I ran away from home at 12 my father and i used to

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I ran away from home at 12. My father and I used to fight. Physically as much as verbally. One night, I was willing to just end it all in front of his eyes and he egged me on. So I went to draw the knife across my forearm when mom lunged and grabbed at me. I ended up debilitating her use of two fingers on that hand. Brother ran her to the hospital while my father beat the absolute shit out of me. They left me on my cousin’s doorstep afterward. I then decided I was running away. My aunt bought me a ticket to California, and I ended up staying with another cousin of mine until he was arrested for gang affiliation and the apartment was lost. That’s when his friends, a young couple who had just been married said that they would take me in till my cousin got out. The gaslit the fuck out of me and ended up abusing me for some time before passing me to other friends like a trading card.

I found my way out of that sometime after I had turned 13 and ended up a homeless squatter punk kid. But I did find a family on those streets with a gang of other kids and young adults who were squatting in abandoned buildings. Reina was kind of the matriarch of this jacked up family. She loved me. Thought she was 19 and I was 13 I feel she taught me how someone cared for another person earnestly. It was when I thought things were finally somewhat stable for me that some gangbangers came down looking to cause harm to some neo-Nazi dudes who hurt their friend badly. I guess they equated punk rockers to Nazi scumbags. They killed my best friend that night and shot then set me on fire with gasoline. At this point I was 16. Never a thought of going home in my head. Just so happens that the best burn unit in the country was in my hometown, and I found my way back here. Anyhow, my father and I reconciled around the time I was 30. He was proud of me on his death bed for helping him and mom after he got sick. I’ve never really been one for therapy. Usually going the stoic route for any given issue in my life. But I understand that it does help so many people. I am happy to donate to this cause.

Thank you for reading or giving me any amount of time on the internet. I hope you end up helping many people.

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Thank you for sharing your story with us. It’s a very interesting and hard journey that you have had to go on in your life. Having to search for so long for a place you belong, and never really finding the perfect place, and having it all destroyed when you do find people you care about, in an unexpected place. I’m glad you are still here to share, and have so far survived what life has thrown at you.

I think that sometimes just getting the opportunity to share with another human being, like you are doing here, can be it’s own form of therapy. I can relate a lot to the idea of being too stoic to pursue therapy, but after finding the right mental health professionals I am also glad that I gave it a chance. That’s not to say that it is something you need to do, as we are all different, and do things in our own ways. Just that I believe it can be of use, if it is given the proper chance.

I hope that you are doing well now, after all that you have been through, it’s pretty crazy that by chance you ended up back at home. We here appreciate your sharing your story, and any support that you give to us. So thank you again, and feel free to share more with us if you ever want/need.