I stand at a strange turning point in my life. I’m a researcher. A student of life. I look upon peoples hopes, dreams, and aspirations and wonder. I feel foreign to it all. I want those that read this to understand me just a little. Any who chooseÂ to respond may do so, but i ask that you ponder heavily upon what you say, considering all that i have written.
I am young. Not as young as you would think, but too young in many peoples eyes as to deserve condolences or ridicule for even considering leaving this mortal realm. But my life thus far has matured me far beyond my years. My open mind has allowed thoughts and other various knowledge to grow rather than solidify as age usually does. Yet, i am quite adamant on many things.
I will say now that i do not wish to die. But i do not wish to live either. Many people often dream of being rich, successful, or happy. Many hope to find love in either a person, lover, place, or activity. Some just wish to know their place in this blip of an existence. But for me? I just wish i could fade away. My biggest dream is to no longer exist.
My life goes as thus. I will not mince words. Just facts and observances. I don’t have the luxury of emotional writing, so do not expect any. I was raised in a seemingly normal family. A mom and dad with 2 sisters and a brother. I was young and energetic even for a child. I had a knack for overachieveing. I loved leading, learning, teaching, and talking to much. I loved to surprise people by reacting to life and other scenarios in a way no one would expect. Where some saw impossibility i saw opportunity. My imagination being second to none. I was naive, but happy. Yet, i always carried an awareness, a strange pocket of wisdom in my little brain, to pick up things people didnt normally see. Things that required a lot of experience to understand. I resonated a purpose that drew people to listen to me even in the early spring of my life. More often than any i would hear “He has such great potential”. I often tried to act on this. Always seeking to better myself. From what little i remember (its all slipping away more and more with each passing day) my mother was the biggest inspiration of this. Her favorite saying “Always be kind, have a good attitude, never give up” was personified through her words, actions, countenance, and the way she carried her self.Â I have to admit how strange it is to look back on her.Â I knew i loved her yet i feel nothing now.Â But I digress, my life was normal middle class. My mother thought i would do great things, but something held me back from that discovery being found by others. I learned quickly, yet it seemed i forgot just as fast as i learned. I was energetic, yet had to rest more than most. I was smart and quick witted, yet my words would often become garbled and unintelligible. One second my brain was as fast as a race horse, the next i could barely concentrate well enough to read. But because of beingÂ practically a prodigy one second and a dullard the next. People classified me as an eccentric normal child. Nobody cared to believe i had anything wrong with me. Yet many began to withdraw their belief in my potential. Wondering why i resonated that potential and yet my character was no where near it. People, maybe even my family, probably would have found out what the problem was eventually, but that when my world changed.
My father was a very short tempered man. I often received beatings for various reasons. Being beaten seemed normal to me.Â I thought it was normal. But as i had said before, i was very observant for a child my age. i realized something was wrong. So when my mother called all the kids together to ask if divorcing my father was a good decision, my vote was cast to be rid of him. Soon my mother divorced my father and they both remarried. The man my mother married was everything i could ever want out of a father. He was strong, sports oriented, and charismatic. He wasn’t too keen to except my siblings and I readily, but he was a good man and treated my mother right, which is all that really mattered. My mother than contracted cancer and died from it within a few years. She was the last real connection i made on this earth and she was gone. My step-father had tricked her into signing a form that gave him everything she owned, including the home i grew up in. The last place i have really ever been able to call home.
We went to live with my birth father who had married the stereo-typical fairy tale step-mother. She was cruel and probably a little on the insane side. I was ridiculed and degraded by this woman as were my younger brother and sister (my older sister going to live with her biological father). My father was the only thing that brought some sanity to our constant self-esteem massacres (even though he wasnt the most stable person himself.)Â My constant inebriated dream like state of mind that possibly stemmed from a lack of energy and limited concentration lead me to create a character that many of my friends and family know today. My true personality relished being the best that i might help others and to feed my overwhelming desire to live life to its fullest. My true personality wishes to make people happy and loves to put his best self forward and through a combination of gritting self-preservation, over confidence, quick wit, vast intelligence and highly strategic thinking often makes very few mistakes and even less failures. But than this brain prison would hit and often i found my self saying and doing stupid things before i could restrain my self. Instead of living my life i was reduced to tying a rein around it and tring to control it the best i could.Â The character i created was a fat buffoon who often said the wrong thing and made people laugh. I was just some fat comedian. It helped people to not even bat an eyelash when i acted strangely. I had found the perfect combination for invisibility. Quiet enough not to draw attention, yet loud enough that people wont ask questions or see me as a mystery or enigma they must unravel. I drifted through life by this time. I became impulsive and selfish. Everything was done through habit or instinct (a way i live even today). Nothing was significant. Then it hit me, the state my siblings were in. I realized i had failed once again. This time at being a brother.
I didnt have the means to help them and make them happy. I wasnt connected to them. My heart was empty. I didnt know why. So i devised a plan to run away. Where in my father would see the loss and assume it was his failure and strive to be a better father for my siblings. It worked. I lived with my grandmother after that. My little sis was a class president and now has a kid and wonderful husband and my little brother has begun a real journey to find himself by joining the military. We really dont see much of each other.
My years with my grandmother were eventful to say the least. I first moved in when my uncle committed suicide my hanging in the front yard. To help you understand my heartlessness a little more i saw this as an opportunity. I got his room.Â A year before that my grandfather passed away. I was all she had left.Â My grandmother is OCD and a HUGE perfectionist. Her actions drove 7 of her 8 kids away from the religion they were raised in and on to more distasteful activities. My fathers side disowned me and my mothers side are barely held together. They only seemed to tolerate one another. Getting together because thats what families did rather than genuine love and affection for one another. I than became even more invisible. Standing out in peoples minds just until i leave then they forget. The friends i had gained never really got close to me. Only having me there as a sign of status. I wasn’t popular, but people knew me. I did just enough that people didnt ask questions. I raised my self at that point other than the constant criticisms of a diluted grandmother who pictured the perfect grandson, but wondered what this unholy creature was. I never did anything that society would find wrong for someone of that age (drugs, alcohol, sex out of wedlock, smoking, arson, etc). I didn’t wish to draw attention. I just wasn’t the person she wanted me to be and she found the best way to achieve that was to belittle me and break me down. I had a prison on my brain keeping me from my potential and physical weakness keeping me from finding a solution. I look back on those high school days and realize all my wasted potential and plethora of regrets. I didnt live.
I drifted till this point. I left for 2 years and finally realized i had a problem. I thought i was just whining when i thought my brain never being able to concentrate, remember, or understand or my body being constantly fatigued, delusional, or shaky, wasn’t normal. That i needed to “man up” and get going, but i wasn’t normal. I had a severe problem that i need to rectify in order to truly be my self. The man i was always meant to be. I realized the unconscious creation of theÂ character i had portrayed for so long that, i believe, i created as an act of survival. I realized that i felt almost no emotion and that i had been dead inside for a very long a time as if my body, trying to conserve energy,Â found emotion and connections to people, places, and things a unnecessary luxury.That i had lived this long making habits of how people act in certain emotional situations and counted that as emotion. Never feeling it in my heart. In my soul i love challenge and adventure and yet when i go some place new my poor memory barely remembers and lack of emotion makes the trip seem at the same level as a trip to the grocery store.Â I cant retain things i learn making school seem useless. If it wasn’t for my quick learning i would be nowhere fast. Nothing ever changes.
I have tried seeing doctors for various things. The family insurance i was on soon dropped me due to my age soon after my 2 year excursion. All my work to attain new insurance through benefits through my job and other means has failed due to the horrible cycle of my character. Do not misunderstand me. I do not want anyone to think this is a sob story to attain money. I wouldn’t except it. I just want to share my story and recieve thoughts on it.
I have tried other remedies outside mainstream medicine. The raw food lifestyle, herbs, exercise (as much as i can do with limited energy), to name a few. I even tested my emotions by dating, getting closer to my family, and renewing friendships. My heart remains windswept and empty. I would like to think it is depression or some other malady that could be solved through surgery or medication. But as i remain i feel the potential in me, knowing i can never achieve it currently. I wish to make this world a better place, yet i feel nothing for it. I look at peoples reasons to commit suicide and, i do not wish to belittle anyone for there feelings and reasons for them, but i wish i had reasons like that. Reasons like “my spouse cheated on me”, “no one respects me”, “I’m homosexual and i dont know how i will tell anyone”, “my family doesn’t love me”, “I’m -insert age- and doing nothing with my life”, and finally “i made a mistake that ruined my life and i have nothing left to live for”. If i had any of those reason at least it would have meant i lived life even just a little. I would have felt that heart break and sorrow. But as it stands life just happens around me as i stand still unable to participate in life because i don’t posses the required equipment to be apart of it. I am unable to be the man whom i have always been, but never able to be. I am tired. I am always tired. Battered and broken, i know i have no reason to keep going. Whats the point of love from others when you can’t reciprocate the feeling. People see this world through there own eyes. I see it as if underwater. My perception of life is like a dream. Nothing significant. Everything is wavy and seemingly insubstantial. Often times my actual dreams feel more real.Â I honestly believe i keep going because of the sense of survival i have had to have all my life. Maybe because their is a sliver of hope something might go in my favor and just like some happy ending i fix my problem and become what i was meant to be. But even if that happened i would have to relearn to live all over again as well as complete my other duties of someone my age. On top of it all i heard, once again, that someone sees my potential, but they can’t give me the position i need because i can’t act on said potential. Fighting has become a useless endeavor. I have tried to explain my situation to family and friends, but they don’t believe me. They cant believe the man i have been for so long isnt me. That i am something far more. They think i am just whining.
This story isn’t to gain sympathy. This story isn’t to gain renown. Maybe its my last ditch effort to try something before i give up completely. Maybe its to make sure my story isn’t lost when I’m gone. Who knows. But its here. Do with it as you will. You have been patient enough to sit through all of this. You deserve that much. Thank you.