--sigh-- What the hell man . . .

To date, I haven't really told you all much about me personally, without much explanation as to where it is I sometimes disappear to or why. Mostly because a lot of it is very personal and disheartening, and I don't like to share when I know no one can really help. However, today I feel a need to explain myself and why last year is perhaps the worst I've ever lived.

I've put up with a lot of shit over my lifetime. My biological parents divorced before I was even a year old, and I had to deal with them spiting each other ever since, and with my dad's weird crap like trying to brainwash me to his side. I've dealt with him and his second wife, my ex-stepmother, with how they fought and how they treat their kids like they're little automatons made to be controlled every step of the way. And how I was pretty much the only one to give my brother a reason to think differently. I had to tell my dad, by myself when I was 12 that I didn't want to see him anymore and listen to him lie to my face about my mom, his sisters, and his mother as well. Note that after this, I never heard from him ever again and it wasn't until I had almost graduated high school that I spoke to my brothers from him again.

While I was dealing with this, after my mom had divorced my first sister's dad, and remarried (unbeknownst to her) a hebephile. A hebephile is not a pedophile in that they don't target children, but very underage teens (12-15). He was an ass even before we moved in next to his parents and his sister, who all live on the same street. After my first sister had moved out to go live with her dad and my mom had two kids with this guy, he came on to me one night. I was not physically assaulted (thank the gods), but he terrified me so much that I couldn't look him in the eye and went to bed every night with a knife in my hand. I kept it to myself for as long as I could, partly because he made me promise not to tell anyone and also because I thought I could deal with it on my own. I couldn't though and ended up telling my school's counselor, but I didn't know at the time that she was obligated to tell the police. There ended up being a huge thing where he denied everything and his family believed that I was lying to make him bad.

It was only a long while after that that I moved to Leland with my grandparents, and I interned at the County Sheriff's Office for a summer at their CSI, which I must tell you was really cool. At that time, my grandmother had tried to move out on her own with me, but was unable to do it on a 15 hours a week job. So we had to move back in with her husband, who I didn't know was a pedophile until I visited my family for a week back in Gastonia, where she told me why I needed to watch myself and my sister when we were there, with him. Now every time I see him around one of my cousins or a family friend's child, it makes me sick to watch him sit one of them in his lap or get far too close to their faces to be appropriate. There was one time, when a friend of my grandmother's had brought her little one with her to hang with us, the three year old girl was just playing and didn't know any better but was putting her head in his crotch. I kept trying to get the kid away from him, and he just smiled at me and I knew that he knew why I was doing that, and I wanted to punch his face in.

--sigh-- I moved back out of Wilmington after I graduated, in with one of my aunts. This only worked for a month or two because I prefer to seclude myself in my room and had yet to learn some more responsible things about being adult, but also because she kept telling me I needed therapy because I hadn't dealt with Omi's death, my grandmother on my dad's side, and also because she kept trying to control everything I did. All that until finally she said she couldn't deal with me and I moved in with my mom (who had moved out on her own and divorced again), where I acquired some of the cruddiest internet known to man. My connection kept cutting out and I was often very depressed because I knew I needed to find a job, but it seemed like (and still does) it was completely impossible, and I had lost contact with all but a select few of my friends. I went from a couple dozen to maybe four. I think the most I ate while living in that house were two sandwiches and a bowl of pasta, for the whole day. One thing's for sure, I lost plenty weight and got my exercise walking everywhere, I'd estimate around 2 miles a day.

But then one day, someone I hadn't spoken to since middle school, a guy I knew right after that thing with my second stepdad, messaged me and asked if I wanted to hang out. Now, I had a really bad, awful feeling about going to see him. I honestly think now that I should've listened, but I'll get to that. I went anyway and met his parents, who I learned wanted to offer me a place to stay and get back on my feet. I didn't even think twice and told them I would move in as soon as I could get my crap from my aunt's house. That right there took forever and a day to do, and my aunt really pissed me off that day too. During this time, someone had been spreading rumors about me and my mom and blacklisting our names with employers in town, and my aunt had received an email from someone she didn't know telling her that my mom goes around partying and does drugs, sleeps around, and all that crap--which isn't true. I told her that straight up and STILL she doubted me. Me! Over someone she doesn't even know over the internet!

Anyway. I moved in with this guy's parents. Now, his mom is in a wheelchair, she's not totally chairbound, she can get up and move around but not for very long. With that said, as far as I understood it I was to do the dishes and help keep up with the house until I could find a job. What it ended up being, however, was that I had to clean the whole house by myself and take care of the dogs, and that I was expected to pay rent. This was probably the hugest WTF moment of my life, especially when their son started getting on my case and telling me that I wasn't doing my job, that I was making him look bad to his parents, and that I had no work ethic to speak of and that I'm lazy. I tried explaining to him that I wasn't ready to take on caring for a whole house on top of vigilantly searching for jobs while also running errands for his mom down to the gas station, but what I get is that I'm making excuses. And then he tells me that he's gonna come down there and give me such a talking to that I'm going to need therapy after, no shit. My sarcastic response is to tell him that some people already think I need therapy. I bet he still thinks that I'm scared of him or something, when really he should be scared of me. I come from a family full of psychopaths and sociopaths, and I have the past to shape me for it as well.

Needless to say, I moved out as soon as I could. I had already decided before his parents came to me and my mom and said that it just wan't working. By this time, my mom had moved in with her so-called best friend, and I had nowhere else to go. Now lemme tell you, my mom's best friend used to be really cool, and we used to be so close that I called her an aunt and her daughters my cousins. This day and age though, her house is in a shambles. There's trash everywhere, on almost every available surface, the girls' room is the dirtiest of all. So much crap piled up that the two cats they got did everything they could not to walk on the floor. I was afraid to walk on any uncarpeted surface without at the very least socks, which included the kitchen and the two bathrooms, which were nasty. One of my two cousins, the older one, had moved out because she sick of dealing with her mom's crap, which was a good move because it gave my mom space to sleep and gave my cousin more peace of mind. However, a lot of my cousin's friends are very untrustworthy types and while she was there, a lot of them would come over and things would go missing, whether money or objects.

After my mom moved in, it fell upon her to clean the house. She did the dishes and her and my younger cousin got their room into livable shape (no trash on the floor and things organized). When I moved in, things went downhill fast. My mom's friend did not want me there, despite me having no other choice, and it fell upon me and my mom to clean up the house ourselves. The whole thing. Including the open garage outside that they had used as a storage for shit they didn't want or use anymore, instead of getting rid of it like they should, which a lot of it was infested and had a lot of rain damage. I personally cleaned up the kitchen and the main bathroom (that her brother was supposed to be taking care of because he uses it most), I made them frikking sparkle, including the damn walls--a couple of which had two year old dried vomit on them. The only reason the house had gotten so bad was because this woman let it. Her reasoning being that if nobody was going to do anything, then she wouldn't either. That is one the most childish things I've ever heard. No one should relinquish responsibility of their own house and children like she had, and push it onto someone else and expect them to be happy, even grateful, for it.

She kicked us out. After we'd gotten everything clean and actually livable, she kicked us out for being irresponsible and for our perceived attitude. So we packed our shit, and keep in mind that I couldn't bring my desk, my bed, or any of my things besides a suitcase of clothes and my Frankenstein computer to this nasty house, and it's all still at that guy's parents' house. My mom had to leave half her stuff at he friend's and the other in storage. I had no such luxury. My mom has lost everything she had in storage because we simply didn't have the money to pay the fee. I thought we had lucked out when that guy's mom called me up and offered to buy my desk and my bed because they had some girl that wanted to move in with them, and I told them I wanted $140. This way, we could've paid the storage fee, gotten my mom's phone back, and had enough money to feed ourselves for a while. I'm still waiting on that money, three months late.

We moved to my grandmother's, each of us with nothing but a suitcase of clothes as we both had to leave things behind. One thing to explain is that this apartment is way overfilled. Before I moved out of here, me and my grandmother had moved to another apartment, and we were doing okay for a while until one of my aunts who lives down pulled the rug out from under us. She had said that she was going to pay the bills for her mom, until one day she quit, saying that she didn't have it in her budget to do so, not while also taking care of her family (her husband and two kids). The woman is a fucking bookkeeper who can afford to eat whenever she likes, go to the movies, and buy expensive clothes every week, and still afford two high end vehicles. I call bullshit, but moving on. So, to help pay for the bills, my pedo grandfather moved in with her and took my old room. Then my uncle, who had broken up with his fiance moved in too, also with nowhere else to go. Then his two kids from his ex-wife (whom he's still legally married to) came to live with him because his wife is probably the most irresponsible, drug addicted, sluttiest person to ever have a child and promptly lost them when social services took them. They all sleep in the living room. Now me and my mom are here too, and tensions are fucking high.

The kids, having lived with a mom who ignored them, put them on Ritalin, and let them get with anything they could, are now having plenty difficulty behaving properly. The oldest, 14, acts more like she's 8 and is on two different medications for bipolarity and depression. The other doesn't give a flying crap about anything and has an attitude to rival a full grown, rebellious 17 year old. Both have been held back two grades and are still struggling in school, to which their father responds by telling them he doesn't think they'll graduate high school, let alone get a job and actually get somewhere. My grandfather, on top of the fault I've already explained, is just as greedy and stingy as his daughter, the one that has plenty of money to throw around, and also thinks that he's the head of the house for some reason. He has no respect for anyone and I expect that sooner rather than later, my mother is gonna tear him a new one if he doesn't watch his ass. My uncle is on medications as well, doesn't have a job, spends all his time either asleep or on his computer, hardly moving from the couch he sleeps on and blames it all on the medicines and his 'mental disability'. We know that he can move on and get better, but he likes to play the dramatic, oh woe is me shtick, all the damn time. Add to this that my grandmother recently got cancer and is still going through treatments, this house is frakking insane.

And now, when I'm full and ready to get the hell out of here, that guy is threatening to throw all my stuff out in the street. I'm still trying to find a way to get back to Gastonia. Hardly anyone I know can afford the gas to take me back or pick me up, and the others wouldn't lift a finger either way. Luckily, I've just been told that my first sister's grandmother is going to get a vehicle and get my stuff from that goddamn house. And I swear, if that boy has even touched a single thread of my clothes or a page of my books, I will end him. I don't give a good goddamn if he's national guard or not, he will not see me coming.

So, one thing I've come to hate is people projecting their own problems onto someone else. I've seen way too many people lately that need to wake the fuck up and atone for themselves and their actions.

This concludes my rant and explanation for my disappearances and intermittent inactivity.

Also, TL;DR: Cerani's life fucking sucks and she should probably be dead by now, but she apologizes.

I want to first say that I read every single one of this. And it's unfathomable. All I have to say now is that you've got to be one of the strongest people I know to actually put up with all of that and still maintain some shred of sanity when you could easily be dead or in jail. I want to hug you. ; ^ ;

I'll be the second to say that I read every word. I even went back a whole paragraph a few times, because reading something like this all in one go is a little hard for me.

I admire you, Cerani. Like...a lot. I can hardly believe that you have gone through all of this and can STILL fight against it all. I agree with Masq, you ARE the strongest person that I have the privilege to know. And I know for a fact that I would have broken down if I went through all of that. No question about it.

You are seriously an amazing person. You have my best wishes and love, because if you have made it this far, you can keep going. I have faith in you!

Aww, you guys made me cry. ^///^ Thankyou, so much. I don't really know what to say, and you guys have no idea how much it means to tell someone that they're strong like that. Zeri, I can hardly believe that I've lived through all this myself, and I'll certainly accept an internet hug, Justin. :)

*gives CC the biggest internet hug ever in the existence of anything*

>w<

--feels ribs being crushed but loves it-- XD

And it's okay man. Helping you out has helped me in that it both distracted me from my problems made me think about where I stand on certain issues. I'm still looking forward to when you and me can hang out. ^.^

. . . Oh, I'm still breaking into tears. Good tears though!

And to those of you who think I'm lying or telling some kind of sob story, fuck off. I couldn't make this crap up if I tried. Honestly, I feel like I live in a frikking soap opera. x.x

I appreciate it. People will get an anvil to the face.

Cerani wrote:And to those of you who think I'm lying or telling some kind of sob story, fuck off. I couldn't make this crap up if I tried. Honestly, I feel like I live in a frikking soap opera. x.x

*cocks revolver*

Who hurt you? Who said something stupid?

I wanna hurt them a little. Just a little bit.

Calm Zeri, it was preemptive. I expect someone to call bullshit for what I've said, and I've got one of those feelings. :/ Though if someone does say something, I'll let you know.

...

Can I hurt them if it happens?

Just a little bit?

Yes. But not before I'm done with them.

M'kay.

Just leave them alive so I can kill 'em. =3=

Haha, sure. Might not be much left though . . no telling. ;P

As long as there's still a beating heart, I can kill it.

...

And I can give you some torture techniques if you want. =D

XD I'm actually familiar with some techniques, as well as a few holds and knot ties . . . uhh, that's not to be taken the wrong way. ^.^;; Cerani just knows a lot of various things. :<

. . . . . Am I turning into Kuori . .

DAMMIT! The guy I'm supposed to be moving in with, he's fucking moving. >.>

Oh shit.

That's not cool.

You gonna be okay?

I dunno. I don't have anywhere else I can go, and I can't stay here and go nuts.

Well...

Fuck.

Do you have ANY sane relatives in America? If wouldn't be too hard to get to them if you took a bus too...

Sane, yes. Not broke, no. I'd have already been living with my sister if her stepgrandmother wasn't such a bitch.

>>

Iunno what to do. I want to help you, but I can't really do much at college...

Yeah, I know. That's why I normally don't like telling people this stuff, there's not a whole lot they can do.