My mother was 16 when she had me. Put me into foster care.
The people who raised me, my parents if you will, have always been kind if not too overly-religious, and I did nothing but resent them growing up.
I'm a pathological white-liar.
One of my best, childhood friends co-signed for me on a loan to get a motorcycle. I got hit by an illegal immigrant without a license, registered car or (worst of all) insurance -- they didn't even speak English. Same week, I got evicted and my dog (who saved my life -- will tell later) who I had for four years ran away. The bike was fucked up and I ended up missing payments on it so it was repo'd and my best friend got pissed at me.
When I was 20 I tried to commit suicide and ended up comatose for 13 days and hospitalized for a whole month. After this I had to go to a psychiatric ward for another month and had to go to court to get out. I was court-ordered to be on prescription pills to balance my "moods." BTW, my dog saved my life right here. I fucking loved that dog more than anything. Also, because of what I did to myself, I lost a good portion of my memory and forgot a lot of my childhood. To this day, things still slowly come back to me.
My girlfriend of five years becomes addicted to coke, becomes anorexic and we break up and she sleeps with most of my friends. Most of my friends, anyways, are smug, condescending fucks who all badmouth me when I'm not around, or act like hard asses when we're in the company of others so you never know who they really are.
My older sister, bless her heart, had a child with a man who married her, cheated on her, had two other kids with two other women -- and now she's remarried to a guy who doesn't work and sometimes drinks and fights with her (when he doesn't, he's a really nice guy and granted, we all have our vices). I feel bad for her. Oh, and they had another kid. Oh, and they're poor and I'm poor and currently I live in their basement.
I ended up living with a drug addict control-freak and a lazy, alcoholic pothead. I got a DUI for marijuana and got sentenced to 16 days in jail. I lost my job due to this and got my license taken away. After a year of probation (which cost $3,500) and multiple court hearings, I got my license back. The week of, I also paid off my car, that I'd been paying on since I was 18. I got rear-ended by a drunk driver and it was totaled. I was an idiot and didn't sue him (I did collect on the car -- I bought another one promptly and it ended up suffering severe engine damage a few months later and I sold it for parts for $800).
I sold everything I owned and moved to San Francisco. Here, I got financially fucked by my room mate and I couldn't exactly leave, I'd be homeless (again, like when I was kicked out and had to sleep underneath baseball field bleachers for two months before my friend's mom put me up -- bless her heart). Before I moved, see, she told me rent was $300 a month. When I get there, she demands $750 a month -- and this was after I sold everything, took a train and left everything I knew to come out there and basically fuck myself. So I worked under the table for a lying asshole who robbed me on my paychecks and said "Prove it" when I told him I know I worked more than that. While I was living here in San Francisco, our house got robbed. The only things of value that I owned (my iPod, two cameras, my computer, my bicycle and a box containing old photos of my dog, my friends, my birth parents, my childhood, etc -- this box contained the only fragments of my past self that I had).
I was standing in the back yard, smoking a cigarette, when I felt really sick to my stomach. Next thing I know, I wake up in bed and my front teeth are smashed out. I guess I passed out, hit my head and had a seizure. Everyone thought I was drunk. I gave myself a really bad concussion and to this day things seem "off." Also, this is about the 30th time I've passed out from nothing since I turned 18. I don't remember if it ever happened before that.
I moved from San Francisco to Oakland and lived with a girl. We helped each other out and I worked for a non-profit grassroots organization and it paid the bills. The girl and I seemed really good together and slowly I got back on my feet financially. Meanwhile, I am being sued by three different companies for credit cards I charged off when I was barely 18, and a college that I dropped out of. My childhood friend paid off my motorcycle that didn't really get repo'd, it just got stolen -- so it fucked his credit up. I still owe him $2,000 and to this day he won't talk to me. Anyways, back to Oakland. Her brother moves in with us and I am living off the lease. He moves out and one day when I come home from work, so has she. With everything I owned. The landlord can't find her, is upset I was living there, and I file a police report but nothing can be done. I hope she is enjoying the $800 she took from me and all my belongings.
So there I was in Oakland again, penniless, homeless, friendless, jobless, lost -- I hitch hiked to Fresno, where I laid sod for five hours to get $70 and bought an Amtrak ticket back home.
Here I am now. The worst part is -- I'm still penniless, friendless and lost -- on the verge of homelessness and I just found a low-paying labor job. I commute by bus 4 hours a day and wake up at 4:30 AM every day. I really have no talents, no hobbies, and the only thing that interests me is soccer but I feel I'm past it to really enjoy it or catch up. I'm also battling alcoholism and trying to quit smoking, which is coming along very slowly.
Basically, life sucks. Don't believe me? It does. Life sucks for everyone. I can't wait to die, but I think now I'd rather just keep working, keeping my mind off things, and hopefully maybe I'll just be in a horrible car accident one day and my family can cash in on my life insurance -- granted of course that my life at that point sucks a little less so I might be fortunate enough to have insurance of some sort so my family can win back the money they spent on having to put up with me for so long.
The worst part is, I hate myself. I'm the stupidest piece of shit alive. All of my problems are my own fault, and I hate myself for fucking up this bad. Sure, I could have had better luck a lot of the time, but it just means I'd never had to have learned anything the hard way. I hate life so badly because no matter what I am doing (usually on my long walks to and from work and the bus stops), I am thinking about how badly I wish I could start over and set things right, even if just a little bit. And I can't. And since I can't, well, life fucking sucks. It could be worse, and if it was, I'd surely kill myself because... life sucks.