Monday, June 3, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Moving forward
After I moved in with my step mother everything was stable for about a year. My father was released from prison and everything changed. My father is a "thrifty and frugal" man. I was getting used to a comfortable life until he came into the picture. He can be very harsh at times. I remember one day I was crying and he told me to stop being a fucking pussy baby. I went from physical abuse to verbal abuse. From that moment forward I tried to never cry due to the fear of my father who was and is a very large man. I had meetings with my case worker about once a month on how I felt about my birth-mother and my situation. I never spoke of the verbal harshness from my dad.
Later in the year of my fathers return he decided to move us from Sheridan, Or. all the way to Biloxi, MS. The normal life style and friends I was growing accustom to are now once again, was getting ripped away from me. The trip was terrible. We took two over-packed U hauls towing two cars. We had the largest U hauls sitting on the shocks due to the weight. My dad is someone you would call a hoarder. Once I got to MS and started going to school it was really hard for me. The normal way I acted which was goofy, was now getting called gay. I had never been to school with black kids before until now. They where very racist towards me and I didn't understand racism at the time. In a few short years I went from bullying to being bullied. The feeling was terrible. I hardly made friends for the first few years.
Lets get off subject here for a moment. I want to talk about the road trips when I was under 10 with my birth-mother We constantly made trips from Grants Pass, Or. to Parker, AZ and everywhere in between. One instance of this sticks out. I had the chicken pox and I was very sick. My birth mother needed more drugs so we drove all the way down to AZ. I was in the back seat of a beat up Dotson car with no AC. I was vomiting and I rolled around so bad on the back seat that it scratched off a lot of my chicken pox scarring my back with pock marks to this day. I apologize but as I type new things come to mind.
Later in the year of my fathers return he decided to move us from Sheridan, Or. all the way to Biloxi, MS. The normal life style and friends I was growing accustom to are now once again, was getting ripped away from me. The trip was terrible. We took two over-packed U hauls towing two cars. We had the largest U hauls sitting on the shocks due to the weight. My dad is someone you would call a hoarder. Once I got to MS and started going to school it was really hard for me. The normal way I acted which was goofy, was now getting called gay. I had never been to school with black kids before until now. They where very racist towards me and I didn't understand racism at the time. In a few short years I went from bullying to being bullied. The feeling was terrible. I hardly made friends for the first few years.
Lets get off subject here for a moment. I want to talk about the road trips when I was under 10 with my birth-mother We constantly made trips from Grants Pass, Or. to Parker, AZ and everywhere in between. One instance of this sticks out. I had the chicken pox and I was very sick. My birth mother needed more drugs so we drove all the way down to AZ. I was in the back seat of a beat up Dotson car with no AC. I was vomiting and I rolled around so bad on the back seat that it scratched off a lot of my chicken pox scarring my back with pock marks to this day. I apologize but as I type new things come to mind.
Monday, May 27, 2013
From childhood
I really can't remember anything good from my childhood from 10 years of age and below. The only things I can remember is terrible and monstrous abuse. Time to get a little dark. My birth mother (which I have disowned) was a drug addict (PCP), alcoholic and extremely poor. She was extraordinarily abusive. We moved place to place in just a few weeks to months. We lived with strangers who she did drugs with or fucked so we can stay there.
I was a bad kid growing up, bullying, stealing, and smoking old cigarettes I found on the ground, all under the age of 10. For a time that we lived in a trailer park in Grants Pass, Or., it was named King something. I lived in a camper trailer with no water or bathroom, there was a public bathroom and showers that I had to use. Its a wonder I wasn't abducted or worse. My bed was a fold down piece of wood that was attached to the ceiling. I had a pillow and blanket I guess cant remember. I remember that being one of the longest places that I've lived in. I lived in LA, CA in the ghetto, I remember it having bars on the windows and doors. My birth mother was kind of a hippy. She would only eat healthy food that tasted terrible. She never used seasonings. Some of you might say "Well that's great she is looking out for your health." No, for months at time we would eat mixed beans that were cooked in a crock pot, no flavor...just beans. My birth mother would beat me on the regular for no reason, sometimes because she would just get too drunk and high. Luckily one night she had beat me so bad my bruises and scratches could be seen outside of my shirt. I had cuts/bruises all on my neck and my back.
One of the teachers (for what I gathered because of memory loss/blackout) called child services and I remember I got to spend a year with a Foster Mother. Her name was Della and she had 4 other foster children. That was the happiest most stable part of my childhood. She really cared for me like a mother should. After the year had past my birth mother got me back. Fast forwarding after more abuse, I went to see my step-mother, I was almost 10. My case worker for child services had called and told my step mother to keep me until my father is released from prison. My father. He spent most of my childhood in prison. My father has been married 3 times. My step mother had been around since I was 2 years old. She had remained more of a mother than my birth mother will ever be. I will tell you the story why my birth mother has this title another time.
I was a bad kid growing up, bullying, stealing, and smoking old cigarettes I found on the ground, all under the age of 10. For a time that we lived in a trailer park in Grants Pass, Or., it was named King something. I lived in a camper trailer with no water or bathroom, there was a public bathroom and showers that I had to use. Its a wonder I wasn't abducted or worse. My bed was a fold down piece of wood that was attached to the ceiling. I had a pillow and blanket I guess cant remember. I remember that being one of the longest places that I've lived in. I lived in LA, CA in the ghetto, I remember it having bars on the windows and doors. My birth mother was kind of a hippy. She would only eat healthy food that tasted terrible. She never used seasonings. Some of you might say "Well that's great she is looking out for your health." No, for months at time we would eat mixed beans that were cooked in a crock pot, no flavor...just beans. My birth mother would beat me on the regular for no reason, sometimes because she would just get too drunk and high. Luckily one night she had beat me so bad my bruises and scratches could be seen outside of my shirt. I had cuts/bruises all on my neck and my back.
One of the teachers (for what I gathered because of memory loss/blackout) called child services and I remember I got to spend a year with a Foster Mother. Her name was Della and she had 4 other foster children. That was the happiest most stable part of my childhood. She really cared for me like a mother should. After the year had past my birth mother got me back. Fast forwarding after more abuse, I went to see my step-mother, I was almost 10. My case worker for child services had called and told my step mother to keep me until my father is released from prison. My father. He spent most of my childhood in prison. My father has been married 3 times. My step mother had been around since I was 2 years old. She had remained more of a mother than my birth mother will ever be. I will tell you the story why my birth mother has this title another time.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
The story of me...
So i'll start. I am a nerd. Have been all my life but I lived a lie. In High School I pretended to be a jock. I played football hung out with popular crowd ect. Inside tho I loved anime, video games (nes-current), Pathfinder, D&D, Magic the Gathering, and table top games. Only close friends I grew up with knew this information. I am slowly coming out as a nerd as of recent. My FB page I created https://www.facebook.com/HeraldofNurgle is kinda my first step. I also recently joined dakkadakka.com (http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/user/profile/73449.page). I have never been part of a forum before. I am at a point I am going to burst and over nerd it. I am 25 and married. I currently work as an IT Tech. My wife supports my nerd stuff but doesn't get it. Anyone else having issues like me?
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