- Hey,
- my name is Philipp, I am 24 and I’m from germany.
- I grew up having a great childhood, amazing parents and a beautiful home. I took piano lessons and played soccer (football). I also was in a musician school We traveled every year around the world, I loved my family and they loved me.
- When I was 10 my mother started to go to the doctor and the hospital quiet often, everyone told me she was fine, just a bit sick sometimes.
- When I was 11 she shaved her her and got bold, they told me she wanted to try a new look or something like that.
- When I was 12 I visited her in the hospital, where she already went pretty often, I made her a card in school where I wrote: “get better soon, I love you to the moon and back”. I remember how she said that she will get better and will be home soon. That was the last time I trusted someone’s promises.
- She got home a few days later..but she wasn’t good at all. She came home from the hospital with the hospital bed in which she stayed almost every day, all day long. At the first she stood up sometimes and acted pretty normal but after a couple of weeks she couldn’t stand up anymore and just stayed in this God damn bed in our living room.
- But still everybody told me she would get better soon. One day I came home from school where I wrote a poem for her, so I stood in front of her bed with my das and read it out loud to her. At that point she couldn’t even move anymore but my dad told me that she heard it.
I don’t know how much time went by after this but at one day, when I came home from school again, my whole family was at our house. Everyone, my aunts, my uncles, my brother and my sisters (who are 20 years older than me, so they already lived on their own).
At first I was pretty exited because i just saw them once a year, on Christmas. But when got into our kitchen and my aunt told me “come here” with tears in her eyes, I knew something wasn’t right.
On that day, my mother passed away because of breast cancer. I wish someone would’ve told me that she will not be good again, I wish someone would’ve told me anything. Maybe I would’ve worshipped the time I had left with her a bit more. But this way i was in complete shock.
After this my father had to sell the house and we moved into a small apartment. He pretty much stopped caring about me and I stopped taking piano lessons and stopped playing football. I also dropped out of the musician school and went on a regular school. So our life goes on, I got new friends and was slowly getting better because of the loss of my mother.
A couple years later, when I was 14 or 15 my father decided that he want to move to Thailand, to live there, and I had to decide for myself if I want to go with him.
It took me about a half year to get the strength to tell him that I don’t want to move to Thailand, because all of my family and my friends were here, obviously. Although he still wanted to move to Thailand and wanted me to stay with my sister and her boyfriend, who just got theirs first baby. She agreed.
Then I started to get bad at school again, sometimes I didn’t even showed up for school, but my dad didn’t cared.
They wanted me to move to her about half a year before my dad was leaving so my sister and me had some time to get used to living with each other. Like I said, we roughly saw us a couple of times a year.
It didn’t worked out at all but I had to stay there anyways and my father called me one day when I was at school and told me that his train will come soon, which will take him to the airport. He asked me if I wanted to meet him at the train station again to say goodbye, but I declined.
I regret this decision to this day.
Time moved on, I dropped out of school and fighted with my sister every day. It was really bad. It got that bad, that at some point on Christmas, when I was 16, I decided to move out and visit my dad for half a year in Thailand, although I still hated him for leaving me alone.
My sister was very mad at me but as my brother told me later, she wanted to kick me out anyways.
In Thailand it didn’t got better, as one could have expected I fought with my dad a lot. He still didn’t cared about me and most days ive just sat in some i ternet-cafè, ayung world of tanks. But there were good times too, dont get me wrong.
At one day, my father was taking his daily nap, when I notices weird sounds out of his room, so I walked into his room to check on him.
When I opened the door, he layed on his bed, his face was blue and he had vomit all over his pillow. I immediately jumped on his bed and grabbed his mouth to pull out his tongue, because I thought he was choking on it. Right decision.
Then ran out to get help, because he was unconscious, but the next house was like 500m away, maybe more. So I just started running. When I got there I screamed at them to get an ambulance (the neighbor was german too) buy they told me they can’t, because there isn’t such thing as one universal number for an ambulance, you need to know someone who knows someone who drives an ambulance. So I wanted to run back to my dad’s home but I realized that I couldn’t. I couldn’t walk one step because every time I moved my feet it felt like they were exploding, I looked down and saw that the skin on my foot melted because of the heat of the asphalt from the street. I didn’t noticed it first because of the adrenaline in my body but now I just couldn’t walk. So I got on my hands and knees and started crawling back, but it got too hot and I started crawling on my belly. When I got back, some thais (natives from thailand) were moving by who knew my dad as well and they called an ambulance.
I didn’t visited my dad once in the two weeks he was in the hospital because I feared that it will go the same as with my mum.
Later they told me he had a heavy stroke.
When my dad came back from the hospital, he reached out his hand to shake mine to say hello. It was fucking weird, because there was no love or anything behind this gesture. He also never believed me, that I literally saved his like, nor he ever thanked me.
When I got back to Germany, my sister didn’t wanted me to live with her anymore so I had to live in the streets for one and a half year u til I found a purse in a train and bought me a smartphone to write my brother, who told me to get on the train and move to him to Austria to get back on my feet. I think I was 18 years old at that point, but I’m not 100% sure.
Everything went good and we found myself a apartment in a city in Bavaria where I knew no one and had to live on my own for the first time. (Exept when I lived in the streets)
But someday I met some people, who seemed pretty damn cool and we became “friends”, bad decision.
Turned out they were drug and alcohol addicted but I didn’t even cared anymore, I was happy to finally have some people in my life who seemed to care about me, so I hang out with them every day and do nothing else. So I lost my apartment and moved to one of them (the leader of the group). We drank a lot, got in a lot of trouble, had a lot of brawls, stole a lot of stuff. Everyday we lost more and more inhibitions.
Then it all got worse when we made it kind of “official” by naming our gang.
We stole from gas stations, broke into stores and apartments at night and even robbed people. Until we finally got caught while we broke into a restaurant.
Police were everywhere, guns were pointed, people were running (including me). But we all got caught in this night.
I regretted everything so fucking bad, I even told the police that we’ve robbed someone, although they didn’t even knew about it.
It was my first time I had to go to the court and even the policewomen, from my interrogation, told the judge that I am regretting my actions and that I helped them a lot with my statements.
Anyways the judge gave me two and a half year in prison.
I was so mad at him because it was my first time ever showing up to the court. But looking back, it was the best thing that happened to me all my life.
So I spent a lot of time in jail and a lot of bad things happened there but the most important thing is, that I’ve learned a lot. For example, i made 2 school graduations in there.
When I got out I moved to my brother again. But my best friend (not one of the friends from before) persuaded me to move to the same City again.
A lot of stuff happened then, I started building a life, lost it all again, did a lot of drugs, got my face tattooed and so on. But it would take forever to write it all down and my fingers starting to hurt, because I’m writing on my smartphone. 😆
So fast forward:
I left it all behind, I met a girl near to the town where all that shit happened, I took her and moved all the way to the other end of germany where I was born.
We are living with my 2nd sister, we are doing quiet good. We have a lot of debts, because of my fucked up life and my sister has a lot of depts too.
We are pregnant, 5th month and we want to build a life.
I am not asking someone to pay for my debts, nor my sisters. I’m just asking for a bit of financial help so we can afford a warm meal per day and maybe even a bed for our future baby boy.
At this time I have 2 Jobs, just as my sister, we are cleaning houses and stores.
I would love to get a better paid job but it’s hard to find someone who would hire you when you were in jail.
Kind regards,
J.-Philipp S.
The PayPal.me link is my Girlfriends PayPal because PayPal blocked my account due to too much debts.
Link: https://paypal.me/MayaRebmann2002?country.x=DE&locale.x=de_DE
*the pictures added are:
1.: Mom, Dad, dog, Sister, Brother and Me
**seems like I can’t add more