Hey, so I wrote my life down a couple days ago, and it felt good. I had been in a depressive state following the death of my good good friend and it seems that doing this, wrtting my life story helped. I also started a new sleeping medication, which is so importaant. I hadnt had a good night sleep in so long. Parts of my story are in french, but mainly in english. I also don't care about any grammar mistakes, because i dont LOL.
I didn't know where i could share it, till i found this forum, so here you go! (Its a long read but if it can help someone out, its worth it). The format is also really messed up, it was a copy paste.
James
My Life,
By James McDermott
How can something, something so special and wonderful, but also be so negative, hard and sometimes unfair, be worth it all? Who chooses what happens in your life? Are you really in control? Or is it only sometimes? Or your honestly just going for a ride hoping for it to stop at that perfect moment? It’s none; life is just random bullshit with a shiny horn the bull ate.
For some, it’s the whole thing, a nice crap full of randomness, shit and that shiny horn. Others will get a little bit of randomness and a huge chunk of shiny and little bit of shit. But there are some, who get stuck with a lot of randomness, and a tad of shit, or vice versa. Some will get so much randomness and so much shit, that there’s no horn, well so it seems. Life is random, a shit and that shiny horn. You may not see it, but I can tell you, through all the randomness and shit, that there is, somewhere, that nice horn is waiting for you, and when you reach it, life will the most wonderful and special thing ever, and even more rewarding for some of us.
Everyone hurts everyone. Someone may of broken there leg, or someone may have been paralyzed. It’s not fair to say one hurts more than the other. For each person the level pain is unimaginable. You may evaluate the physical pain, but what about the emotional pain? Pain isn’t comparable, you cannot measure pain, and you cannot measure mental pain, emotional pain.
The reason I want to write my life story down is simply because I feel like it. Maybe it will help cure me, controlee my issues, idk, maybe the ones I’ve loved will be able to have a full understanding, or maybe not, idk. Maybe some will take this as an apology, maybe some won’t, I don’t care, I know who I am, inside of me, and those who’ve taken the time to know this real James, and stick by me when I disappear, I Love you. And even for those who can’t/couldn’t, I Still love you, it’s not easy, especially living through it daily. My door is always open, the more the cozier.
Now let’s start,
My name is James, I’m currently a 21 male suffering from a pretty big depression and bipolar disorder who’s girlfriend had to dump me infront of others due to her being scrared of me. I would never lay a finger on a woman, nevertheless the girl of my dream, the one who blew up my fortress where love was hiding, but emotions are something so different. So let’s get going from the beginnings.
The Younger Years (0-5)
Fair warning, the earlier years are shorter, memories a blanker and ages are the most precis. I know there is more to them then what I’m going to tell you, but those are my memories and what affected me. My mom, Dominique, and my Dad, Terry, where are a happy married couple. Heck, I even got a bigger sister! Alex!J
However, things changed. I was born. Not many of you know this, but I needed to have my collarbone broken in order to enter this world. I was sideways or something and that was the only move possible at the time. However, even so, my mom would always tell me how happy and smiling I was when I had a broken collarbone, sick, deformed face. From that moment on, she knew that resiliency would come in handy, and let me tell you it as. Oh, while that was happening, my father was becoming an alcoholic and had gotten diagnosed bipolar. I want to get through this fast and not get back to it till latter, my dad was an alcoholic, try new meds, either mix or stops and get back to being a drunk, a full cycle for a long time. He finally got out of it, and today, for the past 2 weeks, I feel like I’m getting to know the man that my mom feel in love with, and I can’t wait to go see him and share with him once I stabilize.
Anyways, tangent done, my dad lived with us until 3 or 4, maybe 5, and the only thing I remember is him sleeping in the basement, fighting with my mom and one fight my mom and him had where there went in the bathroom and me and my sister where looking through the bottom slip of the door and trying to listen. However, I do have one thing, and this is the shiny horn of this section, I found hockey. My dad was with me at home (can’t remember where mom was), but we stayed up very late, watching a Colarado Avalanche vs Calgary Flames game, where I feel in love with Joe Sakic. From that moment on, he was my favorite player. Hockey has been my savior and it will continue.
Primary School
Not much to stay, had my friend, my best friend Mac. We did everything together from grade 1 to 6. In hockey I was often last cut, but would always join either the French or English team where everyone loved me. Even the guys that stayed on the double letters in later years still loved me, and I didn’t know why. Maybe it was me smiling, idk. Had success, one some tournaments, but you know, I still thought I was a double Letter player. I was never a weak player, I was always relied on wearing many Cs and As. Hockey, again, was my horn, my second family where everything was perfect. I had fun, everyone liked me, and it was a blast.
However, outside of hockey, things weren’t so nice. I had Anger issues, being mean, aggressive in a way. The child you saw it the locker room was so different outside. I can still remember ruining after kids and things would go blurry and I’d feel this anger come over me, but I was chubby so I’d get tired out and that was that. I’m remembering this as we speak, I feel like lots of things will. In class though, I was very smart. I would more than often finish everything hours ahead of anyone, and I’d keep busy. I’d never study, got 75-85. While all of this good stuff was going on, well the bullshit was starting. We hadn’t seen our dad for a couple of year, and at around 6 I think we started supervised visits, and eventually, when I was 8 or so, I got very mad, like I did a lot, and controlled my mom into staying with him that night. Well boy, was that ever such a mistake (or a godsend, depends how you see it). I woke up in the middle of the night, and went to the kitchen for some water, but couldn’t reach the counters. So, hearing the tv still on, I go to where it is and as my dad “papa I’m thurste”. All I remember is him lifting his drunk passed out head up and over the part where you’d place your elbow, and point at a transparent liquid. Lil Jimmy here all thirsty and shit takes a huge swig, and RIP lil Jimmy. Got sick, mom came, didn’t see him for 3 years. He knew he shouldn’t of had me with him, not matter how much I wanted, and I was so mad at him for so long, but I forgive you papa, you weren’t yourself back then and I know you love us, you just couldn’t handle your randombullshit shiny horn yet, but now you seem like you have, and that I’ll be able to meet my real father, for the first time.
I didn't know where i could share it, till i found this forum, so here you go! (Its a long read but if it can help someone out, its worth it). The format is also really messed up, it was a copy paste.
James
My Life,
By James McDermott
How can something, something so special and wonderful, but also be so negative, hard and sometimes unfair, be worth it all? Who chooses what happens in your life? Are you really in control? Or is it only sometimes? Or your honestly just going for a ride hoping for it to stop at that perfect moment? It’s none; life is just random bullshit with a shiny horn the bull ate.
For some, it’s the whole thing, a nice crap full of randomness, shit and that shiny horn. Others will get a little bit of randomness and a huge chunk of shiny and little bit of shit. But there are some, who get stuck with a lot of randomness, and a tad of shit, or vice versa. Some will get so much randomness and so much shit, that there’s no horn, well so it seems. Life is random, a shit and that shiny horn. You may not see it, but I can tell you, through all the randomness and shit, that there is, somewhere, that nice horn is waiting for you, and when you reach it, life will the most wonderful and special thing ever, and even more rewarding for some of us.
Everyone hurts everyone. Someone may of broken there leg, or someone may have been paralyzed. It’s not fair to say one hurts more than the other. For each person the level pain is unimaginable. You may evaluate the physical pain, but what about the emotional pain? Pain isn’t comparable, you cannot measure pain, and you cannot measure mental pain, emotional pain.
The reason I want to write my life story down is simply because I feel like it. Maybe it will help cure me, controlee my issues, idk, maybe the ones I’ve loved will be able to have a full understanding, or maybe not, idk. Maybe some will take this as an apology, maybe some won’t, I don’t care, I know who I am, inside of me, and those who’ve taken the time to know this real James, and stick by me when I disappear, I Love you. And even for those who can’t/couldn’t, I Still love you, it’s not easy, especially living through it daily. My door is always open, the more the cozier.
Now let’s start,
My name is James, I’m currently a 21 male suffering from a pretty big depression and bipolar disorder who’s girlfriend had to dump me infront of others due to her being scrared of me. I would never lay a finger on a woman, nevertheless the girl of my dream, the one who blew up my fortress where love was hiding, but emotions are something so different. So let’s get going from the beginnings.
The Younger Years (0-5)
Fair warning, the earlier years are shorter, memories a blanker and ages are the most precis. I know there is more to them then what I’m going to tell you, but those are my memories and what affected me. My mom, Dominique, and my Dad, Terry, where are a happy married couple. Heck, I even got a bigger sister! Alex!J
However, things changed. I was born. Not many of you know this, but I needed to have my collarbone broken in order to enter this world. I was sideways or something and that was the only move possible at the time. However, even so, my mom would always tell me how happy and smiling I was when I had a broken collarbone, sick, deformed face. From that moment on, she knew that resiliency would come in handy, and let me tell you it as. Oh, while that was happening, my father was becoming an alcoholic and had gotten diagnosed bipolar. I want to get through this fast and not get back to it till latter, my dad was an alcoholic, try new meds, either mix or stops and get back to being a drunk, a full cycle for a long time. He finally got out of it, and today, for the past 2 weeks, I feel like I’m getting to know the man that my mom feel in love with, and I can’t wait to go see him and share with him once I stabilize.
Anyways, tangent done, my dad lived with us until 3 or 4, maybe 5, and the only thing I remember is him sleeping in the basement, fighting with my mom and one fight my mom and him had where there went in the bathroom and me and my sister where looking through the bottom slip of the door and trying to listen. However, I do have one thing, and this is the shiny horn of this section, I found hockey. My dad was with me at home (can’t remember where mom was), but we stayed up very late, watching a Colarado Avalanche vs Calgary Flames game, where I feel in love with Joe Sakic. From that moment on, he was my favorite player. Hockey has been my savior and it will continue.
Primary School
Not much to stay, had my friend, my best friend Mac. We did everything together from grade 1 to 6. In hockey I was often last cut, but would always join either the French or English team where everyone loved me. Even the guys that stayed on the double letters in later years still loved me, and I didn’t know why. Maybe it was me smiling, idk. Had success, one some tournaments, but you know, I still thought I was a double Letter player. I was never a weak player, I was always relied on wearing many Cs and As. Hockey, again, was my horn, my second family where everything was perfect. I had fun, everyone liked me, and it was a blast.
However, outside of hockey, things weren’t so nice. I had Anger issues, being mean, aggressive in a way. The child you saw it the locker room was so different outside. I can still remember ruining after kids and things would go blurry and I’d feel this anger come over me, but I was chubby so I’d get tired out and that was that. I’m remembering this as we speak, I feel like lots of things will. In class though, I was very smart. I would more than often finish everything hours ahead of anyone, and I’d keep busy. I’d never study, got 75-85. While all of this good stuff was going on, well the bullshit was starting. We hadn’t seen our dad for a couple of year, and at around 6 I think we started supervised visits, and eventually, when I was 8 or so, I got very mad, like I did a lot, and controlled my mom into staying with him that night. Well boy, was that ever such a mistake (or a godsend, depends how you see it). I woke up in the middle of the night, and went to the kitchen for some water, but couldn’t reach the counters. So, hearing the tv still on, I go to where it is and as my dad “papa I’m thurste”. All I remember is him lifting his drunk passed out head up and over the part where you’d place your elbow, and point at a transparent liquid. Lil Jimmy here all thirsty and shit takes a huge swig, and RIP lil Jimmy. Got sick, mom came, didn’t see him for 3 years. He knew he shouldn’t of had me with him, not matter how much I wanted, and I was so mad at him for so long, but I forgive you papa, you weren’t yourself back then and I know you love us, you just couldn’t handle your randombullshit shiny horn yet, but now you seem like you have, and that I’ll be able to meet my real father, for the first time.
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