From before the age of 9, my life seemed perfect. I had it all... The best
dad, the best mom, the best grandparents, and the best family anyone could
want pretty much. I was spoiled and got everything I wanted. My
grandparents were separated and remarried, so I had a grandma and step
grandpa, a grandpa and step grandma, all four that I was really close
with. At age 5, my mom and dad divorced, but it didn't really affect me as
I was too young to understand it enough to care. I just knew I still had
my family.

The boyfriend my mom had at the time took me, my sister, and mom to
Massillon Baptist Temple every Sunday morning, though I was too young to
understand any religion and was never really able to pay any attention.

I'd get to visit my dad every weekend, and every weekend he picked me up
and took me to the store to buy me a new toy. At the same time, my sister
was getting spoiled at home by my mom and her boyfriend and would tell her
not to tell me, so I was kind of jealous. As I was growing up, I always
wanted to either be a police officer, fireman, preacher, or lawyer to help
people. By the time I turned 9, everything started crashing.

So, I made a wish one day that I would get to stay home with my mom, her
boyfriend, and sister for just one weekend to see what I missed out on
while I was with my dad. That same day, my dad started becoming very ill.
I could tell something wasn't right but I just didn't know what was going
on or what to do. Sunday night came and it was time for me to go back
home, but I decided to stay and have my mom pick me up in the morning for
school. Late in the middle of the night I woke up and found my dad on the
floor (he had a stroke). I felt it again that something bad was happening
but didn't know what to do. He was begging for water, so I went to the
kitchen and couldn't reach any glasses or find any that I could reach, so
I tried to tell him but received no answer. I screamed it out many times
and still no answer except him struggling to say "need water".

I laid back down and prayed that God doesn't take him until at least my
mom comes in the morning, since I didn't want to be there with a dead
person all night (dead people and funeral homes are my biggest fear).
Finally my mom came and called 911 and ambulances came and took him away.
He died on the way to the hospital but they brought him back, so I'm kind 
of glad I was there overnight or he may have died while I was in school 
that day and we wouldn't have known until the next weekend when I'd go 
back. He suffered in the hospital for a couple of weeks, unable to talk 
or open his eyes. My mom didn't like to drive very far, so she barely 
took me to the hospital to see him. I only got to go see him like once. 
I felt so helpless and scared.

After a couple weeks, I woke up one morning and heard my mom crying after
getting off of the phone with my grandpa telling her to hurry to the
hospital. On the way to the hospital, the song titled No more I love you's
by Annie Lennox came on the radio. I took it as a sign and found it to be
true. He was gone and I never had the chance to say goodbye. I can't
really go on with the rest of what happened when we got there. It's just
too graphically detailed in my mind as if it happened yesterday when I try
to think about it.

I had also made the wish that I was the only child so that I wouldn't have
to share anything with my sister. Of course, that had to come true. I
haven't told anyone about us being sexually abused by my mom's boyfriend
for so long. It was one day when my mom's boyfriend was away on vacation 
with his work. I heard her talking on the phone to someone about how she's 
glad she can trust her boyfriend and doesn't have to worry about him 
doing that to us (can't really remember exactly everything that was said). 
I hated to be the one to destroy what she just said but I did. I told her. 
I guess my sister also told some people at school the same day too, so 
child services stepped in and told my mom that she needed to either provide 24/7
supervision, or choose which one of us to keep and which one goes. Unable
to provide 24/7 supervision due to needing sleep and having to work, she
chose to keep me since my dad recently died and because my sister is much
stronger.

I have not seen my sister for several years now because her stepmom
dislikes my mom and refuses to let us talk to her, so much that she even
placed my sister in a group home and only she is able to authorize any
visitations or incoming messages. It's a rather long story that is purely
wrong but no one interested in helping us get back together again, even
though we are supposed to have visitation rights.

So, I started becoming closer to my grandparents, visiting them every
weekend. I often couldn't appreciate those visits since I'd get homesick
and miss my mom. I'd always call her every 5 minutes wanting to go home.
When I was about 11 or 12, I started to develop tourette syndrome,
anxiety, ADHD, depression, and obsessive-compulsive disorder. I started
seeing counselors around that age, and was poorly mistreated by those
counselors all the time. I'd get beat up every day on the way home from
school and would never throw a punch back. It's just not me, I'm not a
fighter. I help, not hurt. My counselors would blame everything on me. I
was sometimes misbehaving at home and school just like any normal child,
talking back or swearing out. Because of that, my counselor threatened me
with the detention home and took me on a tour and told me that's where I
will go if I don't change. I wasn't really that bad to deserve something
like that. He'd also always make empty promises like lunch somewhere if I
was able to not get into trouble at school for two weeks. He never kept
his word.

From the wishes I made and especially with the help of the poor counselors
I've had, and from the loss of my sister, I felt guilty. I blamed myself
for all of it, for my dad's death, and for losing my sister... I'd often
blame myself for events that were far out of my control and started losing
all hope and self confidence. I felt very worthless. I blamed things on myself
that happened decades before I was born.

At the same time, I started attending a Wednesday night Church service for
children around the same age as me (11-12). Because of my tourette
syndrome, I was made fun of a few times while at the Church. It caused me
to leave and never go back to a Church again.

As I grew older, I started to get even worse. More depressed, more feeling
worthless, hopeless, and more feeling guilty that I caused everything. I
felt guilty that I was unable to help anyone in need of help, but I wasn't
in a very good position myself to be able to anyhow.

Suffering from severe shyness and fear of people, I find it very difficult
to approach people, or hold a conversation. I'm the same way with even my
own family. I also find it very difficult to make friends, so I escape
from my miserable life by spending all my time on my computer where I feel
safe from the world. I do eventually open up to people the more I get to
know them. I'm really trying to fix the shyness and fear problem and
hoping to some day get over it. So I often feel bad when people try to
talk to me and all I can do is blush, smile and laugh, and unable to make
any eye contact, and barely able to talk. It seems they feel I prefer not
to talk, when I really do want to talk but I'm held back by the shyness
and fears that I have.

Doctors prescribed medications for me that seemed to only make everything
worse and would claim that my body just needed to get used to a medication
that I've taken for several years. One medication I used to take caused me
to have approximately 30 or more panic attacks a day.

The week that I turned about 19 (maybe 20), I lost my grandma, step
grandma, and step grandpa all in the same week. Once again, my whole world
came crashing all around. Then on my 22nd birthay, my grandpa took me out
to eat. When he dropped me off at home, he gave me a hug and jokingly said
"I'll see you next year if I'm still alive". The next summer (summer of
2008), he died. So, the only thing I was left with was my mom.

And I was never really into the whole religious thing. I'd often have many
doubts. I sort of believed but doubts caused me to not believe. I had so
many questions and prayers that went unanswered. I'm a person
that usually needs some sort of proof for me to believe something, 
and so when I would ask for visual, physical, or vocal proof of God's 
existence, I was never really answered. I'd always be told by Christians 
that God loves me, but much like a hit country music song titled 
Monday Morning Church by Alan Jackson, I was never sure that I 
deserved it since he took all that I believed and loved and 
laid it in the ground leaving my heart as empty as a Monday morning church.

Because of my shyness and fears, I have always been very uncapable of
discussing all of this to people. It seems the only people I was ever able
to feel comfortable telling it to were just a handful of close friends
that I have met in online computer games.

Then through the 2009 Holidays, I had to take my mom to the hospital. I went
outside for some fresh air and some guy came outside shortly after to
smoke a cigarette. Much to my surprise, I found that he looked 100% like
my dad and the moment he said something, I found that he sounded just like
my dad. If I didn't know any better, I would have believed it to be him.
The way he sounded, looked, acted, walked, and everything about him was
identical. Sadly I was unable to really talk to him, and was regretting
that I didn't talk much to him or ask him if I could hug him or for a
phone number to keep contact with him. I regret that, because there was my
chance to sort of have my dad back in my life in a way. It seemed like
every time I lifted myself back up one step, I'd fall back a few steps
again. Stupid me..

Finally, on New Years Eve, December 31, 2009, I began talking to a friend
of mine on a computer game I play. I feel that God brought us to
conversation that night to help me finally find peace. She told me an
inspiring story of how she wasn't much of a believer and how God revealed
himself to her. She talked about how Satan and demons (or fallen angels)
work to cause misery and pain, and how they blind us from the truth of God
and prevent us from connecting with him. I was able to ask her all of my
questions and she was able to answer every one of them, something that
most have never really been able to give me an answer to. That night, as I
was about to fall asleep, I prayed. This time, I knew and felt everything
I prayed was coming from my heart and desire to form my relationship with
God. I told him of my problems and that I had doubts because of all the
terrible things that seemed he allows to happen. I asked him to help me
clear any doubts I had, take away the pains I was having, and help me
believe in him. 

I also asked forgiveness and asked that if I have such
demons that control me and preventing me from healing that he help me to
get rid of them. I had also asked him to show me some kind of sign that he
heard me and that would make me believe. Suddenly, I could feel something.
It was like a cloud of air leaving my body. I began to feel a tingling
energy running through my body, slowly removing any aches and pains I had.
All doubts and questions I had were gone. All of my sadness and worries
were taken away. My mind had become so clear that I had absolutely no
thoughts at all, except for good positive thoughts. He spoke to me in an
unexplainable way that I was able to tell it was him and I could feel his
presence everywhere around me. For the longest time, I never felt more
happy or more comfortable. I never felt more useful, and never felt more
hopeful or relaxed until that night. I also felt like I had all the
answers that I needed or ever wanted.

The next morning, I woke up with a smile on my face, something I have
never been able to have for what seemed like the longest time in my life.
God started speaking to me in obvious ways and giving me ability to see
that it is him. I gave the good news to my friend and she has been there
for me and kept encouraging me and has been very supportive. I've learned
many things from her and from God giving me the answers I long awaited
for. A couple of weeks ago (in February 2010), I was feeling a little 
depressed again as I happened to be given another bad experience that 
I'd prefer not to really talk about at the time. I began to talk to my 
friend about it and along came God to speak to me through a song that 
came on the radio. It was like a direct answer to what I was feeling 
and I could feel that it was him once again. It was revealed to me 
that God uses bad experiences to bring us closer to him, and to help 
make us stronger.

Ever since that one New Years Eve night, I began to pray on a daily basis.
Lately, God has given me the invitation, strength, and guidance that I
needed. I am now fully aware that he has a very good plan for everyone. He
brought me back to Massillon Baptist Temple, which I feel is for a reason.
I believe he told me to go in order to learn more, and knew that I wanted
and needed to be saved through the prayer of Salvation. I also believe it
is to also help bring closure in attempt to give back some of the happy
childhood memories I had when I was young and attended the Church every
week, the memories that I lost and buried from holding all of my bad
memories and guilts. So I came into Church already having a very very
close relationship with God, but needed to do the prayer of salvation to
be saved.

I now understand everything that is taught in Church, which I've never
been able to understand before because I was blinded by my lack of faith.
I've never been able to keep full focus and attention on what is being
said in Church, but now I am able to! I've also never been able to
understand anything the Bible said. But, Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010,
the Pastor sat down and talked to me and helped me learn how to be saved,
which is what God was trying to get me to do. After the prayer of
salvation, I was finally able to look at the new Bible that the Pastor
gave to me, and was able to fully understand everything it said. What
actually looked like jibberish to me seems to have been changed. The words
have never been more clear to me until now. I feel God has changed the
words in the Bible to kindergardener level words for me to be able to read
and understand, since my comprehension of what I read isn't too good.
Oddly, before all of this, I was interested in paranormal beliefs, magic,
and things like that. It's like the demons I had trapped my interest. The
only books I was ever interested in reading or able to comprehend and
understand were those that had anything to do with dark magic and
paranormal things, like Harry Potter, etc..

I have to also give thanks to College, which I have been going to for
quite some time now. It has really helped me in so many ways. I decided to
finally go to College to get a degree in computer science and engineering
for video game development and programming. I had always had an interest
in that, because my dad did too and I was taught a lot about computers by
my dad. He often made simple games and software in his spare time and
tagged them with a brand name, SleasySoft. The S and L for his initials
(Steve Leisy), "easy" because he thought everything with computers was
easy, and Soft is short for Software.

My goal is to be able to make his dream hobby a reality and start the
company in the near future. I have always had the goal in mind to become a
multi billionaire and be able to walk up to people who are in need,
handing them a briefcase full of a few million dollars, then move on to
the next person, starting with those that helped me get there (college,
counseling services, etc). Just like my dad would have wanted... 
I also hope to make a company that cares about the customers with no 
greed at all, and give back to them. I want to be able to change the large 
business industry to what it's supposed to be, quality and care for 
customers and not greed for the money! Imagine a company that sends 
gift cards to all customers every Christmas, and a holiday card every
Thanksgiving, or even money and a free game of your choice!! 
And since starting college, I'm now half way to reaching my goal!



UPDATE (ADDED THE UNWRITTEN PART OF MY STORY): 

So, I feel ready to get it out there.. Even though it hurts so much to 

write about it, I can't keep holding it in!! 

When I was about 12 or so, and had that counselor I mentioned in my 

other story that was mean and blamed everything on me and stuff, my 

mom was dating this one guy. Not to sound racist or anything, but yes, 

was a black guy. He was really abusive and hated kids. I no longer 

felt safe or comfortable in my own room, much less my own home. It 

felt more like a prison than anything. The first night he came over 

to visit and have dinner, we played a game of 

checkers for fun. I caught him cheating, so I said something about it. 

Ever since, he hated me so much that when he started coming over daily 

and actually moved in, I was grounded to my room for apparently no reason 

at all, and indefinitely. I started questioning things because if I disagree with 

something like that, of course it is normal for me to question it. I ended up 

getting more than just being grounded, I was forced to continuously write 

an indefinite amount of sentences (what the heck, only middle school made students do that), 

of bogus stuff like "I will note talk back blah blah blah".. I was supposed 

to write like 500 of them, but it was indefinite because if my hand started 

getting tired and started to hurt, my writing would get sloppy or I would 

stop for a few minutes for a break. Oh no, that wasn't allowed. If I was 

caught with sloppy writing or taking a short break, I had to start over 

from sentence #1. Cool, I'm only human, so I that sort of gave the mindset 

that I can't make mistakes... :(  I was never once allowed out of my room. 

I was in my room from the time I arrived home from school until the time I 

went to school. 

Sometimes, he would come over in the middle of the night around 2:30 am and 

literally drag me out of bed by my hair because of something he disliked, 

say if I was snoring, or if I had my window opened. So it was obvious that I wasn't 

allowed much of any freedom. No air, no window opened to keep my room cooled, 

no fan, nothing. While him and my mom would leave the house for most of the day, 

they took the key. They had a deadbolt lock put on all of the doors where a 

key was needed to get out. That's cool. What would I do if there happened to 

be a fire? Most of the windows ended up getting sealed shut. Eventually, I started 

to see the opportunity when they would be gone, to use the phone and call 

my grandparents. They always offered me to go live with them, and that I would 

have their nice gorgeous home and over 150 acres of land, and furniture store when 

I turned 18, so I'd always be taken care of for life. Of course, being 

in fear, as I was threatened with having the police and children services called 

on me if I left and went with grandparents, I turned the offer down. I also didn't 

really want to lose my mom even though she allowed this to happen to me. 

My grandparents ended up coming once to try and take me with them and I was then 

caught sneaking to use the phone to call them. So they started taking the 

phone with them. Nice, so if a fire happened, or I somehow had an 

emergency, I could not get out of the house, and could not call 911 either.. 

I don't really remember much of anything else in that situation, so now to fast 

forward to recent 10 years ago..

My mom started dating this one guy. He sort of seemed just like my dad, and I 

really liked him and still do. He just needs some help.. 

I never knew it, but he was a drug user. He'd always spend $100 or more a day 

on drugs. It eventually got to the point where he would take my money, any money 

I had or made, and used it to buy drugs and support his habbits. He actually 

ended up getting my mom involved too.. Once I turned 18, I was able to claim 

$15,000 of the money my dad left for me in a CD trustfund when he died. 

I was forced to withdraw money left and right and give it all up to him and my mom, 

because I was always threatened and put into fear that if I didn't, I'd get 

killed or something. I've had hammers, wrenches, and other things thrown at 

me for denying them, tables and chairs flipped on me, etc.. So there went $15,000 

gone in a matter of a few weeks. I also had a credit card that was stolen and 

lied about. I noticed it missing one day and questioned them. They told me I 

must have lost it, so I said I will call the credit card company and report it 

lost. They convinced me not to do that. All along, they had it and were using 

it and destroying my credit. I had also bought cars several times, which were 

in my name. While I was at school or something, they'd end up trading my car 

away for drugs without my knowledge. When I noticed it was missing, I was given 

the excuse that it broke down, and I believed it. My mom and I ended up moving 

out on our own and she ended up meeting a guy online in a Yahoo chat room. 

Without getting to know him, we immediately left and went to meet him. We ended 

up moving in there and come to find out that he was a completely abusive alcoholic. 

I ended up getting a job, where I worked hard and didn't really get to 

see any money from it. While I was in school, they'd go pick up my check and 

forge my signature. Other times, I ended up being forced to give every dime 

of it to them for bills and other things. It was like that with every guy my mom 

has ever dated. I always had to support him and was treated like crap in return. 

I mean I didn't mind doing it, because I'd rather give everything I have to help 

someone else, but being treated far worse than a dog got to me too much. 

This guy ended up forcing me to take a shot of this strong whiskey and start 

smoking at only 17 years of age.. He told me I wasn't a real man and was a 

complete girl if I wasn't man enough to drink or smoke. Whatever, I tried it and 

didn't like it. I have no idea how people can become alcoholics, that stuff is 

HORRIBLE. After awhile, we moved back in with the drug user. That's when I ended 

up turning 18 and getting all that money. He seemed to have gotten much 

worse when we moved back in. He started to become a control freak and absolutely 

had to have everything his way and have every dime he could get. He wasn't happy 

with what he had, he needed more, and now. He worked for his aunt who 

owned a junk yard and would often force me to go work sometimes too. She was just 

as greedy over money as he was, and only paid me $20 for an 8 hour day of killing 

myself with very heavy lifting of metals and stuff (refrigerators, hot 

water tanks, steel, etc).. Sometimes I was even forced to work for free. What I got 

out of that was a lot of pain in my back and still have it years later. Never went 

to get checked, I just live with it because I was 

always told that I'm too young to have back pain like that and it's just my imagination. 

Whatever. That $20 that I would work for would end up going to him. He was the reason 

I really began getting heavily into computer virtual life, 

to escape that misery, though it never really worked. At times when he'd get mad, he'd 

bust my monitor by throwing something at it. Things just kept getting worse, and I'd 

end up going without food for days. Utilities would get shut 

off... One time we went without heat in the winter time and I tell you, it was COLD!!! 

Why? Because he couldn't get priorities straight. He just had to have every dime go towards 

drugs, so bills were left unpaid and everything. After going 

days without something to eat, I'd have to scream at the top of my lungs to finally get 

a very small meal that would only last for about 30 minutes and then wear off.. It was bad... 

Here's something even more messed up.... On the 

weekends, when his aunt's junk yard was closed down, he'd force me to climb through the window, 

to get inside the building where she kept all the high valued scrap metals at, like copper, 

brass, and stainless steel, and would have me 

grab some of it and hand it out the window to him. I absolutely hated doing this, but I 

had no other choice unless I wanted to see an early death. Stealing is just not my thing.. 

I really feared him a lot. Moving out was not possible, 

because of the problems I faced, being uncapable of living on my own and stuff. 

I was always told by him that I'm unable to live on my own or that if something ever 

happened to my mom, the government would put me in a group home for the rest of my life, 

which is what my sister is in I believe, somewhere I didn't 

want to be. And it didn't help the situation much that my mom would always tell me that 

she wished I was dead and hated my guts...

He started becoming verbally and physically abusive to both my mom and I... So that was 

also another reason I didn't want to leave, without my mom. I needed to stay there to 

make sure she was ok... If I would have left her alone with 

him, he most likely would have killed her. I prevented that by staying. 

We really couldn't even leave anyhow, because if we tried, he'd keep us from going. 

Not being much of a fighter, and fearful of him, one day I just couldn't let it continue. 

I saw him hitting my mom and choking her, and I ended up 

letting it out. I went after him and was finally able to stand up to him. 

I was always afraid to call the cops, because I'd end up getting into trouble after they 

left. I got into trouble for calling the fire department once when there was a fire. Also, 

after finding out about the drug thing, I found it 

even harder to do that. I didn't want to get him, or my mom into trouble and lose the last 

of what I had left in my life. The only family I had left. I just couldn't do it, and was 

never able to tell my counselor about all of this, 

because I am still not sure if they'd end up reporting this. The last thing I want to do is 

be in legal trouble for unknowingly supporting an illegal drug usage activity, and the last 

thing I wanted to do was be placed in a group home, 

or have my mom put in prison. I also didn't know what would happen to me, if I'd end up getting 

accused of drug use even though I didn't do it, much less, never even knew about it. 

It was so bad that I've cried myself to sleep every single night from age 9 to age 22, and all 

I wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up and wished I was dead... 

So, about 2, maybe 3 years ago, I was able to convince my mom to get out of that mess. I was 

able to convince her to leave him. So, one day while he was gone, we packed up and left, and 

have been living alone ever since the summer of 

2008, and have both been much better off in life. But I'm still afraid to say any of this to 

counselors for the same exact fear. So it's still in my mind being covered up, still causing so 

much pain just from the thought of it. I 

often still get bent out of shape over it, because it still hurts that it happened and nothing 

I was able to do about it. If only he didn't have those problems I mentioned, he would be a great 

guy, so it often upsets me because he isn't the person I wish he could be.. He looked like my dad, 

so it reminded me of him and I wish he could have been more like my dad, but he was completely 

opposite. I still miss the guy too even though he was like that. It still hurts too since I 

have to keep it in and can't really tell anyone and get it off my chest, because of both the 

fear of what might happen, as well as putting myself into too much pain by telling or writing it.. 

It really is so much more painful talking about it than it was to live it... But I'm just 

living for the night.. :(

I am sorry to bring all of this drama about my life to you. But I just hope that it will help you after 

seeing someone else who has had very troubling times and somewhat got through them, it 

will give you hope too. That is my original intention with this life story, to inspire people!!