I'm not sure what to say about myself. Sometimes I think my life is terrible. Other times I think things are okay. Other times I am as happy as a person could be.
My life started out good to me. I was living with my mom and I had never heard of fathers so I didn't know I was missing one. We were poor and our home should have been condemned but we were happy. It was one of the best times of my life. There was always food, and there was always heat in the winter. I won't mention my sister at this time. My brother treated me like shit and I didn't have many friends. Still, I found all the love I needed from my mother, and the times my brother loved me were good enough for me. Then we had to leave. Things were never the same.
My mother and I had to live with my wicked aunt who used to constantly yell at us. Sometimes she would threaten us. Sometimes she would lock us out so we had to sleep in the hallway of her apartment building. Even though we were her family, she didn't mind making us suffer. I didn't understand evil, so I didn't know why we were being shut out.
I used to think all my aunt needed was love. I knew she was isolated as a child, and I assumed she acted evil because so many people were evil to her. I tried to show her the love no one else would. She responded by treating me and my mother like shit, just as she always did.
Things came to the point that we couldn't live with my aunt anymore. I believe the climax was the day she pointed her gun at my mother. I couldn't handle somebody threatening to kill the only person who loved me. My aunt turned me against herself.
I remember the times she yelled at me. I remember the time I was running and playing with my family and she grabbed my arm so I couldn't run with them. I was too little ad too young to do anything about it. Now I am an adult and I can defend myself. I wish I could beat the hell out of her for all of the evil things she did to us. My problem is she is so old and weak now that something like that might kill her.
I wish I could just hit her one time without killing her old ass. I can't risk it though. She will keep being evil until the day her wretched ass dies. Until then, I will have to live with the pain she put me through.
School was fucked up when I was little. In kindergarten, I was an A student. I excelled far past other students in early elementary school too. People teased me and talked about the way I looked. They called my clothes dirty. People even hit me. Even though I was doing what a student was supposed to do in school, all people did was try to hurt me. My teachers didn't stop them. Some of them added to the problem. They said my mother was a bad mother because my clothes were dirty. I don't think my mother was bad because she couldn't afford the type of clothes other parents bought for their children.
My mother tried to solve the problem by moving me to other schools. I transferred to many different schools before I completed elementary school. I was always the new student in class, and never had friends. I tended to daydream often. While I'm not sure of all the reasons, my grades were suffering from the conditions I faced. I knew the answers but I could never write them fast enough. In the fourth grade, I was desperate to pass my class. I was so nervous that my hand was shaking. I was trembling so much that I couldn't write at all. My teachers wondered how an "obviously intelligent" student could have so much trouble in class.
In fifth grade, my teacher humiliated me. I will not explain what he did, but if I ever see him again, I will let him know how I felt. Maybe he's dead.
In the summer after fifth grade, my stress got the best of me. I was hospitalized. They strapped me down for a cat scan. I was afraid of the needle so I tried to break free. The straps are not as strong as they would seem to be. After my violent outbreak, I was promptly transferred to an institute of mental health.
The mental health institution was not a good place. Once again, I was treated like shit. I think maybe I will discuss how much shit they did to me one day. I saw even worse things done to other people. They took about half a year out of my life. Then I was transferred to a foster home which took out another half a year of my life on Earth. Then I finally got to go home.
Junior high was fucked up. It was also a turning point for me. It was when I finally decided to give up the "Christian" principle of nonviolence. Martin Luther King Jr. was no longer my favorite hero. When people insulted me, I insulted them too. When people threatened me, I threatened them. When people hit me, I hit them back. By the time I finished junior high, I was exceptionally violent but I felt better than I did before.
I don't feel like dealing with social workers and people who worry too much about things they shouldn't worry about. Therefore, I will leave out some of the details that should go here. It mostly concerns how I got into various types of female on female competition. If you can handle the rest of this story then e-mail me and maybe I will show it to you. If not then just stop reading this webpage here.
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