An incredibly long and whiny 'why me' -or- my life is going to Hell.

Let’s start at the beginning. We see a lad of seven years, without a care in the world, except maybe when Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comes on. He’s innocent and loves everybody and everything. He’s at peace with the world, God and humanity and lives a generally idyllic life.

Then his stepfather runs off with three hundred dollars and a lot of other things, leaving Mother to care for him and his sister with a very minimal income. Neighbors give him meals, but he’s barely getting along. The young boy experiences his first hunger cramps – frightening things for such a young child, to be so hungry as to feel like your stomach is eating you from the inside – and his first despair. These would not be his last.

A few weeks later, the three wind up in Florida, to live with his grandmother. He soon finds out that this grandmother is a vengeful control-freak, and makes his life hell. Grandmother works him like a slave and yells at him for very little reason. He is treated like dirt, and his sister fares no better. The age of innocence is over for the little boy, and he gets his first suicidal thoughts. Mother is powerless under the grandmother’s overbearing attitude, but soon has enough. At age twelve, the three move off to another part of town.

Things don’t get much better, but at least the home is now a refuge, rather than a prison. Little boy has numerous social problems stemming from mistrust and anxiety. School, while easy for such a smart little boy, strikes fear into him. He cannot go a day without being worn down by bullies and other assorted assholes. Little boy takes to eating for comfort. Little boy balloons to one hundred-seventy pounds, making the deafening cacaphony of insults even more unbearable. Little boy experiences his first self-hatred.

Meanwhile, Sister has friends and is well-liked. Little boy is jealous and can’t control his misplaced anger, which stems from countless sources. He becomes violent on many occassions, lashing out with maniacal fury. He beats Sister with such ferocity as to cause her to be afraid of him. She even developed kidney problems from his love of beating her on her back as she cowered and trembled. Boy discovers his dark side, and is shocked to find that he doesn’t hate it; rather, he likes it.

A few years later, boy calms down, having had a fairly calm past few years. He’s lost a lot of weight, having taken up long-distance running. But he has deep-seated hatred for the world and despises not only himself, but everyone else. Despite the rancor stored in his heart, he’s stopped beating his sister and their relationship has improved a great deal. No fear between them. But the boy is very distant and spiteful, and no one likes him. Despite genius-level IQ, he’s a loser. He has abandoned God.

Then he fell in love with his complete opposite. To be continued in the next post.

Continued from my previous post.

His attitude rapidly changed from the ball of black hatred he was to something slightly better. In a desperate clawing to get attention from her, he developed a work ethic and personal hygeine. Manners sprung up in the little boy, as well as more reasonable opinions. He softens up quite a bit and pulls himself from the hole he’d dug for himself so long ago. He finds God.

The girl was an exchange student, however, and had to return to her home country at the end of the year. The boy was crushed. The frantic beat quickens. Finally, the year ends, and the little boy, now not quite so little, finds himself lying in bed, crying an ocean. He never told the girl that he loved her with all the passion stored up in his newly-melted heart, and misses her intensely. Not a day goes by without his wishing that she were here.

He develops more issues to add to the pile. The self-hatred increases, from shame at a lot of the things he has said and done in the past, and he stops eating. He spends his days in sorrow, trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart. He picks up suicidal thoughts again, but knows them to be foolish. He wants to meet the girl again, and that hope keeps him alive, but not necessarily well. He experiences his first long-term depression and develops a seed of anorexia that would stay with him forever hence.

In the meantime, his stepfather – the same one who shattered the age of innocence – moves in. Mother and Stepfather have gotten back together, but the little boy has doubts as to his trustworthiness, but buries them in an attempt to get back to what used to be. For a time, the family’s situation improves.

The year began again, and the boy finds himself afloat without an anchor. His viewpoints have shifted to something that would appear in a Precious Moments catalog and he views the world in a new light. Completely non-violent and polite to extremes, but he’s lost the layer of self-confidence (read: arrogance) that he’d ablated in an attempt to be more accessible. He works hard, with no regard to himself, and gains numerous new friends. Things are looking up. By the end of the year, he’s quite all right and is again at peace with God, the world and humanity.

The following summer was one of his best. But the family started falling apart again, right around the time Star Wars II came out. He learned the news while eating out right after seeing the film – relationships between Mother and Stepfather have gone down the shitter and Mother feels trapped. Boy feels a sense of ‘I told you so’, but hides it. Beyond that, he feels an intense sadness that he can never again achieve the idyll that was his early childhood.

The school year began again. The little boy is much stronger for having conquered his personal demons all alone and loves life with passion. He is well over the girl he once loved, but would always keep a special place in his heart for her, wherever she was, for her (unknowing) help in making the little boy fall in love with life again. He is well-loved in his little clique and has friends enough to keep him from loneliness. Life is fun.

Then, from the past came a demon that shattered this peace. The girl, whom he had so dearly loved and still loved, had committed suicide that week. The news came in first period, a rainy day in August. Boy’s heart crystallizes and he begins to wonder why he even tries. He claws desperately at a past he cannot keep.

Then, about a month later, he recieves news from his mother that the triumvirate of Sister, Mother and Little Boy are moving to California to strike out a new life there, away from the fucked-up family and equally fucked-up past. Little Boy rejoices and makes short work of tying up loose ends.

Little Boy withdraws from school, in the expectation that he should be in California by the following week. That was three weeks ago. You want to know where that little boy is now? Still in Florida.

The deal has fallen through on the house and Mother is out of work. Uncertainty looms over the three. The three still plan to get out of Dodge; when is extremely fuzzy – he could still be here three months from now. Boy feels sick to his stomach – he misses his many friends and feels like a lump on a log sitting home, stagnating in his own shit. He feels a sort of buzzing noise in his head; a noise he had only felt two summers before when he was consumed by anguish over a girl.

His past and all the emotions thereto explode like an overripe pimple. He gets up, types his story into the little white box and launches it into the ether.

Director’s Commentary:

Piss on the world.

I could say I just posted my longest whine ever because I felt I needed the story to get out. A good scream is worth a thousand visits to the shrink. But I can’t say that without lying – I’ll still be screwed-up and sad when I’m done making a scene. I just want hugs and sympathy. I want support and advice. I want back in – no wonder it took fifty-two hours for me to come into the world.

I don’t want you guys to say ‘I admire you for sticking through all these years’ and ‘your strength is an example to be placed upon a pedestal and paraded through Main Street every fall’. I just want my life to go back to normal. I’m sixteen years old. No child should feel a need to kill himself. No child should feel hunger. The world is a shitty place. I’m too careworn and ragged to be happy. I feel my life is wasted before it even began. I wish my mother had aborted me when she had the chance, but I know this is irrational and I don’t want these thoughts.

I know countless people here, and elsewhere in the world have gone through the same. I know lots of people have had it even worse than I am, and for that, I tip my hat and thank God it didn’t get worse when it did. But I just want to live a ‘normal’ life. I want my biggest worry to be my prom date. You realize that I’ve never had a reciprocal romantic relationship with another human being in my entire life? I know it’s hardly unusual for someone to be in my shoes, but I could have used the support when my life was tumbling down on its foundations.

I’m not feeling suicidal or anything; although I really, honestly, have no one to live for anymore, I do have something. Hope. I have a gift. I am a genius – the tests should prove it. I have a relentless work ethic and an ability to infinitely delay gratification. With my gifts, I can get anything I set my mind to.

My life will get better someday. But hope doesn’t make me feel any better now. I want to be shallow and mindless. I want to be a whore. I want to get basted every Saturday and live off of my parent’s trust fund. I’m tired of being a freak. I want to be who I hate. I want to be the star quarterback rather than the best damn copy editor the yearbook staff ever had. I want to be dating the cheerleaders, not staying after three days a week to rehearse for the school’s next play.

I want back in.

Please, please please call 1-800-784-2433 or click here and find the local number nearest you: there are so many people out there with the will, the means, and the desire to help you, but they need to know who you are, first. Furthermore, these aren’t jsut suicide lines: they are staffed by people who are trained and preparedto help kids in any sort of crisis.

Depression is a nasty, nasty animal that sits on your back and sucks everything worth living for out of life. There’s no honor in stewing in it alone. Please call someone who can help you more than any of us.

If calling a stranger dosen’t appeal, call back up to your old school–it dosen’t matter that you withdrew–you are still theirs. Call the counselors, call a teacher that you trust (from any year). Call someone. No, no one is going to wave a magic wand and make it all better–three’s no point in bullshitting you and telling you that they can–but they can and will a) do things that help take the edge off the raw pain and 2) help you set things up so that when your brain starts to get better you don’t come to and discover that you have done something or failed to do something that has permanent repercussions.

Things do change. The worst thing is when it becomes impossible to believe that. Again, I don’t have any solutions for you, but if you can hold on to the fact that change is not only possible, it’s inevitable, it will make things easier. You can’t stop change when things are good, which sucks. But you --and nobody–can stop change when things are bad, and that’s salvation.

Thank you, Manda JO. Really. You’re an angel. I’ll call someone, anyone.


I’m sorry I have no advice to offer, but if you want to talk anyway you can IM me at orion59007 or email me (same thing

I am so sorry Lodrain, please read this page. It is one of the most sensible collections of advice for those whose lives are touched by suicide around in my opinion.

I know it sounds trite but seriously, you are 16 now, your life will soon be under your control, your power will extend much further than your eating and I hope you can embrace that and leave the solutions that were so necessary in your childhood and teenagerhood behind as you embrace your future.

My childhood sucked, my teenage years were unspeakable and frankly make yours look pretty easy (though of course they are not). My adulthood? I discovered joy on my 30th birthday and Lodrain, it was worth waiting for and I choose to live there as much as possible now it is my choice to be able to do so.

good luck

Lodrain, I used to work at a Univ, and put myself through several at my own expense. If you want any help in trying to figure out if there’s a student loan or grant package that you will qualify for, don’t hesitate to email me:

Hang in there.

** Lodrain **, my heart goes out to ya. Life sucks, sometimes. It gets better, ya know? You need a shoulder, or a hug or somethin, let me know.

I’ve been through two suicidal periods in my life: at 15, and right before I turned 19. If you need anything, email me. I’ll be happy to talk with you, considering I’m 19 and rather close to your age.

And I mean what I say.

I have no advice or magic words for you - I wish I did. But you’re close - so close - to being able to live your own life and choose your own paths. Aim for that - picture yourself a few years in the future. Think about where you want to be and what you want to be doing. Then head that way. You sound like a real survivor - I wish you the best of luck, {{{Lodrain}}}.


After a few hours, a couple of miles of jogging, a meal, a little stretching and a good night’s sleep, I’m in a much clearer state of mind. Rereading my OP(s), the responses and doing a bit of thinking, I find that it’s the very future I hold dear that I’m most worried about. How would being out of school for up to three months look on an academic transcript? 'Cause that’s how it looks from the captain’s chair right now.

Re-enrollment is not really my favorite option, due to the vagaries of the real estate market and the inconvenience of telling everybody “I’m back, but I’ll still be gone in another few weeks.” Still, I’m considering going back to school for the remainder of my stay here and withdrawing when we have a more certain date of departure. I could use the social net, because I didn’t feel this way when I was actually in school. Despite scoring consistent INT-somethings on those internet personality tests, I need human interaction to keep feeling sane.

Besides that, I’m feeling a bit better – I still need to see someone with a degree. The outburst really was a good catharsis, and I’m not as embarrassed as I would have been if I got on a soapbox in the middle of Main Street and unloaded my unfiltered whininess upon the world. It’s not normal for me to explode like this, but it’s not unusual, either. Most of the time I just keep it in my journal, and looking back, there are some things I just have to tell other people.

It’s gonna be really nerve-wracking to explain to all the people I hugged, shook hands with and said ‘goodbye’ to that I’m back, but only briefly. I’ll do it anyways, if I’m here another week, though, because I’m really aching to do something other than sit on my pale gluteals and kvetch. Thanks, guys. For everything.

College really shouldn’t be a problem (unless possibly you consider anything that isn’t Ivy league to be useless, and you may still have aashot at Ivy League if you are as bright as you say). If you test well, you can find a good school–maybe a state school, but with a labor market where talented Ph.d 's are lining up for jobs at junoir colleges, state schools can be very, very good. My GPA was for crap–I had my own load of bullshit, much of it self-inflicted, in high school–and I ended up finnishing school through a coorespondence type place. Still got accepted into a good state school, on a full scholorship.

If you are concerned about school, get thee to a guidence conselor, in addition to a conselor-conselor. Warning, however–there does exisit such a thing as an asshole, evil guidence conselor. If who ever you talk to tries to tell you that the future looks bleak, or that you’ve really screwed your self, or anything else really negitive, walk away. They’re full of shit.

It might be a good idea for you to make reasearching schools you’re “project” for the next week or so–it will 1) give you something mentally active to do, 2) keep you focused on the future and 3) put some of your anxieties about the future to rest. Don’t get overly anxious if you see something in the admitance material you think will “automatically” disqualify you. Just look for schools you like. Admitance things can be worked around.

One thing you might do at your old school is see if they do “credit by exam” or have some sort of self-paced course options. Explain to them that you really don’t know when you will be moving, that you don’t want to vbe behind, and that you have sincere worries that you are going to end up losing this whole semester’s worth of work waiting for the adults in your life to get things together. At my high school we have the Reconnect program, where kids who have fallen behind or who are otherwise considered “at risk” (16-year old freshmen, mostly) can take whole courses thorugh the computer. We also have credit by exam, where if you pass a test, you get credit for the course. If you can do either of those options, you can make steady progress on this semester, yet be ready to get up and go again Furthermore, don’t assume that just because you haven’t heard of these things dosen’t mean that your school dosne’t have them–both those options are sort of buried at my school, and many students don’t know about them.

Keep up the physical excersise–god knows that’s the poor man’s prozac. You might want to starting logging it, just so that you will know if you are 1) overding it (anorexia) or 2) slacking off (depression). furthermore, the act of logging itself adds structure to your life.

You are a junior, corrrect? I believe that one thing you probably missed due to your unfortunate withdrawel date is the PSAT. You want to go ahead and retake that, if it is possible (mention this to the guidence conselors). I mention this only because if you test well, you may well qualify as a commended student or semifinalist, and these words are like secret passwords into many good schools and scholorship programs.

Best of luck–things will work out. it may suck fora while–it did for a lot of us–but oh, life will be sweet later.