LIFE SUCKS

Had to Get it Out

Well I feel very humbled after reading about the suicidal people and stuff, so I didn't feel the need to whine. But the voices are saying I'm weak, I don't have real problems, why don't I suck it up and get a job, so I decided to express myself to get support.

I'll start from the beginning.

I spent my childhood in Liberia (West Africa). My family is descended from freed slaves who were the elites (5% of the country controlled most of the land) and was exorbitantly wealthy. I went to private school, had a cook, a nurse, a houseboy. My grandfather was friends with the president. You get the picture. At that point there were only a few minor incidents. 1) My dad was an alcoholic. He was such a drunk that he once had to be carted home from a party in a wheelbarrow. When I was about 5 he came home and cut a switch and tried to beat my mom right in front of me. I jumped in the middle (I was rambunctious) and I was swept aside. My mom was crying and begging him not to hit her. I don't remember what happened after that. 2) When I was about 5 the cook tongue kissed me. That's all I remember from that. 3) When I was about 6, a man walked in on me naked. I cried and he laughed and said "you little rat." It's very minor but from a child's perspective it's shameful. In any case, my childhood was mostly like a paradise.

Then the Civil War broke out. We left everything behind, including some relatives. We thought it was just a skirmish. So we came to our American condo , about 10 of us (aunts, uncles...). My mom (who was a celebrity screenwriter, owner of a basketball team, and principal of my private school) got a job as an usher in a movie theater. It just gradually sunk in over the years that we were never going back. My grandfather was wealthy of course. But he spent every last penny providing for the family during the war. So we were left with no inheritance. My father cheated on my mom and started a second family. He was a dead beat dad who didn't pay child support. Therefore my mom had to support my sister and I on an usher's salary. But she worked hard to make sure life was pleasant.

In middle school, I had oral sex and was branded the school ho. I was bullied all day everyday. Black girls would threaten to beat me up. The boy who I did it to became the most popular guy in school and the ringleader of the bullying. It happened on the bus to and from school, in the cafeteria, in the hallways, in the locker room, during class, and even in the neighborhood. The boy even threatened to beat me up and he was about 6'2 and muscular (I was about 4'10). I internalized it, decided that if I became a good girl I would get respect and did everything to please society. I transferred schools, got straight A's, took advanced placement classes, started clubs, volunteered, did dance, etc. I stayed away from boys. Part of me felt it was never good enough, as I was still picked on a little. For example at the dance team sleepover, we were watching the competition tape and they were making fun of the worst dancer and a girl shouted "God she's worse that (TheSamantha)!" They were all snobs, rich, I was "ghetto", "lazy", etc. But it was decent as I had my eyes set on getting into a good college.

I got into Duke. It was a dream come true. Freshman year was a dream. I had my own room, the campus is beautiful, I was taking interesting classes, and maintaining my reputation. I got in with a group of catty, depressed girls who were always fighting and whining about boys. But I had fun for the most part. Then i got a boyfriend. I didn't want to sleep with him and I wanted us to get married. I was madly in love. But being a college boy he cheated on me. Girls would throw themselves at him right in front of me. I walked in on him laying on the bed with another girl. I was heartbroken. Being a lady, I befriended the girl as she said she didn't know he had a boyfriend and that she had no friends. So I introduced her to my friends. Boy were they fake. One of my friends and the girl became friends and made fun of me together. My friends were all like "guys are like that what do you expect? Get over it! Move on! God you're so pathetic!" I came to realization that no matter what I did in this life, people just wouldn't respect me. So I became depressed.

I took up smoking, I stopped going to class. I had to be put on medical leave twice. I took easy classes, not thinking about a career. I went home and drank and partied with my home town friends from high school.

One night I got drunk at a bar/bowling alley. I went outside to smoke and a guy introduced himself. We walked around to the parking lot and started fooling around. I let him turn me around and prop me against the car. Still not ready to lose my virginity for some reason, I asked him not to penetrate me, just finger me. He penetrated me anyway. My girlfriend found us and shouted out. He denied it and we split. She said "you were raped." I bought into the silly notion that it doesn't matter if you were drunk, wearing a short skirt, had done everything but, if you didn't consent you were raped. So I went to the hospital and that police station. I told the cops the entire story, I didn't embellish because I honestly thought it still constituted rape. A couple of weeks later, the detective called me and said they didn't have enough info on the guy. Then he ripped me a new one. He shouted that I made the whole rape up to save face in front of my friend. He kept shouting "well in the real world, that's what it looks like!" I was shocked. I decided that I'm not welcome in the Real World. So I dropped out of society.

I became a stripper. But part of me still wanting to succeed, so I crawled towards the finish line of graduation, earning an English degree that I haven't been able to use. In desperation a couple of years ago, I got a job as an administrative assistant for a nurse staffing agency. A Duke grad, working in some small choked up house doing clerical work for $14 an hour. I liked it though because it could have been worse. But I was bullied at work. My co-workers gossiped and my boss routinely humiliated me. I was depressed so I was under performing. For example, I left fruit in the fridge which spoiled and the boss bellowed in front of everyone "remind me never to go to your house." She fired me one day, then called me back the next day apologizing, saying I did just as well as everyone else, this wouldn't happen anymore and it would all be cleared up at a meeting. So I went back excited and at the meeting, the boss reamed me out. She went down the list of things I was doing wrong, in front of everyone. I kept going to work but got burned out and eventually stopped showing up.

At that time I fell in love again. I met an amazing guy on the internet. He was my first white boyfriend which made him seem interesting. He was attractive, artistic and had a deep soul. He was broke, so I moved him into my mom and I's house and helped him get on his feet and off of drugs. I greatly improved his life, moving him from a small town to the DC area where he got a job as a waiter. My uncle asked for his resume so he could work in an office but for some reason he didn't bother. I payed for him to go to a methadone clinic, about $300. My poor mom had a man living in her house! As the months rolled by he became distant, standoffish, and eventually very mean. I cried and begged to know what was wrong. I asked "am I too fat?" (I had gained 50 pounds as a result of antidepressants). "Am I annoying?" "Am I too clingy?" He finally blurted out "I have herpes." He said it was lying dormant in his system. He didn't stop to wonder if he had passed on to me, he just pushed me and the world away. So I left. I realized that doing it society's way had gotten me into trouble once again.

A little while after that, I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. I hear voices and see mental pictures of people picking on me and harassing me, controlling me, bossing me around, manipulating me, being nosy, for various reasons. I've been hospitalized four times. Once I went psychotic. I was at a strip party with my "manager" and we were expected to have sex the guys for money. I heard voices saying "you're ghetto", "you're in the slave underclass now", "the cops are gonna show up." I drank and smoked to get out of my head but it didn't work. I went to sleep in a bedroom room and eventually everyone left except a few people, a pimp and two other hos. I work up the next day (maybe a few days later?) and still was hearing voices. I asked the pimp to let me call home to let my mom know I was ok. He said ok. But he didn't budge. This happened three times. I started panicking and feeling like I had been kidnapped. So I ran out of the house. The voices increased. I felt like the whole world was laughing at me. I heard relatives in Liberia saying I was spoiled and didn't belong there, people in America saying I didn't belong here. I thought I was Jesus because everyone was mean to me and I just passively accepted it. Then I thought I was Satan because I was against the herd and was determined to get back at them. I went to the police station and they took me to the hospital. That's when I was diagnosed and put on proper meds.

These days my life is pretty ok. I'm 28 and unemployed, living with my mom and my grandmother. I avoid most people as I'm a misanthrope who holds society in contempt. I'm very promiscuous and have a main boyfriend/pimp. I want to go back to stripping and possibly prostitution but don't want to get arrested. I'm working on losing weight although I'm always tempted to drink. I really want to start living my life, on my terms this year. But we all know that life sucks so things could go belly up.