When I was a small child I would tremble with fear and hide underneath my covers every night hoping that the hideous monster that lived under my bed would not devour me in one bite. I mean I would literally keep my head covered for three to four hours at a time a pee to bed instead of going to the bathroom, knowing I was going to get in trouble because I wet to bed. AAn ass whooping wash better than getting eaten by a monster, that I actually would see or thought I would see! The sheer and utter fear running through my veins I can’t relate in mere words. I would see a ghost as I shivered in fright, hear things that only I heard, and see things no one else saw. I would do almost anything to keep from being alone.
(I DREADED BEING BY MYSELF.)
I would spend days with friends over or be at their house. I had tons of friends, needed them all as they were my lifeline, my pulse, so to speak. If I wasn’t alone the fear was far less. I am sure this drove my parent’s nuts as I was always asking if someone could spend the night or if I could stay over at their house.
Now when they would say no, I thought that I might die! I mean if someone was staying over there was a less chance of the monster or ghost getting me, can’t they see that I “NEEDED” them, my friends!
My father had no patience with me whatsoever and this bothered me a lot. I always felt as though he didn’t spend enough time with me, and this scared me. Now, don’t let me say it was just me. He never said I love you to any of us kids or to my mother, for that matter. My father did do things with us, it just seems like it wasn’t enough for me for whatever reason, not sure why. I do know that I have always wanted my dad to say I love you! I must tell you he did not say those words until I was thirty-three years old and it was one of the best days of my life! I was just beaming.
Now let me tell you this was not all my dads fault, back then they knew less about bi-polar and ADHD and this made it hard for our family relations and no one understood me and now I can see why. Please know that no one does anything to hurt other people. They do the best with what they have at that present in time in there reality.
(YOU’D THINK THAT I HAD JUST GOTTEN A NEW CAR OR SOMETHING!)
I am not trying to paint a negative picture of my father; it’s just that he was from the old school where men didn’t share their emotions very much. I know that now and understand it, but that does not mean that I like it because I don’t but being a father now I can understand where he was coming from and why he had to do what he was thaughttaught and I in return, raise my children in a totally different way. I must say the way chidsChilds are today maybe just maybe they should let some of this discipline ease it’sits way back into child rearing! I truly feel that that sort of upbringing hurts a child in many ways! I tell my children I love them sometimes up to four times a day and I feel that it helps them to grow up knowing that someone cares about them. I don’t, however, believe my father had anything to do with the fact that I could literally not stand to be alone!
Then there was the problem of the endless amount of energy that I had. Wasn’t sure where it came from or how to get rid of it, or what to do about it! Energy that I always had.
(GO?GO?GO?GO?)
Never slowing down, energy always there, without fail. My mind would race for hours upon hours?a lot of things to do! Yes, I was hyperactive, wasn’t sure why. Just wanted to slow down! I wanted to cry!
(I WANTED TO SLEEP FOR A CHANGE!)
This affected me everywhere, at school and at home. I was always interrupting everyone and getting yelled at for it, I could not slow down, I was always getting in trouble in school, getting yelled at home and I was alfulawful anxious all the time like being on pins and needle all day long and after awhile it would strartstart to hurt! I would never shut up, I mean I would go on and on and this drove my parents and teachers nuts. At times, I thought they were going to wring my neck!
I remember back in first grade I was always getting into trouble for talking out aloud and interrupting the class. At times I could not stay in my seat, always had to be moving, I mean what do they expect from me I was only seven at the time and I was born prematurely and I think this gave me a predisposing to have a mental health disorder, I am sure of it now looking back! The only thing that saved me was the fact that my first grade teacher loved me; she treated me like a king! Yet at times, she had to be firm with me, putting me in the corner, or sending me on one of my frequent visits to the principal’s office. I remember going to the pricplesprinciples off often and I would see Mr. KrinkyCranky and we all called him, Mr. Twinkie, I remember slipping once and calling him Mr. Twinkie, and let me tell you he let loose on me and my ass was red and throbbing, I really could barley sit down for real! Lambert was a true angel, even when she would sit me in the corner with the dunce hat on. When I stop and think back to those days, I remember I couldn’t stand those stupid hats. What a terrible way to punish someone, to make them wear a damn hat.
(HOW EMBARRASSING!)
Yet I remember clearly that this was the practice in the real early seventies. I guess it was better than going to the principal’s office to get a whack!
I mean you are sitting in the class roam and everyone was looking at you in the corner wearing that big white hat and you knew you were going to get laughed at recess, yes they would tease me but I was always ready to fight!
Needless to say I didn’t do too well in first grade; actually I got held back. At that point in my life it wasn’t too bad, as I was too young to realize the true significance of being held back. Yet I can remember telling myself that I was a dummy and wasn’t smart enough. You would think that they could see that since I was so hyper and did poorly in school that I had ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder), yet nobody even considered the fact that I may have had a mental illness. This puzzles me to this day. You would think that our family physician would have realized that I had ADHD, but he didn’t and oh, how this would have helped me greatly if I could have had my Ritalin, because I’m not sure I can explain how hard schoolwork was for me.
(I MEAN IT WAS TOUGH!)
I CAN HONESTLY SAY THAT SINCE I HAVE BEEN ON RITALIN I CAN NOW SAY I HAVE CREATIVE TALENT THAT WAS NOT PRESENT BEFORE!
Being held back was made a little more tolerable because one of my best friends got was held back also. His name was Kevin and we were great fiends. We played together every day. Either heHe was at my house or I was at his, or we were up at the school playing football or basketball or baseball, we played them all. This was back when you didn’t have to worry about your kids playing outside. We were only six or seven and, we could go three blocks away, and play until the streetlights came on, then it was time to get home. AndIn addition, I always went home, because I did not want to get my dad after me, that I cancould tell ya. His wrath was terrifying. All he had dodone was look at me and I behaved, of this I can assure you. AndIn addition, if I didn’t listen it was off with the belt, and let me tell you he let me have it! I was terrified of my father. This was back in the days when discipline was still allowed, and let me add we listened!
Now don’t think my father was all bad because he wasn’t, just to me everything bad I remember was REALLY BAD, and good stuff doesn’t seem so good as I go back into my childhood life!
Now my mother was much easier, yet if we pushed her to the limit she would really let us have it. I received hundreds of spankings by my mom! They wouldn’t hurt that bad at all, but I dared not laugh or she would really let loose, so I always acted like it really hurt. We didn’t want to push her too far, however, because then she would tell DAD.
(AND THEN IT WAS LIGHTS OUT!)
When that happened we were honestly scared the rest of the afternoon because whenever we didn’t obey my mother my dad would tear into us really good. That was one thing my father would not accept?not respecting our mother?and it was off with the belt and I mean when they say you won’t be able to sit down for a week, it was true, because he would let us have it! Needless to say I only received two or three spankings from my dad, that’s all; I knew better than to push my mom that far!
Now do I believe you should be spanked? Great question and I would say it depends. Now I don’t spank and to tell you the truth I probably should the way my children treat there mother is a tragedy so say the least! I mean if they ever talk to me like that I would lower the boom on them, so basically if I would spank it would a love just hard enough so they knew they wouldn’t want another!
Now let me tell you about the time I lit the front porch on fire. I took gasoline and put it under the porch in our secret hideout. Our house was absolutely huge. I mean gigantic is a word that better described it; you could literally get lost in it! The porch went from one side of the house and two-thirds of the way around to the other side. Now, there were about five blocks missing on our front porch, enabling us to crawl under there and play. It was a cool place to play; all the neighbor kids and I loved to play under there.
Well one day my friend David and I decided to play under there. I had this bright idea?why not dig a hole and then get all the gas out of the garage and start a fire? I thought to myself, what could it hurt? The fire would stay in the hole we dug, how could anything go wrong? Well, I’m sure you can figure out that this spelled certain disaster and you are right! Before you know it the whole front porch on fire! We didn’t know what to do!
“Hurry,” I said to David, “go get the hose from the side of the house, we gotta get this thing out, or my dad is going to kill me!”
I was frantically throwing dirt on it but could not get it to stop! My worst fear happened?I had caught the house on fire! I needed to go for help. I ran into the house screaming to my mother, “The house is on fire, the house is on fire!”
As you might imagine, this sealed my doom. The next thing I knew the fire department was down to the house and I was sitting in a chair inside crying! Once the flames were all put out, in came my mother, who was fit to be tied?and who could blame her? You want to know the scary part? She just let me sit in the chair for an hour, not speaking to me. I knew I was in deep trouble because this meant I had to face my father. Let me tell you, I never set anything on fire ever again. Still, I think with my ADHD and an overactive mind my parents weren’t able to handle me at times, and this is understandable. I needed that Ritalin and didn’t get it.
So yeah some of it was the fact that I was hyper and was always trying to get into some kind of trouble, but a part of me could not help, I really mean that, I really felt as though I had to be doing something all the time, even if it meant getting in trouble.
Anyway, back to my school days. As I mentioned, I was held back in the first grade, and this really wasn’t that bad, because the teacher was always in my corner. She loved me.
(I WAS THE CLASS CLOWN!)
I would spurt out things here and there and even the teacher would crack up. I still had to sit in the dunce’s corner sometimes but not as much as I did the first year. I rarely had to go to the principal’s office anymore, so that was good. Everyone loved me! I was king of the class! Man did it feel good, so yes the second year was easier than the first. What’s more, I honestly could remember some of the material from the first year and I received decent grades, which was rare for me in grade school, because I couldn’t understand the stuff.
In spite of that, I was still always getting in trouble for running in the halls. Walking just wasn’t fast enough for me, because I always had to go?go?go?. One time I was running down the hall and was just about to turn the corner and
(WHAM!)
I ran right into a teacher carrying an old record player (remember, this was in the days before CD’s). There I was, blood all over; you know how a head wound bleeds.
Wouldn’t have been so bad except I had to get stitches and that was when I started screaming. I was petrified of doctors and hospitals. It literally took six people to hold me down, this I can remember. I screamed and screamed and carried on like they were going to take out a kidney without any anesthetics. I really don’t know how the doctor was able to sew me up. You would think that would give someone an idea that I had a mental illness, yet still no one caught on. I think my actions as a kid clearly showed that I had ADHD. I just wish that someone would have figured it out; it would have saved me tons of pain! Although I had plenty of the symptoms, I wasn’t put on Ritalin until I was thirty-three.
I can honestly tell you if you do indeed do have ADD or ADHD the Ritalin really does help and you can finally think things through and understand things that never seemed possible to me, as if I never wrote a book until after I received Ritalin, so you be the judge?
I must say when I passed first grade, I was kinda sad. I mean I really loved Mrs. Lambert. We became good friends and she had a positive effect on my life. Even years down the road I have always gone back and, stopped in, and visited her.
Now let’s talk about my nightmares. They were terrifying and paralyzing at the same time, and half the time I would swear they were real!
Not sure if my having ADHD was one of the reasons for seeing and hearing things, but they were so real to me. Live ghosts sucking out my very last breath. Watch out! A skeleton running wildly after me from the bathroom. Oh, how I hated nighttime. How I feared the darkness. As the day crept closer to night I’d feel worse and worse, without fail. I knew that hell was right around the corner and was ready to appear with all the bastards eagerly waiting to take their turn to make my life a worthless mess and a living hell.
(IT WAS JUST AROUND THE CORNER!)
I CAN BE BRUTALLY HONEST WITH YOU, STILL TO THIS DAY HAVE NIGHTMARES, HIT THE WALL WHILE I AM SLEEPING, FALL OUT OF BED, YELL AND SCREAM IN MY SELP AND DON’T EVEN KNOW I AM DOING IT UNTIL MY WIFE OR KIDS TELL ME SO, SO NIGHTIME REALLY IS NOT MUCH FUN FOR ME AT TIMES STILL!
When the sun went down, it would take me hours upon hours to get to sleep; I’d toss and turn all night long. I would wake up and it would feel like I just went to bed! I would never get any rest; I felt as tired as or worse than when I lay down. It was very painful, the continuous and sheer energy without a safety shut-off switch.
(OH, HOW I LOVED THE DARK!) (NOT!)
I would never just go to bed and fall asleep. Never. I would I just lie there under my covers and fear the darkness with a passion, and my mind just loved this. It would create things that I could be afraid of. How about this, it would say, and that, and then I would just dwell on its suggestions.
(A TERRIBLE THING TO DO!)
Without even wanting to I just made matters worse and worse. My mind would never shut off, not sure why.
I really think I was my own worst enmyenemy because anytime some thing went wrong. I would mangnifymagnify it a thousand times over and over until I would get sick yes I threw up very often when I got all worked up and woldwould not stop for a couple of days, my Dr. always said he will grow out of it! Guess what I am thirty -seven and I still haven’t grown out of it?
I do know one reason I was so afraid of the dark?because of the closet incident. That really terrified me and made matters far worse than they needed to be! But more on that later. Here I’ve been telling you this story of my life and I haven’t even introduced my family yet.
(PLEASE FORGIVE ME!)
I am the youngest of four boys. My oldest brother, Jeff, is about eleven years older than I am. As siblings go we never really had too many problems. He was the one who always helped me with my homework, especially math?he was great at that! Yet later it was from his and my brother Bill’s room where I would get some of my marijuana and other drugs. They lived up in the attic, which went over the whole house, man they were lucky!
Jeff was the one I would always steal from, and not just drugs! I’d take his change. I think what really pissed him off was when I took from his coin collection, man was he mad. Yet he could never prove that I did it, even though he knew it was me! I would also steal from our lunch money fund (we all did), and my dad’s coin collection, so don’t let me sit here and tell you I was a perfect child because I was not. I was ornery and I have always wanted to have money!
(WHO DOESN’T?)
My next brother was Bill, a few years younger than Jeff. I really don’t remember having a lot of problems with him either, yet there had to be some. Well, there was one time that comes to mind. He had gotten a new pump BB gun, and we were all fascinated with it and thought he was hot shit. We were outside one day after it had rained. Well, he told me, “Take off your shoe and put it in that water puddle, then I’ll shoot your foot.” Now he assured me that it wouldn’t hurt because the water would stop the BB. Being the gullible little brother that I was, I said sure! Let me state here that I really believed him, really believed that it would not hurt and the BB would be stopped. So I put my foot in the water and then
BAM!
Man, I started screaming, “Mom, mom!” Yes, it hurt, and man was I screaming and crying. Needless to say I would not have loved to have been Bill when my dad got home! I really don’t hold any hard feelings against him, we were just being kids. It’s just sometimes you are on the receiving end, and I guess that day it was my turn to receive.
(DARN IT!)
Then there was my brother James. He was just a year and a half older than me, and we never got along, never. We were always fighting for some reason, and he always won. I was just a small runt after all! I mean a really small runt and he would kill me all the time. There were plenty of times when I asked for it, yet he would really let me have it and of course, I was the type who had to have the last word no matter what. Even when he had just whooped my butt, out came more from my mouth and he didn’t like that and would give me some more. I mean he was ruthless and used to kick my butt, I really mean, kick my butt. Please know he was not all that bad, as he was the one who always protected me from bullies, because I was small but had a big mouth. I’m just being honest here.
I’ve already talked a little about my mom. Even though she could be tough, we almost always deserved it, that I can assure you. Mom and I got along great most of the time. I was her baby and got away with murder at times, and oh, how I loved my mom, we were very close and whenever a problem came up it was always Mom, Mom, Mom, and she would always come running to help me. I will never forget the love she extended to me! I have very fond memories of my mother and the things we would do together. She was our den leader in Boy Scouts and Webelos.
Last but not least, there was Dad. Let me tell you, I love my father and was always looking for his approval, as it meant so much to me that I can’t explain it to you in words. I don’t want to paint a picture of my dad like he was this tyrant; you just have to remember what time frame this was and how he had been raised. He came from an era when you listened to your folks, and he made sure that was the case in our house. My children even mind him.
(HOW HE PULLS THIS OFF IS BEYOND ME.)
My dad did make a big effort to spend time with us kids. When we were in Boy Scouts he was the scoutmaster. This wasn’t easy, as he was always working to support our family. I must tell you those are some of my fondest moments that I have of my father and me spending time together and I cherish them to this day! So Dad was not all bad and don’t let me sit here and tell you he was, because that is not the case.
I remember one time at scout camp this mean guy tried to get me to eat this crap I didn’t want and he mad me sit there for a few hours, well to make a long story short my dad finally figured out that I was not around and he found out what was going on, I saw him running up the hill and yelling this other guy and when I saw dad I started to cry! Let me tell you that other got his ass beat, dad clean his clock and that was the last time I ever had a problem with that fellow.
Now that you’ve met my family, let me tell you about an incident that had a huge effect on my young life. One day my mom was giving my brother James and me a bath, and we were playing and have a good old time! Fighting for this toy and that one, I mean really driving our mother crazy; this was when we were small children, of course. Anyway, we were playing and my brother got really mad at me for some reason. Suddenly he yelled out,
“YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER, YOU WERE ADOPTED!”
Oh, how I didn’t understand this! Why wasn’t I told? What was wrong with me that my biological mother and father did not want me? I must truly be unlovable! How could they have lied to me all these years? Who was I really? Was there something wrong with me? I was only five years old yet the questions just started to pour out! Did I belong here? Did they really want me? Was I truly loved? I cried and cried for the longest time! How could this happen to me? I was now a misfit. I belonged to no one and no one really loved me the way I should be loved.
Right or wrong, young as I was, that’s the way that I felt! These were just some of the questions that go through a small child’s mind and mine was very active and never really slowed down, and the questions just kept coming one right after the other. The more I would think of it the worse I would feel! You have the mind of a child and then
WHAM, IT HITS YOU!
A huge task of trying to sort something out that many young adults and older adults have trouble with, let alone a five-year-old, and with the way my mind worked it spelled certain disaster and terrible results to follow! I can’t remember much back to that point, yet I can tell you I never really got over it and to this day it is one of my least favorite things to remember. I can’t recall all the details. I just know that that night in the bathtub changed me forever and by now I am sure you can tell that it wasn’t for the good. Oh, how I longed to be part of something that was real. Everything up to that point was all just a dream and my reality was shattered.
(DAMMIT, THAT HURT ME BAD!)
Then there was the time that someone locked me in a closet for three hours. Yes this terrified me. (And no, it wasn’t my parents who locked me in there.) I believe that this is why I have always been afraid of the dark and nighttime. I remember yelling and screaming and kicking the door until my hands and feet were throbbing with pain!
(I HAD TO GET OUT!)
(WONDERING IF I WAS GOING TO LIVE!)
(WAS THAT HIDEOUS MONSTER GOING TO GET ME?)
Was this where I first got the idea of the monsters and ghosts? I can’t remember how old I was; all I can tell you about this is that it terrified me and that
I NEVER REALLY HAVE GOTTEN OVER THE PAIN OF THAT EXPERIENCE!
Why would someone do such a cruel thing? Not sure! I can’t even remember who did this to me at all, but what I can tell you is that it really messed me up bad and made my life a living hell. Oh, how I feared the dark and nighttime from then on; it was like going to hell at age five or six. Every day for a long, long time afterward I kept reliving the closet feelings over and over. I can’t even explain to you how I felt and how hard I was screaming for a solid straight three hours. I really thought I was going to die!
(OH HOW MY THROAT WAS RAW!)
When would it end? What kind of childhood did I have? You tell me! When remembering back it is like a picture of an abstract painting with thousands and thousands of colors but with only the opportunity to see black and white. Schoolwork continued to be hard for me and only got worse. I just couldn’t understand what the teachers were saying.
(IT WENT IN ONE EAR AND OUT THE OTHER.)
Oh, how I longed to be like the kid next door! Oh, how the creatures and the dreaded ghosts and the hideous monsters and let’s not leave out the Master of Darkness
(JUST AN EXPRESSION OF THE DARKNESS AND HOW IT ALL MADE ME FEEL)
would be thrilled with their plan.
Pain would be their main theme, a life of pain! They all could see that it was working like the Master’s dream come true! The hellish nightmares continued night after night and if you must know, I still have weird and whacked out dreams sometimes that remind me of a time long ago, but they are finally toning down now that I am thirty-three and well on the road to recovery. Sleep is still something to be desired at times but not very often, only once in a blue moon, I might add. With a lot of hard work I am getting better and the pain is almost gone! From time to time it rears its ugly head, but the Master knows he should have gotten me when he had his chance! I believe one day that I shall be free of all the pain.
(OH, HOW THE MASTER OF DARKNESS HATES THOUGHTS AND WORDS LIKE THESE.)
Anyway, when I was a kid things went well enough that I could function and appear normal
(WHATEVER THAT IS)
to the untrained eye. HEY, you can’t breathe yet, it’s just starting. Fifth grade? that’s when things started getting worse.
(WORSE? JUST LISTEN.)
I got put in LD. How embarrassing, me with a learning disability, no way. I did so poorly in fifth grade that they decided to ship me to another school that had an LD program. I needed to be put in two LD classes, math and English. I was literally devastated. I would have to make new friends and this scared me; I did not like this idea at all and I told my parents that. I cried and cried. What was wrong with me that I had to be put into special classes? Lost all my friends, how could I go on, what was I gonna do? At that point I thought about giving up and ending it all! At the tender age of twelve I thought my life was over! A new school and the embarrassment of the special classes I was put in.
(WHEN WOULD THIS CRAP END, WHEN WOULD I GET A BREAK?)
The master was licking his lips; he had almost won! The life he sought after was almost his, but then a funny thing happened. I saw a tiny ray of light and hope.
(YOU WOULD THINK I WOULD REMEMBER THE TURNING POINT. I CAN’T, BUT THAT DAY I SAW HOPE FOR THE FIRST TIME!)
I told myself that I would work as hard as I could and get out of those funny LD classes, as I thought of them as for dorks or someone lesser than myself. Now I know they are just people like you and me with their own crosses to bear.
(PLEASE DON’T JUDGE AS YOU MAY BE THE NEXT ONE WHO IS IN THE MASTER’S PLAN!)
Somehow I knew I was going to win deep down inside but it would take years to realize that dream. Slowly but surely my grades started to improve and I saw hope.
(YES, I SAID THAT POWERFUL WORD HOPE.)
But the Master of the Night wasn’t about to let me get away with a positive thought like that. That’s when he let out the furious attack that led to the smoking of dad’s pipe! Seems innocent enough but if you only knew what a long and winding road this was going to take me down you would honestly cry for hours trying to find a way so this horrible story of pain and suffering would not have to happen in anyone’s life now or ever.
Going to the new school wasn’t so bad after all. Everyone thought I was a cool kid and all the girls wanted to go out with me, and they didn’t seem to mind that I was in those funny classes. You know how it is for the new kid; everyone likes him, including all the girls. After I had gotten used to it, I actually liked my new school and it was really fun and I was more popular at the new school than I ever was at the old one.
(I THOUGHT I WAS HOT SHIT.)
The coolest part of going to the new school was the fact that one day during gym, I hit my future wife in the face with a ball while we were playing dodge ball. I had to sit out the rest of gym because of that. I didn’t know that she would be my wife then; I didn’t even start to go out with her until a few years after high school. I didn’t even know her name at the time, as she was not in the “in crowd,” as us cool kids put it.
(POPULAR!)
I did just fine in the new school and passed the sixth grade, thank God. I really don’t think I could have handled another setback. I mean I failed first grade and almost failed fifth, I would have lost my marbles if I would have failed sixth. I didn’t start kindergarten until I was six because they said I was too immature and I am sure they were right. Just look at the tough time that I had in grade school.
Now it was off to junior high. Man, I thought I was a cool dude, only two years away from high school. My problems, unfortunately, only escalated.
Now I have to let you know that after starting school late and then failing I was a small kid because of the premature thing I am sure of, I could not play sports because I was too old for my grade. Now how do you think that makes you feel? You cannot play sports and you feel about so big and not in a good way! Therefore, this pushed me to the party crowed and this almost sealed my doom!
Best Wishes and Lot’s of Love,
Arthur Buchanan
Out of Darkness & Into the Light
209 Ellis Ave. Suite 1313
Bellevue, Ohio44811
567-217-1133 (Home)
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