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Found 11 results

  1. Stephenjames

    OCD...

    I need to put a sex offender in prison to right the OCD/brain chemistry in my brain. I don't know what is wrong with my brain. I have been fighting it now for over 26 years. The doctors won't give me a diagnosis. I've had OCD for as long as I can remember, its horrible. For the past 19 years I have been trying to get someone who sexually abused me put in prison so that my brain will right again and I can fight off the anxiety and depression and all manner of symptoms in my head. It's really frustrating as no one seems to believe me that it is true. The worst part is that it was the Police that 'arranged' for me to be sexually abused in the first place . I don't know what was wrong with my brain from birth. It might be autism, or learning disabilities? I don't really know. I really struggled with school. Everyone else around me seemed to find school easy. I had a notion that I was going to join the RAF when I left school but I think that seed might have been planted in my head by my abusive sister. I never knew what I wanted to do when I left school. I didn't really have an interest apart from finding a cure for my brain so that I could be a Pilot, even that though seemed to be someone else's idea. I really wanted my brain fixed so that I could fight back. Or at least fight on an even footing. Life always seemed to be unfair. My abusive older sister treated me like ****. I really hated her. The best time of my life was when I was 18 and my sister had left home and I got to go walking on the local national park with my parents. I still wonder if science will come up with a cure for autism in my life time. Aged 14 I was set up by my school to be repeatedly raped by the diseased turd in the back room of a grotty pub.... I was made to leave the Air Training Corps aged 15 for smelling of body odour... of all things. Bloody broke my heart, I had my sights set on a career in the RAF. I just gave up. I used to come home from school at lunch times and get drunk and go back and it in classes not knowing what to do. I was so paranoid that I smelt bad. I was set up by my abusive father and sister to copy the diseased turds crappy drawings in return for a chance to 'suck it off'... I was made to go to art college even though I had no idea how to draw or even any talent. I wasn't even a homosexual and even if I was no one on god's earth would willingly go near the diseased turd! I didn't have any interest in art college and I still don't. I was set up by my abusive sister and her sickening scheming mind of hers. She's had my life planned out for me since the day I was born, I've never had free will, I just get told what to do by my abusive sister and father. My sister can only think in terms of consequences. I was 15 years old. Most of the other people I knew at school had girlfriends. I was forced against my will to get into bed with the diseased turd in the back room of a grotty pub. I could have been in bed with a girlfriend or at least safe at home doing my homework. For the life of me I can't fathom how responsible adults and teachers at my school and social workers and Policemen decided that I should be raped by the diseased turd. It doesn't make any sense.... Aged 16 I was drugged with too much Cannabis Resin, LSD and Pain Killers so that was my health out the window. I had to leave art college as I was too ill to do any of the work. That was in 1992. I am now 42 and I have never done a proper days work in my life. I failed my GCSE's aged 16. Some bright spark decided that I should be made to 'hang out' against my will with someone who is mentally ill. So that was my education and future out of the window. The depression and anxiety from failing my GCSE's got worse over the 5 years of high school. When I was 15 the mentally ill person made to pay for its cigarette addiction, so I become hocked on nicotine. That was my physical health out the window. A few months latter at a house in a nearby town I was introduced to cannabis resin, so that was the end of me... When I was 16 I was made by my abusive sister to the Tourette rapists grotty smelly flat to be used as a fag powered vibrator so that my mentally ill and delusional sister wouldn't have to worry about squeezing out 'retards'.. as she puts it. Up until the age of 16 I never actually had a sex life and now thanks to Claire G** I never will. Melanie G***** and Claire G** and her friends thought that dancing around in front of me with their tits out whilst ethnically cleansing was a barrel of laughs. I was ill in bed. Asleep. I need to put Melanie G****** and Claire G** behind bars... When I was 10 I thought I was going to grow up to be a professional boxer... When I was 11 I thought I was going to grow up to be a fisher man... When I was 13 I thought I was going to grow up to be a fighter pilot... I didn't actually get to do anything apart from be ill... because that is how Melanie G***** planned my life out for me... I used to enjoy playing football. Then when I was 10, Amanda W*** asked me for a tounge job in the play ground in front of the whole school. I haven't play football since... When I was 10, I was told that someone said that I had nice hair. So my mentally ill psychopath of a sister made me wear too much hair gel to school to rot my hair out of my head until I was 17 when she had me raped in my bedroom by the diseased turd and then I was forced against my will to loiter around public toilets with filthy old grotty homosexuals in stench ridden shit holes after being ill all day at college. They called it 'comedy clubbing'. Then on the morning of 10th January 1994 to add salt to the wound I was made to go to a careers meeting at the college so that Stephen B**** could laugh at me in a public toilet so that I would rip all my hair out of my head... now I am 42 and I don't have any hair on my head all because of a comment made to be sister when I was 10... They actually used me as a public toilet loiterer aged 17 after my fathers had me raped in my bedroom... foul shit ridden diseased public toilets... so that my sister could have a bit of a laugh with Claire G** so that Claire G** wouldn't have to worry herself... The foul shit ridden dirty old man in the public toilet on the morning of January 10th 1994 was set up in bed next to mine in April 1997 to be given the chance to masturbate in my face and then shake my hand so that my sister could have a bit of a giggle to herself... The NHS actually wasted money and doctors even gave it some thought before hand... they even gave it a name 'mike'! Mike! returned by some surprise in September 2002 to let me know that I could pay for a t-shirt in the petrol station on the way back from a Beth Orton concert in Bristol so that my father could have me illegally detained against my will so that my sister wouldn't 'feel' bad about showing off her new son after spending years in New Zealand... I am told that the doctors wanted to lock my sister up... by my fathers said no, not my precious daughter you can lock my son up instead and stab his arse with a needle and fill him up with needless pills and torture him for 3 months in a mental home for fun, whilst my precious daughters gets married. joy oh joy!... I just wanted to learn how to play the guitar, I thought why not. My fathers convinced the doctors that I was about to go out a kill people... it was my fathers and sister that are killing people... December 16th 1998, the day of my 23rd birthday. The day after we moved into a new home. Claire G** insisted that we move out of Brixham because she didn't want to feel like a embarrassed Tourette rapist. I was set up in Selina M***** car so that Claire Guy could accuse me of trying to perform oral sex on her after she had been raping me for 8 months... I can't imagine wanted to perform oral sex on Claire G**. I wouldn't p*** on Claire G** if she was on fire... Now Claire G** has been stuck in my front temple lobe for 19 years because of my untreatable OCD and the only way to get her out is to put her in prison for sexual abuse...
  2. I wanted to join the RAF and become a fighter pilot but a mental case got in my way.... Still trying to fight for justice against the Social Services, the health service, the Police, the department for education, the tourrete rapist, the diseased turd etc.. the list goes on and on.... Still can't quite fathom out how to get solicitor on my side so I can fight for justice and compensation... Need to get the Tourette rapist and diseased turd out of my head and system... I need stop the constant harassment and verbal abuse from the social services... Need to put the Tourette rapists child porn scam in front of the crown court to clear my name.... It's been 26 years since I was able to get a good nights sleep...I really need a break....
  3. I could have gone home a started my long recovery in early October 1996. I could have got well again. I would have only been 20 years old. I had my entire life ahead of me. I would have been in joyous recovery after 18 months of mental torment and not being able to breath. I was fighting for breath 24/7 for 18 months. Peter O'Brian CPN and who ever his team were, set me up at Derriford Hospital on the 28th October 1996 for 24 hour sleep deprived electroencephalogram. It's now 2017 and I have yet to recover... I don't know how a mental health team could be so irresponsible to put someone like me with my condition in such danger?? Unless they did it on purpose to make me ill?? It was Detective Sergeant Stephen Blair and his foul toilet dweller and its Cauliflower cheese that did it. I don't know if they had it planned out in advance or it was a spur of the moment thing but it cost me my natural born life. I was almost out the door and on my way home to recovery when... it really isn't fair. I could have recovered. It wasn't until 1998 that I was given a second electroencephalogram that I started to recover only to be taken to the Buggerist house in Plymouth for Julie Burgoyne to trigger me again with 'Stephen, what haven't you been eating?' and it started again. I was ill. I could have been home and dry on the 16th December 1998 when we moved into our new home in Paignton, if it wasn't for Claire G asking me what my room was like which triggered me again. I was ill again. This time it has taken 19 years and counting and I'm still ill. It could have been a fresh start in a new home in a new town. I could have been in recovery, I would have been 23 years old. Instead because of Claire G bi-polar brain and big mouth I have wasted most of my life trying to fight off Claire G. A complete waste of time and energy. I saw when the pain shot across my forehead when I was made to say 'It's like a room' that I would have to put Claire G in prison for sexual abuse for me to be in recovery. My whole life has been on hold for 19 years while I try and figure out how to sort my brain out because Claire G can't keep itself to itself... Claire G offered to make me a millionaire when I was 18 if I kept quiet about the sexual abuse she had subjected me to when I was 16...
  4. Really angry and upset as I right this. I have had to recently call the Police out due to abusive neighbours and verbally abusive social workers. The Police don't seem to have yet to have solved the problem, I will have to call the Police again. We moved to a new address back in December 1998, it was the day before my 23rd birthday that we moved in. I thought it would be a fresh start, a chance to start again and move on from past abuse. I have since found out that my mother had been asked by the family of the female perpetrator that abused me for my mother to move my family out of my home town when I had been put into a mental hospital and had no reaction to medication and it was found out that I had infact been abused by the female perpetrator and they had been lying to try and cover the sexual abuse up. So, it hadn't been a fresh start it had been blackmail. Why would my mother agree to move out of the town just because the Guy family didn't want to be embarrassed?, it just doesn't male any sense why wouldn't my mother stand up to them and tell them No! if you want someone to move, you move out. I'm really angry. My mother had been blackmailed by the Guy family to make us move out of town so that Claire didn't lose face. To make matters worse, the day after we moved into the new house, the day of my 23rd birthday I was supposed to be going shopping to a nearby town with my sister and one of her friends. Only for my Father to receive a phone call in the morning to say that, and I quote 'Claire is 'cuming' is that a problem'?. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't realise that my own father had been involved in the sexual abuse I had been subjected too. I wanted to say, 'Yes, that is very much a problem' 'I don't want Claire anywhere near me or my home'. I wanted to scream my head off. There was something in my fathers voice that threatened me into replying. I few weeks previously I had typed out what Claire had said to me whilst an before she was sexually abusing me and sent it to her last known address, her mothers house. I now think that I was made to this so that they could entrap me. My sister, Selina and Claire arrived at the house. I hadn't even unpacked. I don't know why I just didn't spend the day unpacking and help to move into the new house. Why would I want to go shopping with Selina and my sister anyway? There was loads to do around the house why didn't I just stay home. It would have saved me a life-time of stress. We went out to the car, my sister demanded whilst laughing and giggling that I 'sit in the front'. I am sure my sister has a mental health condition. Claire made a demented 'Mooing' sound then said 'What's your room like?'. It wasn't said in conversation, I wouldn't want to speak to someone who had sexually abused me anyway. She said it with sarcasm in reply to the letter that I was made to send to her mothers house. Claire insinuated that I really had infact wanted to try and perform oral sex on her and hadn't been put up to it by my sister. I felt really ill and dirty... I wanted to get out of the car... I knew what would happen to my brain if I answered and that it would last for many years to come. Infact so far it has been 19 years of pain and mental torture. I said reluctantly, 'it's like a room' and then the pain shot through the left hand side of my brain just like it had walking out of the Ben Peppers bedroom after they made me do LSD all those years ago. Then the panic started to set in... and the anxiety and depression.. We got to the town and Claire just wandered off without saying a word. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I could have been safe at home unpacking my stuff. Claire didn't stay to do any shopping... it had been a set up. I now know that in order for the pain, anxiety etc to stop and for my brain to 'flick out' again I would have the monumentally task of putting Claire in prison for sexual abuse. It has been 24/7 for the past 19 years and still, I have yet to convince the Police of the sexual abuse that I had been subjected too. It turns out that the set up the day we moved to the new place had been part of a child pornography scam that Claire had dreamed up in order to try and put me in prison so that Claire and my sister wouldn't had to go to prison. In 1999 and 2000, my sister and Claire and her social worker friends had infact been behind my bedroom wall in the flat next door screaming their heads off at me threatening to force paracetamol down my throat if I didn't do as they said and download child pornography to a laptop that they had made me purchase in order to put me in prison. It is now 2017 and the social workers are still behind my bedroom wall. To make matters worse members of the Guy family have moved into the house next door to me. For what reason I have yet to fathom. Claire G was not welcome at my home and she knew it, she had to get my father to threaten me in order to come to my home to verbally abuse me because it was 'getting high'. Claire G was feigning distress and head butting the air and making involuntary hand movements and making noises at me. I was forced to answer but I didn't want to I just wanted to get out of the car. Claire G is a pest. 19 years ago I could have spent the day unpacking in my new home. It would have saved me distress and mental torment the likes of which you have yet to imagine. I could have been happy at home and been out working, instead of being knocked about by Claire G, her abusive sister, my sister and the social services. What a waste!! Claire G needs to be put in prison. Claire G's child pornography scam doesn't prove anything other than Claire G is a paedophile. I need to call the Police about the social workers screaming at me through the walls of my home. There is no need for it, it just aggravates my nervous system. Claire G is so mentally diseased I can't stand to think about it. I was actually forced between its legs by my father and made to grin and bear it for 8 months against my will. If I ask for Claire's current surname or address I get threatened by the Police with arrest. How backwards is that?? Claire G forced her tongue into my mouth on Brixham harbour and I get my mouth swabbed by the Police, my DNA goes on record and I get a caution for harassment?? What kind of a sick joke is that?? I don't like Melanie Graham, she aggravates my nervous system. Claire G 'arranged' a revenge rape in my bedroom by David S and I'm the paedophile?? What planet do these people live on?? The Guy family are now trying to fit me up for a spell in prison before trying to use me a some kind of prostitute whilst living on the streets. They do it by hanging around my home and screaming through my walls and verbally abusing me. They are so sick in the head that they think its funny. They actually use their jobs as social workers in order to carry out their crimes, and as of yet no one has raised the alarm. They have been hanging around my home for 19 years verbally abusing me. Why hasn't someone stepped in to stop them??? I don't understand the mentality of these people. The morning of the set up in Selina M's car, someone stole my wallet out of my bedroom. Where they using it to blackmail me into answering Claire G's verbal abuse? Why would I waste time shopping in Torquay on the day of my 23rd birthday with someone who has arranged for me to be raped in the past? When I could have ben at home unpacking my things into my new home? Was Melanie G jealous that I might have a new home and she didn't. She lived in New Zealand, it was nothing to do with her. Claire G has ruined my home life and my brain and wasted 19 years of my life. She has cost me my mental and physical health, my career, my family, any children I might of had. Just so she could have a cheap 'dig' at me because it was getting high. To make matters worse, to get it self over the fact that I turned around in Selina's car to point out that 'I am not going to answer that' Claire G made me through out of my things. The entire contents of my bedroom and home, the very things I could have been unpacking the day I moved in. It did it by screaming though my walls at me. I didn't even know they were there. A counsellor said that I had been brain washed. I want my bedroom back. I want to be 23 again, its not fair. I've been cheated.
  5. I really wish my sister could have left me alone when I was 10 years old and not have made me wear hair gel to school to humiliate me. It has really damaged my hair and my mental health, there really was no need for it. Both my father and sister ganged up on me and forced the hair gel onto my head. It was really upsetting. Apparently someone at Primary school in the 4th year said that I had nice hair. I don't know what psychiatric condition my sister has but she went mental and found it necessary to smother my head in hair gel o ruin my hair. I was only 10 years old, I couldn't defend myself against both of them. I looked ridiculous, people laughed at me, it was horrid!!. My sister had it all planned out, every step of the way! She's a psychopath, its really frightening what she has subjected me to over the years!! It wasn't until the 3rd year of Secondary school that I was introduced to The Stone Roses on a Brittany Ferries ferry on the way to France, that I stopped using hair gel and started to grow my hair back that I realised how much damage the hair gel had caused to my hair. That was when the Diseased Turd Rapist was brought into Brixham Community College by the maths teacher Stella Boundy in order to rape me and stop me from joining the Royal Air Force. (It's only now at the age of 41 that I begin to realise how much damage my father has done to me since the age of 18) The Doctor says that I am mentally unwell because the diseased turd raped me. I have lost count o the amount of times that the diseased turd (David Spring) has raped me between the ages of 15 and 17. Being buggered by Gary Burgoyne at the age if 14 didn't help my mental health. Being made to 'get my own back' aged 15 by buggering Gary Burgoyne made things all the worse. Which is what stole my sex life. I haven't been able to get an erection since that night in December 1990 at the Burgoyne's house when my parents came home as I was buggering Gary Burgoyne. I know, my bad, I'm not even a homosexual. I don't fancy males, nor would I want to have sex with one. I was just so bloody angry about being repeatedly buggered when I was 14. I was under age. I'm not a homosexual as I say, I didn't want to be buggered. It's really upsetting and distressing. It took my sex life away. Apparently I have to tell a girl/women what happened to my penis to get my erection back, or so I am told. How on earth do you tell and girl you got caught by your own father buggering another boy up the arse when you were 15 years old?? I'm not even a homosexual. Nor would I want to buggera boy up the arse. I only fancy women. I became really ill in the summer of 1990, when I was 14 years old. I wanted to buy a baseball bat from that 'trendy' sports shop in Paignton to batter the diseased turd to stop it from raping me. I became really angry. I didn't know that I was being set up by the school to be raped. Apparently my sister had it all planned out to stop me from getting married and having children. She must be mentally ill or something. I need to get a solicitor and set a Law Degree to figure out how to sue the school for rape. They set me up with Jamie Conway how has bi-polar disorder on September 2nd 1987 as well to stop me from doing my GCSE's which I need to sue the school for. I needed my GCSE's to join the RAF. As I say Melanie Graham had it all planned out and as far as I know she has the rest of my life planned out for me as well. I don't have a life of my own. I have to do whatever my Father and Sister tell me to do. It's grossly unfair, in England we live in a democracy, there are Laws and Free will and Freedom of speech. I need to bring the Law down on Melanie Graham to stop her form what she is doing. She is mentally ill and needs to be stopped. I want a life of my own, not something she has dreamt up in her sick brain. Apparently my sister set me up aged 30, to live next door to a dirty gross foul sick old homosexual known to both Claire Guy and my sister in order to make me physically unwell and to stop me from having children. I am now 41 and I have yet still to come to terms with what I was subjected to in that flat living next door to John Barker for 4 years. I came within a knats whisker of saying to the Police there is a dirty old man in my bedroom please could you help me. Which I m told would send Trevor & Claire Guy to prison for 10 years a piece for their Child Pornography Scam. I was on the phone to the Police, I am hoping they still have recordings of my conversations with the Police call centre to try and fathom out how John Barker stopped me from reporting him to the Police. Apparently he was making death threats. I'm sure it must still be possible to prove that John Barker sexually assaulted me in my bedroom that morning in August 2010 so that Claire & Trevor Guy can be sent to prison for 10 years. I just need a Law Degree to fathom out how. John Barker scarred my body for life in that flat. I want Justice!!
  6. I was set up in 2006 by a female perpetrator to be abused, stolen from and made morbidly obese all so the female perpetrator could feel better about herself and so that she could lose some weight. I'm not quite sure how to define selfish by someone who 'uses' another person as a 'fag powered vibrator' in order to sexually satisfy ones self and to have an orgasm, Jesus!. C. would make me sexually abuse myself between its legs in order for it to 'cum'. I was black mailed by the fact that my Policeman father would find out that I was in trouble with illegal substances, I couldn't go home and ask for help, I was only 16, I didn't know any better. I was terrified. I was saw 'J' outside C's house in early 1999, it said "Oh there's the nutter who's threatening court action, because Claire, because he's schizophrenic because he took some drugs!". Then in August 2010, the very same person walked into my bedroom after letting it's self into my flat with a key, sexually assaulted me before walking out again. I have yet to find out how J stopped me from telling the Police but I was on the phone to the Police. I was 10 stone whilst at college in 2004. I was 18 stone after being abused by J for 4 years in 2010. All because C hasn't got the brain to keep its vagina to its self. I have yet to find out how over weight C did become. Apparently C would have died a super-morbidly over weight obese person of half a ton due the abuse she subjected me to, if it wasn't for the fact that they went onto mistreat me even worse. I am now obsessed with weight lose and healthy eating. I was never over weight growing up and didn't have to worry about what I ate. Now thanks to C and J, worrying about my weight is about all I do. I feel ill all of the time and am physically scarred and disfigured from the abuse I suffered at the hands of J in that flat. I haven't been able to go to the beach since 2006. My mind is a total mess, I'm completely paranoid and hear voices. I'm too scared to go outside the front door. C actually gets off on abusing me and find its funny.
  7. Stephenjames

    Verbal abuse..

    I am really upset to realise that it has been 19 years since I moved to 8 The Glen, the day Claire G. deliberately and knowingly caused my brain serious harm because she was 'getting high' if you ever. I have been fighting Claire G. off 24 hours a day for 19 years and I'm bloody exhausted. I have just one goal in mind, to put Claire G. and all those involved in prison for sexual abuse. I didn't even know that I was being used a something to laugh at. I didn't have the slightest clue that my sister, Claire G. and her friends and social workers not to mention my own father were situated in the flat behind my bedroom wall screaming at the tops of there voices (or with loud speakers), verbally abusing me. They did it to set up a child pornography scam on a Compaq Presario Laptop that my sister made me buy to try and discredit my claim that I had been horrifically sexually abused by Claire G. aged 16 in a flat set up by my father and Stephen Blair. Their goal in doing so was to prevent me from having children which would upset my abusive sister. Pain shot through my temple like you would not believe, the depression that followed was heart breaking, to the point that my blood boiled. Claire G. said to me in Selina Moores car on the morning of my 23rd birthday outside 8 The Glen, "wot's your room like", insinuating that I had 'really' wanted to perform oral sex on Claire G. I really didn't. I was screamed at and made to go around to Claire G's flat to be sexually abused. I didn't want to have sex with Claire G. I just wanted to ask my parents help with being poisoned with LSD at Ben Peppers house. I had never had consensual sex with anyone, I was 16 years old, I was supposed to go to College (even tho that was another set up by my sister to humiliate me and to stop me from getting a job). I didn't want to perform oral sex on Claire G, I didn't want to go near her or have anything to do with Clare G. The upset that my father caused that morning is beyond comprehension. he said to me in sarcastic tones "Claire is 'cuming' is that a problem?" I felt sick to my back teeth. I was expecting my father to put Claire G and my sister in prison. Not to have something to do with the abuse itself. My head span and I felt ill. I don't know if the problem is OCD or something else to do with my brain. I just knew that I had to put Claire G in prison to stop the pain from happening. Easier said than done, and now 19 years of my life have passed by (19 years that I could have been out working) and all I have done is waste my time trying to get help. It was my parents new home, where I live. My sister lived elsewhere it had nothing to do with her and absolutely nothing to do with Claire G. I was so bloody angry at my father for allowing Claire G to come to my house. The betrayal makes my skin crawl and my stomach sick. I thought he would have been on my side. How wrong I was. Every dinner time around 18:30pm they scream there heads off from the flat next door to 8 The Glen, I can't quite hear what they are saying it like a white noise of screaming. The stress that it causes to my nerves is really painful and makes me feel ill. I have tried to involve the Police to try and stop them from doing it. I guess I will have to take matters in my own hands. In around 1999/2000 they were screaming through my bedroom walls all kind of threats and abuse, death threats and insults to try and get me to masturbate over child pornography to try and make Claire G feel better and to stop me from having children as I grew older. It was set up by Claire G and Stephen Blair (a child protection officer if you ever!) in 1998 when I was 22. They made me study and take exams at a college in basic computer study to try and entice me into the world of computer and child pornography in order for Claire G to try and save her job. I have been told she works with children. I have been told that they would threaten to force paracetamol down my throat if I didn't masturbate over Child Pornography to make Claire G 'feel better'. I now live in constant fear and ill health. I am afraid to go outside my front door. Life is one big nerve wrecking nightmare. I don't know when the screaming started but I am told that my sister whom I thought was in New Zealand was infact behind my bedroom wall screaming at me to masturbate over child pornography in order that only 'she' would have children and that she would remain Queen 'shit'. I now live in constant fear in my own home. it's not safe to be in my own home. I am afraid to go outside. I never know when the screaming is going to start again or whom is behind my bedroom wall verbally abusing me. I have pleaded with my parents to try and make it stop but they just lie to me. Apparently the Child Pornography scam was Claire G's idea. A sort of 'cure all' for the crimes she had committed against me when I was 16/17. Show me up as a paedophile to try and stop Claire G and my sister from going to prison. Apparently Claire G 'got over' me turning my head around in Selina Moore's car on the 16th December 1998 by screaming at me to throw out all my possessions. I have yet to get over being made to answer Claire G's question of "wots your room like?". It is my bedroom, it could have been a fresh start for me, I could have been in recovery. Now I just suffer from anxiety and depression. I have been told it's what you can prove in court that matters. How do I prove that Claire G was sexually abusing me? I now have to stop the abusive idiots who are screaming at me every dinner time from Flat 6A, its really getting beyond a joke. To make matters worse members of Claire G's family have moved into the house the other side of 8 The Glen. This really has to stop. Full stop.
  8. I've never been good enough for my mother. Ever. First, I was fat. Always, save the eating disorder I developed in middle/high school, when I starved myself down to a "normal" weight range. She bullied me about my weight for as long as I can remember. She put me in dance with first my sister Ashley, who is 5 years younger, then my sister Sommer, who is 14 years younger than I am, joined as well when she was old enough. I hated it. I was no good at it. They laughed at the tape of my first recital, when I was 10. You get the picture. The things I was interested in, such as band, just weren't that important to them, ever. They never came to any events. My father never even came to so much as one band concert. They even made me skip solo and ensemble for band to go their stupid out of town dance competitions. Nothing that was important to me was ever important to them. I even had to spend my birthday weekend there one year, at a competition, on my birthday, and I got no cake, no card, no present, nothing. When my mother found out about the sexual abuse I suffered for 7 years at the hands of my father's (really stepfather's, story for another time) daughter from his first marriage's hands, she blamed me. I was 5 when it started, 12 when it ended. I got into drugs in college round one, eventually dropping out. That lasted through my 20's, even as I galavanted around the nation doing some really good things. She never realized that the abuse was what triggered the self-medication, or maybe she didn't want to, because then she'd realize that she had failed as a mother to protect her child in her own home. After a complete and utter breakdown in which I landed in a psych ward in New York, I came back home, went back to school, and graduated college with a computer science degree. I totally turned my life around, and now I have a great job, money in the bank, and I even do nice things for my parents even though they don't really deserve it after all they put me through. And, the thing is, nothing has changed. I was reminded of that on Friday. My sister and her fiancee own a food truck, and there's this event every third Friday of every month during the summer here called Food Truck Fridays downtown. Their truck is a part of it, and we all went this past Friday. It was really crowded, and when we were at one of the outdoor tables, a couple came and sat by us. When they started chatting it up, my mother immediately launched into how proud she was of my sister and her business, then, without being prompted, launched into her being assistant director of the dance studio, her job selling legal software, her getting her MBA, and the array of other things that make her so proud. That's when I realized that no matter what I do, how much money I make, I'll never be good enough for her. I never was. She'll never be proud of me as I am. She'll never brag to strangers about me. I'm the fat one, the gay one, the one with no romantic future she will ever brag about, the one with the job she considers "controversial" (I'm a liberal political writer, and I'm working on my first book). None of my successes matter to her at all. They never have, and they never will. She has never and will never beam with pride about me like that. Ever. I really have to work on not seeking or needing approval from these people. I'll never get it. I have to, on some deep level, realize that. I'll always be a fat embarrassment to them. Always. I wish I could disappear, but I'm doing the next best thing- planning to move hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles away, without warning them as to what my plans are. I really just wish I could disappear, but I suppose that's the next best thing.
  9. Hello all. I have awoken from my slumber. I am a victim of inhumane physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. I am also a kidnapping victim. I wrote a poem for myself and maybe, it will help others. I don' tknow where to turn or what to do. Here's my poem, to help others, maybe. I will come back for you. I know how frightened you are, I can hear you screaming, I know how confused you soon will become, they did this. I know the tip of the needle will hurt you so badly, And I know that your going to lose your life even if you don't. I know your nights are filled with terror and tears, I know all you want to do is love so much, The are going to steal it from you without you even knowing. They are going to take your soul and drag it through hell. It matters not how far your thrown, The words you hear tomorrow will hurt you but not defeat you. They will take your humanity and throw in a closet like an old coat, They will take your joys because their yours, not theirs. Fear not, young man, the tears that are falling ARE yours, Do not fret hiding in the leaves, you, one day, will remember the rolling clouds fondly. Draw and write as much as you can until that too is gone, You will again, one day pick up your pen and write this poem . You are not theirs and their belts, their needles and their insults won't change that, You are going to suffer while you hang in your closet, do not fear it: I am with you. You are going to lose all the things they hate about you. Soon, very soon, you will be nothing more than an animal in the dirt. You will soon, lose what mind they failed to crush, You will suffer in ways you can't even imagine yet, my heart breaks for you. You will be robbed of your very humanity and turned into scum, You will lose everything but it's not your fault. You will hurt others not because your your the devil but because you were told you were the devil. Fear not, young man, they aren't your fists and there not your sins. You will hold onto the dreams they give and then take away, I know you won't listen to me now and that's ok. You will not die in the dark but you will suffer in it, You can't hear my voice and you will only hear their screams. I love you more now then I ever will, you will one day be safe, Do what you must to survive in the flames, I will come back for you. Michael 1/29/2015
  10. VintageCrayon

    Venomous Bite

    Your poisoned words are killing me You are nothing more than a snake Attacking victims visciously Your poisoned words are killing me Crippling me emotionally Trusting you was a huge mistake Your poisoned words are killing me You are nothing more than a snake
  11. VintageCrayon

    Daddy

    I used to race to the front door when I'd hear you come home, I would greet you excitedly with a hug and a smile I was daddy's little girl, it didn't take much to make you proud - Nor did it take much to make you angry and hostile. As I grew older it was much more of a challenge, Making you proud and appeasing you were a definition combined. I appeased you one moment, then suddenly disappointed, And proud again the next moment in your shifty state of mind. Unpredictably temperamental and distant you became, Tensions growing stronger between us year after year. Always intimidated, yet ever-longing to make you proud, I remember when that need to please became motivated by fear. Where once the motivation was a rewarding "good girl!", Time and alcohol transformed the father I once knew. Rarely the recognition for simply doing my best now, It seems you are disappointed no matter what I do. I was daddy's little girl, what happened to that? Nowadays the best we seem to be able to muster Are attitudes towards each other that are somewhat civil, And, if I may add, just barely cutting the mustard. I'm done wondering what I can do to make you proud, I'm no longer a child - I'm my own woman now I have a need to live for me, follow my heart, my dreams, Sort things out for myself, despite not yet knowing how. I'm in love with an amazing man of whom you seem to disapprove, I want to be with him forever - oh how I'd love to have your blessing, But I don't need your approval in order to be happy, And as nice as that would be, I seem to be digressing - I just wish the daddy I once had could come out for just a second, To tell me he still loves me, and that my efforts weren't in vain. To tell me he is proud of me, and will be no matter what, Because he loves his little girl, and that's the way it will remain. Sadly that fantasy of mine will never materialize to reality, We've grown far too much apart - our stubborn natures much the same. We each find fault in each other and deny the fault the other found, Until one of us admits defeat, blame becomes our game.
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