Prerequisite Classes

I turned 18 in May of 2003.
I was then, transformed from the “child” I was the day prior, into a “man”.
I was now an “adult”.
I was to go out into the world with my “savings” (that the group home I lived in had felt I was too “immature” to have in my possession… yesterday) and “be a grownup”.

Until this “milestone” day, I was “cared for” and “brought up” by my grandmother, a prescription opiate addict, and my mother, whom is diagnosed with “Disassociative Identity Disorder”.

When my grandmother died at 13, I was sent to live with, whomever could be approved in court. Bouncing from family member to family member until “Nobody wants you, Chris.” (-Karen Koerber/Barnes, Juvenile Probation Officer, Kokomo Indiana), I was sent to “R.T.C. Resource, Residential Treatment Center” in Plainfield, Indiana.

I was “court ordered” to “do therapy” as well as “take medication”.
Apparently, my mother trying to murder me when her other personality thought I was my father took some sort of toll on me mentally and I was “ordered” to discuss it.
If I took the medication(s), I was asleep within 30 mins.
If I slept through “therapy”, I was “refusing to participate”.
If I refused the “medication”, to stay awake, I was “refusing medication”.
Either, was a violation of the “court order” and the “institutional rules”.

Needless to say, I gained about 80 lbs and I “failed” the “program”.
When the “staff” tired of “5 point restraints” and overdosing me on antipsychotics (just about anything you’ve seen a “Class Action Settlement Suit” commercial for)
I was then sent to “Indiana Boys School”.

After 2 years of watching 100’s of angry, violent, masturbating youth try to kill each other because, well, it’s sort of all we were allowed to do. (“DeadMouth” Facility/No Talking Ever), I obtained a “G.E.D.” Diploma.

I was “6 months shy of” 18 and… apparently… with a “G.E.D.” in hand, was “rehabilitated”.

I was then sent to “George Junior Republic” Group Home in Gas City, Indiana.
After 6 months of working at “Taco Bell” and having my money “held” “for me” they gave it all to me in an envelope and dropped me off at my new apartment.

The point of all this is, never once did you read about the outcome of my choices.
You didn’t read where I went wrong.
That didn’t happen, obviously, until I was of age to be “imprisoned” and told that I must “Stop blaming everything on others.”

I do not believe I had a choice in my “upbringing”.
I was a “child” and no one listened to me.
Now, I am told my entire life has been due to my choices.

I did not even understand much of my youth until now.
Most of it I am still perplexed about.

However, I know that I am held responsible for it.
All of it.
All 31 years to date.

From the moment I arrived on this shitty spinning rock, I’ve lived in some sort of world where I am a social experiment and then punished for the unexpected results.

Sure the rat is ugly now. How did he sign a waiver for your shampoo experiment?

I’m afraid what I would wish to inflict upon the world if I ever took any of this “control” I am told I have.

Society has yet to pay it’s debt to me,
a man, who understands only, the “barter system”.

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