(no subject)

[annathyst]

The last time I was happy was when I was five years old in kindergarten. Twelve years ago.
I had friends who were close to me, I had kind teachers, I had no homework, I even had the brand new playground which the synagogue had just erected that year. Above all, both caused by and in addition to this, I was happy. Deep-down happy. I laughed, I sang, I jumped, and I was creative. Terrible crap I turned out, but I was making new things.
Then first grade happened. I was at a different school from almost all of my friends, and for reasons I still question, everyone took an immediate disliking to me. My remaining friends abandoned me without warning, completely out of the blue, and everyone - including many of the teachers and staff - went out of their way to ignore me or belittle me or make me feel worse.
Iterate this until my freshman year in highschool. For years, I had no one to really talk to, to play with, to laugh with, to just...be with without wrorying about watching my back. I was never especially close to my parents in the first place, and as the years wore on, the habit of just telling them that everything was fine became a reflex. I lived in my room, in the school bus, in the halls and classrooms of elementary and middle schools, alone. My friends were the books upon my shelves, wondrous stories of adventure on other planets in other galaxies, or in other times, but elsewhere. Places where the heroes banded together against adversary, and where the bad guys were destroyed in a clean flash of laser fire in the end, and where people weren't denied their humanity - for, in their continued either negation of my existence or belittling it, this is what my tormenters did. During the time when the child is supposed to learn how to become a social animal, I became an asocial one.
High school brought both one good thing - my friend Alex, and his friend Dave, who I am very close to - and many worse things. The viciousness of my treatment increased by a hundredfold, and there was naught that I could do. The administration disliked me, for I didn't get stellar grades or play on sports teams, and, this being a private school, therefore did not make the school look good and bring in the money. Furthermore, I just didn't fit in. I was a flaw in their pattern, and when the opportunity to wipe that flaw out came, they did, mid-sophomore year.
The rest of that year, at another school, was unremarkable. While I didn't suffer any worse, as the people at the other school were almost uniformly accepting and kind, it was too late for this to have any effect. I got accepted into SRC, I've been taking classes which interest me and being around some great people who I'm honored to call my friends, but the damage is already done.
I stand before you a hollow and grey shell of what might have been a boy-child once, one to whom the idea of emotions as more than shades of color on the slippery surface which slide off as soon as their pretense is no longer needed is foreign, one who feels no pleasure save intellectual pleasure, no contentness short of that gained from solving a problem, and one who, to the extent that he feels anything, feels only an eternal yawning emptiness. grey, grey, such goddamn grey emptiness. One who feels no thing, and is no thing, who hasn't brought anything new into the world in years, and who is almost that which is not. One who is entirely disconnected from those around him, as much as he wishes otherwise and as much as he tries otherwise.
I'm not asking for textual hugs and the like that any post about sad news is likely to bring - real hugs and kisses and caresses do little for me as is. If anything, I'm asking for help. To find a truly excellent shrink, or some drug, or something, anything, to fill that emptiness. To regerminate that which never grew. To give me that spark which is inherent in truly living in life.
To help me become human.
because I just can't TAKE it anymore.
numb.

Comments

[zztzed]

I can tell you this much: Drugs are not the answer.