NoHeartTee9
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my message to MJ DeMarco: If you are reading this right now I want to thank you for finding it in your heart to share your experiences and exposing me to the truth of this cruel world..
my message to readers of this story:
I appreciate everyone who reads this whole thing through and gives me feedback. I hope to give inspiration and make the people who feel alone, not so alone
this is a long, but important and true story. I put my heart into this one. please, get your popcorn.
- Tee, a 17 year old with regained hope
————————————————————————
Ever since I can remember I stood apart from my peers in a social standpoint. Fitting in and wanting to be liked has been a struggle since the beginning of grade school. I accumulated a few good friends over the years, but was always ridiculed and ignored by the rest. Even my friends all have their knives they have put into my back at some point or another . I come from a broken home of neglect and rarely-existent love. I also come from a town in New Jersey filled with drug addicts and the occasional violence. I’m not going to tell you all my life story but I will recap the past year and how it has led me all up to this point. Suppressing my depression with nicotine, alcohol, social media, porn, and weed has been a prominent factor in my life especially over the last year. I was living with my mom in our two bedroom apartment last year where my only escape from her drug abusing boyfriend and constant arguments was my little home studio where I would write music about my struggles. Although, my emotions would never come out unless I was feeling them at that moment. My other escape was the routine parties almost every weekend with my best friend and his brother just to spend hundreds on alcohol and weed. I had a job at a shitty pizza place, but would occasionally sell weed to kids from my high school for some extra pocket cash.
I couldn’t even stand to be home and over this past summer I was living at my friends which was a free range household where there was blunts being passed around all hours of the day and constant mindless bickering from the people who stayed there. I got a knife pulled on me there when my exes boyfriend decided to show up over some petty bullshit. Overall , I was not in a good place physically or mentally. I would sometimes stop in to check in on my mom, but didn’t like to be there because of the situation she put me in. Her boyfriend who is a heroin addict and whom she has a baby with would break plates, tv’s, and my moms heart every single day. Yet, she chose that life and I do not feel sorry for her in the slightest. On a rainy day in June while i was at the weed house I got a call from my mother saying we were being kicked out our apartment and that there was no other place she could afford. She said we were going to move in with my grandparents who live 30 minutes out and we were going to figure out what to do from there. F*ck… not only do I now have to live with my mom and her boyfriend with no choice, I no longer will have my friends who provided me with the only company that kept me sane. Over the next few weeks I packed away my stuff and my tears of rage into a cardboard box.
We moved into my grandparents in July just a few days before my birthday. Even though my friends were only 30 minutes away, I still felt alone and afraid of what was to come. My grandparents made it very clear to my moms boyfriend that if he was going to stay there, there was going to be a very strict no-drug policy in place. He told them the same “i’m done with all that” story and same reassuring bullshit he would always tell my mom before she would send him to rehab. Of course they believed that.
On July 17th , the day of my birthday, we were sitting around the dinner table eating the home cooked ribs my grandfather made on the grill when all the sudden a door slammed. My moms boyfriend had come home from “the gym” aka his excuse to go pickup heroin. I didn’t even care enough to tell any of them the lies i could see coming straight from his mouth. He came in the door high as a kite and my grandparents could tell immediately he wasn’t sober. Yelling ensued for the next 2 hours as he was being packed away to rehab. I sat on my bed which was a couch and thought about how ending my life would be better then all this pain I was feeling. Happy birthday to me right. I did have a choice of somewhere else to stay, but just the thought of it made my stomach turn. My fathers.
Me and my father have a very bad past. He was never a father in my eyes. I used to live with him part time when he was staying with my grandmother. When I had officially moved in with my mom years ago, the burden was lifted off his chest and he moved in with his girlfriend and started living a better life. I thought about it more and more as the days passed and my mental health got worse. I came to a decision that even though my father was never a father to me in the past , moving in with him and his girlfriend would be better than my current situation. I called him to tell him what was going on and he told me I was welcome to stay in the guest room. Other than dealing with his perfectionist bullshit he would project onto me even though he couldn’t live in his own words, I would also have to leave all my friends for good and rarely ever be able to see them. The risk for a healthier household seemed smart though. When I told my mom she cried for days and would say, “but i can try to get us a place!” or “it won’t be that bad here, you can just finish out your senior year here at grandmas and figure out your life after.” Yeah and be trapped with Heroin Harry when he makes his return from rehab and convinces my mom to beg my grandparents to let him back in ? No thanks. It’s hard seeing the mother I once knew, keep letting this parasite into our family. Not only was he disrespecting us, he was destroying the whole family’s relationship. My little brother who is currently 9 months old is going to be one f*cked up kid if this continues. I don’t want him to have to experience what I’ve dealt with for the past 17 years. If I could go back to 8 year old me and give him a hug.. maybe I wouldn’t be so cold as I am today.
Anyways, back to moving in with dad. My father lives with his girlfriend about an hour from my grandparents house in a small little run down town in Pennsylvania called Catasaqua. A weird town with only 600 kids that go to the school. They live in a nicer part of the town though in a 3 bedroom townhouse with a finished basement. This was definitely a step up from my past situation as I had not lived like this in a long time nor was i any longer paying for my own basic needs. Since my dad doesn’t have a large rent to pay to his girlfriend since she owns the house, he has money to afford a lot more things. A lot of which he spends on bullshit like his three spoiled, miniature, ankle biting canines. Or his surround sound 60 inch tv equipped with the latest Xbox series X. Even though Dad has some money now he is still the same criticizing son of a bitch he’s always been. No disrespect, even though you try to put me down in every way possible, I still love you dad. The “your never going to amount to anything” look greets my eyes every time I cross paths with him. “Hard work pays off. Go above and beyond for bosses and you’ll see how respected you become. “ Why not go above and beyond for myself Dad ? Why kiss my bosses a$$ when I’m literally doing things he tells me to do ? If anything he should be kissing mine. He depends on me to get his dirty work done. “Everything is always a F*cking argument with you. You always have an excuse for everything.” Yeah just like how you always used to have an excuse when I would ask you to hang out.
When I moved in it was late august, a week before school started. I was approaching life from a different point of view now and attempting to turn around my life. I was going to have to meet new people and somehow form relationships with them so I can live out my dream senior year accordingly. Welp, let’s just say that didn’t happen. I have that “dirty white boy look” as they call it. I have a few face piercings and bloodshot eyes in the morning from my insomnia. Guess that defines me as a bad person. In homeroom someone told me it looks like I’m ready to commit murder and face a life sentence with no remorse. Nice way to make me feel welcome guys! This new school is filled with judgmental assholes who won’t lift a finger to get to know me in the slightest way possible. A few saw the real in me though, of course the stoners. It’s not even like I want to be associated with that group, it’s just my people. I usually attract broken people. It’s in my blood I guess. Other than school, I started to create better habits and routines in my personal life. I learned to just ignore Dad and realize he was never going to change. I started hitting the gym a few times a week and exploring the outdoors more. Even though in those moments I felt like I had a healthier mind, when I wasn’t distracted I still felt this feeling of loneliness eating at the bottom of my soul. Not just loneliness, but no improvement. Just constant downfall. I setup my studio at the new place but I’m never able to reach deep down with music. All of it just seems worthless now.
Now this next and final segment is going to seem very cliche in the fact that it sounds like a movie script and may seem dramatic, but to me its what made me open my eyes and is the reason i’m writing this right now. Just bare with me here as I give some context.
Romantic relationships for me have never worked out. Love is a hard thing for me to understand as I haven’t received it most of my life in general. Nobody truly understands me in the way I do. Not family, not friends, not the few girlfriends I’ve had. I’ve been cheated on, mistreated, mentally abused, ignored, the list goes on. I can count out at least 5 separate females that have tore me apart and took the pieces of me with them. My generation is heartless, so I’ve tried to adapt to become like them. My only problem is with the lack of love I have for myself, I try to give everything to the other person. They always end up talking to another guy or telling me how I meant nothing to them when I gave them every ounce of love left in my heart. When I moved here I started talking to a girl who was quirky, but seemed to appreciate me for me. After a month and a half of investment I come to learn she slept with another boy who was “just a friend” . Her remorse, 0. My care level, lower than usual. I’m used to it at this point. I didn’t care about that but the fact that I could never mean something to anybody eats at me deeper every-time. That is until I started talking to Jorgette.
Jorgette. My female counterpart. The person I have been searching for all my life. The person who I finally feel will be able to provide me with the support I’ve been needing. The first time me and her hung out I knew something was different. When she held my hand I swear on everything that finally for once in my life, the voices were gone. That feeling of nothingness was finally revitalized, she gave me hope. Even though she has some very bad mental problems herself I want to help her and give her the world she deserves. She listens to me and tells me her dreams. She tells me she doesn’t think she can get there though, her mind has her locked inside of a mental prison. So does mine, Jorgette. I tell you important and traumatic things, just not the deepest darkest secrets about me. A little bit of time passes, although she doesn’t bring up a romantic relationship with me. She holds me and comforts me in ways a partner would. When I’m back at home the voices are back and the overthinking is more prominent than ever. F*ck, I need to tell her how I feel.
She had just previously gotten out of a relationship and was very damaged at the moment I met her. She stared at me with eyes of awe though every time I would see her or be on facetime with her. After nights of pacing back and forth in my room I rack up the courage to text her, “i would rather say this in person, but i just wanted to say i really like you jorgette. i been thinking abt u lots recently. i just wanted to make sure u felt the same way b4 i got hurt, but i really like being your best friend right now and spending time with you.. i don’t want to rush into things like i always do. i also understand u are recovering from your past relationship and you need ur space. i just thought i would let you know because i thought u should know how i feel about you before u keep hanging out with me, but for right now i just want to keep being each others person to lean on before hand if we did end up having some sort of future…“ Why the F*ck would I ruin what we had for my own self coddling reasons. Even if we weren’t dating she still gave me love. F*ck, F*ck, F*ck. She texts back a couple hours later saying she isn’t ready for a relationship with me in any means but she still appreciates me the same and is here for me. Something snapped in my brain at this moment. The person I’ve wanted all my life I couldn’t have.
Around the time I met Jorgette I started reading “Unscripted ” by MJ DeMarco (the owner of this page). At first I was skeptical, but became intrigued in the fact that the whole life I was living was a lie. The last time I actually picked up a book and read it was probably 6th grade. For some reason as I got more invested into this book I started to understand why I was feeling the way I was always feeling. It was almost a form of therapy as I would flip the pages. I learned about the authors hardships and how he too also wanted to end his life at his lowest point. In the coming days of me texting Jorgette how I felt about her, she became more distant, but would still text me thoughtful messages about how she cared about me. I would see her hanging out with other people on social media. When my brain snapped , it wasn’t because I was saddened in the thought I couldn’t have her it was the fact I let my own past get in the way. I wanted something she wasn’t ready for and I knew that. The irony of reading “Unscripted ” is that as this happened in my life it co-aligned with the fact I needed to change as a person. I had just started reading the part about FTE’s or the “F*ck This Event,” The turning point in a persons life where they realize they need to make change. An undoubted decision that is programmed into your brain. My phone and computer are now strictly used as creative, business and learning tools. I wave my scripted lifestyle goodbye as I dive into a new world of self improvement and entrepreneurship. It wasn’t Jorgette I needed all this time, it was me. I had to finally account for my actions and put myself through even more hardships to make a better version of myself. I’ve just started the portion of the book about entrepreneurship and I’ve decided this is what I’m going to chase. This is what I’m going to fulfill. This is going to fill the empty space. Not the destination, but the journey. As I still battle with mental struggles it feels good to have something other than a person that is giving me hope. Social media, unruly customaries , and people’s opinions no longer play a role in my life. Most importantly, my past. I don’t need all the things I’ve ever wanted, but shit once I’m past the journey, it will feel good as hell to have the ability to get them. I’m okay now, I promised myself this. And as far as Jorgette, she’s always welcome in my private jet when the time comes, or maybe I’ll be flying solo..
my message to readers of this story:
I appreciate everyone who reads this whole thing through and gives me feedback. I hope to give inspiration and make the people who feel alone, not so alone
this is a long, but important and true story. I put my heart into this one. please, get your popcorn.
- Tee, a 17 year old with regained hope
————————————————————————
Ever since I can remember I stood apart from my peers in a social standpoint. Fitting in and wanting to be liked has been a struggle since the beginning of grade school. I accumulated a few good friends over the years, but was always ridiculed and ignored by the rest. Even my friends all have their knives they have put into my back at some point or another . I come from a broken home of neglect and rarely-existent love. I also come from a town in New Jersey filled with drug addicts and the occasional violence. I’m not going to tell you all my life story but I will recap the past year and how it has led me all up to this point. Suppressing my depression with nicotine, alcohol, social media, porn, and weed has been a prominent factor in my life especially over the last year. I was living with my mom in our two bedroom apartment last year where my only escape from her drug abusing boyfriend and constant arguments was my little home studio where I would write music about my struggles. Although, my emotions would never come out unless I was feeling them at that moment. My other escape was the routine parties almost every weekend with my best friend and his brother just to spend hundreds on alcohol and weed. I had a job at a shitty pizza place, but would occasionally sell weed to kids from my high school for some extra pocket cash.
I couldn’t even stand to be home and over this past summer I was living at my friends which was a free range household where there was blunts being passed around all hours of the day and constant mindless bickering from the people who stayed there. I got a knife pulled on me there when my exes boyfriend decided to show up over some petty bullshit. Overall , I was not in a good place physically or mentally. I would sometimes stop in to check in on my mom, but didn’t like to be there because of the situation she put me in. Her boyfriend who is a heroin addict and whom she has a baby with would break plates, tv’s, and my moms heart every single day. Yet, she chose that life and I do not feel sorry for her in the slightest. On a rainy day in June while i was at the weed house I got a call from my mother saying we were being kicked out our apartment and that there was no other place she could afford. She said we were going to move in with my grandparents who live 30 minutes out and we were going to figure out what to do from there. F*ck… not only do I now have to live with my mom and her boyfriend with no choice, I no longer will have my friends who provided me with the only company that kept me sane. Over the next few weeks I packed away my stuff and my tears of rage into a cardboard box.
We moved into my grandparents in July just a few days before my birthday. Even though my friends were only 30 minutes away, I still felt alone and afraid of what was to come. My grandparents made it very clear to my moms boyfriend that if he was going to stay there, there was going to be a very strict no-drug policy in place. He told them the same “i’m done with all that” story and same reassuring bullshit he would always tell my mom before she would send him to rehab. Of course they believed that.
On July 17th , the day of my birthday, we were sitting around the dinner table eating the home cooked ribs my grandfather made on the grill when all the sudden a door slammed. My moms boyfriend had come home from “the gym” aka his excuse to go pickup heroin. I didn’t even care enough to tell any of them the lies i could see coming straight from his mouth. He came in the door high as a kite and my grandparents could tell immediately he wasn’t sober. Yelling ensued for the next 2 hours as he was being packed away to rehab. I sat on my bed which was a couch and thought about how ending my life would be better then all this pain I was feeling. Happy birthday to me right. I did have a choice of somewhere else to stay, but just the thought of it made my stomach turn. My fathers.
Me and my father have a very bad past. He was never a father in my eyes. I used to live with him part time when he was staying with my grandmother. When I had officially moved in with my mom years ago, the burden was lifted off his chest and he moved in with his girlfriend and started living a better life. I thought about it more and more as the days passed and my mental health got worse. I came to a decision that even though my father was never a father to me in the past , moving in with him and his girlfriend would be better than my current situation. I called him to tell him what was going on and he told me I was welcome to stay in the guest room. Other than dealing with his perfectionist bullshit he would project onto me even though he couldn’t live in his own words, I would also have to leave all my friends for good and rarely ever be able to see them. The risk for a healthier household seemed smart though. When I told my mom she cried for days and would say, “but i can try to get us a place!” or “it won’t be that bad here, you can just finish out your senior year here at grandmas and figure out your life after.” Yeah and be trapped with Heroin Harry when he makes his return from rehab and convinces my mom to beg my grandparents to let him back in ? No thanks. It’s hard seeing the mother I once knew, keep letting this parasite into our family. Not only was he disrespecting us, he was destroying the whole family’s relationship. My little brother who is currently 9 months old is going to be one f*cked up kid if this continues. I don’t want him to have to experience what I’ve dealt with for the past 17 years. If I could go back to 8 year old me and give him a hug.. maybe I wouldn’t be so cold as I am today.
Anyways, back to moving in with dad. My father lives with his girlfriend about an hour from my grandparents house in a small little run down town in Pennsylvania called Catasaqua. A weird town with only 600 kids that go to the school. They live in a nicer part of the town though in a 3 bedroom townhouse with a finished basement. This was definitely a step up from my past situation as I had not lived like this in a long time nor was i any longer paying for my own basic needs. Since my dad doesn’t have a large rent to pay to his girlfriend since she owns the house, he has money to afford a lot more things. A lot of which he spends on bullshit like his three spoiled, miniature, ankle biting canines. Or his surround sound 60 inch tv equipped with the latest Xbox series X. Even though Dad has some money now he is still the same criticizing son of a bitch he’s always been. No disrespect, even though you try to put me down in every way possible, I still love you dad. The “your never going to amount to anything” look greets my eyes every time I cross paths with him. “Hard work pays off. Go above and beyond for bosses and you’ll see how respected you become. “ Why not go above and beyond for myself Dad ? Why kiss my bosses a$$ when I’m literally doing things he tells me to do ? If anything he should be kissing mine. He depends on me to get his dirty work done. “Everything is always a F*cking argument with you. You always have an excuse for everything.” Yeah just like how you always used to have an excuse when I would ask you to hang out.
When I moved in it was late august, a week before school started. I was approaching life from a different point of view now and attempting to turn around my life. I was going to have to meet new people and somehow form relationships with them so I can live out my dream senior year accordingly. Welp, let’s just say that didn’t happen. I have that “dirty white boy look” as they call it. I have a few face piercings and bloodshot eyes in the morning from my insomnia. Guess that defines me as a bad person. In homeroom someone told me it looks like I’m ready to commit murder and face a life sentence with no remorse. Nice way to make me feel welcome guys! This new school is filled with judgmental assholes who won’t lift a finger to get to know me in the slightest way possible. A few saw the real in me though, of course the stoners. It’s not even like I want to be associated with that group, it’s just my people. I usually attract broken people. It’s in my blood I guess. Other than school, I started to create better habits and routines in my personal life. I learned to just ignore Dad and realize he was never going to change. I started hitting the gym a few times a week and exploring the outdoors more. Even though in those moments I felt like I had a healthier mind, when I wasn’t distracted I still felt this feeling of loneliness eating at the bottom of my soul. Not just loneliness, but no improvement. Just constant downfall. I setup my studio at the new place but I’m never able to reach deep down with music. All of it just seems worthless now.
Now this next and final segment is going to seem very cliche in the fact that it sounds like a movie script and may seem dramatic, but to me its what made me open my eyes and is the reason i’m writing this right now. Just bare with me here as I give some context.
Romantic relationships for me have never worked out. Love is a hard thing for me to understand as I haven’t received it most of my life in general. Nobody truly understands me in the way I do. Not family, not friends, not the few girlfriends I’ve had. I’ve been cheated on, mistreated, mentally abused, ignored, the list goes on. I can count out at least 5 separate females that have tore me apart and took the pieces of me with them. My generation is heartless, so I’ve tried to adapt to become like them. My only problem is with the lack of love I have for myself, I try to give everything to the other person. They always end up talking to another guy or telling me how I meant nothing to them when I gave them every ounce of love left in my heart. When I moved here I started talking to a girl who was quirky, but seemed to appreciate me for me. After a month and a half of investment I come to learn she slept with another boy who was “just a friend” . Her remorse, 0. My care level, lower than usual. I’m used to it at this point. I didn’t care about that but the fact that I could never mean something to anybody eats at me deeper every-time. That is until I started talking to Jorgette.
Jorgette. My female counterpart. The person I have been searching for all my life. The person who I finally feel will be able to provide me with the support I’ve been needing. The first time me and her hung out I knew something was different. When she held my hand I swear on everything that finally for once in my life, the voices were gone. That feeling of nothingness was finally revitalized, she gave me hope. Even though she has some very bad mental problems herself I want to help her and give her the world she deserves. She listens to me and tells me her dreams. She tells me she doesn’t think she can get there though, her mind has her locked inside of a mental prison. So does mine, Jorgette. I tell you important and traumatic things, just not the deepest darkest secrets about me. A little bit of time passes, although she doesn’t bring up a romantic relationship with me. She holds me and comforts me in ways a partner would. When I’m back at home the voices are back and the overthinking is more prominent than ever. F*ck, I need to tell her how I feel.
She had just previously gotten out of a relationship and was very damaged at the moment I met her. She stared at me with eyes of awe though every time I would see her or be on facetime with her. After nights of pacing back and forth in my room I rack up the courage to text her, “i would rather say this in person, but i just wanted to say i really like you jorgette. i been thinking abt u lots recently. i just wanted to make sure u felt the same way b4 i got hurt, but i really like being your best friend right now and spending time with you.. i don’t want to rush into things like i always do. i also understand u are recovering from your past relationship and you need ur space. i just thought i would let you know because i thought u should know how i feel about you before u keep hanging out with me, but for right now i just want to keep being each others person to lean on before hand if we did end up having some sort of future…“ Why the F*ck would I ruin what we had for my own self coddling reasons. Even if we weren’t dating she still gave me love. F*ck, F*ck, F*ck. She texts back a couple hours later saying she isn’t ready for a relationship with me in any means but she still appreciates me the same and is here for me. Something snapped in my brain at this moment. The person I’ve wanted all my life I couldn’t have.
Around the time I met Jorgette I started reading “Unscripted ” by MJ DeMarco (the owner of this page). At first I was skeptical, but became intrigued in the fact that the whole life I was living was a lie. The last time I actually picked up a book and read it was probably 6th grade. For some reason as I got more invested into this book I started to understand why I was feeling the way I was always feeling. It was almost a form of therapy as I would flip the pages. I learned about the authors hardships and how he too also wanted to end his life at his lowest point. In the coming days of me texting Jorgette how I felt about her, she became more distant, but would still text me thoughtful messages about how she cared about me. I would see her hanging out with other people on social media. When my brain snapped , it wasn’t because I was saddened in the thought I couldn’t have her it was the fact I let my own past get in the way. I wanted something she wasn’t ready for and I knew that. The irony of reading “Unscripted ” is that as this happened in my life it co-aligned with the fact I needed to change as a person. I had just started reading the part about FTE’s or the “F*ck This Event,” The turning point in a persons life where they realize they need to make change. An undoubted decision that is programmed into your brain. My phone and computer are now strictly used as creative, business and learning tools. I wave my scripted lifestyle goodbye as I dive into a new world of self improvement and entrepreneurship. It wasn’t Jorgette I needed all this time, it was me. I had to finally account for my actions and put myself through even more hardships to make a better version of myself. I’ve just started the portion of the book about entrepreneurship and I’ve decided this is what I’m going to chase. This is what I’m going to fulfill. This is going to fill the empty space. Not the destination, but the journey. As I still battle with mental struggles it feels good to have something other than a person that is giving me hope. Social media, unruly customaries , and people’s opinions no longer play a role in my life. Most importantly, my past. I don’t need all the things I’ve ever wanted, but shit once I’m past the journey, it will feel good as hell to have the ability to get them. I’m okay now, I promised myself this. And as far as Jorgette, she’s always welcome in my private jet when the time comes, or maybe I’ll be flying solo..
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