brighteyesfan144
Student
- Feb 5, 2025
- 164
I had some physical issues growing up, like I could never breathe through my nose and also had phimosis. I was constantly harassed by my mom and two older sisters growing up about my nose issues, especially from ages 6-12. They were constantly telling me to leave the room to blow my nose and get very angry any time I sniffled, or ate and made a noise. Everyone wondered why I didn't have a girlfriend, but the phimosis completely stopped my ability to have sex. It didn't dawn on me that I might need surgery for these things because I was just a kid. I had virtually no relationship with my dad growing up, but I was close with my mom.
At 13 I started smoking weed with the kids in my town. I lived in the suburbs and everyone smoked, but my mom was very against it and it tore us apart. I went to a lot of raves and would take ecstasy on the weekends. She was worried I would never work because of it but I still got into uni and graduated with honours. Still, the drug use did eventually take its toll on me. I experimented with guys in uni and that affected me more than anything else. My mom always told me she just wished I was "normal" and asked why I needed to be different. I think her and my dad both secretly hated me after they found out I was gay.
When weed became legal, it got a lot stronger (I mean 8x stronger) so it was hard to control dosage and I went into a mild psychosis believing religious ideas, that people were demon-possessed, and got very involved with conspiracies. I asserted to my family that I was actually straight and that threw everyone in my life off... because I had been in the gay community for two full years at that point. My mom supported me during that time when I was in my early 20s but she was always getting me evaluated and trying to get me to talk to therapists. I really thought I was fine, but I was drinking a lot and she would tell me I wouldn't get into heaven whenever I was drunk, which made me really angry because I was very involved in the church. She was very anti-religious. One time I got so angry and blacked out while drunk; I went into her room with a weight and almost killed her. I didn't remember it. She told me about it years later.
At 24, I had been clean off drugs for enough time that I became very successful running my own company. A year later COVID hit and my psychosis returned, and I believed my family were going to slowly turn into demons after taking the vaccine. I moved out in actual fear with barely anything except for my truck. I got kicked out of the first apartment because my roommates thought I was schizophrenic, and then I moved to Toronto. I lived on my own running my company for a few years, but the whole time I was in an apocalyptic cult with people I had met at a protest. I didn't talk to any of my family members for 3 years.
Despite how it sounds, I was genuinely happy during this time. My business was thriving, I had my own apartment that I slowly furnished and it was beautiful. I showed no signs of psychosis. I actually started to let go of the apocalyptic cult and thought the world might not end after all. I was finally becoming the "normal person" my mother wanted me to be. At that point, my family missed me and I would be harassed by phone calls... I changed my number several times but usually someone from the family would get their hands on it and I would be harassed again. Eventually I caved and let them back in.
At first she was peaceful, but eventually I realized why I left. Living in that house was terrible for my mental health. She is extremely smug, dismissive, belittling and, well, abusive towards me. The more she got in my head, the more the nightmares I would have about wanting to kill her came back. I started to think the world was ending again. I fully cracked. At 27, I shut down my company, stopped renting my apartment, and moved into the forest.
I realized quickly that I couldn't live in the forest forever and I suggested that I stay with my grandmother (mom's side) because she is almost 90 and no one is taking care of her. My parents agreed and I moved in with her. But then my grandma fell and went to a nursing home, and I was living in the house alone. I lived there alone without a job for just under a year, squandered all of my savings, and went into debt. I think it was worth it because during that time I fully came to terms with my mental health and even thought I might start a new business actually related to my degree, to help people with psychology.
I finally got a job as an office manager which my mom was ecstatic about, but my managers were tyrants and when I made a joke about probably being autistic, they fired me almost immediately. Then, I worked as a construction worker and was sexually harassed and filed a lawsuit. Then, I got scammed working as a driver for an American company. Then I quit my next job because they asked me to work a 20-hour shift.
Despite the job losses, I was starting to enjoy my life again and regain the free spirit that I had before I turned 17. I needed to. It's hard to explain but I believe my early childhood familial abuse, being the youngest boy in a house of dominant women who bullied me turned me into a masochist, constantly on my knees sucking men off from 17-19 and then on my knees praying to Jesus for the next 7 years after, and I was finally getting past all of that. I needed to enjoy my life.
Years prior I fell in love with a girl who never gave me a chance, but when she saw me clean and sober, finally a full-grown man, we fell in love. She moved into my grandmother's house and we lived like a married couple, and it was like a dream I never could have imagined. To me, the job losses weren't my fault so I felt no guilt, but my family didn't see it that way and thought of me as a freeloading bum. My girlfriend and I drank and smoked weed in that house a lot, and they knew. They told me they were selling the house.
I was writing a psychology book and getting in touch with psychiatrists who were against the use of antipsychotics like I was, and I would go to the US to meet with them at conferences. I was making a lot of progress in my career. But alas, the date rolled around when me and my girlfriend would be evicted, and when they came, I wasn't packed. I felt like Cinderella while my two evil sisters and mother haphazardly stuffed all my things in suitcases and kicked us out. This was also the week my grandfather died and my girlfriend attempted suicide (we had broken up briefly when this happened because she was doing cocaine behind my back) and I was in a really bad place during that time. They said I couldn't come home and though I thought I could stay with my other grandmother, my parents warned me not to ask. I had just gotten my sixth job of the year, the one I knew would work out and seemingly did as I still work as the manager of that company today, but no one saw it that way. I was a scrub to them. They had also thrown away a USB-stick which had maybe hundreds of hours of work on it that I had been doing in that house, so it really devastated me. I lost everything that day. My girlfriend moved, I couldn't take any of my furniture, my whole family hated me, I had barely any money. With nowhere to live, it was getting hard to explain to my company and I almost lost my new job because of it.
That's when I found Sanctioned Suicide. My mom was perfectly okay with me sleeping in a forest, and I could never forgive her for that. I eventually caved and called my grandmother and she let me stay with her for a few weeks, then helped me out with first and last for a new apartment. This was months ago.
I haven't talked to her since, and I probably never will. They won't help me at all if I don't have money for food, which is impossible for them to fathom if I have a job, but life is very expensive and I am starting all over. I've never starved but my bank account is very low and I could end up homeless again. My sister had kids and they said I can't come home because the kids are there. It's a really sad situation. I think through all of this, my mom just doesn't know me anymore. My dad never really did. I am a complete stranger to my family.
At 13 I started smoking weed with the kids in my town. I lived in the suburbs and everyone smoked, but my mom was very against it and it tore us apart. I went to a lot of raves and would take ecstasy on the weekends. She was worried I would never work because of it but I still got into uni and graduated with honours. Still, the drug use did eventually take its toll on me. I experimented with guys in uni and that affected me more than anything else. My mom always told me she just wished I was "normal" and asked why I needed to be different. I think her and my dad both secretly hated me after they found out I was gay.
When weed became legal, it got a lot stronger (I mean 8x stronger) so it was hard to control dosage and I went into a mild psychosis believing religious ideas, that people were demon-possessed, and got very involved with conspiracies. I asserted to my family that I was actually straight and that threw everyone in my life off... because I had been in the gay community for two full years at that point. My mom supported me during that time when I was in my early 20s but she was always getting me evaluated and trying to get me to talk to therapists. I really thought I was fine, but I was drinking a lot and she would tell me I wouldn't get into heaven whenever I was drunk, which made me really angry because I was very involved in the church. She was very anti-religious. One time I got so angry and blacked out while drunk; I went into her room with a weight and almost killed her. I didn't remember it. She told me about it years later.
At 24, I had been clean off drugs for enough time that I became very successful running my own company. A year later COVID hit and my psychosis returned, and I believed my family were going to slowly turn into demons after taking the vaccine. I moved out in actual fear with barely anything except for my truck. I got kicked out of the first apartment because my roommates thought I was schizophrenic, and then I moved to Toronto. I lived on my own running my company for a few years, but the whole time I was in an apocalyptic cult with people I had met at a protest. I didn't talk to any of my family members for 3 years.
Despite how it sounds, I was genuinely happy during this time. My business was thriving, I had my own apartment that I slowly furnished and it was beautiful. I showed no signs of psychosis. I actually started to let go of the apocalyptic cult and thought the world might not end after all. I was finally becoming the "normal person" my mother wanted me to be. At that point, my family missed me and I would be harassed by phone calls... I changed my number several times but usually someone from the family would get their hands on it and I would be harassed again. Eventually I caved and let them back in.
At first she was peaceful, but eventually I realized why I left. Living in that house was terrible for my mental health. She is extremely smug, dismissive, belittling and, well, abusive towards me. The more she got in my head, the more the nightmares I would have about wanting to kill her came back. I started to think the world was ending again. I fully cracked. At 27, I shut down my company, stopped renting my apartment, and moved into the forest.
I realized quickly that I couldn't live in the forest forever and I suggested that I stay with my grandmother (mom's side) because she is almost 90 and no one is taking care of her. My parents agreed and I moved in with her. But then my grandma fell and went to a nursing home, and I was living in the house alone. I lived there alone without a job for just under a year, squandered all of my savings, and went into debt. I think it was worth it because during that time I fully came to terms with my mental health and even thought I might start a new business actually related to my degree, to help people with psychology.
I finally got a job as an office manager which my mom was ecstatic about, but my managers were tyrants and when I made a joke about probably being autistic, they fired me almost immediately. Then, I worked as a construction worker and was sexually harassed and filed a lawsuit. Then, I got scammed working as a driver for an American company. Then I quit my next job because they asked me to work a 20-hour shift.
Despite the job losses, I was starting to enjoy my life again and regain the free spirit that I had before I turned 17. I needed to. It's hard to explain but I believe my early childhood familial abuse, being the youngest boy in a house of dominant women who bullied me turned me into a masochist, constantly on my knees sucking men off from 17-19 and then on my knees praying to Jesus for the next 7 years after, and I was finally getting past all of that. I needed to enjoy my life.
Years prior I fell in love with a girl who never gave me a chance, but when she saw me clean and sober, finally a full-grown man, we fell in love. She moved into my grandmother's house and we lived like a married couple, and it was like a dream I never could have imagined. To me, the job losses weren't my fault so I felt no guilt, but my family didn't see it that way and thought of me as a freeloading bum. My girlfriend and I drank and smoked weed in that house a lot, and they knew. They told me they were selling the house.
I was writing a psychology book and getting in touch with psychiatrists who were against the use of antipsychotics like I was, and I would go to the US to meet with them at conferences. I was making a lot of progress in my career. But alas, the date rolled around when me and my girlfriend would be evicted, and when they came, I wasn't packed. I felt like Cinderella while my two evil sisters and mother haphazardly stuffed all my things in suitcases and kicked us out. This was also the week my grandfather died and my girlfriend attempted suicide (we had broken up briefly when this happened because she was doing cocaine behind my back) and I was in a really bad place during that time. They said I couldn't come home and though I thought I could stay with my other grandmother, my parents warned me not to ask. I had just gotten my sixth job of the year, the one I knew would work out and seemingly did as I still work as the manager of that company today, but no one saw it that way. I was a scrub to them. They had also thrown away a USB-stick which had maybe hundreds of hours of work on it that I had been doing in that house, so it really devastated me. I lost everything that day. My girlfriend moved, I couldn't take any of my furniture, my whole family hated me, I had barely any money. With nowhere to live, it was getting hard to explain to my company and I almost lost my new job because of it.
That's when I found Sanctioned Suicide. My mom was perfectly okay with me sleeping in a forest, and I could never forgive her for that. I eventually caved and called my grandmother and she let me stay with her for a few weeks, then helped me out with first and last for a new apartment. This was months ago.
I haven't talked to her since, and I probably never will. They won't help me at all if I don't have money for food, which is impossible for them to fathom if I have a job, but life is very expensive and I am starting all over. I've never starved but my bank account is very low and I could end up homeless again. My sister had kids and they said I can't come home because the kids are there. It's a really sad situation. I think through all of this, my mom just doesn't know me anymore. My dad never really did. I am a complete stranger to my family.
