This is going to be one of the harder parts to write about as it involves me talking about something that will perhaps stigmatize me even in the eyes of the LGBT community. The shame and instant judgement others openly and secretly pass upon me when I mention this time of my life.

The strange thing is, I remember the summer of `73 as being one of the best summers ever, the weather, the music the long weekends at the Jersey beaches. How did it come to this? The stark austerity of the cold November weather perfectly reflected the emptiness of my soul.

Before I could get the tub to move more than a few inches my Aunt came running out screaming for me to stop and take that rope off... She was fast for a woman in her 70's she had crossed the porch and down the steps and across the yard. She pulled the noose from me and dragged me inside my feet barely touching the ground.

I was sent to bed, and I really don't remember the next few days, what my parents had said when they were told of my attempt or what they had even said to me. I do remember being sent to a different shrink for a while, but all I can remember was the lighted globe of the moon he had.

The winter passed and I was still in the 4th grade and the spring had started up and this young mans fancy had turned to masturbation in panties, the usual source was my Sister's or my Mom's. I had also had become adept at shoplifting the occaisional pair when we went shopping. Being small and skinny I discovered I could slip into the middle of the clothes racks and pick out what ever I happened to fancy. And as a matter of course I would get caught once again, this time my Sister and her curiosity to peek down the back of my pants one rainy april Saturday afternoon. I had picked out a pair of beige Charmeuse briefs to wear under my pants. I was not aware that they had ridden up and now she could see them. She made a big deal out of telling on me and I got my usual spanking and screaming at.

I was pretty terrified of my Father and for a week I stayed out of his way. The following Saturday was sunny and cool I awoke with a sadness so profound I couldn't stand it. This time I told myself I would be successful in ending my life. I pulled a pair of panties from a hiding spot and put them on, I felt a little better but I was determined. After breakfast my Dad had gone out somewhere, my Sister had planted herself in front of the TV with her toy horses. My mother busied herself with the Saturday laundry. I slipped outside and found a nice piece of rope in one of my Dad's boats, I found the old tub and stepped onto it and began fastening the rope to the branch and fixing the noose. My Mother was out the back door like a shot and once again I found myself in my room waiting for my Dad to get home.

I didn't have long to wait, I was called downstairs and stopped at the top of the last 3 steps as he actually lunged at me. He screamed " Do you want to die? Do you want to see what its like to hang yourself?" He had tripled up the rope and placed it with force against my throat. Indeed he had given me a taste of death, my father was choking the life out of me, I actually saw stars and things went yellow then briefly black. He released the pressure only at my Mothers pleading. Not once had he ever apologized for for nealy killing me.

I was also given a preview to the end of the era of spanking and one of beating. I still remember that pompous douche giving me the whole "Well spankings do not seem to be working so now I will be beating you!" speech. Since that exact point he pemanently cemented my firmest belief that all authority was full of crap.

I knew what was best for me and I was determined to find a way to get what I want. My time at home with my family was soon to be cut short. One day at school I was being bullied a little more than usual, I lashed out and fought back. I had bloodied the boys who were teasing me well and nearly given one a concussion. I was sent to yet another shrink this time the school one, no help to be had there. I was returned back to class a few weeks later, it was during this time I had gotten in the habit of just staying after school, basically afraid to go home It was here I developed a talent for art and drawing. I happily spent the time lost in my art and my own comics, one afternoon I had stayed exceptionally late. I was supposed to go straight to my Dad's mothers house, about a block away.

My dad showed up at the school at 4:30 all angry, as we were supposed to leave on a family camping trip to Williamsburg VA. Were were driving down the street as he continued to berate me, he finally got to the point and asked me "Just what exactly were you doing there all this time?"

I proudly showed him the picture of a tidal backwater I drew from memory complete with vacation housing, boats and docks in great detail and perspective. "This?" he shouted as he ripped it from my small hands "This... this GARBAGE?" with that he actually threw it out the window of the car.

I had never been so hurt in my young life and my hatred for my dad was off to a great start.

The vacation went off without a hitch as I was kept busy with fossil hunting and American history lessons. We had only been back a few days when I was taken one morning to see what I thought was a new doctor. It was at what I thought was a regular hospital. I could see its huge water tower from my bedroom window, and from just about anywhere in town.

What I didn't know was this was an evaluation and after talking to the shrink there who oddly enough had a toy gallows on his desk. I was taken to another building and this time to a basement room with some toys, a long table, some furniture and some books.

This was an intake evaluation, and all I cared about was pointing out the microphone hanging from the ceiling and the funny mirror on set in the wall like a window which I was certain was a one-way mirror. The meeting was soon over and I was shown the people in the other room by a rather sheepishly embarrased Ph.D. I know they had to see I was very smart but troubled and I felt certain that they knew my Father was the source of the problems. We returned home and a few days had gone by when one cloudy morning after I had gotten up and had breakfast my Parents said we were going out for a ride. We got into the car and headed out and soon we were on the grounds of the State Hospital. We drove through most of the property until we crested a hill and pulled up to a modern single story building. We got out and we went inside, I still suspected nothing as we were given a tour. Except for the Aides and the smell of lunch the place was eerily empty of patients. We walked down a great central hall and a set of steps to the north wing. It was there I was met by some Aides and was then told I would not be leaving with my family. I was in shock and was too stunned to react as i watch them walk away. I wanted to cry but I could not, instead I became angry, I walked out some side doors on the north wing and out into the humid but chilly morning. I was immeadiately set up by a boy who tried to bully me. I ran back up to the doors but they were locked. So I grabbed the nearest item to defend myself, a mop and proceeded to beat this kid senseless before the Aides could stop me. I quickly found myself in a rubber room with nothing but a bare stained matress.

I had been given a shot of Melaril and was woozy and disoriented so I just laid down and cried myself to sleep..... Stay tuned for the next installment "This is a Madhouse! A Madhouse!"