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In the third grade I didn’t know how to spell tadpole. For every letter I missed my dad would whip me across my back with a leather belt until I would bleed.
I realized it was me. I was the one that had the problem. That was the first step in getting the help that I needed.
People disappear all the time and nobody would have ever known what happened to them. It was my intent to kill them for what they had done to me.
It was just terrible. So I’m taking the medicine and I am correctly diagnosed but I’m still not really feeling any better. I’m not free from this bipolar.
We tried everything possible to make his life normal. He studied in a very good school. He tried to study hard and behave very well. Nevertheless, society had a hard time accepting him.
In attempt to find out how to best answer the girls we started reading the Bible together, and listening to Christian radio. We didn’t attend church for a while. Christian radio was our church.
I had a big head and a big attitude to go along with it. I had the house, cars, the boat; the middle class dream. All of a sudden I started making some real bad choices.
I did the empty chair procedure. I asked my father all these questions. Then I was to get up and sit in the chair and answer the questions. This didn’t make a bit of sense to me but I did it.
So I told my doctor I was leaving. Now this was a cancer research facility where people don’t leave alive. They can’t keep you there, so my wife’s brother drove my wife and I back to Chattanooga. I felt better just because I ...