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| The Story of an Outsider Posted by: Psykan at 02-23-2017 02:45 AM, Last Modified 02-23-2017 02:55 AM |
I'm new to this site, but not to the fandom...or rather, to mingling with the fandom I can never really be a part of. As odd as that may sound, I have a story to share - might as well do it here, yeah? Here's the thing, though: mine is actually a story full of trauma and experiences that nobody should ever suffer, and I will not be sugar-coating any of the details. My purpose here is to explain a substantial bit about myself right off, so that everyone - or most everyone, at least - knows a bit about me right off the bat. After facing everything I've suffered, I have no issue sharing my story here, as personal as it is.
Perhaps it may inspire or empower some members here, too...and no, that is not a prod to others here to share their own struggles or anything of the like - that decision lies with each respective individual alone. First things first, though - gotta get this outta the way before I start.
--WARNING--
IF YOU HAVE EVEN A SHRED OF DOUBT THAT YOU'LL BE ABLE TO HANDLE WHAT I'M ABOUT TO RECOUNT, STOP READING AND RETURN WHENCE YOU CAME. The details that follow are not for everyone, so to all who've read to this point, you have been warned.
To the staff: I'm going to be getting into some brutal stuff here, and as I've implied with the aforementioned warning, I do understand that I may be overstepping a rule in so doing. If after reading it you feel it's best for everyone else that this story not be available for viewing, contact me and let me know. Thank you.
Hmmm...well, this will be long enough to warrant using the page-break code. Might as well give it a shot now.
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--I. The End and the Beginning--
I suppose it might seem a little weird for someone who's 28 years old to be reminiscing and reflecting like this, akin to a senior citizen telling a bit of their past story and experience; however, the truth is that I have a kind of life experience nobody should have, especially at my age. This life story starts way back when I was just five years old and just starting school.
Like many kids at that age, I had trouble with focus, paying attention, and things like that. However, I also had a lot of trouble with self-control; angry outbursts and emotional meltdowns were pretty common for me, and it was just as common for me to get in trouble for them at school. It wasn't long before my mother took me to see a pediatrician, and I was subsequently diagnosed with ADHD (re-diagnosed to Asperger's syndrome when I was 11), bipolar disorder, mood swings and depression (some of these diagnoses were issued as I grew older). I was also put on Ritalin, which proved ineffectual after a short time; the doctor switched me to Cylert, which also proved ineffectual in little time. Rinse, repeat...this pharmaceutical revolving door of prescription and dosage changes, often occurring at the slightest change or whim, continued for the next 20 years of my life; what's more, doctors had me taking one drug at a time at first, but as I grew older I was taking two and eventually three drugs at a time. It wasn't until December 2013 that I finally stopped taking all of these prescription cold-turkey, and even now I'm amazed the withdrawal symptoms lasted only a few months.
I've since realized that I had essentially been made into a lab rat...a human test subject for these doctors under the guise of "psychiatry." Regardless of what anyone may think, this was in fact a transgression on their part - a show of medical and professional misconduct that drastically altered my development.
During these 20 years, I suffered a lot of mental troubles; emotional instability and some rather-volatile breakdowns (one of which almost got me expelled in seventh grade), abysmal memory and information retention, absence of mental focus, clarity, and stamina (I must have seemed like a zombie much of the time, honestly), and constant depression. To put it simply and bluntly (and excuse my language), what these doctors put me through was literal mindfuckery just to "find the right drug" for me when in fact each and every one proved ineffectual. Ritalin, Cylert, Imiprimine, Depakote, Chlomiprimine, Risperdal, Lamictal, Guanfacine, Lithium Carbonate, Abilify...possibly a couple others I can't recall. None of these drugs worked for me; instead, they altered my development...except, after very thorough (and in many instances painful) retrospection, I've come to understand that what these doctors had managed to do was stop the clock for my development. In the developmental respect, those 20 years left me suspended in the mental stage of a young boy of six years old.
It basically means that I lost twenty years of my life to these doctors and their transgressions. I learned nothing in school, even through the seven years and seven majors (chemistry, computer science, graphic design, forestry, international relations, environmental science, and sustainability) I attempted in college. I have no education history to really show aside from a high school diploma; I also have no job experience to show, and thus no chance of making an impression via a resume or CV...and really, how could I? This was all taken from me at a very early age, by the very people who are sworn to have the holistic well-being of others as their top priority.
That moment just before I turned six years old marked the end of who I was and would have been, and the beginning of my story and who I am now as an individual.
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--II. Abuse and Survival--
While I was enduring all the test-subject experimentation at the hands of these doctors, I suffered a number of traumatic experiences. The first took place over the course of four years, from when I was 10 to 14 years old; my mother met this guy at work and fell in love with him when I was 10. He seemed like a nice guy, and my mother had even asked me if it was okay for him to live with us, to which I said yes. So he came to live with us, and he and my mother married the next year.
If "he seemed like a nice guy" was any sign of foreshadowing to anyone reading this, you're right. As soon as they married, my then-stepfather took off his "nice guy mask" and revealed his true colors.
To put it simply and without any sugar added, he was a psychopath.
Almost immediately, he became a very different person: verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive to me (as his primary target), my mother, my sister, and our dogs and cat (I won't talk about what he did to my other family members out of respect for privacy). I recall many instances where he threatened me with things like "sending me to the hospital" or "getting an elbow upside the head." There was one time when he threatened to "jack me up" at an airport, around other people. Nobody did anything to intervene. He was also fond of hitting me with a belt, always in places that would be covered by my clothes. To be completely honest, I do believe he derived some sadistic enjoyment out of the abuse. The need to be the one in power and complete control at any cost is characteristic of psychopathy, after all. Over these four years, his abuse become more frequent and damaging, eventually leading my mother to kick him out of the house, whereupon he moved into a different house in the same neighborhood. A few times afterward, he would hop the perimeter wall of our house and watch us from the backyard; my mother spotted him on one occasion, prompting him to scamper back to his place (stalking is also characteristic of psychopathy). Toward the end of this period, he at one point grabbed me by the throat and threw me to the ground for taking a verbal jab at him, leaving a raw spot on my neck.
The climax - and closing - of these torturous years came on the night of February 15, 2003, when I was 14. My mother had invited a guy friend of hers to hang out for the night (yes, she was cheating and for very good reason), but since it was a school night, I was in bed trying to sleep. At some point, I was roused by yelling and screaming coming from the living room, along with profanities from my stepfather (since the only thing separating my bedroom from the living room was a short hallway, I could hear everything loud and clear). I would learn later that night that he'd hopped the perimeter wall again and broken into our house; it seems he knew my mother was cheating, likely through the way he was stalking her. I opened my bedroom door and walked into the hallway to see my stepfather standing over my mother's friend; he had knocked the guy to the ground, kicking him while yelling things like "YOU'RE DEAD, MOTHERUCKER!" and "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY WIFE!?" He'd also brought a handgun with him, and was pointing it at my mother's friend. Upon seeing me standing in the hallway, he turned the gun on me simply for being present, and told me to go back to my room...which I wisely did.
A moment later, three gunshots...then silence.
I'm not sure how much time had passed before the police arrived at our house, but at some point an officer came to my room to escort me out. A little late he told me to not look into the living room, where I saw my mother's friend laying on the floor, bleeding from the three gunshots he'd taken in the torso. My stepfather had already fled the scene in his vehicle, but my mother had to use her friend's phone because he'd severed the phone line before breaking in. My mother also had a bruise on her face from when he punched her for trying to get up to make the call earlier, which she recounted once the police had escorted us both to the main level of the house. My mother was visibly shaken, beside herself from shock at what had happened just moments before...but I was more or less composed, something I took note of even at the time. One of the police officers took note of it as well, though only to make sure I was okay. As the live updates about the situation came through the officers' radios, we learned that my stepfather had run a red light in his escape; a patrolling officer witnessed this and pursued. Upon seeing the pursuing officer, my stepfather shot himself in the head, taking his life while still at the wheel...and thus, taking an easy, cowardly way out.
Fittingly enough, he was the only one who died that night, as his gunshots had missed my mother's friend's vitals. My mother and her friend are in a partnership even now, and he's framed the dollar bill -which has a bullet hole in it - that was in his shirt pocket. Out of courtesy, my mother contacted my then-deceased stepfather's family to inform them about what happened, but the response she receive was anything but supportive. His parents, apparently, were the types who refused to believe their son could do any wrong - his father even called him a "gentle soul." They blamed my mother for his death and made her pay for his cremation and funeral. I'm sure they still harbor their misguided grudge to this day, 14 years later.
To this day, I still consider myself fortunate to have lived through that night. I came to terms with the experience not long afterward, but it wasn't until just after I took my life back into my hands from the doctors who'd suspended my development that I turned to face that gruesome part of my past. A silver lining of their misconduct, I've come to understand, is that although I remember every detail of those four years as vividly as if they'd happened yesterday, the experience did not damage my development - obviously, since I wasn't developing at the time.
I've found myself thanking those doctors for this...not so silently, either.
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--III. Romantic Void--
Several years after suffering my late stepfather's psychopathy and abuse, I met my first ex - at the time, I was 21, and essentially a late bloomer...or so I thought for a while afterward. She and I met on AIM back in the summer of 2009, in a group chat a mutual friend started. We became pretty close, likely because she was struggling with things as well (by this time, I'd been reaching out to others out of compassion, though it would be some time before I truly understood why). Since she was having trouble, I decided to be supportive. Unfortunately, that was a mistake, as it turned out she had some serious psychological and mental issues. Suicidal tendencies, episodes of psychosis, and some pretty extreme mental instability...similar to what I'd been dealing with for the longest time, though more profound. I was a little too naive at the time to notice the danger, and decided to stay with her - through the phone calls we had, where I was talking her out of suicide while she was attempting it...supposedly, anyway; through her psychotic episodes, acute breakdowns, and manic swings. I would often be awake well into the early hours of the morning, trying to be supportive.
I didn't pay it any heed, because I just wanted to make her happy; after a month of this, she asked me to be her boyfriend and I accepted - again, not paying heed to all the blaring sirens and flashing red lights. Thinking now, I think that was probably the worst mistake I've ever made - something I'm still paying for seven years later, in fact.
In almost an instant, she became possessive and self-centered to an extreme. Everything was all about her and her alone; I was given no personal space or respect, and when I tried to stand up for myself, she'd become profusely upset and play the victim card, acting on the pretense that I "wasn't there for her and didn't care." Even though it was a long-distance relationship, I found myself under a great deal of stress due to her selfishness; she would text me constantly (again, getting upset if I told her to ease up), and would often text me with only a single word: "need." She honestly believed that because I was her boyfriend, I had to know exactly what she wanted and when she wanted it without any communication - as if she thought relationships involved psychic awareness or something (and this is a pretty ironic statement for me to make, as I'll explain later). She also had a raging sexual drive, and being the naive 21-year-old boy that I was, I consented the first time to the "online sex" she wanted. When I found that I didn't enjoy it, she'd already ensnared me in more of her victim-blaming mentality; ever time afterward she wanted sex and I said no, she took advantage of my mistaken consent and made me out to be the villain just for saying no, because I "wasn't giving her what she wanted." On top of all of this and her mental issues that hadn't changed from before, she caused a lot of turmoil and tension among me and some of my friends.
I just a month of online-only dating, I was so badly broken and damaged that my friends had to help me break up and away from her. For five years afterward, I built a wall around my heart to keep anyone from coming close again, and I was honestly closer to full-blown misogyny than I ever want to be again. I'm still not quite sure as of now, but because this happened during that 20-year period, it's possible that those doctors inadvertently prevented me from falling completely over that edge. As of now, I've been able to overcome all the bitterness I'd felt toward women and anything related to love and romance after the things my first ex did, and with the help of female friends and some partners since, I've been able to make the painful, arduous journey to not just recovery, but also romantic development.
Having said all of this, some may notice that my relationship status is shown as "rather not say." I am single and technically open, but I'm still not quite sure about it yet; what's more, I've come to realize something things about my circumstances that effectively slash my chances of finding someone to a point where I'm better off not hoping for it at all. That too, I'll explain later.
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--IV. Loss and Gain--
A year or so after the events with my first ex, I lost my father to depression. His death certificate stated the cause was a gastrointestinal hemorrhage caused by excessive alcohol consumption, and although this technically is true, people don't drink themselves to internal bleeding for no reason.
My father was someone I never really knew - something, in fact, I was never able to get to know, since he and my mother divorced shortly after I was born. My mother and I remained on the west coast, while my father moved east to Maryland, where he lived until his death. I got to see him at most twice a year - sometimes by flying out to visit him, other times when he traveled to Phoenix (where I spent nearly all of my life). Many times he and I were at odds, though not in a confrontational sense; he was never around to really get to know me, so he treated me like a young boy even after my 18th birthday. Many of the memories of my father come from the things he'd periodically send in the mail - patches, stickers, and other things he received for his contributions as a quality assurance inspector at NASA, mostly for the Hubble missions. Lower on the rungs than an astronaut or researcher, but still important nonetheless. He never finished college, yet despite this, he worked for ten years as a QAI at NASA...until he suddenly quit with no real explanation in late 2007.
It was at this point that he fell into the death spiral of depression. I still remember things he said in the years leading up to his death - how he changed, and the account from the friend he was living with when he died.
I receive the news of my father's death on the morning of November 23, 2010; his friend had phoned my mother's boyfriend (the same guy who survived my stepfather's gunshots). My father had consumed extreme amounts of high-proof alcohol - rum and vodka, mostly - in a short window of time. The resulted in the gastrointestinal hemorrhage mentioned on his death certificate; he slipped into a coma from the blood loss and died shortly thereafter, without waking from it. He never made it to a hospital; instead, his friend went to check on him after not hearing from him for a few days, opening the door to his room to see his lifeless body slump to the ground. The people who were once close to him had turned away from him, and so he was truly alone in the end. At the time, I was still under the influence of all the drugs those doctors had me taking, and aside from the fact that he lived on the other side of the United States, I couldn't have done anything to keep him from going over the edge, either. he turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism; the lethal mix of deep depression and the alcohol he consumed as a result was what really took his life.
Out of all the experiences in my past, my father's death and the circumstances that led to it are the only events I can't help but cry over. These are bittersweet tears, though; although I'm sad he has passed while I yet live, he left me something in his passing - something invaluable, worth more than any of the material possessions or money I inherited from him: a love of life, and a conviction to never give anything less than my absolute best effort for what's important and dear to me...which happens to be literally everything. He's the reason I reach out to people who struggle with depression or mired in despair. I couldn't save him, but what I couldn't do for him I do for others in his stead. I've seen the impact this has made for others, even online through text alone.
Part of my being here on FurrTrax as a non-furry is to reach out to others and make a positive impact, because furry or not, it doesn't matter- not when we all feel and share the same kinds of pain.
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--V. Personal Development, Piece by Piece--
Because of misconduct of the doctors and their revolving-door pharmaceutical approach, and how I was affected as a result, I lost everything - who I was and would have been; opportunities and paths available to most everyone else were taken from me as a result, as well. During these 20 years of lost time, I was trapped in the worst kind of prison there is: a prison within myself, where I was trapped, bound, suppressed, and essentially locked away even though I was free in the physical sense. This abstract form of imprisonment ended when I stopped taking all of the psychoactive drugs of my own volition barely three years ago, and I was left to do everything on my own from the very start as there are no social systems available that can assist someone with my circumstances. My experiences fall beyond the understanding of practically everyone alive, even doctors and professionals in general.
I was given no other option but to create myself as an individual from scratch...and so I have, by drawing from literally everything that is and ever has been; all things past and present, tangible and abstract, living and inanimate; from all areas of human discipline, all theistic faiths (and lack thereof as well), philosophical teachings, and belief systems; from nature and its myriad cycle, life and death, and from the very world itself. Literally, everything has been part of my development, and this has drastically altered my perspective, path, and reality.
An important element in all of this is that because I had no school, mentor, teacher, or anyone or anything of the like to turn to, I am completely self-taught in everything I do. I have a genuine and equally-great interest in every branch of human discipline, and everything comes naturally for me, I've noticed; from complex scientific theories, law, and politics to arts and creative endeavors, to all manners of religion, even to the deepest reaches of the human mind and what "corruption" actually is...I can be exposed to anything and have what's essentially an innate understanding of it. What's more, I've come to realize my own psychic abilities, and unexpected side effect from all the screwing around I endured at the hands of doctors. It's a scenario you tend to see only in fictional works; the concept of an experimental test subject developing odd and unexpected abilities as a result. \Mind-linking, profound empathy, prescience and precognition, awareness and tracking of natural energies, extrasensory perception, and a lot of things most people nowadays tend to dismiss as nonsense...these are what I've realized so far, and they've already caught a number of people off-guard, especially online - the place where people echo that "you can't discern emotions and feelings through text."
The other side of all of this is that I lost my place in humanity as a result. Countless times I've experienced the limits of human understanding, and on many occasions have had instances of one-sided miscommunication, where I understand another individual, but they cannot understand me; what's more, the disparity is so profound that it often results in the other individual getting upset and completely misinterpreting my words no matter how much I try to correct them. I've had to come to terms with the fact that,with few exceptions, I will always be misunderstood by humans in some way or another. Even among my friends, this difference is blatantly apparent, and as outgoing and sociable as I am, there's almost nobody alive I can relate to. However, I can't possibly claim to be "alone," either. In place of a school or similar environment, I ended up making nature in its bounty and brutality my school, training ground, boot camp...whatever you want to call it. This has been a harsh, often brutal environment for my development, and I've routinely put myself in situations I'd sooner tell everyone else to never attempt; many times I've pushed the limits of my being to where I wouldn't be alive now had I not learned to recognize my limits, to adapt often on a whim, to maintain composure and self-control, and to dispose of the pride, hubris, and arrogance that have taken so much of humanity now. From the very start, adversity is all I've known - not the kind most people face in society, but the kind of adversity that most would never live through now. This is why I walk what's essentially a path of all paths, against everyone on every side of every issue; though I lost my place among people, I've come to see that, paradoxically, this is where I belong: a place of no place, a sense of belonging in not belonging at all.
This basically means that by my choice, I live as an outsider, outcast, and outlaw to humanity; I abide by the much-harsher laws of nature by which all things, including humans on every level, are bound. I understand the difference between the letter of the law and the spirit of the law, the latter of which is largely absent from many human societies worldwide; I have seen the truth of the modern human lifestyle and what humans have suffered for the connection they no longer have with the world and all things, and even each other as of now. My own trials and travails, harsher than anything one could face in a human court of law, are the reason I stand where I do now; the reason I walk with all things on the common ground called Earth, instead of propping myself above everything as much of the human species does now.
I guess in the context of the furry fandom, I'm probably more feral than most everyone else. Fear is something I no longer have of anyone or anything, as the boot camp of nature has already help me conquer it; many of the struggles most people face are things I can overcome on my own with little effort, and no matter how many falls I take or how hard I hit the ground, I always get back on my feet and keep moving - not simply because of my own strength or even because I've already realized what's touted as "true power," but also because everyone and everything is my reason, my drive, my conviction to keep walking.
The truth is that I can never really feel at home here or on any social site, within any group or community, or anywhere at all within the boundary of "humanity." So for everyone here, as much as I appreciate efforts to help me feel included (assuming that happens here much at all; I'll have to observe for myself), you will not be able to, no matter how hard you try. I'm here as a non-furry, but before that, as an outsider and someone whose place is no place at all. What I've learned from my experiences and everything I've already been through is that in the end, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I'm an outsider here or anywhere else; it doesn't matter where I came from, and it doesn't matter where the rest of you have, either. I'm sure a few people will disagree, and that's fine with me - however, do remember that irrespective of our differences, we all walk our respective paths by treading the same common ground, and this applies to everyone no matter their perspective.
Also, for anyone who might read this and get the misguided impression that I'm pompous, pretentious, condescending, arrogant or anything of the sort...hahah. The idea makes me laugh, so I hope anyone who happens to feel that way keeps it to themselves. I came from a place where the price of arrogance is death - nature makes no room for that, and humans have already suffered this natural judgment. The truth is that I stand as low as one possibly can, and I have to say there is a lot of room down here, both for movement and for learning.
I think this is enough for a bit, but before I forget, I think I need to make something clear: as far as relationships go, I'm single and open...but the connection I might have had with a soulmate, or even just a "mate" in general, has already been taken by the resonance I have with the world and all things. This is a psychic connection and non-romantic in nature, and one thing I will never budge on, because it's the reason for my well-being now. I honestly love the idea of a companion and mate, and I'd want them and their feelings to be part of this connection as well. I can't stand the idea of infidelity or the pain it would cause to a partner (should be obvious, right?), and I'd rather get t know someone and bond with them as friends first instead of just jumping into a relationship. I'm still developing in this area, and the least I could do is do it the right way, yeah? For anyone who's curious: yes, I am a virgin at 28, and no, I'm not the least bit ashamed of that.
However, I will not - I repeat, WILL NOT - forsake everyone and everyone just for one person. I stand to lose everything in doing so, and no matter how odd or ridiculous it may sound to others, I could lose my life in the process.
And now, it's time for me to sleep, so good night, everyone. I know this was a lot to take in, but just know that I'm here to spread joy and positive energy, and to reach out and connect with others. Hope to make friends here soon~!...... |
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