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My life has been threatened what do I do


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It sounds like you're not in any kind of position to fight for someone else.  You need to spend some time fighting for yourself.  And, I expect as a side benefit a lot of those other problems will go away.

 

Gaming isn't a solution to financial problems.  Period. Neither is any bitcoin scheme out there.  Hard work on the other hand, is.

 

You're 27.  You're single.  There are a bunch of folks on here with families to support.  They'd find it hard to make it on minimum wage.  You on the other hand have a host of options. 

 

You list your location as Donelson, so you're not out in Egypt with the Dollar General as your only option for employment.  I expect you're within walking distance of dozens if not hundreds of jobs open to someone willing to work.

 

What skills do you have.  Did you finish high school?  College?  You listed trying to get an old job back.  What's the story there?

 

You mentioned a car payment - and I expect that's on the Frontier you bought a while back.  A lot of people drive the very thing that holds them back financially.  In Donelson, I'd consider a $500 beater or a bike.  Get rid of the payment and apply that money to rent.  Do you have friends outside of your former fiancé?  Do you have options for roommates?

 

It's easy for us all to get down on ourselves sometimes - especially when we can't seem to catch a break.  But you're 27, young and single.  You've got options that a host of people on here would give anything to have.

 

Forget fighting for your former fiancé's affection.  I think you realize now that it's a losing proposition.  Instead, decide to fight for yourself.  There are 22,000 people on here who are pulling for you - and a bunch who are likely in a position to help you get to where you want to be.  You've got to figure out what that looks like. 

 

Luke9511 this ^ is in a nutshell what everyone has been trying to tell you (in our weird have some fun kinda way).

 

Only you can fix your problems so man up and get started.

Best of luck.

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Want to hear about not awesome.

 

I was not planned and probably not wanted. Up to that point my father had been travelling and living it up until he knocked up my mother. Six months later he did the right thing by marrying her but that didn't mean he liked or even wanted me and it shows. My first memory, when I was 4 or 5, was of my drunken father laying me over the armrest of an old brown recliner as he beat me with a belt. Why was he beating me? Because I wasn't able to count to 10 in school. So he told me I had to count the hits. I would make it about 1/2 way and just to make it stop I would say 10. Then he would say it was wrong and start over. I bet I was beat for 20 minutes as I figured out how to count to 10 but it wasn't about me counting, it was about having someone to vent his rage upon because my mother had left my father a few months earlier because of his drunken, abusive antic and because he didn't have my mother to abuse anymore he took it out on me. Over the next couple of years I was beat by my father, my mother and my mother's boyfriend. And honestly those years are a blur. But I do remember being drug around by my arms, feet, hair or whatever they could grab a hold of as they beat me. A few years later my mother and father decided to get back together and that is things really got bad. I was beat with all kinds of things, daily. My father liked using unusual things to punish me and would find odd things or make things to beat me with. My mother's favorite thing to use was a straightened out metal coat hanger that she used to wail away on the backs of my legs. My father, for as long as I can remember, was ALWAYS mean to me. As I walked by he would grab the skin around my waist and twist it until it bruised. He would push me down or trip me then point and laugh. Anything I did that I was proud of he would destroy then laugh as I would cry. He would use locust limbs, with thorns, to beat me as he made me low crawl between the house and barn. And all this was before I turned 10. Oh, and my father's father was with us for a few years and he did pretty much the same thing so here I was, a 7-8 year old boy, being beat and tormented daily by those who are supposed to love and cherish me. My best memory of my childhood was waking up before they did so I could watch the Stooges without being afraid.

 

By the time I was 13-14 I was away form home a lot. I was getting drunk almost every day, being mean and fighting. But the biggest fight I had was to avoid going home because I knew the second I walked through that door I was in for a fight I could not win. The way it normally went was I would come home and my mother would lay into me, then my drunken father would start beating me and my mother would stand by and watch. My father would throw me through doors, into radiators and even loosened teeth by punching me in a drunken rage. Then my mother would come in and tell me it was all my fault that it happened. Even to this day she blamed me for when my brother tried to kill us. She said it was my fault for not giving him money for his drugs.

 

It was only after I was bigger than my father that things quit being physically abusive and things seem to settle down but I was still getting drunk all the time. They were still abusive but in a different way, they started using words and controlling behaviors. So again I would be gone with friends doing things I should not be doing. The vast majority of my childhood friends are in jail or have been in jail. And I should have been right there with them because I was drinking, fighting and just being a person no one wanted to be around. I was mean in my younger years, not just mean spirited but probably one of the meanest people I have ever met. And it is a struggle not to go back to being a mean person. And that is why I do not drink. It is because I say and do things that a normal person would not do. Most people who had an upbringing like mine do not turn out normal. I will say that I am far from normal and do have quite a few quirks and skeletons but all my adult life I have fought because I wanted to be one thing, not like my parents, and that fight goes on to this very day. There are people on the board who have seen first hand how my parents act towards me and how insane they are in their actions.

 

Something else, I do not remember my father ever saying he loved me, ever. And when I was getting ready to go overseas I went to visit him and when I tried to give him a hug goodbye he walked away and didn't say a word, no goodbye, no see you later just a cold shoulder. He cannot stand me and probably has more hatred for me today than the day my mother squirted me out. He probably sees me as the person who ruined the plans he had made for his own life. My parents have done nothing for me other than try to make my life miserable but they did do one thing, ensure I would do everything in my power to not be like them.

 

I do not say these things to trivialize what you are going through. I say them as proof that anyone can overcome anything as long as they work at it. And I am sure there are plenty of members here who have their own stories of adversity where they worked hard to overcome them. Your story is not new nor it is unique but you can overcome it. Trust me when I say you can be successful, it just takes some effort. It takes work, sometimes work where you don't get paid in money but work none the less, to get ahead in life. Personally I do not know you nor do I honestly give a crap about whether you stay with her or not but at this point anything you decide to do you need to do for you, not her or anyone else. If I had not decided to do something for myself I would probably be drunk and poor living in a singlewide trying to figure out what happened to my life. Instead I worked hard and got ahead. If life were meant to be easy what fun would it be when you win at life.

 

As far as what Sam said I am not as bad off as it could have been but I am worse than it sometimes appears. I piss myself every day, it is a fact of life since my accident. I spend most days laying in bed. My wife helps me get bathed and dressed. I sometimes have to walk with crutches but I also understand it could be a lot worse. My legs randomly quit working, if I am lucky the fall is a soft one but most cases it only makes the other things worse. I am still having issues from a fall a few months ago. I had a friend out this weekend. Spent a few hours helping him out and fought every second trying not to show how bad my back was bothering me. After he left I felt a sense of relief because I could finally get off my feet and go back to bed. And the other hope was that maybe he didn't see the pain in my eyes. I spent the rest of that day and the next two days in bed. It was only yesterday that I finally was able to finally feel well enough to get out of bed. I will tell you that I do hate my crutches, hate them more than anything in this world, because they are proof I am weak and I try to avoid using them until it is unbearable. Some days that threshold is minutes and some days I might get a few hours without them but I will ALWAYS need them. You do not know pain until you have someone else put your underwear on for you. I could belly ache about all this all the time but it does not good. I have tried wallowing in my own misery and trust me when I say it doesn't help at all.

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OP, if you want my number send me a PM. You can call and vent, I won't give you advice you didn't ask for but you already got all the good advice you need. Now you just need to do something for you and if it makes you feel better you can cuss me out. Anyone, for that matter, can have my number and call me anytime but I will be selective in who I will let cuss me.

  • Like 2
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Want to hear about not awesome.

 

I was not planned and probably not wanted. Up to that point my father had been travelling and living it up until he knocked up my mother. Six months later he did the right thing by marrying her but that didn't mean he liked or even wanted me and it shows. My first memory, when I was 4 or 5, was of my drunken father laying me over the armrest of an old brown recliner as he beat me with a belt. Why was he beating me? Because I wasn't able to count to 10 in school. So he told me I had to count the hits. I would make it about 1/2 way and just to make it stop I would say 10. Then he would say it was wrong and start over. I bet I was beat for 20 minutes as I figured out how to count to 10 but it wasn't about me counting, it was about having someone to vent his rage upon because my mother had left my father a few months earlier because of his drunken, abusive antic and because he didn't have my mother to abuse anymore he took it out on me. Over the next couple of years I was beat by my father, my mother and my mother's boyfriend. And honestly those years are a blur. But I do remember being drug around by my arms, feet, hair or whatever they could grab a hold of as they beat me. A few years later my mother and father decided to get back together and that is things really got bad. I was beat with all kinds of things, daily. My father liked using unusual things to punish me and would find odd things or make things to beat me with. My mother's favorite thing to use was a straightened out metal coat hanger that she used to wail away on the backs of my legs. My father, for as long as I can remember, was ALWAYS mean to me. As I walked by he would grab the skin around my waist and twist it until it bruised. He would push me down or trip me then point and laugh. Anything I did that I was proud of he would destroy then laugh as I would cry. He would use locust limbs, with thorns, to beat me as he made me low crawl between the house and barn. And all this was before I turned 10. Oh, and my father's father was with us for a few years and he did pretty much the same thing so here I was, a 7-8 year old boy, being beat and tormented daily by those who are supposed to love and cherish me. My best memory of my childhood was waking up before they did so I could watch the Stooges without being afraid.

 

By the time I was 13-14 I was away form home a lot. I was getting drunk almost every day, being mean and fighting. But the biggest fight I had was to avoid going home because I knew the second I walked through that door I was in for a fight I could not win. The way it normally went was I would come home and my mother would lay into me, then my drunken father would start beating me and my mother would stand by and watch. My father would throw me through doors, into radiators and even loosened teeth by punching me in a drunken rage. Then my mother would come in and tell me it was all my fault that it happened. Even to this day she blamed me for when my brother tried to kill us. She said it was my fault for not giving him money for his drugs.

 

It was only after I was bigger than my father that things quit being physically abusive and things seem to settle down but I was still getting drunk all the time. They were still abusive but in a different way, they started using words and controlling behaviors. So again I would be gone with friends doing things I should not be doing. The vast majority of my childhood friends are in jail or have been in jail. And I should have been right there with them because I was drinking, fighting and just being a person no one wanted to be around. I was mean in my younger years, not just mean spirited but probably one of the meanest people I have ever met. And it is a struggle not to go back to being a mean person. And that is why I do not drink. It is because I say and do things that a normal person would not do. Most people who had an upbringing like mine do not turn out normal. I will say that I am far from normal and do have quite a few quirks and skeletons but all my adult life I have fought because I wanted to be one thing, not like my parents, and that fight goes on to this very day. There are people on the board who have seen first hand how my parents act towards me and how insane they are in their actions.

 

Something else, I do not remember my father ever saying he loved me, ever. And when I was getting ready to go overseas I went to visit him and when I tried to give him a hug goodbye he walked away and didn't say a word, no goodbye, no see you later just a cold shoulder. He cannot stand me and probably has more hatred for me today than the day my mother squirted me out. He probably sees me as the person who ruined the plans he had made for his own life. My parents have done nothing for me other than try to make my life miserable but they did do one thing, ensure I would do everything in my power to not be like them.

 

I do not say these things to trivialize what you are going through. I say them as proof that anyone can overcome anything as long as they work at it. And I am sure there are plenty of members here who have their own stories of adversity where they worked hard to overcome them. Your story is not new nor it is unique but you can overcome it. Trust me when I say you can be successful, it just takes some effort. It takes work, sometimes work where you don't get paid in money but work none the less, to get ahead in life. Personally I do not know you nor do I honestly give a crap about whether you stay with her or not but at this point anything you decide to do you need to do for you, not her or anyone else. If I had not decided to do something for myself I would probably be drunk and poor living in a singlewide trying to figure out what happened to my life. Instead I worked hard and got ahead. If life were meant to be easy what fun would it be when you win at life.

 

As far as what Sam said I am not as bad off as it could have been but I am worse than it sometimes appears. I piss myself every day, it is a fact of life since my accident. I spend most days laying in bed. My wife helps me get bathed and dressed. I sometimes have to walk with crutches but I also understand it could be a lot worse. My legs randomly quit working, if I am lucky the fall is a soft one but most cases it only makes the other things worse. I am still having issues from a fall a few months ago. I had a friend out this weekend. Spent a few hours helping him out and fought every second trying not to show how bad my back was bothering me. After he left I felt a sense of relief because I could finally get off my feet and go back to bed. And the other hope was that maybe he didn't see the pain in my eyes. I spent the rest of that day and the next two days in bed. It was only yesterday that I finally was able to finally feel well enough to get out of bed. I will tell you that I do hate my crutches, hate them more than anything in this world, because they are proof I am weak and I try to avoid using them until it is unbearable. Some days that threshold is minutes and some days I might get a few hours without them but I will ALWAYS need them. You do not know pain until you have someone else put your underwear on for you. I could belly ache about all this all the time but it does not good. I have tried wallowing in my own misery and trust me when I say it doesn't help at all.

Do we have the same parents? Then my brother called me on Father's Day and chewed me out "again" for not calling a certain person and wishing them a "Happy Father's Day". Wow, I thought I was the only one to live a hellish childhood. Sorry for your pain Gordon.

 

Dave

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That would be an ass kickin'. You're a big ole boy. :)

I hate adults that beat, (not to be construed with spanking), on children. Notice that his father stopped when Gordon got big enough to fight back? What a F'n COWARD!

 

In contrast, I remember when I was 16 years old, (I was quite larger than my father already), some of my friends were talking smack about if their dad hit them they'd kick his ass. I told them that my dad could double up his fist and punch me right in the mouth and I wouldn't strike back, because if my father did something like that I must have done something to deserve it, and I was quite serious. I had a childhood friend with and abusive, alcoholic father like Gordon's, so I know a little about what he went through.

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