There is a need inside me to tell the story of how I got here. I've told bits and pieces to others, but it always comes out censored or cherry-picked whenever it's told to anyone I know or interact with in real life. I feel like I can probably be more honest on here than I can anywhere else. I'll try to keep it as short as I can.
Thank you to anyone who reads this.
The family I grew up with are/were all heavy substance abusers. Booze and pills mostly. I've also heard stories about my great-grandparents that hint at some really dark stuff involving sexual assault. Depression, misery, screaming matches, emotional coldness, and talk of suicide were always around as I grew up. I was yelled at, ignored, and given no boundaries. I was the golden child and given everything materially. I was a spoiled brat and a target of manipulation and anger. Sort of a prize to be used in the constant games and power struggles between my mom, grandma, and grandpa. Looking back I can see that a defeatist and excuse-riddled perspective was handed to me pretty early on.
I kept a tough guy exterior to try and pretend like my upbringing hadn't affected me and that everything was just fine. But everyone saw through it. Looking back now, it's easy to see how screwed up I was. What I really was was a selfish and emotionally cold 'addict' who did everything for himself and no one else. I've been incredibly lonely my whole life. I've never made friends easily. Especially as a child, massive anxiety and no real understanding of how the social game works. As I got older I became goo at making friends but with little to no ability to maintain relationships. Truly, an abrasive and obnoxious person. I've always gravitated towards empathetic people as they seemed more able to put up with me. People of a more aggressive or dominant nature, I am scared around them. And that's the lie of a lifetime. Believing myself 'tough' while maintaining as much distance as possible from anyone who would interrupt the fairy tale I used to maintain the illusion. The older you get, the thinner the lie becomes.
There have been 4 times in my life where I've had MASSIVE panic attacks. I'd escape into something, and once the attack stopped, then that must be the right decision. And eventually I'd get back to my old self-destructive ways. Never completing anything. Never really thinking about the future. I was driven by pure animal fear to run and hide. So I'd escape into school or whatever it was. Always running. But there is no escape from life. So I moved from Eastern Canada to Western Canada, and to the big city. It was a constant cycle: arriving, feeling happy, then drinking and spending my way to ruin. Making friendships and then having them fall apart. Either by me actively being a prick or simply by lack of maintenance. Two years ago I had a complete mental collapse and invented a new persona. It was born out of fear of the world around me. Of being scared all the time. So I became aggressive and, really, a cartoonish villain. It was all a lie. Just a false version of myself. It eventually collapsed as reality came knocking.
I floated my hollow sense of self on two premises: that I was very smart and that I was tough. Now they've both collapsed and I'm exposed to myself. And boy do I ever hate what I see. I've been either cynical or insanely hopeful my whole life. There's never been that middle ground that I suspect well-adjusted people spend most of their time in. I'm honestly shocked by how stupid I am. I think there was a time when I was young when I may have been around or below average. But the fear of the deep shame I felt at being wrong kept me from listening to people who were willing to teach me. So all I really ended up with were a mind full of ridiculous opinions. But now I feel incredibly slow and with what feels like almost no short term or long term memory.
When I looked back I finally started to see the truth: I'm 34 with no skillset. The one industry I had any passion and love for I managed to get myself kicked out of. I have $30 000 in student loans and no degree (not that a philosophy degree is worth much). I am in bankruptcy, live in a shoebox, and can barely hold onto the job I have. I have no friends and am not going to be making any more. I am constantly rude and defensive to the people around me. I don't mean to be and I don't want to be. But everything they say hurts me. I know it shouldn't. But I am wallowing in a lifetime of shame at my incompetence and arrogance and everything reminds me of how much I've failed. I hate myself, yes. But I hate myself even more for being such an asshole all time. I spend most of my time isolated in my room. The outside world and people scare me. I used to be an 'outdoorsy' type guy and it disgusts me all the more that I am this now. I'm trapped. I've become my mom who lives on disability, pops pills, and wants to die. That old standby, hope, is definitely gone.
I realize now that there is nothing inside me. I'm a hollow person. I've just been one caricature after another. As someone once told me 'stand for something or fall for anything'. Indeed. I've never been grounded in anything but my own lies. And now that they are exposed I see how shallow and judgmental I've been. And I hate myself for it. I know others who are not like this. I now see this isn't how people are supposed to treat people. Every day is a fresh hell of regret, shame, and fear.
Thank you to anyone who reads this.
The family I grew up with are/were all heavy substance abusers. Booze and pills mostly. I've also heard stories about my great-grandparents that hint at some really dark stuff involving sexual assault. Depression, misery, screaming matches, emotional coldness, and talk of suicide were always around as I grew up. I was yelled at, ignored, and given no boundaries. I was the golden child and given everything materially. I was a spoiled brat and a target of manipulation and anger. Sort of a prize to be used in the constant games and power struggles between my mom, grandma, and grandpa. Looking back I can see that a defeatist and excuse-riddled perspective was handed to me pretty early on.
I kept a tough guy exterior to try and pretend like my upbringing hadn't affected me and that everything was just fine. But everyone saw through it. Looking back now, it's easy to see how screwed up I was. What I really was was a selfish and emotionally cold 'addict' who did everything for himself and no one else. I've been incredibly lonely my whole life. I've never made friends easily. Especially as a child, massive anxiety and no real understanding of how the social game works. As I got older I became goo at making friends but with little to no ability to maintain relationships. Truly, an abrasive and obnoxious person. I've always gravitated towards empathetic people as they seemed more able to put up with me. People of a more aggressive or dominant nature, I am scared around them. And that's the lie of a lifetime. Believing myself 'tough' while maintaining as much distance as possible from anyone who would interrupt the fairy tale I used to maintain the illusion. The older you get, the thinner the lie becomes.
There have been 4 times in my life where I've had MASSIVE panic attacks. I'd escape into something, and once the attack stopped, then that must be the right decision. And eventually I'd get back to my old self-destructive ways. Never completing anything. Never really thinking about the future. I was driven by pure animal fear to run and hide. So I'd escape into school or whatever it was. Always running. But there is no escape from life. So I moved from Eastern Canada to Western Canada, and to the big city. It was a constant cycle: arriving, feeling happy, then drinking and spending my way to ruin. Making friendships and then having them fall apart. Either by me actively being a prick or simply by lack of maintenance. Two years ago I had a complete mental collapse and invented a new persona. It was born out of fear of the world around me. Of being scared all the time. So I became aggressive and, really, a cartoonish villain. It was all a lie. Just a false version of myself. It eventually collapsed as reality came knocking.
I floated my hollow sense of self on two premises: that I was very smart and that I was tough. Now they've both collapsed and I'm exposed to myself. And boy do I ever hate what I see. I've been either cynical or insanely hopeful my whole life. There's never been that middle ground that I suspect well-adjusted people spend most of their time in. I'm honestly shocked by how stupid I am. I think there was a time when I was young when I may have been around or below average. But the fear of the deep shame I felt at being wrong kept me from listening to people who were willing to teach me. So all I really ended up with were a mind full of ridiculous opinions. But now I feel incredibly slow and with what feels like almost no short term or long term memory.
When I looked back I finally started to see the truth: I'm 34 with no skillset. The one industry I had any passion and love for I managed to get myself kicked out of. I have $30 000 in student loans and no degree (not that a philosophy degree is worth much). I am in bankruptcy, live in a shoebox, and can barely hold onto the job I have. I have no friends and am not going to be making any more. I am constantly rude and defensive to the people around me. I don't mean to be and I don't want to be. But everything they say hurts me. I know it shouldn't. But I am wallowing in a lifetime of shame at my incompetence and arrogance and everything reminds me of how much I've failed. I hate myself, yes. But I hate myself even more for being such an asshole all time. I spend most of my time isolated in my room. The outside world and people scare me. I used to be an 'outdoorsy' type guy and it disgusts me all the more that I am this now. I'm trapped. I've become my mom who lives on disability, pops pills, and wants to die. That old standby, hope, is definitely gone.
I realize now that there is nothing inside me. I'm a hollow person. I've just been one caricature after another. As someone once told me 'stand for something or fall for anything'. Indeed. I've never been grounded in anything but my own lies. And now that they are exposed I see how shallow and judgmental I've been. And I hate myself for it. I know others who are not like this. I now see this isn't how people are supposed to treat people. Every day is a fresh hell of regret, shame, and fear.
