Here’s one of my problems. And this problem irks me to no end.
I’m too stupid to be smart, and I’m too smart to be stupid.
In case you think differently, where you end up in life is wholly determined by where you start off in life. Anybody who tells you any different isn’t living in reality.
Anyone who grew up in a dysfunctional family and I mean a really dysfunctional family should be lucky to find basic stable employment.
If you didn’t grow up on military bases in Canada where dysfunctional families were shielded from civilian social services by the military’s wall of secrecy you have nothing to say on this matter.
How dysfunctional was my family? My alcoholic rage prone father brought his own alcoholic rage prone mother into the military housing on base to raise my brother and I as his physical abuse, mental abuse, and drinking was too much for our mother to handle.
My father tried to blame my mental health issues on his own mother. He told Alberta Social Services that my difficulties came from his “authoritarian mother, who was an alcoholic, and who was extremely cruel to his children”.
My issues at the time were not caused by my grandmother, nor my piss tank alcoholic father.
No, my severe depression and my major anxiety were caused by the two years of sexual abuse on Canadian Forces Base Namao.
The “counselling” that I received from Canadian Armed Forces social worker Captain Terry Totzke absolutely amplified and made my issues much worse, considering that my father, due to the chain of command, was expected to not question Captain Totzke’s treatment methods, such as blaming the sexual abuse I endured on CFB Namao as a result of some sort of “homosexuality” that I had exhibited.
And also Totzke’s refusal to let me receive treatment for major depression and severe anxiety really didn’t help the situation much either.
As I mentioned elsewhere, my father was heavily into electronics and computers. So much so that he always had work benches in the basements of the different PMQs that we lived in. He also always had subscriptions to Popular Electronics, Radio Electronics, and occasionally Elektor Electronics. Plus he always had his CAF / DND educational literature laying around, as well as his DeVry course manuals laying around.
Seeing as how my father had very little interest in me as a kid, I thought that if I picked up an interest in electronics and computers, maybe Richard and I would get along as we’d have something in common.
Richard wasn’t the type of person to try to instil creativity or curiosity in a child.
In fact, Richard was so insecure that he was never going to let his stupid fucking kids eclipse him. The stupider Scott and I remained the smarter he would look in comparison.
Picking up electronics and computers was indeed beneficial, but not in the way that anyone thinks.
When people learn that I dropped out of school after grade 8, people always assume that it was because I was a troublemaker or a problem child. The truth is, between my father and my brother, things were becoming too violent and too unhinged in our house on Canadian Forces Base Downsview.
By 1987 my brother was starting to run with a gang of thugs. He had already been to group homes a few times after he’d been arrested for B&Es and car theft. He was only 13 years old, but he was already taller than my father. Richard wouldn’t dare hit Scott. And because Richard could no longer beat Scott he turned his attention to me for failing to raise my brother properly and for not looking out for my brother. Everything that Scott did was because I let the fucking babysitter touch him.
And no, my father never got over the fact that I had apparently “fucked with his military career” by being the cause of the posting from CFB Griesbach in Edmonton, AB to CFB Downsview in North York, ON.
Even though in reality I know that Richard never would have paid for trade school, or college, or university, I know that when I moved out of the house at 16 I pretty well wrote off ever obtaining a trade or a diploma.
Yes, I did get my grade 12 GED, but that doesn’t matter for much.
And yes, I’m a 4th class power engineer. But that doesn’t mean a lot on its own.
See, when it comes to most any job that I’ve ever had, I’m actually nothing special.
Weird.
Misfit.
Fag.
That’s how most of my employers would have referred to me.
I even had one manger refer to me as “Freddie Mercury” as he “knew” that I was gay. Kept making me promise him that I’d use protection when having sex with other men so that I wouldn’t get AIDs and die.
Many years later I would have one manager at work who refused to have anything to do with me, and when I mentioned this to the manger’s supervisor I was told that the other manager felt very uncomfortable around me because I was “too flamboyant”.
Yeah, when you come from a dysfunctional family and you’ve got no family safety net to fall back on, you just have to put up with this shit and keep going. Standing your ground and making a scene is for people that have backup plans.
I’m a loner. I like to be left alone. I don’t interact well with others. I have to fake smiles.
I’m perpetually late for work in the mornings because I really don’t want to get out of bed. I’m usually very disappointed in the morning when I wake up as that means that I didn’t pass away in my sleep.
I don’t have the slightest interest in sportsball, movies, movie actors, or bands. Yes, I like music, and yes I like watching movies now and again, but I’m not a “fan”.
The one thing that has always seen me through like an ace up my sleeve is my familiarity with electronics and computers, and my reading and comprehension abilities.
But the one thing that my skills have never been able to do is make me feel fulfilled or proud. They’re just shit that I can do.
So, what do my skills let me do? Wait, I can’t call them “skills” because I don’t have a diploma or a TQ or a Red Seal. I guess that I can call them hobbies.
This.
Below is a write up from my second round of testing.
(b) Breaker PDC- E3 delayed vital
Voltage data request from holding registers 41000 to 41007
TX 05 03 03 E7 00 08 F5 FB –
RX 05 03 10 02 54 02 53 02 – 50 01 64 01 55 01 5A 02
52 01 5C 09 72
TX 05 03 03 E7 00 08 F5 FB –
RX 05 03 10 02 54 02 53 02 – 50 01 64 01 55 01 5A 02
52 01 5C 09 72
Amperage Data request from holding registers 42200 to 42207
TX 05 03 08 97 00 08 F6 04 –
RX 05 03 10 02 2F 02 56 02 – 5A 80 00 03 17 03 17 03
02 80 00 7C D6
TX 05 03 08 97 00 08 F6 04 –
RX 05 03 10 02 2F 02 56 02 – 5A 80 00 03 17 03 17 03
02 80 00 7C D6
Using modbus slave software to listen to the output of the IP to RS-485 gateway I get this:
RX 05 03 2E EF 00 03 3C 92 –
This means that the system requested that device 05 (delayed vital breaker) send the contents of the holding register (03) 12015 (hex 2e ef) and three subsequent registers, 12015, 12016, 120170. The 3c 92 are the checksum value for the transmission.
My software masqueraded as device (05), with the contents of the holding registers (03), acknowledged that the request was valid (06) and sent the value of decimal 50 (00 32) to the system. The 0a 6b is the checksum for this transmission.
RX 05 03 2E EF 00 03 3C 92 –
TX 05 03 06 00 32 00 32 00 – 32 0A 6B
When my software transmits the value of 50 to the system, the system displays that it read the value of registers 12015 (hex 2e ef), 12016 (hex 2e f0), 12017 (hex 2e f1) as decimal 50 (hex 00 32).
RX 05 03 2E EF 00 03 3C 92 –
TX 05 03 06 00 7B 00 7B 00 – 7B C7 85
When I change the value of registers 12015 (hex 2e ef), 12016 (hex 2e f0), 12017 (hex 2e f1) to the decimal value of 123 (hex 00 7b) the display on the system changes to 123.
Now, please understand that I am not trying to claim to be some sort of genius or expert. I just read the manual for the system, I read a quick write-up on MODbus, I ordered in an off-the-shelf USB-to-MODbus converter, and I bought the software.
Believe me, I’m not trying to claim to be a “hacker” or a technician, or anything like that. I’m also not trying to pretend that I wrote the program, or designed the interface, or “cracked” the system.
I just followed the instructions. When things weren’t clear, or when I needed further information I went searching for it.
I often feel the need to make this clear and to make it understood that I am not trying to claim credit for anything. This is just the stupid shit that I do.
Now, before you ask why I don’t go get a diploma, or a certificate, or a TQ, realize that my depression, my anxiety, my ultra low self esteem, and my intense lack of self confidence have never been dealt with.
Pills, therapy, head shrinkers, magic crystals, tarot cards, and positive thoughts don’t do sweet fuck-all against untreated mental health issues.
And mental health issues can’t be dealt with so long as the Department of National Defence and the Canadian Armed Forces want to go out of their way to pretend that absolutely nothing occurred on Canadian Forces Base Namao from 1978 to 1980 and that I’m just a “societal malcontent with an axe to grind against the Canadian Armed Forces”.
Beeshive 