I don’t know how many of you have read my FTW #3 yet and/or the comments on it, but it is one of my best works and once again crediting Emma Donovan for the inspiration…but in the comment from someone named “staci”, my writing juices started flowing again…
But this is something personal…something I haven’t told very many people, so please bear with me…I have a lot to go through here…
I will call this “Suffering”…I hope you all understand that I am going to say a lot of things that I never thought I could, but it is about time that I did…so here goes everything…
The true meaning of the word pain…I don’t know if it is or not, but how about living with it everyday. Not just physical, but mental and emotional, as well. Ever since I can remember, I have had to deal with all of it.
We will start with home life. Most of my childhood, I lived with two seperate families, because my mom and my dad didn’t live together. Having that situation isn’t that uncommon anymore, but there was something that just was’t right about it, and I could never fully lay my finger on it, until much later on…but I will get to that last…but the arrangements would change(as stated in an earlier post) around the age of 12 or 13…
Next we will move on with school. I started off as the smart-kid. I was the fastest at everything, and I didn’t even have to try very hard. My first elementary school wanted my mom to allow them to skip me a grade, forgetting about 2nd grade altogether. Glad she didn’t agree. But just how smart was I? My second elementary school got me enrolled in something called “The Midwest Talent Search”, a program where kids grade 2-7 can take actual high school exams like the PSAT, the SAT, and the ACT. I took the SAT in the 4th grade…and I scored a 930…a 930…most colleges look at any score 700 and up, and I got a 930 in the 4th grade…and that opened up a lot of ridicule from my peers…so what…I never really cared about what others thought…or did I? Well, in the 6th grade, it a changed, in a way. I wasn’t feeling very well, and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I got up and asked my teacher(a wonderful man named Ron Ellis) if I could talk to him. While I was getting ready to tell him that something was wrong, I slumped over, not quite blacking out because I could see everything, but I couldn’t respond…but I didn’t do it again…well I did, but we will get to that in the next paragraph. Moving on with school, I entered Junior High knowing what I had accomplished so far, and remember almost all of it…and that would lead to my downfall…most of the stuff being tought in 7th & 8th grade was the same as we had already been through in elementary school…it was no longer a challenge to me…and I didn’t care about it anymore. High School came and I was ready for something new…and I was let down…the same shit different book cover…the classes I excelled in were new topics, like foreign languages, computer programming, elec & comm w/ circuitry, and of course math(I was in the AC program in it…and I always had an A), but all of the other courses where just not challenging, they were interesting because of some of the teachers, but I still didn’t care…oh and I ended up not finishing high school…but redeemed myself later on, by taking the GED test and passing it with Honors…piece of cake test…reason I didn’t finish will be in the next segment…
Now for the heart of this whole thing…the pain…and we will go in order. First of all, passing out in the 6th grade, we never got to figure out what was wrong, and it seemed to just go away…my freshman year of high school, I ended up getting this pain in my right side, blacking out fully, and falling down a flight of stone stairs…what fun…the doctor still couldn’t figure it out, so he sent me to a gastroenterologist…stomach doctor, pretty much…Dr. Pletcher ruled out appendicitis(good thing), and the problem seemed to go away. I ended up getting emotional support from my friends and my first love. The problem came back in my sophomore year, and I went back to Dr. Pletcher and he ordered a colonoscopy…what did he find? Polyps. I don’t exactly know what they are, and I don’t really care to find out…but I know what it can lead to. And I hear that having 5 or 6 of them at a time can be considered bad…I had 28 of them…28…you tell me if that is bad. But they were removed and I was going to be fine. Then two unspeakable tragedies struck near the same time. My best friend, mentor, and one of my wrestling trainers died of an unspeakable accident(and please don’t ask me about it…what ever you do), and my beloved also passed away(also a subject that won’t be expanded upon). Talk about pain…I barely even knew who I was at that point, but I promised myself I would push on…I met my second love in my senior year…which also was riddled with pain…my high school had introduced this thing called the “Senior Project”, a required, year-long project that included a paper, a physical project, and 13-min speech in front of a teacher, a member of the business community, and a member of the school board…I hate speeches, so I was completely terrified, so much so that I ended up getting very sick and devoloping an ulcer…yes, an ulcer at age 17…so I transfered schools(to a different county), that didn’t work out…I ended up dealing with a sadist in the proper fashion, I put him through two plate-glass windows, two because he didn’t land after the first one and sailed through the second…big mistake, he was the captain of the varsity football team…he pissed me off, he provoked me, and I dealt with him…I didn’t get suspended(or in trouble at all) because of the few friends I did make ended up siding with me and calling it self-defense(technically it was, but it was fun), but you can believe the tension caused by a big outsider coming in and doing what I did…it was not a good idea for me to stay…so I transfered back to my county, different school but same county…that didn’t work out either, I ended up getting too sick to finish…sad for me, but I did find my second love here…and sometimes I wished I hadn’t. We had more than our fair share of problem. Too numerous to mention, but they were terrible…and all of them form or caused by her…I always just hoped that she would change. She was great to begin with, but she definitely didn’t stay that way. It had gotten so bad(and here is where the inspiration from staci comes in) that I attempted suicide…yes, I attempted suicide…just a few days after Thanksgiving in 2001…I had given up all hope in myself, and I thought it was the best thing for me, so I watched WWE RAW that Monday night, what for my insignificant other to go to bed, and I downed about 40 maximum strength Tylenol, and forced myself to go to sleep…hoping that I wouldn’t wake up. Lo and behold, I DID wake up about 9 hours later, still on the couch where i had gone to sleep, but I wasn’t feeling the best, so I went to the hospital…and I ended up telling them what I had done. They all were shocked to see that I was still alive following that. I ended up being in the hospital for 3-4 days(I don’t remember exactly how long). I went through numerous tests and ended taking about 16 doses of the antidote, NAC. They still couldn’t figure out why I didn’t die from it, my liver should’ve shut down about 6-7 hours after doing it, why didn’t it work? While I was there, they found something strange in my intestines, a dead tumor…a TUMOR…scared me half-to-death…but why was it dead? It wasn’t benign, it was dead. Apparently it had absorbed enough acetaminophen to kill it. What I did might have saved my life. Strange how fate works. But I didn’t die. That was very important to me, because I had realized what a mistake I had made in trying cause it. So I made a promise quietly to myself that I would never do it again, period. I decided to give my other half one last chance, but I made another promise to myself that it would never happen again, and if I ever got to that point again, it would be over completely. Well we ended up having a daughter together, and soon thereafter, my other half decided to return to her evil ways. I stayed because of my little girl, but after so long, I started having those thoughts again…and I made good on my promise…I left her to divulge in her own self-pity…while still trying to take care of my daughter. The other half is now refered to the snarling hose-beast, as mentioned in many other posts. We have been apart for about 3 months now, and it feels great to be away from her(but unfortunately, I don’t get to see my little girl very much anymore)…but it seems sorrow follows me everywhere. I recently found out something that has changed my life forever, something that has taken the meaning out of my existance…the feeling that you were a mistake…I found out that I was the product of a rape. The man I know as my biological father was a sadist. He did something so unspeakable to my mother when she was 16, and I was the outcome. Yeah, he stepped forward and claimed responsiblity for his actions, but it still didn’t change the horrible thing he had done. To me, it didn’t make him any different that the ones who don’t assume that responibity, he was still a sadist. Don’t get me wrong, the feeling of being a mistake is not caused by my mother, she loves me and I love her just as much, but just the way I came about, the action…WAS a big mistake…now after that, I haven’t really been myself…more depressed than usual…but I am getting stronger…but another problem has ensued, now I do not have a regular paying job…I lost my job recently…a job that I loved…now I have little money, and I can’t seem to find a replacement for that…I thought about going into wrestling full time, but until you break the glass-ceiling, you don’t make very much…so I need something else to go with it…it seems to me that - “if it isn’t one thing, it’s about three others”.
Even through all of that, I still live my life based around honor, respect, and love…they are the only things I have left…well, and thanks to my friend Richard I have support…and this computer…which I have to thank all of you readers for lending me your ears and for giving me the support you have so far…
But there is one thing that I always question: Why am I cursed with this lifetime of pain and sorrow?…even though I don’t live a new tragedy everyday, I still have these memories that haunt my thoughts and dreams…which leads to…Am I making a mistake living my life for honor?…I can’t seem to answer those questions. Maybe I have made a mistake…it seems that I can never be completely happy at any time…maybe…just maybe…but I cannot go back, I am who I am, I am proud of who I am, I just wish that it would all change, and maybe the pain can go away…
Any solutions?…I am open to anything…you all have been great to me, and I appreciate all of you…I thank you all…and please feel fre to tell me what you think, no matter what that means, I will never judge anyone…ever…
Later on…I think I am going to take a nap…
The Master is sleepy…maybe a good nap will fix me right up…or make me even more tired…maybe a good movie…I know I will watch “Dogma”…I love that movie…
Until next time…my slaves…
And I hope to have the WTF post up by Midnight…
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