I was born in the evening to a woman with the mental capacity of a 10yo. Nothing could have prepared me for the life that was ahead of me. Neglect, abuse, abandonment, physical & mental illness..these would be the pillars upon which my human experience rested upon. Not out of malice, although certainly on many occasion, but because [fill in your favorite word/descriptor here] does not care for the living at all.
My mother was a very damaged person and drug addict who was raped by a man and dealer she met through family who was un-ironically on house arrest. I was to be aborted after that one-night stand, but an aunt talked my mother out of it because, "Jesus." I was named by her as well, my mother couldn't seem to name me herself...makes sense. The man's last name who raped my mother and fathered a bastard, is still unknown to me as my mother cannot remember it. So, John, if you're out there, pick a better name.
It was before my 2nd birthday, and the authorities first tried to keep me within the family, but my biological family was nothing but murderers, thieves, addicts, and perverts. Male and female alike. Young and old alike. That weird uncle may just team up with his girlfriend and she may become your new weird 'aunt.' Or your cousin just a few years older than you might be just be a little too mature and twisted for their age...
I have scars I cannot remember getting, but upon finally getting to see and read my few and chaotic case files as an adult, it becomes obvious where they came from. As did the reason I was whisked away so quickly and passed around my familial system and then the foster system like a little whore in a gang bang. Each line item on my 12-lines-deep address file by the time I was 9, all said something similar: "evidence of abuse."
I was adopted when I was 11 by a couple who had two other children in the home already. A son and a nephew whose parents were drug addicted. The day I arrived they made it very clear, upon finally securing me and my half brother in their home, that all contact with our past lives, friends, etc. ended right there. That was the beginning of the next nightmare. They cut us off from the world and beat us for the smallest infractions. I was routinely beaten, starved, kicked out, and made to live in the garage with the dogs for a time. They destroyed all my belongings on more than on occasion and I was even stabbed in my hand, on purpose, by my new loving mother. There is so much more to tell about my experiences there, but in the end, it doesn't really matter as you all get the point.
Life truly is a living hell for some people.
As an adult, I have failed over and over again to make it on my own, to feel like life was worth living, to be happy or even content with my own existence. To date, I've had over 50 jobs. Most lasting less than 6 months. I was recently fired from my most lucrative position yet, for poor performance due to untreated mental illness and haven't found another job since. Today, I'm behind on every single bill. I am days away from receiving an eviction notice. I have nowhere to go and I have no money. And frankly, I am on this site because I am ready to finally end it all, properly, and to share my story with someone. My decision isn't an impulsive thing like before, I've had months to myself of no work and no distractions, just months of thinking and feeling and deciding.
I've attempted ctb many times before. I have scars on my arms to remind me of it every single day and fucked up organs to boot. My first real attempt was when I was 12 and a few between then and now. My most recent real attempt was a few years ago. I got to spend 5 days in the hospital and was handed a $30000+ bill on the way out. This time however, everything will be prepared, organized, and flawless. I've written my note and left instructions as to what to do with my few leftover belongings. I waited until after the holidays so that my death date wouldn't interfere with future holidays.
I will be gone soon enough though. Most of my days have been filled with rage and disgust with myself and with the world. Nowadays, I'm almost leaping out of my skin b/c I cannot stand living in it, in this world, for much longer.
Sorry for the messy incoherence. Thanks for reading.
My mother was a very damaged person and drug addict who was raped by a man and dealer she met through family who was un-ironically on house arrest. I was to be aborted after that one-night stand, but an aunt talked my mother out of it because, "Jesus." I was named by her as well, my mother couldn't seem to name me herself...makes sense. The man's last name who raped my mother and fathered a bastard, is still unknown to me as my mother cannot remember it. So, John, if you're out there, pick a better name.
It was before my 2nd birthday, and the authorities first tried to keep me within the family, but my biological family was nothing but murderers, thieves, addicts, and perverts. Male and female alike. Young and old alike. That weird uncle may just team up with his girlfriend and she may become your new weird 'aunt.' Or your cousin just a few years older than you might be just be a little too mature and twisted for their age...
I have scars I cannot remember getting, but upon finally getting to see and read my few and chaotic case files as an adult, it becomes obvious where they came from. As did the reason I was whisked away so quickly and passed around my familial system and then the foster system like a little whore in a gang bang. Each line item on my 12-lines-deep address file by the time I was 9, all said something similar: "evidence of abuse."
I was adopted when I was 11 by a couple who had two other children in the home already. A son and a nephew whose parents were drug addicted. The day I arrived they made it very clear, upon finally securing me and my half brother in their home, that all contact with our past lives, friends, etc. ended right there. That was the beginning of the next nightmare. They cut us off from the world and beat us for the smallest infractions. I was routinely beaten, starved, kicked out, and made to live in the garage with the dogs for a time. They destroyed all my belongings on more than on occasion and I was even stabbed in my hand, on purpose, by my new loving mother. There is so much more to tell about my experiences there, but in the end, it doesn't really matter as you all get the point.
Life truly is a living hell for some people.
As an adult, I have failed over and over again to make it on my own, to feel like life was worth living, to be happy or even content with my own existence. To date, I've had over 50 jobs. Most lasting less than 6 months. I was recently fired from my most lucrative position yet, for poor performance due to untreated mental illness and haven't found another job since. Today, I'm behind on every single bill. I am days away from receiving an eviction notice. I have nowhere to go and I have no money. And frankly, I am on this site because I am ready to finally end it all, properly, and to share my story with someone. My decision isn't an impulsive thing like before, I've had months to myself of no work and no distractions, just months of thinking and feeling and deciding.
I've attempted ctb many times before. I have scars on my arms to remind me of it every single day and fucked up organs to boot. My first real attempt was when I was 12 and a few between then and now. My most recent real attempt was a few years ago. I got to spend 5 days in the hospital and was handed a $30000+ bill on the way out. This time however, everything will be prepared, organized, and flawless. I've written my note and left instructions as to what to do with my few leftover belongings. I waited until after the holidays so that my death date wouldn't interfere with future holidays.
I will be gone soon enough though. Most of my days have been filled with rage and disgust with myself and with the world. Nowadays, I'm almost leaping out of my skin b/c I cannot stand living in it, in this world, for much longer.
Sorry for the messy incoherence. Thanks for reading.
