5th grade-
Okay all the demeaning and torture and beating with bat and belt hadn't done enough. I still haven't lost my mind. That's next year.
This year we had two teachers-the uptight older Mr. Mehlum and the easy going but strict Mr. Bekkedal, whose daughter was in my class. One day she wanted to see my math boo, which where brand new that year. She was playing around and I pulled it back and a page was torn out of it. She begged me not to tell her father but I did because it was the right thing to do. Had I taken the blame I would have went home and been beaten or killed or worse-pulled from school.
It was also about this time that a girl named Kathy has a crush on me. She liked me. I said what is a crush? What is this like shit? Yes, I began swearing in school even before it was cool. My mother was also pleased with the fact that we where poor and forced us to wear the cheapest worse looking clothes ever. I tried to fit in by rolling up the cuffs of pants legs. Some where pleased that I was trying to fit in. Others where not and where like what is he doing. One good thing about fifth grade is that we won the track meet that year.
6th grade-
I begin to lose my mind.
Dissociative Identity Disorder[formerly Multiple personality disorder] (DID) is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a condition in which a person displays multiple distinct identities or personalities (known as alter egos or alters), each with its own pattern of perceiving and interacting with the environment.
Teachers-Mr. Hepp/Mr. Daines. First fight with tormenter of the year-Jeremy. He punched me in the stomach for no apparent reason other than to humiliate me. He was sent to ALC[like detention, but not] Everyone thought he was a cool bad ass. To me he was my mother incarnate. Everyone's development-normal. Mine-6-7.
Okay, DID. I started to develop it this year and it would continue for the years to come. First I was James T. Kirk of the starship Enterprise, which was cloaked right outside the school in the softball field. My calculator was a communicator to the ship. I would do my daily captain's log by typing the stardate into my calculator.
Later on I was Dr. Sam Beckett who leaped back in time to save everyone but me, from me, Chad Heal. My calculator became a handlink to Ziggy and to my imaginary friend/observer/external personality Al. I was there to put right that once went wrong. I talked to Al as Sam, who leaped back and forth through 1992-3-4-5, to change history for the better, to make the world a better place.
Yeah, I was losing my mind dealing with all of the abuse at home and at school. Still cried for the silliest things when I would get into trouble for stuff I did. I didn't dare tell when my lunch tickets where stolen from my locker and the principal gave me a couple extra until he said he couldn't. I also used a black colored pencil for two months because I didn't dare ask for new pencils from Chernobyl and take the wrath and berating from her for using up and wasting money. The teachers would also let me do stuff like be late for assignments and help them out like writing the date on the chalk board, although I couldn't spell Tuesday.
Jeremy did piss off Mr. Hepp one time that he took him into the hall and slammed him up against the locker and yelled so loud that half the school heard him.
Sixth grade would also start the one-sided love affair with a girl-B. She was and still is beautiful. I began to like her for all the things that where not me. One of her friends, c, asked me if I liked anyone one day during recess. C went through a bunch of names of girls in out class, and when she said B's name I lied and said no.
Mr. Hepp would always look for the good in everyone. He always joked around but was strict to a point. I remember one day we had an exercise of who in your life had said that they love you. Love was a swear word in my family. When I asked Chernobyl one day she said it was for other people not us, and that we should appreciate what crap we had. Everyone had to raise their hands, to complete the exercise. First it was the everyday kids. Then the once a week, month and year. By now, everyone had their hand raised but me. Mr. Hepp asked me if anyone had said that ever. I lied and said once, because it was a concept foreign and evil to me.
No one had said that word to me, or about me. Later on Chernobyl would also say that we where poor, white trash and that no one would ever accept us. That phrase, that sentence would be my ultimate death sentence and would haunt my actions for years.
7th grade-Warning! The following chapter contains explicit acts of violence. Reader discretion is advised.
Teachers-Mrs. Trussoni, Mrs. Endicott, Mrs. J. Olson, none of which who helped me or would deal with my shit.
As sixth grade came and went, badger camp was disappointing, although it was the first time I had camped out. I felt myself like the television character of Jarod from the show 'The Pretender'. I was new to all these things. I was still losing my mind to keep others at bay. I was now in full blown, DID. I switched from Jim to Sam permanently.
Now the depression hit hard. Trying to deal with tormenters, Chernobyl, religion which I was more active in, but soon learned it was a popularity contest. Got nose bleeds more ofter due to stress. Parent-teacher conferences where always fun when Chernobyl would boldface lie and say everything was alright at home and shoved her beliefs on us and the school so I would be more anti-social. This would be the focal point of Jeremy and his hooligans for the next two years. One of his gang was a quick acquaintance, Shawn who betrayed me like leading a lamb to the wolves.
I no longer allowed myself to cry as well. I just bottled up my emotion. This would be the start. Z-minus four years to the Incident.
This would also be the year of my last and most vicious beating yet. I did something to enrage Chernobyl, I think it had something to do with doing dishes or something. She took out the Belt, ordered me to take down my pants and underwear as she gave me three lashes at first. She asked me if I would ever do it again and I accidentally said yes. So she gave me two more lashes in and rage infested in anger fueled by evil and hatred. How no one saw or commented on why I had severe bruising to the legs and back in the gym locker room, I never know.
By this time my dad had got a job at the school doing summer maintenance. Later he went up to a custodial position that Chernobyl threatened to sue if he didn't get. Even the middle school principal Mr. McGrath was afraid of her. This was good because no more being poor.
8th grade-
The others progressed as I regressed. My grades where great because I was held back from the advanced classes a year. Didn't do much but more of the same. Bullied by Jeremy and company. Became angry all the time, even kicked a locker which the superintendent saw and berated me further.
Playing football with my brothers, I was tackled hard and sprained my wrist, elbow, pinched a nerve in my elbow and tore something in my shoulder. This time, no doctor. Chernobyl berated me for getting hurt. I couldn't use my right arm for two weeks and spent the next five months rehabilitating it myself.
Friday, March 12, 2010
2nd thru fourth grades-
2ND GRADE-
It was not any better than the last, and I had he first in a long line of bullies-David. He just push me and make me cry as I did often about the littlest things. He was good at it and gave my life even more negativity. It began in the fall with Mrs. Hubbard as my teacher. I love fall weather and still do to this day. But it also meant that now I had no safe haven. We where asked the first week or two what we did that summer. Others would talks about how their families went on vacations and camped out and had fun things happen. I didn't have that. When I was asked I would say, “Nothing.”
I was still not human because I was not one. I was something else. That is why I had anger and took it out on my brothers. That led to getting into trouble with Chernobyl. Around this time I had two traumas. First my younger brother and I where playing in the dining room of the house we rented on Center street. Apparently we where too loud, so my dad, who was in the adjacent living room came in and forced me, not Michael out and took the plastic baseball bat and swung at me. He tried to hit my backside but missed and blew out my right knee for the first time. I don't remember the next day but I didn't go to school because I couldn't walk.
Maybe it was because of my parents blood feud. You see they split up for awhile before I was in school in Viroqua. Chernobyl had left my dad because he is an alcoholic and lost his job in Readstown working for the town maintenance. I remember the day clearly. She packed up all of our clothes and her dishes. But didn't take the dog or cats, our toys, or anything else but her Elvis records. She pulled my older brother out of school, who was in second grade. He was crying and she was hurrying him up so we could make a quick escape. She took the back roads to My aunt and uncles place outside of Viroqua.
We live DuWayne and Carolyn and their three kids, Laura, Paul and Amy. We where there for four months if I remember. I started pre-school at this time and was afraid to get on the bus. Amy and my older brother had to drag me on. I vaguely remember any of pre-school with Mrs. Krambs. I once was playing next to and electrical outlet and stuck a key into a electrical socket and was electrocuted. What would a normal mother do. Feel bad for her offspring and comfort them? We Chernobyl ripped into me for being dumb and berated me and left me there on the floor to cry as my aunt looked on in horror. My cousin Amy also tried to keep Chernobyl at bay as well, but she was not going to be stopped from exacting revenge on her children for her supposed past.
One good thing is that others saw how she treated her children or us 'brats'. Whatever her past is or was I didn't give her the right to be the abuser. The other thing is that she was into taking over-the-counter and the prescription painkillers. She started on a script called Chlorinil-which she pronounced Chlorininal. She once told me that she took as many as 20-24 Tylenol and ibuprofen a day until she went on the prescriptions. I remember how many she took because my little brother and I used to play with the empty bottles when she couldn't get her scripts.
In second grade I also had my first bad ear infection. My mother made it out to be a burden to take us to the doctor and made damn sure we had to wait and we would go to the smallest clinic in the county-Kickapoo Valley Medical clinic. I lost part of my hearing in my right ear because of the wait.
That is where her dealer-Dr. Devitt was. She always went to him so she could get checked out for her pain from arthritis. Being a former nursing assistant she knew how and what they did, but she continued to do them anyway. At the age of 30-35 she had advanced arteriosclerosis arthritis from popping 20 pills or more a day for at least ten years. That is what destroyed your goddamn joints and immune system because you had to have your 'pain pills!' When she was on them she was good but when she ran out, usually before the script was up she was a pain.
She didn't take me to the doctor this time though. It was usually a half day thing, but my dad took me and we where in and out in a hour. At least being down with an ear infection allowed me to see my grandparents following the checkup. It was nice. I helped them move from the apartment they had in the low income housing to another one in the same building. I was nice to hang out with them and do fun things with my family. My grandfather George would always give us a quarter when we visited. This time he gave me a whole dollar. When I visited his grave not too long ago I left a quarter to him for the pleasant memories.
Trying to adjust to school was a task proving to be difficult. My dad was still unemployed and it didn't help with the worst recession we had at the time. He spent his time assembling jigsaw puzzles and watching television.
He was injured working on his truck at a farm near Readstown where he used to farmhand at. A jack stand fell over trapping him underneath. My mother verbally abused him wasting money for the ambulance ride to Vernon Memorial and verbally abused Bud, the farmhand's son who was helping him, and everyone else involved.
My dad was transferred to La Crosse's Gundersen-Luthuren hospital. This was the first non-school related trip there. My mother's brother drove us there. My dad broke his right arm, separated his left shoulder and broke two ribs.
I went to the doctor again this year when I accidentally slammed my thumb in a car door when closing it. Chernobyl was furious and let me sit in pain as she did the laundry. Eventually I went to Hirsch clinic and got my first x-ray. It was negative but I lost my first fingernail. I also did the dishes for the first time at age seven because the soapy water would help the wound. I also broke my nose and had a bad nosebleed from a line drive softball by my older brother. It was an accident, but Chernobyl didn't have any simpathy for it.
Rules number 2-There is no such things as accidents, they are all mistakes.
So no job yet again following the four months of recovery. We eventually moved from that house on Center street to the house my mother inherited from her late aunt June. This would be known as the domain of evil as it was the place I went after school. It was no house nor home but simply the place I kept my stuff for the next eleven years.
How can a home or house be so bad. Keep reading.
3rd grade-
I still didn't have any social skill. Just like this sentence I had no idea how to be. I learned personal space from my desk mate, as we had double seated desks that shared once table top. In would go into his stuff without permission, only to find out that this was wrong, unbeknownst to me. All of the class was together for the first time as the students from Liberty pole grades 1-2 came to the main school now. So we have more new student show I had no idea how to talk to.
At this time my mother became a fully devoted member of the Jehovah's witness's and as usual she bitched about everything about it. I really think it was to push us kids further in not being accepted by others because no one like someone who is different.
Maybe that's why some kids from the fourth grade trampled me down one afternoon and blew my knee out for the second time. My cousin Jessica and next door neighbor had to carry me into school and to my class.
4th grade-
Everyone else's emotional and mental well being-on par. Mine-far behind.
Fourth grade started up and went downhill from there. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Welch was fine but this year I had a male teacher-Mr. Weltzin. He didn't last long because a student filed a sexual harassment claim, which I think was false, but nevertheless he was fired. Then began the long line of six substitute teachers, among them Mrs. Hoffland, Mrs. Getter and Mrs. King.
The class was in chaos. One morning I went up the stair to the class on the third floor and the door was locked. I saw kids in there so I knocked and asked to come in and they said no. The where flashing the lights on and off and using the overhead projector as a disco ball. They didn't get into trouble for it either. My tormenter for this year was Eric. He was a wise ass little shit who always made me look bad and him good. He once took my moon boots-winter snow boots and disposed of them in the girls bathroom. Try to explain why I was wearing my school shoes home to Chernobyl. I went home crying and was forced back by Chernobyl, because the school was half a block from the house. They found them, sprayed with hairspray, in the toilet. Eric had stated that he would take them and others heard him. But I got in trouble with the school counselor Mr. Fischel and Chernobyl for lying. I also got the belt when I went home.
The belt- 'which if us brats didn't behave we would get a whipping. Spare the rod spoil the child.'
It was a 1 ¾ inch by 60 inch by ¼ inch thick real leather belt my dad used as intended until he got a new one. It hung by the stairway as a reminder for us. She would relish if we didn't behave we would get the ¼ inch thick belt. My brothers where not whipped as much as I. They also where treated better than me. I shared a bed with my little brother until we got bunks. My older brother had a dresser all to himself and my little brother and I shared one until Chernobyl put and end to that. We then got a big heavy table which I improvised a shelf on the bottom. This is where I had my clothes along with an old display clothes hanger. Whenever my brothers got hurt they went to the hospital and received proper care. When I did, I got shit on. Do you see a pattern forming here?
I was in the fourth grade but played like I was in kindergarten because I didn't have a normal life like everyone else.
It was not any better than the last, and I had he first in a long line of bullies-David. He just push me and make me cry as I did often about the littlest things. He was good at it and gave my life even more negativity. It began in the fall with Mrs. Hubbard as my teacher. I love fall weather and still do to this day. But it also meant that now I had no safe haven. We where asked the first week or two what we did that summer. Others would talks about how their families went on vacations and camped out and had fun things happen. I didn't have that. When I was asked I would say, “Nothing.”
I was still not human because I was not one. I was something else. That is why I had anger and took it out on my brothers. That led to getting into trouble with Chernobyl. Around this time I had two traumas. First my younger brother and I where playing in the dining room of the house we rented on Center street. Apparently we where too loud, so my dad, who was in the adjacent living room came in and forced me, not Michael out and took the plastic baseball bat and swung at me. He tried to hit my backside but missed and blew out my right knee for the first time. I don't remember the next day but I didn't go to school because I couldn't walk.
Maybe it was because of my parents blood feud. You see they split up for awhile before I was in school in Viroqua. Chernobyl had left my dad because he is an alcoholic and lost his job in Readstown working for the town maintenance. I remember the day clearly. She packed up all of our clothes and her dishes. But didn't take the dog or cats, our toys, or anything else but her Elvis records. She pulled my older brother out of school, who was in second grade. He was crying and she was hurrying him up so we could make a quick escape. She took the back roads to My aunt and uncles place outside of Viroqua.
We live DuWayne and Carolyn and their three kids, Laura, Paul and Amy. We where there for four months if I remember. I started pre-school at this time and was afraid to get on the bus. Amy and my older brother had to drag me on. I vaguely remember any of pre-school with Mrs. Krambs. I once was playing next to and electrical outlet and stuck a key into a electrical socket and was electrocuted. What would a normal mother do. Feel bad for her offspring and comfort them? We Chernobyl ripped into me for being dumb and berated me and left me there on the floor to cry as my aunt looked on in horror. My cousin Amy also tried to keep Chernobyl at bay as well, but she was not going to be stopped from exacting revenge on her children for her supposed past.
One good thing is that others saw how she treated her children or us 'brats'. Whatever her past is or was I didn't give her the right to be the abuser. The other thing is that she was into taking over-the-counter and the prescription painkillers. She started on a script called Chlorinil-which she pronounced Chlorininal. She once told me that she took as many as 20-24 Tylenol and ibuprofen a day until she went on the prescriptions. I remember how many she took because my little brother and I used to play with the empty bottles when she couldn't get her scripts.
In second grade I also had my first bad ear infection. My mother made it out to be a burden to take us to the doctor and made damn sure we had to wait and we would go to the smallest clinic in the county-Kickapoo Valley Medical clinic. I lost part of my hearing in my right ear because of the wait.
That is where her dealer-Dr. Devitt was. She always went to him so she could get checked out for her pain from arthritis. Being a former nursing assistant she knew how and what they did, but she continued to do them anyway. At the age of 30-35 she had advanced arteriosclerosis arthritis from popping 20 pills or more a day for at least ten years. That is what destroyed your goddamn joints and immune system because you had to have your 'pain pills!' When she was on them she was good but when she ran out, usually before the script was up she was a pain.
She didn't take me to the doctor this time though. It was usually a half day thing, but my dad took me and we where in and out in a hour. At least being down with an ear infection allowed me to see my grandparents following the checkup. It was nice. I helped them move from the apartment they had in the low income housing to another one in the same building. I was nice to hang out with them and do fun things with my family. My grandfather George would always give us a quarter when we visited. This time he gave me a whole dollar. When I visited his grave not too long ago I left a quarter to him for the pleasant memories.
Trying to adjust to school was a task proving to be difficult. My dad was still unemployed and it didn't help with the worst recession we had at the time. He spent his time assembling jigsaw puzzles and watching television.
He was injured working on his truck at a farm near Readstown where he used to farmhand at. A jack stand fell over trapping him underneath. My mother verbally abused him wasting money for the ambulance ride to Vernon Memorial and verbally abused Bud, the farmhand's son who was helping him, and everyone else involved.
My dad was transferred to La Crosse's Gundersen-Luthuren hospital. This was the first non-school related trip there. My mother's brother drove us there. My dad broke his right arm, separated his left shoulder and broke two ribs.
I went to the doctor again this year when I accidentally slammed my thumb in a car door when closing it. Chernobyl was furious and let me sit in pain as she did the laundry. Eventually I went to Hirsch clinic and got my first x-ray. It was negative but I lost my first fingernail. I also did the dishes for the first time at age seven because the soapy water would help the wound. I also broke my nose and had a bad nosebleed from a line drive softball by my older brother. It was an accident, but Chernobyl didn't have any simpathy for it.
Rules number 2-There is no such things as accidents, they are all mistakes.
So no job yet again following the four months of recovery. We eventually moved from that house on Center street to the house my mother inherited from her late aunt June. This would be known as the domain of evil as it was the place I went after school. It was no house nor home but simply the place I kept my stuff for the next eleven years.
How can a home or house be so bad. Keep reading.
3rd grade-
I still didn't have any social skill. Just like this sentence I had no idea how to be. I learned personal space from my desk mate, as we had double seated desks that shared once table top. In would go into his stuff without permission, only to find out that this was wrong, unbeknownst to me. All of the class was together for the first time as the students from Liberty pole grades 1-2 came to the main school now. So we have more new student show I had no idea how to talk to.
At this time my mother became a fully devoted member of the Jehovah's witness's and as usual she bitched about everything about it. I really think it was to push us kids further in not being accepted by others because no one like someone who is different.
Maybe that's why some kids from the fourth grade trampled me down one afternoon and blew my knee out for the second time. My cousin Jessica and next door neighbor had to carry me into school and to my class.
4th grade-
Everyone else's emotional and mental well being-on par. Mine-far behind.
Fourth grade started up and went downhill from there. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Welch was fine but this year I had a male teacher-Mr. Weltzin. He didn't last long because a student filed a sexual harassment claim, which I think was false, but nevertheless he was fired. Then began the long line of six substitute teachers, among them Mrs. Hoffland, Mrs. Getter and Mrs. King.
The class was in chaos. One morning I went up the stair to the class on the third floor and the door was locked. I saw kids in there so I knocked and asked to come in and they said no. The where flashing the lights on and off and using the overhead projector as a disco ball. They didn't get into trouble for it either. My tormenter for this year was Eric. He was a wise ass little shit who always made me look bad and him good. He once took my moon boots-winter snow boots and disposed of them in the girls bathroom. Try to explain why I was wearing my school shoes home to Chernobyl. I went home crying and was forced back by Chernobyl, because the school was half a block from the house. They found them, sprayed with hairspray, in the toilet. Eric had stated that he would take them and others heard him. But I got in trouble with the school counselor Mr. Fischel and Chernobyl for lying. I also got the belt when I went home.
The belt- 'which if us brats didn't behave we would get a whipping. Spare the rod spoil the child.'
It was a 1 ¾ inch by 60 inch by ¼ inch thick real leather belt my dad used as intended until he got a new one. It hung by the stairway as a reminder for us. She would relish if we didn't behave we would get the ¼ inch thick belt. My brothers where not whipped as much as I. They also where treated better than me. I shared a bed with my little brother until we got bunks. My older brother had a dresser all to himself and my little brother and I shared one until Chernobyl put and end to that. We then got a big heavy table which I improvised a shelf on the bottom. This is where I had my clothes along with an old display clothes hanger. Whenever my brothers got hurt they went to the hospital and received proper care. When I did, I got shit on. Do you see a pattern forming here?
I was in the fourth grade but played like I was in kindergarten because I didn't have a normal life like everyone else.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Miy life birth thru 1st grade.
So this was to be about me and all the tragedy that is my life and ways not to be like me. But yet it will be those things.
You can't go home again.
It all began on a cold winter morning in March, nineteen hundred and seventy-nine. I was due February fifteenth but knew before my birth what evil that was waiting for me. So I was born three weeks late, and apparently healthy.
My mother, we will call her Chernobyl, for her fiery temper and always knowing what I or my siblings where doing before we did them.
She is the epitome of evil and badness in all its forms, from howling over you to do your chores to denying the simplest gratitude to others or us. This is why I am this way now, because of what I was denied as a child. The nurturing, caring, gratitude,kindness,love where all absent and are even today. But more on Chernobyl later. This is an introduction to me.
When I started writing poetry one of my first poems was stupid, ugly, bastard.
My first venture into poetry the the rhyme yet ill-formed 'a homage to and idea of hope.' It was written my junior year in high school. It portrayed life as its is, filled with all the evil and bullshit that my mother and family had done and not done to have a positive outlook on my life, and to point out that I should be saved by someone. Boy was I wrong but boy was I right.
Growing up, this poem was inspired by the television show Quantum Leap. I shaped me into what I did, what I became and how I acted. Everything from imaging me as Sam and my invisible observer Al, the incident my junior year, inspired by the episode Lee Harvey Oswald[aka Leaping on a string].
I didn't think that I would live past eighteen or as far as I have now. Maybe there is a greater purpose for me, after all. I was never around anyone at all growing up because Chernobyl [mother] denied us friends at school, in the neighborhood at church, everywhere. This is the main reason for my social anxiety disorder. Kindergarten was my first experience with people-other people my age who I had no idea how to talk to or even relate. Even after years with them, I still couldn't. I remember an exercise in English 9, where we had to have a phone conversation. Suffice it to say I failed it.
As bad as things where at school for me, it was worse at home. Hopefully my book will maybe open up my past and shed some light on who and how I am now.
I have burned some bridges in my life because of my upbringing. Some of you who went to school with me knows at least someone who I ruined a perfectly decent friendship with, because of this. You can say it's not Viroqua, it's not the people, it's not my family, it's me.
I am not a people pleaser. I have been referred to as an asshole, weird, shy, a jerk, stand offish, quiet and boring.
I don't know if it was just me or something else but even my cousins I went to school with seemed to not want to be part of my life. Maybe there is some truth to the lie that people liked me. I am not going to sit here and whine and bitch on how I was treated, no. This is to make sure that no one ever has to go through what I had to, ever again. This will be a clear, concise look at my life and the answers to the questions that some or even none of you want or need.
My book will follow my slow path down the dark road to the end and then back up again. Many of those who I went to school with will be able to see how a place or a single name can do to a person, and what could have been prevented and what should have been done in the first place.
Alas, it begins...
Used and Abused
Thoughts and ramblings of traumas and triumphs and tragedy through elementary, middle and high school.
Imagine, Again
Imagine there is a heaven
It's easy but many don't try
The only hell six feet below us
And there's no reason to cry
Imagine all the people
Living forever today
Imagine the countless gone
It's hard for you to do
No killing or dying for
and one religion too
Living life forever in peace
You may say we're all dreamers
But there are other ones
I hope you consider joining us
and the world will be livable and fun
A little addition to John Lennon's song Imagine. It's one of my favorite songs, by the way. Another was also from Quantum Leap from the episode 'To catch a falling star.'It's called 'The Impossible Dream.'
A line from Spacehog's self titled song “I'm not sure where I'm going but have no way of knowing also fits me and my existence.
Many things shape us into what we become and how we live life. Does this mean that since my life has been consumed by the dark side I cannot become a Jedi!? No. I could very easily become a psychopathic killer or poetry writer. There's a very thin line between genius and insanity as well as good and evil.
My first time seeing an act of violence-age 2. My older brother and I where in the bathroom of our trailer house in Readstown. He thought it would be a great idea to urinate on me as I waited for my bath. Chernobyl came in after I started crying, and I said what he did. She then took him and tried to drown him in the bathtub as punishment for what he did.
My first time in a bar. Age 3. We went there occasionally to find my dad or be sociable in a small town of six hundred at the time. That stopped when a guy was stabbed to death and the police found the murder weapon underneath my parents car. And this stuff only happens in big cities!
Kindergarten was odd for me as well as others. I was a loner. I'd play by myself at recess because of not knowing how to talk to other people.
I remember being somewhat attracted to a young blond student in my class. I didn't let my feelings for her show and didn't tell anyone until now about her.
I classes, I was put next to the smartest kid in class. In math tests I would try to cheat of his answers because I didn't know how to add and subtract! I would always answer everything with 2 and fail. I was a middle of the road student. I always looked to others to gain knowledge I didn't have.
One girl was extremely good at art. I couldn't keep between the lines on the simplest things.
Others caught on pretty quick that I was different. How I ever became a speed reader is amazing to this day. But then again my dad is also a speed reader so I guess that is one positive thing.
It was 1984-85 and an afternoon class of Mrs. Opprud. It's an amazing thing, hindsight. When someone could have been left behind, she saw something in me. Too bad my younger brother didn't fair so well two years later with a different teacher in her first year of teaching.
1st grade-
I was still afraid of Chernobyl and had to adjust to full days, not half days we had in Kindergarten. And this was with kids more emotionally and mentally developed than me. I remember having an accident one night and instead of telling Chernobyl I simply kept the same underwear on, knowing what would come about if I told. I went to school hoping and watching no one would notice. They did and I had to get clean clothes and my mother was called in. I knew if I told her she wouldn't let me go to school as punishment. School, I learned was the only safe haven from her. This pattern would come to haunt me for many years to come.
I first learned how to tie my she laces from Mrs. Fauske, because Chernobyl had no intentions nor the goals of teaching me anything.
It was fear, embarrassment and not knowing what people would do or say or do to me. I always expected bad.
Rule # 4-always expect the worst as not to be disappointed in the best. Yes, I have rules to live by inspired by one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. They will come into play, just like rule number one-DON'T TRUST ANYONE!
You can't go home again.
It all began on a cold winter morning in March, nineteen hundred and seventy-nine. I was due February fifteenth but knew before my birth what evil that was waiting for me. So I was born three weeks late, and apparently healthy.
My mother, we will call her Chernobyl, for her fiery temper and always knowing what I or my siblings where doing before we did them.
She is the epitome of evil and badness in all its forms, from howling over you to do your chores to denying the simplest gratitude to others or us. This is why I am this way now, because of what I was denied as a child. The nurturing, caring, gratitude,kindness,love where all absent and are even today. But more on Chernobyl later. This is an introduction to me.
When I started writing poetry one of my first poems was stupid, ugly, bastard.
My first venture into poetry the the rhyme yet ill-formed 'a homage to and idea of hope.' It was written my junior year in high school. It portrayed life as its is, filled with all the evil and bullshit that my mother and family had done and not done to have a positive outlook on my life, and to point out that I should be saved by someone. Boy was I wrong but boy was I right.
Growing up, this poem was inspired by the television show Quantum Leap. I shaped me into what I did, what I became and how I acted. Everything from imaging me as Sam and my invisible observer Al, the incident my junior year, inspired by the episode Lee Harvey Oswald[aka Leaping on a string].
I didn't think that I would live past eighteen or as far as I have now. Maybe there is a greater purpose for me, after all. I was never around anyone at all growing up because Chernobyl [mother] denied us friends at school, in the neighborhood at church, everywhere. This is the main reason for my social anxiety disorder. Kindergarten was my first experience with people-other people my age who I had no idea how to talk to or even relate. Even after years with them, I still couldn't. I remember an exercise in English 9, where we had to have a phone conversation. Suffice it to say I failed it.
As bad as things where at school for me, it was worse at home. Hopefully my book will maybe open up my past and shed some light on who and how I am now.
I have burned some bridges in my life because of my upbringing. Some of you who went to school with me knows at least someone who I ruined a perfectly decent friendship with, because of this. You can say it's not Viroqua, it's not the people, it's not my family, it's me.
I am not a people pleaser. I have been referred to as an asshole, weird, shy, a jerk, stand offish, quiet and boring.
I don't know if it was just me or something else but even my cousins I went to school with seemed to not want to be part of my life. Maybe there is some truth to the lie that people liked me. I am not going to sit here and whine and bitch on how I was treated, no. This is to make sure that no one ever has to go through what I had to, ever again. This will be a clear, concise look at my life and the answers to the questions that some or even none of you want or need.
My book will follow my slow path down the dark road to the end and then back up again. Many of those who I went to school with will be able to see how a place or a single name can do to a person, and what could have been prevented and what should have been done in the first place.
Alas, it begins...
Used and Abused
Thoughts and ramblings of traumas and triumphs and tragedy through elementary, middle and high school.
Imagine, Again
Imagine there is a heaven
It's easy but many don't try
The only hell six feet below us
And there's no reason to cry
Imagine all the people
Living forever today
Imagine the countless gone
It's hard for you to do
No killing or dying for
and one religion too
Living life forever in peace
You may say we're all dreamers
But there are other ones
I hope you consider joining us
and the world will be livable and fun
A little addition to John Lennon's song Imagine. It's one of my favorite songs, by the way. Another was also from Quantum Leap from the episode 'To catch a falling star.'It's called 'The Impossible Dream.'
A line from Spacehog's self titled song “I'm not sure where I'm going but have no way of knowing also fits me and my existence.
Many things shape us into what we become and how we live life. Does this mean that since my life has been consumed by the dark side I cannot become a Jedi!? No. I could very easily become a psychopathic killer or poetry writer. There's a very thin line between genius and insanity as well as good and evil.
My first time seeing an act of violence-age 2. My older brother and I where in the bathroom of our trailer house in Readstown. He thought it would be a great idea to urinate on me as I waited for my bath. Chernobyl came in after I started crying, and I said what he did. She then took him and tried to drown him in the bathtub as punishment for what he did.
My first time in a bar. Age 3. We went there occasionally to find my dad or be sociable in a small town of six hundred at the time. That stopped when a guy was stabbed to death and the police found the murder weapon underneath my parents car. And this stuff only happens in big cities!
Kindergarten was odd for me as well as others. I was a loner. I'd play by myself at recess because of not knowing how to talk to other people.
I remember being somewhat attracted to a young blond student in my class. I didn't let my feelings for her show and didn't tell anyone until now about her.
I classes, I was put next to the smartest kid in class. In math tests I would try to cheat of his answers because I didn't know how to add and subtract! I would always answer everything with 2 and fail. I was a middle of the road student. I always looked to others to gain knowledge I didn't have.
One girl was extremely good at art. I couldn't keep between the lines on the simplest things.
Others caught on pretty quick that I was different. How I ever became a speed reader is amazing to this day. But then again my dad is also a speed reader so I guess that is one positive thing.
It was 1984-85 and an afternoon class of Mrs. Opprud. It's an amazing thing, hindsight. When someone could have been left behind, she saw something in me. Too bad my younger brother didn't fair so well two years later with a different teacher in her first year of teaching.
1st grade-
I was still afraid of Chernobyl and had to adjust to full days, not half days we had in Kindergarten. And this was with kids more emotionally and mentally developed than me. I remember having an accident one night and instead of telling Chernobyl I simply kept the same underwear on, knowing what would come about if I told. I went to school hoping and watching no one would notice. They did and I had to get clean clothes and my mother was called in. I knew if I told her she wouldn't let me go to school as punishment. School, I learned was the only safe haven from her. This pattern would come to haunt me for many years to come.
I first learned how to tie my she laces from Mrs. Fauske, because Chernobyl had no intentions nor the goals of teaching me anything.
It was fear, embarrassment and not knowing what people would do or say or do to me. I always expected bad.
Rule # 4-always expect the worst as not to be disappointed in the best. Yes, I have rules to live by inspired by one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. They will come into play, just like rule number one-DON'T TRUST ANYONE!
Friday, March 5, 2010
My life and such by Chad A. Heal
Hello! My name is Chad. this blog is to tell everyone the story of my life. It has twists and turns and all sorts of what do you call those-memories. My life is not for the faint of heart. It's not a happy tale, if someone told you so, they lied.
This is also to raise awareness and information on what my life has become and what the public can do and not do so no one has to go through what I did.
So fasten you seat-belts and as the Joker would say, "Here we go."
This is also to raise awareness and information on what my life has become and what the public can do and not do so no one has to go through what I did.
So fasten you seat-belts and as the Joker would say, "Here we go."
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