Canadiangrizzly at Robert Land Academy

This testimony was made on LiveJournal. All rights goes to the original author known as Canadiangrizzly:

I would like to start out with saying, I am not very good in sticking to any particular order in a story and it will more than likely jump around in time and content quite a bit, here goes it…

It all started when I was a young lad, my mother was unable to handle my ADHD (Attention Deficit, Hyperactive Disorder). Her was of dealing with it was lots of Diazepam and sending me off to specialist to find out, what she referred to as “What’s wrong with that boy, I know something is wrong with him”
I have quite a good memory, well at least had one; my first memories go way back to being bathed in the kitchen sink in the townhouse on Jane St. I remember the complex I grew up in very well.

Even though I was a loner, I remember having quite fond memories of my childhood, even though I suffered from Night terrors and wet my bed till the age of 12.
I always had problems relating to others around me, I wasn’t really interested in others,
In socializing, or pretending to be other people, or in typical boyish “Kill them all games”. more of exploring the world around me, I preferred to spend my time in nature, or taking things apart to see what made them work.

I was always disruptive in school, mostly because I couldn’t handle being number 31 in a large classroom, later they would discover I learned more on a one to one basis.
They eventually placed me in special education classes, where I remained, until they finally removed them from our local education system.

I grow up in a typical suburban family, (At the time, Typical) a mother, Father, Much older brother, older sister, a dog and a cat.

Now going back to the specialists, I rather enjoyed the tests they gave me to perform and would rather enjoy doing them as fast and best I could. I remember my mother being told I was above normal intelligence. My father was never at any of these appointments.
In growing up in his German background, was taught work above all else.
So most of my childhood, he was off at work.

All was fine, until that one specialist, from Sick children’s hospital, in Toronto, A Dr Mc Govern, I believe his name was. I don’t really remember much about the man, other then he kept referring to some kind of monkey on my back. I thought he was rather a strange man.

Well turns out he was on the board of directors for this new type of school that opened up, So of course he recommended that I went there, for improvements. It was on a military based system. Everyone was reduced to a last name and lived the typical military themed lifestyle.

Now of course, to make my transition easier, I had never lived away from home at this point. At least that’s what I will assume for the moment. I was sent off there ASAP, to the summer camp. Now the summer camp and school had absolutely nothing in common, quite contradictory to each other, in fact.
The Summer Camp was for mentally challenged kids, arts and crafts orientated.
I rather had some fond memories, even though I also couldn’t relate to any of these kids either.

After the summer ended, I went home for a brief period, till the start of the school year at Robert Land Academy.
As for this children of this school, they were the ones that were either sent their by the courts, for punishment, or sent there by their rich parents who were also unable to control their children. My parents on the other hand forked out $13,000/year to send me there.


Now this is where everything went down hill in my life, I have had nightmares of this place for many years after.

I remember arriving there on the first day; I was very scared to be in a place surrounded by so May strange people around me. Everyone was in a hurry to get sighed in and find out where they were assigned to sleep.

Now in a military theme, a person enters as a recruit, after completing 6 weeks of training, are given a medal for their barrette, and given the lowest possible rank, cadet.
Now I was having problems right from the very start.

Ok this is how the routine went, as much of it as I can remember.
For the first 6 weeks, every day we were to wake up at 5:30 and run to the stop sign and run back, I of course would be one of the last to return, I will assume for this, the stop sigh was about half a km away, maybe even 1.5 Km. Once we returned to our barracks, We had 30 min to shower, get dressed and make our beds, hospital corners and all.
The night before we were to have shone our boots, ironed everything to perfection and have everything put away with absolute perfection.
I of course always had at least one or two things wrong.
I would end up having double creases in a shirt or two, my boots I could never get that spit shine polish, I still can’t do one to this day. And let’s say for the argument, my bed, sheet fold over was 4 inches too much.
Well I would be made to run around a lap track, at first I would be given 5 laps.
Which at the time, would take me a long time to accomplish, now since I was not able to complete the laps within a time limit that made them happy, so many laps were not counted. So I would end up running around in circles for hours on end.
Now, most of the time I was running these laps, was at times like Lunch, Study hall time or even when I was supposed to do my evening prep.
So of course I would end up not having my homework done, or my kit up to regulation standard.
Now this is where the military style kicks in. In order to try and “Motivate me”. They would punish everyone in the barracks I was assigned to. Thus making everyone hate me in the end, even pull nasty pranks on me when the officer’s heads were turned away (Of course).
I was bounced around from barracks to barracks, until no one wanted me to be in theirs.
So in the end I was stuck in a barracks that no one else was in. all by myself.
In the meantime, the 6 weeks had ended.
I saw everyone else, become cadet and advance up to the lowest rank, I however not only managed to remain a recruit after the 6 weeks but, also ended up keeping that rank for the entire time I was enrolled at this school.

I tried keeping up with everyone else, but I would just end up getting something wrong. Everything I did just was never good enough.
All I ended up doing was running around a lap track, most times even with a vest with sand bag weights, When something would become a bit easier, they would make it harder. Every time becoming harder and mush more difficult. Their punishment style would also change. At first it would be laps, then laps with weights, then a 14 and finally a 19.
As well as the above mentioned punishment, we would have to do certain physical exercises for punishment during lunch. Push ups, thrust squats, stand with our arms up and our palms up in the air.

Now even in the middle of all of this going on, I managed to have one best friend in all of this. He was the first boy I ever experimented with sexually. He was the one person who made it not so bad to be stuck in a nightmare place, like it was.

Now, in the meanwhile, the punishments would grow and grow, I was given only bread and milk for most of my meals, I was running around a lap track with weights most of the time and no one wanted me to be in their barracks.
I also had this one teacher who, of course had to make it that one bit harder.
His name was Mr. Sue. This teacher was a classic of corporal punishment.
I remember things like one kid asking to go to the bathroom during class was denied and of course ended up wetting himself in his very seat. I remember he would ask me math equations and I remember when I would get the answers wrong, would pinch my cheeks and ears till they would bruise. I was very much afraid of this man as well as every officer on the campus.

I remember my mother asking me what happened and in self defence I told her I fell down. She of course accepted the answer I gave and never looked into it any further.

By this point I needed to get away from this environment as soon as I could.
So I arranged for my only friend and I to run away one night, my parents thought this was the best place for me, even though they never stopped to ask any questions or even try surprise visits during this time that I had bruises on my cheeks and ear lobes.
I mean a kid would have to fall not only repeatedly, but the places my bruises were, would have only resulted from one reason.
So back to the AWOL, We woke up very early in the morning, ran through the back woods and walked down the train tracks till we were eventually stopped by the police.
I remember they pulled their guns out and told us to stop and remain were we were.
I at this point was more that ready to just continue running, and let them shoot me if they so wanted to, but my friend told me we should just do what they say.
So back to the school,
Of course we were given even more punishment for attempted AWOL. My parents never even came to ask me why I tried running away or what was going on at this point.

This was the point I thought there was only two ways out…
We both discussed the idea and both decided my way would have been less painful.
His idea was to drink bleach and end our lives that way, mine was to mix Kwellada and orally ingest this combination.
I remember being called away to the office and made to stand with our faces against the wall what seemed to have been for hours, they would come out and ask us again, did we really ingest this stuff, I would say “yes sir” and not say anything else.
Finally they must have believed us and we were rushed to the emergency room and given activated charcoal.
After we left the hospital gets a little sketchy but, what I do remember is not only did the school put the blame all on my friend, but I was to remain at this school for another year and a half.
All traces of attempted suicide all hushed up, my parents never even asking me why, no Dr’s asked; I was not placed in any psychiatric care. Instead I was sent back to “Hell” for another year and a half, but this time, my best friend was kicked out.

If you were to look back at my history, you will see most of it was erased. I was never allowed to be in any year book pictures, no one wanted to know I existed any longer.

After a while everything just becomes a blur. Days melted into each other. I finally realized there was no escaping the nightmare I was in. So I just became numb.
Finally I was kicked out due to not being able to conform after 3 years and was sent home.
As yes a recruit.

I have brought all this up many times to my family.
My mother chooses to go into denial mode, she never knew.
My father’s response, one night at supper, he let me know I deserved everything I got in this place.

After leaving this place, it took me many years till I was finally able to trust anyone else.
I went to shrink after shrink; I even went to a teen youth treatment centre in the country.
Still in the back of my mind was to act like they want you to act and they will never get inside of your soul ever again.
Yes, there was one other suicide attempt.
After the years of nightmares and my parents denying knowing anything that happened, but when I would mention legal issues against the school, they would tell me to forget the idea and go back into denial mode.

I had a few relationships, but I never really connected with the other person, it was always a battle,
Just as I would start to let my walls down, they would do something to cause me to raise them again…


Finally I met him.
I remember the first night we connected. Going back to his place, he pulled out this book and asked me to answer a few questions. I was like, sure what ever gets your attention. It was the Myers Briggs Please understands me” book.
I remember he tallied up the results and came to the conclusion I was an INFP, something he said was %1 of the population and he was as well.
I became very interested in this individual. I was very much in awe at first, loved him right from the start, finally someone who wants to know me for who I was. I remember after a few days, telling him “I understand why someone would be in love with you”.
It was my way of testing the waters.
After a few weeks, I finally told him how much I loved him. I remember every time I would tell him I loved him, he would tell me I was not really in love with him and he didn’t believe me. Finally after 6 weeks went by, he came up to me in the kitchen, crying his heart out, there was something he was wanting to tell me, but too afraid to say anything, he though everything would change and I would not want to be with him any longer. I told him no matter what he told me, I would never leave him.
This is when he told me he had AIDS and knew for only a year at this point.
Even though I was a very confused man at this point in my life and had a hard time looking after myself, I knew I would never leave him.
If I could keep one promise ever in my life, it would be to be there for him.
Over the years we had our rough patches and I had made a lot of mistakes along the way, but I never stopped loving him.


I to be honest up until I met him, never though I would have connected with anyone else, I thought I would try and just get through life, just living was the basis of my drive.
Just make it through today and you will have survived yet another day.

Being with Lawrence taught me there is much more to life, more too just living another day. I finally felt wanted for the first time in my life.

We built up a home and I tried putting all my energy towards our home, but there was always this struggle.
He couldn’t deal with the fact he was poz and always saw his oncoming expiry date approaching.
This mixed with what I believe a fear of me catching what he had, put barriers up between us that I was unable to understand or deal with at that time in my life.

After a while, he found it very uncomfortable to touch me sexually and I at the time took it personally, thought he was no longer attracted to me, or even the balance of sex vers love shifted.
In gay relationships, men first connect by their sexual preferences, then try and make the personal connection based on that, then personality come in at second place.

I have met many a men where we would hit it of sexually, but I just wasn’t what they wanted in a relationship, or the opposite, we would get together and hit it off but, “Sorry, we are both bottoms and you will never be able to please me in bed”.

So my point is I would find myself start to wander towards other men. I love Lawrence very much, but all I wanted was for everything to go back to how it was at the beginning.
In that process I made quite a few mistakes.

We went through periods of breaking up and would get back together again.
I would eventually end up giving in to the no sex policy. I would have done anything at that point to remain with him.

Source:
The Story of my life, till now... (The original testimony from LiveJournal)