It all started when I was a little boy. My mother raised me by herself. I don't know who my father is, I don't even know his name. My mother should of had an abortion because she couldn't even provide for us. We lived with family for a while, but mostly lived in a car. Moved to five states because she couldn't find a job. When I was 15 I had to sleep behind a dumpter in an apartment complex in Dallas. My mother lied on a reseme to get a job as an apartment manager, which she did for 16 years, averaging two different jobs a year. Which meant we moved at least twice a year between those five states. I could never keep friends. My mother "home schooled" me sense we moved so much. But she never taught me a f-ing thing. I wouldn't even know how to spell if I hadn't started using the library computers to chat.
When I turned 18 we had been living in a car with 3 big dogs for two years. She wasn't working of course, but always had some "get rich quick" thing she would try..which never worked. She made me get a job to support us. I got a job as a painter for $10 an hour. Every check I got went for food, gas, and dog food. I had to lie to everyone at work about my life. I couldn't tell anyone the truth. It was too embarressing.
Sense we lived in a car, I couldn't take showers. I had to wash off in public bathrooms. Brush my teeth in public bathrooms. No social life. Sleeping in a wall*mart parking lot in a f-ing car with three dogs in the back seat and my stupid, worthless f-ing b**ch loser of a mother in the seat next to me.
I busted my ass at work and got raise after raise until 3 years later I was making $18 an hour and still going nowhere in my life. Fighting with my mother was a daily thing. I hate that b**ch just as much today as I did the day she kicked me out of the car and screamed at me to get the f*ck out of her car and get the fu*k out of her life.
Since that day I have been doing much better and got myself into a pretty nice one bedroom house. I still bust my ass at work and am now the lead painter of a great company. Although I know if I had been given the chance (steady home, graduate high school, college ect.) I could really be enjoying my life. I could be something so much more. I'm just a f-ing painter with a past I can't tell anyone. I suffer from depression horribly. I have no family, they are all dead to me. I have no one that cares about me. All I have is my job. That's f-ing it. My life sucks. I spent so many years sleeping in a f-ing car hungry and cold. All my teenage years, wasted. No friends. I wish I was dead. I'm only 24 now and feel my life is at its end. | |
Never look back at your past and feel sorry again as that is not caused by your-self and is not current any more.
Boring? Find a hobbby. Lonely? Get a cat and/or Find a wife. No gf b4? pay to loss your virginity and find a wife in a poorer country in your coming annual leave. How? Google it; russian, mexico, japanese etc
Your life does not end for a bad past, but for a bad choice. It seems that you dont have any bad choice for someone who works hard.
So what if you can share your past with anyone, there are things individuals cant share anyway. Your just have a bit more.
I was adopted. I actually met my birth parents when I became an adult. They are both a bit strange, and neither of them show much interest in me, which hurts, but I can't change them. There are no 'blood' relatives very interested in me either. That hurts too, sometimes. However, I have lots of friends that care about me. I concentrate my time and my love towards them. We can't pick our 'relatives' But we can pick who we want to share our lives with. Smile, stand up straight, try to appreciate the good things you have earned for yourself, and surround yourself with good people who truly care about you. Life is worth it if you work hard, keep a positive attitude, and look at the glass as half full.
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