13

Sometimes something happens that you wish to never speak of again. I have had several of those moments in my life. More than I care for to be quite honest. I've briefly stated that I lived in the woods for three years. The second boys home I went to was called Youth Estates. It was being run by a psychiatrist at the time. He had approval to try out a new program taking troubled teens out of society and then slowly reintroducing them back. I guess the thought behind this was fuck I don't know to be honest I can speculate but that doesn't mean its right.

I had been living with my Dad for about 7 months since he took me out of my first boys home. I was successful at getting negative attention from him. I tried several times in a positive way but that never got me anywhere with him. But the negative that got his fucking attention. I came home one day with a bad report card and my Dad did as he always did told me to go to his room drop my pants and he will be there in a minute. He beat me and then threw me out of the house told me he wasn't going to have a dumb ass living with him. Having no where to go I just walked the streets for awhile. I ran into some friends and we played for a bit and then they went home and I wondered what I was going to eat. About that time an officer saw me and pulled up next to me. He could see the fresh bruises from the belt my dad just beat me with on my arm and part on my neck. 

I don't really remember how the conversation went I just remember the guy taking me all the way out to burger king by exit 3. I was fucking hungry. He got me some food and we headed back to downtown St'marys where the police station was. He took me in the station and a Lady was there and she started talking to me and they had me remove my shirt and she started taking pictures.
I ended up going to my second foster home that night. I had been in one prior to going to Bethesda boys home in Savannah Georgia. I remember having some stuff in a suitcase at dads girlfriends house where all this happened at. When I got my suitcase it was empty. I asked about the stuff in it and the lady said that's all dad gave her. 

I stayed in foster care pretty much until a week before going to Youth Estate. I was then in custody of my Dad once again. We already knew I was going there so it was mostly just getting the stuff I was told I would need. 

I still remember that day I walked in there. Dad had decided dumb asses didn't need hair so he got me a crew cut. So I was basically bald I was scared and I had no idea of what to expect. I mean I had some idea having already been in one boys home but this was way different. Yeah it had cottages like Bethesda and that kind of thing but I was being placed out in the woods to live in an 8x12 plywood cabin. I got introduced to my group and said my goodbyes and off into the woods we went. 

The first night was a defining moment in my life. You see I was 11 when I went to Youth Estate. I had turned 11 in the foster home I was in. This was just before Christmas. I was puny and the older bigger boys took their turn. I remember thinking why was I so horrible that my parents didn't want me anymore. What did I do to make them move away from each other? Why was I even fucking born? A question I still ask my self regrettably. 

I suffered a great humiliation and unfortunately it wasn't the only time. Anyways there was another thing that would happen it was called the circle. Basically the group leaders (adults paid to watch us) would leave camp and the boys would put you in the circle and punch, kick, cuss and even hit with sticks. I remember when I was getting my ass kicked by everyone that I had the thought I hope they kill me. I was already tired of being here. I had nothing, no one and no where to go.

Sometimes holding them in and not talking about them are more damaging then the events themselves. I have fully recovered from the physical abuse but the mental that is another story all together. I'm a communicator. When I deny myself who I am then I just fall apart. I've kept so much garbage in and I don't even know how to start pitching it. So I'm just pitching. 

While this is a very painful moment for me not only in my own history but to relive the events. I know that if I try to keep these things in they are only going to destroy what is left of me. And honestly I'm just holding on by a thread as it is.  Every day is a constant battle for me anymore. Do I decide to care enough to hold on or do I just do it. 

I would encourage anyone who has dealt with similar issues to please find people to talk to. Listen to them and help them help you. Do not spend your life suffering as I do and taking it out on everyone. We are not hopeless or helpless. We just have no fucking clue of what to do. Physically I'm a 45 year old man but emotionally I'm still that 11 year old boy who is scared to fucking death.

I'm not sure whats going to happen to me. I know what I desire but my weakness is steadfast. How does one find value in themselves when they have lost it? I really don't fucking know. Words alone will not do.