My Dear Cousin - My Body Shut Down

6^th May 2021

My dear cousin,

As we have established, by the age of fourteen I had lost my mother, was living in a slum suffering abuse on the regular, and my old man was only a part of my life on weekends. It should be no mystery as to why I had trouble in high school. I had problems and when problems go ignored they just get bigger and bigger until they force you to do something about them.

My body shut down, and I was having trouble with my grades. I remember vomiting every morning and asking the old man to take me to a doctor, but he refused. I couldn’t concentrate on most of what I was reading and had trouble holding my hands up to type.

I once mentioned to the old man that I had setup my keyboard in such a way as to make it more ergonomically sound, but my hands hurt when I typed. He sat me down and said “I’m tired, my back is hurting, I’m worried about a fight I had with my wife…” and so on. I asked him what his point was and he said I complained too much.

He labeled me a hypochondriac and the whole family called me a hypochondriac for more than ten years after that. Hypochondria being a real medical condition were a person feels bad and believes themselves to be ill were no cause can be found I asked to be treated for my problem.  You treat hypochondria like you do depression, they could be just the same thing, so I asked to see a psychiatrist. The old man said “it’s all in your head” and refused to take me.

I did participate in sports in high school. I fared as well as anyone who is dangerously depressed, but the teams I played on were so small they couldn’t practice without me. Years later my old man would mention that I passed my sports physicals as evidence that nothing was wrong with me. I reminded him that the doctor had ordered a blood test, and he had refused to take me. 

I nearly flunked out of school my third year. The old man screamed and screamed, and insisted I was just lazy. That was his Modus Operandi, he would first laugh at my problems, and when they didn’t go away, he would then scream at my problems. Never did he try to resolve them in any meaningful way. 

Two weeks before I graduated high school I got my last check from the government. Survivors benefits from my mother’s death.  That same day I got a job. After that, well, that’s for my next letter.

Best,

 

Richard Leland Neal