[locke]

Well, I've posted not much more than fluff on this site, including my severely lacking introduction. So this post will double as a re-introduction. You may want to get a snack, or just ignore this post completely. There's a life story coming up. Apologies in advance.

I could really relate to wedekit's story. My parents would fight all the time over fairly stupid things. Sometimes it would get violent. My father was an alcoholic and was verbally abusive towards me. They separated a few times and got back together. My mother even started divorce proceedings once, but then cancelled them.

I eventually got sick of it all and purposefully picked a fight with my father. I kept him distracted and told my mother to call the police. After this they separated again.

During the separation my mother met a man she loved, then started divorce proceedings again. My father found out about this and went to harass and threaten him. This man's ex-wife also found out about this and began wooing him back. They eventually re-married. My mother was devastated.

The divorce proceedings went through this time. My father argued that my mother was seeing someone during the separation, but before the actual divorce proceedings and that this should be considered an affair. He won the case and got away without having to pay alimony and having to pay little child support.

At this point my mother had a breakdown, lost her job and had trouble holding any subsequent jobs. My brother began acting more and more erratic and eventually got involved with drugs. During this time we all had fairly angry and violent outbursts. The violence wasn't directed at each other, but at dishes and walls. I was the first to overcome this, then my mother. My brother was still punching holes in walls before he was sent to prison about a year ago. I think that's because his drug of choice was methamphetamine.

That was when the verbal abuse from my mother began. She'd often compare me to the men she's hated in her life. She'd sometimes compare me to my father's sister. My aunt had managed to make a pretty decent life for herself. "Perfect" in my mothers eyes, so she blamed all my father's problems on her. My brother, she'd compare to my father.

I think this was because I was the least visibly affected by all this. But my problems were social and mostly manifested at school.

I was teased and bullied early on in school. In second grade a kid would sit behind me on the bus and pull my hair. This is when I began my habit of sitting in the very last seat on the bus. Even so, one time he managed to get my shoe somehow for a game of "keep away." The teasing continued in various forms up until about the middle of 9th grade.

Around that time I discovered how to project what I would call an aura of intimidation. I would say it was the kind of vibe that goth kids were going for, except I didn't need the black nail polish, piercings and mascara. In fact, this actually worked at keeping people from messing with me rather than just provoking more of the laughter and teasing that was usually directed at the goths. Since then I've learned how to get the opposite effect and have gotten comments like, "You're one of the quietest people I've ever met, but I feel strangely comfortable with you," a few times.

Early 10th grade is when my problems at home were beginning to get at their worst and my social anxiety began to become unbearable. I began cutting school and the frequency would increase as the year went on. This would reinforce itself. I would feel embarrassed over the number of days I've missed, and so I wouldn't want to go to school. I dropped out early in 11th grade. I finished school through independent study.

May, 1999. I would be finishing 11th grade if I had went. My mother hasn't held a job in a while. My brother and I are behaving like delinquents, although he hasn't gotten involved with drugs yet. The rent is due. We end up using the last of our money to take a Grayhound bus across country to stay with my grandmother.

From that time until about a year and a half ago, I spent most of my time to myself. I've held jobs, they were in IT except for one brief period in 2003/2004 when I worked at a Subway. I left Subway for another IT job, even though I knew I needed to social experience and wanted to stay (that's another story). I tried college a couple of times, but my anxiety wouldn't allow me to focus. People still tell me I should go to school, but I've already decided that's not my path.

Last year I met a guy who got me involved organizing a Powwow in Northridge (Nov. 29th this year at CSUN by the way) and I've since gotten involved with other activist organizations. I've even started an activism project of my own.

Well, on to the topic! When I'm concerned about people liking me I tend to want to be exciting, witty and spontaneous. I usually end up failing at this, embarassing myself and offending others, or focusing so intently on this that I make myself a nervous wreck and still can't think of anything to say. I guess if I could pinpoint my anxiety it's that I'm afraid I'm boring.