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Declaration of Dysfunction: Article 2

December 20, 2011

Okay so I promised I’d get back to this, so here we go…

Westmont Elementary and the move to Oz (So Cal.) I believe were the real catalysts, or perhaps my first steps onto the plank over the sea of dysfunction…oh it is to etc.

And I often wonder what I would have been like had we stayed in Vikington, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss…

And before we get to far into it I want to reiterate my earlier statement that I present these facts, this history for informative purposes only, (again and as always mostly fer my children)’cause it’s gonna kinda get sobby real soon and I don’t want you all feelin’ sad this is suppose to be a funny blog.

I mean, I laugh at it so why can’t you?

Wait who am I…why I’m the Dysfunctional Unit, and cats n kittens trust me I laugh at it all. I really do.

And I laugh at that fat overly sensitive little kid I was.

So awkward and clueless…oh it is to laugh

Slinking away from the hottest cheer leader Sharon Eckles after she slapped me in the face for daring to ask her to dance.

C’mon if it was in a coming of age movie it’d be funny.

The most unpopular kid in school asks the (soon to be) home coming queen to dance

Or stealing money from home to pay off one of the school tuff’s Dave Carney or to hire the big McGinnis kid to protect me from Dave and his friends, only to have him walk away at the worst moment.

Sneaking from class to class.

But, you’d think to yourself, at least there was home, home would be a refuge.

You would be wrong however my , and this is Article 2.

Ya’ see the Unit’s whole family had been thrown in to turmoil by the move, worst of all, the Mom, and (what’s the expression ipso facto?) the mommy’s boy…

Oh quick aside, I was a pussy when I was a boy, a softie, Marshmallow was the pet name my mom called me, that is when she wasn’t utilizing her other favorite Good for Nothing. L & his fabulous o l boys, as you kids say.

The thing is of course that she was right, that kid was to soft too survive, a dreamer, a pansy, a….okay you get the point…and I said I’d be quick

All right where were we…oh yea the house.

For the first few months after moving to Oz, our Mom (who had been the controlling factor in our family up to this point) stayed mostly confined to her room sleeping and crying (don’t feel to bad at this point, it gets much worse when she finally comes out).

It is however the beginning of our family spinning apart.

Imagine if you will the family as a galaxy, with the main parent being the big star, the rest of the family is of course kept in a nice stable orbit by it’s gravitational influence.

When that star goes through massive changes, so do it’s accompanying bodies.

My dad, was distant, often gone out of the country on business.

My big brother “El Revolutio” had already been heading off the road tagging himself onto the tail end of the hippies.

My sister found Jesus. God bless her.

My little brother, (who would also  turn his life over to Jesus, eventually become a Minister and now often does Missionary work abroad) blonde and skinny through some strange genetic quirk, fit in to this new environment. God bless his soul.

(They both have wonderful families and are great human beings)

And though my bro and I were two grades apart and attended Westmont together, his experience was much different than mine.

He not only tried to avoid being forced to back-up his fat and wildly unpopular super nerd of an older brother, but if push came to shove would join in the mockery.

Please believe that I understand and hold no grudges.

It was what it was, and is what it is, as it were (what?). He was only protecting himself.

It was a difficult time for us all, and we never really recovered.

So my mom…yea…I’ve thought a lot about what to put in here because it matters, I mean not anymore emotionally (much [or often]) but to understanding the dysfunction. But first, I guess I just don’t know you bastards well enough to discuss it all, secondly I really have moved past it..so we will acknowledge that our relationship became increasingly…complex.

It’s enough to know that she spent the first few months in their (parents) bedroom and when she came out things got much worse.

So if my life outside of the house was plagued by attackers and ridiculers, my home life was becoming the same.

And in many ways looking back, it’s hard to blame them.

Because of all these pressures at school and at home my behaviors were becoming increasingly odd.*

*some time after writing this post I recieved a big blow (accidentally self inflicted see here)…among the odd after effects was the blossoming awareness of other concussions I had suffered including two major ones during these first years in So Cal and now this additional knowledge makes not only changes to behavior understandable but plausible, and as well, calls into question much of my interpretation of my memories during the 11-14 range.

I spent a lot of time alone and in hind sight I can see how I was, in many ways, well on my way to becoming either an a: serial killer or b: one of those kids who goes to school with a gun and bombs strapped to his chest…yer laughin and it is funny…in hind site.

And added with the fact that I didn’t eventually become one of those aforementioned things.

It wouldn’t be as funny if I were some old dude writin this from prison.

I became a weirdo homeless, arti…oh wait that’s all fer a later post…

Anyway, the first time I ran away I was thirteen, which is I think about a year and a half or so after we got to Oz.

It all gets very fuzzy through these years for me so if I make any time line mistakes it is not through subterfuge but dysfunction so please forgive me.

I was in and out of the house for increasingly long periods over the next couple years like a ship that has come loose from it’s mooring slowly drifting away.

By the time I was 17 I was on the streets for good.

All right so we have a separation from peers in article 1, a separation from of family in article 2, and the foundation is almost set.

All we needs is a burgeoning culture which promotes and glorifies such separation and throws in the massive use of mind altering substance use to boot.

But that’s for article 3

3 Responses to “Declaration of Dysfunction: Article 2”


  1. […] I should have learned but didn’t…you can read more of this concept here, and uh…here…but the deal is, that’s part of what I am talking about when I talk about being […]


  2. Reblogged this on disfuctionalunit and commented:

    The 2nd in a 3 part series from the first couple months of my blog where in a lay out the foundation of my dysfunction. Pt 1 I posted about a week ago n you can find it easy so I won’t link to it. Part 3 I & II haven’t been edited (which apparently most of my earlier blogs need some pretty intense editing lol.
    Anyway cats n kittens enjoy.

  3. Trent Lewin Says:

    Holy crike man, what a story…


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