Who are you? The biography thread

[sarajean]

**bump**

born 1979 outside of san diego, ca. parents divorced when i was a year old, and my mom took off, so it was just me and my da until he re-married in 1987. the woman he married (who he now refers to as "hagus maximus") was an abusive bitch, so in 1989, i moved to montana to live with my mom and her then husband. he turned out to be an abusive asshole. she finally left him in 1993, and i stayed with her until 1996. at that point, my dad divorced ms maximus and i returned to cali to live with him. spent senior year going to at least 5 shows a week, rarely paying to get in. graduated from high school in 1997, spent a brief amount of time at a graphic arts school, but developed pneumonia and had to drop out. summer 1998, i met jeff and we got married that hallowe'en. following september drake was born. jeff got hurt at work in april 2000, so i had to go back to work. spent the next 7 years steadily advancing in position at a major wireless company until they decided to let me go for "sending personal emails" from my work station. (my manager at the time told me that it was really because i was considered a "rabble-rouser" by upper management) found another job at a local hotel, and was moving up the chain there until our move last week to NC.

that's the abridged version. perhaps i'll go more into detail another time.

[Cort]

Hi, i was born in 1981 outside a small town in northern ireland (pop 35,000) i lived with my family(2 younger brothers,1 sis also younger) in a rural area where not much happened and i was the cause of some distress to alot of the people as i have always been quite mischievous. I attended high school untill i took my GCSE's in '97 and did quite well in english,history and science.

I started working the day after my final exam and since then have worked as many things,im good with my hands so never have too much trouble picking up new job-related skills. From the ages 16-19 i chased girls,drank and tried to have as good a time as i could, on 17 of march 2000 the good times ended. I was taking part in a riot (very bad, i know) and 5 policemen who were trying to arrest me broke my leg...no more being bad since then.

At 21 i moved in with my girlfriend and a year later we had a daughter (now 6) we lived together 'till last year when she dumped my and after 10 years absence i came back home to my parents,

[mia/susannah]

Alright, I will try this.

I was born in 1967 in PaloAlto, California. When I was 2 weeks old, my parents moved back to Waycross Georgia, I have 2 brothers and 1 sister all older than me. When I was 6 months old, my birth mother left my dad with the 4 of us to be with another man and she did not want us children any ways. Those are her words to me when I met her at 15. Never saw her again. Anyways, my dad married my mom, the one that raised the 4 of us, in 1970. They have been married ever since.

I attended Wacona Elementary in Waycross Ga, junior high school in waycross as well. Then moved to Sylvester Ga and finished high school at Worth Co. High. I worked full time while in high school so my grades were ok but not great, but had to help support family.

I married my ex-husband in 1989 and gave birth to Mandi, my oldest in 1990, in 1993, moved to Catskill New York, Catherine was born in 1994, Carolann was born in 1995 and Miranda was born and died in 1997.

I left my ex-husband in 1998, and finally obtained my divorce because he went to prison for a couple of years. He fought me until that happened.

I still line in Catskill with SO Richard, plan to move back to Georgia after youngest graduates high school. In about another 6 years.

That is pretty much my boring life story. The only friends I have are on this site because I am not social. I love you guys.

[Dave!]

Wow. Thanks for sharing your stories, guys. And remember that no matter how bad you think your life was, or is, there are always people out there who have it so much worse. I find this to be true all of the time. I am not a pessimist by nature, far from it, but when I think that times in my life have sucked majorly I meet someone or hear a tale that makes my life seem pretty damned good. So here is some of it, as all of it might take a while:

Born in November 1975 to a 16 yr old lost young girl who thought her older boyfriend was good for her until he forced himself on to her and I was conceived. So I was born 2 months early and spent the 1st month in the ICU where I lost down to just over a pound. I had a 10% chance of survival. 1st time I cheated death. (and every time this happened it wasn't due to me at all, but the grace of God)
So mom found her future husband and the only man I would ever know of as "dad". in '78. They married and we moved to Texas until about '83. The memories I do have of it are good, as country as it gets, and slow and easy life. Even though we were poor as dirt it really didn't seem to hit me much as a kid. Belynda was born in 1980, my first lil' sis. Then Trish came along in the summer of '81. Those two were my best friends and best friends to each otehr throughout their childhood and teenage years. It ws cool to see sisters so close, but I still wanted a brother.
So we moved to NC for my 2nd grade year. School was ok. I went into the AG classes, and they wanted to move me up to the fifth grade but mom and dad said no. Probably for the best as I would have been picked on mercilessly if I had gone. School was, well, school. I gained weight in about the fifth grade and was picked on because of it. And my parents never would let me join in any sports to work it off because it was inconvienient for them. So we moved again, for whatever reason, a few counties away. And this would be the place where I had a new start. And my older cousin went to the same schools, so he and I became really good friends.
I started working out as much as I could at home with the cheap plastic-coated concrete weight set, trying to turn some fat into muscle. And it worked quite a bit. By 7th grade I wasn't fat anymore and actually got to play football one year. But dad put a top to that. I forgot to mention that I was beaten every time I had a report card that reflected anything other than mostly "A's". Some "B's" were ok, but nothing less than that. Anything less and I was beaten until I simply couldn't stand any longer. And Dad worked on an "away-crew" which meant he was home every other weekend. So for two or three days a month I was terrified about what would happen or what I would do wrong. There finally came a time where I would be beaten because of nothing. His reasoning was "Well, I know you've probably done something to deserve it even if I don't know what it is."
So we flash to 1990 or so. Dad has an "accident" at work and hurts his back to the point he can no longer work. So he is home every day. Mom has to support the family so she does all she knows to do in a quick way. She goes to truck driving school, just as her father had done. So she is now the one home for a day or two at a time. Dad spends his days drinking and watching re-runs of Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and what-have-you. And listening to drinking country songs at an annoying and scary volume. Eventually he drinks and stares at the snow on the TV that you get when you tune in a channel with nothing there. So I do the selfish thing and find every reason in the world not to be home. I have a good close knit group of supportive friends. Good guys, every one of 'em. And I take my first drink at 16. And then I proceed to have two lives. One is the A-B student, and the other is the kid that is lost, drinking and finding petty mischief to get into. And fishing. Fishing was the one release that I had just to myself. Me, either alone or with a few close friends, the water, and nothing else. I think it is what kept me sane and non-postal. :-)
But I also forgot to mention several things about dad. He, for one, was a conspiracy nut. He always thought the govt. was going to enslave us one day, and the world would be like it was on the Terminator movies. So early on he introduced the art of warfare onto me. I was taught to shoot accurately at an early age with both handguns and rifles. And by rifles I mean AK-47's, Sks's, M-16's and Uzi's. Some fully auto. We lived poor back then, and I was too young to make the connection. These types of mini-arsenals are not cheap. They were all the real deal brand name guns. And he had armor-piercing rounds, just in case. And he was racist. Bad racist. We were not allowed to watch the Cosby show because it showed "uppity blacks(his actual term I will not use here)" that didn't exist in real life. All minorities were leaches on the white American system and way of life, according to dad. So time marches on.
I come home one day from school alone. My sisters are at school watching a basketball game and I was supposed to go back and get them later. I walk in and the house is full of smoke. The TV is blaring static. Dad is at the kitchen sink washing dishes with a smoldering pan of grease merely a foot or so from him and he fails to notice that the empty pan is minutes if not seconds away from a full out blaze. I come in and ask "Dad, what's going on?" Then all hell breaks loose and the levees break.

He takes a glass plate and throws it at me, and it shatters on the wall behind me. Then he is flinging more dishes as he closes the distance between us eerily fast for a large (6-4, 300 pound) and supposedly "disabled" guy. Then he is on me and picks me up with one arm, his hand around my throat. I was 5-10 and about 160 or so at the time. His eyes are huge and crazy. He had spit oozing from his mouth and he is simply screaming in my face words I don't understand. I look back and realize that they were just simply sounds of rage and insanity now, nothing human about them. He then begins to punch me, breaking my nose. I try to fight back some and he throws me against the wall so hard that I go through the wall, taking sheetrock and splintered 2X4's with me. It is like something in a movie, something that you wouldn't think possible in real life. Then he is back on me again, punching and choking. We somehow manage to get back into the kitchen where I find my feet and duck a punch. His hand goes through the window and he opens up several arteries in his hand. So spouting blood he continues to come at me until somehow I convince him to look at his wounds. I can't remember exactly when his eyes cleared and he noticed, but he did. So I convinced him to go to the bathroom and wash it off so we can stop the bleeding. As he did so I went for the shotgun I knew was under his bed. And met him coming back down the hallway. He had the same crazy look again and was in the process of tearing the bathroom door off of the hinges when he looked up and saw me pointing the gun at his head. I remember telling him that I was going to back out the door and leave, and get my sisters. And that he had best not come to find us. So i did.
As I jumped into the car and began to drive up the driveway to the main road he appeared in the doorway with his AK and began shooting at the car. I am thankful that there wasn't the normal heavy traffic volume at the main road because I didn't stop to check. I slid sideways onto the pavement and was gone to the school. We stayed with my aunt and uncle on mom's side for two days. I got word to mom to not go home, but to come to granny's. And that is where we went.
Everyone was terrified. We knew he would come, just not when. Granny had a small revolver that she gave me. I can't remember but I think it was a .22 caliber. But it was the second gun I would pull on him, and the last.
He showed up at granny's. He walked to the front door with his AK in one hand and I mae everyone get under the beds as I opened the front door and pointed the pistol at his forehead.
I told him that he needed to leave, go back to Texas, or whatever, but he would do it alone, and he would not get my sisters.
He informed me that those were HIS daughters and he wasn't leaving without them, even if it meant killing me to get them. I remember pulling back the hammer and re-alighning my shot. There again, something that you see in movies and never think it goes down like that in real life.
He stops and I see his hand clenching and relaxing on the AK. I tell him not to raise it because I would shoot him in the head before he could get it up and fire. We looked at each other for a long time in silence when he asked me
"So you would shoot your own dad in the face, then?"
I replied that I would without any hesitation, pretty much.
He looked at me, then the pistol, then me again. And then he simply walked back to his car and drove off.
Mom got home right after, and the police and ATF got involved. He was taken away, charged with a lot of stuff, including posessing illegal firearms, unregistered firearms, and the kicker: possession of weapons of mass destruction. Yeah. He had live grenades. Some buried, some in the closet. And he was in the process of wiring up explosives to the house. Turns out his intention was to blow all of us and the house up to avoid "The reckoning of Armageddon" Sends a chill down my spine even today.
Apparently he posted bond with the help of his brother from Texas. And apparently he had tens of thousands of dollars buried under the house to aid in the bond. He left for Texas where he subsequently robbed a bank and was caught. He is now serving in a FEDERAL PEN. He is 56 now and I seriously doubt that he will see the free world again. I've seen him twice since. And probably will never go back to see him. My sister still has nightmares about him getting out and finding her and her family. So, second time I cheated death? Yeah, Probably. Had a guardian angel during those days.
I got full custody of my youngest sister, Trish. I was married in '94 and she came to live with us in '95, a kid on the wrong path. She was on the verge of being sent to a girl's reform school for "gang" activity and a general shitty attitude. I raised her until she was a senior, and then she left for Texas to be with her friends and all. And to graduate with them. So then I got a call one night at some ealry hour. And the calls you get at that time are never good.
I tried to get my other sister, Belynda, to come live with us as well. She was working a dead-end job trying to get through nursing school. And she lived in a really old and delapidated rental trailer. And had a very bad-news boyfriend at the time. But she didn't. I keep looking back and wondering if I could have said or done something to convince her. But she wanted to be an adult and be independant.
But the call came from Trish. Belynda was dead. The HP had called her, as hers was the only number they had. And she called me from a thousand miles away to tell me my sister was lying dead in the next county. So we made the phone calls.
Apparently her boyfriend was hopped up and drove them straight off of the road and into a culvert. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He walked away from the crash, as did the other two in the car. I would have to say that these two instances are the two defining moments of my life. I had to grow up and get responsible instantly with the situation with Dad. I became a different person after my sister's death as well. I remember praying for God to help me not do anything stupid. I had the chance and opportunity to take her boyfriend out of this world, but didn't because I thought of dad. And prison. And the fact that my wife was 6 months pregnant with a son that would never know me if I did anything at that moment. So I left it up to God and fate to handle and walked away. And am thankful to this day that I made that choice. There is more, mostly happier stuff, but I'm gonna go for now. Feeling lil weak. Just got out of the hospital yesterday after getting my ruptured appendix removed. *sigh* Anyways, there that is. Condensed, and to the best of my recollection. I don't remember a lot of my childhood, but some things are crystal clear.

[sarajean]

wow, dave. thank you for sharing.

[Woofer]

Yes, thank you - all of you.

[mia/susannah]

dave, thanks for sharing. I know that must have been hard. I am so sorry about what you and your sisters went through and escpecially the death of your sister!!

[Jean]

Dave:

[alinda]

Oh my , that sounds so horrible, and yet thank you for sharing it. Your strength of character is amazing Dave, and I am proud of the choice that you made to finally walk away, thus ending a cycle of abuse for your family. (((hugs))) Bless you my friend.

[Iwritecode]

Wow, after reading some of these I've lived a pretty uneventful life.

I was born in Rockford IL on Oct 21,1977. Two days after I was born, I was at my grandparents house for my uncle's 1st birthday. No brothers or sisters. Just one half-brother (that's legally my uncle, but that's another story) that lived a few hours away with one of my other grandmas.

In started kindergarten when I was only 4 because the girl a few houses down from me was starting that year as well. So I ended up graduating when I was 17 and was, as far as I know, the 3rd youngest in my class.

I met my best friend when we were in 2nd grade and have been friends ever since.

I met my wife at a school football game when I was a junior and she was a sophmore. We've been together (with a couple of break-ups in between) since.

We had our first daughter in August 1996. Just a couple of months after my wife graduated HS and just before I started working on my Associate's degree. We had our second daughter in December of 1997.

I became a computer programmer and then finished my degree six months later.

We started planning our wedding in 1998, bought a house and then got married in August of 1999. We set a record among our married friends by having 14 people in our bridal party. 7 on each side including both our daughters.

We finally had our third and final daughter in 2001. We didn't get the boy we wanted but she's my little tomboy. She loves bowling and playing softball just like me when I was growing up. Although she does have a pink bowling ball, pink batting helmet, a pink baseball bat and a pink glove.

You'll notice we did the whole "go to college, get a career, buy a house, have kids" completely backwards...

That's pretty much my life story.

[AlishaRiley]

Although I'm terrible at this, I figured I could have a go. Be warned, I'm abysmal at sharing myself.

Well, I was born in Liverpool, November 30th 1990 - and have lived in 13 houses since that day. I was born amongst my mum, my father, and my big brother, who I adore more than life itself. At 5, I was diagnosed with epilepsy, which caused my biological dad to piss off and escape his responsibilities. My first fit was in the school dinner hall, which was awesome... and merited me the status of a freak for the whole time I was there. I was pretty much an outcast, and developed to be a pretty fucked up kid, I guess.
At 8, my mum, my brother and I moved to The Isle Of Man to be with some guy my mum had met years before...we lived in a hovel of a flat for the first year, with this guy's mum. Yes, his mum...one day, we got back from visiting the grandparents in liverpool to find the locks had been changed, and we were rather fucked.
We stayed in the worst hotel you could possibly imagine, and by this point, my mum was pregnant with my sister, Molly. We stayed in this "hotel" for 6 months, although my recollections of this time are pretty hazy, I do recall it being completely abysmal.
After this, we found a house to live in, which was pretty nice as far as I can remember. It was also this time in which I began to hate my "step father". My brother and I had to move school, once more, our 3rd in our relatively short lives, to a place which was pretty horrendous. Again, I was an outcast, because not only was I a "spaz", I was the new girl, which was a curse in itself.
I finally managed to make a friend, which was awesome. Unfortunately, shit happens...and this is a story I shall save for another time.
After this, I saw myself as alone, I guess. I befriended a middle-aged woman who lived in the same area as us, and the single joy I got from The Isle Of Man was exploring all of the beautiful places with her, and her two dogs.
Again, unfortunately, that didn't end too well - I was pushed from this odd, i admit, friendship by the woman that even now, haunts my nightmares. I'm guessing she was insane and ill, bed-bound, at least. But although terrifying, she fascinated me, and probably always will. The only way I can picture her now, is as Zelda, from Pet Sematary, which is one reason why i have voted for that as the most terrifying published SK book.
Aaaanywayyy, before returning to Liverpool, I was forced to undergo counselling, which didn't work in the slightest. My reluctance to attend the few sessions I did was probably the cause of this.
Then, back to Liverpool, and into another new school - which may have been the worst of all, in some ways. I went off the rails a little, and turned into a complete monster, bagging myself what my mum persuaded me was a criminal record (I later found out, only a couple of years ago, that it was merely a warning...)
And then, another school. The best of all, I'll say - I made my first real friends, and eventually started to find myself a little more. Everything was actually peachy keen.
High school started off with the usual bullies, silly people - but I had developed a sense of humour by this point, and figured the best thing to do was to take the piss out of myself, rather than allowing others to get there first. People noticed this, and I guess I got pretty popular. My sense of humour is what has saved me from many low situations since then, and I thank the powers that be for it.
A lot of shit happened in high school, and I experienced some of the lowest points of my little life there, but overall, it was okay. I met my hero there, at least. My art teacher, Mr Bowen, who was later to take us to Amsterdam, and actually PAY for my best friend to go there. He's the most amazing man alive, in my humble opinion, and I shall stand by that for as long as I live. I also met my best friend, Lauren, who remains my best friend to this day, and hopefully for as long as we live.
College came along, and I fucked the first year up. Big time. Although accomplished something at least - I met a girl called Jade, who is now my girlfriend of 15 months.
And now I'm here. Studying psychology, English language and literature, and media studies in the same college, after them giving me a second chance, due to my intellectual prowess. I'm not much sure on what else I can say, to be honest, and I don't think there's much more I could happily talk about - so I'll leave it here.

Very shortened down for your own sakes. and not all that great, but hey, it's me, and now you know something, at least.

[AlishaRiley]

jesus, i didn't realise how much i'd written...sorry guys.

[Jon]

<---- will answer when less sober.

[mia/susannah]

Alisha, I enjoyed reading your story. I changed schools quite often and was the outcast as well. But that was my choosing. I am happy to know that you are happy, have a great girlfriend, best ffriend and most of all, you are getting a college education. My hat is tipped off to you.!!!

[Woofer]

Alisha I understand. I went to 7 different schools from grades 1-7, and I've lived in 15 different dwellings (of course I had a lot more years to squeeze those in and that's enough about age).

{related aside}This thread reminds me of Peanuts strip where Linus bugged Lucy to read him a book until she did. What she read was "A man was born. He lived. He died. The end." Linus said "Really makes you wish you'd known the guy." Or something like that.
{/related aside}