Tell me your life story.

[moches]

Re: Tell me your life story.

not gonna lie, the line for abuse is hard for me to define as well because it's shifted so much over the years. I absolutely think what I used to go through was abuse--to say my dad was an authoritarian run amok would be the charitable definition. but the thing is that my mom brought up the old memories in front of him a few weeks ago, and he didn't remember any of it. it genuinely pained him to recall the things he had done to our family when we were still young, so much that he had to forget about them. that, and he's really mellowed out over the years and i have no idea what to do because things haven't ever been this good and it feels like at some point it's just best to forgive.

some parents grow up with their kids, as it turns out.

but that's me and I'm not going to begrudge Dossar or anybody else for holding on to those memories. abuse is serious. it leaves permanent scars on people's souls that hurt them for the rest of their lives and that should always be taken into consideration.

[MarioNintendo]

Re: Tell me your life story.

I'm intrigued that you would think of it as a destructive feeling. It's a weird way to want to, perhaps, "fit in." I don't think anybody who has posted about what you call a "big enough pain" from their life was truly searching for that pain. Unfortunately, shit happens.

I can understand the feeling of isolation though. As I said in response to Choof's story, I had never experienced thoughts of suicide or had any desire to hurt myself, so I couldn't relate to how he must feel after enduring that stuff and then encountering the happiest time of his life. I can, fortunately, relate to being happy, so I've chosen to connect and rejoice in the "I love life" sense -- no wishing for bigger, badder pains is necessary.

Oh no I'm not wishing to suffer as much as some other people in this thread. Far from it. What I mean is that I know I have to express those feelings I have inside of me to make them disappear inside of growing in me, but I feel bad about it because the only way to do it seems to be when I'm around people who suffer more then me, which makes me see myself as a complaintive bastard, and I assume the others would see me that way as well. That's why I say destructive: more than a few times, I shut my mouth when I really needed to talk because I felt like I didn't have the "right" to complain to the listener, since he would've gone through much worse than me.

It's retarded, but it's always there.

[smartdude1212]

Re: Tell me your life story.

That's when you have to step back and try not to rate the experiences of those you claim have suffered more than you in terms of "how much they've suffered." Drawing this comparison in order to determine if you're going to speak about what's on your mind is something that I feel should generally be avoided -- especially if it's a case of "well I only had this 'minor' thing happen to me and my friend successfully dealt with this 'significantly larger' issue so I should be able to confide in that friend," or "well, that person has divulged all the really fucked up stuff about their life to me, so I won't bother trying to get them to understand this matter of mine right now." In my experience, if two people bring their different feelings and issues to the table and openly, thoroughly discuss them, they form a deeper connection -- and then they usually feel better after the conversation, because they've expounded what was previously festering from within.

I used to be bad for this whole comparing thing though, because I've got a naturally competitive nature. If someone told a particular story, I tended to try surmounting that with a more extreme story of my own. Not only does this lead to a certain enmity between individuals ("Oh yeah? Well THIS happened to me..."), but it's also a catalyst for exaggeration ("And then my mother hoisted me over a fiery pit of dragons..."). It's just better to maintain authenticity and speak your mind, regardless of any rating system you choose to employ.

(Entirely unrelated PS: next time I'm in Montréal we should meet up because I fucking love that city. *_*)

[Reincarnate]

Re: Tell me your life story.

There's always someone out there who has it worse -- doesn't make your grievances any less valid.

[SCWolf]

Re: Tell me your life story.

Well, there were parts of my life that I'm still really uncomfortable talking about, but I'll try my best here.

Born in 1993 to a pretty much finished marriage between my mother and father. My father used to be somewhat abusive according to my mother. My mother divorced my father after coming out that she was gay, and then she's been with the same partner ever since (they both raised me).

We were really poor when I was younger and we rarely could afford material things. When we could, it was really something special because it felt like Christmas. I grew up pretty much on hand-me-downs and tried to enjoy the little things in life as much as I could. Looking back, I'm grateful for the mother I have, and even her partner (who I hardly get along with, let alone talk to). They both did a great job raising me to understand worth in material things and in people.

Every other weekend, I would visit my father. My father is a good man, but with a terribly shitty upbringing and some pretty awful family members. His mother was almost jailed for threatening to either kill someone, or burn down a hospital, I can't quite remember which one is was. Maybe it was both. My dad did the best he could with my sister and I, but it was clear that his upbringing was the reason behind some poor choices with how he raised my sister and I. When he re-married, he adopted my step-sister, who is the daughter of my step mother. They also had a child together when I was about 5 years old. From that point on, everything he did and the choices he made became smarter and it seemed as if he was finally starting to grow up. My step-sister and half-sister live pretty good lives with my father and step-mother.

The times that I did visit my father were ok. My dad and I share a lot in common in terms of sense of humor and just general interest in video games and electronics. If it wasn't for my father, I may not be as absorbed by computers and technology as I am today. I couldn't be happier with the path I've taken in life. I've lived a clean and sober life and I think a lot of that can be credited to even this game, and the friends I made playing it (Kommisar, SCL, Rokogu, etc). Looking back, I'm surpised Kommi and his friends hung out with me because I was a little piss ass when I was a kid. I was so stupid, and I did the stupidest things. I'm grateful for the friends I've made though, and without them I don't know if I would have stayed straight edge.

Anyway, back on track. The end of that last paragraph was getting ahead of itself.

When I started school, I immediately realized that I was a bit different from other kids. I was incredibly hyper-active and it was uncontrollable. I was climbing over desks, walking around constantly without permission, and just generally really energetic for no reason whatsoever. It had gotten to the point where my teachers had to confront my mother about it and next thing I know, I'm at the doctor. My family doctor refused to diagnose me with ADHD because he was well aware that ADHD is thrown around in the medical world like it's no ones business. People are diagnosed all the time when in reality, they didn't have it. To save some time here, I'll just say that eventually by grade 5, I was finally medicated. I think partially because I started getting into trouble. I used to fight some kid daily, and things were getting out of hand. I started taking Ritalin in grade 5. It didn't go well. I shook uncontrollably and within I believe a week, I was taken off the drug. I then started taking different drugs to find out which ones actually worked. I really don't remember much about the drugs in between the next two, but they obviously didn't work. By grade 8, I was switched to a drug called Concerta. It was the worst experience of my life. I couldn't get an erection, I couldn't control my anger, I was never hungry, I was a complete wreck. While on Concerta, I actually broke my knuckle in a fight. I was reading a piece of paper and my buddy took it away from me, it put me into a fit of rage and I punched him in the head repeatedly until my knuckle broke. It was a rough time for me. I remember being a complete wreck because the broken knuckle put my right hand in a cast that went to my elbow for I think a month or 2. I couldn't do really anything.

I'm choosing to leave out certain things that lead to anger management among other things because they were pretty pointless, and I outgrew most of these things. I think a lot of these personality problems were due to a lot of drug trial and error.

Around the same time I started taking Concerta, I had my first panic attack. I had no idea what was wrong, and I was terrified. My sister has really bad anxiety and panic attacks, so my mothers main focus was on her. I was left on my own for a while trying to figure out what was wrong with me, and why I was always so paranoid and scared for no reason. Things like death and murder would always terrify me, like a little thought in the back of my mind would always say that I could end up that way, doing bad things or having bad things happen to me and it scared me because I didn't know why I was thinking this way. I was paranoid. I was paranoid of everything that scared me, and I had no help. I remember just wanting to end my life because every day I would wake up panicked. I would wake up scared of these things and I had no idea how to make it stop. It was every day for 2 years.

I was un-medicated for the first year of grade 9. Grade 9 was a year where I just went to school and went home. I hung out with no one. I went home and played video games. It was my escape from the anxiety and paranoia, because when I was playing games, my mind was always occupied. In that year, because I was constantly on the computer, I ended up finally searching the internet for my symptoms. Terrible thing to do. It took me to the end of grade 9 to really narrow down what the problem was. In that one year of searching and reading, I learned a lot about the human brain. I learned a lot about about everything. I found myself reading everything I could to find answers to any and all questions I had about myself that I was unable to get from psychologists (partly because when I went to the psychologist, I was in grade 8 and I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling, or even say it because it was so deranged and I didn't want to sound crazy. I thought I was.) or my mother or father.

Grade 10 was the year I finally thought I had an answer for my family doctor. I told her was I was feeling and that I thought it was anxiety. She prescribed me with a medication for ADHD that actually treated anxiety, OCD and paranoia. These things are apparently often seen together with ADHD, so a medication was eventually made to treat them. This medication was called Strattera. For the first time in 2 years, I felt like a normal human being again. Things were looking up.

Later that year, the unreal acne struck. It was cystic, and it was bad. I remember talking to Reach about it, as he was a fellow acne victim. After about a year on different topical creams and pills that didn't really do the trick, I finally popped the question that I'd be waiting to ask and had been talking to Reach about for a while. In the summer after grade 10, I started my first cycle of Accutane. My face cleared up. I felt great. I had more confidence, I was more optimistic and my anxiety was being treated pretty well. I was still having panic attacks here and there, but for the most part, all was well.

In grade 12, I took my second cycle of Accutane. My acne was relentless. Also the summer after grade 12 I banged a really attractive girl that I'd had a crush on for a long time, and it was great. I was terrible and it was great. I was actually impotent because of the Strattera, but I hadn't noticed that side effect before because I was so optimistic about life not being absolute shit that my lack of prolonged erections were the least of my worries. After we banged, she told me she loved me. I was kind of happy about that. Then within 2 days she'd stopped speaking to me completely. This caused me to feel like absolute shit, and lead to depression and just overall feeling bad about myself.

Shortly after, I came off my Strattera because I felt as if I could control myself better now that I'd aged. It was hard coming off the drug that I'd been on for a couple years, but once I was off, I felt good. The anxiety came back, and I was put on a newer drug called Mirtazapine. It works well. I'm on a relatively low dose and I'm still using it today.

Back to her breaking my heart, I ended up starting the gym in 2012 to help boost my self-esteem. I blew up. I gained 40lbs in the last year and I had girls messaging me left and right. Funny story, I actually sent a girl a picture of a hamburger and she asked me to sleep with her. I got a lot of female attention. Girls just straight up asking me to hang out, one being the the girl who broke my heart. Told her to fuck off, and now she's pregnant so I'm pretty sure that means I win.

In the first year of working out, I was literally sick to my stomach on a daily basis. I had no idea why. I ate close to nothing before, so everything I ate was a process of elimination to figure out what was making me sick. I was only 12 months later that I finally found out I am lactose intolerant, and since then, it's been going well. I'm glad because I have a pretty bad phobia of vomit.

Anyway, that's a quick summary of my life. I've been through some shit, but I've always pushed through the best I could. I left out a lot of stuff for the purpose of keeping this as short as I could.

Thanks for giving me the chance to get this all off my chest FFR community. This website played a huge part in contributing to who I am today.

[kommisar]

Re: Tell me your life story.

amen to that man.


our itg group's philosophy still stands today. we need to chill again soon.

[SCWolf]

Re: Tell me your life story.

amen to that man.


our itg group's philosophy still stands today. we need to chill again soon.

Yeah! I think when I finally get my license it will be a lot easier to get around and see you guys, but before that I can easily find a way on a day off to chill. I'll facebook message you when I have a couple days off and junk.

[MarioNintendo]

Re: Tell me your life story.

That's when you have to step back and try not to rate the experiences of those you claim have suffered more than you in terms of "how much they've suffered." Drawing this comparison in order to determine if you're going to speak about what's on your mind is something that I feel should generally be avoided -- especially if it's a case of "well I only had this 'minor' thing happen to me and my friend successfully dealt with this 'significantly larger' issue so I should be able to confide in that friend," or "well, that person has divulged all the really fucked up stuff about their life to me, so I won't bother trying to get them to understand this matter of mine right now." In my experience, if two people bring their different feelings and issues to the table and openly, thoroughly discuss them, they form a deeper connection -- and then they usually feel better after the conversation, because they've expounded what was previously festering from within.

I used to be bad for this whole comparing thing though, because I've got a naturally competitive nature. If someone told a particular story, I tended to try surmounting that with a more extreme story of my own. Not only does this lead to a certain enmity between individuals ("Oh yeah? Well THIS happened to me..."), but it's also a catalyst for exaggeration ("And then my mother hoisted me over a fiery pit of dragons..."). It's just better to maintain authenticity and speak your mind, regardless of any rating system you choose to employ.

(Entirely unrelated PS: next time I'm in Montréal we should meet up because I fucking love that city. *_*)

Thanks smartdude. And we should meet!

[Spenner]

Re: Tell me your life story.

This had been a REALLY interesting thread, and I've read or at least skimmed through everyone's story. You're all wonderfully diverse folk

I don't think I've ever posted my life story EVER so this is going to be weird, and nostalgic for me. My childhood and growing up never really had to do so much with the "things" that went on, but it was more with understanding them, and learning to bond with my emotions. Anyhoo,

____________________________________

I was born Sept 13, 1992, after being conceived on the bed which has currently been passed down to me which I now sleep in (fukken awkward but w/e ).

I am lucky to be in the arms of parents who wished to document everything. If I were to break out every Polaroid photo ever taken of me, in order of sequence down a hallway, that would probably do my life story justice in itself. Everything video taped, everything. It became a normal thing to feel unintimidated by a camera, because I somehow felt that it was a joy to capture a moment that, given a blink of the eye, will be totally changed. Still to this day do I have that passion for capturing the present.

A few months after my second birthday, my brother Hayden was born. He cried a lot. We became very close because of similar interests in pretending to build scenarios out of toys (like most everyone).

At around the age of 3 I was a curious explorer. Too much, sometimes, and ending up in places I shouldn't be. At my early age of 3, I'd accidentally fallen in front of someone about to swing a golf club (a neighbor, Johnny, who had a netted driving range in his backyard). I remember being treated as if it was a minor bump on the head, despite distinctly remembering blacking out. There is a dent in the side of my head, which goes in a few millimeters, which I believe was given at that moment.

Further around that age I'd been keeping a jar of sea monkeys, which were interesting critters, always making me question their aliveness because of how they were born from a dry powder. By this time also I was really avidly playing with K'nex, and Lego. I would spend half my day, every day, building surreal structures and pretending to have deep plots carrying on in them. It was my favourite thing to do. One morning, I had my sea monkeys on the edge of a white oven, and my mom had walked in with groceries. One of the bags bumped the tank, and soon the floor became a thin puddle grave for my little friends.

Traumatized, naturally, (I'd grown really close to these things), while my brother mindlessly crawled around in the living room, my mother scooped Hayden and I up and we went to the pet store. Around the rabbit cages, there was one in particular who immediately came up to greet us, and nibbled at the edge of the cage. This was the first memory I have of Hopper, and he changed very little in the long years ahead. (I've covered Hopper's life story in a thread before so I don't need to get into it : > ).

Honestly, from ages 6-9 or so, my life is quite a blur. I stopped having such an avid curiosity, and I was more worried with bonding with social standards. In this phase I seemed to fall further away from my sense of identity, which in my early years, I seemed to creep closer towards due to intense thought experiments I would have. Something that triggered these was the show Dragon Ball Z. Any boy at that age could probably relate; wishing they could ka-me-ha-me-ha. My neighbor, Ben, also liked to think that he could harness the powers like they did in the show, so we'd play along all the time, beating each other half to death all in good fun.

My friendship with Ben carries the closest memories I have from the ages of about 5-9. It was at his house that I had my first view of video games. I watched him play overtime, from start to finish, MANY games, which gave me a lot of nostalgia later on. Donkey Kong Country 1 and 2, Final Fantasy 7, Doom, Mario Kart, Yoshis island, etc. Eating dinner at Ben's house was always strange to me, because we would say grace. I never really understood what it was, or what to do during it. Ben tried to explain it to me but he realized he hadn't really been able to see all sides of it either.

My Aunt's family, my dad's sister, moved into the house across the street from us. This was still when I was about 5 or 6 (sorry that this is jumping around a lot). My relationship with Ben was similar with Trevor, only with Trevor there was a lot more childish play. It's a very embarrassing fact, but when I first discovered masturbation, I explained it to Trevor, and urged him to try it >____> fuck that.

Hell, I told my PARENTS what it was, even did it once while sleeping in the same bed as them. UGH WHY. I remember my dad's response when I told him "Hey dad this feels good you should try it!", it went something like "Oh. That's. Something. Later in life. We need to go to bed. Go to sleep." fuck.

Aaaand naturally from an early age I had a fascination for finding what things felt the best to get off to. My mom being a hairstylist, had magazines with plenty of scantily clad ladies filling the pages. I had some of them in the bathroom with me once, my mom seeing me come out of the bathroom with it. "Why do you have one of my magazines in there?" "Seeing what kind of hairstyles there are... maybe you can try something different from in this magazine". I was always somewhat good at lying, clearly, because I know she bought it. I knew it was wrong, what I was doing, and I think I realized I needed to not share this shit anymore.

In my school years from grades 1-3, I had a strong group of friends. Dakota, Rice, Chris, Dennis, Ian, are all people I remember clearly. Chris was the "leader" figure of our posse, generally because he had the best set of pokemon cards. We had an elaborate system going, controlling "THE TRADE" of the school-- what's the matter, never allowed money from your parents to buy chips at the machine? Never tried Dill Pickle? I see you have a Charizard... that will do just fine... I fell into the trap. My deck wittled down to a few shitty cards, but my stomach was full of delicious junk food. A good life lesson that can be projected to the actual slums of the city; don't trade your good shit for junk that gives you a temporary lift.

For 4th grade, I moved to a different city. I'd never moved in my life, and it was a strange experience. Far before we moved into the house, we would periodically visit to see it being built. It looked nothing like a house until the last few weeks of building. I had a dirtbike I'd play with in the muddy yard, and I would always love plunging off the high hills of mud into the pit of softer mud below.

I started 4th grade, and I longed for my friends back at the other school. I haven't been in contact with any of them since, either. I didn't really develop any friends right away in the new school, I was a bit awkward, and a bit strange. I was always too full of social anxiety to focus on who I was, and what I could do to make a friend, or to even focus on learning. I wanted to be able to socialize.

After the 4th grade Shakespeare play Twelfth Night, where I played a pillow bellied Sir Toby Belch, I developed a friendship with Sean. The earliest memory I have of him is seeing his wrist bleeding all over the floor, after he slipped when trying to cut a piece of construction paper. I also met a few other friends I would grow close to, and become some of my main friends through public school, Austin and Nick.

5th grade was more of the same, but I developed a bit more of a bond. There was a girl who I had a huge crush on, and I forget her name. I could just sense that she was a kind person, and goddess looking. I probably talked to her twice ever, I never did anything but spend my time fantasizing about a decent conversation with her. Also in 5th grade, while waiting to be picked up for a pig roast at my Uncle Brian's house at Austin's swingset, I stumbled off, and landed with my hand hitting a part of the ground with a large stone underneath, and it forced my elbow out of it's socket, and broke my arm aswell. I'd have 3 surgeries from grade 5-7 to fix this nasty problem of it consistently falling back out of place, eventually needing synthetics to be put into the scraped away portion of the joint to hold it in place. Now I can't bend my arm towards my shoulder past 90 degrees, and I have no rotational movement with my wrist. Wooo~

6th grade was where I started getting a bit closer to people. My artistic drive was really starting to show, though I had taken a liking to drawing things to be as violent as possible. Headless walking figures with bone-exposed legs, zombies with floating heads, still connected by a few veins and arteries. Heads being chopped in half, etc. I found the perfect place to mingle with likeminded folk on the message board Madness Combat.com, where other kids like me talked about how cool the Madness Combat cartoon was when the blood shows hurr hurr hurr.

Madness Combat became some of the people I grew closest to. They criticized me, argued with me, and sometimes hated me, but that strengthened me as a person. I entered the harsh world of internet bullying, and learning ways to counteract it, and push through it. There was a different message board, MadnessCombat.NET, which was the more mature, scarier message board, which I would eventually be forced to as MadnessCombat.com closed it's doors. I still post on this message board, despite one of it's members, Fleek, finding a way to nuke the entire board maybe 7 times thus far (yet is still regarded as one of the most notable members, positively).

Grade 6 is also where I met a friend I felt genuinely close to for the first time in a long time, Adam, AKA MrPopadopalis25. I remember the first exchanged words, as I was drawing a picture of Samus, facing frontwards, (something I wanted to attempt but felt the perspective was difficult): "Hey, you like Metroid too?" "Yeah, it's cool" or something along those lines. With Adam, we went on to make many fantastic movies with his camcorder such as "Stupid Videos", "The Jar Woods", and tons of others. Some of which we'd show in class during lunch. We'd also show VHS tapes of him or I playing video games, no dialogue or anything, just the video of the gameplay, for the whole room to see. Even Donkey Konga, where you can get absolutely NOTHING out of watching without seeing the person playing, we'd watch. Good stuff.

One of the more impressive bonds I've found with Adam is our musical taste. He'd introduced me to Aphex Twin and Boards of Canada, which really set the stage for a lot of things, including trying to understand my emotional responses to music, why I feel nostalgia when listening to Boards, and many things of the sort.

Grades 7 and 8 had nothing too special, other than my growing interest of science, finding it really cool how there's "stuff" that we can't see, which I learned in chemistry class from my teacher Mr. T. Around this time I had another crush, Danielle G, which I never pursued.


Highschool was a weird transition. From grades 9 to 10 it felt awesome, the freedom shift was immense, but there was more responsibility. I failed HARD in grade 9 math, mostly because of a shitty teacher (this is reinforced by the fact that i had an 89% in the next year with more difficult concepts with a much better teacher). I became closer to Sean, whereas I hadn't really had as strong of a friendship with him in public school. He became experimental with drugs and was doing chew tobacco, which I thought was stupid, but I didn't hold it against him.

There were some acquaintances, Darcy Connor and Roc, which were more Adam's friends, I was just sort of "there" all the time with them. It was very entertaining watching them taunt the janitors, though reflecting on it, they were mean as fuk. Undeniably hilarious things happened with them though.

At the end of grade 10, start of grade 11, I'd been talking to someone through MSN and somewhat in person that I liked. Michaela was ginger, and I thought that was a really attractive quality, and because she seemed really relaxed and nice. We had a lot of intense conversations over the summer, never did we hang out in person though. This really was the downfall of our friendship, I find. I didn't know how to interact so well in person with her, only online did I feel free to say whatever I needed to say.

I asked her out, and we went out for a few months, I was really in love with her. For the first time I felt LOVE, and it was incredible, but it was also incredibly unstable, and I realized the dangers of it. The feelings were so intense that I couldn't handle interacting in front of her, I was stone silent. I couldn't communicate, all I could do was drool and be in love. The thought of losing her made me anxiety levels through the roof, so I was always in a state of worry, thinking that if I say the wrong thing, that could be it. I spent the last bit of our relationship entirely afraid, and it was inevitable for it to end. It came to a sour, and cold ending. She really disliked what happened to me, and I totally understood. I couldn't handle how that happened to me, and how I had no way to control it.

Around these times were the most introverted moments of my life, where I would be totally disconnected from the world around me, filled only with depression, and fantasy. There was nothing on my mind that was of the real world. I was totally disconnected from learning in school, I grew more antisocial, and I couldn't communicate as well with my friends. I was mindful of it happening, yet I couldn't change it, and it was a painful experience.

The depression was so crippling, constantly there, constantly squeezing my body; I wasn't even ever sad per se, sadness is a more specific emotion, it was just such intense dysphoria that nothing felt real. I felt like i needed to pursue the feeling of nothing being real in order to numb out the depression. I involuntarily fell into meditative routines, where I'd fall far, far away from myself. I'd be in a state of ego loss, and at the deepest meditative point I could reach, it only felt necessary. This would soon become a part of my mental architecture, the ability to disconnect, the impulse to go 3rd person, and developed into a depersonalization disorder.

Depersonalization led to many bizarre fascinations and worries. I started going through an existential crisis, fearing what might happen to the mind if it were to be out of my control, thinking of how it would be if I had to interact with Michaela again. Speaking of her, after the breakup, it would be an entire two years until I would not say one word to her. Solid silence. It was the hardest thing I could do, all I wanted was to apologize, to let her know that I felt bad for what happened. I knew I'd already said enough, the rest was just going to be bothersome.

Grade 12 came, and I was a bit more stable. I'd learned to reprogram myself. In my deepest meditative state I could FEEL my brain's mapping of the association of Michaela. I immediately would force my brain to place "M" instead of her full name there. I would practice poking at myself mentally; imagine a picture of her being happy, with me, then before the emotional response to the mental imagery appears, think of smoke, ripped paper, ice cream, sunsets, rain, trees, everything else. Erase her. I did this day after day, constantly bombarding myself with reassociations with every aspect of her in my life.

If you've ever watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind, well, that movie really fukken speaks to me. I did that very thing to myself, because I had to. Just like in the movie, it was a necessary thing to do. I could not function, and I don't know where I'd be right now if I still had that obsessive framework in my mind. My mindfulness became my most powerful tool. I had mapped out the process of a mental image, how it leeches to other associations, and how those things reach out to emotional associations, and how they all connect to form the whole experience of the memory, or imagination.

This intense visualization of the most abstract kind led me to elaborate on other things that have an emotional map. Music is the most profound of this sort, and I grew to eventually interpret this as synesthesia. I don't feel like this label totally holds true all the time, even though I can read sounds as visual representations as seamless as visual words on paper project into sounds in the mind, it just feels natural. Not simple shapes either, these are explosive, electric, alive and organic images that visually explain all details of both the music, and my emotional connections to them.

This was the main topic of all of my art that I would start drawing during my spares in Grade 12. Some of them can be seen here:

http://thespenner.deviantart.com/gallery/27056378

The ones at the bottom of the page are the earlier drawings, which are more abstract, and convey more of the complex imagery that I could read like a book. I still can, today, look at these images and my mind fills itself with the infinite detail that once was birthed to give representation to them.

Through college, I grew better at maintaining control of my mind in this way. However, my existential fears returned, and I often mislabeled things in my mind for schizophrenic episodes. I always feared losing my mind, deep down.

Smoking weed is something that, at first, was the most psychedelic things I could dive into. It still is one of the most mentally riveting things that I can undergo, which leads to borderline delirium. While intense, and sometimes intensely anxious, sometimes with even panic attacks, smoking weed has been one of my most important teachers. To learn to battle that anxiety, I have to confront them first. In grade 12 when I tried my first MASSIVE amount of THC in a brownie, I had my first experience with a panic attack, though it persisted for hours. It also, in a way, carved a pathway in my mind mapping to make it possible to happen again. In the same way I would reprogram myself to associate things for M, I would do for the anxiety with weed. There was no inherent danger, therefore this anxiety is irrational.

My college years were spent deep in creative thought, for Graphic Design, and always coming out top of my grade, seemingly because of my difference in approaches, and my attention to detail. I really bonded with my classmates, for they were all creative types like me, and I felt like there was a bit of each of us that we could all relate. Being with the same people for all 3 years of college was a great experience.

Temporarily going back--- to you, FFR, my good friends. MrPopadopalis25 actually introduced me to FFR, and you've been a part of my life ever since. Even though I was never very good at the game (really difficult time with attention span, mind always drifting, etc), you've been there in so many ways.

Because of the site going offline, I was invited by Yael (CrazyKitty## on here, forget the exact name ) to the site iSketch.net. Here I'd meet some fantastic people, quite a few of whom I still talk to a lot. Because of iSketch, and FFR going down for a bit, I met Lindsey, the girl I've been dating and is probably the most compatible person that could ever be with me. I live in Ontario, Canada, and she lives in Missouri, USA. But we've made sacrifices to make it all work, and I'm there right now for my last visit this summer until christmas time.

Together with Lindsey I've developed a stronger artistic interest, and a better sense of inner peace, just by exposure to more things in life. More complex emotions have been tamed, more problematic questions have been resolved. It's been with her that I've ventured out into psychedelic substances, which have been undeniably some of the best moments I've lived.

One thing that's still persistent is insomnia; while mindfulness is a blessing to behold, it keeps me vividly aware of everything on my mind up until I simply pass out at night. That being said, feeling your mind tearing away peel by peel every night feels horrifying and sometimes ends in a panic attack, because my mind resorts to associating the feelings with dying. It's been a really difficult time trying to deal with this. So far Mirtazapine has helped, but it's side effects inhibit my ability to enjoy life basically (zombie mode), so I've been off it for awhile now. If I must, I'll take a piece of a tablet to help me. Doxylamine has been a good help in getting me to sleep, but in the end it all comes down to how i focus my mind as it starts it's process of shutting off temporarily. Hypnogogia (being in a state of pre-sleep, with hallucinations, both auditory and visual) are an everynight occurrance. It used to be so bad that i would spend all night, 6 hours perhaps, JUST in hypnogogia. It felt like I was experiencing one of the most demented psychotic episodes there could be, and get up in the morning feeling like shit. Luckily it's been better~

I was always afraid to try psychedelic substances because I thought it would transform me into something I didn't want to be; someone who put too much belief in fantasy, just because they'd witnessed something they BELIEVE to be one thing over another. None of that has ever happened, and I've only been exposed during the psychedelia to the realistic workings, and essence of the world. Physical laws are so noticeable, and the mechanics of life can be observed with more detail; it's just a nice way to validate anything you've been studying with the sciences. As well, it was a good way for me to realize that I'm probably wrong in having put so much commitment towards being anxious towards dying. Not because of anything supernatural, but because that's just how it is, and it's something that happens to everything. It's our label of it being such a horrible thing, but to think of it not as a person, but as an observer of life as a whole, death is just something that happens.

So I guess that's kind of where I'm at now. I still have mood swings of depression, and I still fall into deep pits, but I've also never been better. Life is looking promising, and to Lindsey, it looks anxious, but I aim to try all that I can to teach her the irrationality of that anxiety, and that the label of fear is anticipation not worth fantasizing about.

Thanks for the ranting space FFR I didn't cover everything, by a long shot, but this was a nice journey of reflection for me.

EDIT: Shoutouts to Carl Sagans Cosmos, and Matt/Combat from MadnessCombat.net.

EDIT: SCwolf, mirtazapine bro. It does work well, it allowed me to enjoy vast amounts of coffee with no anxious response~

[smartdude1212]

Re: Tell me your life story.

Great read, Spenner. All I have to say is I FUCKING LOVE iSKETCH and I think I played a fair amount of that when FFR was down too.

[TC_Halogen]

Re: Tell me your life story.

I've been working on my post for this but I've been doing it in pieces because I'm literally doing it like a timeline, haha. I'm up to 2,600 words and I haven't hit high school stuff yet, oops...?

[Spenner]

Re: Tell me your life story.

Yeah iSketch was an awesome community and it was so much fun to go to the free-draw rooms, where I got more acquainted with abstract artists like myself~ it was good fun.

I don't doubt it TC_Halogen, though I have to say I haven't touched on a lot of the things I probably should have, but didn't feel like this thread would be the best place to write my entire autobiography :P I think it would be a great idea to make an entire book of it one day, it's awesome to reflect back this much.

Also something notable that I didn't mention: on my dad's side, everyone is prone to cognitive diseases, and my grandparents are both suffering majorly, especially my grandmother, who is mindless at the moment. For preventative measures, I've been taking the neuroprotective supplement Noopept which has had a greatly positive impact on my life. Anyone struggling with memory problems and attention span should look into it, it might help. My uncle also has learning disabilities, bipolar depression such as I, and I KNOW my dad has bipolar even though he tries his best to hide it. Just knowing what could be in store down the line has made me be vigilant in seeing what i can do to prevent it @_@

[andy-o24]

Re: Tell me your life story.

Huge confession and secret inside. Basically what makes Andy, Andy. I've grown up with you guys and only my family and a couple really close friends know about it, so since I consider you all an extension of my family you deserve to have a chance of knowing.

The best place to start is birth I suppose, so I'll just jump right into that. I was born on March 25th of 1994 which makes me nineteen years old now. I was born in a hospital in Indianapolis, Indiana and lived in a one story home in Fishers, Indiana for a few years. The family and myself later moved to a two story home in Fishers which is still the place I call home today. The family and myself needed to move because as me and my two older siblings grew up, we would need a bigger house and I think the neighborhood we are in now, a nice cul-de-sac, is a better place for us to grow up in anyway.

My early life, the first, honestly many years, but I'll throw in some memories for the sake of having something to share, is a complete void in my memory. I can remember through stories that when I was born I had my hands over my genitals and the doctor thought that I was a girl at first. Of course, he had just delivered a two month premature baby before me, so he was probably still in shock. I remember my mother will tell the story and say that the doctor said I was a giant compared to the baby he had just delivered. And that follows. I was called "Moose" as a baby because I was rather chubby, and I kept that weight for quite a while.

Ages one and two don't have any cool events that I can remember, but I can remember at age three and change being in my parents bedroom asking them how old I was. They said, I think anyway, that I was three-and-a-half and a quarter. I remember running through the house yelling that I was three-and-a-half and a quarter so anyone within earshot could hear me.

Around age four and five was when I the siblings and I would "blow some stink off" as our mom would always say outside. This led to a few mishaps and some pretty good memories. I can remember for years playing street hockey outside in our cul-de-sac with anyone on Barnett Place who wanted to come down to the circle at the end of it. I remember running through sprinklers and having water gun fights and playing all kinds of casual sports outside and around the yard. I remember most of our neighbors, though not necessarily by name. I remember one kid two houses down from us would regularly tell my brother "I'm no your friend anymore, Kevin!" with his funny accent, or speech impediment.

But I mentioned mishaps too, so I cannot forget to mention those as well. It was around this time that all of the kids of the Fulkerson family were still immature and did silly things. I can remember riding in my red wagon, the same one that still resides in the corner of the garage, and my siblings were behind me running and pushing me so I could go fast. I am sure we had a goal in mind, but I do not remember what it was now. Anyway, I remember wanting to go home so when I got to our driveway, I turned the handle that steered the wagon and it spilled me into the street giving me some massive cuts on my knees. After some tears and a while with bandages on my knees, they healed up and left some nice scars.

Another one was back in the Summer time when we were playing outside at night, or at least in the evening before it got too dark. The kids all had to have bug spray, or bug repellent on themselves to stay outside. Well, I especially needed it, because to this day when get a mosquito bite, it swells up massively. So, I'm on the deck in our backyard and my sister is applying the misty bug spray, and she tells me to close my eyes because it was time to spray my face. As I recall, she sprayed me and then paused, so I opened my eyes and when I did she sprayed some in my eyes. This burned like all hell, and I had to open my eyes under the full-blast flowing water from the kitchen sink. No hard feelings toward her, it was partially my fault.

There was also a time when I went on the roof to retrieve toys, a time I got caught on top of a wooden fence, a time I fell off the monkey bars and had the wind knocked out of me, a lot of little painful memories from being a dumb little kid. But I would not trade them for anything.

So, now I start school, and that runs it course pretty normally. However, when I hit fourth grade, my life changed dramatically.

In the lunch room of my elementary school, maybe ten minutes from my house walking, there are long rectangular tables with seats on both sides and where you sit at the table is directly related to your position in the lunch line. Well, I brought my lunch that day, so I was one of the first kids to sit at that table. So, the table fills and as it turns out, Colin (Yes, I'm using first names) is sitting on the other side of the table from me, three seats away, so diagonal from me. Well, Jenna is I think directly diagonal from me on the other side of the table. So, me being the stupid fourth grader that I am, I am making jokes which probably do not make much sense. Anyway, I'm talking to Colin, and I say, "If you were to ask Jill out you would say, 'Jill do you want to...uh...uh...can I suck your boobs?" to which Colin replies, "No, that's what you do with Jenna." If you followed the table lineup, Jenna was between Colin and I, so she clearly heard this.

And she acted on it. She told maybe a teacher, perhaps went straight to the principle, I'm not sure. What I do know is that shortly thereafter, I find myself sitting in the principal's office. Ms. Bragg, and old woman, stout if I recall correctly, and very intimidating to young kids. Anyway, she is on one side of her desk and I am on the other and she is lecturing me about the situation. In one instance she points to a poster behind her desk and asks, "Which of these character traits did you exhibit?" I am looking off into the distance trying to make the situation go away, but I realize nothing is going to work, so I start reading the poster. I get to honestly, and I suggest that was one I showed. "After I had to pull it out of you?" said Ms. Bragg. So, I then realize the answer she wants. I said then, "None of them." And that was satisfactory for her.

I distinctly remember her calling in Colin and he sat down in the chair next to me and immediately started to cry. She quickly dismissed him. At this point, some unknown amount of time into this horrible moment in time, I have yet to cry. Bragg makes me write a letter home to my parents telling them what I did while she, I assume, called home to tell them herself. This is when the tears started to flow. I distinctly remember sitting at that desk writing that letter and one tear rolling down to the tip of my nose and falling off, making a mark on the paper I was writing my death sentence on. She called what I had done "Sexual Harassment." That is what I consider it to this day, even though at this point, I just laugh about the whole situation.

So, from the remainder of fourth grade until Junior year of high school, I kept almost completely to myself. I didn't speak much, I think my volume in turn was lowered. My confidence was pretty much shot, and my self esteem in the tank. But even through all that, I still remained pretty much the same Andy you guys have come to kinda know but mostly ignore. I didn't self harm, I didn't become rebellious. I just stayed in line and tried not to say anything to harm myself or others.

As Junior year approached and Kevin was no longer in school with me, I started to come out of that antisocial shell I had built and secluded myself behind. I started making crude jokes and talking to people. I never really hung out, because I never really made friends, but I was at least talking. I was socializing at in school at least and that was a pretty big step for me.

Senior year rolls around and I'm basically out of the shell completely. I still remain quite just out of courtesy and still as a form of protection from myself. Some of the things that I would say if I spoke my mind entirely the world just is not ready for.

Now I'm in college and it is bearable. I'm studying accounting and there is not much else to say about that.

I'm sure I've forgotten some stuff that might be of interest to some of you. Some of those quotes are not exact, others are, but that was the gist of what was said. If you have any questions about what happened, anything you want to know about me at all, feel free to ask. I will answer as well as possible.

-o24

[DossarLX ODI]

Re: Tell me your life story.

I've always wanted to get to know users on this site and this thread has some amazing reads. I still have to get to SCWolf and Spenner, but I personally like to see everyone as unique individuals rather than just "users on a site".

Also I saw there was some discussion about my story earlier concerning my family. It's important to note the context of when I mentioned my thoughts about killing my parents etc. that was back when I was a little kid, before high school. It's not like that anymore now -- and going to the "revenge" thing, the only thing I would consider actual "revenge" against my parents is for them to self-reflect and reconsider how they behave. There are plenty of other things my father has done that I haven't listed because I don't glorify humiliation like the media does. Like I mentioned, what really gets to me is the lack of diplomacy. I'm willing to move on from the past but I can't discuss these problems with my parents without them going ballistic. My family actually was broke a few weeks ago from how poorly my father managed money.

Think of it this way:

A grumpy old man who yells and interrupts in an attempt to make you look stupid even if you're mentioning legitimate points, is bad with handling money, but also has money.

Now do this:

A grumpy old man who yells and interrupts in an attempt to make you look stupid even if you're mentioning legitimate points, is bad with handling money, but also has money.

The only redeeming quality about my family is having some money. That's it. If my parents bought me an expensive car I would be offended -- I *rarely* buy anything at all, and I would know they purposely did it so they could say "we spent so much money on this car!" All I'd need is a car that does the job, has decent mileage, and if necessary a simple paint job. I don't need a fancy car. If anything, half that money could have been used to buy an ITG dedicab but of course my parents would think an expensive car is more important than something I would actually use frequently and is in my interests.

I would also like to mention the "someone always has it worse" comment. Every time I hear this I want to puke. Just the thought of someone arguing over starvation being worse than having your arm cut off, that abuse isn't bad because someone else got their legs blown off in war, just sickens the living shit out of me. It's dehumanizing.

[top]

Re: Tell me your life story.

I probably should have, but didn't feel like this thread would be the best place to write my entire autobiography :P

that's the whole point of this thread.