You know where it ends, yo, it usually depends on where you start

Everlast – What it's like

Not the best title for this post, but it's what came to mind; and it's been on my mind for many, many years.

"Don't you want to take a leap of faith? Or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone!"
When I watched Inception that line really resonated with me.
Believe it or not but I've been afraid of that since I was just 12 years old.
I couldn't do the things I wanted and I couldn't accomplish anything really and I couldn't understand why.

Now I'm an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone.
Maybe I'm taking a leap of faith now…

I grew up with horrible mother, and two half-brothers (they had another father), with my father who was just a shadow; a constant threat.
I do believe he was a dangerous person, but I don't believe all that they said; especially since they lied so much about everything.

He kidnapped me once, although, I don't know if it's kidnapping when it's your own child.
I do have memories from when I was little, and at his house, I must've been 3 – 4 years old so the memory is distorted; but I don't remember the kidnapping.
But it was said I was locked inside a dark room with no windows.

So I was kept inside a lot during my childhood, being told stories of the boogeyman. He sued for custody and they ruled in his favor so my mother had to pay fine, every week or so, for not handing me over; he showed up on Saturdays, with people, ringing the door bell while I sat there in the dark.
That of course led us to not having any money.
However, the government wouldn't starve a child, but I don't know; I grew up on a steady diet of lies and I know money was wasted.
I couldn't reveal how bad things were at home because then everyone would, according to her, blame my mother.
We didn't have food, sometimes no electricity, and the home was a mess.
"Don't tell anyone! They'll put you in Foster care and who knows what kind of creeps will do things to you!" Says the whole family, always trying to brainwash me.
I was called names at home because I tried to go out and play but my clothes were worn out and so the neighbours would see how bad it is.
I had to "testify" every now and then, to them and the courts, that I didn't want to see my father.
It was of course true, what with everything they told me, but they coached me a lot.
Like they would play a tape from the court with my father saying that I only get ketchup and macaroni at home, while they bought me a pizza and say "Seeee, it's not true!", while I didn't get food other days; as a kid you go along with it.

My mother smoked a couple of packs a day, that didn't help with the finances, and she sent me out to neighbours to ask to loan money.
We had tons of animals; fish, mice, birds, cats, dogs, rabbit, I don't even know.
It was more important to give them a home and food than it was to give me that.
She did start to blame me very early on, and so did my half-brothers, for ruining their lives.
I just had to accept it and how grateful I should be towards them for taking care of me and not handing me out to the boogeyman; because we could do it! Remember that!.
At the same time they put the responsibility on me to "save them"; how I had to make it.
One day if put butter and some spice on a piece of bread, I was to become a Master Chef!; then the next day, or the same, I was told that I should've never been born.
It tore me apart…

The half-brothers left the home early, they're 10 and 15 years older than me, and I was left alone with her… Night or day, the door could just open like an explosion with a woman standing there crying and screaming her lungs out: You should never have been born, you should've given you away, I sacrificed so much, I should never have had kids, you've destroyed this whole family.
When I tried hiding, not looking, she would force my eyes open so I couldn't escape it…
They did suck up to me a lot just before 12 years old because at the age of 12 the courts said I was old enough to decide if I wanted to see my father or not.
After that they didn't have to put in effort.

Money was always an issue but, the times that I could have someone over (when it was semi-clean), I don't think anyone would've noticed. During the years I had a Commodore 64, I got a Sega Genesis, Sega Game Gear, a SNES, I think I got three bicycles, a playstation.
One half-brother wanted to do something with the C64 and broke it. (I later bought a used one for $10)
Sega Genesis? Nope, wasn't mine it turned out, so the games I've got from other people, or managed to buy myself, was taken or sold.
"Look how good people we are by giving you this stuff"; however, now we're starving so we're just going to sell your stuff so we can buy food for the 20 animals we have and also cigarettes so you won't have your stuff but you'll still be starving.
They sold my stuff, my toys, games. I even started getting bills in my name so I was just the garbage bin that you could treat however you wanted.
So they told, over and over again, how spoiled I was for having all that nice stuff, even though I didn't have it, after they sold it… yeah…
One bicycle I got was for my 15th birthday; they told me they hadn't bought me anything or done any preparation so at the end of the day one of the half-brothers put it a bike on his credit card.
That was it. We didn't eat or celebrate anything. They didn't want to.

On our version of Americas Funniest Homevideos (AFV) they had a competition at the end of the show where you could vote for your favourite clip by calling in, which I did, and I won a traveling check for $1500 (probably more at the time); I was 13 or 14 at the time.
So we sold it, paid of late rent, and sold the apartment so my mother could pay off her debts and buy stuff; I never got that money.
Well, I did get to pay for my own bed, since they threw mine away when we moved, that I still have to this day which is broken after 20 years.
I later saved up some money and bought a Playstation but that was somehow their gift to me. I had gotten a WipeOut for one of my birthdays: "We could afford the game; but not the console."

And when we moved, out of the I don't know how many animals, we had to put down the kitten I had; Fifi. -No…
-Oh yes, she's not housebroken, and it's your fault.
How many times didn't my mother care about the cats, and dogs, pissing and shitting everywhere?
Over the years we had at least 20 cats and 3 dogs, birds, fish, mice, etc. She was featured in the newspaper (before the move) because she was so nice and took care of so many animals.
The newspaper wanted me to be in the picture with my kitten; but noooooo…
The boogeyman could probably make a passport out of that picture; only I can be in the picture. Yeah…
I couldn't even be in the same room.

She smoked like a chimney. She told me she smoked while pregnant with me; but not when she was pregnant with the half-brothers.
She did quit when I was older (or so she said). She drank, not unreasonably as far as I could tell, but she always claimed she "didn't really" and had only been drunk once; but I know that wasn't true since I had seen her drunk.
She traveled to other countries!
Brought in animals from outside to take care of! Always tried to be the center of attention!
I've never been to any other country. I was stuck and I'm still stuck; but not for long. I was promised so many times that would travel here and there.

I did some door-to-door selling as a kid, selling books and magazines every Christmas, and I also sold snacks/candy during the summers. One time I made $70 and the family was drooling for that money.
Again, I bought games and such. I think I bought the used SNES with that money.
I was a Sega fanboy, and their magazine was really good, but I also wanted to play some Nintendo.
They sold it.
"You don't want us to starve? Riiiiiiight?" While buying cartons of cigarettes.

Most of the stuff I had was sold. They rented tables at place where you could sell your stuff.
I did keep some things that I wouldn't let go of (or they didn't manage to sell; because they tried).
I still have my Spider-man trading cards, that I worked so hard for, and I was going to make a video of it, but…
I'll try to do it.

I guess I'm explaining myself because I don't want anyone to think that everything was great because I could show them a picture of a SNES or Playstation.
My birthdays weren't better; one birthday I had friends over, when I was 10 or 11, and we didn't have anything. So they cut a loaf in half, put whipped cream in between, stuck some salty snacks (I guess it's straight pretzel), on it with some M&M's. No one wanted to eat it…

Like I said, after 12 they didn't have to pretend anymore or put in effort to keep me "happy". One half-brother had a job and got a girlfriend and some kids; he inherited his mothers ways. The other half-brother moved back home when we sold the apartment when I was 14.
They started ignoring me because "You don't have anything interesting to say".
They said that of course they lied about us traveling (although they traveled) so I would have something to look forward too; so many lies.

I never partied, I never drank, to this day I have never tried smoking or nicotine or done drugs.
But growing up with a smoker, and her smoking friends, I probably inhaled cartoons of cigarettes.
I lost the friends who did that, who became teenagers, and who wasn't as naive as I was.
Being sheltered and inside being told what the truth is you miss a lot of development.
Then I had the issues with home…

I was of course bullied basically my whole time in school and it only sort of stopped in 9th grade when I finally struck back; but I'm not a violent person.
The bullygroups and counseling didn't help. I was supposed to keep myself together and be the bigger person. A garbage bin everywhere I went.
I don't believe anyone didn't notice; they just didn't do anything.
I know some teachers noticed my belly was big (I was starving) and at home they thought it was funny that I looked just like a "starved African child".

When I was in kindergarten there was some problems with not affording the care, or not enough room, but I got to be there; but I didn't get to eat. I remember sitting in the hallway on the bench for shoes, crying, because the other children were eating.
In school, took as much food as I could, and was always thinking of the lunchbreak.
I too much food they said, you're wasting the food they said, so they had a horrible woman assigned to put food on my plate. She put soooo much food each and every time.
I couldn't go out to play so I had to sit inside while the other kids were playing; forced to eat until I had eaten it all. They stopped after awhile.

The days that were fieldtrips or outside activity I had to stay at home so no one would know we didn't have food; or I got two dry pieces of bread with some ketchup on it and a thermos with water. Summerbreaks were horrible because while I didn't like school; I wouldn't get food and I wouldn't get away from home.
I have many memories I don't want…
Lying on the bathroom floor, puking water, because I haven't anything else to eat. Sometimes she made bread out of flour and water, took some leafs from dandelions, and put mustard on it; everything a growing child needs. I still (but I'm reaaaally trying) have problem with olive oil since I had to eat a flour, olive oil, cocoa powder mix for like a week.
She couldn't/wouldn't cook, clean, or anything; but don't forget that it's my fault. They did put up a schedule when I was younger and I would get like 20 cents to take out the garbage or do the dishes, so I did; and I would get paid at the end of the month.
After a couple of months I was told "We don't have any money so how could we pay you? You should be doing these things anyway!" from people that keeps the place a mess…

So, with everything going on, I was supposed to get grades and I couldn't do it; I couldn't focus.
I had to sit with extra help with maths and many times more when I was failing a subject; I even had to sit with teachers to reach the next grade (for older kids).

Around the 9th grade I stopped talking. I know some people who approached me later saying that they thought I was a weirdo, etc., since I didn't say anything. I had the problems in school, and at home; and they ignored me, as I said. When we sold the apartment, as I mentioned, one half-brother moved back home; the new apartment. Then he found a girlfriend and moved out so we had to move again.

I didn't get any food at home but my mother started giving me the states childcare money; so I had that; I think it was $90.
I still had at least one friend left that I hung out with that was two years younger than me. Part of the money I got, I saved (hid) and I bought the used Playstation I mentioned.
When I was 14 or 15 Social Services said: You're big now! You have to provide for the household!
So I had to work during the summers, 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., for $4 an hour to support the household.
I did get to keep some of that and I bought another used Playstation.
I bought some games, ex: Parasite Eve, Final Fantasy VII, VIII, and Tactics, I had WipeOut and got the other games; almost everything was used.
I loved Final Fantasy and I have ideas that I wanted to share with Square/Enix (back then it was Squaresoft). Someone borrowed VII and never returned it; claimed he lent it to someone that didn't return it to him. I never got it back. I suspect my mother stole VIII and sold it; it just vanished.
Of course, my mother, the half-brother, and his girlfriend comes to me and.. oh.. we're starving..

Yeah, you know where this is going..

I never got to finished Tactics; I've thought many times about giving it a go, but I don't know, I guess the thought of it takes me back there.

Like I said, I was the sacrifice, these people didn't sell their stuff.
My half-brother didn't sell his consoles.
-Do you really want us to starve?

Now I didn't have any games, and they shut off the electricity, I stopped talking.
I was locked in room with no escape.
Trapped.

I failed school of course.
The teacher promised me a passing grade in maths but she lied it turned out.
So I was 15 and just before I stopped talking completely the other half-brother who had a girlfriend, a house, a job, said he wanted us to go to Italy and visit their cousin there.
We were going to ride on a motorcycle there.
We made plans and we looked at the route through the countries.
I had tried turning to him when I was bullied but he said "Maybe you're the problem; not them."
But you're hit in the head over and over that "It's family! You got be there for each other!".
So he laughs at me and says:
-I can't go to Italy!
-But… you said you wanted us to go; we started making plans?
-I have a girlfriend and kids; of course I can't go to Italy! Don't be stupid!

I cut him out of my life then and there.
He came into my room once and wanted to talk to me and told him:
-I was serious; I'm never speaking to you ever again.
-You don't mean that.
-Yes, I do…

I have never spoken to him again.
Of course my mother and the other half-brother blamed me, and I was called the devil and many other names; and all the screaming and crying escalated. She was going to kill herself all the time.
Taking scissors to her wrists and telling me to leave or she'll kill herself or kill herself this way or that way.
I didn't talk to her.
Another example that also happened several times, though the one remember strongest, was I walking towards the bathroom and she was standing in the hallway.
She was smiling and looked at me and said:
-I should never have had kids; you only ruined my life.
One time went into the kitchen and she was there.
She took a kitchen knife and dragged it across her stomach and said: -I should have cut you out while I was pregnant with you; you're nothing but a torment to this family……
I didn't hear the rest because I walked away.
Fairly early on she stopped talking to her friends, I think because she envied their lives, and she stopped working; I guess you figured that out since I mentioned Social Services.
So she was always at home…

So, like I said, I stopped speaking.
I tried to speak in school and I did talk (but not much) to the friend I had. The family had their drama and even though I didn't utter a word my mother was either blaming me for destroying the family and not talking to my half-brother or she came in and said he was horrible and how I was right all along.

I think she was worried that people would blame her for my behavior so she contacted Social Services when I was 16, I think.
I tried talking.
I told the state worker that we didn't have electricity and no food.
-Then you can read books or go for a walk!

They switched state workers and you can believe I had problems talking to that person…
But she said:
-This isn't good; I think it's best we get you out of there.

So at 17 I got to live at a "Collective" for troubled youths; drugs, violence, etc.; since I wasn't 18 I couldn't have my own apartment.
There were people working there from morning to night and they walked in on me naked several times and didn't give a shit about my privacy; just unlocked the door and walked in just because they had the right to.
I just needed to be left alone for awhile.
Of course they kept pestering me about "It's family! Your mom loves you soooo much! Talk to her!"
It all became too much and I left; didn't care if I was homeless. I've been threatened with it so much growing up and throughout the years.

Someone that was friends with one of my half-brothers was a really nice guy and he was moving to another city and he said that I could stay in his apartment; he left a bed, tv, movies, and food.
Then as I was approaching 18 I could get an apartment, not in my name, but with the state on the lease.
So I moved into that place.

Before that you can go to something that's like High School but you have to have a passing grades in specific three subjects; I think I failed math only (might be two subjects I failed).
With everything going on at home, I didn't care, but I went to school to get the grades; as long as I wasn't at home. I was still very childish at that point; well, more childish.
I got interested in music but had another one of many horrible teachers that didn't teach me anything; he told me not to sing "Because you can't; you'll embarrass yourself" but other people told me to sing. "You're too old to start learning guitar at 16; you need to start when you're like 5 – 6".
I think he was annoyed because I was going to class for painting/art, having the music on the side, but I was doing better than his students.

So, usually people go to the High School thing for 3 years and I went for 1 year that I didn't care about anything; didn't get the grades. Then I thought that I have to do something with my life; I need to get out of this.
So I went a second year there and got my grades while I moved to the collective.
Then I got accepted into a full 3 year program while living there and moved when I turned 18.

At that time, with everyone pressuring me, I started talking to my mother and half-brother.
Yeah, she sent letters and messages that I didn't respond to.
Always negative stuff.

I made music, I got played on radio, I got some good reviews (but the quality was horrible).
I made the music on a AMD 233Mhz with the on-board soundcard.
Hey, you got to work with what you've got. I performed some stuff live.
Even though I feel hollow and rotten; it was brightness in my life.
The school turned to be horrible and I tried changing but was denied.
One teacher told me the other teachers don't like me and I said I already knew that.
He didn't know why and neither did I; but I have my suspicions.

So music was the way to go, but I wanted to paint and do artistic stuff, before music (and very much still) I wanted to make movies.
But I can't practice, I can't do homework, I can't concentrate, I can't function; I never could… why?
I was yet again (as always) failing in school, what I did, and wanted to do.
I grew up knowing how spoiled I was and how good I had it; even though it was all bad.
I must be lazy, why am I lazy?

As I said, I did start talking to my half-brother, and mother.
Drama, drama, drama.
None in the family had finished "High School" and my mother was screaming and crying about how I can't fail, etc., that negativity didn't help me, of course.
He said; she said. Mother and half-brother with his girlfriend and now they had a child, going:
-Can you loan us money? Well, can you sell something?
If I said no, well then, how could I? After everything they've done!

I finished school; I passed.
I didn't have the grades so they took the grades I had from the two earlier years and combined them with the new grades.
I had a lot of problems with the teachers.
One subject I put a lot of effort into I was hoping for the highest grade (Best, Middle, Passed, and failed).
The teacher put out a bowl of candy for everyone while we individually went into another room to talk about our grades with the teacher.
We were alone and she smiled:
-You've been failing this subject; but I'm giving you the passing grade.
-What…?
-You've been failing this subject; but I'm giving you the passing grade.
-This is ridiculous.
So I went into the classroom, poured most of the candy from the big bowl into a bag I had with me and I sad:
-I should at least get something.
When I received the grades I saw I got a middle grade.
Just something I thought of.

The final day in school was horrible.
I didn't have a suit, any money, and.. some other stuff happened. Some people just have to say hurtful things about you and I got remarks about my clothing of course.
I didn't want to speak to one of my horrible teachers and she actually took it as I was just too sad that school was over; I tried switching schools!
So my mothers brother and his wife came to visit.
We went to the place I escaped, where my mother still lived, and… Of course we can't come in because she hasn't cleaned.
All the screaming and crying about how I have to pass… She said: -I know you probably expected "food item I like" but we don't have any money.
So she had made soup.
It definitely had water in it, might've seen a piece of carrot or something.
No one ate it because what we all could see was that it was full of dog hair.
Didn't really matter that she tried to scoop it out; it never ended. Her brother and his wife drove me home.
Gave me a bottle of distilled blackcurrant wine, or something, and a $50.
I declined the money, but.. they saw how bad it was and just put in my hand.

Anyway, after that I did military service which lasts for 7,5 months.
I had issues there as well and the boogeyman, my father, died while I was on some guard duty while we were training for conflict in a city.

I had had no contact with him other than he walked up to me while one time when I was 19 maybe and told him in a very colorful way to stay away from.
He also sent me some letter saying his relatives wanted to meet me or something.
So now I get leave from the military service to see the dead boogeyman on the table, at the morgue, but I can't let it go.
With all the threats, and having to flee to live at women's shelter as a kid, and.. just.. everything.. I can't let it go.
The fears are still there and I think I will see him when I pass every corner or look outside.

I went back to continue my service, but after just a week or two, I was contacted because I was his only child. Now the burden is on me to take care of his stuff.
So I have to go inside the apartment of the boogeyman and… move stuff out and dig through everything.
It was a horrible experience and I didn't want to do it.
It took me a couple of weeks and my mother was so sorry he was dead… But she and and my half-brother loved the idea of going through his stuff.
I let the vultures do what they want.
I didn't want anything.
He had a baby photo of me, a very old video camera in great condition, and a really thick roll of plastic, I guess floor covering, that still haven't run out; I kept that. I also kept a soldering iron, but that's about it I think. I sold the old video camera.
Of course my mother made me keep keep more stuff that I didn't want; computers, drives, CD's, floppies, and vhs-tapes.
There could be important information on them! DRAMA! I've since then thrown everything out except for the picture and roll of plastic.
I didn't check what was on them.
There was a cassette-tape hidden in the vacuum-cleaner that I sent to the police but they didn't find anything of interest on them.

I finished my military service and I was about 22, I think.

Since I didn't speak to the other half-brother, which I constantly was given crap for, they spent every Christmas with him and his family and some Christmases they "celebrated" with me afterwards.
I think I was 15 when they gave me the Alien Trilogy for Christmas and they told me:
-You're not a child anymore so you won't get anymore nice presents.
It's not that I've ever been ungrateful; but it shows you how spoiled they thought I was.

Like I said they gave me crap for not talking to the half-brother and they totally understood why I didn't the next moment. I was told he was diagnosed with "Borderline".
And as also said; he inherited her behavior.
I had to babysit his kids at his house all day while he and his girlfriend were working; but I wasn't allowed to eat.
One time he said:
-Okay, you can eat.
He gave me an egg, a potato, and a tomato.
And his girlfriend had to supervise so I didn't take anything else.
He did stuff like play with a keyboard but I was only allowed to watch because it was his stuff.
He often said he was the center of the family and the relatives; the one holding everything together. One night he was going to kill us (me, his brother, his daughter, and our mother) and started driving in the wrong lane. I was asleep and was suddenly pulled out of a vehicle in the middle of nowhere.
I think I was 11 or 12.
He was trying to kill my mother another time when he tried to push a big cupboard, or something, on her.
Anyway, a long walk all night.
We reached a town early morning and broke into a hotel, stole ice-cream, and spent money on a train to get home.

"But it's faaaamily! You're a bad person if you don't talk to them!"

Again, there's so much stuff that has happened and it's just too much; including all the manipulations and mind-games and horrible things I can't mention.

So, back at Christmas at 22.
My mother, in front of my half-brother, gives me a "World's Best Son" book.
The other half-brother has been bad overall; this one has tried to be there for mother aaaaall the time. He wanted to make her happy and all that.
I get the "World's Best Son".
He was not happy at all.
He gave me a replica of the ring and necklace from Lord of The Rings; because I too have had heavy burden to carry.
I tried spending time with him since he had no friends and stayed at his place when he first moved out when I was younger, but when he got a girlfriend that became everything; my purpose was fulfilled. He told me.

On my birthday, I think it was when I turned 23, I was over at his place but he didn't want to talk to me. He made clear earlier that he has a girlfriend and a child, etc.
He watched TV and so did his girlfriend.
I got an old used Ericsson cellphone that they still had laying around since the middle of the 90's, that I'm pretty sure was mine at one time, and half a pizza.
-Can't afford a whole pizza.
Then my mother started complaining about her life and how bad it is and how everyone is out to get her and…
I had enough.
Stop.
I told them then and there that I don't view them as my family; they're just people.
Half-brother didn't care; mother went crazy.
She started screaming of how bad her life is and how much she's sacrificed but then I started screaming.
Told them about how much shit they've put me through.
Didn't matter, no one cared, and mother was going to kill herself, for real this time, sure. She ran out.

Since he didn't speak to me because, he has a family, his girlfriend gave me a framed picture of their daughter; I kept that.
It was night, the rain was pouring down, and I walked home; around 8-10km.
A week or so later I was waiting for someone downtown and my mother came out of a restaurant and approached me saying that I know how much she loves me.
I told her to never speak to me again.

I haven't spoken to her since.
She's sent letters blaming me for everything and so forth; but I'll never respond. I knew we were done but I still tried and wish the half-brother a happy birthday.
He didn't want to speak to me so I told his girlfriend to tell him; she did. -What did he say? -He heard it.

Every last one of my so called family have blamed me for their problems and told me I ruined their lives; all of them. Like I said; him and his chain-smoking girlfriend sold my stuff before selling their own.

Now… Moving on with my life.
I've got friends and yeah, I don't feel good about anything, but I'm trying.
I will not end up like them.

But, you know where it ends, yo, it usually depends on where you start…

So I've tried working, studying, gone through every available political program for the job market, I have a million ideas but I can't finish anything; I'm broken.
I don't understand what's wrong.

You know, I have a problem with emotions in a way.
I can take the bad criticism; but I can't the take good.
I don't want anyone to end up like me and I want to help people; I really, really do. But I can't help myself… I went through a job market program that guaranteed me a place at the university to become a teacher; first I had to complete a one year internship in every class from kindergarten to the 9th grade.
I wanted to become a better teacher than the ones I had. Maybe I could help the ones who had it difficult to get through school; I don't want anyone to become who I am. I lasted like a month or two. I started in the 5th and 6th grade and the teachers didn't accept me. I dropped out when I was at the kindergarten; but it was great there. Reading stories, playing with Lego, doing creative stuff.
But kids are good at noticing stuff sometimes, they can also be brutally honest, and I didn't want them to notice that I wasn't happy; the last thing I want to do what has been done to me. What finally pulled me under was a letter from my mother again blaming me and talking about how bad her life is.

What has happened a lot of times… I can shower, shave, make myself ready. I stand at the door, fully dresses and ready, but I can't open it. There's an invisible wall in front of me. So, I go back to bed.

I didn't go back to the program. They kindergarten called them and said they wanted me back, but..

What is wrong…

Social services treat me like shit.. They deny me social security, they make mistakes, and I have to take it. So many times.
I have to send papers and stuff to the courts that handled social cases.
If you're denied by social services, and you appeal it, it's sent to the courts and you can send along papers.

I was in dire need of food, applied for emergency food-money; denied. 4 months later the courts rule that I did was entitled to get that money. It's much stuff here that I'm not getting into but I have not been treated well.
I'm close to getting evicted several times.
It's not fun to come home with a notice on your door that says they're locking the door to your apartment that same week and you have nowhere else to go.

I've been bailed out by friends several times, but why am I so lazy? Why can't I just work?
Why is this happening? I can't keep the jobs I get.

After I've tried and failed so many times.
I managed to do something I never thought I would; I got accepted to the university.
I was learning music production.
Failing… but I managed to get to the third semester and I got good feedback on my work. That was in 2010.
Suddenly, everything came to a stop.

I couldn't pretend anymore. I can't do it. When I was going to one of those political job programs, when I was 23 – 24, I told them that I think I need to talk to someone; a psychologist.
They said they knew of one I could call; but stuff happened at the program, we had a falling out, and I left.

Now, it's 2010, I think I was still 27.
Along the way I had lost my friends, girlfriends, and some people took more energy than what they gave.
I was alone.
Sometimes I couldn't afford food or internet so I was stuck with my never ending pondering (if that's the right word; negative thoughts) for months at a time and starving.

I couldn't go on.
I always fail; but my ideas are good. Songs I've written (hundreds), I have ideas for movies, for tv-shows, for video games; I just want to create.
I just stopped going; no one called to see what happened.
No one.
In a class of 10 people.

I finally ask for help from my health center.
The doctor tells me I'm fine; no problems.
I tell him no… but I'm wrong.
I'm just so depleted and I tell him I have no idea what to do.
So he sends me to their counselor.

I shit you not, she tells I'm fine and I should read a book and go for walk; just as when I was 16. That didn't help me and I get to see another doctor who also tells me I'm fine. He told me that I didn't need to see anyone "Go to church!", he told me. I said I need to talk to someone; I need help because I'm not okay. He told me that they don't offer that kind of help and the only thing I could do was to go to the emergency psychiatric unit. I said that it's not what I need. So he gave me anti-depressants. I haven't done drugs, etc. I don't want that. But he says that's his treatment; take them.
Fine, this is what my life as become. I take them, and I get severe cramps, the information says that if you get cramps from the medication to contact your doctor.
He tells me I'm making it all up because I read in the information.
I tell him no and that I won't take them anymore; so he gives me something else.
Nothing gets better.

I continue to ask him if I could see a psychologist or something. It ends with him screaming "FINE! I'LL SEND YOU TO ONE!"
So, it's 2011, and I get to see a psychologist, two or three times, at the Psychiatric ward (Psychiatry).

You have to realize that everything above is not something that I've told people; not everything.
And there is so much stuff that I still can't talk about; I can't do it. I have always believed that I was spoiled and I ruined their lives and every time I try to get out of it and think differently I get pulled back in.

However, I tell the psychologist some things and she determines that I need to see a therapist.
There's a guarantee that when they make a decision, when you contact them the first time, they have to do it within 3 months.
It was march..
April, may, june, juli, august… I call them at the end of august and wondering why I'm not getting help.
-Oh? Well, there's no queue or anything; we just forgot you!

So in september they hastily send me to a therapist who's contract with the municipality was just about to end.
So not only was it difficult because of that, it's difficult to open up about things when you've been told over and over again that you can't do it because bad things will happen; you're not allowed too.

I started explaining my problems.
I think it was the same meeting that I told her about a game I played (Final Fantasy VII) and when you encounter an enemy in the game the image freezes and breaks like glass, and how as a kid I started doing that with every horrible memories I can't keep out, that she told me that I have PTSD.
It was a coping mechanism, but… it doesn't work.
She gave me the diagnosis of Dysthymia and PTSD. Time's up, the year has ended, and so has her contract.

She sent a recommendation to the Psychiatry that I need more help.
I have to wait. And they give me anti-depressants like it was candy.
With one doctor I entered his office, he sat at the computer, and while I was in the motion of sitting down he said; Let's try Lyrica. -That's it, bye! I literally sat down, got back up, he told me to try the medication, and I walked.
Couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes.

They send me to another therapist to start all over. She gives me the diagnosis of Dysthymia and PTSD. She also told me that I need to learn how to be angry. In all my years and all my anger and sorrow I want to be better than what I'm expected to be. I don't want to become a stereotype because of everything that's happened. When you spend years alone without leaving your apartment for weeks at a time and you have no internet; you think.
I'm stuck with my thoughts and can't escape them.

Time's up, you're only allowed a certain amount of hours.
I've been told that it's only 10h today because "People shouldn't become dependent on their psychiatrist".

It's the end of 2013 and now we're in 2014.
The state is still on the lease for my apartment and they want to get rid of me.
I considered applying for a investigation; so I can find out if there's something else wrong with me. The state workers that check in on the people live in the apartments have helped me out and I now tell them about my problems.
One of them tells me that what I'm describing sounds just like her kids that have ADHD. They encourage me to apply for the investigation.

I meet someone at the Psychiatry in march of 2014.
She tells me "You should be grateful if you get the investigation because not everyone gets one."; everyone tells me how grateful I should be while I still get shitty letters from my mother telling me how good of a person she is and I judged her too hard because she was such a good mother to me, and she gave up her life, and so forth.

I don't know if I'll get an investigation.
After nearly one and a half years I get a letter from the Psychiatry saying that I get the investigation.
I stopped eating anti-depressants and immediately felt better. I put on a lot of weight.
Some of them just made me eat, and eat, I could've won an eating competition against The Blob. I weighed 85kg when I started, and because the starving growing up and not learning cooking or about calories, etc., I already had a problem with food. In spring of 2015 I had reached 120kg; that was it.
No more medication.
I did feel much better and in under two weeks I went down to 106kg; I know it isn't healthy. I ate supplements, drank a ton of water, and walked 11km every day.

Candy-depressants… To solve all my problems; I was given: Citalopram, one I can't remember the name of, Mirtazapin, Sertralin, Lyrica, Voxra, Lergigan, Theralen, Atarax, more Sertralin, and I stopped.

Now. Let's begin. This is where it ends… and why I'm writing this. When I started the investigation.

Alas, in more ways than one I've reached my limit (character limit).
I don't expect anyone to read all of this but things have become unsolvable and I'm just letting some stuff out.

Don't know if you can make two parters when it comes to posts here.
If you read all of this; thanks.
If you're looking for the TL;DR; don't have one.
I just needed to write it down, while could get it out; though I noticed I forgot some words here and there.

Thanks.

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