Post
by Xanatos » Wed Jul 11, 2012 5:43 am
Approximately 21 years and 3 months ago, I was born...Three months too soon. Apparently, mother has a pattern going because after my younger brother was born okay, she eventually had a prematurely-born daughter who suffocated to death when she was nearing one year old. But I survived...Against all odds, I walked and talked...Age three (and again at 15), I had a surgery to extend my heelcord in the right leg. Age four, I was diagnosed with autism. Age five, I spent my very first words complaining to my physical therapist that my playdoh was the wrong kind of blue.
I can't remember what age school started but...That's where things went wrong. We lived, at various times, in different parts of Kentucky and Florida. Neither was any better than the other.
In Kentucky, I met people who saw only the defects, The shrunken, undeveloped limbs and the heavy limp. In Kentucky, I met people who disdained my autism-related flaws and slowness. I met people who hated me for these meaningless things I could never control. I met people who, while not hating me at first, grew to hate me because it was apparently the popular way. What few friends I might have gained - I only remember ever calling three people 'friends' who stayed that way - turned against me once people started taunting them for it. Many even made a game of pretending only to lure me into various traps. You know how on the TV, sometimes there's that unpopular character who gets a date over a dare, prank, or lost bet? Yeah...That can actually happen, it seems. A lot. And they never once even kept the charade going long enough to actually go through with it. Just long enough to fool me. Even my family wasn't that good about it...If they didn't seem indifferent, they seemed outright spiteful. My only solid memory of my sixth year of life is being chased by a mob of peers and pelted with rocks. My sibling led them. I do not say "brother" because brotherhood is about a bond, not mere blood...And we never had any such thing. Three years ago, I officially disowned him both for his part in my past and continued incompetence and selfishness in the present. I simply could not relate to such a tool. But I digress: Back to the early years...
In short order, I grew depressed...Angry...Bitter...Cold. Forcibly shunned by undue cruelty and later deliberately isolated to avoid the same. My hatred for people grew. My loathing turned inward to destroy me from within. Any ability to feel beyond a dull bitter resentment shriveled into nothing. My social abilities, obstructed as they already were by my conditions, eventually withered to far outdo my physical inability. To this day, they haven't been repaired...Only dressed up a bit. My other thread explains the ultimate result of that, my lack of connection to people. But then...
Age 13. I found the internet a few years back and rapidly grew to enjoy it. People could see nothing so they could judge nothing. Eventually (some years), the prospect of what they call "online dating" appeared and, lacking options but desperately needing companionship, I tried my hand...The first failed for strained schedules. The second failed for a volatile love-hate dynamic that was simply doing too much damage. The last failed, despite repeated attempts and a currently-maintained friendship, due to a mixture of time, distance that simply could not be closed, and (later) general incompatibility. Around that point, I came to accept that I would die alone. I had tried to fix my problems often...I had even tried going around my problems via the online medium...Both failed time and again. I know I will all-too-likely die by myself. But I have come to terms with that...Mostly. I don't have friends as such, more acquaintances...I don't go out...I live in my room most of the time. But I don't have a problem with these things.
I do not have a broken heart...But it is a heavily scabbed one. Mind you, I have come to terms with all of this and am very much fine with my ways and content in my life...But there are still scars and scars can be irritated. Time heals all wounds...But only just enough that the scar tissue can be irritated by a moment's misstep. "What if?" is a damnable question but it cannot be avoided. In a touch of irony, I don't think I'd have found this place if my life's circumstances were better. I don't think I would be as intuitive or understanding or individualistic or accepting or complex as I am had I not been on the fringes observing everything so very closely despite being so far from it all. But I also wouldn't be so cynical, jaded, mistrusting...Nonetheless. It is a very valuable perspective and one I would not trade away.
I do not believe in regret. To regret even the smallest event in your life is to regret all you have become as it is these events that shape us...And I regret nothing. I am at peace with my damages and my life and my solitude. And my scars. Of course, I still have bad nights. Days when the depression wells up, the wounds of years all ache in unison, and my thoughts dwell on terminating it all...Oh, do they dwell...But they never become real. I'm much too purely fearful of mortality...Not death, mind you. Mortality. It is on those nights that regret may surface...Those nights that I may hate my very birth...But those nights may be easier with some place to go.
<KeiichiO>: "I wonder what Misha's WAHAHA's sound like with a cock stuffed down her throat..."
<Ascension>: "I laughed, cried, vomited in my mouth a little, and even had time for marshmallows afterwards. Well played, Xanatos. Well played."
<KeiichiO>: "That's a beautiful response to chocolate."
Kaede <3
, I guess that's what I get for not checking this forum for a week. But I read through every post, I have nothing to comment, I want you to know that I read them.