Can your give your life story or any story in your life to me?

Answer 1

I was born in central Oklahoma, right in the middle of the USA to a 16 year old honorsstudent out of wedlock. My father soon joined the Navy, and moved her to San Diego where they were married. He had substance abuse problems and three years later threatened to throw my little brother, who was an infant, off a forty story building. The cops got to him in time, but as a three year old, it was a lot to bear. I was put in foster care for a while where I was sexually molested and abused by other children, a social worker, and a foster parent. My best friend at that time was a Tonka truck, the heaviness of which was comforting to me. I didn't see my mother or brother for extended periods of time.

By the time I was five my mother and new stepfather had finally gained custody of me and moved to Naval housing in Virginia Beach. I had learned to read at the sixth grade level, so I lost myself in books and became an introvert. I was always reading something, occasionally taking time out to draw or sing, but unfortunatley I didn't get along well with other kids and teachers at school. In Kindergarten, I cut off a little girl's pony tail with scissors, and in the first grade I stabbed a kid in the back with a pencil. By the second grade I had molested my own little brother who was five and set a mailbox on fire, and my parents decided they couldn't handle me any more, so they sent me to stay at a child behavioral center where I was again molested by other kids and a counselor.

The center pronounced me "cured" when the Navy refused to pay any more of the bills, and I returned home to a new half brother and parents whom had discovered their wild side and become party animals, drinking, smoking weed, and snorting coke all the time.

It was during this time that they sent me to live in Oklahoma with my grandmother who gave me a lot of spiritual training and taught me the value of organized religion, sports, and community service in the form of Scouts. I was not molested once in the entire year I stayed there.

Upon returning home, I became an honor roll student and was sent to a school for gifted children, but the neglect at home had worsened, and within another year, I was once again seeking attention in negative ways- exposing myself to some female students, stealing from the local convenience store, and I got my first D...in math. I discovered that I couldn't just breeze through math like I could everything else...there were formulas to memorize and skills to practice, and I had no use for homework, since my standardized test scores were all in the 99th percentile. It was in the fifth grade that I really began my downward spiral.

I kept up with my physical fitness throughout junior high school, always running and playing football, soccer, or volleyball and constantly playing outside with my friends. I finally started to feel like life was pretty good. I'd taken to making up fantastical stories to impress my friends, but I was really only molested once within a three year period, so my obsession with sex really didn't do much to mess with my life. Then my stepfather got stationed in Naples, Italy, and we move over there with him...just in time for me to hit puberty...

...I was very confused; I loved the way it felt, but something about it just seemed...wrong. My parents tried to act like they didn't notice I'd gone missing for extended periods of time, and when the Vaseline turned up mysteriously under my bed next to a plethora of soiled Kleenex, my mom was silent. But everyone knew I had discovered my true passion. I began drawing pictures and writing stories about every kind of sexual thing I had discovered up till then. My sixth grade Social Studies teacher must have sensed something was up because he took his turn molesting me. By that time I really didn't mind all that much, but I really, really, really just wanted to be with girls. I loved girls. Suddenly girls had become all I could think about. I resolved to find myself a girl and find out what made them tick.

So, the next year, after many solo adventures, I told this little fourth grade girl who was really pretty that us seventh graders liked to go hang out under the boardwalk cause that's where the grown ups went to do fun, cool, grown-up stuff (which was true; I'd spied on quite a few of them actually, and there were used rubbers all up and down the beach under the boardwalk in Naples), and we went there together on a beautiful summer day.

We carved our names in the sand and played with each other's private parts....."Look what I can do!" And I showed her, and she was amazed. We spent a good six more months playing under the boardwalk till one day my father, curious as to what his oversexed son was up to out in public, followed us to our secret spot and caught us red handed. he told me I was never goign to see her again and that he'd already talked to her father and that her dad was going to get transfered back to the States.

I was devastated, so I did the only thing I could think of to do, which was run away. Running away in Italy when you're a little blond headed American teenager who doesn't speak much Italian at all is a very bad idea.

So, there I was, thirteen, oversexed, underappreciated, and after three days travel, REALLY HUNGRY. Salvatore was a kindly old Italian man who spoke pretty good English and decided to take me in. He had taken in a large number of boys, most of them emaciated and dirty Italian kids who were about five or six years older than me and whom appeared not to even notice the rats in the guy's crumbling apartment, nor the horrible stench of the fish in the corner market he kept below, which was Salvatore's main source of income....but not his ONLY.

But you really don't want to know what happened to me during the two weeks I stayed with Salvatore and the other boys before the Navy MPs and the Caribinieri Italian Police finally found me. Funny thing was they didn't even find me at Salvatore's. I had been "loaned" to another merchant to help him satisfy some special Japanese tourists in a local inn; they found me chained to a bed naked with one of my testicles ruptured and a sizable chunk of my left breast, including the entire nipple, bitten off and infected. Of course we went back to the states after that, and I was put in a mental hospital for a year till the State decided I could be returned to my family.

I would go on to tell you the part about the two little boys who were murdered in the forest near where I lived, or my first experience with self mutilation, but I fear if I were to give too much more away, Yahoo might violate me or worse. So, I will just thank you for asking the question and bid you goodnight.

By the way, I'm fine now. There's a lot of people out there who had it way worse than me. Take care.

Answer 2

I need a 10 page forum and more for life story so I will summarise it as short as possible.

It took me all my life to realise:

There is no such thing as an accident, we subconsciously attract all situations.
There is no such thing as coincidence, as all is cause and effect. There are no 'mistakes' only lessons to grow through. We ask for everything 'we get' even that which we did not physically ask for, our fears work strong in this area through doubts and guilt. I have learnt that what we think creates our every moment and our future experiences. I have learnt we can create healthful and happier ones simply by believing in this as my reality....and then seeing it manifest. I now know my diagnosis was a 'lie' told to me to keep me 'sick' and that I can now let go of labels and titles. I am now free and use my free will and no longer choose to be a 'victim' of life or society.

I now live my life, my life no longer lives me. I am looking forward to the new world as I see it manifest each day I awaken and breathe and am grateful for that which I do have.

Blessings be yours in peace and light
Harriett Potty ;)

Answer 3

8 years ago, I married a man who always kept me broke and on the streets even while pregnant. He was abusave in many ways. I felt that my life was going to stay like that forever. One day, I learned about the women's resource center who helped me get out of that situation. In one year, that man ruined my life. I thought I would never get it back on track. When my daughter was a year in a half old, I lived in my own apartment until she was five. I was pretty satisfied with my single life with my daughter and then I ended up with a man who treated and still treats me with love and respect. He never even said one cruel word to me. Just when I thought of never getting married again, we got married last year and now have a beautiful five month old daughter. Yes, I am leaving out the bad details of my last marraige but non of that matters cause I have learned that not all guys are the same. This one has a job and I never lost my home with this one. We've been in the same place together for three years and married for one.

Answer 4

My life story is your life story. We are humans and we evolve the same .... just not all at the same rate....

Answer 5

Well, I was born in Princeton, West Virginia 31 one years ago and the next thing I knew I was here on Yahoo answers answering this question.

Answer 6

You can only hear my story you cannot fully posses it, in order to have a story you must live it, make it.

Answer 7

i would...but i dont want it posted all over...so you can email me and i will tell you a few good stories.....ive led a crazy life so far!

Answer 8

it's a long story...

Answer 9

born,lived,and will die