I was bored so I decided to write my life story, enjoy

When I was in my second year of college, a suicidal depressed guy who only thought the world was out to get him. It can be quickly judged that feeling the world is against me was wrong but given my long history, I would beg to differ. The long lasting feeling, a fog filling my head, there was only one way it was going to come to an end. On november twentyfifth two thousand fourteen, I had a severe asthma attack. It was near two o’clock in the morning, and everyone was asleep. It was the worst asthma attack I have ever experience, with my inhaler failing to resolve the issue, my asthma attack begun to prevent the consumption of air. With no other options I called my schools public safety in panic. The officers proceeded to respond to my call only to find me laying dead on the floor of my apartment.
The asthma attack spurred a cardiac arrest, that eventually lead me to “die”, it took the firefighters who responded to my incident ten minutes to get a pulse, after a suspected ten minutes of not having a pulse. Luckily after twenty minutes of death, the firefighters manage to produce a pulse, and establish an airway. I was sent in a rush to Salem Hospital in Salem, Oregon. As I layed in a coma for four days, the only thing that I remember is that how peaceful death was, how it relieved all the suffering i've been through.
After four days of being in a coma I managed to wake up, but I was hardly my self, I was incapable to speaking, drooling, and lacked all the previous intelligence I had. The doctors presumed that there would be a small chance I would get much better, the odds where not on my side to get much better. But after a week of being “awake” I then started to gain back awareness of what is going on, gained back the ability to remember what happened previously, and started to rapidly recover. I was then transferred to a rehab unit in Portland, in which I only spent a week. Just before christmas, I was released for the hospital, but far from done with my journey.
When I was young I experienced things that no child should ever experience, I grew up with abusive parents who tore me down, and made my life miserable. Knowing nothing but that was the norm, I proceeded to endure the pain and suffering the existed in my life. Being beat for every bad thing I have done. I think the most vivid memory to it was when my brother stole my homework, put his name on it, and got caught. Me and my brother just got finished with football practice, and entered my mothers van, she told us to get in. The look in her eyes was one of tremendous anger, and we quickly realized what was going to happen. My mother begun to tear us down, calling us terrible children, disgraces to the family. Saying we are dumb, and stupid, making us feel worthless and distraught. When we got home, it was my fathers turn.
He continued the message that my mother began with only to add his physical abuse to the mix. I felt angry, wondering why I was being yelled at, I did not do anything wrong, it was my brother who did the crime. That enraged my parents for “talking back”, I quickly ran to my room in which my parents followed, my dad being even more enraged as before, proceeded to hit me with screaming that I should never talk back. He shoved me against my bedroom wall, and thats where the memory ends. I can't remember anymore than that, but I do know that was not the first, my parents had a long history of such behavior.
My dad especially had a long history of physical abuse, began with simple spanking but quickly produced into much more. Quickly is exhibited red flags of said abuse, I was overly submissive, not wanting to cuss in fear of what could happen if my parents found out. I was overly anxious, and expressed a dread when going home to summer vacation. After the incident I mentioned, my mental health suffered dramatically. I was severly depressed and overly anxious about anything. My grades quickly suffered due to it, its funny how if your parents get really mad about your grades, it only makes them worse, quickly I began to fail. At the end I failed my math class, and was told by her in class I was going to fail. I proceeded to cry, in fear of things to come, in one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. That should've been seen as an immediate red flag to my home life, as I cried out my dad is going to kill me.
I proceeded to try to hide my grades from my parents, replacing the F on the report card with a much more respectable C. My parents bought the fake report card, and it brought me some more time. Fully knowing that getting caught lying to them would be much worse then a bad grade. But I decided that either way it would of been bad. My life slowly moved on from there, finding ways to keep the truth away from my parents.
When I reached high school, I was severly depressed, and has massive anxiety about things, about social situations. I began to get bullied at school, whether it was the jocks, or the nerds, I always managed to get flack, and never could find peace. My best friends all went to a different high school so I was stuck having to make new friends, which proceeded to make my depression worse. I lost any possible sanctuary, where ever I went I was afflicted with pain, whether that was my family or my social life. I managed to scrape by in school, get C’s, and B’s. The first person that seemed to start to notice my suffering or at least tried to help me was my freshman year global studies teacher Mrs. Pandey, who was a great teach along with being a great person.
She has been all over the world, assisting people in africa, and always had great stories to tell. She was so interesting and fascinating. She was very helpful too. Near the end of my freshman year I was getting a bad grade in my lit class, so I was put into her study session which was meant for troubled students. She really helped me to pass my lit class, and helped increase my passion for school. Although my depression did not really help with that.
All throughout high school I would go home and just watch tv, and sit down and try and relax. It never really happened that much, as I would sit alone in my room trying to hide from anything but would be anxious about things that could happen. It happened all throughout high school. As my dad would return from work I would race downstairs and try and talk to him about the things that have happened in the day. He would proceed to show little interest what I had to say and would go to his room and masterbate. I would always return to my room feeling defeated, just trying to garner my fathers attentioned. He would to preoccupied on himself or my sisters sports, leaving me alone.
High school progressed as the endless cycle continued, with flashes of mental abuse in there. When I finally got my license, my parents proceeded to use me to run all their errands, as they would stay home. I would always agree to do them/ want to do them because it meant that maybe they wouldn't be mad at me that night, senior year progressed like that.
When I finally reached college, first time alone from my parents with a new chance to garner new friends. I begun to make friends in my hall, and begun to chase this girl in my hall, I had a crush on her at the start of our friendship, she took advantage of my crush, and use me to benefit her. Using me to do her business, make her feel good, and taking all of my free time away in order to assist her. Its not like I knew anything different, its what I have experienced my whole life, it was normal to me, not knowing better I proceeded with the friendship.
My grades in college dramatically improved from high school, from being a below average student, I was suddenly making the deans list, getting good grades, I was surprised of it. Being removed from my home of 18 years dramatically improved my grades in school, but being in an abusive situation was normal for me, its what I always experience since I was young. So I was attracted to another abusive situation at school.
When I went home for winter break, and I worked every day, spending every second my parents would be home at work, dramatically improved my mood. Having a crush on a co-worker also improved said mood, spending time with her and working helped me have a little fun. When I returned to school my mood took a turn downward as I never acted upon my crush, feeling anxious, and never having the courage to act upon my crush. Being reintroduced to my abusive friend did not help much.
The trouble with the situation was that I felt guilty for anything, a symptom of my past, and easily taken advantage of by my friend. By the end of the term, my friend told me that feeling like that is not normal, and that he experienced that before he got help for it. So I proceeded to make an appointment at my schools counseling center. In my intake session I expressed severe anxiety, in which she told me I had a possible anxiety disorder. I told my friend about it, she told me that i'm not anxious, im just unique. She was really against me seeing a counselor. As I progressed with my counseling, my counselor made the connection that my friend is a lot like my mother.
That springbreak begun the flashbacks, previous trauma I have experienced was relieved through flashbacks, as I return to college, I proceeded to unravel my memories to my counselor, expressing what I experienced. I was put on medication to help with my depression and anxiety, trying to discover which medication best help me. And then I came to the thought of telling my parents, because if my parents knew maybe they would be easy one me if did bad in school. In retrospect, it was a bad idea, my mother proceeded to freak out on me, and google every medication I was on, and then telling me how terrible the drugs were.
With my friend, I decided to end our friendship, realizing how toxic it was. She was just getting worse in how she treated me to, it was time it came to an end. I switched social groups and began hanging out with my roommates social group. Finally realizing what a more normal group was like. But I began to work at the children's farm home, a psychiatric facility for mentally ill adolescents. I worked graveyards, and each ten hour shift was incredibly long, at the beginning I was afraid of the more intense units because of how crazy it was. I was told stories of what has happened which further solidify my fears, I tried to stick to working the less hectic unit in which you would often be separated from your co worker all shift. I was so bored on those shifts that I switched my thinking and decided only to work in the chaotic units in which you would have one more coworker and would be together all night.
The adrenaline was addicting, I did not know how much, but my fear was quickly replaced by it. It woke me up at night, kept me frost, it was like a drug, and I was fully addicted to it.
My social life was getting weird, I was quickly alienated by her social group, or at least thought I was. I became close with my roommates social group, telling them about my experiences. A member of that group also experienced a similar past to mine, so it helped to to realize that its not a normal thing to experience. One of the members of this group was this kid name bryan, a very unique person who grew up in the middle of nowhere in la grande oregon. He did not know how to react in a setting with alot of people his age, and that was apparent in how he reacted to things. On the surface he was an incredibly nice person, he was very friendly, but that was all very fake, he would be a good friend but then he would say things like he wants to profit off friends, and he really cared about his possessions. This is far different from me where I can sometimes seem mean on the surface but deep down i'm incredibly nice and generous. After seeing the counselor I began to improve that surface layer of my self, but was always amazed by bryan, he was so fake yet only a few people knew that about him. So I proceeded to fake our friendship even though deep down I hated him. He also always went on long rants when I would ask him how I was doing. I always believed you just say good regardless how you are really feeling.
But bryan never felt normally about anything, he only cared about money. But nearing the middle of my third term, I began expressing a desire to hurt my self, and increased suicidality. Not because how terrible life was currently(it was not awesome), but in fear of what could happen if I returned home to my parents, and what has happened past. The pain would bring some sort of euphoria to me.
Being in and out of crisis at the end of the term, the next thing I had to decide on is what I do about my living situation for summer. My good friend and roommate james proceeded to house me for summer, so I could avoid having to return home. He and his girlfriend assured me that I would never have to return to that home, and I proceeded to live with him and his family. They really took me in, and accepted me. It was nice to experience a loving family, and I only had to experience my parents on brief occasions, so I had that under somewhat control.
I lost my job at the farm home in a weird situation, I was accused of failure of supervision, of this incident involving to members of that unit. A freaked out worker proceeded to report me to a supervisor. All I can remember is that during the transition between the shifts, one of the workers blamed me for a situation that arises. I then was surprised by a call the next day saying I was being put on unpaid leave for it, and was given no chance to plead my case. The farm home has had a history of cases of sexual abuse scandals, and fears any legal action so all they can say when a prospective employer calls is that I worked from this date to this date.
I then proceeded to struggle emotionally the rest of the summer, being away from my counselor because she was on summer vacation, I did not have an opportunity to talk about my problems. Near the end, my mother began to express displeasure in my summer housing choices, and began to tear me down again, pretty much destroying me mentally. Further validating my feelings of the matter. So when my mother threatened me to cut me off, I cut off communication to her, however my sister texted me about it, saying I need to answer her call, to better their situation, because without me baring the front of the damage, my mother inflicted it on others, making me feel guilty, and eventually I reinstituted communication.
I would then return to school as a new peer mentor, my friend helped me get the job, the two weeks of training where nice to an extent as I gained many friends, but bittersweet in that my close friends were not there, and I was still in a lot of pain from my parents. The following term was very crazy. My roommates girlfriend broke up with him, and that made him incredibly depressed, so I had to deal with that. He became very possessive of me, expressing a lot of concern for me and distraught of my inability to get much better from my suicidality, depression, and anxiety. So I had to deal with the chaos the would happen because of it, his parents and him complained to my schools health and counseling center, and then I experienced the displeasure of the leadership of the counseling center.
What made this all worse was that I went out to coffee with my friends, the one who got me the peer mentor job and bryan. They proceeded to bash me saying they can not handle me, and they don't want to deal with me. Bryan told me he did not want to ask how I was doing because he knew it would always be bad. Which is surprising coming from him, in that he pretty much set a precedent for such a thing. They made me cry in a public setting, after the incident I went to my counselor in crisis. She saw me, and I was balling, distraught over the situation, and she tried to calm me down from it.
I went home still pretty saddened from it, and tried the best I can to move on from it. willing to want to make it better with one of them, by expressing it to my peer mentor boss, who expressed a desire to want to help me, but I never told him what actually happened.
Then november twentyfifth happened, after the hospital stay you could imagine the fear I was in to have to return to my parents home. Within a week my siblings went back to school, and I was stuck alone with my parents. My dad showed much improvement from seeing me in a coma, it seemed like he improved a little. Gone was his anger problems, he was easier to deal with. He still never really tried much of bonding, we would go out to lunch, and he would be glued to the phone and we would not talk about much.
My mother however became worse from the whole situation, coming home from work each day, and inflicting more mental abuse. Saying I would never return to that college, calling the an asshole, selfish, and bad child. After weeks of subjected abuse, I ran away from that home. A good friend of mine for school helped me run away. Picked me up from the home, and ran away in the night. My life rapidly improved from that point, I met alot of people, I got a lot of hugs, and I meant a girl that showed a real interest towards me. It was surprising, a week removed and my life improved dramatically.
After a week separated, staying at my friends dorm room, I then moved in with my sister, who although sees both sides in a fights, seems to fail to view my side. She does not know the trauma I went threw. She experienced her own trauma, although not the same as I. I don't want to tell her my memories and such, so she further goes on not really understanding why I dont want to talk to my parents. I have two weeks until I return to school and living on my own, its exciting because what ive been through, and I cant wait.