Howdy all, My life story is basically this (why I am so f***ed up) - not a contest, I'm sure some people have much worse stories: My father left me before I was born - he was too messed up on drugs and alcohol to be a good father to me. After he left, when I was about three years old my sister got raped by a man who had raped about 10 other women, my sister was 9 years old- somehow he manipulated the justice system to stay out, even as a habitual offender. He was put away for 20 years - he is out now - probably still a rapist. We all went to family counseling for a while - where they diagnosed me with severe depression (when I was about 4 or 5 years old). Father-Son event's at school were awful - other kids talking about how great their fathers were - boy scouts drove me into the ground. In fourth grade I woke up one morning and told my mother I couldn't bear being at school (kid's made fun of me for crying all the time) - she filed all the paperwork to have me home-schooled. When I was six years old I was at my friend M's house, M's younger brother J (using their initials for their privacy) who was 2 years old got sodomized by a black man in our neighborhood (he was well known in our community for being a coke head - he hung out with the kids and no body thought it strange - he was in his early 20's) - my friend M and I just looked on as this was happening not knowing what to do but cry. My friend M wanted to keep it secret - I told my counselor and she told the police. The police came and didn't do anything - they interviewed me - I told them exactly what happened - down to the last detail. My friend M was scared and said he wouldn't talk to the police - I feel so heart broken for him (he didn't know any better). The guy who did this horrific act walked free. I spent the next several years grappling with horrific depression and anger that nothing was done - the man stayed in our neighborhood - nothing happened to him. My mom didn't want to approach any issues so she sent me to live with my grandmother (nobody except my grandma wanted to take care of me, my grandmother is a saint in my book). When I was about 14 I joined a group of white supremacists and we beat the man down and sodomized him with the end of a baseball bat - it provided me with some comfort. I left the group shortly after (when I was 16) - the whole time I grappled with my depression and sadness, occasionally attempting suicide - I tried about seven different methods (it's a lot more difficult than it seems, innate animal survival instinct - some of them should have killed me - or so the hospital staff said). Took over the LD50 of several medications with alcohol and somehow survived with my kidneys and liver intact - damn immune system and health. The next two years I developed a problem with alcohol and drugs - couldn't erase the image of that poor kid (my friend M's younger brother) from my head - he was crying so hard, and no one did anything to help him (except for me, by hammering that bastard who hurt him - still not enough comfort for my tormented mind). The image is still so clear in my mind - no matter how much alcohol or drugs I take. My grandma helped me track down my dad just before I turned 17 - figuring it would help my depression. My dad approached me with caution and asked whether or not we were looking for him for child support (I can somewhat understand where he was coming from, but it also hurt hearing that quite a bit, he didn't really give a f**k about his own son). I developed a good relationship with him - he insisted on giving me money and at least trying to be a father through the rough times I was going through. I entered college when I was 17 (right out of the hospital for a suicide attempt - off and on while I was 16 and 17, about a year in the hospital total during those two years). While in college my dad and I met for our regular lunch day - then he told me - after I finally forgave him and cared about him. He had acute lymphocytic leukemia and didn't have but 6mo. to a year to live. He died when I was about 20 years old (3 years ago). Throughout my life up until that point my grandfather would provide me with escape from the concrete jungle - taking me out camping with some members of our family in our favorite camping spot (an area with lots of old indian ruins and ceremonial caves). My grandfather worked for one of the national labs as an electrical engineer and mathematician - a truly brilliant man. He talked a lot about his days in the labs - I would always sit attentively and listen to his awesome stories about fighting in WW2 and how he worked on the nation's nuclear infrastructure. The only real good memories I have are being around him. A little over a year ago he died in a nursing home (run down) from complications with congestive heart failure. My family being as f**ked up as they are sold off all of his belongings (including several hundred rare books and his telescopes, he and I loved astronomy) - they pocketed the money. I cannot forgive my family for their mistreatment of my grandparents - they all know the hate, sorrow, and pain I harbor for them. My grandmother has Alzheimer's now and is in the last stages - she sits in puddles of her own urine and excrement for hours at a time because the nurses don't want to deal with her at the old folks home - she raised me and I cannot bear to see her in such a state - it breaks my heart ever time I look at her now. While in college my university made an error in my paperwork for financial aid - they didn't correct it until it was too late and all the funding was gone. I was forced to take a loan out from my bank - it drove me down pretty fast - started drinking a 24 pack of Heineken every night just to cope in some way. Of course my bank wanted immediate payment which necessitated I find work to pay off the loan. I ended up going to work in electrical construction for the past two years, drinking and getting high everyday and not caring about anything (zombie like state) - just ignoring it all. Last year, in May, I went to the hospital to recover from my alcoholism - I went through some pretty horrific stuff, seizures, black outs, etc. - they put me on benzo's to stave off the worst of it (those are highly addicting). Once my head cleared up a bit, I realized I didn't have it in me to keep on working - I was going to kill myself before I continued there. My cousin just got out of prison (assault with a deadly weapon - he ripped off a guys face for trying to rape a woman at a party) - he was in for 8 years - he developed a bad meth and drug addiction once he got out. My cousin got his girlfriend pregnant and decided to shape up and get off the drugs. My cousin had been put up for adoption when he was young - but we found him after he got put in prison and started up contact again. He came to our family looking for help - they all closed their doors and told him he would be homeless and they didn't care what happened to him (I found it appalling they would treat their own flesh and blood this way) - they didn't give a s**t. I did - I took my cousin in and helped him shape up - with a little help from a beer each night, and a little cannabis smoking. He is now clean and extremely grateful to me for being able to live with his wife and see his son each day. When I'm feeling down he usually inspires me - we have sort of all fallen down back to our addictions though (his son is over a year old now). I am becoming suicidal again - and this time I am sure I will not falter - my will and determination are absolute now. I don't know where I will head - but it's not going to be pretty no matter where it is. Hope you all can find some sort of strength or peace in your lives to continue on. Mine is all exhausted and absent now. PS My family also has an auto-immune disease - two of my aunt's have M.S. and my uncles have had their kidneys fail (on dialysis), two of my cousins have died already and my family is sick all around me.