wow...

my experiences were not quite that bad,but they were bad enough. i guess i should be happy that i didnt grow up in a major city like NY or LA. i was never involved in gangs or juvenile crime,but i was treated as a criminal just the same. when you run away from home and refuse to obey adult authority
you might as well be a thief or gangbanger.

my earliest memories are vague flashes,dreamlike. i was about 2 or 3 i guess.
i can remember my mom dressing me and carrying me on her hip when we went to the store. in these early years,i can remeber such wonderful things as my mother being beat by her boyfriends until she could barely walk and my real father letting me drink beer. we moved around alot. she was hiding me from my
real father who she claims raped her(its her father too). i later found out that she agreed to have sex with him because he tricked her into it,then called her a nasty slutt after. he was mean and crazy.

she knew i needed a strong male role model in my life,so she went from guy to guy trying to find a decent man. she was 17 when i was born. they all abused her or were adicted to drugs and alcohol. my early life was a chaotic nightmare,and i watched my mom suffer daily. its no wonder she hates men and fears my pedophilia.

somewhere along the line she had had enough and became an alcoholic. this brought all her fear,anger,and hate to the surface. she became distant and abusive. when she wasnt ignoring me and leaving me with strangers i didnt know(babysitters)she was screaming at me,calling me foul names,or slapping me around. some of the babysitters were naughty people,but it was better than being hit and it was more interesting than being ignored. i took to sex right away. yes,im sure some of them were taking advantage of a needy child,but they treated me very well and never hurt me.

as time went on,i began to explore my sexuality,and my mom became more abusive. i got beat for playing doctor with my younger cousins and i got beat for trying to contact my real father,which i was never allowed to see.
then my little brother was born from my alcoholic stepdad. i had to care for him much of the time. babies wake up several times during the night,and my parents would often pass out. if any outsiders ever suspected what was going on,they never interfered.

growing up i was on my own. i never got any support,sympathy,or encouragement from the adults in my life,and i didnt really have any friends in school. i was a loner. i was at odds with everything. my life consisted of taking care of the house and my little brother. to escape,i turned to sex,but i also lived in my own little fantasy world. i read alot of books when there were no adults or kids to "play" with. i was a weird kid,and wise beyond my years.

time marches on. i began to wait for my parents to pass out so i could have a little peace. i was never allowed to go anywhere or participate in school
activities. my mom also managed to find an excuse to make me quit my first
job as a teen. they were oblivious to my needs. as long as my dad had his case of beer and my mom had her quart of whiskey,all was right with the world. i dont know why i never became an alcoholic or a drug user. i was around it all the time. perhaps it was an unconscious rebellion? i did however become more angry and deviant. i began to rebel against authority,which was hard for me because i had always avoided confrontations,and i was a mammas boy.

eventually my brother began to get abused too,and i felt bad because i couldnt protect him. it was enough. i started running away from home. i always got caught eventually and was sent home where i would be punished by two drunks. eventually DHS got the message,and i was put into the system.
they never did anything for my brother. i think my parents made him lie about it all. i went to juvenile detention while i waited on an opening in a boys home. i was treated like a rapist. evidently my parents had told them about my sexual interest in young girls. i was later moved to a boys home. i was accused of stealing things i didnt take,and i was demeaned by the upity christian staff at every opportunity. my creativity was squashed(i liked art and writing,but i was told i was a lazy dreamer). they looked the other way while the other boys beat me and tried to dominate me.
when i finally had had enough and started fighting back,i was threatened by the staff about my violent behavior. the boys home is where i learned to fight and stand up for myself. its also where part of my soul finally withered away for good. reality is a bitch.

i bounced back and forth between detention,grp homes,and my parents. i also spent time in a mental hospital for juvenile offenders. in the hospital,it was obvious to me that most of the kids were simply a product of their environment. most of them didnt have serious mental deficiencies like schitzophrenia. they were just angry,depressed,and maladjusted thanks to their families and the system. we were all treated as either criminals or mentally unstable. we were treated with no respect at all. we were wards of the state. we had no freedoms at all and we were closely monitored at all times. we were forced to participate in activities we had no interest in(for me it was sports,for others it was art class). we were forced to have therapy sessions,and this included grp therapy with other kids,which always struck me as more like hazing and social re-engineering. we had no privacy,even with our thoughts and emotions. other things happened in the hospital that seemed strange to me. i saw kids get strapped down and given high doses of drugs for minor offenses,such as arguing. several of the kids were on drugs all the time and walked around in a daze. we had very few visitors. i dont know if this was by design or coincidence. some kids didnt have any family or friends,but for others,there was no excuse. they would take blood from me 2 or 3 times a day. they would wake me up at like 2 am to do it sometimes. i was afraid of needles when i went in,but by the time i came out,i could have shot drugs without a second thought. they asked me
strange questions during therapy and made me fill out long questionaires. i was given scenarios(non-sexual)and was asked how i would react in a given situation. i had my IQ tested and was given different types of image association tests. eventually they grew bored with me,not having found any
serious problems,and released me back to the boys home,where i stayed until
nearly 18. i turned 18 in late summer,and my mom kicked me out in january.
i had no job,no money,and no where to go. it was like 7 degrees outside with a negative 20 windchill. i was a man,and on my own. no biggie,i had been alone and on my own for a long time anyway.

in the spring,i moved out of state and started my adult life,which has been
equally unsatisfying,if less abusive. i have a hard time believing the hypes of our society now and i cant relate to the sheep mentality of most
americans. i guess it makes more sense to obey the law and wave the american flag enthusiastically with a smile on your face if you grew up in a stable home and never had to want for something,but it doesnt seem as valid when you were lied to your whole life and failed by society. most people like to whine or bitch about this and that,but they dont know what real suffering and sacrifice is. i have no faith in the government or organized religion,and little faith in most adults. i resent control freaks
and any unnecissary authority. i walk a separate path than most. i am lonely,but i am no longer afraid...