Sooooo…I went off the deep one day and wrote about 2,500 words into my phone. Was probably experiencing hypergraphia. I did one better and ended up pasting it to my “about me” section on my public Facebook profile. This is something I edit often to pass time and have tried to be as honest about myself in it as possible. I suppose I’m looking for like-minded people to give me an opinion and I happen to find this forum quite interesting. Do I do anything with this? Do I keep writing? Might consider starting a reddit account but I don’t have the guts. This isn’t the first time I’ve cranked out a few pages on my notepad and I’m not even sure what kind of writing style this is. Anyways, here’s my “about me”.
-“I’m writing this as a public service, you’re welcome.
If a psychologist were to coin me from a mile away, she would probably say I’m a selfish, narcissistic, sociopath. She might be right. Growing up as a tiny white boy in the Pacific Northwest, I could also be a racist, homophobic, misogynistic bigot. I don’t have any gay or black friends, but I’ve treated every woman I know like complete ■■■■, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I did them as well. Thankfully, I was raised by video games and Ritalin, so I grew up with a slightly open mind. Being spoiled didn’t help my issues, I received everything I wanted from my rich father who worked his life away. Now I’m a control freak and It’s incredibly easy to piss me off, but can be hilarious fun. These are all things I’m slowly growing out of, just pray for me. There is a long string of depression, sexual abuse, addiction, and suicide on both sides of my family. we’re all very smart, but very ill.
My ■■■■■■■■ must have started from the abuse of a babysitter, leaving me with this “beautiful” mind. Ever since then, I couldn’t be left alone with someone else. Thank GOD it wasn’t my parents or family. I got lucky there. Mom, dad and sis, ya did good by me, thank you. I still love and trust them for that and I’ve carried good morals from them. I haven’t hurt or stolen from anyone and that might be all I can say for myself other than being my daughter’s best friend, next to her grandmother, of course. I guess I should be proud of myself for that? I don’t even like children, I mean at all, yet they seem to love me for some reason. Cash me outside screaming my face off in a heated argument with an eight-year-old over which Pokémon type is superior while everyone else talks about everyone else. I’ve somehow become the kid whisperer, but honestly, I’d rather just be in my own world high as a kite somewhere.
My depression is nothing short of embarrassing. Let’s be worthless. Useless. Let’s be an agoraphobic mess one moment, jumping on furniture the next. Let’s call an ex. Let’s call the president. I believe this started when my cousin Ben, who was my best friend, killed himself when I was sixteen. I don’t think I realized how much I loved him, even now, but that mother ■■■■■■ was my favorite person on earth. I at least knew that. And then he ■■■■■■■ died. Shot himself with a .300. I think this was my first real taste of betrayal. Abandonment. Nothing is permanent and nobody can be trusted. The world looked completely different after finding out I’ll never see him again. A bit traumatizing? Shortly after that, I cheated on my first lover with a friend of hers in school and broke both our hearts. I really did that. Trauma for everyone. Maybe I can blame my infidelity on the depression? ADHD? My depression now stems from my infidelities and life choices. Hm. I was pretty much stuck in my own hole after that, I had an excuse for everything I did wrong. I would blame anyone else for my shortcomings and I still do to this day.
Let’s just say I have a highly toxic, highly addictive personality and female attention is my drug of choice. Inflate me, admire me, cherish me. Look at me while I wave my feathers for you. I’m an egotistical, loud-mouthed show off. Kiss me. ■■■■ me. Love me. I was wired for the rush at a very young age and the results are in. I’m a freak. Not just any rush, mind you, but one that scares the living ■■■■ out of me. Drop me off a ■■■■■■■ cliff, please. Lock me in a dark room with a stranger. Send me to the nightclub high on acid. Let me watch you screw. Life hasn’t been so calm, guys, it’s been a violent, reckless nightmare. Bloodshot eyes and gritted teeth. You’ve never seen anyone so happy yet so sad…I’ve been an insane fool. I’ve ridden, driven, drank, ■■■■■■■ sped and spoke as often as I possibly could. I survived on the smell of gasoline and hair spray. Just ■■■■ my brains out honey, you look beautiful tonight. Maybe I’m psychotic? You tell me. I have what they call “Red Cross track marks“ on my left arm from a completely different addiction. This is something I’ve never explained unless asked about, and I’ve never been asked by anyone other than medical professionals or officers. Their reactions are priceless. Think I’m proud of myself? I might sound like it, but these aren’t bragging rights, these are mental scars that will haunt me for life if I don’t buck the ■■■■ up. I have a daughter now, for Christ’s sake…If I were being honest (and let’s just keep this between us), I’m afraid of my own goddamn future.
My high school sweetheart and I took each other’s virginity which didn’t help my possessive attitude in the slightest. I became obsessed and the idea of her with anyone else would soon drive me insane. Cheating on her immediately set in the “lockdown” mentality and made all my preexisting problems multiply ten-fold. I tried to control every aspect of her life out of fear of her cheating back on me. I was the most insecure person in my class. The end of that relationship was one of the most miserable and humiliating sites I’ve ever seen, as well as the rest of my break ups and love styles. My mother knows this best because I’ve probably shortened her lifespan through worrying the living ■■■■ out of her with my self destructive behavior. I’m either schizophrenic as ■■■■ or just plain socially ■■■■■■■■, but I couldn’t get a grip when I was near girls. My life has literally revolved around women since then but at least I remember every single one of you amazing individuals.
To all of you…I am so, so, so, so sorry. I am sorry. God. ■■■■■■■■ Dammit I am. My behavior, my attitude, my petty, chauvinistic demeanor…I was a ■■■■■■■ nightmare to you. Especially you. A savage ■■■■■■■. Downright mean, greedy and disrespectful. Cruel. Honestly, who wouldn’t have cheated on me? Some of you have seen me in darker times than any of my friends or family. Some of you I’ll never see again in my life and you’ll never know how I feel today. That might be a good thing. I’ve had other women, I’ve been the other man, I’ve caught them and they’ve caught me. I’ve had my heart broken six ways from Sunday and so have they, it never ends well. Each and every one of you has a spot in my heart that some hurt and some heal. Addiction no. 1? Cheating is one of the biggest rushes I’ve experienced in my life but causes an energy-sapping slump that might never end until the relationship does. Be careful.
Fast forward to 22, I went into a very legitimate hypomanic phase that lasted for a year. Holy ■■■■, best times of my life. Believe it or not, I truly thought I had what it took to ride my motorcycle to LA and become an actor. I worked for eight months at a car wash and saved 5,000$ with this idea in my head. Everything was in motion, including the idea that I could handle alcohol. ■■■■. Before dying, my cousin Ben was what they call “straight edge” and we all looked up to him for that, so I remained that way up to six years after his death. I was sober even past my 21st birthday. Drinking any amount of alcohol was a huge deal and these were my first experiences in an altered state. 2011 was quite wild.
Acohol…Not surprisingly, my most dangerous addiction. Any other drug I’ve ever taken, from MDMA to ketamine, has not only been safer than booze, but even beneficial in treating alcoholism (I’m especially looking at you, Lsd). I didn’t drink everyday, I would just black out at least once or twice a week. I never enjoyed the taste of alcohol. Any of it. It was just a very effective tool for momentarily ridding fears of the future, but create more trauma from within. Despite how much flack my family gives me for my fascination with mind-altering chemicals, drinking is what slingshotted me through the next decade of cheating, riding, jail, failed relationships and several near-death experiences. I’ve changed the shape of my body multiple times. I’ve gone sober for consecutive weeks, months and even years, always to relapse. I’ve lost my memory on countless occasions. I’ve woken up with my motorcycles inside, outside, on their side, in pieces and even missing. I can honestly only remember half the miles I’ve spent on the road and the only thing I haven’t forgotten is who I’ve had sex with. When I think about the kind of stupid ■■■■ I’ve done and said over the last ten years while drunk, it frightens me, I want to puke. The combinations of words that have exited this godforsaken mouth of mine…I paralyze in horror at the memories that manage to slip back through the threshold of these intense blackouts. If alcohol can be avoided then avoid it, but it can’t, so ■■■■ the world.
Because of all the boozing in 2011, I was too fat and lazy to give the silver screen any real attempt and instead rode my motorcycle all over California and the rest of the eleven western, partying my ass off like the future didn’t matter. I eventually came back from Los Angeles with a new addiction and started growing pot. Glamorous. Selling pot from my father’s spare house was a good way to meet many different girls, but learn zero responsibility. Perfect for the womanizer I am, little did I know, I was the one being stalked. One of my customers apparently had an eye on me for a couple years and finally got her way. Probably the most attractive woman I’ve ever met, she’s also eight years younger than me, so I honestly never took my chance until I had no choice. I actually knew this person for a few years without objectifying her and just ruined other good women instead, but one fateful day she showed up to buy pot and never left. I had no idea she enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed hers. She spent every night with me since 02/02/16 and became the mother of my child and the first woman I’ve ever been faithful to in my life…Ironically.
Now, when I said alcohol was my most dangerous addiction, I lied, it’s obviously her. Maybe the smartest woman I’ve ever met? Maybe the most vindictive? Maybe I was? How can I tell the difference between love and addiction? Did I ever really care about her like a normal person should? I was absolutely out of control with this one and spiraled back into the land of obsessive hell. I can’t ■■■■■■■ tell who took advantage of who and that might be the point I’m not getting. I was on cloud 9, twitter-pated, dumbstruck. Eyes, lips, hair, skin…Ruin my ■■■■■■■ life, PLEASE. And she did. Full system shut down on this one, guys. The relationship I’ve had with this woman has changed me as a person more than anything I’ve ever done, seen or heard, for better or worse. I was actually on my longest stent of sobriety when we started dating, but I missed her too much when she would disappear and I started drinking yet again. So sorry, you sad boy. Maybe get a job? Move out? Pay your bills? Stop surviving off daddy? I certainly didn’t treat her like she was worth it or show any ambition to better myself. My vicious cycle just continued and I got very good at ignoring warning signs for this beautiful face. Maybe she just enjoyed a free place to stay and I was too whipped to see it? There were unsolvable issues in her own life and I didn’t want to pay any attention to anything else but how I felt. I didn’t want to believe what I knew, instead I would believe anything she told me and I washed those red flags down with a spoon full of sugar and vodka. My mouth would run for miles on the topic of her whereabouts when I was drunk, the fights were like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The jealousy and projections, the suspicions, the gaslighting…and violence. Until she admitted to it.
Damn, four years? So I wasn’t accusing, projecting or being possessive? Of course I was, I’m the biggest piece of ■■■■ on the planet. Right? After all my arguments and being made to feel like I’m sick in the head? My bad. Why would I let these fights go on for so long and not just…leave? Easier said than done, mental abuse is no joke, but a hidden killer. She had me convinced that I was the luckiest guy on earth to have her, especially how well she put up with my “sickness”. My jealousy. I would believe anything for this face. So I’m sick now. Awesome. I just wanted to believe her so badly, I would have been such a fool to leave an angel like this after all she’s put up with and done for me. Yeah. Can anyone imaging what this has been like for our daughter? There is no energy left for her once another man comes into the picture. She gets ignored, neglecting, makes messes, gets in trouble. It’s ■■■■■■■ heartbreaking. I just wanted to focus on other things instead of all her mysterious behavior. I was happy with just her, our daughter and my horrible job. What had to change? Oh that’s right, I was too “sick” to handle and she has everyone including my own mother convinced that I’m an unbearable monster. Here’s the bottom line; if you cheat on your man, whether or not he finds out, it’s going to be ■■■■■■■ miserable on your whole family, especially your daughter.
It looks like my karma has finally caught up to me for all the women I’ve treated like ■■■■. Here we go, the world is completely changing shape and appearance on me again. I didn’t mind when she was giving/receiving attention from other men, in fact, it was sexy. Male strip clubs anyone? Hot. Dress up and flirt nights were my favorite. Could I get a real man over here to slap this girl’s ass so ■■■■■■■ hard I can see that handprint in the morning? Ah, thank you very much, sir. I would just tell myself “she won’t if she loves me” and smile. We’ve been through enough. No more questions, no more accusations, it’s time to start believing this girl you’ve been telling you love for the last four years. It’s time to get down to some real ■■■■■■■■ I was getting so close to defeating my insecurities and becoming someone a woman could actually stand being around, but I guess I was the fool…now this? The mother of my child and love of my life? Just hang me. Of course it’s all my fault, I mean how could anyone blame her after getting knocked up by a low-life like me? I ■■■■■■ with her and she changed my life permanently. Goddammit, I am a ■■■■■■■ idiot. She really is smarter than I am. With a lovely combination of obsessing over her and self-medicating, I managed to destroy three or more vehicles in a matter of months, go through a dozen friends, wake up in and out of jail, hospital, home and hell. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. Not in a movie, not in a book. Write about it.
I will definitely say she has given me an incredible daughter, though, and I intend on making a machine out of this child. I was so afraid I wouldn’t love my kid like a normal human should or that I wouldn’t find interest or grow attachment. Now I want to teach her how to protect her emotions and how important trust is. How to help others, learn who needs help most and how to help herself. Teach her not to give a flying ■■■■ about what she drives or how big her house is. Teach her wisdom and self sustainment at a young age. Confidence, esteem, love. I don’t want a dead-beat like me controlling her life when she’s my age. She’ll be untouchable in this modern battlefield of materialism and psychology we have created, mark my words.
It’s guess nice to know there’s an actual point to my life now, even though I ■■■■■■■ hate being alive. I was able to do a lot with just a little bit of that love I keep talking about. Since this insane romance has begun, though, I’ve literally isolated myself from every one of my intellectual friends out of fear of judgment… Please forgive me guys, for I know not what I have done, let alone what I am about to do. Just keep those fingers crossed for me, would ya?
Oh, and ■■■■ dating. A woman couldn’t stand me right now if my life depended on it, I talk too goddamn much and I’m neurotic as ■■■■. There is way too much of me and I’m still a possessive control freak for that extra pinch of toxicity. I still want to own your body like some kind of trophy, I still want, want, want. I don’t listen either, just shut up and let me see you naked. I suppose nothing really has changed, I’m either a complete child or a truly paranoid psychopath. Maybe keep your distance and try not to say I didn’t ■■■■■■■ warn you like they all do. Until I pull my head out of my ass, hang onto your boyfriend for me, he’s my favorite place holder.“