Blackangel

I don't value human life at all. Not even my own. It means nothing to me. I value nonhuman life. Be it a reptile, fish, amphibian, bird, or mammal. As long as it's not human. Why? Partially, because they are honest. They don't lie to you for personal gain. You can trust them to be honest. Their instinct is what guides them. With humans, it's the opposite. What guides us is greed. Everyone is always chasing the almighty dollar. Some just want to get by having what they need, and maybe a couple luxuries. Others want a solid gold toilet. Nonhuman beings, don't care about such things. They want food, water, and shelter. They want to live their lives. Lions don't kill elephants for their tusks. Gorillas don't kill tigers for their hides. How often do you see a dog get drunk and beat a cat for fun? How often do you see a cat starve a human just because they don't feel like feeding it? Humans are a virus on this planet. Yeah, there are about 5 or 6 people left that have a heart of gold. But the rest want to cut that person open to steal that gold. Do you want to see unconditional love? Look into a dogs eyes. My pitbull is a rescue. When I look into her eyes, all I see is love. When I look into a humans eyes, I see suspicion. Animosity. Bigotry. Does a falcon hate a hyena just because it's not a falcon? Does a Dalmatian hate a beagle just because it's not a Dalmatian? No. Does one human ethnicity hate another because it's not their ethnicity? Ask the Klan. Humans need classes that are taught by nonhumans. And these classes are needed now. I see no hope for the human race. Their screwed up thinking is their undoing. The population of Tartarus (Hell) is growing exponentially. The Aleutian Fields (Heaven)? Virtually empty. The human species is a disgrace due to all the crap it does. The love of a pet is unconditional. They will always love you, as long as you don't mistreat them. Humans on the other hand? They don't love you if it's not convenient for them. If I had to choose between spending the rest of my life alone with only nonhuman lives for company, or being the most popular person on earth, I would choose the solitary with animals. I love them. Some love me. Most I haven't met. But I still love them. My neighbors? I couldn't care less about them if I tried. And people wonder why I'm a loner.

True, but when your life is saved by a wild rat, they cease to be pests anymore.

I can't say on guinea pigs, because I've never had one, and have never really looked into their care requirements. Mice are pretty close to being identical to rats in their care. Like rats, they need mouse food, not food for other rodents. There are several rodent species that have specific requirements for their metabolism, and need a specifically formulated diet. Rats being one. The most popular rodents people keep as pets are guinea pigs, hamsters, and gerbils. A large number of people are still creeped out by mice and rats, even if they have other rodent species. I knew a woman who bred hamsters, but freaked at the sight of a rat or mouse. It's a psychological thing. Most likely a phobia. A friend who has become family of mine hates rats. He has a severe phobia of them. I don't know if it's something that is just part of his psyche or if he had a traumatic experience as a child, and I'm not about to ask. It's not my place to ask such a question. If he wants me to know he'll tell me. As for their habitat, if you want to go with a wire cage that's a "rat city" like I have for mine ABSOLUTELY DO NOT GET ONE WITH THE BARS SPACED OVER ½ INCH. If you do, they WILL escape. Then you will spend the next 2½ hours moving furniture all over and chasing the damn rat all over the room trying to catch it. And if it's one that bites, like one of mine, you're pretty much screwed. Thankfully that wasn't the one that escaped, before I wised up. Wiley little critters. Sometimes a major pain in the butt too. As for the pics, no, I didn't take them. They were just some of the absolute best ones I found on a google search for this blog post.

PART 1 - CHOOSING YOUR RAT You need to decide first off whether you want them to breed or not. If you don't want them breeding then you need to choose only one sex. Either male or female. Both genders typically get along well with each other, but there is always a hierarchy. One rat will be dominant. They will "battle" for dominance, but it is almost never true violence. They tend to wrestle or box more. Once you decide on your sex, decide how many you want. Rats are social animals and will not survive alone. I highly recommend a minimum of 4 rats. The more rats you get the better their health will be. Both physically, and mentally. They need the companionship of other rats to survive. DO NOT GET YOUR RATS FROM A PET STORE THAT SELLS THEM AS FEEDER RATS! Those rats are typically sick and not cared for at all. Get your rats from a reputable breeder. They are pet rats that will survive more than a few days and act as pets should. PART 2 - RAT BEHAVIOR AND MENTALITY As said already there will always be a hierarchy. Dominance will often be challenged and you will see your rats battling it out. But just because they are chasing each other and wrestling doesn't mean mutiny. They are very playful animals. They romp and run just like children. They are actually quite entertaining to watch. They are also extremely smart animals. They remember like an elephant. If you mistreat them they remember it and will not trust you. If you are kind to them they will like you better. They love to explore. New surroundings mean new places to see. But unless you buy a rat ball, or a rat pen, this is not a good idea to let them do. A full grown rat can squeeze through a hole the size of a quarter. Once they do that, they are most likely gone for good. Rats are nesters. They need a lot of material to build a nest. In the wild a colony can have up to 100 rats that are constantly maintaining the colonies nest. They sleep a lot. They burn a lot of energy when they are playing, and tend to wear themselves out fairly quickly. It's not good for their health to try to play with them when they are trying to sleep. Wait until they wake up on their own. Typically rats don't bite or claw, unless they feel threatened. If you don't present yourself as a threat you will do fine, but you do need to present yourself as the dominant one. If they feel that they are dominant over you, you will never be able to handle them. Some rats do bite. They might have been mistreated previously and are afraid. It's all down to the individual rat's personality. They can be a*****es just like people can. Rats will however, give you a very light nibble from time to time. This is what's known as a rat kiss. It's the same as when a dog licks you. It's a sign of affection, and nothing to be afraid of. They will also take a hold of your finger with their paws frequently. This means that they want your attention. If they do that, it's a sign that they love you. PART 3 - RAT HOUSING There are many types of housing choices for rats. You can get what are called "rat cities", which tend to run $200-$300 typically. These are what I personally use. Or you can get a simple wire cage or aquarium. If you go with any kind of wired cage make sure the bars are no more than ½ inch apart. If they are more than that, the rats will escape. I recommend an aquarium for beginners, because rats are extremely skilled escape artists. Depending on the number of rats you get would determine the minimum size of aquarium you need. It would be best to base it by rat. A typical aquarium for example is 20 gallon. With 4 rats, that's 5 gallons of space per rat. That's a decent base to start. I would highly recommend going bigger, but aquariums can be extremely expensive, so your budget may not allow it. Also try to get an aquarium with more floor space than height, so they have a bigger area to run around on. You will need to have a very secure way of keeping their habitat secure so they don't get out and run all over. Clips on an aquarium lid work well. The clips can slide off when you need to open it, but can be difficult to get off. So you may have to slip something under the clip top to lift it such as a screwdriver or a heavy blade knife. Doing this however, can bend the clips out of shape and render them useless. So it would be best to work at sliding them off instead. Rats need something to chew and gnaw on. They have a natural instinct to chew, and their teeth grow continuously through their entire life, never stopping growing. So they need a way to grind it down. If they don't have something steady to chew on, they will start chewing on each other. They will go after the weakest link in the chain. Then you'll lose one of your babies. The best thing is an edible shelter. A good brand is SnakShak. But those can be hard to find, even at high end pet stores like Petsmart. Other good ones are Ediblogz, which can be found at just about any Walmart and run about $6 a piece. It doesn't have to be anything super fancy, but you need something that would stand up to however many rats you get for a bit of time while they chew it up. If it doesn't last at least a little while, you will be spending a lot of money replacing them. Rats need exercise. Just romping in their home doesn't do it. You need to get them a wheel. Or two if you prefer. These are great for letting them run to their hearts content and keep them in shape. The type of bedding you choose matters a lot. There are a lot of bedding's you will see at your pet store. You will see everything from wood chips, to pebbles, to sawdust, to paper. For rats, get the paper. Wood chips are dangerous for rodents. They can get splinters, or pieces of wood stuck in their teeth, which can cause a lot of problems. The pebbles would also cause health problems since you can't just clean out the pebbles and put new ones in when you clean their cage. And if they were to eat them, it would kill them. The healthiest for them, and your wallet is the paper. If you go with a wire cage, you need to put something soft on the bottom so they're not on wires all the time. A fleece blanket or sweatshirt is perfect. They will move it around to where they want it, and they will tear it apart, so you will need to replace it once it gets super torn up. I always keep a couple extra sweatshirts and fleece blankets on hand for my rats. PART 4 - RAT NUTRITION You need to get the right food for rats. Also you need to make sure it's age appropriate. There are many types of rodent food to choose from. But just because it's good for a mouse or a guinea pig, does not mean it's good for a rat. They have a different metabolism than other rodents, and need a food that is specifically formulated for them. I feed my rats Oxbow pellets. The pellets you buy will be enough, but I highly recommend giving them fresh fruits and vegetables with the pellets. Nothing canned or cooked. Stay away from soft fruits and vegetables such as tomatoes and grapes, or citrus fruits. They need something they can crunch and chew. Carrots, lettuce, and cabbage are good choices for vegetables. Apples, watermelon, or cantaloupe would be good choices for fruits. Make sure though, that you remove the seeds first, especially with the apples. Apple seeds contain cyanide, and while not lethal to humans in small doses, rats are more susceptible to the poison due to their size. Also they could choke on fruit seeds. You need to get them a food dish that is safe for them and that will hold enough food for them so that you don't have to refill it several times daily. Ceramic is an excellent choice. They eat a lot, so be prepared to be spending a good amount of money on food. DO NOT EVER FEED THEM ONIONS OR ANYTHING CONTAINING ONION. ONIONS ARE LETHAL TO RATS WITHIN MINUTES. Also be aware that you can over feed your rats. Over feeding can cause a lot of problems. Obesity, diabetes, and breathing problems just to name a few. So watch how much you feed them, and make sure they have a balanced diet. You need to get water bottles that will survive their chewing. Plastic will have to be replaced regularly, unless they can be mounted on the outside of their cage. You can buy glass chew proof bottles. They are a few dollars more expensive, but will save you a lot of money in the long run. If you go with smaller bottles you will need at least one bottle per rat. If you go with larger bottles you won't need quite as many. Take for example a cage with 4 rats. With large bottles, I would need 2. For larger numbers dividing by 2 would be a bit impractical. For example if you had 10 rats, 5 large bottles would be a bit overkill. You will need to wash their food dish at least once every few days. Rats don't try to aim any specific direction when they have to go, unless they're marking territory. So they will go in their food dish. PART 5 - CAGE MAINTENANCE When you clean their cage, don't just scoop the bedding out and put new bedding in. You have to get all the feces out, and wash not only the bottom, but the sides with soap and water. When rats pee, they tend to spray. This is how they mark their territory, the same as dogs. You will have it on every surface in your rats cage if you're using an aquarium. After washing it you need to make sure you get all the soap cleaned out of the cage before you replace the bedding and put the rats back in. Soap residue can make them sick if they lick it up. And scented soaps can be attractive to them. Don't use cleaners such as Windex or Pledge. Just use simple soap and water. If you're using an aquarium, you need to check it periodically to make sure there are no breaks in it. If it gets cracked it will need to be replaced. They can easily crack it further which will allow them to have a way out, and also hurt themselves on the broken glass at the same time. If you want, you can get a small heating pad to put under the cage. A small one would be enough. You don't want anything big, or extremely powerful, as if it's too hot, they can burn their feet. So I would recommend against it, but if it has a low heat setting that is VERY lukewarm, you can try it. Just remember to keep a close watch if you do. PART 6 - RAT HEALTH AND LONGEVITY Rats are very clean animals. If you watch them you will see them cleaning and grooming themselves quite a bit. But rats can also carry a lot of health problems if they're not cared for properly. They can have organ problems, bone problems, respiratory problems, or emotional problems. The symptoms range from small things such as mood changes, to self harm, to violence toward you and other rats. You just need to keep an eye on them to make sure everything is going good for them. You need to keep not only their cage clean but the area around them. Remember germs can jump. Rats don't have the lifespan of animals such as dogs who live on average 12-15 years. Rats typically live between 2-3 years depending on the breed. So technically they don't live long, but they love hard. PART 7 - MISCELLANEOUS Contrary to what many will tell you, rats are very high maintenance. Their home has to be cleaned regularly, their food has to be specifically for rats, their water has to be clean, their home has to be sufficiently supplied for them to maintain their mental health, they have to be kept out of stressful situations, and above all they have to be loved. If you get rats and then lose interest in them, then that is cruel to them, because they will no longer be taken care of properly. You have to give them attention and love. Just because they live in a cage or aquarium doesn't mean they don't need you. It will hurt when you lose them, the same as any of your other companions. But your life will be that much richer for having had them. They will always love you if you love them.

I’m on a vitamin d scrip. Also I have 3 doctors working together watching the meds and another 3 neurologists in the mix. As for sunlight, I know this isn’t an actual thing but it’s the only way I’ve ever been able to describe it. I’m “allergic” to sunlight. Every time I get in sunlight I start having sneezing fits and trouble getting a breath. Also I’m EXTREMELY photosensitive. I wear sunglasses in the house and have to double up to go outside. So I try to avoid sunlight at all costs.

I've been on medication for many years now for bi-polar, depression, and schizophrenia. I was seeing a therapist for a few years, but when I came out to her she demanded a psychological evaluation. So I quit seeing her and have been pretty soured on therapists ever since. That was around 2-3 years ago. I've considered trying it again, but none of the therapists around here are LGBTQ+ friendly. And I'm not able to drive an hour and a half away to KC or SL just for a 45 minute therapy session. If I wasn't on the meds that I'm currently on, I probably wouldn't be here to make this post. Seroquel is just one of the many meds I take. I did a count the other day, and combining the meds I take both morning and night, I take a total of 34 pills daily. Just to keep me from going off the deep end. Yet still, I hate life.

I'm not happy. I don't mean I'm having a bad day. I mean in life all around. I don't get it either. I have all my needs met, and several luxuries. So what's wrong with me? I have someone in my life that (hopefully) loves me. I have food in my house, clean water, a roof over my head, and clothes on my back. So what's missing? I've always hated life. That much I know. For as long as I can remember, I've said "I don't know who I pissed off to deserve being here, but I'm sure as hell gonna make sure to not do it again." I've always seen life as a curse. Suicide is pointless. Knowing my luck, I would just screw that up and end up a quadriplegic or something that would only make everything worse than it already is. Is misery the gift I was given at birth? If so whoever gave it to me can have it back. And the horse they rode in on. I'm probably viewed as whining in this post, but I really don't care. I don't even know where I'm going with this. Or even IF I'm going anywhere. I'm just venting and trying to figure out why I'm so unhappy. I look around and quite frankly, I have more than a lot of people. I have no explanation. At least none that I can understand. Am I too greedy to be happy? Am I too selfish? Am I the type of person who always has to have more? I've never thought of myself as materialistic. I'll admit that I'm greedy, but I fight that as hard as I can, simply because I despise greed. It's one of my millions of flaws. And it's on the top 10 list of the ones that I can't stand about myself. So what do I want, a cookie? How about a foot in the ass? Whichever. I don't care anymore. I can't care anymore. That's an ability I lost a long time ago. Adrianne and I are fine as far as I can think of. We're not having any real problems at the moment as far as I know. Sometimes, however, I think the relationship has run its course. Then I think in the next instant that I couldn't live without her. My brain is twisted up worse than a damn corkscrew. The emotional turmoil going on in my mind is killing me. I feel like I'm dying. Like my body and mind are shutting down and just waiting for the right time to flip that switch from on to off. So what do I do about that? Tell it all to bite me? Put on a steel toed boot and give it a kick in the teeth? Or beg it for mercy? I've always hated myself and everything about me. I'm a cutter and watching the blood run is about the only thing that gives me any relief. Typically I rub salt into the cut. The burn is relief. I've always known that I'm a masochist. I kinda had to be. But as long as I have some form of relief in the cutting, it's all good. Sometimes I get drunk. Sometimes I get high. But cutting releases a lot more. But WHY?

If you read my blog My First 18 you'll get and idea why I refuse to trust.

I feel a bit strange, weird, different (whatever you want to call it) when I come here. I'm more misanthropic than you can know. I absolutely despise the human race. But here at this forum it's different. I've grown to care a great deal for the people here. I feel for the first time in my life that I have an extended family of people who care for me as well. But I don't know how to process it. Also I'm sitting here waiting for it to all come crashing down, like everything else in my life has. While I care, I still can't trust. I refuse to trust anyone, online or IRL. The idea of someone caring for me scares the hell out of me. It's a total alien thought. Little green men from Mars seems more plausible. The biggest thing of all? Where do I go when it all does eventually crash down around me? Do I just use the rubble to reinforce the wall I already have up? Do I use it as ammunition against anyone who dares to get close to that wall? Do I become a hermit, move into a different room of the house and never leave again unless I have to? One thing is that part about trust. It's not that I don't trust people. It's that I WON'T trust people. I refuse to do it. There's no reason to do it. Because every person will eventually stab you in the back to make themselves feel better. It's happened with every person I've known in my life, so at 37 years old there's no reason whatsoever to think otherwise. Even professional relationships crash and burn. My former therapist was the most recent one to prove that one. My hatred for people goes far. I could be sitting in my garage, drinking a soda, listening to music, and all of a sudden see a person get slammed into by a speeding driver. I would think nothing of it. I would throw a bucket of gas on a burning person, and a bucket of water on a drowning person if they were someone that had ever wronged me. But if I was to see someone else do the same, it wouldn't phase me a bit. All people are equal in that instance. I'm not specifically going after Synagogues, or blacks, or republicans, or corporate executives. You wrong me, and your days are numbered. And I know things that should only be known by people in the CIA, FBI, ATF, and higher level police. Lethal things that should never be known by the general public. I actually make my own home made cyanide. I put a couple drops of it in hollow point bullets then seal it with a couple drops of wax from a burning candle. I've been called evil by many, and if not spot on, it's not far off. I have my rats. I have my dogs. I have my birds. They are the only ones that I've known who love unconditionally. That's probably why I value their life above human life. Yet still, I care about each and every one of you here. I love you all. Platonically of course. I would never harm anyone here intentionally. I would defend you all as fiercely as I possibly could. Which is why I feel so screwed up in my head. How do I process this insanity and confusion? Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"-- here I opened wide the door; -- Darkness there and nothing more

I have written many poems, and a few short stories. I've even finished 2 full length novels. Nothing is polished, but they're written. I'm revamping a major chunk of one novel. Aside from the poetry, I have it uploaded to a page within my site. If you're interested I can PM you the link. The stuff I write isn't really for children, so it isn't something I can give a link to publicly.

Depression or sadness? Well there's a huge difference between the two. Sadness sucks. Maybe your favorite team lost the championship. Maybe your family said your meatloaf sucked. Maybe you're just having an off day. It's ok to cry. Let it out. Don't let anyone laugh at you for crying. Depression is beyond. Depression is an emotional disorder. The sufferers feel those things all day every day. They have no hope for tomorrow. They have no hope for today. They don't have the ability to get out of bed and carry themselves. They don't eat. They don't sleep. They want to be alone all the time. I know these things, because I suffer from depression. One will pass. The other will not without help from someone. Be they friend, family, professional, or somewhere else. But there is one thing you are required to forget about thinking. You don't have the right to kill yourself. Just because you have the ability doesn't mean you should exercise that ability. Ian Malcomb said it best in Jurassic Park: "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should." Your death solves nothing. It doesn't end the pain. It just passes it on to the next in line. Which is several people. Your parents, siblings, children, and extended family. Your friends will inherit your pain as well. Is that really what you want to do to all of them? My grandmother committed suicide before I was born. The result was that I never got to meet her. Nor did any of my cousins. I understand the pain gets overwhelming at times. I really do. I've attempted suicide more times than I care to try to count, in more ways than I care to admit. And when your attempt isn't successful, you feel like a total failure at life. You think "If I can't even kill myself right, I am nothing but a complete failure at everything." It's hell. Your mind stays in that hell for a long time. If you're thinking that I'm just blowing smoke up your butt right now then ask yourself this one question. If you're truly suicidal, why are you still here? Were you going to do it yesterday but got sidetracked? Or an hour ago? I'll tell you why you're still here. Because you want help. Because (depending on your personal beliefs) you don't want to face possible eternal damnation for taking that away from your god's decision of when. Because you want be loved, and you want to love. Everyone, no matter how successful, or happy they seem, has room for improvement. That's because there's not a living soul on this planet that is perfect. Obviously there's people who think they are, but if you're that narcissistic then you have more room for improvement than anyone else. Granted, every person everywhere will have the thought of suicide at least once in their life. It's natural. But over 99% of people don't do it. In the grand scheme of over 7 billion people it's actually rather rare. Don't try to make it common. You don't have that right. As a last note to anyone thinking about doing it, think about this... THE ONES YOU LEAVE BEHIND WILL SUFFER MORE THAN YOU.

Some years ago, before I met my wife, I was homeless. I spent 3 years on the street with nowhere to go. I lived in an old abandoned feed mill. My egg donor and female DNA match only lived a few blocks from me, but neither would take me in. During that time I was alone. Virtually. Where I was staying there was an old pile of sawdust and grain. It was about 6 feet high and probably about 12 feet wide. There was a colony of rats living in it. I would say close to 100 there. I knew that they would tear me up if I tried to dominate them, but I also knew they would do the same if I submitted to them too much. The patriarch of the colony defended his colony fiercely at first. I never attacked, but I didn't back down either. Eventually we grew to trust each other. After that we became friends. I named him Star, because he was black with a white star on his belly. Over time I gained the confidence of the whole colony. My home at the time was a sleeping bag and a duffle bag that had clothes in it for a pillow. I would often wake up with rats sleeping either on top of me, or even in the sleeping bag with me. There was once I woke up to a female giving birth on my sleeping bag. While I was living there it was hard to find food at first. Normally I would end up stealing what I could from grocery stores. Not a good idea, I know, but when you're starving you don't have many options. Then I got to thinking. When I was 16 I worked at Pizza Hut. I remembered that at the end of the night, we always threw a ton of pizza in the trash. Stuff that people who dined in didn't finish, or pizza that just never got picked up. So I started dumpster diving there. It was a gold mine. I never had to steal food again. A lot of it was water logged due to throwing cups of ice and stuff in the trash. I always passed on that. But the dry stuff I took with me. I got burnt out on pizza REAL quick, but hey I had to eat. It also gave the rats a better meal too. Granted rats are scavengers, and will even resort to cannibalism if they have to, but we had some good meals together. Water was never hard to come by. Every building has an outdoor water spigot, and a couple 2 liter bottles kept me hydrated. Granted I wouldn't have minded a soda once in a while, but that just wasn't in the cards at the time. So I found a steady supply of food and water. Over the years my spirits got lower and lower. I had less and less will to go on. Star was always there to keep me going, but he didn't have magical powers to make everything ok. He always followed me around like a puppy. When I would leave the mill, I would either put him on my shoulder and take him with me, or he would sit there at the door waiting for me looking so sad that I was gone. And when I got back he would go absolutely nuts. He was so sweet. But one day, I decided that I was done. I couldn't live like that anymore. I decided it was time to die. So I climbed up the stairs to the top floor which was about 5 stories up. There was an old window there that was busted out. I looked out of it and decided that a head first dive would do the trick. I started to climb up into the window when I felt this small tug on my pants leg. I turned around thinking I was caught on something. I was caught sure enough, but not how I was thinking. It was Star. He had followed me up the stairs. I tried to move him away so he didn't go with me. I started climbing up again, and again I felt that tug. He had me again. Somehow he knew what I was going to do, and he was determined to stop me. His heart was bigger than any I had ever encountered. He was the first one that loved me unconditionally. He fought me to stop me from killing myself. I couldn't believe it. A wild rat loved me that much. I sat down with him and he climbed up on my shoulder. I started crying. If he loved me that much, there was no way I could do that to him. From then on everywhere I went, he went. Not just because I wanted him with me, but because he wouldn't let me out of his sight. Even if I just stepped around the door to pee, he was right there with me. I'm crying right now as I'm writing this. If it wasn't for Star I wouldn't be here right now. To this day, no breathing creature holds as much of a place in my heart as a rat. I have 4 little guys here with me. I have an emotional need for them. It's all in thanks to Star. I wish rats lived longer or were immortal so I could have him here with me. But unfortunately he's gone. And I'm the only one that even knew he existed. Maybe, if I'm lucky enough, I'll see him again. On the other side. I just hope he's patient, because while I'm eager to see him again, I'm not eager enough to go for a permanent visit.

I hope this one turns out long. There's not enough good things I can say about her. In 2004 I lived in a tiny craphole apartment. It was in a rundown part of a dead town, in a rundown building. I was single and on disability. The landlords accepted section 8 housing so my rent was lowered from $350 to $160. I had internet which was $50 and cable TV which was another $50. All the utilities like power, water, sewer, etc were included in the rent so my total monthly bills were only $260. For a single guy living on his own, it wasn't bad. I hadn't even admitted to myself at the time that I'm a woman not a man so that's why I'm using the male pronoun. I had been single since I was 18, which was about 4 years. But during that time I was using, so I wouldn't have been any good to anyone anyway. I had only been fully clean for a few months. I logged into my email one day just looking at what I had and decided to look thru my junk mail. I had my inbox set to exclusive due to the fact that I got so much junk mail it was sickening. Why I decided to look thru my junk mail folder on this particular night I don't know. Fate perhaps. As I was looking thru it, I saw an email that seemed different. It was a womans name and the subject was simply "Hello". I was intrigued and decided to take a chance. I was blown away when I read it. It was a real email. A girl a few years younger than me had seen my profile on yahoo. She thought I was cute and sent me an email. I sent her a message on messenger and we talked for about an hour or so. We decided to meet that night. Crazy I know. For all we knew the other one was a serial killer. But after a quick shower I drove up to meet her. That was when my life changed forever. As soon as I saw her, the same thought kept going thru my head. "Damn she's cute". She was sweet and friendly. We talked about a bit of everything for a few hours. I had expected no more than the possibility of a good night kiss at most. More happened. She even ended up coming home with me that night. Again, I know, it was crazy. We started dating. Staying overnight with each other for extended periods regularly. After about 6 months of that, I felt that going back and forth like that was pointless, and asked her to move in with me. She got the biggest smile on her face, gave me a huge hug and kiss, and we were officially living together. That would have been somewhere near spring of 2005. We met in October of 04, so do the math and it would have been March or April. Somewhere in that area. After a while we grew to hate the apartment. It was too small for 2 people, lugging groceries up 2 flights of stairs was killing us, the neighbors were words I can't use here. We'll just say they were unpleasant. And the town, being a dead town, offered nothing to do for recreation. We had to travel almost 40 miles if we wanted to do something other than walk streets that were a drug den. The town has been listed as the worst meth town by ratio in the United States. Several kids I went to school with are in prison right now for running a kitchen. But I'm getting off topic. Her parents went to an estate auction and bought the property. It was a quaint little house in the country, in a really quiet area. You could really get away from everything there. Unfortunately she was taking some college courses back in town which was about a half hour drive, and I was at the house all day and night. This caused a rift between us. I had cabin fever, and she just wanted to rest after being in class all day. I didn't have my license at the time. I had waited too long to renew it. So I couldn't go anywhere. I could go to town with her when she went to school, but I'm in no way a morning person, and what could I do for entertainment? Nothing because I wasn't registered as a student, and in a dead town there's nothing to do but walk around. Her birthday rolled around in 2006. I was flat broke. I had asked her parents blessing to marry her some months before. They gave it. So since I was broke, I took a ring that meant something to me. It was a simple hematite band, nothing more. I told her to close her eyes. I put the ring in her hand. I got on one knee. Told her to open her eyes, and asked her to marry me. With the exception of watching my friend die, I've never been that scared in my life. She didn't waste any time in saying yes. I had to tell her to let go because I couldn't breathe. She was crying, kissing me hugging me, and almost immediately called her mother to tell her. The next year and a half was our engagement. She wanted a long engagement to make sure we had everything taken care of and didn't miss anything. When we started planning I told her that there were only two things that I demanded. No church, no priest. I'm not Christian so I wouldn't have a Christian wedding. Other than that everything was her choice. She was fine with it. We got married on Saturday October 11th 2008 at the Kansas City Renaissance Festival. October 11th was the day we met in 2004. We wanted to keep that day. She was more beautiful than I had seen her that day. I wore a kilt, as did my brother who stood with me. He was the only one from my side that even showed up. We had more of a pagan wedding than anything, mostly due to me being a Celt. That was a gift from her that meant a lot to me. Today we've been married for over 10 years and together for over 14. The road hasn't always been smooth, but we've fought through. If it wasn't for her I most likely would still be living in that craphole apartment. Or worse. I wouldn't be able to be the woman I am. I would be a hermit. I would be a forgotten presence. Adrianne saved me. I made the following video for her.

This one is long so You'll need some time to read it all. I grew up in a small area. The town I originally lived in has less than 300 people. Well technically I didn't live in town I lived in the country, but screw semantics. I don't know why, but I was the one the family hated. I'm not exaggerating when I say hated. They reminded me daily how much they hated me. The first thing I remember about the abuse is my uncle. When I was 2, and still in diapers, he threw me into an above ground pool and said "Swim or die" before he walked away. I don't remember how I got out of the pool, but when I did I went to my father crying. He hit me in the head with a board for, as he put it, "being a (euphemism for a vagina)". I woke up there in the yard a day or so later. He was a violent drunk that only cared about where he was getting his next drink. He would regularly beat me just for fun. I had black eyes, the occasional broken bone. I also had times when they would lock me in my room for a few days and not give me any food or water. I didn't need it since I could drink my urine and eat my excrement. I never did either, so I almost died. But it was all standard. My brother and sister however, walked on water. Everyone everywhere loved them. Even my own in-laws love my brother. They hate me, but love him. They have asked when his birthday is so they can send him a card or something, but won't even say happy birthday to me. Mine was a week ago and they didn't even acknowledge my existence. But back to the reason for this blog. We moved from that town to a bigger one (roughly 15k people) before I started school. My first day of kindergarten I got all my stuff in my backpack, and started to leave for the bus stop. I was already scared, but my father made it worse. Aside from his verbal assault, he literally kicked me down the front steps of the house. There were 6 stone steps. I had to go to school like that. Bloody and scratched up. Apparently my parents (and I use the term EXTREMELY loosely) had called the school and told them that I may look rough when I got there because the cat had attacked me, but I had wanted to go to school anyway. We didn't have a cat. When I got there, the kids looked at me, and almost all of them got this look of disgust and hate on their faces. I didn't know what I had done. The teacher looked at me and said it was about time I got my lazy *** to school. Fast forward 2 years to second grade. Mrs Rosentrater. My second grade teacher had a special hatred for me. I never understood her. She made up stories about me and not only told them to adults, but to the students as well. If I was wiggling my foot, it meant I had "problems". She made me sit in a box for 2 weeks. After 2 weeks she would try to tell me it had only been one week and very loudly call me stupid. I eventually started skipping school and vandalizing the teachers cars and school property. I retaliated like that. I was never officially caught, but they all knew it was me. I made it thru 3rd and 4th grade pretty normal. Daily beatings by sperm donor(dad) verbal assault by egg donor(mom). Nothing out of the ordinary. 5th grade comes along. We get a new principal. Dana Mogar. She hated me more than Satan. I actually heard her one day say that she "wanted any excuse to screw him over". Her exact words. If I burped I was distracting the other students and offending them. 3 day suspension. I was in lunch one day and this black student that always bullied me something fierce was on me. I ignored him as best I could. After lunch we always walked out to the playground. He kept tackling me as I walked. I got called into the office. The students had told the teacher that I was attacking HIM. Also that I had told another black kid to "get a rag and wipe the mud off his face" and that I was calling them both the N word. I went ballistic. My egg donor was called in. She eventually asked her if she could spank me. The egg donor said go for it. I grabbed a letter opener and said "If you try I'll blanking kill you". She looked at me and asked me if I was crazy. I just said "try me b****". 2 week suspension. I looked up where she lived. I slashed her tires, burned down a shed, and killed her dogs. After that I got sadistic. I also went for as many students as I could find. If I had been caught I would have been I juvee until I turned 21. Mogar also followed me through 3 schools. At home is where it was bad though. My sperm donor beat me unconscious while my egg donor cheered him on. They had divorced a few years prior, but still agreed on how to raise me. A fist was the best way. Beat me into submission and false confessions. The verbal assault from my egg donor was fairly normal. The one that stuck with me the most was when I was 8. She looked me dead in the eye and said "I wish I had aborted you". The other things she said several times on a daily basis was that I "wasn't worth S-word", "No one would ever love me", "You'll never amount to S-word", and so much more. I can't tell you how many times I stood by her bed in the middle of the night holding a butcher knife, staring at her, and daring myself to do it. I eventually decided that the physical beatings were more desirable than the verbal ones, so I moved in with my sperm donor, which proved to be an almost fatal choice. I was 12 when I moved in with him which also meant changing school districts. The beatings were daily now and multiple times per day. This was when I started sleeping with a loaded rifle in my hands. I was a lot bigger than the other kids. After the beatings at home I was also a lot meaner. The first day they were all afraid of me. On through out 8th grade I was suspended regularly for beating the ever living hell out of any student who got under my skin, male or female. I guess this is what caused the entire school to hate me. High school wasn't any better. I stayed to myself, and did what I could for my grades. Mostly D's and a few C's. I've never been a good student. It doesn't matter what it is. Something I want to teach myself, or learn somewhere else. Sophomore year rolls around. My Freshman math teacher told me I should have been in algebra. She actually liked me for some wild reason. I got an A+ in basic math. I was beyond shocked there. So I decided to take algebra sophomore year. I understood nothing. The problems we were give were things like (x-3)y solve for y. How the hell am I supposed to know what Y is!? There's a huge gap of information there! So I failed miserably. But the bad thing is that the teacher would call my house every single night and talk to my sperm donor. Even if I had my bedroom door locked, he'd break the door down, and beat me until his fist was tired. Even if I was unconscious he would still be beating me. Finally I picked up the phone one night when she called. She asked for him. I threatened her life and that of her family if she didn't stop calling. I told her the results of her calls, and that I didn't need that poop, before slamming the phone down. The next day in class as I was walking into the room, she flagged me over to her desk. I walked up to her, and she told me she didn't like what I had said to her. I told her I didn't like her causing me to get the poop beaten out of me. She asked me what I was talking about. I opened my shirt and she saw the damage. My father rarely went for the face. It was easier to hide it in the hair or under a shirt. I told her to keep her mouth shut or I would get it even worse. At semester, I dropped her class. Fast forward to 16. I got a job as a cook at Pizza Hut. It was my first real job. The pay sucked, and the hours sucked. But hey it was putting a few bucks in my pocket every 2 weeks. I never told my sperm donor when I was paid or how much. He would have forced every penny out of me. He had a new reason for beating me now. I wasn't home after school to take care of his horses or calves. He expected me to do both. Since I wasn't able, the fists and boards came. My first real girlfriend was a girl I met at Pizza Hut. She was a waitress named Beth. Which at the time was a little creepy since my sister's name is Beth. She was virtually obsessed with oral sex. Which made my father extremely angry that I was with a girl and he wasn't. She ended up taking my virginity, which actually made things even worse. If we were in my room with the door closed, he would often break it down to see what we were doing. Whether we were having sex, playing video games, taking a nap, or just sitting and talking didn't matter. He had to know. Eventually after about 6 months we broke up. Fast forward to summer after I turned 17. I made the absolute worst mistake of my life. I enlisted in the Marines. I had wanted to be a Marine since I was 5. The movie Full Metal Jacket was what made the choice for me. I would have shipped out right then, but they said I couldn't until after I turned 18. So I was in DEP for a year. My sperm donor told both me and the recruiters there was no way I was going to make it. That they were stupid for recruiting me, that I was too much of a (euphemism for vagina) to do it, etc. When I got home, he took to beating me for "disgracing the United States military". He was a Vietnam Navy vet. Which meant he was God apparently. He was right about me and the military. 2 weeks shy of graduation I was given an entry level separation. I failed at the only thing in my life I had ever wanted. That was when I knew that everything my egg donor had ever said to me was true. That I was truly completely and utterly worthless. I came home with my head down and a lifetime of shame to look forward to. My pride was destroyed. Any self worth I had had previously was gone, never to return. The beating I got was one of the worst. I did fight him off once though. He told me that if I ever pulled a knife on him he would kill me. I told him he wasn't ever gonna grab me again. He came at me and I cracked him in the face with a shovel. Then I DID put a knife to his throat and threatened to KILL HIM right then and there. He didn't respond. A day and a half later I decided to look for a job. I stopped by his room, and for a reason I still can't find, told him I loved him. He looked at me and said "I don't. You're a waste of a human being." I turned around and left. What else could I have expected. So I went looking for work, turned in some applications and a couple resumes. I came home and he wasn't anywhere to be found. Not anywhere in the house, not in his shop, no where. The truck was still there. So if he had left he had gone with someone else. I got back in my truck and left. About a mile from the house something just didn't feel right. So I turned around and went home. I looked around again, and looked over the gate to the barn lot and saw a blue shirt in front of the door. I hopped the gate and went over to it. It was just the shirt he had been wearing earlier. I was about to turn around, and suddenly there he was. In the shirt. Dead. It was surreal at first. I went into the house, sat down on the couch and told my grandmother he was dead. She didn't believe me. I told her I wouldn't joke about something like that. From there I went back to the barn lot. All I could think was that it was finally over. No more beatings. No more being labeled a (euphemism for a vagina). I was free. From there I don't remember anything. I know I was blamed for it. There was a hell of a lot of "What did you do" and "Why did you do this" from everyone. There was one person, I don't remember who, that tried to get me arrested for the murder of him. The cops didn't since it obviously wasn't homicide. According to the coroner it was a massive heart attack. I didn't care. I was just happy he was finally dead. The blog My Story will tell you what happened next. I've been to his grave a few times. The last time I was there, I emptied my .38 at his tombstone. It's hard to put into words why, but I'm sure a lot of you will instinctively know why. If I ever go back, I'm sure I'll do the same. The only reason I would go back is to visit my grandmothers grave. Which is unfortunately very close to my sperm donor's grave. These days I refuse to have anything to do with anyone I share the slightest bit of DNA with. None of them know how to find me. No phone number, email, home address, social media, website, nothing. And I will keep it that way forever. They didn't want me when they had the chance, they don't get me now that they have lost that chance. My only hope is that my egg donor is dead also.

I'm posting this in the hopes that it may help someone. I've talked a little bit about the type of upbringing I had. It was not a pleasant one. When I was 18 I went thru 2 traumatic events within a day and a half of each other. After being abused my whole life and then that, I snapped. I started getting high. At first it was small stuff. Grass mainly. Then that didn't cut it. So I started doing other things. Blow, angel dust, acid, x, and many other things. I even tried molly and black tar. Both scared the ever living *expletives deleted* out of me. I never smoked black tar again, but I was stupid enough to to go skiing a couple more times. There was a guy I paired up with. We would always pool our money together to get the "good stuff". We got our money from many criminal activities. I'm not sure if I can name them here, but I'm sure you know what they are. If we didn't have the money for the good stuff we would go to the grocery store and pick up a certain item to get high. This item would send you flying for 3 days straight with just a little bit of use. The scariest part about it was the crash. You didn't come down gradually like you do with kush. Imagine an airplane flying along. It stops at one point and just drops faster than the speed of light straight down. The crash off this item could easily kill, if not physically then mentally. I've seen many people end up in mental institutions off one use of this because of the crash. There was an old house that we stayed in with a lot of other junkies. If someone was to pass me something I wasn't familiar with, or I was too high to recognize, I only had 2 questions. "How do I take it" and "How long until it kicks in". There was no power or running water. So it was lit by candle light. Candles were always stolen. Money was for drugs. I'm sure you're wondering how it was that I got clean. My friend (I swear to the Gods I don't remember his name) and I were coming down off something, and I have no idea what it was. I was strung out on the couch. He was standing up in front of me talking. All of a sudden he got this really weird look on his face. He was dead before he hit the ground. I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life, before or since. And I doubt I ever will again. Watching him die hit me like a locomotive. I quit right then and there, cold turkey. Quitting that way was a stupid idea. I didn't go to rehab, because I was scared that I would go to prison for the things I had done to get money to get high. I lived in any kind of shelter I could find that people weren't getting high in. Most of the time I was so sick I puked up everything in my stomach, and when that was all gone, I puked up the stomach acid. If I wasn't sick I was in so much physical pain I wanted to die. Just to get away from that pain. I'm not going to lie, I relapsed a few times. Just for a release from the sickness and pain. It took me almost 2 years to get clean the way I did, and I barely survived. How I survived I don't know. I lost 2 years of my life. I get bits and pieces here and there from that time, but almost nothing. That's 2 years I'll never get back. Plus the 2 years it took me to get clean. So make that 4 years. And there's no telling how many years have been taken off my life. With all the chemicals I put in my body It's very possible I may not make it to 40 and I'm 36 right now. I still have flashbacks. Here and there, my mind goes completely blank, and I'm high again, even though I haven't touched anything. Not even alcohol. For somewhere around 10 years after I got clean I was so terrified of drugs I wouldn't even take an Advil if I had a headache. I would just deal with the pain until it went away on it's own. People I knew got married, some had kids, and some passed. Yet I didn't know and missed it all because I was too damn high. I stopped existing. Where was I? I don't know, and most likely never will. And to be honest, I don't even want to. So if you're getting high, take my story so that it hits you like a brick to get yourself clean. If you aren't getting high, let this be a reminder of why to never try it. Getting high is lethal. It can and will kill you eventually. Or it may be someone you love that dies. But there will be a life lost. And it's due to your drug abuse.