Spoiled Prince's Journal

</b></a>For the first three people that reply to this post who re-post this challenge: you win!

I will send you a gift.

It might be something I've made, or something cool from my hidden stash of fabulousity. It might be a mix CD, or a rubber duck, or a book I think you might enjoy. A love letter. A Useful Object/ Or something else that is awesome/taking up room in my house. It also might be something non-tangable, but useful nonetheless.

Whatever it is, I promise I will get it to you in 365 days of your posted comment or less, and I will need your snail mail if you're not local.

The only thing you need to do to receive your gift is PARTICIPATE.

Be one of the first three journallers to reply to this, and post this very same thing in your journal, and YOU are the lucky giftee.

Just 'cuz.

Because you get what you need when you ask, and because it's fun to make other folks day..

And you can expect even more from me!

Yesterday I couldn't stop crying. My Mother was really worried about me because I refused to tell her what's wrong.
So I've decided to take these new pills that doctor prescribed me. They're supposed to block any emotions. But they were too weak. I was supposed to take only one, but I took five.
I've woken up in the middle of the night because I couldn't breathe and I felt excruciating pain near my heart.
I ran to the bathroom and started do cough until I threw up. After this I felt much better and returned to my bed about an hour later.
In the morning I felt really weird. Everything was making me laugh. I must have looked really stupid.

I'm not doing a thing like this again, I'm not so stupid. But I have to say it was kind of exciting. Nothing ever happens in this pathetic life of mine.

Today I feel better. I had a talk with *Him*.
He's worried about me. I didn't want to make him worry. I didn't want to tell him anything but he misunderstood me and got mad at me so I had to explain what's going on.

I wonder how this story will end?

Chapter 05 - Emptiness

I just wanted to be loved.
I wanted to get accepted for who I am.

Now there's nothing else left for me but to cry.
All I can do is cry.

Year two, semester one is over.
So yesterday I had an important exam. And being the lazy bum I am, I didn't even bother to study at all. And my head was completely empty because I haven't been going to these classes at all.
And as usual, I started to panic in the morning. I got a stomachache and felt like passing out. Took some drugs and they helped me to remain calm.
Before the exam everyone was panicking and studying hard but me - I was just watching Chakushin Ari on my MP3 Player.
I don't remember too much from this but I remember going in, writing something, talking with the teacher and going out.
And the whole time I was sure I'm going to fail it. Everyone else was "prepared" well. That means a cheat-sheet in every place possible. I always hated cheating and not even once have I tried it.
Later the teacher came out and started reading out our grades. And it turns out I got a B+. I was so shocked!
Either I'm so lucky or I'm a genius. The former one probably.

When I returned home I was completely exhausted both mentally as well as physically. I think I caught something. Flu probably. Every move I make now hurts so much.

After it got dark outside and I was just sitting here, listening to the music, the power went out. No wind, no snow, it just did. So I watched Mickey's Christmas Carol while waiting for the electricity to return.
When it finally came back I made some sandwiches and watched Gilmore Girls. I just loved Richard's and Emily's reaction when they learned all that Rory told them about the Huntzbergers was true. Edward Herrmann is such a great actor!

Then I went to bed. I couldn't sleep because it hurt to even lie there in bed. So I started to think. About *Him*.
I cried so much my nose started to bleed. Even my own blood hates me and wants to be as far away from me as possible.

Fell to sleep and had a dream about some giant spiders and I was shooting at them with this toy gun.

I've tried cutting myself again about a week ago.
Didn't want to say anything not to cause unneeded drama.

I don't know why I did this. I just felt that maybe if I feel that pain, all my problems will disappear.
But they didn't. They're still there, more vivid and painful now that I know I can do nothing to escape them.

The pain was wonderful.
It felt as if butterflies were flying out from underneath my skin.
Crimson butterflies, so beautiful.

But then came the disappointment. It was pointless and stupid for me to do such a thing.
The only thing that's left now is this wound that doesn't want to heal and is constantly bleeding.

My Mother asked me what happened and I had to lie again.
I'm good at lying.

Will this never end? Will I be able to be happy again?

Thanks to this journal I was able to meet some great people. Some of them became my good friends.
But was it really necessary for me to open myself so much, to be so shocking?
Was that the only way for me to get noticed?

If people seek drama, I'll give them what they want.

I don't really remember the first time I got depressed. I think it was after one of my friends at High school betrayed me. I cried a lot, everything seemed sad and pointless so I was just sleeping my way through life until I got better.

But I've started to think about suicide long before this. Maybe even in elementary school. I thought that I was a burden to everyone and that it would be best if I just disappeared.
But I was too much of a coward to try doing anything serious. The worst thing I did was cutting myself with various sharp objects. I think I've done this for the first time when I was 11 or 12.

I always wondered - If I die, who's going to miss me?
I knew for sure that my Mother and Grandmother will, but who else?
I even thought about faking my death to see for myself.

But I'm trying to be strong. I don't think I'll ever commit suicide because it's an irreversible thing. What if I'm going to regret it later (I hope there is a "later" after death).
I'm trying to survive everything life throws at me. But sometimes it's just so hard...

Right now I'm really depressed. It's because a few days ago I've completely lost my hope to be with the person I love. It's just not possible.
Everything seems gray, I can't eat, I can't sleep, I have no reason to do anything, I'm crying every time I see his face in my mind.
Yesterday my Mother caught me crying. I was always hiding it, this was the second time she saw me in this state. She was worried about me but I lied to her that it's because of school. What was I supposed to tell her? That I've fallen in love with a guy who's so far away and is not for me? I know that would hurt her and I don't want to hurt anyone. I know she'd try to cheer me up, but I don't need anyone to do this for me.
I just... want someone to love me. To hug me when I'm crying. But nobody ever wanted to. I'm so lonely.
And now I've lost my final hope.

I don't know what's going to happen to me now.
I think I'll just go to sleep.

I really like talking about myself. Some people get irritated by this because they just don't want to hear another emotional story from me. About how my life is so painful and such.
But if you're reading this, it must mean that you are interested so I'll try to summarize my life now.

Some warnings before I start though. First, I'm not a native English speaker so if anything sounds weird to you, I'm really sorry. Second, this is going to be long and boring so of you're not a person who likes to read, go somewhere else.

I've been born in a small town in Poland in 1986. People say it's a good year to be born in, I wouldn't really know.
I don't know too many facts about my early life because my Parents didn't bother to tell me about this and I wasn't interested so I didn't ask.
The first thing I can remember is probably my first visit to a photographer to have a photo of me and my Mother taken.
I was a really cute child, with my hair light blond I was often told I look like a girl or an angel. The photographer noticed this too and told my Mother that he wants to enlarge my photo and display it in the front. Everyone was so proud of me. That's the first time I learned how important a person's look is in their life.
At this time I was still living at my Grandmother's apartment together with my Parents. Later, in 1993 we moved to our own apartment in which I thought I was going to spend a big part of my life, until I grow up and move out. Now I know how wrong I was.
There I've met some of my soon-to-be friends and the family that's changed my life. For worse. It consisted of the alcoholic husband who quickly became best friends with my father, his wife who was beaten by him and became my Mother's best friend and their child, Tom who became mine.
Their situation was almost completely like ours, we understood and liked each other, spent holidays together, went on trips and all this.
But there was more to this that meets the eye.

I remember that my parents were always arguing over everything. I didn't quite understand what it was all about but it didn't really bother me. I thought that's the way a normal family is supposed to be.
My father was alcoholic. He was always everywhere but with me. I was practically raised by my Mother and Grandmother. I know now that this had a huge impact on me and I wouldn't be the person I am now if not because of this.
Every time he was sober, he was always giving me money. I think he hoped to make up for all he's done to me. At first I was gladly taking it, but later I started to refuse, because I started to realize what his intentions were.
I've been beaten by him all the time, for any reason he could find. I had cuts and bruises everywhere. My Mother's been beaten and strangled too. We often had to escape from him back to my Grandmother's place.
I couldn't wear short-sleeved shirts or shorts, even when it was summer, because I had bruises on my arms and my Mother didn't want other children to make fun of me because of this. I still don't like to wear anything that shows off too much skin in public because I feel really uncomfortable while doing so.
My Mother was always protecting me along with my Grandmother, they were trying to do everything to make me forget about what I was going through. They were buying me practically anything I wanted, feeding me the best things that were available. That's how I became chubby. And it's been the curse of my life, until recently when I finally accepted it.

When I went to school for the first time in 1993 I was already a big boy. I was innocent and didn't know how cruel children can be.
Before I learned this the hard way, I was an energetic child. I was curious of everything and I liked people in general.
But in school I was being called names and beaten on every occasion because of my chubbiness. Whenever I wanted to hit them back, the teacher called my father and I was beaten at house.
I started to hate people little by little. I became quiet, I never spoke up when unasked.
I started to get violent.

There was one incident involving me, my classmate and my scissors. And another one involving pushing another classmate off stairs.
My Mother tried to explain everything to the teachers but they wouldn't listen. In fact, I think they were enjoying the show very much because I know they were looking at the kids making fun of me all the time. And they never did anything to stop it.

In 1994 I went to my cousin's place and saw something that later became all my life. It was a NES console. Which my Grandmother has bought me a few days later. It let me forget about the cruel world I was living in and escape into all these wonderful worlds where I could be whoever I wanted to be.

At school I befriended one boy who was chubby too. We were really good friends at that time, he lived near me, we visited each other, played videogames, we made a hideout near an old German graveyard and pretended to be special agents investigating various Paranormal cases. I was interested in the Paranormal ever since I can remember. There was something alluring in all these mysterious places we used to play at. We used to build "vehicles" using some junk we found lying everywhere. One day we found a crow nailed to a cross lying in the junkyard. We got scared and never returned there again. Another day we found some weird machines and imagined they were used to freeze people inside of them.
I really miss these times. All this let me forget about what awaited me at home.
I also had a lot of girl-friends. They were always good and kind to me. I felt I could trust girls. And sometimes I felt like one too.
I was a little kid then and couldn't really understand what this could mean. I thought it was okay to think and act like a girl because girls were much cooler, better looking and overall better than boys who were mean to me and hurt me all the time. I think this was another thing that made me who I am now.

About this time (1996) I went to my friend's place and he showed me his PSOne with Crash Bandicoot 3 his Grandmother sent him from the US.
I wanted to have it so much that I cried all the way home. The next day I borrowed it from him and got completely addicted. When I finally bought one, people started to "like" me more. They visited me more frequently to play games. I liked this. I learned that by using money I can have many friends, that people will like me and be nice to me. I was also getting popular at school. Now I can see how stupid I was.

In 1996 my father has made a promise that he's going to change. He really stopped drinking and started to care about me a bit more. He moved to Belgium to earn money.
In 1997 he invited me and my Mother to Brussels for summer holidays.
I was really happy. I was happy that I can finally visit a place that was so different from where I lived. I was happy that my Parents were finally getting along so well.

Shortly after we returned to Poland everything started to be just like it used to be. My father started to drink again, my Mother found out that he supposedly had a few lovers in Belgium. He lost all the money he earned because of his drinking. I had to sell my NES and all the games I had for it. There was a lot of them, about 200. My "friends" noticed that I wasn't getting any new games and that I was getting poor. So they just left me.

And finally that day in 1999 came.
My parents were arguing in the kitchen but I was used to it so I didn't even notice. But then my father started to beat my Mother and scream that he's going to kill her. My heart started to beat fast when I heard these noises coming from the kitchen. I didn't know what to do so I just grabbed a knife I kept in my drawer and went to see what's going on. He was trying to strangle my Mother but when he saw me with the knife in my hand, he let her go and went after me.
I was a kid at this time, he was much stronger than me so he easily took the knife from me and stabbed me twice in the arm. I didn't even feel the pain until much later when I realized what just happened.
This was the event that triggered my Mother to finally leave him and move out of there. She was planning everything behind his back so when finally the day of our escape came, he didn't know anything.
We were supposed to move into my Grandmother's apartment again. The plan was to bring some people with a truck early in the morning, take the furniture, leave what was his property (we couldn't even touch some things that belonged to him) and move it all here. It was all going smoothly, our neighbours helped us, but then something unplanned happened. My father's best friend saw us. He called him and told him to come quickly. There was no time left. We took what we could but left a lot of our stuff there and couldn't retrieve it later.

So here we were. Free from all the hell we were going through. My Grandmother and her husband helped us a lot. They moved into another apartment so that we could live in this one, they gave us money we needed to start our new lives.
It was in 2000, the year I was graduating to Middle school. All of this messed up my mind pretty badly. The escape, new place I wasn't used to yet and now all the people around me I didn't know.
Middle school was pretty much hell for me. I got even worse than I was before. The kids still called me names, teased and beat on me, but it was not mere play anymore. They clearly wanted me to commit suicide because they knew how weak and vulnerable I was. They even threatened me with knives. And I couldn't tell anyone because I didn't want any attention at that time. It would only make things worse.
I was always seen standing all alone, drawing pictures on the wall with my finger. They wanted me to wear a leash to school because I was just a dog to them. And I was doing it.
At this time I finally realized that I was gay. Guys interested me more than girls. I didn't get too worried about this. I was a freak already so I had nothing to lose.
We also learned that my father had an affair all this time, with my Mother's best friend, the one I've written about in the beginning. What an interesting plot twist! His best friend became his worst enemy, my Mother's best friend became an enemy to us too, my best friend (Tom) became my enemy AND my step-brother!
Later my father and that woman started living together, had another child (my second step-brother!) and they're stealing our money from us.

These three years passed really slowly, but the I finally graduated to High school.
Oh, and in the meantime I've bought a Dreamcast and a PS2 to make me forget.

On my first day of school I dyed my hair pink. I don't know why. Maybe I wanted to be cool, maybe I wanted to forget about my past and be a completely new person, or maybe I wanted them to notice my hair, not me.
All I know is that I became more "normal" since then. More confident. I've met people who became my best friends later. Agnes, Adrian, Matt and the others. They made me feel like a human being again. Not like a dog.
I had some great time being with them and I'm still very thankful to them for accepting me as I was.
But I couldn't change completely. I'm still scared to go out. I still don't like speaking so when I'm near people, I'm really quiet. To the point some people think I'm conceited.

After graduating from High school I started to attend the college I'm at right now. It's a language school and I'm probably going to be a translator when I graduate and get the papers. I'm the best student they have, yet I don't really think I'm that good at English. You be the judge.

And I was living my life like this, I thought I was happy with all the things I had. I thought I don't need love, that I can live a happy life without a stupid and pointless thing like that. Until the day in October last year which I'll never forget. I've met someone who could understand me, who cared about me and helped me to accept almost completely who I am.
I've fallen in love for the first time in my life. I finally started to understand what all these love songs were all about. This was the most wonderful thing I've ever felt in my life. I've finally found a reason to live my life, a hope.
But this love can't be. I've fallen for the wrong person. I cry every day missing him so much. And I don't know what to do with my life now. I know he'd tell me to be strong but I can't. I can't be strong without him.

Right, I started to cry right now so I'll better end this (long) entry.
I hope someone read this until the end and is going to comment.

If I get enough response, I'll continue posting on this blog. If I don't, I'm going to delete it.

Thank you for reading.

This is my first journal entry so I think I have to introduce myself now.
My name is Kamil, but I hate it. It sounds like a girl's name. I prefer to be called Akira.
I was born on 27th of March, 1986 somewhere in Poland. I've been living here since then with my Mother, but I really want to move to somewhere else so I can truly be free and independent.
I have no siblings, that's why I've always been spoiled by my Parents and Grandparents.
I don't really imagine living on my own and earning my own money for living, but I know I'll have to start some day. Or maybe not.

My native language isn't English, that's why It took me so long to start writing this. I just didn't feel secure enough to write anything serious, but my Friend inspired me to do this. I don't expect to be famous or anything like that. I just want to have a place where I can vent because I'm gradually starting to get crushed with all these thoughts in my head. I also wanted to show people how miserable your life can get because of money, which I consider the most evil (although essential) thing in the world.

Enjoy your lecture.