my life and death

This the life story and potential will of Trevor J. Lott, born February 22 1991, SSN - XXXXXXXXX

Let me preface by saying that the only reasons I am still alive are because of my loving family. I don't think it would matter much to others.

I have always tried to be a good person. I have made many mistakes throughout my life, but I honestly hope I didn't hurt anyone too badly. I don't think I did.

I was raised by a great family, and I had a wonderful childhood.

Something in me changed though, when I moved in to Madison, MS and started going to school here. At first, I thought it was just the normal feelings of being in a new place, around new kids, and the adjustment that comes with that. But it grew worse. And worse. I started noticing that the life I had pictured for me wasn't going to turn out so great after all. I watched as all my friends easily got girlfriends, or talked to girls, or vice versa, and here I am, alone. I was always alone. My only escapes were video games and the friends I had met on there, and drugs.

I turned to drugs when I was 15. A friend let me try marijuana, and for the first time since I had moved to Madison I felt like a normal kid again. I felt all the depression and sadness lift. Everything was 'novel', in a sense. This drug experimentation continued throughout high school, which further increased as I was further ostracized by the kids there. I never had a prom date. Shit, I never had a girlfriend. I had few friends to begin with, anyways. It's like I was nothing to them. And it hurt. It burned inside, every day. Why? Why did I deserve this treatment? I always wanted to be people's friend. I wanted to have the typical teenage experience in America - first love, first falling out, prom, etc. Nope. It wasn't meant for me, apparently. And no one cared, but me.

I stated to blame God (whom I still do, if you are reading this). I saw bullies and assholes living the life I wanted to live while I suffered from internal torment. Females comepletely ignored me, for the most part. And I blamed it on God. Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this kind of half-baked life? Even the males treated me with contempt, although all I wanted was to be part of the group. I can literally count on one hand the amount of friends I had in high school. As of this writing, I think maybe one would even bother to acknowledge my existence.

I fell further into drug use, just to escape from my torment. No one understood. I didn't even understand. And college comes around, and I think I might have a chance at a fresh start.

No. I go to Holmes Community College, surrounded by other Madison Central/RHS rejects that didn't treat me any differently. Drug use increases, although I did lost my virginity at a drinking party. What a great way for that to happen, eh? Plus the girl made ME feel bad about it. Just my luck.

Then, the fateful night happened. Madison County Police come to my parents house at 4:00 AM with a warrant for my arrest - Sale of Less than an Oz. of Marijuana. Turns out, a friend I gave a ride to Wendy's to had sold 1g (a GRAM) of marijuana to a 'confiditenial informant', Cameron Hedgepeth. Suddenly, my already shitty life is about to get even worse. We hired who we thought was a good attorney, and I kept attending school while the court date loomed over my head like a doomsday clock.

The court date finally comes, and what does Madison County and Michael Guest, in their quest for 'justice' and 'rightousness', do to me? Send me to prison. They send a 19 year old kid with no previous record to prison, for accompanying the sale of a GRAM of MARIJUANA. Prison.

I spent 8 months in there the first time. The last vestiges of my childhood, of my innocence, were stripped away. My hope, gone. Prospects for future, gone. All because Michael Guest wanted a conviction. To a monster like him, a conviction was worth ruining the life of a 19 year old college student who was charged with selling a gram of pot.

When I got out, I wanted to have a happy mindset. I wanted hope. I wanted the ability to start over. But deep down inside, I knew I couldn't. My life was ruined - I had a felony charge and was on felonly probation for 5 years. I could barely hold down a job because of it. Drug use increases, except now it's not pot, it's opioids and downers. Nor just to escape, but to feel either artificial bliss, or nothing at all but pure oblivion. The thing about these kinds of drugs, is that they are also very addictive and I started craving them more and more. My anger increased. I had no one to really talk to these things about. My parents...I could tell them certain things but they just wouldn't understand it all, and that's no fault of theirs. I went through a couple half-assed 'relationships' (if you can even call them that) and basically was used and abused by several females, then heartlessly left to my own defenses. So of course I couldn't talk to them. The only "friends" I had at the time were also addicts. And from past experiences, therapy either never worked for me and made things worse, or it backfired. I had no one, but myself. God had abandoned me a long time ago.

All this while, all my friends from childhood are earning degrees, have girlfriends/fiances/spouses. I am sitting in an ugly rotting shell of a human being, meanwhile.

So one night, I ran out of alcohol. Now at this point in my life, running out of alcohol was bad because I was addicted to it. I needed alcohol. So, in a drug/alcohol induced stupor and haze, I went stumbling around my neighborhood looking for truck beds with open coolers to check for beer. I was that out of it. The very first one I walk up to, a cop comes out of nowhere and attacks me. Deus Ex Machina. Divine Intervention, if there ever was one.

Now, I get put into jail again. Except this time, I was already on probation because of the gram of weed charge. I have no lawyer. My family cannot afford one and they are the only ones who even care enough to send me enough money just to get food. My court date rolls around, and in the motion of discovery they say that the only items that were missing was "an undetermined amount of change".

I was sentenced to 10 years to serve in the MDOC, parole on good behavior. I was 22 with a mental illness/drug problem.

During the 2 3/4 years I was in prison, any sort of hope or innocence I have ever had was completely obliterated. Destroyed. Raped. I saw the most horrific things I've ever seen in my life in there. I saw people murdered. Stabbed. Beat until an eye pops out. I was beat. Extorted. Amongst other things. I would hear the screams at night...people screaming for their mother, for God (he wasn't coming), for anyone. I still hear those screams. I still remember what they did to me in there... And no one gives a shit aside from my family or understands. I was in a literal living hell for almost 3 years.

A gram of marijuana, and an undetermined amount of change. Thank you, Michael Guest and Madison County. I really hope it was worth it to you. But it gets better.

When I finally made parole, I was put on a house arrest bracelet for a year. It was nigh impossible for me to get a job so I was stuck at home. with little to no contact with anyone. And any vestiges I had of living a better life were gone. I contemplated suicide almost every single day. Every. Single. Day. But I pushed through, and finally got off house arrest. When I went in to report to my P.O (Dwayne Montgomery), he said "I'm through fucking with your bitch ass, I don't give a shit. Report to (can't remember his name)." Well, next month I did. The guy I was supposed to report to was not there. Only a sign in sheet with his..."clients" I guess? I don't know what they call them. Anyways, I signed off, sent my payment in, and awaited a call for further instructions.

A month later, no call. Nothing. Several months roll by. I send in payments. No call. So, I try to rebuild my life during this time.

I start working at a server at Outback to provide for myself. Big surprise - I'm for the most part ostracized there, mainly by the females, because I've realized that I must be an ugly person physically or something because it never made sense before. I end up losing my job there because of some secret shopper who complained that I didn't refill their sweet tea fast enough, and I had 4 other tables to serve. Icing on the cake...the house I am living at suddenly starts having things stolen from it. Now, the people I was living with at the time were Evan Goodson (whom I thought was my best friend), Chris Tracy (whom I thought was a close friend), and Tyley Bishop and his girlfriend Katie Byars (same with them).

Well, the first person blamed, of course, is me. At the time I was not on any drugs, aside from the occasional marijuana usage. So I really didn't know how to take it. Then, Chris Tracy apparently goes to our landlady himself (Tyler's mother) and tells her that I have been stealing things and to kick me out the house. With no proof. So the next day I leave. I pack my things, and I stay at my Uncle's in Sumrall for a few weeks to get away from all of this.

Now the MAJOR incident that happened to me while this was going on was that I had just gotten into a relationship with Lindsey Tullos. Like me, she had had prior drug issues but seemed to be doing better. She also had an adorable 7 month old child at the time that I immediately took to. See, being a good father figure like my father was to me was all I've ever really wanted in life, as my endgame. A loving parter, and eventually a family. That's it.

Lindsey ends up cheating on me/doing some suspicious stuff with some guy named Casey Hall WHILE all of this is occuring to me.

I return to Jackson and Evan Goodson had just moved in with another coworker of ours from Outback, Glenn Williams. Now, if I have ever met an all around good guy, it's Glenn. We did not get along at first, mainly due to me and my extremely volatile emotions fueled by alcohol, but eventually he because one of my best friends.

Lindsey is flip flopping all over the place. One night, she asks me if I would be the father figure to Evie (Lindsey's daughter) since her dad ran out on her. I swear...I was almost brought to tears by that request. I said yes immediately.

A week later, she cheats on me with some guy named "Brad" who was 39 and did heroin. They get pulled over, and the cop calls ME, telling me that if I don't come pick Lindsey up that not only is she going to jail too, but she will love Evie. I head over there. When we get back to Lindsey's apartment, she basically tells me to "get the fuck out and never come back again."

Stories like this continue off and on for several months over the summer of 2017. I try my best to do things for Lindsey and Evie. When she's not being sweet to me, she's talking to a dozen other dudes on Tinder and other dating apps.

She ends up getting sent away to rehab for a year. She lasted 4 months before she begged me to come get her. My car couldn't handle it at the time but she finds a ride back regardless. She seems ok. I'm ready to renew our relationship.

She acts...off. Like, cold, heartless. One minute she would be telling me how much she loved me, the next minute, she is trying to send me home drunk at 12 AM so one of her ex's can come over. Things like this keep occuring until finally, it boils over and we don't talk for two weeks. Apparenltly during those two weeks she gets send BACK to rehab, and ends up running off with a guy named Allen Gregory. He gets important in a second.

All while this has been happening (4-6 months), Evan and our roommate Ben Rankin are letting these meth head people just stay at our house. Stuff is being CONSTANTLY stolen, especially from Evan, but all he does is coddle them, and then go and make jokes about how much better his life is compared to mine. Eventually, these people leave (and we only had two months left of the lease, anyways.)

Keep in mind, during this whole time, the only person who I could ever really talk to ANYTHING about that cared were Glenn Williams and Curt Patrick. For some reason, like I said earlier, something about me disgusts and incites content in females towards me. Females are very 'visual' creatures so if I am ugly then welp, I've already lost. I've always wanted a good female friend. I never had one. i could barely get girlfriends, and that I think was just because I had money/drugs. Female friends? Pfft. Never had the luxury like all of my other friends.

Well, Evan ends up moving into a very nice home in a very nice suburb in Brandon. For the first time in a long time, I had a flicker of hope. Mayve things would get better.

I quickly realized that thigns were going to get worse. Our new roommate, Cody Dendy, was an extremely standoffish person to me (which I already get plenty of) and Evan had turned from my best friend who would sit out on the porch all night talking about how weak I was, or some other defect whether it character or physical, and laugh all night. Just talking shit. Any sense of self esteem I ever had hit zero because of that.

One night he is doing that, and I decided to tell them to go fuck themselves and left the porch to go into my room. Ben Rankin (yeah, he was staying there rent free) starting basically choking me into my room while Cody is following all bowed up and stuff. As they are in my doorframe I hit the closest person I can as hard as I can because I'm so disoriented. It happened to be Ben, and all his body weight falls on my left leg and breaks it.

They all start laughing at me, leaving me on the floor in excruciating agony, and go back on the porch to proceed to talk even more shit.

They left me on my floor for 8 hours, with a broken leg with no way to get up. I couldn't even reach my phone.

After about 20 minutes worth of slowly, slowly crossing the floor over to my phone I could finally reach it. I call my parents and they send me straight to the ER. Double fracture. I text Evan what happened and he informs me that he's kicking me out. As if I instigated it. He does it just so Ben can move in and take my place because to them, I just 'wasn't cool'. I watch movies, play video games, etc. I dont just sit around smoking weed listening to Lil Peep all day.

Ever since then, I've been at the lowest point in my life. I have a new computer, sure. I'm back with my parents. I'm studying for IT certifications....but for what? No one cares. Why should I? I feel like I will never have a girlfriend, fiancee, or wife. I will never have kids. I will never have a family. Shit, I barely have any friends who are female and even then I doubt they care about me.

So this is my life story. And probably my suicide note, at some point. NOT NOW, it will be edited for date, if/when I ever decide to do it... But this is what it will look like. This is what happens to someone like me, someone who's very soul is tortured and there IS no fixing of it. Every woman I dated cheated on me or played games. I can't seem to keep friends even though I'm one of the most loyal people you'd ever meet. All I have are my family and a couple friends.

I am a broken, tortured individual and I have almost nothing.

I wanted what most other people get by accident....a family, at some point of course. Shit, I just like companionship. I can't get that. So that is why I wish to destroy myself. I would do anything (aside from killing) to trade places with ANY of my friends' lives...ESPECIALLY a female. I'm sorry but that just seems like life on easy mode. Companionship and people who can genuinely be there for you is easy as a female. Someone like me...it'll never happen.

I can't take much more of this. I don't know what the next 'trigger' will be that will finally push me over that edge...but I know that it's coming. My blood will be on so many others' hands. I never wanted any of this...all I wanted were a group of friends and to be treated like everyone else. But I guess I've been denied that.

Oh well. When I'm gone there will be one less ugly mofo to deal with. No more video games. No more football. No more politics. No more drugs. No more drinks. No more sunsets. No more fishing. No more walks in woods. No more loving embraces. No more hate. No more anger.

Given it a lot of thought. But there's still more thinking to do.