The Life Story Of Saint Grimm

Index:
Part one - Index and explanation.
Part two - Early Years
Part three - Abuse and Drug Use
Part four - The Saga of Timmy George
Part five - Becoming a Father
Part six - Survival
Part seven - Aftermath
Part eight - Some Pictures.​

Explanation​

This is a very long story, and it was a great venting process to type this all up.

I think this could be an interesting read for almost anyone... Its very long, as I tell about my life from early years, up until now, and I'm almost 21, so its a very long read, but I think most people will find it very interesting if they put in the time to read it.

I've posted something like this before, but I only concentrated on certain parts of my life in those posts and I went over a year with being perfectly happy and stable, but quiet often recently I've found myself in depression and other things like when I was younger, and it never really went away. It's something that comes and goes with me, I've had it go away for over 6 months, then come back, sometimes it comes and goes weekly, but this is the longest I went without a period of depression, and most of the time, the depression lasted as long as it had been away, so I fear I'm looking towards over a year straight of feeling this way.

But that isn't the point... I've been thinking alot about my past since I started dealing with depression again, so I thought I would just post a more in-depth story for everyone to either enjoy, feel sympathy for, mock, or whatever... I don't really have the energy to care at the moment.

Early Years​

So, I guess I'll start out where every story should, the beginning.

I was born August 8th 1992 in Moberly, Missouri hospital. My mom was a "biker chick" and my dad was and still is a rich redneck with "connections" as I like to call it.

Speaking of which, I'll go into a little detail about my father. As far as I can trace his ancestry, he is a mix of Norwegian and Germanic. His dad was some kind of city political person, I can't remember what my mom said he was, but he had alot of power on a county level. Infact, my mom told me a story about how my dad's dad burnt down his own building for insurance fraud, and was buddy-buddy with the fire-chief and got away with it. She also told me that my dad lived in his own fathers power. He hit a cop and broke his jaw, was in jail over night and that was it, never went to court, never charged with any crime. I don't really know my dad, my earliest memory to do with him was at his house and looking at a wall of pure glass looking out over a huge back yard... It's all I remember from that early in life, but I remember it was sectioned off in squares, like the wall was made of windows from the ceiling to the floor. To end talk of my dad here at the beginning, I did not see or have any contact with my dad since I was 3, then when I was 14, he took my mom to court to try and get child support lowered. He came to visit me, took me out to eat. Mom had told me that he was only doing it to look good for the court so he could get the child support lowered. He told me that it wasn't true and that as soon as the court was over we'd be seeing alot more of each other... He hasn't so much as called me since that day and I am almost 21 years old.

Since I was around 12, I've asked myself why he don't want to see me. He has quiet a few other kids that he has been in their life. He had a few kids before I was born, and 1 or 2 after my mom and him broke up, but I'm the only one that he pretends doesnt exist. He even let one of his kids live off him and smoke meth in his house until just a few years ago after he got clean and moved out of state. Another one of his kids he visits often in prison, where he is because he tried to sell drugs to an undercover cop. He even spends more time with his step-children than me. I've called him, but he never answers, and I've talked to his wife, that just tells me hes to busy to visit with me.

My mom, as I said, used to be a biker chick. I grew up at the bars in Moberly. My earliest memories on mom's side was sitting with her outside of Bud's Place at night with her friends bringing her drinks and talking/playing with me, like all people do with young children. My mom was adopted, and I was unable to trace her ancestry at all because of this, so I have no clue what I'm made up of except Norwegian and Germanic. When I was younger my mom liked heavy metal music and thats what I grew up listening to; Motley Crue, Poison, ZZ Top, Judas Priest, KISS, stuff like that.

I spent alot of time with my mom's adoptive parents. Most of my upbringing was by them. I was a normal kid in the things that I liked, but at the same time, I was destined to be who I am now... I enjoyed playing with the kids that lived around my grandparents' home. I stayed there usually every night during the week, because for awhile my mom worked the 1st shift at the factory, which meant she had to leave around 4:30am, so it was just easier for everyone if I stayed at grandma's house instead of them waking up that early, as well as me. When I was younger, I was spoiled rotten and babied ALOT. I never had to "clean my plate" or anything like that, but when I did act up, grandpa wasn't afraid to break a wooden yardstick on my ass.

The kids I enjoyed playing with bullied me alot, I was younger, I wasn't fat, but I wasn't athletic either, I didn't understand sports, the rules of sports, and they used that to make me always lose against them, or make fun of me because of it. But it was rare they would physically bully me, but it did happen sometimes.

At moms house though, I always had chores, atleast as far back as I can remember, helping clean, or doing dishes, helping with yard work, etc.

I remember mom had quiet a few boyfriends over the years. The earliest I can remember was Rick. He was a redneck too. Smoked weed all the time (at the time I didn't know it was weed) made me do things my mom didn't. Looking back now, even though I hated him for it, I think the things he made me do helped me alot. He used to make me do a certain number of pushups every day, and if I acted up, instead of spanking me, he made me do more pushups or help work on the farm (he had a farm). Which, to me was worse than being physically punished, because I was a chubby kid, that shit was hard for me to do. I remember one night, my grandma came to pick me up because he was being mean to me, I honestly can't remember what the situation was but I remember he was yelling really loud, and when I was younger yelling really "hurt" me. When grandma got there, she tried to come into the house (which was her mom's house, but after she passed me and mom moved in) and Rick wouldn't let her in the door, so she slapped him and he pushed her out the door and slammed it. She fell down about 5 concrete steps and busted her head open on the metal railing, which was alot because at this time, she was already around 70 years old I think. The cops said they couldn't arrest Rick without arresting her too, for slapping him. So mom just left him and after grandma got out of the hospital, everything went back to normal.

About 3 months after mom left Rick, we heard on the news how he was in jail for beating up his girlfriend at that time over a computer (she wouldn't get off of it or something like that.) So, I guess it was probably a good thing it ended when it did.

I remember other boyfriends my mom had, but I can't recall their faces or names... Except Darrel, and all I remember about him is that him and mom got in a fight one night, so she locked him out and he punched through the door's window. And I remember Chris, which came after my brother was born, he was a fun guy, but he was a free-loading prick too. He had all kinds of video games and stayed here most of the week, he didn't have a job and instead stayed at home with me and played video games all day and night. And I can't really remember what Steven looked like, Now that I think about it, I'm 99% sure she dated him BEFORE Rick. But I remember when him and my mom broke up, he said he was going to kill her, and a few weeks afterwards when she came home from work in the morning (she was on night shift, left at 9pm, got home around 7am) his car was parked outside of the house, so she called the cops, only to find out they had arrested him because he was sitting in his car with a shotgun outside of our house.

And Sean... My brother's dad. He was probably my favorite. There were times I was scared of him because he yelled alot too and he just kind of looked really scary...(I was only 7 years old.) He was in and out of jail all the time, when mom found out her birth control failed and she was pregnant, Sean was in prison for drunk driving. Not long after he got out, him and mom got in an arguement and he started throwing things across the room, so she called his parole officer and said he couldn't live there and I don't really know what happened to him after that, I do know that he is still in and out of prison quiet frequently.

Abuse and Drug Use​

My brother, Kyle, was born when I was 8, in 2000. It was around this time I started hanging out with an older kid, he was 14. Those days are like a blur. We would just sit on his front porch all day long from the time school was out, until I had to go home for bed. By the time I was 13, the routine hadn't changed much. We just sat on the porch, smokin cigarettes and gettin drunk all day long.

By the time I was 13, I wasnt just a normal kid anymore... I had long hair dyed black (my natural color is blonde) and wore all black clothes, usually stuff from hottopic, like TRIPP pants and band t shirts, shit like that. My mom had started dating again, for the first time since my brother's dad, and also the first time she got married since Steven. Bill was his name, and he was about as mean as they could get. He was a huge guy, probably around 6 foot 4, probably weighed over 300 pounds. Had a big beer belly and big muscles too. He was a redneck biker from hell, he even had the "saber tooth mustache" thing. He hated me. He was a redneck that had put his application in for the KKK and he didn't like "freaks" either. He was nice until they got married... After that, my name wasn't "Cody" it was "faggot" because I painted my nails black and wore eyeliner, and he was afraid to hit me with a fist. It was around this time I got the nickname "Grim" because everyone said I always looked mad at everything, like I could just kill everything around me. I called myself "Prince Grim". The smoking and drinking with Kyle wasn't because "its cool" anymore. It became about feeling numb. Getting away from everything. Being to fucked up to care if I was called names or hit. It was at this time I started smoking pot and cutting myself as well. One day, I can't remember what I did to make him mad, but he hit me, and I was so drunk that I just turned around and hit him back, as hard as I could and blood squirted out of his nose and he fell down on his ass. He looked over at my mom and said "are you gonna fuckin do something about this?" and she just looked away, so he got up, packed his shit up and left. Mom filed for divorce and we've only seen him once since, when he came around sucking up to everyone, especially me, to try and get mom back, but it didn't work and he's gone now.

Another thing that happened when I was 13, was the last time my mom told me she loved me. It wasn't long before she met Bill. And she just quit sayin it... When I would leave, or she would leave and I said "bye, love you" she would just say "bye". This still continues today, every night when she goes to work, I say "bye, love you" and she just replies with "bye".

Before I continue on, I'll tell you all about my brother... He disgusts me. His entire life he has had to do nothing. He turns 13 this year, and he hasn't "been outside to play" for probly over 3 years. All he does is sit around the house playing xbox. No one makes him do anything. He doesn't even have to clean his own room. Mom does it for him, but at the same time, shes getting old, and the factory has made her sore and doesnt have the energy or time to do alot, so his room only gets cleaned once every 6 months or so, and currently, theres plates on his floor, that have gotten so moldy, the mold has grown from the plate and is also on the floor. He's hit mom before, and she just let it go, but when she was in the shower I drug him out back and beat his ass, I don't give a fuck if I'm 8 years older than him and could hurt him really bad or not, quiet honestly, I do not have a relationship with my brother, we do not talk to each other, we rarely even stay in the same room as the other for longer than 5 minutes. My grandparents don't even punish him, they let him do whatever he wants. Why? Well one time, my grandpa told him he couldn't have a soda, it was to close to bed time, and he went and got a soda and opened it anyway, and my grandpa was about to spank him, but he told him if he did, he'd call the cops. My grandparents are SCARED to punish him. But lately, he's acted better around them, because when I hear them say that hes been acting up, I'll beat him and I've told him if he tried to call the cops I'll take the phone and beat him with it, hes never tried to call the cops on me. It pains me to live in a world where people can't discipline their kids without being arrested for child abuse. I'll spank my kids, and if they try to call the cops, I'll beat their ass with the telephone cord.

When I was 14, I developed a good friendship with my dealer. I went to his house and he smoked me up every single day. And when I had money, I just gave it to him, he'd give me bout half of what I paid for, and we'd smoke the other half. Thats just how it worked with us. It was also around this time I met the first girl I fell in love with. Her name was Bethany. We never really dated, but we were good friends and I was IN LOVE with this girl. I was also friends with one of her long-time friends that she had known literally since she was born. Me and her got really close, kissed, talked about being together alot, then that friend of ours, decided he wanted her, and said I was saying and doing all this other shit, and she believed him, and ended up getting with him. This is what brought on my phase of popping and snorting pain pills. There was a get together at this building one night, and I saw the too of them there. I got up and told him to stand up, I was gonna break his fuckin neck, then next thing I know, about 5 other people stand up and start talkin shit to me and I was pissed, I was fucked up on Vicodin and weed, I was ready to fight them all at once, and it took about 4 people to drag me outside and make me leave so I wouldn't go berserk.

That night, I was with Kyle and some of our other friends at a party, which was in an apartment that had a balcony and was on the 3rd floor. I stood on the railing looking down for a good 5 minutes, and I stepped off. But one of our friends, the guy throwing the party, Mac, caught me by the shirt and pulled me back up. I spent my entire summer between my dealers house and Mac's apartment, I dont think I spent a single moment sober all summer.

The Saga of Timmy George​

Not to long before my 15th birthday, I was walking home from my dealers house, and an old beat up, rusty, big body car pulled up next to me, the window came down just a crack and someone from inside called out "Get in". In those days, I didn't care what happened to me. I got in. In the passenger side, the one who had told me to get in, was a pretty big guy with a bright red mowhawk, he introduced himself to me as Timmy, and he introduced the man driving as his brother, Jerry. Jerry didn't look at all like Timmy. Timmy was a hardcore punk and Jerry kind of looked like a 70s porn star. He had long black hair and wore bell bottom jeans and a denim jacket all the time. They passed me a blunt and we drove around for awhile. They asked if I wanted to party, so we went back to Timmy's house and I met his wife and 2 kids, and then we smoked all night long.

I started hanging out with Timmy and Jerry every single day I could. They introduced me to cocaine. And after about 3 months he asked if I wanted to be a part of his family. I met his friends. A group of bikers and punks. There was chip, he was in his 50s, Adam was in his mid 30s, Big Joe was in his late 40s and Taylor, Joes daughter, was in her early 20s. I was the young one, the runt, but if I wanted in, I had to do what everyone else did. And I agreed, and all 5 men beat me to the ground. With blood pouring out of my nose like a waterfall, the so much blood in my mouth it was like I was drinking it, I stood up and I smiled. I had a real family. Timmy owned a run-down piece of shit building out in the country that we used for a party house every weekend. Skanky women and drugs all around. There were people that drove 40 or more miles every weekend just to be a part of our parties. And at the age of 15, I was sleeping with women twice my age. Every time we had a party, Timmy would pick out a woman and say "hey, my buddy here needs some pussy" and thats how it would happen. No matter who they were, if Timmy told someone at the party to do something, they did it.

The time went far to fast, and one day Timmy came by, high out of his mind on who knows what all kinda drugs. He gave me his 9mm and said "keep this safe til I get back". He wouldn't tell me what was going on, but later I found out that he had robbed a break time in Moberly with a big piece of wood that had railroad spikes and nails hammered through it. He got 50$ out of the cash register, about 18 bucks worth of beef jerky and 5 boxes of blunt wraps. And he was looking at 7 years for armed robbery. While he was in prison, we all kept doing what we needed to do. We left the cocaine at the drop off, and picked up the money the next day. Put 50% of profits back for Timmy and split the other 50% between ourselves. I was making more weekly at 16 than my mother was. And I was spending it foolishly. Expensive jewlery, video games, drugs, alcohol, I was making around 500$ in cash a week, and by the next payday, I didn't have a penny to my name.

Me and Taylor dated off and on ALOT during the time Timmy was in prison. We never slept together though. We were like best friends that would cuddle and makeout and just sit back and watch movies and get high as shit all day. About a month before Timmy's hearing for an early release (parole) Chip got a call from the people we sold our stuff to, and they said for about a month now, we had been a little bit light on the amount they were receiving, but it didn't matter much because they were still making profit, however, over time, more and more was missing and when they called Chip, the last deal had supposedly been about 3 grams light.

Timmy got out on parole after 3 years. I was 18. And the problem with the coke being short was immediately brought to his attention. I'm not exactly sure how he found out, but he found out that someone had learned the area was a drop-off point, and they had been going there and taking small bits of coke. I won't go into detail what happened afterwards, because Im pretty sure I could get into ALOT of trouble for it still today. But the next day, Timmy handed me a pair of bright red shoelaces for my boots and that put me at the top. The only people higher up than me, was Timmy and Chip.

A couple weeks after Timmy got released, Adam was in a bike wreck without his helmet on and died.

Timmy was like a brother and a father both to me. He looked after me, cared for me and protected me. I loved him. As far as I was concerned, we shared the same flesh and blood. I tried to do the same for him that he did for me, but he wouldn't let me. He wouldn't let me protect or look after him, and even though I begged him for 2 days straight, he broke his parole to leave state and go back to California to see his mom and dad as well and try to open new gateways for us to make money. He promised me he would be back in 1 week, and him and Chip rode off.

2 weeks went by and no one had heard from him and no one could get ahold of him or Chip. After about 3 weeks, Jerry called me and said him and Chip were both dead. And he was leaving Missouri for the funeral and he didn't know if he'd be back or if he was staying with their parents. I dropped the phone and broke into tears. I felt betrayed and wronged, I was sad, but I was also angry at him for leaving. Chip and Timmy were shot down during a bad drug deal, the cops named it gang violence and that was the end of the investigation. No one was ever arrested.

Not long after, Big Joe said he didn't want to stay around here anymore, said all this town brings is bad luck and dead friends. He moved back to Alabama and took Taylor with him. Not to long afterwards, Taylor got married and moved to New York City with her new husband and it seems that I've lost touch with all of them... Taylor got on facebook last year and said her and jake were planning to come back to missouri to visit, but she hasn't logged into facebook since then. Joe called me not to long before that to see how I was doin. But thats it. I don't have a mohawk anymore, I rarely wear my skinny jeans, but my doc martin combat boots are still laced with the laces Timmy gave me. I got a tattoo on my right shoulder that goes from the shoulder almost to my elbow. It's a skull with a mohawk, above the skull it says "R.I.P." and underneath it, it says "Timmy George 1981 - 2010"

Becoming a Father​

I felt it was important to tell the entire "Timmy Saga" together, but now, I'll go back to when I was 17... I met a girl at a party, your typical white trash, sleezy, skanky, trailer park bitch. We got together, and I should have known it was bad news when on the first weekend, her "brother" came to see her, who wasn't her brother, but someone that wanted in her pants and ended up causing an all out brawl in her trailer after he walked into her room and kicked me in the back while I was on her bed.

We fought alot, but we stayed together. She got pregnant. And wasn't sure if it was mine... This caused alot of problems, and after a couple more months, I couldn't stand her. I stayed incase the kid was mine, but I was drinking from the time I woke up, until the time I went to bed every single day. I hated my life, even when I was drunk, I was miserable. She started claiming to cheat on me every weekend, when I came back to my mom's house to visit for the weekend. Eventually, I refused to sleep with her. I didn't want anything to do with her, I avoided her at all times, if she came into the room, I'd get up and go to a different room. One night I went out chip and joe and adam to get drunk, she wanted to know when I'd be home, I said around 9, I got home at 9 30... She said "who you been out fuckin?!" I said "I aint dealin with your shit, I'm goin to bed" and I was to fucked up to realize, she was holding a monkey wrench. And when I walked past her, she lifted it up and slammed it down on the top of my head, I fell down and rolled over, I wasn't sure what the fuck happened. I didn't feel myself get hit, I just felt heat on the top of my head, like my hair was on fire or something. When I rolled over on my back, she got over me and was about to slam the wrench down on my face, so I punched her in the face and broke her nose and split both her lips open, got up and walked 5 miles to the hospital to get staples in my head, and when I walked back out into the waiting room, the cops were waiting for me and arrested me for domestic violence. I got bailed out and stayed with a friend for awhile, until the court date, and she dropped all of the charges and I went back home with her.

I started having dreams every single night about dismembering her. Cutting her up into little pieces. Every night I killed her in my sleep. Every night it was in a different way. Every night got more and more morbid. I started being sick alot... Alot of people told me it sounded like one of the cases where the dad gets the morning sickness. Finally, after losing about 10 pounds, I went to the doctor, they did tests, told me that I had a stress Ulcer in my stomach, and if I kept drinking, it could burst and kill me. I didn't stop drinking. It was the only way I could survive without killing that bitch. So I kept drinking, hoping that when it did burst, it would atleast be a quick death. About 2 months went by and I was still alive, I was puking less. I went to the doctor, he did the tests, the ulcer had magically disappeared... It seems like everytime I face a situation that could kill me, and I carelessly hope for the death, I survive. Maybe I was birthed into this world for a real reason... but I doubt it.

It wasn't long after this that I left her. At the point of the dreams I knew if I stayed I'd end up hurting the baby. At that time, it had been my longest relationship, 8 entire months of misery. After a couple weeks, she called and said she found some of my notebooks that had my art and lyrics in them and if I wanted em, I needed to come get em. I was with Kyle when I got the call, so he took me to get my shit. When we got there, she handed me the notebooks and I got back in the car, but then her sister got between me and the door and started cussing at me, so I warned her to fuckin move before she got hurt, and she didn't so I grabbed the door handle and started slamming it over and over, harder each time until I could hear her head banging against the car, and she jumped into the car on my lap and slapped me, he knees were on my legs, so I couldn't reach my knife, but Kyle had one in the center console and I grabbed it, flicked it open and aimed straight for the heart, but Kyle managed to grab my hand just in time and the knife just took a chunk out of her boob, she screamed, I shoved her out of the car and we drove off.

My daughter was born on January 30th, 2010. Just a couple of days before Timmy got out of prison. Kelly didn't even call, her current boyfriend called me because he felt that I had a right to know she was born.

I met my wife on facebook through friends and we've been together since August 1st 2011, her names Bethany, but not the same Bethany from my teen years. In january of 2012, Kelly called me, and said if I would take her back, she'd bring Aiden (my daughter) back to Missouri and we could work things out. I wanted to see my kid, so I told her I would. I was there for Aiden's 1st birthday and Kelly kept trying to sleep with me, but I wouldn't because I had no intention of leaving Bethany. She even went as far as to sneak into the bathroom while I was taking a shower and jump into the shower with me, but I jumped out, got dressed and tried to ignore it.

After Aiden's first birthday, Kelly called me out on it and demanded I call Bethany and make it official I was leaving her, when I refused, she threatened to call the cops if I didn't leave, so I did and she went back to Kansas. I didn't see my daughter again until earlier this year, near her 3rd birthday. Kelly had heard I was going to try and take her to court for custody. She had already lost custody once, so she knew I would have an upper hand in court. She brought Aiden to my grandparents house and asked me to come visit, I did. Before she left, she invited me to Aiden's 3rd birthday, and said I could see her more often as long as I left court out of it. Right before her 3rd birthday, Kelly called and said if I showed up, she'd call the cops. So I havn't seen my daughter since.

I went to the court house and got the papers I needed to take her to court, but when I took them back, they wanted around 200 dollars for filing fees and service fees, so I gave up. I can't afford that, on a good week I only make 50 dollars a week. So I've completely given up on being in my daughters life.

Survival​

I will cover a few different times of my life in this section, as I didn't think it actually fit in anywhere in the above story, so this won't be in order, it will just be a random, so it won't go in order.

When I was 15, I dated a girl named Christine for a short period of time, during this time, she took a knife to me and cut the outside of my left hand to the bone. I never went to the hospital and a huge scar remains today.

When I was 18, after Timmy died and everyone else left, I started hanging out with a "gangsta" kid and we started selling weed together. We never did it for profit. He could get an ounce for 50$, we would sell half for 50$ and smoke the other half. I didn't really have anything to do with the dealing. He sold it to people he knew, got it from people he knew and I was just there as muscle, to make sure everything went good. One time, his cousin fronted us 5 ounces of purple kush and said he only needed to pay him the regular price when we got it sold ($50 an ounce, $250 total). We sold it $20 a gram and made his money back with a shitload left over, for 2 days, we didn't eat, we didn't sleep, we didn't talk. We sat on the floor of my bedroom, looking straight across the room at the other wall, passing blunts of kush back and forth for almost 48 hours.

One day, we couldn't get a ride to his cousin to pick up the weed, so we went through someone else, who gave us an ounce of spinach. About an hour before hand, I had smoked a sherm stick (a cigarette dipped in liquid PCP, dipping it in embalming fluid will kill you, dont me a dumbass, embalming fluid is a street name they gave to liquid PCP the real embalming fluid WILL kill you!) And went berserk. What PCP seems to do to me, is disconnect my brain from my body. I dont have physical control, Its like I'm sitting there watching a movie. I chased the car on foot all the way back to where they went, and pulled out my knife, the two guys freaked out and threw the money at my partner, apologizing, I was literally seeing red and I yelled "no, someones gettin fucked up!!" and one of the guys ran to the car and locked the other one out and wouldnt let him in, so he was cowering down on the other side of the car and I was slamming the palms of my hands against the car so hard it looked like it could seriously flip over and I was screaming about killing people. My partner grabbed me and tried to pull me, thats when I became aware and looked around and saw almost the entire neighborhood standing on their front lawns starring at me, so we took off running.

We stopped a couple blocks away and counted the cash, but it wasn't all there, so I said "Fuck it, I'mma kill these bitches" And I started walking back, but they saw me walking their way and got into their car and started to leave. I remember thinking "If they hit me, they'll have to stop, and if I'm alive they wont be for long" and I jumped out infront of the car and they hit me head on going around 20+ mph (thats my estimate). I grabbed onto the top of the hood near the windshield and just started at the driver and he looked like he'd seen a ghost. I felt my legs being sucked off the hood from the speed and didn't wanna get sucked under the car, so I threw myself off the car and rolled across the pavement. My left lef, from the knee down points inward, so the tips of my toes were pointing towards my other foot. My partner grabbed my foot and yanked on it until it made a loud pop and fixed the problem.

When I was 19, the person I referred to earlier as "my dealer" moved away with his kids and fiance. But All the time we had spent together, I felt a connection with his littler sister, Sarah. She was something like a little sister to me, as well as my new dealer. She could get any kind of weed you can think of. We hungout all the time. She never really sold pot, but like I said, anything from reggie to the name brand, she could get it.

About a year or so after I started hanging out with Sarah, her brother came back. But we never really got as close as we had been before, I spent most of my time riding around and getting high with Sarah, the only time me and him really hung out was when all of us smoked together.

In early 2012, I

Aftermath​

In February(2013) I took my GED test and passed. (I kind of forgot to mention I dropped out of highschool when I was 17). The GED class had a graduation ceremony on May 16th, I went and walked. I got my GED Certificate and had a pretty good time. My mom still works nights and said she couldn't stay any later than 8, which I could understand, but I walked across the stage at 7, and as I was walking off the stage, I just caught a glimpse of her walking out of the door. My grandparents and Bethany stayed and congratulated me, but thats been almost 24 hours and mom still hasn't said a word to me. I don't feel any different. I don't feel accomplished. Any more proud than I did before. I still cant find a "real" job that would pay enough to support me and Beth living on our own. So far, all the GED has done for me, was waste 50$ to take the test.

Some Pictures​

Christine Cut My hand to the Bone (just the scar)-


Kelly split my head open with a monkey wrench (also just the scar, blk&white pic to make it easier to see)-


Me and My weed selling partner before he moved out of state -


My hand and arm After I got hit by the car (I hit the road pretty hard) -



Me ate age 13 -


This was taken around the time Timmy got out-


Me & My wife-


How I look now-


GED Graduation -

 

I read the entire thing. Very heavy thread, I can't imagine what it has been like to live your life.

 

Finished reading your thread and i want to let you know that at this point you can move forward from the past man. One thing that ive learned is you are in this life to fulfill your own calling and i would suggest you write a list of things that people have told you, your experiences and pretty much every bad memory in your life or bad descision youve made and burn it. Thats all in the past now Grim, its quite the story and you know what man, let others learn from your experience that you are a living testimony that life gets tough but not to sound cheezy but theres always light at the end of the tunnel. I believe in you Grim and i hope that you leave all this in the past. You sound like a good man with a good heart that was dealt a bad hand of cards but you could either feel depressed or feel empowered to start something new.

I have been through depression, man, not knowing who i am, suicidal because death seems so peaceful but you know what, think of it this way Grim.

You have one life brother, once you kick the bucket all your feelings are gone emotions, worries, depression, everything is gone. If you are a religious man then you believe in the afterlife which is paradise, if not then you will just cease to exist.

Live this one life with happiness Grim. No one deserves what you've been through man, you deserve a lot better but sadly this world is so self centered that parents don't give their kids the confidence they deserve in order to succeed. You have this life man, you can't change the past but you can change your future. Pm me if you want to talk Grim, i truly enjoyed reading your story, hopefully one day you make a name for yourself so you can share this with the world. There are a lot of people that could benefit from this and i know you have good intentions.

 

At times I thought it was horrible, that there wasnt any easy way to live, but now that I've met Bethany things seem to be falling into place better.

If it wasnt for her, I never would have gotten my GED or anything.

 

Regarding Jobs:
Look on craigslist through jobs and man there are tons of odd jobs on there for a days work, it might even be a time to move out of your town. Join a military service such as the Navy and get paid to travel the world plus get your education when you get out. This life is too short and it pisses me off on all the crap you had to deal with. I truly feel for you man, i hope that you one day become a great success and look back and say, "I had it rough but thats what made me a man". All over kids grow up all screwed up and end up shooting up schools because no one had the time to listen to them and tell them it will be alright. Grim it will be alright i promise you. You getting your GED is one next step onto creating a life for yourself. There are so many fucked up people which decide to go cause crimes, hurt others, hurt animals, beat their wives and man you aren't a bad person, you are a great human being and reading all this shows that you just need to let it out because you've earned that. Keep strong brother and let me know if you need to talk or anything.

 

I wont join the military. I find that the government not only lies to them like they do to the general population, but they also send soldiers off to fight their battles. Its just something I dont believe in. If someone tried to invade my country, Yeah I'd be the first to sign up to fight. But with other shit, like the war in iraq, I believe that was over oil, Sadam Husane had nothing to do with Osama Binladen, Osama has been proven to be ex-CIA from here in america, I honestly believe it was all lies to get America more/cheaper oil. So yeah...

And thanks, I try not to be a bad person, sumtimes its hard tho! lol


But at the same time, I think you think good of me to easily. My morals are considered taboo often. I believe if a woman gives a man a good reason, he should hit her. Women say they want to be treated equally, they want the same pay as men, but none of the downside. I think if women truly want equality, they would want to be hit by a man in a situation where he would hit a man.

BUT, to all you women beaters who read this and think I'm one of you, I wouldn't hit a man because he didn't have my supper ready when I got home from work, or because he lost my favorite socks... So I wouldn't do so to a woman either.


Theres other things about my morals that make me a "bad" person in many peoples eyes, but I won't get into them on here.

 

I too read the whole thing...

Although I can't relate, I feel like I can sympathize with you-- especially on the part about your brother. I have a younger brother also and I feel like he gets "spoiled" by my parents all the time. We don't live together anymore and don't interact often since I'm in college, but yeah our relationship isn't what it used to be...Back in my younger years, he and I would get into serious (knives involved) fights all the time.

Anyways, thanks for sharing your life story with us on Sythe. It takes a lot of courage and gut to do that. Mad respect. I hope for the best and also that conditions improve for you. Best of luck! =)

 

thanks for the speech him, made me feel a bit tougher

Heads, I'm not sure if i should be thankful for you sympathizing, or feel upset, I've always been taught you shouldn't try to get sympathy, but I do feel kinda glad you said what you said. I'm sorry about your brother as well. And with me, its not such a big deal that hes more spoiled than I was and gets more things and etc, its the way he acts, he gets alot more, but hes not the least bit thankful and is rude to everyone all the time, which is why he dont play outside, no one likes him.

 

I didn't take it as you trying to get sympathy, that would be like writing a long story on how your life sucks and that your sorry for yourself. You just wrote about your life experiences which is venting and thats needed. Sometimes we just need to hang out with our friends, talk it out, and 420 it.

 

Emotional, but thanks for sharing it

 

Just finished reading this, I must admit its a hard read, although some parts of this felt like I was reading the story of my own life. But, what you should never underestimate is the strength you have inside, anyone who has been through what you have and comes out the other side is a strong person (no offence intended) but it sounds really tough.

Now, anyone with that mind of inner strength is a lot more powerful than many of the successful people I know. You have the opportunity to be anything you want to be still.
I've been depressed many times and from a young age too, but the thing that keeps me strong is the idea of progress in my life, it sounds stupid, but whether you are currently happy or not, if you are moving forward and making progress with your life then you can be sure that one day you'll be happier.
I know this all sounds kind of Cliche, but it's true, if you Want to be successful, you can put your mind to what your going to do and you can work your ass off for 20 hours a day 7 days a week. Do what you need to be happy and don't ever let anyone or anything stand in your way. Also, if you ever need to chat to someone who you can relate to, feel free to Pm me, I'll always be happy to help.

 

I read it all - and to be honest the main thing that went to my mind was gratitude for having an easier youth. I thank you for once again reminding me that not everyone has an easy life like me - and that all my problems mean nothing.

I wish you the best of luck, and even though life has treated you badly I hope you do not lose faith in yourself. I can tell you are a good man, don't give up. I'd say keep looking for a better job, get enough rest, and perhaps cut down a little on the drugs? I really wish you all the best man, I say this with all my heart. You'll get there, eventually.

 

thanks for sharing your story. not trying to judge really but you should go back to your ged graduation look rather than current look

 

I don't tie my beard up very often, I just liked that picture

 

Read the entire thing, made me realize how easy I have it.. hope you're able to get your life back on track.

 

Damn, interesting read. I skipped a lot of info and got to the intersting parts. $50 a week is unbelieveable.. as a kid around 18-20, i was making anywhere from 300-400 a week. If you joined the military, you get around 1k a month and free housing, insurance, all sorts of shit.

I was thinking of joining as well, get a job in computers where I support the troops in war or some shit.

 

Really deep read. I enjoyed it though, Good to see you have made it out of it all.

 

I'm tempted to pull your beard...

Good read though, from what be read so far anyway. I'm at work so I can't read it all at the moment
Everyone has to live a life and has bad times. Just some more than others

 

ah , it's really a long story. I will read the rest tomorrow. thx for sharing!