I'll win or not, although I haven't been in one since '01. Towards the end on my stay at HOTR they switched up my antidepressants, I ended up becoming suicidal and after a few failed attempts they kicked me out. It wasn't the first time I had tried to kill myself as a way out, I've tried about 7 times since age 6 but as you may have noticed I've failed to succeed so far. I used to cut on myself a lot too, it started with me throwing myself into walls, stomping on my feet, etc but then I found the joys of a razorblade. I can deal with physical pain, emotional not so much. When I was locked up I couldn't wait to get out, I thought everything was going to be so great. I was going to join the Army, go to college to become a cop, find the perfect girl and start a family. The army wouldn't take me due to a genetic disease that left me with nonfunctional collar bones, I could still be a cop but I can't pass a polygraph so I wouldn't be able to join any force in a larger city, and its become apparent to me that the perfect girl doesn't exist. Well she does she just has no interest in me beyond friendship. So now I am left with no more dreams to hope for. When things got really hard I always told myself that one day everything will be perfect, and I believed it. Now I know that they will never be so what’s the point? I don't believe in an afterlife so for me all that matters is the here and now. I feel terrible all the time and I can't sleep very well. I haven't been cutting but I have been drinking a lot more. I don't want to kill myself because I know what it will do to my family/friends but it becomes increasingly harder and harder each day not to.
Tags: abuse: csa, abuse: emotional, bullying, depression, suicide: attempted

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