The "Life Story" Thread

Discussion in 'Real Life Stories' started by Bunnyrabbitz, Jan 8, 2013.

  1. #1 Bunnyrabbitz, Jan 8, 2013
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 9, 2013
    I'm very surprised no-one has made this thread. Just a summary of your life story, I'll go first with how I grew up since it has been referenced in recent threads. The stories do not have to be your whole life if you want, they can be portions. I will change some names or information to protect identities.

    Mods: Everything I'm saying is fictional, and am saying sell drugs and illegal activities as broad terms, not going into any details that would be incriminating/rule violating. This is purely for informational and entertainment purposes, as a discussion topic.

    Worth the read, but remember that this is a high mature and explicit material so be warned.

    PART I:

    Born in Saint Johns hospital in Yonkers during the 90's as a white male, to Irish and Portuguese parents. My father had already been married once before, and had left his previous family. Our family lived in a small suburban town X in a fairly impoverished area near the border of Yonkers, but we moved to a small suburban town C in a nice neighborhood. There I spent my early years in a well-off family when trouble began. At 6, my father was diagnosed with a terminal illness, Parkinsons Disease. Not really grasping that concept and completely unrelated, I began to get into trouble at school. Fights with other kids, talking, cursing, vandalism etc. I was then diagnosed with ADHD after seeking a therapist for violent thoughts, and was prescribed many different ADHD and ADD medicine such as Ritalin and Wellbutrin and began regular therapy. I experienced horrible side effects from these medicines, such as a lack of appetite, memory loss and various mental dysfunctions, in my personal opinion the worst was an inability to understand human emotions. Meaning it basically made me what most people would call the symptoms of Autism. I would continue to get into trouble, and was bullied because of my differences often throughout, very badly. I was hung from fences, spit on, beaten, and made fun of constantly. I felt very alone, had very little friends and was saddened. My best friend, my cat named Bunny, died and I was all alone with nothing and nobody. I enjoyed rap music understanding the plights such rappers as Eminem had, video games, and reading. Then, one day my father left and never came back when I was 10, after my mom had a violent outburst at him one night. My mom became diagnosed with depression and a shut-in, while my father would see me regularly and stayed at a friends house.

    Then he got an apartment, and I started to see him less. He moved around from place to place including towns C, X and NYC. I began C Middle School and discovered the bad kids that were in the school. In C Elementary School this element was non-existant, and I gravitated immediately. I started smoking cigarettes at 10 and household/legal drugs, tried marijuana at 10-11 and experimented with a couple other soft drugs. By 11 I had tried medium level drugs and began committing criminal activities and depression set in. I would get in trouble at school all the time, including out of school suspensions. I was in trouble for everything from possession of weapons to bomb threats. Shoplifting, property damage over $1000, car-hopping and such. Around 12 I began using hard drugs, started carrying a weapon to school often and sold my first drugs. I wasn't fond of the extended period of time you had to wait for the money, and the possibility of getting robbed because of my size made it a non-option. I was robbed a couple times, all for drugs and just being a user or conned into buying fake merchandise. I left that alone, and started smoking marijuana heavily after becoming acquainted with the process. Causing trouble everywhere I went, busting up stores for fun and breaking into houses. My dad became suddenly ill, and was moved to Connecticut, where he stayed in the hospital. My mother and me would have arguments, mostly because I was causing trouble, not because she had become unstable yet. My grades started to drop, I was cutting school and just staying home because my mom didn't care. I was fairly unsuccessful with girls early on until a little bit later, but every couple of years a girl would come along. I did whatever I want, hung out with bad people but was always a weakling in the pack and was picked on because of my size. When I first began C High School it all changed, we were given much freedom and I barely went to school. I started hanging out in the streets late at night, just trying to eat, smoke, get high, get a little money or stay warm. I would take whatever I wanted, and did whatever I wanted with my collaborators. My mom would frequently catch me doing illegal activities or drugs, and was frustrated with my behavior and already suffering from mental ailments because of my fathers absence. I began to realize that she was collapsing under the pressure, and was on my own more and more after this. Most of my family was either gone, far away, or unstable. I had hung out with group home kids, ex-cons and drug dealers, and engaged in illegal activities.

    My mother attempted to enroll me in the Excel out-patient drug rehabilitation school program but it was voluntary and I said no. I was abused at home by my mother physically and emotionally often, as she forgot how to deal with me other than that way. Personally, the emotional torture was much worse. The physical abuse was just a bruise, cut, swelling or other injury which wasn't that big of a deal for me opposed to the tightening in my chest, the self-consciousness, the crying and being terrified. She punched me in the face, slapped me in the face, threw plates, pushed me, and threatened and used on me various weapons. She called me horrible names, screamed and cursed at me and emotionally traumatized me. She was withdrawn, injured herself in front of me, and had episodes of extreme rage or sadness. I wasn't the only victim, she also kicked and injured the cats, and I have a fairly reasonable suspicion she killed my fish on purpose. These incidents got so bad that the police reported to our house. Our financial situation was average throughout after my father and his care left and started to taper off towards the later years into lower economic classifications. My father no longer saw me at all, every once in a while I would see him and he was in horrible condition. I lived in horrible conditions and was not taken care of, often in toxic areas with shit falling from the fucking ceiling, filth, and trash everywhere. We were able to stay in the house that my parents had originally had because she was in a nasty legal battle with my fathers side of the family, which I assumed was one of the factors for the abuse, as it was a topic she always screamed at me about. Eventually, the school interfered and I was referred to the PINS program, or Persons In Need of Supervision. I reported to the probation offices in Yonkers, and only went to school and slept, and my probation officer was discussing send me to a non-secure facility. I opted for a private reformatory boarding school in Connecticut that my father paid for as we had little money, because I was able to avoid the non-secure, and escape the bullying/discrimination I was still partly enduring at C High School. I packed up my stuff and headed up in the span of two days, and then lived up there. There I started over and had a new image in mind, of someone who wasn't pushed around. My housing roommate tried to frame me after he stole a pack of cigarettes and I defended him, and I first learned about real snitching, and we regularly participated in forced labor as punishment, night time search raids and inability to leave. I would stand up for myself, do drugs, participate in illegal or rule-breaking behavior, and fought back at kids. I broke into peoples housing placements, purchased a gravity blade, and got into confrontations with other residents. I also failed Grade 9 as a result of this whole production. I learned to show no fear and how to focus my anger on my enemies. After serving a few months, I was released on June 1st, and sent back home to C. I began selling drugs regularly and stood up for myself. The first day home someone tried to shake me down from a car and almost jump me. They saw that I wasn't backing down, had my hand in my pocket and backed down. I loved the new power and I got more ballsy. The first week back a kid who hustled and I hung out with prior tried to rob me. He ran away after I was showing him a 70 block, so I called him and said "Come back.". They thought that I was the same old me, and they could extort though intimidation. They pulled over, jumped out the car and I put a gravity blade to the kids neck in the middle of Broadway. I closed the knife and one of the kids swung at me, I ducked and hooked the kid next to him in the face who was interfering trying to stop me from doing anything. The kid was bleeding and I was given 60 as I said let me break even and we all go home alive. I left and felt on top of the world, they couldn't touch me. I began trapping outside gas stations, my neighborhood and riding around making drops. My mentor was a person I had met prior to my visit to the reformatory, and knew well. He showed me the ropes of selling drugs on a satisfactory level. I began to work with the Columbians, Asians and other factions. We made drops, we dealt with the competition, and put in work in the street. I became an alcoholic and hard drug addict, and struggled with various mental disorders/ailments. I began having panic attacks and anxiety related problems. I refused to seek treatment and dealt with it by overdosing, angry outbursts and extreme emotional pain. I then started R N School Catholic school to repeat the 9th grade. For the first time in a while, a girl started flirting with me.

    I didn't land it, but I was madly infatuated with her and it made me unstable, not receiving real affection (not sluts) for so long. I overdosed on hard drugs and alcohol to numb any feeling, because I didn't like it, and was unconscious and fell into a coma and awoke many hours later on the floor. I was suspended twice and almost kicked out within a few months, but was able to pull through. I was abused worse and worse at home, and my mother started to become extremely unstable. As I began making new friends and started to stop hard drugs, I began flirting with other girls. Soon I was getting my life back in order, selling off excess stuff, saving money, organizing my stuff, become physically fit and such. By this point I was not cared for. I made most of my own meals, did my own laundry, was rarely given money, was left for long periods of times with no care. I was preparing for a brutal future, and had the mindset that enjoyment was unimportant. Survival was more important, I had to prepare for jail/the streets/who knows. I continued to sell drugs every chance I got, and started really making moves. I had large amounts of illegal activities going on, and was regulating the flow of crime in the streets. I had not yet become a real stick-up kid, and enjoyed the ease of selling drugs. I was a good businessman, and my customers and fiends were happy. The biggest concern was the police, and they started to notice as my business grew larger, even going so far as to raid one of my co-workers. I began seeing a girl and getting my shit together. I was getting my life under somewhat control and it felt good, but it was far from normalcy. My grades were lower-average which was a huge improvement, even though conditions for me were getting worse. Feeling very alone as I had no-one and nothing. I had no idea what was to come. This was my reality and I accepted it.

    Black by popular demand.

    Anyone else want to go?
  2. Sorry for the block of text guys, TL'DR is I grew up in dysfunctional family and was a hooligan.
  3. OP, it's almost as if you DON'T want anyone to read your post.

    Just saying...

    My life... I can't talk about it too much... coz it's an on going process.

    When it's over, or almost over, I'll perhaps write it down.

    But definitely not in a block of orange text. :D

  4. Get high and read it, after you start reading it gets interesting. :smoking:
  5. homie please change it to black text so I can read it
  6. Try 'highlighting' it by clicking your left button on the mouse and dragging over the orange text.

    I find it easier to read when it's highlighted like that.

    But still... difficult to read.

  7. Here you go.

  8. Wow... thanks man...

    Now I really must read... :D

  9. Your welcome. Enjoy.
  10. Ok... just finished reading your life story and...

    Wow... all that and you haven't even finished high school.

    What I mean to say is... so much has happened and you're still so young...

  11. No, this isn't my whole life story, this is only part.

  12. My thoughts.

    My life story is too TL;DR for me.

  13. Oh, I see... so what happens next?

  14. I plan to return in a few years and do 15 year installments.

  15. ? What's a 15 year installments?

  16. Every 15 years do the life story, I'm thinking of writing a book towards the end anyway.

  17. So... in 15 years, which would be 2028, you will write the next chapter of your life?

    What if you die before 2028?

  18. Then I'll just write the last chapter then.

    EDIT: I'm really high, it wouldn't be that long 'cause I'm already a couple years in.

  19. Come on man, get high and write it up! I'd love to read it.
  20. I don't mind reading, maybe i'll post mine later but please implement paragraphs!

    Wall of texts are just like ugh.

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