Did you like the title? Admittedly it was clickbait....
So why am I here? This is a question that requires a winded explanation, but I will try to keep it as brief as possible.
My name is Mike, I'm currently 27 years old and I came from a chaotic childhood. My mom has Asperger's. She has never been officially diagnosed, but it is very clear. My father is a textbook narcissist. My upbringing was normal for about 6 years before things really got hectic; at least as far as I can tell. I think the only thing that held my family together as long was my grandmother. She was the only person my father pretended to respect.
I am an extremely creative individual, I remember having my creativity suppressed for the majority of my childhood. My dad was always more interested in creating someone that was just like him, he never encouraged me to pursue the things I was passionate about; in fact he degraded me for it. An example would be I always had a knack for music. I asked for piano lessons at a young age, and he kept insisting it was a waste of time or too expensive because it wasn't something that interested him (he's pretty tone deaf). Eventually mom got me a guitar and I started playing. I worked around the neighborhood for money to pay for lessons, and he absolutely despised it... He began to criticize me to the point where I felt worthless and pretty much stopped. I turned to writing mainly. He couldn't criticize what he didn't see so I began writing poetry. I bring this up because it's relevant in most of what holds me back today. Although I write for myself mainly, I have worked on a few things I intend to release at some point. If I ever finish it. I don't finish anything... I think this paragraph accurately depicts why.
I grew up with a lot of depression and anxiety... I was bullied in school... I think what saved me is in High School (which I was doing terribly in because of my home life) I left the home environment to live with my grandmother. Immediately I felt relief. If it hadn't been for this choice I would have dropped out. I flourished and began to be active in theater. This led me to start the biggest writing project I have ever undertaken, and am still working on. Essentially it's a screenplay. I honestly don't know if I'll finish it... I'm close. It's deeply personal, but at the same time entertaining. It hurts to write.
In high school I found a group of friends I became close with and met a girl that I should have married. The decision to leave her is a decision I now regret ... Her father committed suicide while I was with her, and though I couldn't admit it at the time I saw myself in him having suffered though mental illness and being hospitalized a few years prior. This was a group of extremely open outcasts. They were great friends. They are relevant to the story a bit later.
After high school I didn't really have a cohesive plan. I was going to go to Community College and transfer and get my degree. My junior year my grandmother died and I had to move in with my uncle and take the city bus to school because I was out of district. My uncle is one of the few positive male role models in my life. There are a few people I'm really appreciative of. Including my theater teacher. I don't resent anyone for the pain now, but it took years for me to understand it. After High school I ended up moving back home and was going to go to school nearby and work. It was a bad idea because all the things I had worked towards I abolished the moment I made that decision. I don't have anyone to blame for it but myself, I did what was easiest and not what was best. I don't know if I was conscious of that at the time or not.
The next several years I plummeted back into chaos. I started using drugs. It's been a wild ride.
I was diagnosed as bipolar around age 19. I think I was misdiagnosed and I'm pretty sure it was something that therapy could have solved, but they put me on meds. A lot of the recreational drugs I was using was to counteract the medications. Amphetamines, cocaine... They had me on Seroquel, Lithium, Klonopin, Depakote, and an SSRI at the same time. I think the second biggest regret I have is going on the drugs that were prescribed... I don't know if I needed them or not. I don't now, but that took 7 years of work.
I am now mostly drug free... I was never addicted to the recreational drugs I used. I will still occasionally use drugs, but usually for a purpose, and never to excess.
The hardest prescription to get off of was Seroquel I kicked that two years ago... I feel like I have more clarity now than ever before. Of course when I woke up, I began to realize that the world around me was in Chaos. Even though I personally had finally leveled out.
I realized the friends I had isolated myself from had become indoctrinated at some point. They are all Regressives. I don't know how I avoided it. The big red pill moment for me was after I dated a girl. She was Borderline, not the violent type but the quite type. She was manipulative... and very resentful towards her family. Unfortunately she chose to stay around them. She had a chronic pain condition that wasn't debilitating, it became a convenient excuse to cop out of life. I began after some time of dating her to realize how toxic her upbringing must have been. I have some form of empathy towards the circumstances that led her to her current state. I have no sympathy for someone that wanted someone else to change it. She began to tell me I was abusive. She broke up with me with a 12 page letter. I read the letter and although some of it was accurate, the majority of it was projection. I then took time trying to figure out why I chose these damaged people... It was a theme. She was a feminist and it began a journey of knowledge that revealed a lot of lies that I had accepted as fact.
I realized I dated these type of people because I felt like I needed to fix them. The problem is I had just really started making progress fixing myself.
I read almost incessantly...
My writing style has transformed especially as far as my poetry goes. It usually connects an abstract idea with a personal event. Here is an example this poem is about that relationship and my personal struggle not to react... "Urge"
She is a demon,
She stabs me with a knife of truth
The steel ignored my body
It has slain my soul.
What happens when soulless masses congregate?
What happens when you fool the masses into thinking they have a soul?
The rational aspect
Hath overtaken the emotional inside me,
Does this make me hate?
I don’t hate her actions I hate the truth…
A truth that vowed long ago to whip me,
Leave Gashes on my back.
A truth that tortures me until I’m ugly to look at
Even though the only air I breathe Is air I’m compassionate enough to share.
So I examine the situation...
I sit here weighing virtues
As if I’m pretending to be virtuous
When I am but a stain,
Flawed and flawless All at once.
I ignore the animalistic warrior nature,
Yet imagine how fun it would be to devolve
To become a primal entity; A reactionary being…
That is the state of things
We all react,
Reactions are easy
Reactions Are Appeasement
Reacting makes you human…
Reactions are not Virtue,
But we’re content on pretending they are.
This is the short version... I could have written a book about it honestly. I feel like lately I've become to rational, if there is such a thing. I feel very alienated right now because the group of friends, who I deeply care about think I'm deliberately trying to attack them. One of them posted a status that said "Fuck Transphobes" and I asked them to define it. When I expressed that I think it's immoral for someone to withhold their biological sex, that I too was a transphobe... They tried to guilt me into silence, but I refuse to be silenced... Every argument I had was valid. Apparently I'm trying to hurt other people to make myself feel better.
There was a point where I might have done that, but I have been working hard to better myself.
I've made it part of my life's purpose to fight the brainwashing, especially on campuses. I have made plentiful mistakes, and though my upbringing is a contributing factor. I made a lot of terrible choices myself.