It has been a very long time, I'm sorry everyone. I have had a lot on my plate lately and have had no ambition to write. So uhm, this is a hard one to write. But there are those who I feel will benefit from it in their own hell. I'm going to write my past down. Now some of you I have told things that won't be in here.please don't come to me thinking I lied to you. There is much I have to say but there are some things I won't. There are a couple of things I wish to make clear before you continue. First off, this is a sad, sad history not a script. Everything in here will be as I remember. Second, I am NOT looking for pity, I repeat NOT. If you wish to make a small comment to me that is alright. But I do not want any special treatment. Lastly, I am writing this because I know there are those who know what I have gone through and some are still struggling along with me. This is to give them hope and if I can help even one single person, then I have done more then I could ask.
Instead of jumping right into that I should explain myself a bit for those who have no background on me. I am partially blind, I am legally deaf in my left ear, I have ADD. Which means my brain does not receive the chemicals it needs to keep me focused. So I have literally no span for attention. One of my greatest gifts gave birth to my greatest deficit. Having a brain as developed as doctors estimate has lead to ADD. I have speaking problems. I have ms, which is a hereditary disease in my knees which makes walking very very painful some days. My parents having smoked for the first 12 years of my life and continuously living in houses filled with smoke has lead to giving me the lungs of about an 8 year smoker. On the positive side I almost never get sick, or injured. I have a extraordinary immune system and a good head on my shoulders. I have been very blessed with the brain I have. I was able to maintain full conversations at 2, I began playing chess at just 5 years old, my most blessed trait falls into the category of music, I can pick up and follow nearly any beat within seconds, I can learn songs on insturments within seconds, and I use patterns and beats to do everything.
Ok, here we go. I guess I will start with my father... Greg, is an intelligent level headed man. Who I am proud to have known. My father is exactly like me in many ways including thought process and way of doing things although he is mp where near as afflicted and plagued as I am. His early 20's happened to be when he helped conceive me. Shortly after my mother told him he was not ready for a kid and said she would raise me alone. My father, who wasn't even sure I was his, got an attorney and made sure he would not have to pay any kind of support because her decision. I'm the clear my father cotinued down his spiraling path of drugs and alcohol. After being turned down by the marines he had no goal to live. Rapidly he was heading for death and he knew it. Around two years later he received a court notice about his refusal to pay child support. He talked to his attorney again who said he couldn't be charged believed theyc could make it out without having any charges. In court they debate over the proof I was his. To solve this a DNA test was set up for a later date. As he entered his first thought was "there's no fucking way" as he looked at me. I had long blond hair, bright blue eyes and pale skin. My father has dark brown hair and brown eyes. Next he saw my mother a red head and her new husband Ryan, a black haired soldier. Turns out my father and I are 99% identical so I am more his kid then my mother's. After this discovery the court decided that legally I was to spend every other weekend with him and one full week in the summer. Having a kid lead to him
Immediately dropping drugs and slowing his drinking. It saved his life to have me around. I always hear stories about how he could sit there and watch my mind real at incredible speeds and with words, even then, I could give any adult a run for their money and keep them on their toes with battering questions. So slowly my father and I grew together. We have been through some rough times but my father will always be a source of logical reasoning and answers. He did what my mother always said she was trying to do, and that was look out for my best intrest. This is the happy first part of my tale.
My mother was a wild red head with a future ahead of her. Well that was until her and my father took things too quick and an accident was born from a backseat evening. That's about all that I will say about her here as my life revolved around being at her house. Forgive me if I skip sections, my past is one that my mind has blocked from me and I have difficulty remembering most of my life. She dropped out of college to raise me alone. Shortly after I turned two she married a man. About a year after their marriage they had their non-bastard child who would be the favorite by his father and mother. He from birth received only the best attention and treatment. He use to do things that I would get blamed for, and when I told the truth saying he did them they believed I was lying for their spawn could never do such a thing. Very quickly my attitude began to cause me to seek attention and comfort. I just wanted for my mother to hold me in her arms again like she had done before. I just wanted a mother that doesn't seem like much to ask. But even from three, I was on my own. Sure I have a father, but he is not a "father", nor has he really been there. I was simply alone.
Him, my mother, my brother, and I lived in a small trailer for the first three years of my life. Shortly after we had to move because of something I won't mention that He did. We then moved into his parents house where I began to grow up. If I had not been blessed with the willpower and brain I have I doubt I would have lived that long without trouble with the law. and then we rented a house about a year later. He was a closet alcoholic. When he wasn't drunk he was a nice person, I think. But he was always drunk. He was sporadically gettin worse and worse. He would beat my mother, he would beat me. But never would he touch his son. I had been beaten within death's grasp many times. For what? Oh yeah, breaking the drain on accident, not taking my laundry downstairs, coughing too loudly, getting too good of grades, being touch of an over achiever, breaking my glasses, not cleaning the yard, singing too loud, crying too much. The list goes on and on. He was only getting worse, drinking more and more and more becoming more and more violent. As he turned more violent I became more independent and silent. I also began to become like him. My mother and I argued one day and I ended up trying to choke her to death, at 6. We lived like this for 10 years, eventually my mother couldn't handle it and we left. She was always being threatened about death. And the thongs he would do if she left. We moved in with my grandmother, also a smoker. My mother just like when she was with him spent all the time she could at work and my brother was left without parents. I hated him so much. He was spoiled and rude and treated me like dirt. Like a peasant and I hated him so much. But he was my brother, someone had to be there. I was already accustomed to this so I began to raise my own child. I raised my brother as well as an 10-12 year old could. However I was already twisted and cold with an temper that could lead to deaths. I also was already feeling the weights of isolation from few friends no parents and only books. I was already unable to control myself, already trying to kill myself at 11, already filled with such terrible hate amd resentment. Two years after we left, god, I still remember the day IT happened. My "family" was at my uncle's house and my mother refused to let me do what I want. I threw a FIT and stormed off to hate by myself. I was cursing and hating and yelling at god as I so often did for letting these things I still woke up screaming about happen to me. I cursed HIS name even though I hadn't seen him in two years. I wished god would kill him. That night I woke up to knocking on the door. The police arrived at 5 am. My mother told me shortly later that He got drunken rage at his girlfriend and pulled out his pistol as he so often use to point at me and himself. He played Russian roulette. But that night, his luck finally ran out, he didn't hit an empty chamber. As the walls were covered with his head. His girlfriend in the report told the cops he had been set off by a picture on the fridge that I had drawn. So on two accounts, my wish, and my picture of godzilla who I loved caused his death. That is a weight no child can withstand. It wore me down. I was in the fifth grade at that point in time. I refused to go to the funeral, I refused to speak, I refused to cry, because I knew, in hell he would taste my salty tears. I could not allow that satisfaction. I continued to struggle trying to raise my brother, manage myself, and be a kid. I never was a kid, I never will have that chance. I have always been a grown up and it's all I know.
Shortly after My mother moved in with another man and they were married. However from my stand point, I will never be able to treat him like a parent. He is just a mutual adult to me. There is not a single thing he could do, it's not his fault, but I just can't. Still my mother is around too rarely and my brother is still on a rough path but as an intellect he has some brain I will say that. If I could go back I would never change anything. You think that is a stupid feeling probably. But walk a mile in my shoes and you will see, I am proud of who I have become, I am proud of my maturity that is eons ahead of my generation. I would never wish the hell I've lived upon anyone and there are so many details that are just too graphic for here. I wish I could show people how my mind works and that people could for one day be me. Just so I could show you what I can't make words for. If there is one thing I regret in my life, its how bitter I have always been and always will be. There are many things I left out because of current length and memory. If you ask me I can answer more questions privately.
This story, no one would ever expect to hear it from just a child, but that is all I am. I am a quiet person from birth. But overall I am very easy going and easy to get along with if you can put in the time to get to know me. I just wish, I could save others from my fate.
Now adays, I have a heart for helping. I do all that I can for those people you see and just wish you could help. I give them cans or change or all my birthday money even my favorite toys so they can have something I know I loved. I have grown up that way and have done all those things. Just for the satisfaction of helping someone who needs it. I'll finish the psycho analysis for you, I do that because I was that person, crying for help. No help came. Now I make sure I am that help for everyone I can manage. It seems cheesy and silly. This is a large part of my personality however. Also why everyone links me to superheros. Tons of unprovoked people have made this comparison. I wish I was a superhero I really do. But I can't be that. I just don't have the super, or the strength to carry so many. I am a living jackal and Hyde. Through the day I am normal as normal is. But at night, my past, my present, my future, and depression. They all weigh on me. They hurt me more than any physical object. Just having them hurts more than imaginable. My Hyde however is not a giant monster. It's a small helpless child. The me that never had a chance to grow up. Afraid of everything being able to hit him and crying out so often because he can't do anything. That is my Hyde. I carry this small child side of me around and it will always be there. It will always hurt me. Naturally there is a large monster. Hater and anger don't disappear. They just grow. I have so far managed to control my issues and have a good hold on that. Thankfully.
My experiences have shown me that whether or not a god created earth or not, having faith will help carry you. Remain strong my family. I know what you are living through and I will always be here to help anyone. Thank you for taking the time to read my story. For I listen straight from my heart and it has given me love like I never imagined. Listen to that heart, it isn't just a pump. It is the key to happiness. Thank you all again. We can all make it through these rough times. You just need a brother. Look no further and suffer no longer.
-Kyle
