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I Try To Forget But Can't (Updated 2012/10/28)

I was born in Canada and moved to Mexico about a month after entering the world. I lived there with my mom, biological father and a few years into my stay in Mexico my brother would be born. I was in Mexico for the first 5 years of my life. The physical abuse started before I was born, my dad would punch my mom in the stomach and beat her. I can remember from about 3-4 years old and on. My dad wasn't an alcoholic or drug addict, I wish I could blame the abuse on that. Certain times really stand out for me, even after all these years. I find myself going through my life and certain things will happen, or I will see something, hear something and the memories come flooding back, ugly images of being a scared, powerless child and blow after blow raining down on me. My father would use many parts of his body, fists, feet, nails and various instruments, leather belts, pointy toed boots to inflict pain on me. As I write this I find a knot aching in my stomach, and I find myself asking WHY? The why for some reason is what eats at me, its what hurts me. Though I can understand that there is probably no practical or worthwhile reason to go to the why, nevertheless I can't help it. As I write this I have learned just know as I write that the why is perhaps the most painful part of it all and it is what perpetuates the feelings as an adult that I carry of never wanting to be a burden, keeping things inside, I suffer in silence. For I know what happens when I let others see any inkling of sadness, hurt, or pain. I know all to well, it is used against me to hurt me even more. So even as an adult, yes I remember specific beatings, I remember my mother having her jaw cracked, I remember being whipped naked with a belt, the cold leather stinging my naked flesh, I can remember getting sick in the middle of the night to and trying to hide the mess and not going to tell my mom that I was sick even though it hurt so bad because of fear of being beaten, ridiculed, yelled in my face how much of a baby, a *****, a little girl I was. How disgusting I was. I try and try with all my might not to go back there. I am not mentally challenged. I am able to intellectually understand that it doesn't to anything productive for me to go to that place. Yet somehow, I end up back there. I end up an adult in age and size yet inside I am a scared, hurt little boy. I wonder what is it like to run to your father, into his arms and receive a warm embrace? It's so stupid, I feel so embarrassed even saying that, but I wonder and think about that. And it hurts. I never had that and I never will. I for the most part don't bother to even put these thoughts and feelings out there. As I do I hear a voice within say so what, get over it, you deserved it, you must have, quit being a little ***** I think to myself, something my father often said and would then beat me to teach me to not be that way. I write this and find myself hesitating. I felt the need to revise certain specifics, graphic accounts that I had written. However I do not write this for shock value or pity and most of all I do not want to bring hurt, or trauma to anybody if anyone should read this. So I am mindful of this, yet this is my experience, it's how my life was and how it is all these years later. I think most of all what I am realizing and trying to share is that yes, all these years later the physical bruises, the cuts and welts from bring whipped, they can not be seen, they have healed so to speak. However, the pain remains. I have no control over whether anybody reads this or over who does. If you are a victim then I am sorry if you can identify with this because it means that you to were hurt and still hurt and that is I guess what the abusers, the predators need to realize is that when they beat a child, when they ridicule, shame, embarrass, degrade a child, a human being, they are scarring that individual for life. Even when my dad is long gone from his mortal phase I will no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I hate myself for it, feel shame and embarrassment for it, I will still hurt. I can still feel the punches, the kicks to the ribs and stomach. I can still feel the sadness and fear of hearing and seeing him beat my mother and hear her shrieks and even though a small child I understood, that there was no way I could get away from this, and that when he finished with her he would have a reason to beat me as well. Sitting there and hearing my mom cry and plead and shriek in pain and hear him yell and call her down mixed with sounds of blows hitting there target and objects being broken in the scuffle was worse then the beating I knew was coming my way in the near future. So today that carries on. I can not stand to see someone victimized, yet I have no problem inflicting pain and hurt on myself. 
After 5 years we move back to Canada. The beatings are daily to me my mom and brother. Bleeding noses, cracked jaws I live in fear. My dad goes to work one night and my mom wakes me up in the night saying come on we have to go. I'm confused and scared there are police in my house just in case my dad comes home early when we're leaving. We go to the police station. They ask me to take my clothes off so they can take pictures of the bruises all over my 5 year old body for court purposes. We go and live in a house for battered woman and their kids. Eventually my mom gets a place and goes back to university to become a teacher. My mom raises us a single mom until I'm 11 then she marries my step.dad. He's a good man. I also started drinking at 11. Then the weed came at 12. At 14 years old I try heroin And crack cocaine. I'm kicked out of 4 schools during high school years. I'm in and out of youth correctional centre's. At 13 I lost my virginity. My best friend asks me if I'll tag team his girlfriend with him because they have a deal she'll do it for him with 2 girls. So I'm sitting there on the day were going to do this. I'm nervous as bell. They start making out and take off their clothes. I sit there to shy to move. His girlfriend, that is all I can keep thinking, this is his girlfriend, anyways she comes over to me starts going down my pants and touching me, and I can remember just being like oh God that feels to good, ha ha, and she has this sly, coy grin on her face, she knew what she was doing to me, and she liked it, she could see the pleasure in my face, I am sure, she had the power for that moment. She pulls my pants down and takes me in her mouth, her lips and mouth where no mouth had been before that time. To this to I can remember her looking at me out of her eyes up at me and giggling asking me if I liked that, or rather telling me that I did, of course this was rhetorical the question she asked, but I thought it was so hot, her looking up at me, making eye contact, saying the odd sly, flirty thing as she would take a breath, and once again, she knew it, and she liked it and for some reason that made it all the more hot to me. These first experiences with this as I look back have shaped my views, and likes on this whole subject and activity, though what I imagine most would say was unorthodox way to loose my virginity, overall in a way it was quite healthy, she was older, knew a little more then I, and there was no shame, or inhibitions once things got started, and nothing was off the table, within reason of course, just that this was my best friends girlfriend, so I had what I think were perfectly natural questions, yet I could not ask them, that would have looked hurting and at that age one's rep and social standing is so important. But I wondered things like should I kiss her, would I do that, was that to personal, kissing, should it just be straight up intercourse, but once we started I could see, nothing was off the table, there was trust and respect and that is I guess why they asked me if I would do it. Once things got over a certain hump, it was on me and my friend took turns ******* her in all manner of positions that we knew at that age for about 30 minutes or so until we all orgasmed. I had a couple girlfriends  after that foray into sexuality, but it seemed my thing was and still is to just have a few friends with benefits. At 17 I ended up on the streets. I was hooked on heroin, I physically needed it and I was smoking crack everyday all day. I slept under a bridge with my girlfriend. After a year and a half her parents came and found us one morning and offered to take us with them. 125 pounds, physically addicted to Heroin and addicted to Crack as well, our heads we would come to learn, infested with lice, we went. I got on Methadone and got my first job ever. I worked my way up to manager in a few months. I was doing good. I was still using drugs but I became a functional addict. After 3 years of renting a basement suite from my girlfriends parents her and I broke up. I moved back to where I had left from 3 and half years ago, she followed as well and we were back together again. A few months back and her and I were back on the streets in full blown active addiction, and addiction being how it is we picked up right where we left off. In no time things were worse then when we had first hit the streets as teenagers. Eventually we parted ways again. So there I was alone, and that became my new norm and what I came to prefer and do to this day.  I stole from stores all day to support my habit and sold crack on the streets in one of the most crime infested areas in North America. I lived and hustled to survive on streets where you have an easier time finding crack and heroin then you do finding a decent place to buy food from. Streets where people eek out a miserable existence but it is all they know, and most of all there is no where left for us to go those of us who end up down there. It is a place where the cars drive through as fast as they can and try to avoid seeing the blight, urban decay at its worst, a modern form of dickinson era London. Abject poverty, slum lords, pimps, drug dealers. Used needles and condoms litter the streets and alleyways. Thousands of addicts crowd a few square blocks, clinics and free needle exchanges dot the landscape, a desperate attempt to try and stem the tide of what met the technical and medical definition of an epidemic, only I am not speaking of the flu I am talking about AIDS. Those who have only Hep C are looked at as fortunate down there. At leas with Hep C there is a chance to be cured and there is a never ending supply of pharmaceutical companies lining up to offer free Hep C treatment for those who meet the criteria for whatever study or trials they are researching in the hopes of finding a new and improved way to treat those with Hep C. Ironically there are different strains of Hep C and of course the most common strain is the hardest to cure. I walked, hustled and slept on these streets along with the rest of societies castaways, the forgotten, the ones who somehow slipped through the cracks. Those of us who end up down here have nowhere left to go. This is not a place you go to, NO, this is a place you end up in, most will never leave these few square blocks ever again until they die. Me, for some reason I had a moment of clarity, I was beaten, tired, hopeless and sick physically and mentally. I just couldn't take it anymore and thanks to the power that be, somehow I found my way and I went to detox and treatment. I spent a full year residing in a residential drug and alcohol treatment center.  I got clean. I stayed clean for 5 years, I worked 4 years as a support worker in a treatment centre and in a homeless shelter. One day I made a bad choice and got some heroin and crack. I lost everything eventually. So now I give up. I tried to commit suicide a few times and I was cutting myself again. I ended up certified under the mental health act 3 times in 2010-2011. I spent those times in a psychiatric ward where they diagnosed me with borderline personality disorder, psychosis, and depression. I got out the hospital and now I'm in treatment for the second time in my life. When I first wrote this I had a little over 11 months clean. Today as I edited and added some thoughts, and realizations I have come to I reached 21 months clean a few days ago. However, I'm still on 4 medications. I take Methadone, Risperdone, Citalopram, and Clonazapam everyday. I'm still struggling but I'm trying. I am back in my own place which I have been in since August. It's been a wonderful gift to be back in my own place, however it has been challenging to say the least. In these few months I have had a slew of ups and downs. Overall I am still moving forwards, but in some ways I have backslid, this is mostly in regards to my mental health. Today this is my hardest challenge and biggest barrier to getting back to being what I consider a productive member of society. Sure I am clean from drugs, but I have learned that the drugs they but just a symptom of much greater things in my life. The drugs where just what was most visible and what brought me to my knees, the streets, jails, and various institutions. When I began my journey of recovery I truly believed that if I could just get clean that I would be OK. Not in a naive, unrealistic way where I thought life would be perfect, NO. But it was at the forefront of my mind, and as I mentioned it was the most visible form of unmanageability and cause of strife and the root of me living the high risk lifestyle I lived for so many years. Today though, I have come to realize that there is so much more to my challenges and issues. I by no means have the answer of the why and the how even today. It is almost one of the chicken and the egg type of conundrums that I face. Which came first? Is the mental health issues because of the drug abuse or did I abuse illegal substances as a way to cope with my life. I tend to lean towards the belief that I had the issues I have and I turned to drugs as a way to cope in lieu of having healthy and effective coping skills. I will never get over my past, and who knows perhaps I am not meant to. I do hope though, that one day it will not define me, that it will not plague and hurt me. I don't know if I could go back if I would change things. Certainly I have done many things which I feel remorse and regret over. However, my live being how it has been has made me who I am today, the bad and the good. I just pray and I try my best from day to day to try and flip the script so to speak and hopefully one day I will be able to look in the mirror, lay my head on my pillow knowing that the good out weighs the bad. That is what I pray, hands clasped, eyes looking up to the heavens. 
libra604 libra604 26-30, M 4 Responses Jan 28, 2012

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The best part of your story which i like is "I just pray and I try my best from day to day to try and flip the script so to speak and hopefully one day I will be able to look in the mirror, lay my head on my pillow knowing that the good out weighs the bad. That is what I pray, hands clasped, eyes looking up to the heavens. "
I just wish your prayer is heard and you have a beautiful life!!

I know it is hard, and it breaks my heart to hear your story.. but, you have tried, so much, and that is what God wants, for us to try to do good and become better...
You are amazing, such an inspiration for me...!
Pj

:-) Thank you for that. I can't help but feel honoured when you say that (" You are amazing, such an inspiration for me...!") Thank you for taking the time first of all to read one of my life experience stories. And secondly, thank you for taking the time and the effort to leave such a kind, thoughtful and sincere comment. It is interesting how things work out sometimes, for you inspired me to back and edit that story. I added quite a lot of stuff, mostly thoughts, and realizations I came to right at that moment, just now as I wrote and thought of the comment you left. I worded somethings a little different and decided to not go so in to detail of specific physical beatings I suffered because I do not write for shock value and I do not want to traumatize anybody and I have had a few comments where I could tell what I wrote was a little to graphic, which was OK at the time. I needed to get it out. But we grow and learn as people everyday and I am in a little different space I guess tonight then I was when I first wrote this. Of course I still wrote with brutal honesty of my experience and so of course there are some not nice parts, it is what it is and that is the way things happened. Anyways, once again, thanks for reaching out and leaving the sincere comment you left. Take Care.
Sincerely libra604

How are you doing now?
tell me how it is right now? Right this very moment?

Hi, how am I right now?? hmm, well I cant really say to much on here since everybody can see it. But I will say that I have been clean from the hard drugs for almost 2 years now. I can't remember at this moment, I don't know if the story above refers to this or not but I spent 18 months in a residential treatment center, I have since moved out a few months ago now and so am back in my own place so there are the challenges that go with that after having spent the amount of time I have in an institution and my recent stay in the treatment center is not the first of many institutions I have had to be in at one point or another through my life, so there are challenges when you have been in various institutions throughout life and then go back to being on your own. Luckily I do have a pretty good support system and even though I am not in the treatment center living there I still have lots of professionals I see in the community so I am not just like done now that I am out of treatment. That is probably one of the hardest things I have had to learn and it still bothers me and I feel a lot of shame and embarrassment about it, mental health and addiction issues they are for the rest of my life. I will always be an addict just right now and hopefully for the foreseeable future I will not be in active addiction and as for the mental health stuff I am on meds and see psychiatrists and community mental health workers and I am pretty stable in that area at this moment as well. So overall I am doing well, but you just never know with this kind of thing, for me I have to take it a day at a time. Anything more than that and it gets overwhelming and I usually end up getting discouraged. Anyways, hope that answers your question. When I first answered I wrote a few things only and then I thought, no, you have taken the time to read one of my stories and took the time and effort to write the nice comment you did and to ask how I am doing now. So I wrote a bit more, hope it wasn't to much though, ha ha. Take care.
Sincerely libra604

Wow, what a terrible story. At least you're staying clean. Keep it up.

Hi, how are you? I hope your well and all is peaceful and pleasant in your life, at least for the most part. Ha ha, who's life is peaceful and pleasant all the time? Right :-)
I just wanted to write you to first and foremost thank you for taking the time to read one of my personal life experience stories. And not only that but you took the time and the effort to post a kind and genuine comment, so thank you for that. To this day I am always surprised when a person such as yourself not only takes the time to read one of my stories but then also leaves a kind and thoughtful comment. Upon reading your comment I came and took a look at your profile and based on that and of course the comment you wrote you just seemed like a really lovely person. I like that you seem to have this kind of... I don't know, almost an alternative edge to you, and a free spirit, but yet you are also kind, sweet, and most of all seem to be GENUINE. I like that most of all. So yeah, as of now, you rate high in my books. HA ha. Anyways, when I get a comment on a story I always try and reply, some slip through the cracks, but for the most part I am pretty good at replying. But every now and then I get a comment, like yours, from a person like you that I just feel compelled to write a personal and private message in response.
I don't want to keep you to long, so I will end it here, however I would like to say its been a pleasure to meet you so to speak. If you ever want to talk, or perhaps just want to vent, be heard, or even when and if you get to know me better need a shoulder, I am here, No Judgments. I always accept people for who they are, and where they are at, this of course extends to you. I hope to hear back from you sometime, if you want and have the time. I am on here for the most part a few times a day so I am good at getting back to my friends on here in a prompt manner. If you just wanted to leave the comment you left and leave it at that, that's kool to of course. Thanks again for your comment. Whether I hear back from you or not, I truly wish you all the best!
Please take care.
Sincerely libra604

Hop you are doing better now. Drugs have ruined 2 of my family members' life. hope you can be free from drugs!

Hi :-) Thanks for the comment. Sincere apologies for taking so long to reply and thank you if I have not already done so in a PM. I just noticed I had not thanked you when I received another comment, so thanks for taking the time and effort to write such a kind and thoughtful comment. I am truly sorry that active addiction has touched your life the way it has. Hopefully one day they to can break the chains of addiction and try their best to recover. Please take care.
Sincerely libra604