Another documented ‘Thoughts From Years Past’ that reflects what was going on in my life at a particular time. My post ‘I want to write a book’ describes my desire to write a book and several times in the past started this process, without proceeding very far. In my post ‘Thoughts From Years Past.4’, this included a continuation of the ‘start’ of my book.
The following documentation is a continuation of those pages.
Thoughts I wrote from September, 2004 – (edited from original writing to not disclose specific location)
So what changed? What was the reason for me to still be here today, living a content and happy life? Well before I get to that, let me first tell you what got me to the point of suicide. I grew up in what I consider a middle class family. Maybe by today’s standard it would be middle class, back in the 60s and 70s maybe upper class. To this day I have no idea what my parent’s income was back in those days. I grew up living in a large home for that day with us having nice clothes and nice cars. I had good parents; they gave my siblings and me freedom and independence. I do remember times of correctional behavior by my dad with a ping pong paddle. But there were never too many of these behavior modification sessions taking place. Dad spent much time out of town on business and with mom working there were times us kids were left alone with the responsibility of taking care of ourselves and each other. Not at all am I indicating we were neglected and left to defend for ourselves. Remember this is the early 70s when children could get on their bikes and ride miles away to a corner store for candy. Crime was a minimum; neighbor knew neighbor and kids could play dodge ball in the streets and feel safe. Life was simple without worries of child abductions and molesters, free from gangs and drug dealers and free of drunk drivers and murderers.
I remember being known and recognized in the community of our town. My dad owned many fast-food chain restaurants in other cities as well as our home town. A city the size of our town in the 70s, people knew us for this prestige. Because of this family business, my siblings and I began work at a young age. I started when I was around 10 years old. Oh I just worked a couple of hours a day for free and remember seeing it as fun rather than work. I remember stacking slices of cheese so they were easily handled when cheeseburgers were made. After all it was a fast-food hamburger chain, we had to be fast. Anything that could be prepared before hand to make the process of making a hamburger or in this case a cheeseburger more efficient was needed. Even people back then were in a hurry and wanted things quickly. I eventually started getting paid for my work. My beginning pay was $1.25 an hour and soon after I received my first raise to $1.50 an hour. How excited I felt, after all I was very young and liked making money and knowing it was mine to choose what I wanted to do with it.
Okay, so you ask what does this have to do with suicide.
In the whole scheme of things not much, it just adds more stress to an already insecure little boy. How can a boy that young be insecure? See my post ‘2nd Grade & 2nd Grade’ for the answer.
….to be continued….