The Twists And Jerks That Make Us Sick

Well, I've read all the comments that have been left for me. Thank you to all those who have read and commented on my blog! You can send this link to anyone, I do not care who reads it. Seriously people, just send out the link in a Mass e-mail to everyone you know.
Back to "The Life of a True Teenager". I left off when I said that my dad had left me pondering suicide. Well, see, the not-so-funny thing about suicide is: once you try it successfully, there is no redo or I didn't mean it. It is a one time thing. So, in December of 2009, I tried a "knock-off brand" of suicide. Technical term: self-mutilation, slang: cutting. My left thigh is now a distant memory of past anger and depression.
One of the smartest yet worst and dumbest decisions I ever did, was tell my dad about my cuts. Because that gave him leverage over me and I thought I had no power to aid my case. He could call me a friggin' nutcase and I actually believed there was nothing I can do to prove I wasn't. He had that much influence over me. Hence the name: http://influence1792.blogspot.com/. He called me out of control, I believed him. He called me a dumb ass, I believed him. The family was like a bipolar person being influenced by me! If I was blamed or was in trouble, EVERYONE was mad. If I was not in trouble or not being blamed, EVERYONE was happy. I felt like a kinked hose. The pressure was building and building till enventually, someone unkinked it.
My cutting started in the beginning of December of 2009 and ended at the end of January 2010. It was hard, I had grown to enjoy it. Like an addict wanting more. The reason I stopped was, Hell, I told my school guidance counselor about my cutting. Then my SRO got involved, then my therapist, then the school nurse. They all didn't want me to go back home, so the SRO took me to a juvenile processing facility and placed me as PPC (Police Protective Custody). Was shipped into a teenager's shelter and was housed there for 24 days.
At the end, my dad was supposed to pick me up, he never did. So I came to the conclusion: both of my parent's are the dumb ass ones. They are the ones whom kept ditching me and placing me outside the familial circle. The SRS got involved and there was a court case, still going if anyone cares, next court date is May 6, 2010. My dad won't even accept any calls or text messages I send to him and he's warped my siblings minds' to the point where they won't even talk to me. I won't hate anyone, but I sure that Hell can be pissed off! This is family, you know? Families are supposed to be through thick and thin...I don't think they got the memo...

The "New Frontier"

Okay, so one day, out of the blue, my mom asks me, "How would you feel if you can go back to school and live with your grandparents?" I was all over it. I was asking what I can do to make it happen...Remember, I still believe she has Full Custody of us. Believe it or not, this is not the first time she's dumped me at my grandparents' house. She did it the first time in Arizona during my sixth grade year, except it wasn't so subtle that time. I was at a Citrus Farm and came back a few hours later and all my siblings plus my mom, were gone. Didn't know where they went until a week later.
Anyways, we meet my grandparents half way between Cuidad Juarez, Mexico and Farmington, New Mexico. I get to Farmington and start nine weeks late into my freshman year of high school. Another nine weeks later, I find out the my dad got my mom arrested, when she had three of my siblings with her. Two went back and the other went into a Group Home. My dad and step-mom took a plane and picked up the one in Group Home. The other two were sent back into Mexico. I eventually end up living with my dad.
The Fit hit the SHan! Okay, so there was a "honeymoon" phase as one of my friends and therapist has told me before. A few months of bliss and then the I felt the crack of my dad's whip. Got blamed for everthing that went wrong. Well, long story short, my dad ended up driving me to think of suicide.

Further Details from 2007

Okay, so we left off at the place where my mom told us kids that she had Full Custody of us. I would like to reiterate: wrong. Apparently she had JOINT Custody of us kids. So my dad still had rights. Anywho, so my mom and step-dad plus a bunch of his family took most of our belongings down to Cuidad Juarez, Mexico in a 23-hour straight drive. Slept a good deal of the way.
Once in Mexico, we decided to stay with Arturo's (step-dad) brother's home. It was a nice place, for Mexico that is. Every building had barred windows and doors. Awkward...especially with blonde-haired, blue-eyed kids. Did I hear, "Sex Trafficing"? Bad place, slums from the look of it.
Dang, need to go. Night folks!

Post # 2

Hi folks. Turns out I have one Follower, thank you to you, and five comments. That means a lot to me. Well, where did I leave off? Aw, screw it. I'll start from the beginning. Just bits and pieces:
*Seen my own mother smoke weeds (she's offered before and I've done it at the age of eight along with others who were involved).
*I've been physically beaten twice (step-dad once and mom's ex-bf once).
*Seen my own mother give the ex a friggin' blow job...yuck.
*At the age of four, I walked into my parents bedroom and found them having sex...ew.
Okay, back to what I do remember. Let's start off with the Eighth Grade. I was 13 and weighted around 200 lbs with a severe acne problem. Let me tell you how easy it was for me to find a chick...IT WASN'T!!! Anyways, tough year. I became physically abusive to my little brother. I cry myself to sleep these days when the thoughts of doing it to him comes back. Same with my little sister. I usually don't have a violent attitude to them these days, but that was horrible. I could have been thrown in jail for all the beating I thought I had the right to give them...but hey: I am a teenager, I know everything, right? I still have those moments at the age of 17. Back to the past, 8th grade, I had a girlfriend...Heavenly(yes that is her real name). Took her to see a movie and guess what? The next day she leaves me for a friggin bully. Go figure?! I threaten to stab the dude and a teacher overhears. Him and I are suspended for five days. During the same year, I broke my left pinky toe...by stubbing it on a PLASTIC fan. I also went to the hospital with Cellutitis and had to sleep with an IV in my arm. Got beat by my step-dad for breaking my room's door/mirror, almost breaking the dishwasher and washer, and beating my little brother. Not a fun experience.
A fun experience, and scarey, was my mother teaching my how to drive. It was just pulling out of the parking lot and driving into our driveway, a distance of 20 feet, but I just about wrecked about 3-4 different times. My mom was so scared, I laughed and almost wet myself with shock and laughter. Then, things took a change for the worst. A decision will be made that pretty much sums up why I am in Kansas and not in Utah or New Mexico anymore.
During the month of August of 2007, my step-dad got a deportation slip for the government because he over stayed his work visa. So my mom, being the great decision maker she is, decides to take us all down to Mexico. Nice, huh? Wrong, in three months I learned that I never want to go to the slums of Mexico again. The three apartments around us had the following neighbors: Mormons (not so bad since we were), Drug dealers (pretty shady people), and a Dysfunctional family (sound familiar?). Didn't understand a word they said either. Well, aside from all that, I asked my mom why I had to go and not stay with my dad. She told all of us she had Full Custody of us. Wrong...
I will continue later, it's getting late here: 9:14 pm. Night and thanks for reading!

Hello Blog-Reader!!!

Hey peeps! I am deciding to write a blog these days because I think a family needs to be disected. Partly mine...I mean there is no family on Earth that can match mine. I have a mother who has Multilple-Personality disorder and Bipolar disorder. Then a father who is a total Dictator and thinks the Army can fix anyone just cause it fixed him. By the by, my name is Matthew if you don't already know me. I'm not here to complain...journaling just never helped so: what the hey! I'll just create a blog! I have been a self-mutilator, alcoholic, and addict. I've gotten over them...most of them I should say.
You know, my therapist was able to describe my family a few weeks ago. What she described was a "Dysfunctional Family". She was able to pin all my family members and their personalities. There was the Addict(s): my parents/step-parents, whom were abused or abusive in a way to their kids. There was the Hero: my sister/step-sister, whom takes the focus off the Addict(s) and fills the family with pride. There was the Class-Clown: my brother, whom provides comic relief. There was the Loner: my step-brother, whom drifts off and does their own thing and no trouble is caused from this person. Then comes me...the Scapegoat/Trouble-Maker, whom gets into trouble with the law and at school. This person also tells the truth about the family, part of the reason why I was always in trouble I bet. However, that does describe my family in a nut shell.
I have been arrested once, but just got off two months early from 1-year Standard Probation. I thought it was cool to be with the druggie kids. Brought booze to school on one occasion, brought pills to school twice. Got arrested the second time, almost got charged with a Level-3 Felony, but it got reduced into two Class A Mideamors: Drug Paraphernalia and Possession. Spent 16 days in a juvenile detention center. That was a nice experience...I mean...not cool dude! Got to read all day and ate a good sized meal every meal. Got into shape with exercising and all, too!
Well, that is enough for tonight! Night folks!