Charles' Story.
I have just turned 57 and am recently retired. My story actually starts at a very young age. I have 3 brothers the youngest only a baby when my parents went their separate ways. Well my mother was physically removed from the house by 2 men from a psychiatric hospital. I was about 6 at the time. I remember so many things but the account that seems to stay in memory was the fight between my dad and mom. She had a knife and was trying to stab him and he defended himself with a foot stool. Myself and my other 2 brothers were under a table rooting for our father. One other memory that I revisit now and then, amongst others, was somehow I got into a laxative which of course put me on the toilet. I somehow fell into a position where I could not get out and upon cries to my mother and remember her coming in and flushing the toilet and leaving. Of course now that I write this so many more memories which I try to forget seem to resurface. My brother had gotten into my mothers sleeping pills and apparently had consumed most of them. I remember trying to wake him. My mother was there but I don't recall her doing anything. My other brother and myself decided that we would fix our sleeping brother something to eat. That would surely help. Later I found that when my dad had come home my brother was rushed to the hospital and had his stomach pumped. He did escape death thanks to a very dedicated hospital team.
These are only a couple of memories typical of my life with my mom and dad. I was 6 when my dad left. I remember it so well. His brown Ford recently purchased. As I followed him out to the car he turned and told me to wait inside and that my grandparents would be down to pick me up. I waited and waited and no one came. So I walked to my grandparents house which wasn't that far away. I was to find out that my youngest brother was already there. He was only a baby. My other 2 brothers had gone to live with my Aunt and Uncle.
I stayed with my Grandparents until I was 15. It was a happy time in life but as they had already raised one set of children there wasn't much time for us. At age 15 my Dad had come back to visit with my stepmother. It was decided that I would go with them. So I moved from a very small community to a large city where the high school population was twice that of my hometown. My Dad and Stepmother were both alcoholics. I began to dread dinner time where inevitably a fight would start over the most ridiculous things imaginable (there's no salt on the table... a window wasn't opened far enough....etc). Sometimes the dinner table was overturned. My dad wanted me to go into the Navy which I did. I enlisted.
At that point in my life I had no direction. I was a survivor in the most basic terms. I was living day to day. When I enlisted this would prove to be my first mistake. I was incapable of meeting the rigours of military life. No matter how hard I tried I always found myself in trouble. In retrospect I feel my failure in the service was due to emotional immaturity so much so that I wasn't able to connect with any person around me. I didn't know what was expected of me because I couldn't make a connection with anyone. The end result was that I was in so much trouble I was about to be court marshalled. It was then while awaiting court marshal the brig commander noticed the artwork (animals ..etc) made out of toilet paper in my cell and recommended a psychiatric review. My diagnosis was chronic paranoid schizophrenia. I was hospitalized for about a year then transferred to a veterans hospital. My dad visited me their since it was customary to assign a patient near a relative. I was released to his custody after going before a review board. Very little was said. I do remember one board member saying to me that I could go out and join the rest of the neurotics. I was placed on the temporary disability retired list. I stayed with my dad and stepmother for a while before returning to my hometown.
I worked in a factory for a year and then moved back to California where I attended a Junior College. Two years there and three at a state college proved fruitless. I had changed majors several times. Engineering to Mathematics to Anthropology and finally the last year I enrolled in school but did not attend. Yes. I enrolled in classes but didn't attend them. This led to academic dismissal. In retrospect on those years I have to ask the same question. What was the plan? Well...there was none. I was day to day doing the only thing I knew how to do. Survive. My friends....superficial at best. Once again in retrospect I did not know how to make a connection. I talked to very few people. I certainly didn't discuss my plans with a counsellor. Well....what was there to discuss? Maybe that's why I wasn't able to discuss one because there really wasn't one and along with the fact that one has to be able to make a connection with someone in order to get help.
At this time the Navy wanted to do a reevaluation of my mental health. I remember having to go in for an interview. Later I was turned down a disability award of 100%. The Navy removed me from the disability retirement list and issued an Honorable Discharge.
My dad was able to get me into an industry that provided a paycheck for thirty years. I am married, have a family and at this point in time am trying to find a balance.... a centre in my life. Most people don't get a chance to do what they want to do in life. Most have to settle. I stayed in a job that I hated and I did that for thirty years. I still had no plan. I still am not able to connect with people. Going through the motions and superficial conversation I do not feel is making a connection. I really have no friends.... and I know why. I am where I am at today and I know why. I entered into a marriage for all the wrong reasons... and I know why.
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