Wretched
Dankness of Heart
Link to original post: [drupal=5472]Story of my Life[/drupal]
Hey there. My name is Sean, aka Wretched. I don't know what has possessed me to make a big block of text like this, but I feel like I need to tell someone to consolidate how I feel about all of this. I really don't have anyone close to me who I can talk to, so I guess this is second best? Some of the things I'm going to say I have never told anyone and are really personal, but I need to get this off of my chest.
If you've ever wondered why I'm called Wretched, there are a multitude of reasons. First off, one of my favorite bands is Wretched. That is a coincidence, because they called me Wretched before I discovered them. The word Wretched has also appeared a lot in other media that I could relate to. Poems, songs, song titles, books, etc. I think the best reason is that I look really ****ing sad constantly. I do wear glasses, but when I'm not wearing them and I have a neutral face, I look miserable. It is just the way I am. My eyes are sunken in, I have long hair that is always in my face, and I naturally have a frown. I don't look natural smiling. Even when I truly feel happy, I look weird smiling or laughing. I don't care, though. I think that when I take care of myself and I have long hair, I am pretty attractive.
So, I guess I'm going to tell you the story of my life and how one self-discovered flaw has dictated the control that I have had over my life. I was born in Texas to a loving mother and father. A few months after that, we moved to Virginia, and that is where I spent my life until I was 11~. In this time period, I was loved and encouraged. I really had no issues at all, and such a nourishing environment allowed me to be a confident and intelligent young man. I was homeschooled up until this time, but I wouldn't consider it schooling at all. I learned nothing and I did almost no work, and surprisingly, I was still very smart for my age. While I was happy and smart and confident, my parents had been setting me up to crash, you will find. During that time period, they smoked a bunch. I was aware of it, but I never put too much thought into it.
I guess where my life started to go wrong was when my parents separated. It wasn't a normal separation by any means. They had always been so happy together and then all of the sudden they were thrust apart. I had NO idea how to deal with it emotionally, so I didn't. I put it away somewhere in my subconscious. It was the easiest thing to do after not knowing how to deal with emotional pain. I had never been challenged in any way. I always got what I wanted and I did whatever I wanted, so when something big like this happened, I had no coping mechanisms except maybe suppression. My Mother abruptly took my from my financially stable home and drove me to Missouri. We moved into this piece of **** shanty house filled with thousands of spiders. It was horrible.
I started school for the first time and had no idea how to act around people my age. I was used to making adults laugh and having conversations with rational adults. I had no idea how to converse with kids because my vocabulary was almost the same as it is now. In order to deal with this, I never took anything seriously. Nothing ever had substance and I never applied myself to anything, and this continued throughout the rest of my life. My first teacher gave me 2 c's and a b. She was a fat piece of **** who had no idea how to teach. She expected me to come into the school system and be able to understand things that I hadn't learned. I was and am still good at learning, but she just tested me on procedures that they had gone over earlier in the year. She also saw that I wasn't very serious or social, so she assumed I was dumb and gave me those grades based on that.
During that summer, something great happened. We moved back and my parents got back together. Everything was back to normal and I was coming out of my shell again. That is until the events repeated themselves. We abruptly moved back to Missouri again. I hurt but I still had no idea how to deal with it, so I suppressed it more and just didn't care. I became so emotionless. School didn't get any better. I had long, beautiful, flowing hair and I went into the 8th grade in very small rural school, so I was rejected. I didn't really have any friends but I didn't care. The education itself went better. I got all A's and my teachers understood that I was a very capable individual. I also developed some really good friendships with the teachers. With that said, I gave no effort whatsoever, and this developed the fatal flaw that I mentioned whatsoever. The public school system told me "even when you don't try, you still get the best results possible, so don't try" I never applied myself to anything ever again, and all of my decisions were made instantly. I assumed that all of the choices I made would always be the right choice because I had some sort of... natural reason in side of me.
I turned to the internet and that became the ONLY thing I did. It was me. I sat on the internet and just wasted time. This further hurt my social capabilities because my communication skills soared in technology and fell in face to face interaction. Girls initially fell in love with me because of my shyness and my hair, but when they saw who I really was, they completely lost interest. I had many relationships but they all dumped me as soon as they figured out that I was just... sad. I was sad in all senses of the word. This has how it was throughout high school.
We moved before I finished a year of school, and I left whatever friends I had behind without a thought. I didn't apply any emotions to the situation because that was the easiest way to handle things. Just to forget the progress that I started making... It was unhealthy, but I had no idea I was doing it. This new school brought the same issues, only with closer friends. It seemed like there were people at this new school who understood me, but my social deftness led to me hurting a lot of people emotionally, and this just pushed me deeper into the darkness.
We moved AGAIN before that school year was up. At this point, there was no emotion. I just sat in front of the TV without a thought and just let life drift me by. I didn't know what to do because I didn't really feel any particular way about anything. I was impartial. I didn't care about food, people, girls... nothing. I didn't care. It was like I wasn't even a whole person. I wasn't even there.
We moved AGAIN before that school year was up... AGAIN. The damage was done, so it isn't like much more could've happened to me. I was just an empty palette. I had been through so much in my life and I had never taken a second to look back and think about how I felt about it. I was getting more mature throughout this time, but after we moved, I sort of had a revelation. I looked back and saw the emptiness, so I became anguished. I finally started to see that I had been gone. I didn't really have a personality. We moved back to Virginia and it brought back all of the painful emotions that I had never dealt with. I got a bad haircut for the first time and had to shave my head. At this new school, I had NO girlfriends. I was horrendously depressed. I didn't take care of myself at all. I didn't shower, I didn't put on deodorant. I didn't do anything. After my head was shaved, the best thing about me was gone. I look terrible with short hair, and as my short hair grows out, it turns into a white person afro. With no hair, my acne became a lot more obvious and abundant.
Before, I had no trouble initially talking to people, its just that I wouldn't develop relationships. At this point, nobody would talk to me. It was such a shock because I didn't realize what the depression had done to me. I started to feel something, but I'd rather feel nothing as opposed to sadness. I spent more time in Virginia like this, moving around more and more, sort of sad and drifting.
My real life started when I left the care of my POS mother (I probably should mention that later). I moved in with my Grandparents and I was ultimately starting to become a real person. Leaving all of that pain behind once again, I sorta started anew. I was happy with them. School was going well and I was becoming much more social. I actually spent time with people outside of school and I grew my hair back out. It wasn't a huge difference, but it was progress.
Then my Grandma abruptly died of cancer on Chrismas Eve.
I still had no idea how to cope with this sort of trauma. My Grandpa cried on my shoulder and all I could do was stare blankly. I loved her and missed her every day, but I had no idea how to feel grief. I knew the flaws of my ways and tried to feel. I tried to deal. This was a horrible idea because it led to some horrible choices. The reason I started spending time with friends outside of school was because I found someone I sort of related to. I wanted us to be great friends, but he pushed me away. After the death of my Grandma, he introduced me to alcohol.
It was a terrible combination of live events and influences. My parents had drank and smoked all of my life so I thought it was okay, and I had always been this constant, dead person. I started to get wasted every night. Even by myself. I smoked a ton in and around my house, much to the disrespect of my loving Grandpa.
Then I found pills. I started to abuse pills heavily. They made me feel so good. It was like I was alive again, but when I came down, I started to feel emotions for the first time. It is like the death of my Grandma in combination with the substance abuse that had awoken my emotions, and now my only coping mechanism was drugs. I was impulsive as I mentioned earlier, so I could always rationalize getting another bottle and some more pills. I must've approached death 20 or 30 times from alcohol and pill combination abuse.
This was about the time that I got demodded >.>
Then came K2. K2 is a synthetic cannabinoid that provides a 30-40 minute high. It was highly addictive and destructive in my hands, as it was like the perfect substance to cope with this pain. That became the definition of my existence, and I just wanted to smoke all day. I wanted to just not exist because of all of the pain that I had been ignoring for all of that time that was just surfacing. I did whatever I could to get money. I spent all of my graduation money, I spent any penny my Grandpa gave me, and eventually I started to donate plasma to fund the addiction. It is hard for me to admit this, but I also stole a bike when it got really bad.
All this while, everything went back to my impulsivity. I always could justify getting another bag and I could always justify throwing away money on the spot to just get some more. Impulsivity has always been the detriment of my existence. When someone asks me a question, my response was almost always the first thing that popped into my head. I sucked so bad at melee because I never learned from my mistakes because I always played like a robot who instinctually did the first thing that popped into his head.
I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I needed to leave that place. There is no K2 here in California, and it can't really hurt me here, but it hurt me there. It made me really unhealthy. I got really skinny, and the stuff itself was just shutting down my body. It was bad. I came to California to work for my dad, specifically, but moving in with him has sobered me, and now I feel like I'm really alive for the first time. Without a substance to run away from emotions, I finally faced them. I've been in severe pain ever since and I've just been in an angry and sad depression. When I think about anything in my past, everything hurts, but I'm trying to be optimistic.
So, sorry if this wasn't structured all that well. I don't really remember my past too much because I've just been ignoring life for so long. There are a few things that are also eating at me that I should mention as well. My mother, throughout this time, changed. She became a person I didn't like, and I became a person she didn't like. She treated me like **** and had no empathy for me. The places we lived were terrible and she put us in a lot of bad living situations for no reason. It was her bad decisions that ultimately constructed a mess like me. My Dad was crushed after the divorce, and he went straight to hardcore drugs. His life went from owning his own business and making $100 an hour, having 5 loving kids, and having a happy wife, to being alone, working for $10 an hour, living with his parents again (at the age of 50), and being impulsive just like me.
What now? What the **** do I do? I don't have anyone. Nobody from my past has wanted much to do with me. My dad is depressed and that is rubbing off on me. I'm living in a house with him, his sister (an insanely overweight, greedy piece of ****), and his parents (My grandparents who I had never spoken to before I moved here). My Grandpa has cancer and my Grandma has a multitude of health problems that mean she is probably going to die within the year along with him.
Now, I guess I'm just going to run away again. I joined the Navy and I ship in 2 months. I suppose I will start life again and try to actually be a normal person who actually applies himself to life and deals with things like this, but I am really just tired. I've been craving an escape but I've been able to fight it thus far. Now what?
Hey there. My name is Sean, aka Wretched. I don't know what has possessed me to make a big block of text like this, but I feel like I need to tell someone to consolidate how I feel about all of this. I really don't have anyone close to me who I can talk to, so I guess this is second best? Some of the things I'm going to say I have never told anyone and are really personal, but I need to get this off of my chest.
If you've ever wondered why I'm called Wretched, there are a multitude of reasons. First off, one of my favorite bands is Wretched. That is a coincidence, because they called me Wretched before I discovered them. The word Wretched has also appeared a lot in other media that I could relate to. Poems, songs, song titles, books, etc. I think the best reason is that I look really ****ing sad constantly. I do wear glasses, but when I'm not wearing them and I have a neutral face, I look miserable. It is just the way I am. My eyes are sunken in, I have long hair that is always in my face, and I naturally have a frown. I don't look natural smiling. Even when I truly feel happy, I look weird smiling or laughing. I don't care, though. I think that when I take care of myself and I have long hair, I am pretty attractive.
So, I guess I'm going to tell you the story of my life and how one self-discovered flaw has dictated the control that I have had over my life. I was born in Texas to a loving mother and father. A few months after that, we moved to Virginia, and that is where I spent my life until I was 11~. In this time period, I was loved and encouraged. I really had no issues at all, and such a nourishing environment allowed me to be a confident and intelligent young man. I was homeschooled up until this time, but I wouldn't consider it schooling at all. I learned nothing and I did almost no work, and surprisingly, I was still very smart for my age. While I was happy and smart and confident, my parents had been setting me up to crash, you will find. During that time period, they smoked a bunch. I was aware of it, but I never put too much thought into it.
I guess where my life started to go wrong was when my parents separated. It wasn't a normal separation by any means. They had always been so happy together and then all of the sudden they were thrust apart. I had NO idea how to deal with it emotionally, so I didn't. I put it away somewhere in my subconscious. It was the easiest thing to do after not knowing how to deal with emotional pain. I had never been challenged in any way. I always got what I wanted and I did whatever I wanted, so when something big like this happened, I had no coping mechanisms except maybe suppression. My Mother abruptly took my from my financially stable home and drove me to Missouri. We moved into this piece of **** shanty house filled with thousands of spiders. It was horrible.
I started school for the first time and had no idea how to act around people my age. I was used to making adults laugh and having conversations with rational adults. I had no idea how to converse with kids because my vocabulary was almost the same as it is now. In order to deal with this, I never took anything seriously. Nothing ever had substance and I never applied myself to anything, and this continued throughout the rest of my life. My first teacher gave me 2 c's and a b. She was a fat piece of **** who had no idea how to teach. She expected me to come into the school system and be able to understand things that I hadn't learned. I was and am still good at learning, but she just tested me on procedures that they had gone over earlier in the year. She also saw that I wasn't very serious or social, so she assumed I was dumb and gave me those grades based on that.
During that summer, something great happened. We moved back and my parents got back together. Everything was back to normal and I was coming out of my shell again. That is until the events repeated themselves. We abruptly moved back to Missouri again. I hurt but I still had no idea how to deal with it, so I suppressed it more and just didn't care. I became so emotionless. School didn't get any better. I had long, beautiful, flowing hair and I went into the 8th grade in very small rural school, so I was rejected. I didn't really have any friends but I didn't care. The education itself went better. I got all A's and my teachers understood that I was a very capable individual. I also developed some really good friendships with the teachers. With that said, I gave no effort whatsoever, and this developed the fatal flaw that I mentioned whatsoever. The public school system told me "even when you don't try, you still get the best results possible, so don't try" I never applied myself to anything ever again, and all of my decisions were made instantly. I assumed that all of the choices I made would always be the right choice because I had some sort of... natural reason in side of me.
I turned to the internet and that became the ONLY thing I did. It was me. I sat on the internet and just wasted time. This further hurt my social capabilities because my communication skills soared in technology and fell in face to face interaction. Girls initially fell in love with me because of my shyness and my hair, but when they saw who I really was, they completely lost interest. I had many relationships but they all dumped me as soon as they figured out that I was just... sad. I was sad in all senses of the word. This has how it was throughout high school.
We moved before I finished a year of school, and I left whatever friends I had behind without a thought. I didn't apply any emotions to the situation because that was the easiest way to handle things. Just to forget the progress that I started making... It was unhealthy, but I had no idea I was doing it. This new school brought the same issues, only with closer friends. It seemed like there were people at this new school who understood me, but my social deftness led to me hurting a lot of people emotionally, and this just pushed me deeper into the darkness.
We moved AGAIN before that school year was up. At this point, there was no emotion. I just sat in front of the TV without a thought and just let life drift me by. I didn't know what to do because I didn't really feel any particular way about anything. I was impartial. I didn't care about food, people, girls... nothing. I didn't care. It was like I wasn't even a whole person. I wasn't even there.
We moved AGAIN before that school year was up... AGAIN. The damage was done, so it isn't like much more could've happened to me. I was just an empty palette. I had been through so much in my life and I had never taken a second to look back and think about how I felt about it. I was getting more mature throughout this time, but after we moved, I sort of had a revelation. I looked back and saw the emptiness, so I became anguished. I finally started to see that I had been gone. I didn't really have a personality. We moved back to Virginia and it brought back all of the painful emotions that I had never dealt with. I got a bad haircut for the first time and had to shave my head. At this new school, I had NO girlfriends. I was horrendously depressed. I didn't take care of myself at all. I didn't shower, I didn't put on deodorant. I didn't do anything. After my head was shaved, the best thing about me was gone. I look terrible with short hair, and as my short hair grows out, it turns into a white person afro. With no hair, my acne became a lot more obvious and abundant.
Before, I had no trouble initially talking to people, its just that I wouldn't develop relationships. At this point, nobody would talk to me. It was such a shock because I didn't realize what the depression had done to me. I started to feel something, but I'd rather feel nothing as opposed to sadness. I spent more time in Virginia like this, moving around more and more, sort of sad and drifting.
My real life started when I left the care of my POS mother (I probably should mention that later). I moved in with my Grandparents and I was ultimately starting to become a real person. Leaving all of that pain behind once again, I sorta started anew. I was happy with them. School was going well and I was becoming much more social. I actually spent time with people outside of school and I grew my hair back out. It wasn't a huge difference, but it was progress.
Then my Grandma abruptly died of cancer on Chrismas Eve.
I still had no idea how to cope with this sort of trauma. My Grandpa cried on my shoulder and all I could do was stare blankly. I loved her and missed her every day, but I had no idea how to feel grief. I knew the flaws of my ways and tried to feel. I tried to deal. This was a horrible idea because it led to some horrible choices. The reason I started spending time with friends outside of school was because I found someone I sort of related to. I wanted us to be great friends, but he pushed me away. After the death of my Grandma, he introduced me to alcohol.
It was a terrible combination of live events and influences. My parents had drank and smoked all of my life so I thought it was okay, and I had always been this constant, dead person. I started to get wasted every night. Even by myself. I smoked a ton in and around my house, much to the disrespect of my loving Grandpa.
Then I found pills. I started to abuse pills heavily. They made me feel so good. It was like I was alive again, but when I came down, I started to feel emotions for the first time. It is like the death of my Grandma in combination with the substance abuse that had awoken my emotions, and now my only coping mechanism was drugs. I was impulsive as I mentioned earlier, so I could always rationalize getting another bottle and some more pills. I must've approached death 20 or 30 times from alcohol and pill combination abuse.
This was about the time that I got demodded >.>
Then came K2. K2 is a synthetic cannabinoid that provides a 30-40 minute high. It was highly addictive and destructive in my hands, as it was like the perfect substance to cope with this pain. That became the definition of my existence, and I just wanted to smoke all day. I wanted to just not exist because of all of the pain that I had been ignoring for all of that time that was just surfacing. I did whatever I could to get money. I spent all of my graduation money, I spent any penny my Grandpa gave me, and eventually I started to donate plasma to fund the addiction. It is hard for me to admit this, but I also stole a bike when it got really bad.
All this while, everything went back to my impulsivity. I always could justify getting another bag and I could always justify throwing away money on the spot to just get some more. Impulsivity has always been the detriment of my existence. When someone asks me a question, my response was almost always the first thing that popped into my head. I sucked so bad at melee because I never learned from my mistakes because I always played like a robot who instinctually did the first thing that popped into his head.
I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I needed to leave that place. There is no K2 here in California, and it can't really hurt me here, but it hurt me there. It made me really unhealthy. I got really skinny, and the stuff itself was just shutting down my body. It was bad. I came to California to work for my dad, specifically, but moving in with him has sobered me, and now I feel like I'm really alive for the first time. Without a substance to run away from emotions, I finally faced them. I've been in severe pain ever since and I've just been in an angry and sad depression. When I think about anything in my past, everything hurts, but I'm trying to be optimistic.
So, sorry if this wasn't structured all that well. I don't really remember my past too much because I've just been ignoring life for so long. There are a few things that are also eating at me that I should mention as well. My mother, throughout this time, changed. She became a person I didn't like, and I became a person she didn't like. She treated me like **** and had no empathy for me. The places we lived were terrible and she put us in a lot of bad living situations for no reason. It was her bad decisions that ultimately constructed a mess like me. My Dad was crushed after the divorce, and he went straight to hardcore drugs. His life went from owning his own business and making $100 an hour, having 5 loving kids, and having a happy wife, to being alone, working for $10 an hour, living with his parents again (at the age of 50), and being impulsive just like me.
What now? What the **** do I do? I don't have anyone. Nobody from my past has wanted much to do with me. My dad is depressed and that is rubbing off on me. I'm living in a house with him, his sister (an insanely overweight, greedy piece of ****), and his parents (My grandparents who I had never spoken to before I moved here). My Grandpa has cancer and my Grandma has a multitude of health problems that mean she is probably going to die within the year along with him.
Now, I guess I'm just going to run away again. I joined the Navy and I ship in 2 months. I suppose I will start life again and try to actually be a normal person who actually applies himself to life and deals with things like this, but I am really just tired. I've been craving an escape but I've been able to fight it thus far. Now what?
