♥ < thats love fer ya
New member
wow guys. I'm about to become a raging alcoholic or just straight lose my shit.
I know im not a guy that subscribes to traditional thought. I know im not the most well thought out individual. I have tons to learn and tons to see and do. But god fucking damnit... if another person throws some shit in my face and tells me how fucked up i am... i may just prove them right and give the people what they're asking for.
You know... i never had an easy life. I grew up in a screwed up family, with screwed up drunk wife beating husband cheating parents. There was a good 5 year span where I lived in filth a foot high among rats, maggots, roaches animal filth and the general filth of the occupants of the house. Drugs were rampant. Stealing, tomfoolery, and general disregard for the respect of peoples' households were ripe. I as a 12 yr old boy would rob houses for whatever i could muster and take in order to obtain food and nourishment for myself my 4 sisters and my brother. I begged churches and even robbed them so that my family wouldnt go without. I fucking made it through the only way the situation allowed.
I mad it through... i triumphed slightly damaged but a better man.
I went through school as the kid that walks alone.. with seriously two friends. My hair was too long and i just didnt fit in because i didnt care to throw a football mash my face into other people, smack guys on the butt and fuck anything with a twat. Everyone told me "hey man just drop out and get your GED... its easier for you. I told everyone "hey fuck off.. im getting my diploma and I could give a fuck what you think of me and want me to do."
They all told me "hey man just get a job at the local chem plant or as a carpenter, it's whats best for you." I said no man... "i've wanted to be a marine since i can remember and though i know that i have a problem with authority... i want that experience and i want to be a bad ass, lean mean fighting machine. I want to see the world and learn what its like. I want to do something for my country." They told me i couldnt do it... and after fighting in a war and realizing that it wasn't the cause that i signed up for... i got out the only way i could but i kept it together. I soldiered on... i picked up the pieces and i still made good with my life. yeah i was affected and i freaked the fuck out the first time i drove by a yellow road sign caution light that flashed just in my peripheral as i came along side it. But i didnt get all bent out of shape... i came to terms with it and i was alright.
I met a fucking awesome chick and traveled the world to get her and make things right. I stayed up after my 12 hour days and watched anime and talked with her to make sure she was okay. I got around 3 to 4 hours of sleep a night and still managed to keep it together. She couldnt hack it and started talking shit about how she wants to cheat on me or fuck me over in some way so i sent her has home. It hurt... i cried... but i fucking made it through.
I got a decent job. I loved it. Nothing special... just a manager of a bar. I ran the place. I contributed to its success at the time. Without me the fucking place literally failed. I fucking got burnt in some freak accident.
They rushed me to the hospital, after i directed the dumbasses in the immediate situation on what to do. "hey man im fucking covered in hot oil... grab some scissors or a fucking knife so i can cut this shit off me... someone call fucking 911... my skin is pealing off like a fucking latex glove. what the fuck are you standing there for... fucking do it... im in fucking pain asshole."
I went to the hospital where i heard nurses saying "hey man i dont know what the fuck to do." my father stepped in and got a helicopter to take me to a real hospital. I was coherent the whole chopper ride over calming my 9 months pregant sister who was afraid of the altitudes effect on her child (rightfully so but her decision to get on the chopper). The whole while the medic is looking at me like im nuts because im doped up on 100 cc's of morphine (or however much it was... it was a fucking lot) and 35 cc's of Demerol and still telling someone else its going to be okay. I get on the table to get scrubbed where i ask the nurses "is it okay to pass out now" they say "yeah dude, we have no idea how you're conscious in the first place" I pass the fuck out.
I wake up with my shit all bandaged after a surgery of skin graphs on my chest, foot and leg. my hands are wrapped... my entire leg is wrapped and my fucking chest has some weird ass bandage that i dont think i could otherwise have fathomed. The doctor says "we're unsure... but i think you should know. We're considering removing your hands and your left foot." to which i reply "well shit, i guess i'll have to learn how to get by with nubs huh?" The doctor didn't know how to respond at first... i said "its okay man you can laugh." and he did.
I spend a month in the hospital. I get to keep my hands and my foot. For what reason... nobody really even understands. My hands heal immaculately... my foot (the most fucked up part) heals relatively well. I have a huge burn on my chest that limits the motion of my left arm for the rest of my life. I keep my head. Everything is okay... i made it out with some cool battle scars, one hell of a story to tell and all my fingers and toes. I'm fucking ecstatic about it.
Everyone else: "dude you need to watch your attitude about shit." my dad is fucking pissed the whole time. Talking shit to the doctors for no reason. Talking shit to me and everyone else for no fucking reason. i tell him to chill and he fucking bawks at me. So i said "well man, one of us should leave and it doesn't look like im going anywhere soon."
I beg for rehab. I'm teasing the other burn patients for bitching about rehab. I tell them "hey man... i know it sucks but you're alive man." The nurses and patients love it. They love my attitude and check on me more than i like just to strike up bullshit conversation with me and tell me how fucked up their day is. I imagine for them its wonderful to be able to vent at work in the wake of such horror. It joys me to be the medium for these people. Everything is great.
i learn to walk again... i learn to eat with my hands.
I get home... im taking care of the rest of my wounds. Everything is good, no infection. I'm obviously out of work. My motion is limited and even though its not perfect, things are fucking great given the circumstances.
I finally heal... the economy turns to shit and just who the fuck wants to hire a burnt guy with a lawsuit pending. Because lord knows my employer didnt have work-mans comp, no insurance... nothing. I'm high and dry with $160,000 in bills as a result of the hospital visit. On top of that, my rent, my car insurance, my telephone bill, my electric bill, my water bill all lapse behind.
So if i had to round my debt... i'd say a cool 200 thousand.
So of course i can't find a job. I land interviews... I apply to literally hundreds of potential jobs without regard to their pay or what it is i would be doing. Just anything... something is better than nothing at this point.
I finally land the shit job at the lame ass truck stop casino that pays minimum wage and requires damn near no work but the strictest regulations on dress code and conduct i've ever encountered in my life. But you know what... i got shit to take care of... so i fucking deal with it.
My dad and i are sitting down talking about this and that (economy and government). A phone call interrupts in which his friend calls and says "hey man... i wanna blow my brains out." My father consoles him... they talk... they bullshit... my dad tells him he will check on him when he gets off hitch and that he will call him on a regular basis. Everything is peachy they hang up. He tells me "yeah, this isnt the first time with this guy so im doing like i always do and trying to make sure he's okay... yadda yadda yadda."
I say well hey man.. he's been a friend of the fam for years. I understand. Then he breaks conversation and says "hey man... what im about to tell you may upset you... no its going to piss you off."
"okay dad... out with it."
"well dude i was super close to having you committed the other day."
I say "wait... what the fuck did you just say? where the fuck did that come from?"
He says "yeah man i almost went to the coroners office to have you committed. I was just worried about you because you bought some ammo and another gun recently and well... you scared me and feared for the life of my children."
I said "well man... couldnt you have just said 'hey man that shit is scaring me... can you tone it down a bit... can you tell me whats going on... are you allright... can i help you... are you feeling okay?' you know all that shit you just got done telling your friend?"
He says "no dude thats different"
I said "just how the fuck is that different? what your friend is more important than the my safety and the safety of your children?"
"no bro its no like that"
"well thats sure as hell how it appears to me. you didnt consult me worry about me... console me... ask me... or anything... you just bust out with this over reaction of worry to a situation im almost positive you misunderstood."
"well dude my friend (the same friend on the phone) and i were talking about it..."
"wait you're telling people you want to have me committed? Who else did you talk to about it? Are these just your feelings or do other people feel this way?"
"oh no dude, i didnt talk to anyone else but him."
"are you sure?"
"yeah man... anyway we discussed it and i just had to let you know. I hope this doesnt change our relationship."
"you do understand that if some dudes armed with straight jackets and lawmen just showed up one day out of the blue tellin me 'we're here to take you away' i would have litterally open fire on them for cooking up some kind of bullshit right?"
"yeah i know man"
"well why were you so close to doing this without consulting me or having some sort of an intervention or something? you do realize you would have been dead to me after something like that right?"
"yeah thats what your sister said."
"wait... you said you only talked to your friend about it."
"well i talked to your sister about it too and she said the same thing."
"whatever man... if you dont have the nuts to talk to me about it then fuck you. You constantly hang 'i can kick your ass out' when i tell you your'e over reacting to a situation (which he does constantly... he broke all the phones in the house because there was static on the line) and i can' voice my opinions to you. I'm afraid to say how i feel because i am in no position to get kicked out of the house right now. And the consequences of the actions you wanted to take would have created the very problem that you were going to try to prevent."
"yeah i know man... i just had to tell you. I hope you can still trust me."
"well man its kind hard to trust someone when you're not sure if or not they think you're insane"
It goes on but thats the gist.
People are always telling me how affected and fucked up about something i am. I know im angry. I know i have some issues. But im functional. I still hold a job... i make a living... i dont harm anyone... i dont get in trouble with the law... i dont have a drinking problem... i dont randomly shoot at people or beat them up or anything else. So just why the fuck is everyone so sure that im all fucked up about the things i have been through when i assure them through my words AND actions that while i realize thats where i came from... im more concentrated on the future?
I'f they want me to go nutty... betraying my trust and cornering me into paranoia and constantly reminding me how fucked up my life is will surely do the trick.
I dont usually let things bother me... but this is bothering the fuck out of me. I have nobody. My best friend who is gone 98% of the month is the only person i have to talk to. The only guy who understands. And he said "well man... i know you're not a normal guy, i know you're not the most well to do person mentally and you have issues, but i would never have thought that you needed to be committed. I'll call my mom and see if she needs a roommate cause she's lonely. If you pay rent im sure she wouldnt mind. If you stay with your dad any longer you just may need to be committed."
WTF do you guys think?
I know im not a guy that subscribes to traditional thought. I know im not the most well thought out individual. I have tons to learn and tons to see and do. But god fucking damnit... if another person throws some shit in my face and tells me how fucked up i am... i may just prove them right and give the people what they're asking for.
You know... i never had an easy life. I grew up in a screwed up family, with screwed up drunk wife beating husband cheating parents. There was a good 5 year span where I lived in filth a foot high among rats, maggots, roaches animal filth and the general filth of the occupants of the house. Drugs were rampant. Stealing, tomfoolery, and general disregard for the respect of peoples' households were ripe. I as a 12 yr old boy would rob houses for whatever i could muster and take in order to obtain food and nourishment for myself my 4 sisters and my brother. I begged churches and even robbed them so that my family wouldnt go without. I fucking made it through the only way the situation allowed.
I mad it through... i triumphed slightly damaged but a better man.
I went through school as the kid that walks alone.. with seriously two friends. My hair was too long and i just didnt fit in because i didnt care to throw a football mash my face into other people, smack guys on the butt and fuck anything with a twat. Everyone told me "hey man just drop out and get your GED... its easier for you. I told everyone "hey fuck off.. im getting my diploma and I could give a fuck what you think of me and want me to do."
They all told me "hey man just get a job at the local chem plant or as a carpenter, it's whats best for you." I said no man... "i've wanted to be a marine since i can remember and though i know that i have a problem with authority... i want that experience and i want to be a bad ass, lean mean fighting machine. I want to see the world and learn what its like. I want to do something for my country." They told me i couldnt do it... and after fighting in a war and realizing that it wasn't the cause that i signed up for... i got out the only way i could but i kept it together. I soldiered on... i picked up the pieces and i still made good with my life. yeah i was affected and i freaked the fuck out the first time i drove by a yellow road sign caution light that flashed just in my peripheral as i came along side it. But i didnt get all bent out of shape... i came to terms with it and i was alright.
I met a fucking awesome chick and traveled the world to get her and make things right. I stayed up after my 12 hour days and watched anime and talked with her to make sure she was okay. I got around 3 to 4 hours of sleep a night and still managed to keep it together. She couldnt hack it and started talking shit about how she wants to cheat on me or fuck me over in some way so i sent her has home. It hurt... i cried... but i fucking made it through.
I got a decent job. I loved it. Nothing special... just a manager of a bar. I ran the place. I contributed to its success at the time. Without me the fucking place literally failed. I fucking got burnt in some freak accident.
They rushed me to the hospital, after i directed the dumbasses in the immediate situation on what to do. "hey man im fucking covered in hot oil... grab some scissors or a fucking knife so i can cut this shit off me... someone call fucking 911... my skin is pealing off like a fucking latex glove. what the fuck are you standing there for... fucking do it... im in fucking pain asshole."
I went to the hospital where i heard nurses saying "hey man i dont know what the fuck to do." my father stepped in and got a helicopter to take me to a real hospital. I was coherent the whole chopper ride over calming my 9 months pregant sister who was afraid of the altitudes effect on her child (rightfully so but her decision to get on the chopper). The whole while the medic is looking at me like im nuts because im doped up on 100 cc's of morphine (or however much it was... it was a fucking lot) and 35 cc's of Demerol and still telling someone else its going to be okay. I get on the table to get scrubbed where i ask the nurses "is it okay to pass out now" they say "yeah dude, we have no idea how you're conscious in the first place" I pass the fuck out.
I wake up with my shit all bandaged after a surgery of skin graphs on my chest, foot and leg. my hands are wrapped... my entire leg is wrapped and my fucking chest has some weird ass bandage that i dont think i could otherwise have fathomed. The doctor says "we're unsure... but i think you should know. We're considering removing your hands and your left foot." to which i reply "well shit, i guess i'll have to learn how to get by with nubs huh?" The doctor didn't know how to respond at first... i said "its okay man you can laugh." and he did.
I spend a month in the hospital. I get to keep my hands and my foot. For what reason... nobody really even understands. My hands heal immaculately... my foot (the most fucked up part) heals relatively well. I have a huge burn on my chest that limits the motion of my left arm for the rest of my life. I keep my head. Everything is okay... i made it out with some cool battle scars, one hell of a story to tell and all my fingers and toes. I'm fucking ecstatic about it.
Everyone else: "dude you need to watch your attitude about shit." my dad is fucking pissed the whole time. Talking shit to the doctors for no reason. Talking shit to me and everyone else for no fucking reason. i tell him to chill and he fucking bawks at me. So i said "well man, one of us should leave and it doesn't look like im going anywhere soon."
I beg for rehab. I'm teasing the other burn patients for bitching about rehab. I tell them "hey man... i know it sucks but you're alive man." The nurses and patients love it. They love my attitude and check on me more than i like just to strike up bullshit conversation with me and tell me how fucked up their day is. I imagine for them its wonderful to be able to vent at work in the wake of such horror. It joys me to be the medium for these people. Everything is great.
i learn to walk again... i learn to eat with my hands.
I get home... im taking care of the rest of my wounds. Everything is good, no infection. I'm obviously out of work. My motion is limited and even though its not perfect, things are fucking great given the circumstances.
I finally heal... the economy turns to shit and just who the fuck wants to hire a burnt guy with a lawsuit pending. Because lord knows my employer didnt have work-mans comp, no insurance... nothing. I'm high and dry with $160,000 in bills as a result of the hospital visit. On top of that, my rent, my car insurance, my telephone bill, my electric bill, my water bill all lapse behind.
So if i had to round my debt... i'd say a cool 200 thousand.
So of course i can't find a job. I land interviews... I apply to literally hundreds of potential jobs without regard to their pay or what it is i would be doing. Just anything... something is better than nothing at this point.
I finally land the shit job at the lame ass truck stop casino that pays minimum wage and requires damn near no work but the strictest regulations on dress code and conduct i've ever encountered in my life. But you know what... i got shit to take care of... so i fucking deal with it.
My dad and i are sitting down talking about this and that (economy and government). A phone call interrupts in which his friend calls and says "hey man... i wanna blow my brains out." My father consoles him... they talk... they bullshit... my dad tells him he will check on him when he gets off hitch and that he will call him on a regular basis. Everything is peachy they hang up. He tells me "yeah, this isnt the first time with this guy so im doing like i always do and trying to make sure he's okay... yadda yadda yadda."
I say well hey man.. he's been a friend of the fam for years. I understand. Then he breaks conversation and says "hey man... what im about to tell you may upset you... no its going to piss you off."
"okay dad... out with it."
"well dude i was super close to having you committed the other day."
I say "wait... what the fuck did you just say? where the fuck did that come from?"
He says "yeah man i almost went to the coroners office to have you committed. I was just worried about you because you bought some ammo and another gun recently and well... you scared me and feared for the life of my children."
I said "well man... couldnt you have just said 'hey man that shit is scaring me... can you tone it down a bit... can you tell me whats going on... are you allright... can i help you... are you feeling okay?' you know all that shit you just got done telling your friend?"
He says "no dude thats different"
I said "just how the fuck is that different? what your friend is more important than the my safety and the safety of your children?"
"no bro its no like that"
"well thats sure as hell how it appears to me. you didnt consult me worry about me... console me... ask me... or anything... you just bust out with this over reaction of worry to a situation im almost positive you misunderstood."
"well dude my friend (the same friend on the phone) and i were talking about it..."
"wait you're telling people you want to have me committed? Who else did you talk to about it? Are these just your feelings or do other people feel this way?"
"oh no dude, i didnt talk to anyone else but him."
"are you sure?"
"yeah man... anyway we discussed it and i just had to let you know. I hope this doesnt change our relationship."
"you do understand that if some dudes armed with straight jackets and lawmen just showed up one day out of the blue tellin me 'we're here to take you away' i would have litterally open fire on them for cooking up some kind of bullshit right?"
"yeah i know man"
"well why were you so close to doing this without consulting me or having some sort of an intervention or something? you do realize you would have been dead to me after something like that right?"
"yeah thats what your sister said."
"wait... you said you only talked to your friend about it."
"well i talked to your sister about it too and she said the same thing."
"whatever man... if you dont have the nuts to talk to me about it then fuck you. You constantly hang 'i can kick your ass out' when i tell you your'e over reacting to a situation (which he does constantly... he broke all the phones in the house because there was static on the line) and i can' voice my opinions to you. I'm afraid to say how i feel because i am in no position to get kicked out of the house right now. And the consequences of the actions you wanted to take would have created the very problem that you were going to try to prevent."
"yeah i know man... i just had to tell you. I hope you can still trust me."
"well man its kind hard to trust someone when you're not sure if or not they think you're insane"
It goes on but thats the gist.
People are always telling me how affected and fucked up about something i am. I know im angry. I know i have some issues. But im functional. I still hold a job... i make a living... i dont harm anyone... i dont get in trouble with the law... i dont have a drinking problem... i dont randomly shoot at people or beat them up or anything else. So just why the fuck is everyone so sure that im all fucked up about the things i have been through when i assure them through my words AND actions that while i realize thats where i came from... im more concentrated on the future?
I'f they want me to go nutty... betraying my trust and cornering me into paranoia and constantly reminding me how fucked up my life is will surely do the trick.
I dont usually let things bother me... but this is bothering the fuck out of me. I have nobody. My best friend who is gone 98% of the month is the only person i have to talk to. The only guy who understands. And he said "well man... i know you're not a normal guy, i know you're not the most well to do person mentally and you have issues, but i would never have thought that you needed to be committed. I'll call my mom and see if she needs a roommate cause she's lonely. If you pay rent im sure she wouldnt mind. If you stay with your dad any longer you just may need to be committed."
WTF do you guys think?