First of all, I'm very new around here. Hi. Um.. I.. I apologize in advance if this belongs somewhere else. But I.. you guys, the Tropers, seem like nice, kind people. From looking at the actual site. You seem sympathetic and caring. So I.. I just want to see if someone could help me somehow.
I'm in a bit of a troublesome situation. It's like a minor "And I Must Scream." Moreso because I CAN'T scream, 'cause this is a very tiny flat. Apartment. The situation literally takes hours and hours to explain, but I want to try giving a short version of it.
Right. Well. My name is Jordan; I am fifteen years old, and I am experiencing a sort of existential crisis, doubled with an overwhelming sense of isolation, and a developing case of complex post-traumatic stress disorder. In progressive rock terms, I'm building the wall. I also have odd trust issues. I trust just about anybody, which is why I'm sharing this very personal story right now.
I am British, I have two older brothers, still-married parents, and an epileptic mother. I was born in England, in Ashford of Middlesex county. I lived in England until I was six, when my dad was offered a job in the States. So we moved to Sandy Springs, Georgia, where we lived for nine years. I didn't make many friends for most of the years, but for now, let's move to the main part of my ramble. The year of 2009.
FIRST OF ALL. Late, late 2008, my then-47-year old father was beginning his mid-life crisis. He started cheating on my mum. December of 2008, we moved to a very tiny apartment in Sandy Springs. This is where things really start.
2009. My dad starts.... changing. He starts getting mad more frequently, and taking it out on whoever got in his way. Since we were in a tiny apartment, this meant us. And since I was hitting the age where I question everything, that especially meant me. He didn't do much then, though. He'd just yell and yell and yell. Frequent insults. On two occasions, though, in one week, he kicked me out of the apartment for "thinking backwards." First incident was because I didn't know what he meant by "pie." He meant meat pie, I thought he meant fruit pie. Second time, I can't remember the reason.
Things were very stressful in that apartment, 'cause I didn't have any friends at school, so I spent a long time at home. I eventually got afraid to even leave my own room, 'cause my dad was mad so much. Then, in March, my mum found out he was cheating on her and.. all hell broke loose. A LOT happened then, yet at the same time, nothing did. When my mum first told us about what was happening, I was the only person to defend my dad. We only knew the story my mum was telling, after all. Calling my dad bad things was prejudice. I loved my dad. I.. I still do. Unconditional love. He's my father. But, since I defended him, I became the enemy of my mother and two brothers. I also was STILL the target of a lot of harassment from my dad; he never thanked me for defending him.
ANYWAY. May of '09, we moved to another apartment, nothing happened for a few months. July-ish, we moved back into the house we were ORIGINALLY living in. One day, my oldest brother (Adam) ran away from home (relations between my parents were still.. bad. The word "divorce" was thrown around like a playground insult; Adam couldn't take it). For that day, a LOT of arguments spawned at home. My older brother (Nathan) and my mum sorta revealed their scornful feelings towards me. That night, my dad snapped and accused us all of not supporting him. He then left us and drove off. My mum and Nathan went off to find him. I was left alone at around 11 PM, alone to worry. I cried a lot that night! I mean.. I supported my dad. D: I did! I was the only one who did. Anyway, they suddenly showed up at 1 in the morning, all happy and normal. They didn't tell me what had happened, and just told me to go to bed. I did, but I was still rather shaken, y'know?
We remained "normal" for about a month. Then August came around. My dad had lost his job sometime that year, and we needed to sell our house, so one Saturday, we focused on cleaning things up so someone can come 'round and look at things. My two brothers and I were in my room, cleaning things. They were sorta yelling to each other when my dad yelled something to me from the other room. I couldn't hear a thing with all the yelling, so I shouted "SHUT UP!" And then my dad came in, and he punched me in the face. Around my right eye. I stumbled backward and fell onto a table (an act he would later call me a "pussy" for doing). We.. got into a scuffle. My brothers just stood and watched. It turns out my dad shouted to ask if I wanted a box to put things in, by the way. At the end of the scuffle, I apologized, and people left my room. Later, my dad came back in and held me down to my bed and.. I actually don't remember what happened that time. I just remember him holding me down, and me screaming for help. It ended shortly, and I apologized to him again, and we got on with our lives. ..the people who were supposed to stop by to take a look at things never showed up, annoyingly.
September, nothing really happened, to my recollection. October! Uh.. it was a Monday. I was being picked up from school, and taken to a music shop to get my clarinet fixed. On the way, I got into another argument with my dad, and I ended up getting kicked out of the car in the middle of town. He drove off, and I wandered around, scared. I honestly don't remember how this incident ended, but I know I was safe at home by the end of the day. One week later, on a TUESDAY, it was dinnertime. My dad asked if I wanted a glass of water, and I respectfully declined. We then got into an argument about how I'm backwards (since I can't drink water without throwing it back up). He then grabbed me and dragged me to the back door, and was about to throw me down some stairs before my mum told him not to. So I was simply locked out. At this point, I was fed up, so I just wandered off. I shouldn't have done that. >.< A few hours later, I came back, and my dad yelled at me so much while I cried. I don't recall the whole lecture, but I distinctly remember "You are just a waste of time. I should just ship you back to England, you little piece of shit," and something about how my mum should have had an abortion. In the end, I apologized, and all was good for a while.
Note: My dad ended his affair in November of 2009. My mum was still super paranoid towards him, but things seemed to be getting better.
Another peculiarity is that I'm CERTAIN that something major happened in the winter of 2009, but I cannot for the life of me remember any of it. So, the next incident I will tell you of takes place in January of 2010. The day before Martin Luther King Jr Day. Father, mother, Nathan, and myself, were gathered in the living room. Dad asked me if I wanted to watch a movie. I declined. We got into another little argument about how backwards I am, climaxing with "You're a little pile of shit," followed by me getting up to get out. My dad mistook this for a threat and kicked me in the balls, knocking me back down. While the August incident was a scuffle, this was more of a pummeling, as I kept trying to get up and run, but was repeatedly kicked in the nads. I then huddled into the fetal position as my dad just continued to pound at my back. My mum and Nathan were just sitting there. All of a sudden, my dad grabbed my chair and flipped it over, sending me onto the ground. As I fell, I reached for some support, and I hit my mother by accident. She must have ran to us as my dad grabbed the chair, I imagine. But I hit her. >.< Nathan saw me hit her and thought it was on purpose, then proceeded to join my dad in kicking and whacking me while I'm sprawled on the ground, crying. That night ended with me apologizing to all three of them and going to my room. The next day, my dad would yell at me again, much like he did in October.
The results of that incident, by the way, were a flood of bruises all over my body, and a bad case of rug burn on the back of my neck. I went to the school's counselor about it, but she was unable to help me. I also only spoke to her once. I.. I don't know! I really don't remember too much about early 2010; I'm sorry. I DO know that I finally got my first real friends in 9th grade, though, and they were helping me deal with stress. Then summer came.
You see, financially, we were in a bit of a bind. My dad couldn't get another job, and we were soon going to lose the house. Then my dad is offered a job back in England, which he accepts. It starts in August, and we learn in May. So I spend the summer hanging out with people, and that's how I find out what it's like to actually be loved by people. =/ People were gonna miss me, and I was going to miss them, as well. But the summer also had its low points.
One night in June, I can't remember anything besides being caught in a headlock (given by my dad) in my room, and a LOT of yelling. And many, many times, my dad openly told me how much he REALLY doesn't want me to go with him to England. He doesn't want to put up with me. Also, at least four times in that summer, I had panic attacks. I seem to recall them being my first panic attacks, as well. They weren't exactly pleasant, of course, but Nathan made one worse by taking the opportunity to call me "too emotional," and things like that, during one.
Then! August 7th, 2010! We moved to Windsor of Berkshire county, England. We currently live in a tiny flat, except Nathan, who went to university in Georgia. Within the first month, I looked for schools to go to, and found only one. And it was full. Like, even the cops tried to help me with that, but they couldn't. So I'm stranded at home. And I'm five hours ahead of my friends, so I have to go online rather late if I want to talk to them. Though that's not impossible, since I have nothing to do in the day.
Ah. October. One day, I thought we had run out of cheese, and decided to get a new block from the store. My dad came home that night and yelled the heck at me. Turns out we WEREN'T out of cheese, and I just wasted 2 pounds. He then sorta kicked me out of the flat. So there I was, 7:30 in the evening, in a T-shirt and no shoes or socks, in England in October. It.. it was cold. o.o But then, the surprise came fifteen minutes later when I tried to get back in so I could apologize. My dad wouldn't LET me back in. "Dad, do you have any idea how cold it is out here?" "Yeah, I do. But I don't care, 'cause it's warm and toasty in here!" I wandered off and found a hotel. I went in to warm up. Unfortunately, the hotel couldn't accommodate a minor, so they called the police for me. The police gave me a ride back, and gave my dad a scolding. This only angered my dad, unfortunately. From then on, my dad HATED/STILL HATES me for "calling the police on him." Even though it was the hotel.
Now, that's where the incidents stop and I can tell you about the actual SITUATION I'm in. My room is only inches bigger than my bed, and even when the radiator is on full blast, my whole body is numb. I've made a habit of staying up all night and sleeping in the day, since I don't have ANYTHING to do in the day (not even EAT, which I'll get to in a bit), and my friends don't get home from school until at least 4 PM EST (9 PM here). So my mum gets this laptop in the day, and I get it at night, though usually not until at least midnight. So, if I WERE to stay awake in the day time, let me tell you what my schedule would consist of.
Sit in the living room, waiting for night to fall, lost in my increasingly-suicidal thoughts. Occasionally play some Rock Band when I get the chance.
I much prefer staying awake at night, when I have the laptop. Now, on to food! My dad is rather obsessed with not spending much money at the supermarket. He's been getting less and less food lately, and the last time we even went shopping was three weeks ago. My dad claims he got "three weeks' worth of food for less than the price of one," but HOW he did that is apparent since we ran out of food a week and a half ago. Example of our food situation! Thanksgiving passed, didn't it? Thursday? Yeah, on that day, all I had to eat was half a plate of chips (fries, whatever). The day after it, my dinner was four "fun-sized" candy bars. I'm currently really, really hungry.
I've been using escapism a lot lately. Like.. a LOT. I'll play Rock Band to escape (as I've been doing since January of 2009 o_o), and occasionally I might take a walk, but I've even taken to zoning out lately. I have NEVER zoned out before until recently. I just.. blank out for some minutes. It helps. Hell, I've even started SLEEPING to escape. Oh, and before you ask, yes, I see a counselor. I see one every Thursday, though I missed the chance this week, unfortunately.
I used to be a very, very talkative person. A very, very optimistic person, as well. And very outgoing. Lately, I've gotten.. quieter. Shyer. I won't even talk to my parents much anymore. I'm just scared of what they'll say, or how angry they'll get. Also, being away from the only friends I've ever had means I can only sit and watch on Facebook as they go and have their happy lives, meeting new friends and having all the fun I've always wanted. I even used to have a wife on Facebook at one point. Nothing even remotely serious; we were just good friends. But then I moved, and I haven't.. really.. talked as much. So she kinda left me.
Now. A couple other things of note. First of all, Adam, the brother I'm left with, is not much company. Ever. When I was twelve, he pointed a knife at me for calling him a "zucchini" (my parents gave him a minor scolding and yelled at me for provoking him). When I was thirteen, I had to talk him out of killing himself (my parents just didn't care). Adam is a severe introvert. He has Asperger's, and does NOT like other people. Not saying the two are related, sorry. I have a minor form of Asperger's, myself, though I'm sure it was a misdiagnosis, as I sound like I have PDD-NOS, instead. Anyway, Adam spends his days in his room, and threatens to kill all of us about 80% of the time. My parents don't really pay much attention to him, though. ..he made me sleep in the closet a lot when I shared a room with him. And he has no job, got kicked out of college, and he's 22. I.. don't really like him. Right now, he sleeps in the living room, which is oddly HOTTER and roomier than my room.
Then there's Nathan, in college right now. I always looked up to him. He's a great brother. He doesn't really stick up for me, or.. really care about me, but he's VERY popular at school, and really good at lots of things, and I try to be like him sometimes. He's my role model, you know? He's coming over with his girlfriend for Christmas, and I'm really excited about that. BUT, I am increasingly worried that, when he visits, he just won't be himself, and it'll be like I don't even know him anymore. ._. I really don't want to be abandoned by him, as well. I want someone to not hate me.
Now, my biggest worry is that, when I turn sixteen in January, my dad will kick me out for good. 'Cause.. a similar thing happened with his sister. ....just throwing that out there, sorry! >.<
Um.. that's about it for the short version of my story. I really want to stress that I feel overwhelmingly isolated, and depressed and lonely... and.. agh. I.. I didn't really make this topic for any reason besides.. I want to make my story known. I want to make some more friends. I don't want to continue feeling so hated. >__< And I REALLY want a hug. I haven't had a hug in almost four months now. D: But, from you guys, I'm hoping for the first two. The hug would be a little hard.. over the internet.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask them. I want to help people understand what the heck is going on.
..so yeah. Hi. I'm Jordan (or DJay). I... ah, I probably really messed up in posting this here. D: Sorry in advance.
edited 24th Feb '11 1:13:00 AM by DJay32
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