I was never the type that got along with other people. I grew up in a home where I got the shit kicked out of me if I would spill milk at the breakfast table or be forced to eat tabasco if I didn't eat the food that was served.
When I was five years old, I decided to take a bath. I filled the bathtub with warm water. I stopped and thought to myself; "How could this get a little bit more exciting? I know! Let's add bubbles :-D". I used all the shampoo and soap to create a fortress of foam. It was really a lot and I was jumping around with excitement.
As I went into the bathtub and started playing there, my mom went into the bathroom. She freaked out when she saw the fortress. She dragged me out of there and told me that my father will not be happy if he finds out about this. I knew what that meant. We started to remove the foam. Unfortunately, it was too late. My father walked in and asked what we were doing. When he saw the empty bottles scattered everywhere, his eyes turned black and he picked me up and threw me onto the towel shelf. My mother tried to protect me, but it was for naught. He grabbed her and threw her into the bathtub. I will never forget the sound of the water splashing as my mother tried to get out of there.
Some people say that kids don't know what violence is and that they don't understand the concept of death. I knew exactly what was happening. I knew that she would die if I didn't do anything about it. I did my best to drag him away, but he would just kick me in the face and throw me back into the damn shelf again.
I couldn't take it anymore. I left the bathroom and entered the kitchen. My two older sisters were there painting stuff. My oldest sister (age 10) looked at me and grabbed me. I tried to tell her what was happening in the bathroom. She just told me to be quiet and that everything is going to be alright. I don't know how she managed to keep so calm. I don't understand how she could do something like this.
I don't remember what happened afterwards. All I know is that I had broken my neck and I still have a big scar today to remind me of that.
Somehow, we managed to get away. We got to a new family. Everyone were fully intergrated to our new life. All except me.
I'm not gonna talk so much about my years in this new family. I was never a part of them. Why? Because I got my father's looks. My sisters had his temperament and violent outbrakes. I on the other hand would usually just start screaming and hide in the bathroom (ironic how I could that to be a safe place) or my room. But no matter what happened, I would always hear "You're exactly like your father".
In 2005, when I was 15, I met the love of my life. Erika. She just knew everything somehow. She just knew how everything worked and how to deal with me. I was so happy to have found someone who understood me. Someone who made me feel happiness for the first time.
I knew this would be the one I would live with. The one I would grow old and live a happy life with.
in January 14th 2008, she passed away.
My life, the little of what I had experienced and had, vanished. I was alone again.
I was so lost. I didn't know what I was doing. Everything from that time feels like a movie where I play the main character, but not controlling myself. I'm just observing everything. It's difficult to explain if you haven't experienced it yourself.
Life had no meaning. Nothing was even comparable to the happiness I had. Nothing.
I was too afraid to take my life. All I knew was that I didn't want to be part of this life anymore. I just wanted it all to end.
I met someone four days after her passing. Victor was his name. We became best friends. I never told him about any of this. I just wanted a simple and uncomplicated bond with someone. He made me happy. Somehow, I got a little hope. He said he loved me and that I would be his best friend for all time. It made me smile.
We went on a cruise in the spring of 2008. We both got incredibly drunk and ended up in the same bed together. I didn't know what was happening. All I remember was that we talked a lot and then started kissing. In the end he started touching me and going down to my pants. I woke up from my drunk dreamlike state. I pushed him away and asked what he was doing. He said he felt sick and went to the bathroom to throw up. I helped him and took care of him. He fell asleep afterwards. He had no recollection of the night the day after when he awoke.
I decided to not tell him of this. I didn't want to lose him. He was the single light in my life. I would gladly bear this.
Unfortunately, I made the mistake of telling him what happened a few months later.
He abandoned me. He stopped answering my calls and texts. I knew it was over, so I let it go. I felt devestated again.
Time passed and I felt like I was just a walking dead. Nothing really mattered to me. Nothing really made me care.
In April 19th 2009, it did. I met a man. Mike was his name. We talked for a while, about this and that. Somehow, we managed to get into the discussion of Erika. I broke down and told him everything.
His reaction, which I never expected, was "I lost mine too in 1997".
It was like time froze for me. I just sat there, wondering what he'd said. He told me of his experience and how he managed to go through it.
We became best friends after this. He helped me through everything. He picked me up and made me into a man. I felt happy, real happy. He could make me smile just by making his presence known.
I thought this would never end. The new happiness and the new life. It was like I was dreaming.
I started going to the university. Everything went fine. I just felt the stability I've had searched for so long. How could things be so amazing?
In late November 2010, We were celebrating my family's birthdays (they all have them around the fall, so we do a group celebration usually). We were at my sister's boyfriends restaurant. I arrived a bit later, due to me being at work. I arrived, said hello to everyone and enjoyed a tasty dinner. When I asked for dessert, the chef told me that it's already midnight and that the kitchen is closed, and that if I wanted dessert I could go to another restaurant to buy it. This does not translate well into text. The way he said it made it sound like I had upset him for suggesting that I would like dessert. He was so damn rude. He then said "What? Do you want me to go around the corner to mcdonalds to get you a fucking ice cream or what??".
He definitely ruined my mood. By the end of the evening when we were about to leave, I refused to pay. I will not pay for this fucking awful service I was given.
I told my family of the stuff he'd said. Hoping they would support me, I was proven wrong when they all started telling me what an asshole I am for doing this to them. My oldest sister even hit me a couple of times. When I tried to defend myself, she started screaming "let me go!". Everyone came to her rescue. They said I would never change and that I would always be like my father. They told me to get out and never come back.
So I did. I walked away and never looked back again.
Here comes the last part of the story of my life. This will be a short part.
I lost my best friend, Mike, in February 20 2011.
I'm alone.
Please, tell me something, fellow escapist members...what should I do? I'm completely alone now. Everyone that were supposed to love me are gone or hate me.
I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go. I just needed to write about this. I just need to unwind. I'm crying as I write this part. I just don't know what to do. Please just tell me something. Anything. I don't know where to go.
I don't see a reason to live anymore.
I'm sorry for this long and depressing post.
When I was five years old, I decided to take a bath. I filled the bathtub with warm water. I stopped and thought to myself; "How could this get a little bit more exciting? I know! Let's add bubbles :-D". I used all the shampoo and soap to create a fortress of foam. It was really a lot and I was jumping around with excitement.
As I went into the bathtub and started playing there, my mom went into the bathroom. She freaked out when she saw the fortress. She dragged me out of there and told me that my father will not be happy if he finds out about this. I knew what that meant. We started to remove the foam. Unfortunately, it was too late. My father walked in and asked what we were doing. When he saw the empty bottles scattered everywhere, his eyes turned black and he picked me up and threw me onto the towel shelf. My mother tried to protect me, but it was for naught. He grabbed her and threw her into the bathtub. I will never forget the sound of the water splashing as my mother tried to get out of there.
Some people say that kids don't know what violence is and that they don't understand the concept of death. I knew exactly what was happening. I knew that she would die if I didn't do anything about it. I did my best to drag him away, but he would just kick me in the face and throw me back into the damn shelf again.
I couldn't take it anymore. I left the bathroom and entered the kitchen. My two older sisters were there painting stuff. My oldest sister (age 10) looked at me and grabbed me. I tried to tell her what was happening in the bathroom. She just told me to be quiet and that everything is going to be alright. I don't know how she managed to keep so calm. I don't understand how she could do something like this.
I don't remember what happened afterwards. All I know is that I had broken my neck and I still have a big scar today to remind me of that.
Somehow, we managed to get away. We got to a new family. Everyone were fully intergrated to our new life. All except me.
I'm not gonna talk so much about my years in this new family. I was never a part of them. Why? Because I got my father's looks. My sisters had his temperament and violent outbrakes. I on the other hand would usually just start screaming and hide in the bathroom (ironic how I could that to be a safe place) or my room. But no matter what happened, I would always hear "You're exactly like your father".
In 2005, when I was 15, I met the love of my life. Erika. She just knew everything somehow. She just knew how everything worked and how to deal with me. I was so happy to have found someone who understood me. Someone who made me feel happiness for the first time.
I knew this would be the one I would live with. The one I would grow old and live a happy life with.
in January 14th 2008, she passed away.
My life, the little of what I had experienced and had, vanished. I was alone again.
I was so lost. I didn't know what I was doing. Everything from that time feels like a movie where I play the main character, but not controlling myself. I'm just observing everything. It's difficult to explain if you haven't experienced it yourself.
Life had no meaning. Nothing was even comparable to the happiness I had. Nothing.
I was too afraid to take my life. All I knew was that I didn't want to be part of this life anymore. I just wanted it all to end.
I met someone four days after her passing. Victor was his name. We became best friends. I never told him about any of this. I just wanted a simple and uncomplicated bond with someone. He made me happy. Somehow, I got a little hope. He said he loved me and that I would be his best friend for all time. It made me smile.
We went on a cruise in the spring of 2008. We both got incredibly drunk and ended up in the same bed together. I didn't know what was happening. All I remember was that we talked a lot and then started kissing. In the end he started touching me and going down to my pants. I woke up from my drunk dreamlike state. I pushed him away and asked what he was doing. He said he felt sick and went to the bathroom to throw up. I helped him and took care of him. He fell asleep afterwards. He had no recollection of the night the day after when he awoke.
I decided to not tell him of this. I didn't want to lose him. He was the single light in my life. I would gladly bear this.
Unfortunately, I made the mistake of telling him what happened a few months later.
He abandoned me. He stopped answering my calls and texts. I knew it was over, so I let it go. I felt devestated again.
Time passed and I felt like I was just a walking dead. Nothing really mattered to me. Nothing really made me care.
In April 19th 2009, it did. I met a man. Mike was his name. We talked for a while, about this and that. Somehow, we managed to get into the discussion of Erika. I broke down and told him everything.
His reaction, which I never expected, was "I lost mine too in 1997".
It was like time froze for me. I just sat there, wondering what he'd said. He told me of his experience and how he managed to go through it.
We became best friends after this. He helped me through everything. He picked me up and made me into a man. I felt happy, real happy. He could make me smile just by making his presence known.
I thought this would never end. The new happiness and the new life. It was like I was dreaming.
I started going to the university. Everything went fine. I just felt the stability I've had searched for so long. How could things be so amazing?
In late November 2010, We were celebrating my family's birthdays (they all have them around the fall, so we do a group celebration usually). We were at my sister's boyfriends restaurant. I arrived a bit later, due to me being at work. I arrived, said hello to everyone and enjoyed a tasty dinner. When I asked for dessert, the chef told me that it's already midnight and that the kitchen is closed, and that if I wanted dessert I could go to another restaurant to buy it. This does not translate well into text. The way he said it made it sound like I had upset him for suggesting that I would like dessert. He was so damn rude. He then said "What? Do you want me to go around the corner to mcdonalds to get you a fucking ice cream or what??".
He definitely ruined my mood. By the end of the evening when we were about to leave, I refused to pay. I will not pay for this fucking awful service I was given.
I told my family of the stuff he'd said. Hoping they would support me, I was proven wrong when they all started telling me what an asshole I am for doing this to them. My oldest sister even hit me a couple of times. When I tried to defend myself, she started screaming "let me go!". Everyone came to her rescue. They said I would never change and that I would always be like my father. They told me to get out and never come back.
So I did. I walked away and never looked back again.
Here comes the last part of the story of my life. This will be a short part.
I lost my best friend, Mike, in February 20 2011.
I'm alone.
Please, tell me something, fellow escapist members...what should I do? I'm completely alone now. Everyone that were supposed to love me are gone or hate me.
I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go. I just needed to write about this. I just need to unwind. I'm crying as I write this part. I just don't know what to do. Please just tell me something. Anything. I don't know where to go.
I don't see a reason to live anymore.
I'm sorry for this long and depressing post.
