Sometimes life's being a bitch can get us when we least expect it. Some of us are lucky with life. Friends, Family, Money, Cars the "top notch" life stlye than there are the others. This is my untold story. The True story of my life, a tale of deceit, heart break, and betrayal and ultimatly my demise. My favorite part of Greek mythogly is the Phoneix, even in death it got new life. Like myself i have lived through hell, battled on and came back for another round, thats right moterfuckers im still here! But it seems my life contradicts itself, with brutal irony one moment, and the next a blissful happy scene with flowers and bunnies. The last time i could actually recall feeling anything but the pain of what i call today was more recently. my friends saved myself from my own destruction from going down my path of what i do. The last time i ever felt so good about myself was july 1993, before my life went into this battle ground. The first piece of helplessness was when i watched my father walk out on me and my family, i let him leave. July 23rd 1993. I can still hear his last words "I'm only going to an AA meeting, i will be back in the morning to play power rangers bud, I promise" Those words resignate in my mind still to this day, the pain of such a loss at a young age, the abuse he placed on my mother. When ever he came back it was with the names, the hitting. I built a hate towards this man, an inner rage. I ate my pain away at a young age, by 5 i was 130 pounds and had a big ol bottle of hate building. With the years going by and my hate for my father only growing more and more as the days went, Wondering why dont i have a dad their to play baseball with? to teach me how to skate? why? Just a world of whys? And which every why i had came a detiontion... i was the school bully in elementary my rage and hate were on the brink of destroying everything. I was finally changed in grade 5 when i was put in a program for troubled youth, i became captain of the patrols the year later. With such a change in my life, a positive one my confidence was higher than ever. but my weight was bottom line dangerous. By grade 7 i was 310 pounds. Every pound had its story, its pain... its hurt. No girl would look at me, not even talk without laughing. I felt helpless. Than i met football and oh the thing called extremist. I took drastic Measures that first year, i was down to 230 by grade 8, i starved myself and nearly died because of it. Because i believed in a system where i had to be skinny to be attractive. Another passion i had was theatre, it helped me vent in that i didnt have to live with being me, i could be someone else. it was my mask. It let me pretend i had everything i didnt. Finally a day that forever changed me... July 23rd 2003. the death of my father for the second time... i recgret this day for one thing. I lied to alot of people of my final moments with my dad. No i did not have a thumb war with him, no i did not call him names, nor did i forgive him. I just sat there looked at him. And simplt said “What the fuck” and that was all, i touched his face the cold skin yea not cool, the sounds of life support i feel however will forever stick in my mind.