My Struggles With Alcohol, Drugs, Bullying, Depression & Suicide Part 1

Part 1
Introduction and Early Years


I have a story I'd like to share with you. I'm 35 and I'm from Cleveland. I have been keeping a secret from everyone, including myself. I chose to not share it with anybody because I didn't want to have people feel sorry for me.  Many people, including myself, feel less than human when it concerns certain health issues. The recent death of Robin Williams shocked and surprised us. "He seemed fine", we all thought. But in reality, he was wearing a mask. He had personal struggles that no one knew about and chose to take his own life. I wore that mask as well. Nobody ever knew the inner demons I was battling because of the shame that accompanies mental illness. It is a health crisis that needs to be addressed.

In sharing my story, I want to remind you that I am not telling it because I am seeking sympathy or attention. If my story can help someone who is going through this seek help, my mission will be accomplished. It is nothing to be ashamed of and it is not your fault. Our society needs to stop stigmatizing people with mental illness and be more aware of the problem. We as a society also need to make help more readily available for ALL people. It is a disease just like cancer, heart disease and many others. We need to have people become more aware and passionate about mental illness like they are about other diseases. I feel if we do this, we can reduce suicide, substance and violence.

My story began in the late 1970s. My father left soon after he found out my mom was pregnant. My grandparents were supportive and helped out when needed. My early childhood was normal until my mom became pregnant again. I started acting out and become a hypochondriac. Before a vacation one day, I had my first anxiety attack. I became short of breath and my body was tingling. Shortly after that I began therapy. I was only six years old.

Therapy lasted about 5 years. It was helpful to an extent. I was still afraid to touch things in fear of getting sick, but I managed to live a relatively normal life. I had a lot of friends and I enjoyed playing baseball. I was a happy young kid growing up in the 80's.

That lasted until seventh grade. We didn't have a lot of money and my school clothes came from Kmart and other discount department stores. I became isolated and I was frequently bulled because I had red hair, glasses and cheap clothes. All of my friends in elementary school chose to avoid me. I felt sadness and despair for the first time in my life.

Things got worse in eighth grade. I was small for my age, so I was targeted on a daily basis. I would be shoved in lockers, called hurtful names, beat up and spit on daily. My mom urged me to fight back, so one day I did. I ended up getting jumped by 4 kids in the locker room after gym class. It was humiliating. My mom came to the school and she was seen by some of my classmates. The name calling intensified. I wanted to transfer but they said that couldn't happen.

I became the "joke" of the school. The kids came up with a prank to pull on me. They gave me a letter that was supposedly written by a girl who said she liked me and wanted me to meet her at a school dance. I was nervous yet excited. After all, a girl liked me, right? When I got there, they were standing where "she" said to meet her, laughing and pointing fingers. I was broken. I called my mom and she picked me up. She tried to console me but I got very angry. I didn't want her sympathy, or anyone's for that matter.

I hated myself and I wanted to die, but I was too afraid of doing it. I became fascinated with hanging, so I spent hours making nooses in my room. I never told anyone about it because I was afraid they would think I was crazy. I was living in my own personal hell.

My Struggle With Alcohol, Drugs, Bullying, Depression & Suicide Part 2

Part 2
High School

Ninth grade was even worse than the previous two years. The name calling and physical attacks were more brutal than before. Every day I felt like I was in danger. I would hide in the library during lunch because I had nobody to sit with. I was embarrassed by the fact that I had not one single friend in a school of roughly 1000. I would wait after school until everyone left to catch the RTA bus home. I didn't want to be seen as a loser by others even though I already had that reputation.  I came home with bruises all over and torn shirts. I lied to my parents and said I was playing football with my (non-existent) friends.

The bullies were clever about what they did to me. None of my teachers ever witnessed me being bullied because they did things when the teacher was either out of the room or they had their back turned to the class. My mom knew something was wrong so they had a conference about my grades going down the toilet. I was asked about problems with others and I flat out lied and said that my advanced level classes were too hard.

Back then bullying wasn't considered a big issue as it is today. To them it was a normal part of growing up. Since there was no proof of my being bullied there wasn't much they could do.  And I wasn't going to snitch on anyone because it would make things worse. They changed my advanced classes to regular ones hoping they would be easier to understand.

The most brutal part about that year was that some kids dared me to kill myself.  "Just do it! You're a loser nobody will miss you if you're dead".  I actually believed what they said. Every day I thought about ending my life. No more suffering. No more humiliation. No more being an embarrassment. But for some reason, I never followed through. I had hope that one day it would get better. And to an extent, it did.

Before 9th grade started my best friend and I had a falling out.  But for some reason later that year we became friends again. He smoked cigarettes and at the time I did not. I thought if I started smoking, I would be one the cool kids. Surprisingly, it actually worked. I had a new group of friends, but I was still being bullied. When the group found out about this, they actually defended me. I felt that this friend, and smoking, saved my life.

As things were getting better, my mom got married and they decided to move. I was heartbroken. I had to go to a new school and probably be bullied again. I was scared. I didn't want to go, but I had no choice.

To put it bluntly, my stepfather was a jerk. He would bully me as bad as the kids in school. I never liked him because he would physically punish me for minor infractions. It was bad enough getting beat up in school. Having to deal with that at home was even worse. He forbade me from using a book bag because he said I needed to "take things like a man". Every day my books ended up scattered all over the ground in front of everybody. How embarrassing!! He was jealous of the relationship my mom and I had. My mother tried to do everything to make me happy, even if it meant being my friend instead of a parent. I don't blame her for it. She tried. She was the "cool mom". My first drink was the wine she bought for me and my friends.

When we finally moved, I was frightened. I had just got my social life under control then all of a sudden I'm in a different place. I was a junior when we moved. Once again, I was the outcast. My first year I had no friends. I was bullied occasionally, but it wasn't as bad as my freshman year. Around that time I was learning to drive. My dad got a new van so (surprisingly) he gave me his old station wagon. It was a piece of junk, but it was a car. On the last day of school they let me drive it. A couple of kids who were in my health class were talking and I walked up to them and asked if they wanted to go for a ride after school. They agreed, and after school we went cruising around town. We exchanged numbers and friendships were born.

A few days later, we met up at the skating rink. I met a lot of kids that day. One of them had some marijuana. Because I was trying to fit in and be accepted, I smoked it with them. Later that night, a girl I met at the skating rink paged me. I called her and told her what I just did. She thought that was cool, and we ended up going out for a while. Finally, my life was happy again. I had a car, some friends and a new activity to share with my friends.

We formed a small clique. There were three of us, and he hung out all summer. Most of the time, we would smoke weed and hang out in the neighborhood. It was the best summer of my life. I wasn't popular, but I had a lot of friends. When summer ended, we still hung out after school every day.

Back then I was trying so hard to fit in I didn't realize what I was doing wasn't healthy. Instead of focusing on my future I was wrapped up in the present. Instead of getting ready for college, I was too busy trying to be one of the cool kids. I worried about what others thought about me because my self esteem was so low. didn't know how to cope with problems so I used marijuana and cigarettes to relieve stress. Being bullied had affected my way of life. And the worst was yet to come.