The treatments of psychiatry are getting more and more ridiclous. And more and more people are calling them out on it. HERE (and another site which basically says depression is a mirage and its due to peoples' self-esteem and there inability to cope with change). I don't agree with this since obviously the person that wrote this has put up an defense mechanism, and an overgeneralizion of this malaise. However, how can I argue against what he says? There are no tests for depression, albeit, they can scan your brain and find abnormal features. This abnormal features, however, are not a conclusive diagnosis of depression.
It's like I'm in limbo. I can not prove I have depression, yet I can not disprove it. And there is where the loophole comes in. Skeptics of major depression feed on this but most probably don't know any kinda of scientific findings I sited. So, I feel they draw from their experience and just say "theres the strong-minded and the weak-minded." Another point I want to make is even in the psychology and psychiatry fields there are skeptics. So, how could some outsider expect to know depression is real when the experts are ignorant as well?
I just know that in an argument there is always an ignorant party. Thus, there would be no argument. Obviously, the guy that wrote the piece has suffered some type of depression. So, he contends that he has manage to beat depression so why can't the world? This is just a speculation on my part because before "the beast" hit me I've had those bouts of depression and beat them. Subsequently, I had the same opinion as him. So, I can not blame someone that is ignorant of the subject.
While I suffer from insomnia, anxiety, depression, sucidial thoughts, no relationships, agorphobia, and no ambition I grapple with the idea of is depression real? Why can't I snap out of it? I've tried my damnest to break out of it to no avail. So while the majority of people disregard the fact depression is real, I suffer the pain that people could think that. However, this does not really bother me that much because I'm just trying to make it through the day.
In summary, One day we will find the cause of this malaise and I will rejoice. Wow, that was a postive comment from a depressed person. Nahh it's called hope and one day there will be a real treatment for the beast.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
To PSYCHOSURGERY.ORG about DBS
HI,
Look at these videos and it will explain what major depression is. Since you have zero clue on it.
And excercise and taking ginko blogo is almost laughable. (as the editors of this site claim)
HERE
HERE
Or HERE... the website
I'm gone now I need to get my light therapy on (which is for S.A.D. for the ignorant people). Its great!!!
Look at these videos and it will explain what major depression is. Since you have zero clue on it.
And excercise and taking ginko blogo is almost laughable. (as the editors of this site claim)
HERE
HERE
Or HERE... the website
I'm gone now I need to get my light therapy on (which is for S.A.D. for the ignorant people). Its great!!!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Response to SueK on DBS.
I recently found a post by SueK about DBS here. It aroused my interests that I had to speak out and here is my response.
In the first paragraph of your argument I agree that psychiatrists use tricky jargon and misleading statistics. I would just say to you there are really no answers or cures for mental illnesses. (But there is mounting evidence) In this regard they have to convey some type of answer or treatment. They argue 70-90 percent of people with depression recovers or does better. This is very misleading. They forget to tell you they chalk a success if your symptoms are reduced by 50%. The real success rate of current treatments are 33 to 50 percent. I believe its fraudalant to inflate success rate numbers, yet it’s better than 0%. In addition, these numbers come more from pharmaceuticals that want to make a huge profit on the world.
“Psychiatrists use the stigmatizing term "last resort" to marginalize ECT patients and shift responsibility for treatment from themselves to the patients.”
I must say I disagree with this; you basically are condemning psychiatrists that want to help. If anything is stigmatizing it is society, such as you, not psychiatry. People believe that depression is an individual flaw, yet that’s far from the truth. There are thousands of studies to contradict this uninformed notion. Moreover, it seems, in your opinion, you would send someone mentally ill to the wolves. What do you expect someone treating a person with a debilitating illness to do? Sit idle and ask the spirits to heal them? You underestimate the epidemic of depression. There are so many flaws in your statement it’s really not worth further discussion.
“And just how do you decide who is the "sickest of the sick" in the absence of any biological tests for mental illness?”
True there are no biological tests, yet there are significant brain shrinkage in people who suffer from depression. (Once again, post back if you want to see the studies) Additionally, in MRI, and f MRI scans there is over activity in certain regions of the brain. Finally, the sickest of the sick is when an individually conveys life is not worth living anymore. Certainly, that is a good enough indicator to decide if your sick.
“A more cautious look at DBS is taken by American neurologist Joseph H Friedman in an article he wrote last year about the comeback of psychosurgery in the form of DBS:”
"...the lobotomy procedure represents a terrible, dark stain on the history of modern medicine which those of us involved in brain medicine must never forget. This "cure" for schizophrenia demonstrates what may happen when a converted few lose objectivity and a host of willing believers subvert their disbelief in the hopes that their own eyes deceived them."
HERE IS FRIEDMAN'S ARTICLE
The introduction to your quote of Friedman is misleading. You take this quote out of context. Friedman is only stating the history of lobotomies; he is not equating lobotomies to DBS. Also, you mislead by saying “a more cautious look at DBS”. Again you are scotch taping his words to make your argument sufficient. In fact, when he writes about the, “comeback of psychosurgery in the form of DBS”, you fail to leave out this comes from the first paragraph of his commentary; which actually states, “DBS is wonderful example of progress”.
Although, he continues in his first paragraph that “it’s a substantial implicit threat”. The reason he thinks this is stated at the end of his commentary. He basically is worried about the ethics of DBS if it is successful. For example, should we obtain DBS for every disorder imaginable to cure us? However, this is not your argument so I’ll leave it at that.
In addition, DBS is not a lobotomy it is brain surgery. A lobotomy is when there is actual cutting or destroying the tissue of the brain. In DBS there is no cutting or destroying of brain tissue. It is simply an electrode that emits a pulse to slow down the over activity of the area of the brain called broadman 25.
And another distinct difference is DBS is reversible, lobotomies are permanent. Furthermore, when lobotomies started in the 1930’s there was basically very limited knowledge in what they were doing. DBS is back up by 15 years of PET, MRI, and thousands of research papers of the under and over activities of mental illnesses in the brain. (If you want to see the research simply post back and I’ll be more than happy to refer you to them).
In the first paragraph of your argument I agree that psychiatrists use tricky jargon and misleading statistics. I would just say to you there are really no answers or cures for mental illnesses. (But there is mounting evidence) In this regard they have to convey some type of answer or treatment. They argue 70-90 percent of people with depression recovers or does better. This is very misleading. They forget to tell you they chalk a success if your symptoms are reduced by 50%. The real success rate of current treatments are 33 to 50 percent. I believe its fraudalant to inflate success rate numbers, yet it’s better than 0%. In addition, these numbers come more from pharmaceuticals that want to make a huge profit on the world.
“Psychiatrists use the stigmatizing term "last resort" to marginalize ECT patients and shift responsibility for treatment from themselves to the patients.”
I must say I disagree with this; you basically are condemning psychiatrists that want to help. If anything is stigmatizing it is society, such as you, not psychiatry. People believe that depression is an individual flaw, yet that’s far from the truth. There are thousands of studies to contradict this uninformed notion. Moreover, it seems, in your opinion, you would send someone mentally ill to the wolves. What do you expect someone treating a person with a debilitating illness to do? Sit idle and ask the spirits to heal them? You underestimate the epidemic of depression. There are so many flaws in your statement it’s really not worth further discussion.
“And just how do you decide who is the "sickest of the sick" in the absence of any biological tests for mental illness?”
True there are no biological tests, yet there are significant brain shrinkage in people who suffer from depression. (Once again, post back if you want to see the studies) Additionally, in MRI, and f MRI scans there is over activity in certain regions of the brain. Finally, the sickest of the sick is when an individually conveys life is not worth living anymore. Certainly, that is a good enough indicator to decide if your sick.
“A more cautious look at DBS is taken by American neurologist Joseph H Friedman in an article he wrote last year about the comeback of psychosurgery in the form of DBS:”
"...the lobotomy procedure represents a terrible, dark stain on the history of modern medicine which those of us involved in brain medicine must never forget. This "cure" for schizophrenia demonstrates what may happen when a converted few lose objectivity and a host of willing believers subvert their disbelief in the hopes that their own eyes deceived them."
HERE IS FRIEDMAN'S ARTICLE
The introduction to your quote of Friedman is misleading. You take this quote out of context. Friedman is only stating the history of lobotomies; he is not equating lobotomies to DBS. Also, you mislead by saying “a more cautious look at DBS”. Again you are scotch taping his words to make your argument sufficient. In fact, when he writes about the, “comeback of psychosurgery in the form of DBS”, you fail to leave out this comes from the first paragraph of his commentary; which actually states, “DBS is wonderful example of progress”.
Although, he continues in his first paragraph that “it’s a substantial implicit threat”. The reason he thinks this is stated at the end of his commentary. He basically is worried about the ethics of DBS if it is successful. For example, should we obtain DBS for every disorder imaginable to cure us? However, this is not your argument so I’ll leave it at that.
In addition, DBS is not a lobotomy it is brain surgery. A lobotomy is when there is actual cutting or destroying the tissue of the brain. In DBS there is no cutting or destroying of brain tissue. It is simply an electrode that emits a pulse to slow down the over activity of the area of the brain called broadman 25.
And another distinct difference is DBS is reversible, lobotomies are permanent. Furthermore, when lobotomies started in the 1930’s there was basically very limited knowledge in what they were doing. DBS is back up by 15 years of PET, MRI, and thousands of research papers of the under and over activities of mental illnesses in the brain. (If you want to see the research simply post back and I’ll be more than happy to refer you to them).
Thursday, February 02, 2006
My Treatment
After the visit to my medical doctor, I went to a psychologist. When I went in I was very nervous, because I thought somehow she could read my mind. This scared me. After talking to her for a while, I couldn't hold my emotions any longer. I started to cry uncontrollably, this was the first and last time I let my emotions out with tears (to a professional). She was very kind and considerate. She told me that depression is all over the world. For example, she rationalized it by saying "who would not be depressed with all the wars, and terrible things happening in the news. " I agreed and for some reason I felt this had nothing much to do about me. I saw her for a couple of months but I was not getting any better. Moreover, she would basically say the same thing every time I came in. It was obvious my depression was not lifting due to talking to someone. Anyway, psychotherapy is the same as talking to a good friend, except you have to pay for it.
Well over a couple of months I armed myself with books on Depression, and mental illness. This was huge because I finally felt knowledgeable about what I had. I now knew what to ask the psychiatrist and knowledge was a huge leap forward at getting better. So, when I finally went to my psychiatrist, it was the middle of 1998. I was happy and felt that finally I could get somewhere. When I went in we did a lot of psychological testing and had CT scans of my brain. I was overwhelmed with joy to finally know that this wasn't all in my head; it was actually a real disease. He prescribed me Prozac and I was so ready to get better. Overtime, we went through about 3 medications but nothing was helping. I was still going to college and was still struggling. Finally I dropped out sometime in 1999.(2 years)
I started to isolate my self because nothing was working. My Dad step in and said we have to go somewhere else and I agreed. So, I was hospitalized for 3 days. After being hospitalized, I was doing bad so I decided to have shock therapy.
This was the lowest point in my life. I had 9 treatments and had a spontaneous recovery after my 7th one. I had no depressed symptoms for about a week after all my treatments. After shock therapy did not work, I knew that I was out of options. I started to pray to God for help. I cried and begged him. Ultimately, nothing happen and I came to the conclusion there was no God. Of course there were other reasons I felt like this but this clinched it.
So from 1999-2003 I isolated myself in my room. No friends, no dates, no exercise, and no life. I slept most of the day. Sleep was my only way out of this pain. However, when I would sleep and have terrible nightmares and wakeup to find myself in a worse nightmare. There was no running from this disease it is hell and I'm burning everyday.
Well one good thing that happen is I obtained Disability or SSI for my disease. This help immensely with financial situations. I was so glad the government lent me a hand. It was a battle in it's self to obtain it and I could write a book on just this experience. Yet, at the end of 2003 they took it away from me. I had a lengthy court battle, but some fucking way I prevailed. Finally, my next post will cover 2004-to the present.
Well over a couple of months I armed myself with books on Depression, and mental illness. This was huge because I finally felt knowledgeable about what I had. I now knew what to ask the psychiatrist and knowledge was a huge leap forward at getting better. So, when I finally went to my psychiatrist, it was the middle of 1998. I was happy and felt that finally I could get somewhere. When I went in we did a lot of psychological testing and had CT scans of my brain. I was overwhelmed with joy to finally know that this wasn't all in my head; it was actually a real disease. He prescribed me Prozac and I was so ready to get better. Overtime, we went through about 3 medications but nothing was helping. I was still going to college and was still struggling. Finally I dropped out sometime in 1999.(2 years)
I started to isolate my self because nothing was working. My Dad step in and said we have to go somewhere else and I agreed. So, I was hospitalized for 3 days. After being hospitalized, I was doing bad so I decided to have shock therapy.
This was the lowest point in my life. I had 9 treatments and had a spontaneous recovery after my 7th one. I had no depressed symptoms for about a week after all my treatments. After shock therapy did not work, I knew that I was out of options. I started to pray to God for help. I cried and begged him. Ultimately, nothing happen and I came to the conclusion there was no God. Of course there were other reasons I felt like this but this clinched it.
So from 1999-2003 I isolated myself in my room. No friends, no dates, no exercise, and no life. I slept most of the day. Sleep was my only way out of this pain. However, when I would sleep and have terrible nightmares and wakeup to find myself in a worse nightmare. There was no running from this disease it is hell and I'm burning everyday.
Well one good thing that happen is I obtained Disability or SSI for my disease. This help immensely with financial situations. I was so glad the government lent me a hand. It was a battle in it's self to obtain it and I could write a book on just this experience. Yet, at the end of 2003 they took it away from me. I had a lengthy court battle, but some fucking way I prevailed. Finally, my next post will cover 2004-to the present.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
The Day Depression Came
On August 1997 something happen to me. It was something I've never experienced or felt before. I was 18 at the time and was about to enter college. A couple of months before August me and my girlfriend had a nasty breakup. She had cheated on me with about 5 people; some were good friends of mine. Of course she didn’t do this in one night but over a couple of months. I had no idea of what was happening but when I finally found out it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was not faithful to her either, so I guess in some way I deserved it. After I found out I just started to obsess about how she had sex with them.(what happen, was it good, are they better than me, and does she love me anymore) I always had control of our relationship, but this changed and it broke me. I tried to get her back, but I couldn't get the thoughts of her having sex with others out of my head. We did get back together a couple of times, but it was so unhealthy and the ruminating thoughts would not cease. So, all in all, she called it off and I was devastated. Furthermore, when we broke it off, I still could not get the thoughts to cease.
The weird thing about this is I have had bad breakups before, but this one seem to hover over me. So after months and months of thinking of this girl August of 1997 finally came. I was still down about this girl and all my friends were doing there best to get me out of this rut. So one night me and a couple of friends went out and drank and stuff. The next morning I had this horrible hangover. I chalked it up as just being a hangover, yet this thing would not lift. Finally after 2 weeks of feeling tired, anxious, depressed, and obsessing over ever little thing I was convinced there was something not right. So I went for about a month thinking I had some kind of disease (like cancer, aids). I went to the doctor and had all kinds of tests done and everything was perfectly normal.
Well suffice to say everything was not normal and I was feeling like I was going crazy. So, in September of 1997 I started college. It was the worst experience in my life. I was anxious every time I went to class. If someone would talk to me I would immediately have extreme anxiety. The anxiety got so bad I almost walk out of every class I attended. I tried my best to get through the day, yet I was fighting a no win situation. I had insomnia because of the obsessing thoughts I was having about going to class. Having no sleep really took a toll on me, and my grades. Yet I keep at it. A day seems like a year, and a month seemed like a eternity. My social life was going down the tubes as well. I started to make excuses to my friends so I didn’t have to face the anxiety of being around them. I started to feel they knew something was wrong. They were asking questions like "what’s wrong?", "why are you down?". I tried my best to answer their questions until the point I just quit being around them anymore. I got tired of them asking and couldn't hold back my emotions anymore. So, I just got away from them. Some of my friends took this badly, they thought I was avoiding them and some of them cut ties with me. To me this was just fine. It was just one less person to deal with.
My relationships with other people became no more. My love life was obsolete. And this continues to this day. I remember one day driving to class and looking out at some long uncut grass. I thought to myself I wish I was one of those blades of grass. The thing is grass doesn't have to do anything it just sways back and forth. It has no responsibilities, friends, feelings, and love. I knew then I had to do something. I had to go back to the doctor. It had been a year since my last visit, but this time I had to get answers. I was beginning to feel maybe this was just a part of getting older. Maybe this is what life is. So, with a year of suffering from these feelings I told my doctor there was just something not right with me. I continue to tell him about being depressed, anxious, obsessing, and having no sleep. This was probably the hardest thing I had to do. At 19, I felt I was a wussy for admitting these feelings and emotions. It took a year to get through my hard-head, that I had to tell my doctor these feelings. At the end of my session my doctor told me that the pollen in the air was probably causing all this. I couldn't believe it. So I left with this somewhat idiotic diagnosis. After this I started to think about suicide. I couldn't get it out of my head. The pain was so bad the only cure for this was to put a 45 to my head. Yet, I said to myself" I could never think about this" but it was always a thought. I thought I couldn't put my family through something like this. Furthermore, when my friend shot himself, I glanced back at the hurt of his actions. Although I don't blame him(my friend) for doing it. If his feelings were like mine, then it was definitely a viable choice.
In conclusion, I finally went to my doctor for a third visit. I emphatically requested something to ease the pain of all these symptoms. He finally relented and prescribed me Trazodone. Trazodone is a older anti-depressant and is more used for sleep. Over a couple of months my sleep improved dramatically [thank God]. However, all my anxiety, obsessing thoughts, suicide thinking, and depression did not relent. Also, he referred me to a psychologist. This will end my discussion on the pain of finally getting some kind of relief. The next phase of my depression was going to this psychologist and ultimately to a psychiatrist.
The weird thing about this is I have had bad breakups before, but this one seem to hover over me. So after months and months of thinking of this girl August of 1997 finally came. I was still down about this girl and all my friends were doing there best to get me out of this rut. So one night me and a couple of friends went out and drank and stuff. The next morning I had this horrible hangover. I chalked it up as just being a hangover, yet this thing would not lift. Finally after 2 weeks of feeling tired, anxious, depressed, and obsessing over ever little thing I was convinced there was something not right. So I went for about a month thinking I had some kind of disease (like cancer, aids). I went to the doctor and had all kinds of tests done and everything was perfectly normal.
Well suffice to say everything was not normal and I was feeling like I was going crazy. So, in September of 1997 I started college. It was the worst experience in my life. I was anxious every time I went to class. If someone would talk to me I would immediately have extreme anxiety. The anxiety got so bad I almost walk out of every class I attended. I tried my best to get through the day, yet I was fighting a no win situation. I had insomnia because of the obsessing thoughts I was having about going to class. Having no sleep really took a toll on me, and my grades. Yet I keep at it. A day seems like a year, and a month seemed like a eternity. My social life was going down the tubes as well. I started to make excuses to my friends so I didn’t have to face the anxiety of being around them. I started to feel they knew something was wrong. They were asking questions like "what’s wrong?", "why are you down?". I tried my best to answer their questions until the point I just quit being around them anymore. I got tired of them asking and couldn't hold back my emotions anymore. So, I just got away from them. Some of my friends took this badly, they thought I was avoiding them and some of them cut ties with me. To me this was just fine. It was just one less person to deal with.
My relationships with other people became no more. My love life was obsolete. And this continues to this day. I remember one day driving to class and looking out at some long uncut grass. I thought to myself I wish I was one of those blades of grass. The thing is grass doesn't have to do anything it just sways back and forth. It has no responsibilities, friends, feelings, and love. I knew then I had to do something. I had to go back to the doctor. It had been a year since my last visit, but this time I had to get answers. I was beginning to feel maybe this was just a part of getting older. Maybe this is what life is. So, with a year of suffering from these feelings I told my doctor there was just something not right with me. I continue to tell him about being depressed, anxious, obsessing, and having no sleep. This was probably the hardest thing I had to do. At 19, I felt I was a wussy for admitting these feelings and emotions. It took a year to get through my hard-head, that I had to tell my doctor these feelings. At the end of my session my doctor told me that the pollen in the air was probably causing all this. I couldn't believe it. So I left with this somewhat idiotic diagnosis. After this I started to think about suicide. I couldn't get it out of my head. The pain was so bad the only cure for this was to put a 45 to my head. Yet, I said to myself" I could never think about this" but it was always a thought. I thought I couldn't put my family through something like this. Furthermore, when my friend shot himself, I glanced back at the hurt of his actions. Although I don't blame him(my friend) for doing it. If his feelings were like mine, then it was definitely a viable choice.
In conclusion, I finally went to my doctor for a third visit. I emphatically requested something to ease the pain of all these symptoms. He finally relented and prescribed me Trazodone. Trazodone is a older anti-depressant and is more used for sleep. Over a couple of months my sleep improved dramatically [thank God]. However, all my anxiety, obsessing thoughts, suicide thinking, and depression did not relent. Also, he referred me to a psychologist. This will end my discussion on the pain of finally getting some kind of relief. The next phase of my depression was going to this psychologist and ultimately to a psychiatrist.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
My Upbringings
Hello, I'm not the best writer so I'm going to kind of free associate. I think this is the best way to get my ideas and feelings out. I will probably revise my thinking over time.
Anyway I was born Nov. 7, 1977 and I’m 28 years old. I went to a public school system where I graduated with a 2.9 GPA. Yes I just missed that 3.0. Anyway I’m not the brightest individual on the planet and this irks mean sometimes when someone is smarter than me. My IQ is around 100-120. Well after High school I went to college in 1997, where i majored in Environmental Science. I really didn’t know what i wanted to be. I chose this because my older brother did and I followed in his footsteps. However, my dad wanted me to get into engineering. I tried it for a couple of semesters but it didn’t seem to fit me well. And there are other reasons why I left engineering, but I'll talk about them later.
My parents are great, my Dad is a Engineer and my mom finds jobs here and there. Early in my life they were strict about me going out and about my schoolwork. Later on they let up, yet they worried about me all the time. I and my dad are kind of macho like. You know we show our love without hugs and kisses but by hitting on each other and wrestling around. I'm definitely a momma’s boy, I and she get along well but sometimes she can get on my nerves.
When I was in high school I had a very beautiful girlfriend. We went out for about 4 yrs but when graduated came, things went totally downhill. She moved away and things got ugly. We broke up around graduation because she gave me a choice. The choice she ask me was "Do you want me to stay or leave?" I didn’t answer because I felt like if she stayed I would be stuck with her. I was 18 and it was a tough choice and I just never answer her. She took it as "ok he doesn’t want me to stay" So she left.
Now In high school I was active in baseball and a lot of clubs. I never participated in the clubs, I just signed up so it would look good to colleges and resumes. I was an all-star baseball player, yet when I sat the bench for 2 yrs it took a huge gap from my confidence. I was never the same again, however, it doesn’t really matter that much today.
In high school, especially my JR. Sr., I was the top dog. I had all kinds of friends and I believe I was very popular. Yet I never felt comfortably in being in with the top people. They were backstabbers and really poor friend. I really stressed maximum loyalty from my friends. This was a disaster waiting to happen. Anyway, I went down to the not so popular crowd because they were real and I felt comfortable around them. They brought the best out of me. The big smile, the fact it didn’t matter if you messed up etc.. Also the best times of my life was going out with my friends a drinking and partying. It was Awesome.
I never had problems with my health, although, I jammed my verbrates when I was 12 and was in the hospital for 2 weeks. It was very tough, the pain was unbearable. Luckily, I came out of the injury in tip top shape. This experience was nothing to the one that was coming in the month of August 1997. The shadow of darkness would come in this month. I will talk about this later.
One other tragedy that happens with me was in May 31, 1995. My best friend Chris committed suicide, he was 20 (I was 16). I loved this guy so much; he was like my idol and mentor. I remember at the viewing when I saw him in the casket. I just busted out, spitting, crying. I could not believe my reaction. I put in my head that I would hold back the tears (macho man). Yet the extreme reality of the situation sent a bolt through me. It was unreal, and I’ve never felt something like that since then. It was like a unseen force knocking me down. Well I grieved for about a week and a half. And slowly but surely I was back to my normal self.
Summing up, I think high school was the best time of my life. For 18 yrs I was so happy and content. I had everything you could imagine. I had great parents, a great life, and great family. Yet, after Aug of 1997 an ominous cloud would creep in from hell. This will be my next topic.
Anyway I was born Nov. 7, 1977 and I’m 28 years old. I went to a public school system where I graduated with a 2.9 GPA. Yes I just missed that 3.0. Anyway I’m not the brightest individual on the planet and this irks mean sometimes when someone is smarter than me. My IQ is around 100-120. Well after High school I went to college in 1997, where i majored in Environmental Science. I really didn’t know what i wanted to be. I chose this because my older brother did and I followed in his footsteps. However, my dad wanted me to get into engineering. I tried it for a couple of semesters but it didn’t seem to fit me well. And there are other reasons why I left engineering, but I'll talk about them later.
My parents are great, my Dad is a Engineer and my mom finds jobs here and there. Early in my life they were strict about me going out and about my schoolwork. Later on they let up, yet they worried about me all the time. I and my dad are kind of macho like. You know we show our love without hugs and kisses but by hitting on each other and wrestling around. I'm definitely a momma’s boy, I and she get along well but sometimes she can get on my nerves.
When I was in high school I had a very beautiful girlfriend. We went out for about 4 yrs but when graduated came, things went totally downhill. She moved away and things got ugly. We broke up around graduation because she gave me a choice. The choice she ask me was "Do you want me to stay or leave?" I didn’t answer because I felt like if she stayed I would be stuck with her. I was 18 and it was a tough choice and I just never answer her. She took it as "ok he doesn’t want me to stay" So she left.
Now In high school I was active in baseball and a lot of clubs. I never participated in the clubs, I just signed up so it would look good to colleges and resumes. I was an all-star baseball player, yet when I sat the bench for 2 yrs it took a huge gap from my confidence. I was never the same again, however, it doesn’t really matter that much today.
In high school, especially my JR. Sr., I was the top dog. I had all kinds of friends and I believe I was very popular. Yet I never felt comfortably in being in with the top people. They were backstabbers and really poor friend. I really stressed maximum loyalty from my friends. This was a disaster waiting to happen. Anyway, I went down to the not so popular crowd because they were real and I felt comfortable around them. They brought the best out of me. The big smile, the fact it didn’t matter if you messed up etc.. Also the best times of my life was going out with my friends a drinking and partying. It was Awesome.
I never had problems with my health, although, I jammed my verbrates when I was 12 and was in the hospital for 2 weeks. It was very tough, the pain was unbearable. Luckily, I came out of the injury in tip top shape. This experience was nothing to the one that was coming in the month of August 1997. The shadow of darkness would come in this month. I will talk about this later.
One other tragedy that happens with me was in May 31, 1995. My best friend Chris committed suicide, he was 20 (I was 16). I loved this guy so much; he was like my idol and mentor. I remember at the viewing when I saw him in the casket. I just busted out, spitting, crying. I could not believe my reaction. I put in my head that I would hold back the tears (macho man). Yet the extreme reality of the situation sent a bolt through me. It was unreal, and I’ve never felt something like that since then. It was like a unseen force knocking me down. Well I grieved for about a week and a half. And slowly but surely I was back to my normal self.
Summing up, I think high school was the best time of my life. For 18 yrs I was so happy and content. I had everything you could imagine. I had great parents, a great life, and great family. Yet, after Aug of 1997 an ominous cloud would creep in from hell. This will be my next topic.
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