The story of my life(Crazy_Dutchie)

The story of my life 1/?

It all started on the 23rd of February 2003 in Drachten, Friesland, The Netherlands. I was born with a heart murmur and reflux disease. I was born into a family of six including me. My dad, my mom, my oldest half-sister Yvonne, my half-brother Jeffrey, my sister Janet and now me: Jan “Geert” de Boer. Despite my oldest siblings not being full siblings, I’ve always seen them that way. They are my mother’s children. My brother Jeffrey is challenged. He has severe ASS, he is mentally much younger than physically and he has a very low IQ. This made my parents tired and desperate since he was a pain in the backside when he was a baby.

My first memory is of my dad throwing with the chair I was sitting in. My second memory is of my dad squishing a rat to death with his bare hands. Sufficed to say, my dad was a very aggressive man.

I don’t remember this, but my mom told me that when I was 2 years old, my dad had a tantrum. He started throwing with things and my mom fled with me and my siblings. My dad managed to pull me from my mom’s arms and he took me with him. My neighbours called the cops, but they said they couldn’t do anything about it. My dad eventually calmed down and life resumed as if nothing happened.

My memories become more vivid at the age of 3. I remember going to kindergarten. I remember going to my first elementary school. I remember moving to a new town, Rottevalle. In these times nothing very interesting happened. When I moved I also had to change schools. I went to a below-average school. Everything was easy for me. I was good at reading and writing when I was 4, whilst the others weren’t. When I went to third grade we started doing calculus. I was very good at it. I was so good that they considered moving me from grade 3 up to grade 5. They decided not to since my social skills were already lacking.

In third grade, I changed schools yet again. I went to a more average school. I was accepted by my classmates straight away. My changing schools triggered years of bullying in my hometown. Years later I figured out it was because I was the school betrayer. Kids started physically attacking me in groups of 20. I could dodge most hits and kicks luckily. Every time I got home my dad got upset with me because it could only be my fault they bullied me in his eyes. And he was so upset I didn’t hit back. One day they bullied me whilst I was wearing wooden shoes. I took them off and started hitting the bullies in the head with them. I blew up and went mental. Something snapped inside me that day and I’ve been aggressive ever since. Due to me being 8 at the time, I barely hurt my bullies luckily. My dad was happy with me.

Around this time we got our first dog. My dad told me that if she ever shits on the streets, I should kick her. So I did, thinking it was the right thing to do.

My dad got more and more abusive these times. He blamed us every time he lost something. Usually his fault. He belittled us constantly. He’d hit us. He’d turn us against each other. His verbal and mental attacks hurt us, but I think the fact he never told us he loved us, complimented us or told us he was proud of us hurt the most. I think this caused me to look for confirmation and attention in my later life.

When I was 9, my school issued an IQ test for me. My IQ turned out to be 140, meaning I am highly intelligent.

Around this time the first signs of a possible future addiction showed. I’d read books until 2 AM every night.

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Lees met inresse je verhaal, maak je het nog af?

Ik ga er vanmiddag mee verder :smiley:

The story of my life 2/?
When I was 9, the bullying started at school. Kids from lower grades started making fun of me. Until I beat one of them to the ground and pinched another kid in the balls. (Recalling this makes me cringe so hard :confounded:.)When I was 10, all other kids in my grade started “growing up”, but I didn’t. I was the odd one out and they noticed. They started leaving me out of parties, they made fun of my accent,(In The Netherlands there’s a new accent every 5 miles, including in Frysian, my native tongue. I speak fluent Dutch though, I was raised bilingual.) my former best friend became physically abusive. (The latter didn’t bother me a lot, my dad’s abuse hurt a lot more.) I think most of it was because they were jealous of my intelligence and because of my, then not yet diagnosed, autism. This caused me to have meltdowns in class. It was mostly in crying, but there was an occasion where I threw a bible at someone.

I forgot to mention this earlier, but I had a nemesis at school. I was friendly with the kid, but sometimes we’d mess around and I became enraged out of nowhere. All my rage from my dad abusing me needed an outlet and it became that kid. I wasn’t a good fighter so I luckily never really hurt him.

He was also nerdy and in my last two years of elementary, we became best friends. He was my ally during the bullying and he pulled me through those last years.

When I was 11 I decided to join the football (soccer) team in my town. The second I showed up, the bullying stopped in my hometown and I found great friends in people who had previously bullied me.

Around that time my dad bought an Ipad. I never played on it without permission. A little while later a got my first phone, which was only for gaming. This was the beginning of a new chapter. About a month after I got my phone I started playing on it until 3 am each night. Only a short while later my brother bought an Xbox with GTA V. Within a week I knew all cheats by heart. I think that if you put a controller in my hand now, I can spawn multiple cheats from muscle memory. I think I may still recall the cheat for spawning a buzzard: b,b,lb,b,b,b,lb,lt,rb,y,b,y. I digress.

When I went to high school from grade 8 to class 1 I moved yet again. I moved to Drachtstercompagnie where my parents bought a farm which they were planning on renovating into a care facility for physically handicapped people.

My high school was in Groningen which was 40 miles from my old school, so no people from that school followed. I followed TTO which is our highest level of education(VWO), but then in English.

I had a complete fresh start. New town, new school. It started off great actually. I quickly got a lot of friends both in my new hometown and at school. About a halfyear into class 1, they started roasting me as friends do. I did not have the social skills to understand it wasn’t serious and that it was friendly(Autism). I started balling on multiple occasions. (Autism) I became the outcast and soon the roasting became proper bullying. I became aggressive yet again. they found it hilarious and they terrorized me. One day I was forced to sit next to one of my “nicer” bullies on the bus and saw him playing a game on his phone. It seemed fun, so I downloaded it too. All of a sudden we bonded and we became best friends in weeks. I can credit about 90% of my social growth before rehab to him. He’s taught me that roasting can be friendly and I quickly became rather good at it. The bullying stopped for a while, but then my former best friend from the beginning of that school year started smoking weed and it changed him. I became his target for physical abuse. he’d kick me, choke me and hit me. I told him to stop kindly because I know that in his head he thought of it as friendly wrestling. One day I had enough and punched him in the nose on the bus home. He needed a lot of paper towels and to this day thinking about it still satisfies me. Don’t fuck with the quiet kid especially if he repeatedly tells you to stop. He got back at me a few minutes later by punching me in the head, but I was happy I won a battle in the war.

In my hometown, things took a turn quickly too. On January 15th 2016 I and my friends went to play in the snow since we had ice-free that day. We had a lot of fun until we walked into a group of 17-year-olds. They asked me if my brother was gay and I told them no. They started attacking me because I defended my brother. They threw ice-balls at my head, kicked me, punched me until I faked becoming unconscious. They saw right through it and kept kicking me while on the ground, but my faking becoming unconscious caught the eye of an elder gentlemen who told them fuck off and leave me alone. My brother was there and laughed at me. They never stopped calling him gay and he blamed me for it. He may be mentally ill, but he saw I stood up for him. He needed someone to blame for his illnesses causing people being dicks and it became me. I never helped him again when people made fun fo him when he embarrassed himself again. But the fact that my brother laughed at me whilst I was getting my ass kicked by 12 much stronger guys for defending him didn’t even hurt me most. What hurt me most was my dad chewing me out because I got beat up. He didn’t believe it was because I stood up for my brother. He was certain I was the offender and he let me know how disappointed he was in me.

The fact that the older guys picked on me made the other kids think of me as a prime target and soon I had no friends there.

Around June that year, the renovations started. I became my dad’s slave. I put over 1000 hours of labour into the renovations but didn’t get paid a penny. My addiction really started those days. I wanted to game rather than “help” my dad and I’d tell him I didn’t want to help. Every time he layed into me so harshly I would cry uncontrollably. One day, when there were about 20 construction workers I personally knew, my dad laid into me again. I started crying. He grabbed a chair, dragged me to it, forced me to sit on it in the middle of those construction workers whilst I was crying my eyes out. It was very humiliating. That day waas the day I lost my last shred of self esteem.

My native language isn’t English and in Dutch I already suck at writing. So please, if anyone has feedback as to how to clarify this story, do share it :smiley:

Your English was fine m8 it doesn’t require any clarification.
Personaly I despise the word junkie as its negative connotation surrounding it can make people feel as though they are the lowest of the low that the term suggests to many. I know that you don’t mean it in a nasty or derogatory way at all and maybe not everybody feels the same way about that word,just thought i,d let you know. :slight_smile:
And thanks for sharing your back story I know that it isn’t easy. :+1:

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Edited it, is this better?

Yeah,fyi it didn’t offend me or anything. It’s a term mostly used to describe heroin addicts,I didn’t think that’s what your friend would have been doing.
I only mentioned it as seeing it could possibly make a new member wary of staying here and I know you wouldn’t like to have any effect like that. :slight_smile:

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Sure wouldn’t, thanks for pointing it out

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Thanks for sharing :heart:
I don’t really have any words, all those kids that was mean to you made me so mad. Just as your Pa
I’m glad you’re here and that things are getting better for you each day.
I couldn’t really see something wrong with your English but as you know I’m multilingual as well.

Big hugs from Sweden.

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Same here, in the Swedish language we’ve got different words like that depending on what kind of substance the person is using. Unfortunately I haven’t yet found anything similar in English,so I’m using it too. And for me it isn’t offensive.

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Thanks for your kind words, I’ve ran out of likes, but :heart:

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That’s a very intense story man, thanks for sharing. Glad you’re here.

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Thanks :slightly_smiling_face:

That is a remarkable story. From what I’ve seen on here I know you’re very young and you have a gaming addiction. I could not stop reading your story. I didn’t think it would be a page turner. Your English is fine. I’m American so what to I know about English. When I first got on TS I thought it was going to be all about drugs and drinking. But when I learned you were a gaming addict I thought really?? I mean I do know addiction can come in more than drinking and drugs. Like sex and gambling and self harm. Now I can add gaming to the list. You’ve opened my eyes. And God Bless you being bullied so. I’m so sorry about your Dad being such a jerk. To put it mildly.
:pray:t2::heart:

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Wat ongelooflijk dapper om je verhaal zo te delen . Wat een ellende zeg .

Wens je vandaag een mooie dag , ook al wordt het bloedheet :hot_face:

:rose:

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Sterk om zo te delen ! Ik hoop dat het je iets helpt en dat je ook lokaal hulp kan vinden! Praat met mensen die je kan vertrouwen en weet dat er betere tijden aan gaan komen. Misschien iets raar om te delen, maar toen ik vroeger ineens gepest en geslagen werd na het wisselen van school ( op mijn 13e van 1vwo naar 2 mavo …) ben ik direct op thai box en op jiu jitsu gegaan. Goed als uitlaat, goed voor de agressie en goed voor de eerste keer dat ik 3 man uit het 3e in elkaar sloeg na een jaar trainen… sinds toen alleen maar respect ontvangen op die school… veel succes deze dagen!

Mijn leven heeft in de laatste 4 jaar een grote ommekeer gemaakt. Ik heb veel vrienden en weinig mensen die me niet mogen. Ik en mijn vader hebben nu een goede band na hem een paar jaar niet te zien. Hij ziet al zijn fouten in. Kortom, ik heb de tijd van mijn leven. Er zijn bijna geen negatieve dingen meer in mijn leven

Dat heeft heel goed gevoeld zeker?

Super, ik wist niet dat je al zo ver stond! Het leven kan zo mooi zijn he!
Ik ben er 41 inmiddels… al jaren geen last meer van wat andere mensen doen of zeggen.
We gaan elkaar nog wel zien hier denk ik… :wink:

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The story of my life 3/?
My dad became very aggressive during the renovations. I forgot to mention, but CPS had visited our house before. My dad never was physically aggressive since. My dad wasn’t physically aggressive anymore, but he needed an outlet. He always said he had no favourites, but I clearly was. He always wanted me around him. Since I was always around him I was his main target for the emotional abuse. He yelled at me constantly. He yelled at me for not being observant enough because I couldn’t find something I had never seen before. He yelled at me when I gave him the wrong toolbox. He had 50 toolboxes(he is a plumber/electrician) and his descriptions were very confusing. He yelled at me that my brother was smarter than me even though he is a retard(his words, not mine). I pissed my pants out of fear a lot when I was 13. I had no dignity, nor self-esteem. He had made me feel like a worthless piece of shit. I wanted to kill myself. I wrote multiple goodbye letters.

I was very close to killing myself when my dad told me my great-grandpa died. I could have said goodbye a few weeks earlier, but I wanted to game instead. I straight away went back to gaming. I couldn’t handle the pain. That evening my mom told me my nephew had killed himself the day prior. He had locked himself in a van with a gasoline lawnmower. He turned on the lawnmower so that he would die from the fumes. I was devastated. I had a period of depression afterwards. Right after my nephew killed himself, my sister made me promise to never kill myself. I think that promise has saved my life. I honestly do.

A short while after that I joined an English mathematics championship. I became 6th of the Netherlands with my group. I was very proud of myself. That championship ended my depression.

Around this time people in higher grades started bullying me. It often that I, a small kid, would hit a big senior who was being a dick to me or my friends. They’d kick my ass or hang me up by my feet, but I didn’t care as long as I defended myself. People started calling me a cancer whore(Here people swear a lot with illnesses), AIDS-retard, cancer-sufferer and much more. This hurt me a lot since I had a lot of friends and family with cancer.

One day my weed smoking former best friend decided to throw a cup of hot soup over a stray cat. I kicked his ass. Did I mention I looked a lot like him? Well, the older bullies started spreading the rumour that I threw soup over the cat, then they spread a rumour that I told them I would kick their ass, but when the time was there I ran. This wasn’t true, because I didn’t care how strong someone was, I was already happy if I could get one good kick in, I liked fighting. Then people started pushing me and poking me. With time this teasing luckily stopped.

A year after my participation in the mathematics championship I was allowed to participate again. I didn’t practice, nor did my teammates. We thought we were doing mediocre. During the entire championship, we compared our score with the group sitting next to us. We were doing a lot better than them. When they announced the top 3, they started at number 3. Then number 2. Number 2 turned out to be the group who we were comparing with. We became first of The Netherlands by a longshot. We were allowed to go to London next year. My dad implied he was proud of me, it was one of the happiest moments of my life.

A short while later, my mom told my dad she was gonna divorce him after he threatened her with a knife according to her(I now know that he didn’t actually threaten her with a knife. He had a knife in his pocket while threatening her.). My father broke down. He eventually walked away. We thought he had killed himself. I searched for him for hours. Despite the fact I feared him, I loved him. I looked in all ditches in the area. I looked at all trees I saw. After a few hours, he turned up at my uncle’s place.