Ever wonder what you would do if your best friend stuck you with a sewing needle everytime they saw you?
I know. That is how I feel right now.
At age 10 I was involved in an air plane accident, and while no one died it was very scarey. Crying was not an option.
I was raised as a military brat. Meaning that I was never to cry and to be a 'man' when it came to pain.
At age 13 I was raped by a close family relative. Only once but it was enough. He is no longer alive but that is okay too. I can only imagine how many other young boys he had 'fun' with. And no I never told anyone, until now.
I was 16 when I graduated from high school. Apparently I had a high IQ and this made me important. Not that everyone in the grades I went through were older than me and for the most part did not like me either.
Until 2 years ago I weight 124lbs. Imagine growing up and being the butt of every skinny joke there is out there. And as an adult the constant question of 'do you have AIDs'; which by the way I don't. If I tried to defend myself I ended up in a fight and got my butt beat. Now I weight a whooping 184lbs and oh by the way I still get my butt beat.
I have been married 5 times. I divorced each of them when I found them cheating on me. When asked why they did it, they told me I was wimp. Soooo very true.
I tried to go to college when I was 17 but my father told me no since I would be drafted. And I was.
But before that happened I had a bad breakup with my girlfriend. Seems she wanted me to take her virginity. I wanted to wait until we were married. (My father made it clear that if I got a girl preguant before we were married she would be a widow the day after he found out.) As the result of the breakup and years of everything else I tried to take my life. The only reason I did not succeed, my brother came home early and found me in my bedroom, called the ambulance. That was the 1st of 3 attempts. At the last attempt I gave up trying, seems I could not even do that right.
The only good thing about the suicide attempts was that it brought my father home early from Viet Nam. At least according to my mom.
After being drafted I went to Viet Nam like everyone else I knew. Scared was to say the least. I was terrified. They used real bullets and lots of people got hurt or killed. I lost two squads. When asked why I told them I ran...which I did... That is how I found out I was also a coward.
It just gets better...
I thought I found the solution in drugs. After returning from nam I did not go home but stayed in the Army. (My father made it clear that cowards were not allowed in his home.) So I got high everyday for the next 6 years. I learned the politics to survive. At the end of 10 years I had enough of the politics and got out.
I was content to just work at the 7-11 store. However the Air Force called me and asked me if I wanted to work for them as a civilian. Yes.
It has been over 25 years since all this happened. And the only thing I can say is that God must have a great sense of humor to keep messing with me like he has.
I cannot even do myself in.
Someone said that best way to committ suicide is to wait until you die from old age...
Shame I cannot speed it up.