Impulsive Compulsion Pt. 1

Back in the cruel, terrible world, the reality we all live in together, if there was such to begin with, having psychosis mixed with paranoia. I couldn't be so sure at all. Still, I would love to have a big chance at freedom, but all I have for now is to live in constant shame from the rest of not just society itself, but from the entire world, from being a literal menace to society.

That's when I was locked up inside my own house for the rest of my life, living in constant fear that my parents are too old to support me, and what I can do with myself, knowing the fact that my older brother has his own family to take care of now, and has no time and money for me.

As well as for my big sister who refuses to see any of us in the family, after what my father secretly done to her out or drunken rage, finding out she was a lesbian.

She was "abused" in that very same room when she was around at the age of 16, and I was at least 8 years old at the time. Where she was disowned and kicked out of the house for being a lesbian.

Having myself wondering where she went all this time, I might suffer the same fate just for being pansexual. As well as seeing my father beat my own mother almost to death right in front of my eyes. She was at the verge of death until she was taken care of, and must be kept as a family secret.

Having my eyes about to tear up at that very moment, I knew I was a man, and such a man must never cry. I never cried to it to this day, but I've cried for my own selfish and immature issues regarding my own mental health problems.

I'll never be the same from trauma after trauma from childhood until I eventually became an unstable adult who started from being the wildest delinquent into a completely psychopathic lunatic of a mad dog I am.

I promised to them I'd change, but how many times have I broken their trust? Only to never be believed again, thinking I will just manipulate them for my selfish gains again.

I was young, wild, and free. But now that I've matured, they don't understand my crisis as a premature adult, with worries for my future and the responsibilities I have to practise before taking care of myself properly, yet they never let me.

They even refuse to teach me how to cook or do the laundry for myself, having the mindset for an everlasting parent to their deaths, quite literally, as all a parent wants is to never let their child mature and grow, having them be manipulated into thinking of having dependency on their parents.

That is the delusion they live in, both of my parents, and the delusion I live in is just a mere coping mechanism from the shitty reality I live in, if there was one to begin with, with such paranoid schizophrenic hallucinations. I can no longer trust myself.

It is the dread of night at the date of July the 12th in the year 2022. As an adult, I am not even allowed to drink alcohol, and they limit my caffeine, and even my bedtime. Especially my cigarette count.

Not to mention the fact that I am forced to eat no matter how depressed I am three times a day, skip that and you're forced to nicotine withdrawals.

They check your mouth every time you take your pills, in case you refuse to take them because they make you feel worse than you already feel, and those pills never helped them one bit, despite the fact that I am at maximum dose.

I just feel all the side effects, and not even the positive ones that are meant to help me. I've gotten worse. I've hit rock bottom, and people keep encouraging me. I don't need their pitiful encouragement.

I keep moving forward into keeping myself positive and staying on the bright side of life no matter how horrendous I go through. I've been in this house for seven years since I dropped out, probably secretly expelled because of how fucking crazy I was. But people never give me a chance to change.

What people refuse to understand is that people can change, and I am human too. What if the roles were switched here, and I would look like a crazy tyrant? But when it is me who is locked up for a lifetime without any human rights, or privacy, I am still the villain because I am the one with the mental illness.

It is never fair. And I have no one online to support me. I act too excited and childish on the internet because I never get to meet real people to socialise with in real life. Especially how manic I get once people get to know me, and how I get to know people better.

Society says just be yourself, but once you do, you are hated for it. Having myself to be stuck as a people-pleaser to the co-point of beyond no return that I will lose my real identity, eventually.

I had friends who stayed true to me, but they all left because they have their own life rather than the internet, and people refuse to understand why I can't have my own. Perhaps, I refuse to make them understand, by hiding the shameful part of myself that I can't have a life no matter what I do.

I've done all I can, but I don't want people to pity me for the things I've gone through. Crashing from so much caffeine, my dopamine levels have dropped below normal. Now I can see reality better, without the delusions, and such hallucinations.

By tomorrow morning, my dopamine levels spike up as the usual level of any schizophrenic, and I will turn delusional again.

It could turn worse if I drank more than one cup of coffee, with extraordinary gifts running rampant, making me unstable.