(NOTE BY BLOG OWNER: Phillip gave me permission to help edit his story. I have cut out some of the ending of Phillip's story for the mere fact it had adult content that I did not feel was appropriate for my audience. Although I do want to give an honest and real look into the lives of those with FASD, some of the details I do not want younger audiences reading. If you would like to hear the whole story of Phillip, please message me and I can send it to you....
This story does have some adult content in it about drug, alcohol use, and violence. Discretion is advised.)
Hello, my name is Phillip Dekrafft. I am 25 years old. I was born in Tosmk over Russia. My brother and I were both adopted. Our birth parents couldn't take care of us.They would leave us at the hospital to get fed. Our new mom and dad found us and brought us back to the states. We had some problems but I'm not sure they knew about FASD at that time. They had trouble with me but it was always with homework. I would have problems. I was too slow. I could not spell or read but all the other kids were reading. I would go get the big books and try hard. At times I would be at home crying because I couldn't read but wanted to be like everyone else. My mom and dad are both teachers so that helped but it was a fight every time homework was trying to get done. For some reason I was good with art. The years would go past and my mom and dad would take us all over the states. We traveled a lot in the summer because for some reason I had a hard time making and keeping friends. It was amazing to see my mom and dad spend hours trying to help me in 5th. 6th grade got bad because I was getting picked on and called a freak. So in my mind I said let me be this freak so I started to cut some for fun. I found out cutting gave me a high. I never thought it was a problem. Others did though as we moved on. 7th grade I got into trouble because my friend Mikey was getting picked on and something snapped in my head. A voice came to me and said don't let those kids pick on your friend so I stabbed 3 kids with a protractor then myself. That day I thought I did a good thing but everybody else looked down at it. I got expelled from school. I got older and I started trying drugs and drinking. I got kicked out of school once again for selling fake dope. I had fun because people thought I was cool. I thought I had friends but I did not. Nobody was there. So I would cut because that was my one drug. I would take all the hate that kids would tell me; calling me fat and slow and retarded. So finally I had enough. At age 15 I was in high school and found more out casts. We started our gang. It was a joke but we were selling drugs at the high school and drinking in class. I was into the punk and goth thing. I looked crazy. I was trying to push people away but then it came down hard. I was blamed for wanting to shoot up the school so I was at home when the cops raided my home. My mom and dad's look on their face killed me. That day the joke was on me because it turned out my so called friends did all of this. They thought it was a great joke after VT College shooting. I remember the man who drove me in. He would keep his gun under his car seat. In my mind this was all fake so I was laughing. It was not though. That was my first time in jail. They called me rock star because I would head bang my head on the walls. They put me in a suicide outfit. A month or so went by and I went to William S Hall or Bull Street in SC. Then they shipped to Greenville to a home for kids who had things going on. By age 18 I was doing my own thing with drugs and drinking. By age 19 I moved back to the beach. I got into meth bad and getting drunk and doing tattoos. Then I moved into the KOA campground and Hell's Angels moved in next door. BJ, I saw him as somebody I wanted to become. So they opened up BJ's Scooter's in Myrtle Beach. It's still open and I still see them. He taught me how to stick up for myself and gave me a job. But the drinking got way worse. I was drinking so bad I started speed and learned how to cook. I was riding with my brothers. Sometimes it got bad.....What I do is try to stay strong and take my meds. But as today all the stuff I have been through makes me stronger.
Phillip is 25 years old and lives in Irmo, SC with his parents and daughter. He loves tattooing in his free time. He has a dog that he loves very much. He is also working very hard on his recovery from drugs and getting a place of his own for he and his daughter.