bluegenre
06-08-2014, 07:37 AM
Well I don't know where to start, but here goes.
For as far back as I can remember, I have been strange. My brain functions have been different from everyone else i met. I didn't fit in for a long time, I was to busy reading (hence my writing style) or making up beautiful world's for my mind to escape into. When I got into middle school i realized that other people had thoughts in their heads. I was shocking and I told my my (loudly, in a public place) that all of these people had lived entire lives and seen millions of things that no one besides them even knew about. She was very somewhat confused by this but let it be. I realized later that most people had grasped that concept at around six years old.
It was about this time that I started noticing my reflection. It looked odd, not bad, but not really right. I was fascinated and spent hours looking at myself in mirrors. I would forget what I looked like very quickly, and found it hard to recall much about my appearance, but this never seemed odd to me. Around the start of middle school I was given an IQ test. Not being the judicious type, my parents told me I had a very high IQ, and would be more intelligent than nearly everyone I ever met. This Served to drive me even further from my peers and made me begin to form odd introspective views of myself. For one I had slowly been developing a neurotic streak, In which I believed all manner of strange things. From the idea that aliens were looking for my in a spaceship and constantly scanning my house, to the psychic people that I talked to in my head. I was about ten or eleven by this point. I never told anyone because I was special and they couldn't understand anyway, so what was the point? Throughout most of my life, my parents bickered and fought. My dad was angry, and my mom was depressed. It was a cold, desolate house. We were poor and often went without Christmas presents and food, Mcdonalds was a wonderful luxury. I have always loved my family, but I know what role they played in the way my mind became bent. All through middle school and into highschool I very rairly talked to anyone, they were stupid and predictable, I could tell what they were all thinking. I spent most nights up reading, or playing video games, and most of my classes reading or sleeping. Animals were more entertaining, and i killed many small creatures for no reason. I would feel immense gilt, and remorse for the things i did, but I couldn't help it, I couldn't control myself. I would have killed the others too, if it was as easy as killing the animals. Even though I knew it would make me sad. In highschool I learned that people can be manipulated to think what ever you want them to think. The best way to blend in is to surround yourself with people that have problems and try to endear yourself to them. They would have done anything to help me, and it was good for a time. But I was still unraveling. I started dating in high school, I dated several girls on the simple basis that they liked me, and not even I liked me. I realized I was attractive and could get with anyone that bought my fake confidence shtick. Then one day i met a girl that I actually liked, she was strange and riddled with issues, but she was smart, and less predictable than the strange mismatch of girls she was surrounded by. I felt a sort of kindred spirit. For the first time, I felt happy to be around someone else. Things went to hell after that. I started to realize that I was wrong, I was some sort of bizarre, ****ed up, monster of a human being. I lived in a bubble of neurosis and anxiety. My entire existence was a lie that I had fabricated to appease my over inflated ego and overactive mind. She was beautiful and kind, and broken in so many ways. I wanted to help her, but for her. It didn't start out that way, but it turned into it. How can one broken machine fix another? By being clever. I knew how to help her, I had helped many people before, for various designs I had for them. But she was different. Nothing I told her shocked her. I told her everything, and she loved me more an more. I did help her, I helped her to save herself. Gave her a light, and hope, and stability. But I never took, I never asked for help. There were more times than I could count that I would be on a date, at some movie or walking in the woods picking blackberries, or on a picnic or making clover/ dandelion chains (she had a hint of the crazies her self), when I was suddenly not there. I would leave completely, and be scared and alone in my head, watching my body do what I should be doing, hearing my body speak. They happened pretty often for a few years, I would just leave, and when I came back I felt nothing but guilt and sadness. I still don't know what those things were. I am afraid of most people, I hide behind her when we go places, and try to be social but it is very hard. I moved recently, and I'm still scared of this place, It's to big, to clean, it doesn't smell, and I often don't know where I am (well I do, but I feel like I don't, i didn't forget, but I feel so alone here, nothing is right.) I often don't feel like me, and when I don't, I drink, Or take opiates to forget what I forgot. I don't have a drug problem, I havn't had any in a few weeks, but it's the only way to feel peace sometimes. My mind is very big, and very active. It won't shut up a lot of the time. It just keeps going on and on and on. I have a hard time sleeping most nights. I am 24 now, and I'm still terrified of everything. I can't drive, because there are to many cars, and deceleration scares me. I don't have a job because I'm scared of being alone away from my house. I want to get better but don't know how. I was given buspar (buspirone) by my doctor and it is slowly, slowly beginning to work. But it is such an agonizingly slow process. What changed to turn me from the evil mastermind I was most of my life, into this timid little man I have grown into? Is it really better this way? I became quite depressed at one point, three years ago, and was unable to even get out of bed but for food and restroom breaks. I laid there for two months, and when I got up one day, I was a different person. I am still a bit crazy, and also still a genius (i honestly wish I wasn't, as i do believe it was the cause of most of this in the first place.)But I am no longer dark, I walk by myself through the fields near my house and see beauty that overwhelms me and intoxicates me. I love everyone, because I was so ****ed up, and did some really messed up stuff. What I say now needs to be said to be acknowledged, so that it can not be forgotten or erased. When I was very young, about 8 to 10, I was molested. Most children will do these things a little with each other, but this was different. As I got older, my tastes in girls did not. At fourteen, in the height of my mania, I molested a young girl, her name was trinity. Her mother was a crack head and didn't care. That was ten years ago, and my heart breaks for her. I pray she never remembers. I was sick, and worry that I have ruined anthers life. I deserve to be hated. But because Of this, I have learned to love. I love murderers, rapists, child molesters, even serial killers. Because they are crazy, or broken, or someone else did the same thing to them. I am the product of pain and imagination.
The thing that brought me here was not a desire to speak, but an ongoing issue that I can not deal with on my own. I am not really depressed, maybe a bit because the anxiety keeps me from progressing in life, and from marrying my girlfriend of seven years. The real problem is that I simply can not connect with other people. I developed in such odd circumstances that I am incapable of communicating properly. I learned through sheer force of will how to tell even the faintest emotions in others, and that proved useless. People want to be seen a certain way, they don't want to be honest. I'm a stranger to my self. I look at myself every night in the mirror and see a face stare back at me. But it's not really a person. It looks like a person, but its just light reflecting off a mirror. I feel like a mirror too. I am not me, I am all of you looking at me. Whenever I interact with other people I behave like them. When ever I can hold down a job I always end up being a completely different person than my last job. It's like only my gf knows what I actually look like. So she can't ever meet any friends I do make, because I can not act around her, and my friends would see me acting weird and realize that I'm not really me. Do you see? I have an issue. Hell i barely understand what it is myself. This wall of text can go on forever, so I'm stopping it here. If you read to the end, thanks, and I'm sorry.
For as far back as I can remember, I have been strange. My brain functions have been different from everyone else i met. I didn't fit in for a long time, I was to busy reading (hence my writing style) or making up beautiful world's for my mind to escape into. When I got into middle school i realized that other people had thoughts in their heads. I was shocking and I told my my (loudly, in a public place) that all of these people had lived entire lives and seen millions of things that no one besides them even knew about. She was very somewhat confused by this but let it be. I realized later that most people had grasped that concept at around six years old.
It was about this time that I started noticing my reflection. It looked odd, not bad, but not really right. I was fascinated and spent hours looking at myself in mirrors. I would forget what I looked like very quickly, and found it hard to recall much about my appearance, but this never seemed odd to me. Around the start of middle school I was given an IQ test. Not being the judicious type, my parents told me I had a very high IQ, and would be more intelligent than nearly everyone I ever met. This Served to drive me even further from my peers and made me begin to form odd introspective views of myself. For one I had slowly been developing a neurotic streak, In which I believed all manner of strange things. From the idea that aliens were looking for my in a spaceship and constantly scanning my house, to the psychic people that I talked to in my head. I was about ten or eleven by this point. I never told anyone because I was special and they couldn't understand anyway, so what was the point? Throughout most of my life, my parents bickered and fought. My dad was angry, and my mom was depressed. It was a cold, desolate house. We were poor and often went without Christmas presents and food, Mcdonalds was a wonderful luxury. I have always loved my family, but I know what role they played in the way my mind became bent. All through middle school and into highschool I very rairly talked to anyone, they were stupid and predictable, I could tell what they were all thinking. I spent most nights up reading, or playing video games, and most of my classes reading or sleeping. Animals were more entertaining, and i killed many small creatures for no reason. I would feel immense gilt, and remorse for the things i did, but I couldn't help it, I couldn't control myself. I would have killed the others too, if it was as easy as killing the animals. Even though I knew it would make me sad. In highschool I learned that people can be manipulated to think what ever you want them to think. The best way to blend in is to surround yourself with people that have problems and try to endear yourself to them. They would have done anything to help me, and it was good for a time. But I was still unraveling. I started dating in high school, I dated several girls on the simple basis that they liked me, and not even I liked me. I realized I was attractive and could get with anyone that bought my fake confidence shtick. Then one day i met a girl that I actually liked, she was strange and riddled with issues, but she was smart, and less predictable than the strange mismatch of girls she was surrounded by. I felt a sort of kindred spirit. For the first time, I felt happy to be around someone else. Things went to hell after that. I started to realize that I was wrong, I was some sort of bizarre, ****ed up, monster of a human being. I lived in a bubble of neurosis and anxiety. My entire existence was a lie that I had fabricated to appease my over inflated ego and overactive mind. She was beautiful and kind, and broken in so many ways. I wanted to help her, but for her. It didn't start out that way, but it turned into it. How can one broken machine fix another? By being clever. I knew how to help her, I had helped many people before, for various designs I had for them. But she was different. Nothing I told her shocked her. I told her everything, and she loved me more an more. I did help her, I helped her to save herself. Gave her a light, and hope, and stability. But I never took, I never asked for help. There were more times than I could count that I would be on a date, at some movie or walking in the woods picking blackberries, or on a picnic or making clover/ dandelion chains (she had a hint of the crazies her self), when I was suddenly not there. I would leave completely, and be scared and alone in my head, watching my body do what I should be doing, hearing my body speak. They happened pretty often for a few years, I would just leave, and when I came back I felt nothing but guilt and sadness. I still don't know what those things were. I am afraid of most people, I hide behind her when we go places, and try to be social but it is very hard. I moved recently, and I'm still scared of this place, It's to big, to clean, it doesn't smell, and I often don't know where I am (well I do, but I feel like I don't, i didn't forget, but I feel so alone here, nothing is right.) I often don't feel like me, and when I don't, I drink, Or take opiates to forget what I forgot. I don't have a drug problem, I havn't had any in a few weeks, but it's the only way to feel peace sometimes. My mind is very big, and very active. It won't shut up a lot of the time. It just keeps going on and on and on. I have a hard time sleeping most nights. I am 24 now, and I'm still terrified of everything. I can't drive, because there are to many cars, and deceleration scares me. I don't have a job because I'm scared of being alone away from my house. I want to get better but don't know how. I was given buspar (buspirone) by my doctor and it is slowly, slowly beginning to work. But it is such an agonizingly slow process. What changed to turn me from the evil mastermind I was most of my life, into this timid little man I have grown into? Is it really better this way? I became quite depressed at one point, three years ago, and was unable to even get out of bed but for food and restroom breaks. I laid there for two months, and when I got up one day, I was a different person. I am still a bit crazy, and also still a genius (i honestly wish I wasn't, as i do believe it was the cause of most of this in the first place.)But I am no longer dark, I walk by myself through the fields near my house and see beauty that overwhelms me and intoxicates me. I love everyone, because I was so ****ed up, and did some really messed up stuff. What I say now needs to be said to be acknowledged, so that it can not be forgotten or erased. When I was very young, about 8 to 10, I was molested. Most children will do these things a little with each other, but this was different. As I got older, my tastes in girls did not. At fourteen, in the height of my mania, I molested a young girl, her name was trinity. Her mother was a crack head and didn't care. That was ten years ago, and my heart breaks for her. I pray she never remembers. I was sick, and worry that I have ruined anthers life. I deserve to be hated. But because Of this, I have learned to love. I love murderers, rapists, child molesters, even serial killers. Because they are crazy, or broken, or someone else did the same thing to them. I am the product of pain and imagination.
The thing that brought me here was not a desire to speak, but an ongoing issue that I can not deal with on my own. I am not really depressed, maybe a bit because the anxiety keeps me from progressing in life, and from marrying my girlfriend of seven years. The real problem is that I simply can not connect with other people. I developed in such odd circumstances that I am incapable of communicating properly. I learned through sheer force of will how to tell even the faintest emotions in others, and that proved useless. People want to be seen a certain way, they don't want to be honest. I'm a stranger to my self. I look at myself every night in the mirror and see a face stare back at me. But it's not really a person. It looks like a person, but its just light reflecting off a mirror. I feel like a mirror too. I am not me, I am all of you looking at me. Whenever I interact with other people I behave like them. When ever I can hold down a job I always end up being a completely different person than my last job. It's like only my gf knows what I actually look like. So she can't ever meet any friends I do make, because I can not act around her, and my friends would see me acting weird and realize that I'm not really me. Do you see? I have an issue. Hell i barely understand what it is myself. This wall of text can go on forever, so I'm stopping it here. If you read to the end, thanks, and I'm sorry.