This blog made me thing about my early childhood. You see I moved to where I live now and was bullied from Year 3 onwards. I’ve read a lot about bad memories so I wanted to try and think about where I used to live, maybe get some positivity back in my life (and on this blog).
First three things I think of: accidentally being pushed off a swing; impaling myself and moving to the North.
So yeah, my Dad accidentally pushed me off a swing when I was only 3. I wanted to prove how much of a big boy I was by using the swing without the safety bar. My Dad is still upset with himself for that, I turned 17 in July. It wasn’t his fault. I hope he eventually realises this.
I impaled myself at 4 and a half. It had to have been about that time ‘cause we were out collecting frog spawn at my Infants School (it had a small nature/pond area). We had to go around and if we saw frog spawn we had to get the teacher and she’d help us get it out. Well me and my friend Nick were wandering around and this grass-snake slithered out. He was terrified and ran. I ran after him, trying to tell him it was harmless. There was this little log that was being used as a bridge, Nick ran straight across it; I didn’t. I slipped fell and impaled myself on it. I remember the horror in my Mum’s eyes as she saw me with that hole in my chest. I was lucky though, somehow I didn’t pierce any vital organs.
Then leaving to move North. I sat on the front garden with the girl who lived next door. Her name’s Charlotte. We sat there and made daisy chains. And I told her how we’d probably be back soon anyway ‘cause the North is “stinky”. I didn’t speak to her again until last year.
But then I started thinking more. And some different memories filtered through: potato salad; fireworks; crabs and planes.
I’m known in my house as a bit of a potato salad nut. In case anyone doesn’t know what that is it’s boiled and cooled potatoes with mayonnaise/salad cream on it. And I know where that reputation comes from. There was a summer party on in Charlotte’s back garden. I can’t remember why but there was a party and they’d set out a load of tables with a kinda help yourself buffet going on. And at one point there was this huge bowl of potato salad on the table. I went and stole it then sat under the table and just ate the whole bowl with Charlotte. That is a memory that makes me very happy.
Two houses down from where I used to live, every year on Guy Fawkes Night, there was a house. There were two lads who lived there: one my age, one who was 13ish. I can’t remember their names but we’d go there every year. Well one year one of the fireworks tubes slipped over after their Dad lit it. It launched into the side of the house. The adults all stood there looking shocked while all us kids just creased ourselves with laughter.
Then I have this memory of this one pub that we always used to go to for family meals. And there was a time when my uncle visited we him and my dad ordered this crab between the two of them. It arrived, they glanced away for a second, looked back. Somehow I’d gotten the claw off and was now smacking it with my fork. Don’t know why but that memory for me of grabbing the claw and trying to beat it to discover what could possibly be inside such a weird looking thing makes me feel full of childish curiosity.
And the other great thing about this pub was it had the nose of a plane in it. I mean it had a cockpit and you could push all the controls and they had escape slide to get down from it. I remember that and the yearly airshow we used to visit. I remember sitting on the sizzling roof of the car not daring to move in case a plane blew me away.
Maybe some time I’ll write some more of my life. Write about some of the bad things that have happened over the years. Maybe even write about some more of the good times… But this time up North.
P.S. Thanks for making this blog, writing down some of my happy younger life memories has really given me a lift when I needed it.
Oh, damn! I didn’t realize I had messages. I’m so sorry, I have no idea how long this message has been sitting in my ask box.
Those all sounds like lovely memories. You’ve quite the adventurous and eventful life already. I can only imagine all the antics that will ensue in your future (that’s a good thing, don’t want a boring life, eh?).
Well. I figure I might as well tell my story.
I was born in the nice town of Columbia, MD in 1990. I don’t remember much of my early life, but no one ever really does. I do know that the earliest memory I have is when I was 4. I was getting beat up by 10 year olds. I think there was a 9 year old as well but that doesn’t really matter.
Most of my childhood was spent getting bullied. I lived in Columbia until I was 10-11. On a near daily basis I was picked on or beat up. I often spent time playing hide and seek with my friends who had no clue. I would play it, and I’d hide in a hole in the ground in fear that I’d get beat up.
My parents never knew this of course, they were the typical “We’re busy with work, here have some toys” parents. I do not fault them for it at all though. They worked their hearts out to provide for me and my sister. I have the utmost respect for them. They just weren’t there. No one was. I couldn’t tell anyone. They’d write it off as me being clumsy. I mean, who’s gonna believe the kid? They’re all straight A students, who will believe me? No one.
Around the age of 7 or 8 our cat Jetta died. He jumped off the roof and caught a crow in mid-flight and later died of an eye infection the crow caused. That was my first of many deaths that I’ve experienced.
The bullying continued. I only got reprieves if I was on vacation or out of town, and even then I was somewhat pushed to the side for my cousins who were so much better than me. It wasn’t fun at all. That’s when I sorta found anime and the asian culture. Though I had been introduced to it at an early age by my best friend’s family who are from Taiwan, this was more of an extreme. Though that doesn’t really matter right now.
Eventually we moved to my current town, which I do not want to actually say what town it is. I made no real new friends here. No close friends at least. Around the time I moved here I did meet my first love. For four years we were off and on dating. During those periods I was still bullied. Still neglected and ignored.
Then in 2005, on December 23rd, my grandfather passed. I missed it. No one told me that he might die that night. They just ignored me as I played KH1. I was devastated. I was a 15 year old who ended up carrying the casket with my Uncle and a few others. That’s when the deaths really started coming in. I won’t go through all of them, but since 2005 I’ve had over 30 important people to me die.
I was mourning at the time so I missed school for a bit, when I came back the bullying stopped for a week or so in respect that I lost my grandfather, but after that it continued. But it only got worse. The next year I lost one of my best friends to suicide. He shot himself in the head on the day before Valentine’s Day, after being egged on by people.
This is when my depression really kicked in. I mean, I’d actually never been happy in my life, but I’d always been sorta not that sad but still sad. This crushed me. I was full on depressed, and it never went away. 4 months later my first love, who was still in my life and girlfriend at the time, was killed in a hit and run while on vacation in Germany. The driver was drunk. I don’t believe he got arrested or charged.
I started cutting. I attempted suicide. No one knew. No one ever knew. It just got worse. I started staying indoors, being even more anti-social. I watched anime and played video games. I didn’t care about school. I just wanted to get away.
The deaths continued though. Both my great uncles, my great aunt. So many people in my life were dying. I didn’t know what to do. I just would cry and cut and think about ways to kill myself. I even tried to find something to make me happy. I dated so many people. 75% of them cheated on me. I’ve walked in on my ex’s with 5 guys before. I started getting worse and worse and nothing was going right.
It continued and I somehow passed high school, but I had no will to do anything. My parents paid for Community College. I didn’t care. I didn’t go to classes. I just fucked up. Twice.
Fast forward to last year, 2010. It’s May and I finally have gotten my first job. Things could be looking up. I met a girl. She’s amazing, and I don’t care that she’s in Florida. She’s perfect. Gorgeous. Amazing. Same interests. I even send her stuff for her birthday and she cries over the phone in joy. It was great.
Then she dumped me. She said she wouldn’t have time. I was devastated. I jumped out the window. I landed on the roof though, forgetting that our windows don’t go straight down to the ground, they go to the roof. I cut nonstop. It got worse and worse. I got into bad relationships. Then, I was put in the hospital. My now ex-friend who hates my guts called the police all the way from Chicago cause she was worried. The cops came to my house. And I was put into the hospital and diagnosed with depression.
All of this happened, on my birthday. I was in the hospital on my birthday. There were no happy birthdays. Just “Take your meds”.
I got out late on my birthday, I got no cake or presents. I just went home. Under a week later I lost every single friend I had. Only one gave me a chance. Others sorta talked but they just were pretending and were talking shit about me behind my back. Everyone was.
Around October I came to tumblr. This was around the time where I had the first sign of being happy. Meds were working. I met people. Many abandoned me though. I was thrown back down intro depression because of tumblr. Then I started getting involved with people. It was like a giant cycle that I couldn’t escape. I dated someone on here, she then cheated on me via her ex. I gave her a second chance when she was begging for one, then she refused it.
Around that time two of my friends who live in Japan went missing after the earthquake/tsunami ordeal. They’re still missing.
I then went on to one of the friends I had reconciled with. She’s gorgeous, amazing, and I’ve known her for a year. And I did love her. She dumped me after my feelings wavered for one day. I got worse. Then this one girl came along. She is nice. She is amazing. We hit it off, she leaves her boyfriend for me. Then a week later, she dumps me because she values her schoolwork more. I was broken, again turned to a best friend and we got involved but never dated and then she left for camp for a month. During that period my second closest friend left me, and then when my best friend got back she left me too, without saying a word.
Needless to say it looks like a cycle doesn’t it? But remember that girl who left her boyfriend for me? She came back. She said she didn’t care if I hinder her work, that she’d sacrifice it all for me. She said things that only I say. Stuff that no one ever said to me, but I said when I gave my all to people. And then she said more. More than I had ever said. I said more back. And now I’m happily in love and taken by her. I’ve never felt so strong about someone. Never. I couldn’t think of a more perfect person.
For the first time in my life I’ve been happy over a prolonged period of time. I may not have a job still. I may not look great. I may be a little out of shape still. But I’m happy. I’m motivated. And I’m in love. I thought I shouldn’t hang on, but I did and I’m glad I did. It took me 20 years to find happiness, and it’s worth it. I just hope it stays.
I’m so sorry to hear about the deaths you’ve had to experience, and the friendships that you’ve lost. You don’t deserve that. You deserve so much better. Good on you for hanging in there. Never give up. I’m happy to hear you’re in a good relationship. You deserve only the best. I believe things can and will turn around for you. So long as you don’t give up and don’t doubt. You’re a brilliant person, keep fighting.
Thank you very much for sharing.
P.S. I’m sorry I took so long to publish this story.
You’re a friend that cares and does what you think your friend(s) wants. You’re a friend who remorses an isolated, lost friend. You’re a friend. How were you supposed to know? Don’t think about “what if“‘s for too long. Or in fact, not at all. Learn from your past, and apply it to your future. You didn’t willingly stay back, he isolated himself. There really wasn’t much you could do. But, what you can do now, is remember him. Remember him for the man he was, and not for what he did.
Thank you very much for sharing.
Don’t hate yourself for that. Never hate yourself. You didn’t know, and it’s really not your fault. She called for a reason, to talk to her family. And, you did. You said hello. When people call on the phone it’s for a reason - they want to hear a person’s voice. And she heard yours. Sometimes, the little things are all someone needs. You were there for her. Perhaps not for a full, proper conversation, but you were there nonetheless. I don’t think she could have asked for anything more. She knows you care. And she knows you love her. Just because you didn’t tell her that during that one last time doesn’t mean she doesn’t know. Oh, and the iPod cutting off as a sign doesn’t sound silly to me at all, don’t worry. Try not to beat yourself up over it because I don’t think she’d want that. Do you? I think she’d want you to be happy. You made her happy by being there, and now she’ll always be there for you. So, chin up?
Thank you so much for sharing!
Well, where do I start? I am currently 19 years old and I am studying to be a case manager (a kind of social worker :)) but so much has lead me to this.
I haven’t exactly had an easy life, in saying this, I will never say that my life is more difficult than anyone else’s because I believe that to be a lie.
A few months after I was born, I was diagnosed with chronic asthma and up from then up until I was 8 years old, it was pretty much touch and go on whether I would be alive from one day to the next. During this time, however, my parents separated, my father was diagnosed with a mental illness and my mother got remarried.
Once I hit my teens years, things started getting really tricky. When I was 13, a “boyfriend” (I put brackets, because having a boyfriend at 13 was a little ridiculous) of mine abused me and after this, I went spiralling down into a deep pit of depression. I went through high school being bullied every day but feeling like I was totally alone even though my mum and I were (and still are) very close. From about the age of 14 through to when I was 16, I was having suicidal thoughts too often than I want to admit and when I was 16, a friend of mine finally realised how bad things were getting and contacted my mother, it was the best thing that could have ever happened because I finally felt like I could talk to mum about this and I started getting treatment.
Since that day, my passion has been to help people, if I can help just one person then even a small part of my life has some meaning.
Even though I want to help people, my burning passion, my lifeblood is acting and writing. I have been acting and writing for as long as I can remember and I am currently writing a book.
Whilst the things I have been through haven’t been pleasant, I would never trade them for the world because they have helped me become a stronger person, a person who can help others because of what I have been through and a person who can help make a difference in the life of others.
- I just want to say to you, thank you so much for setting up this page, for giving people a place to come and to talk and to find hope. There is nothing more important than hope.
It’s always a refreshing idea to know that there are people like you who love helping others. And, I know, you have helped plenty already (even if indirectly), and I don’t see that stopping any time soon. Acting and writing, eh? Those are lovely skills to have. Such great skills to watch or read… or both. You can do it all, you know? You can act and write and help people. You don’t have to choose. With a mind, past, and perseverance like yours, your options are endless. Thank you so much for sharing!
- Oh, and, I would like to thank you. For being so strong and hopeful. There really is nothing more important than hope.
I’m now 17. My early life was fairly boring, I was a precocious child, I skipped 2nd grade. About the only thing that happened that had an impact on my life was in 4th grade.
I was at school and my best friend told me a secret. She did not tell my other best friend, so I told him instead. The friend with the secret punched me in the face, yet I stayed her friend. This really defines who I am now. I am someone who can take a lot of crap and still be friends with someone because I am simply a nice and loyal to a fault person. I am like a puppy, desperate for interaction and loyal even if someone hurts them.
In 9th grade, I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and co-morbid depression. I have always been an anxious child, but one day I randomly woke up and had a panic attack about leaving the house. Overnight I had become agoraphobic. I take Zoloft each day to treat it now, and Xanax when needed, and now I don’t have nearly as much anxiety. But it hangs over my head constantly, and I wonder, when I don’t want to do something, how much of it is because I am scared of having a panic attack.
I graduated from high school recently, when I was 16. It terrified me, as even now I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I like foreign languages, but I don’t like traveling or talking with people. I’m not sure what I want in life, other than to have love and be loved.
When I was 10, I once became so angry with my 5-year old sister that I picked her up from behind, and slammed her to the ground. I could have easily broken her back. From that day on, I resolved to never use violence against my sisters again.
When I was in 8th grade, I learned that yelling and emotions when angry is not helpful, and since then I have always argued with cold logic. It shouldn’t put a huge bearing on my life, but I believe it has caused my family to see me as an unfeeling, antisocial being who doesn’t care what she does in life. It hurts that they think of me that way.
A few months ago, I finally came to terms with the fact that I am asexual. I don’t have an interest in sex. I like to think that it is just the way I am, but I can’t shake a nagging suspicion that is because of my medicine. I also found that I am panromantic. Basically, I will love everyone no matter what gender they are. I can’t tell my parents though.
In my life, I have been offered alcohol close to 20 times. I have never had any.
My life has been boring with many events just rolling off of me. Sometimes I think my memory is failing, but I realize that I just erase all useless memories and I seem to think that many things are useless.
I think I may have missed the point of this submission, and missed some key points as well, but I wrote things that I felt defined my life in some way or another.
You did not miss the point of submission at all. Each person has their own story, and their own way of telling it. I can’t tell you how to tell it because it’s your story. And you told it perfectly.
I’m so sorry to hear about your GAD (am I allowed to shorten it to that?) and co-morbid depression. You’re a strong person to be able to control yourself, and overcome such hard obstacles in your way. But you’ve seemed to gotten around them quite gracefully, good on you! Panromantic. Well, just know, that I accept you and have no problems with who you are because who you are is amazing. You are a brilliant person with a brilliant heart (you seem caring). I hope the best with your parents, and that one day, you’ll be able to tell them that you’re panromantic, and that they’ll love you all the same. Because, you are you. And will always be you - a brilliant, perfect you.
Thank you so much for sharing!
What you can do, dearest anon, is be their shoulder to lean on. Be the best friend. Be the comforting one. Be there for them. As hard as it is to, I would take into account that telling your friend’s parents about their conditions could offer them help. Because, yes, you can be there and comfort them as much as humanly possible, but there’s only so much you can do and offer. There’s professionals who know how to help them. And that, that’s not betraying them, that’s helping them. That’s looking out for them. And right now, it seems that they need being looked out for. Also, you - you hang in there. You are absolutely brilliant. Really, I mean that. Looking out for your friends and worrying for them. You are great. Selfish? No. You are not selfish. A selfish person wouldn’t care about their friends. A selfish person wouldn’t want to do whatever they can to help them. A selfish person wouldn’t be you. You are not selfish. You are brilliant and strong and caring and you can get through this. There’s a thing I’d like you to try to stop doing: don’t doubt yourself. Don’t listen to that voice in your head constantly telling you what you can and can’t do. Because guess what? You can do anything.
Thank you very much for sharing!
I’m sorry, so sorry to hear that. Bethany seems like a lovely, lovely girl. You mustn’t worry over your past and the fact that you cheated on her. Yes, that wasn’t a smart thing to do, but you’ve learned from it. And in learning, you’ve become a better man. She forgave you. If she didn’t truly forgive you she would never have gotten back together with you. She forgave you because she knew you were a better person, perhaps it’s time you forgave yourself?
Thank you so much for sharing.
I grew up on a 4 acre non-working farm with a crazy family of three brothers, my parents, 2 dogs, and a succession of several rabbits. I love music, theatre, food, television and reading. I also grew up with Turner Syndrome. Turner Syndrome is a non-life-threatening genetic condition where a bunch of scientific stuff occurs with which i will not bore you but basically, the only effects being, I’m short( 5’ tall FTW!!), need glasses, am somewhat awkward in social situations and i need to take hormone supplements (i just take birth control basically to get the hormones i need. Is super easy and nbd) I was diagnosed when I was 2 so it was never some weird huge thing to get used to. I just had to take nightly growth hormone shots starting when I was 4 until I was 15. They were just another before-bed ritual like brushing my teeth. Basically, I love life, want to be an actor after college and don’t think I would be the same person with out having grown up with TS but, maybe that’s a good thing.
Ah, yes, your story still has plenty more of content and plot twists and wonders to go, but it’s still a story nonetheless. Just, an unfinished one. Or perhaps the first chapter. Growing up on a farm, that’s interesting. What a life that’d be. You are quite the strong one, over coming something hard, TS, and turning it into a good thing. Good on you! And being short isn’t all that bad (I’m quite short myself) you’re the last to be rained on, eh? Thank you for sharing your story!