Life Story (as of 7/9/2024)

I wrote this a while ago and read it on a live.

PARTIAL FULL LIFE STORY:

I was born in MN(duplex) and moved to another place in MN(house). Then we moved to WI(duplex), and another place in WI(house). This all occurred before the age of 8. We moved back to MN when I was 12(final). I started drinking at 13. I abused adderall at 16, smoked weed around 16 and was started on meth about 18 years old and didn't really stop completely until around 23.

I don't remember the first move very well, but I remember it was scary and isolating and I had to be a 'new' kid. I had my toys to project through the feelings I couldn't share about how heartbroken that made me. The next time we moved in MN it was even more removing. I started to get acquainted with a new group of people and was starting to find a couple of people I could really rely on. I lose them as well.

WI(duplex), my Mom saved me from someone trying to steal my pokemon card, I was told about my biological father's suicide(also begins the connection of Nephy) I was then adopted by my stepdad at the time.

In WI(house), I had a very complicated sexual exploration with a neighbor 6+ years older because I said I feel like a girl and was told that means I'm gay. That house had ghosts and was the first place I shocked myself with the outlet. I started going back to playing with my beanie babies and staying in my room. On the weekends we would often go to the lake where I would spend nearly all day in the water. Playing outside was one escape, isolation was another, and then ever having to talk was increasingly difficult.

I don't have a life long friend (except 'jynx', the 'me' I had to stuff down after the 'complication' with the neighbor) and the ones I had dumped me for politics, ideology, rumor, or my actual behavior. So, by 14 I was drinking irish coffee listening to the drama on the bus as Nephy and I talked about the spirits moving through people and how the conversations will memetically evolve throughout the day and make predictions about reactions and next day follow ups. All day through HighSchool I got lost in and out of realities of much more interest than the lecture at hand. And at home I couldn't summarize the day any more. It was a nice tool to use and started to mess with me because the outside world didn't change along side the inside world.

I remember trying to explain to the doctor at the time, now living in MN(final), about the concept of me getting along and dealing with things the way I did in my room with my beanie babies and was left explaining things like "I don't have a single perspective" "my head is like a conversation, not a narration" "No 'they' don't talk back, 'I' do." and then about this new figure that was slightly different because I felt him like a dream, but wasn't hallucinating and I wouldn't call it 'visions'. A reoccurring character with no speech, behind my shoulders showing one nightmare to another uncontrollably at the ends and intermissions of my other day dreams. During all this, I still feel like a girl. The sex I gather more important conversational tools from is female. The sex I admire is male, but also look at most males as much more 'male' than myself and sometimes turn into a puddle. Presenting as a boy and teen dictated my voice, and occasionally I was caught with feminine intonation leading to asking and supportive prodding to come out as bi or gay and each time I got triggered and quickly tried to change my voice to be more masculine or come up with a situational excuse. I eventually came out as bi.

The only man I had sex with was after 18 years of age and knew my identity, and my struggles with said identity, respectfully. Which is rare because I still didn't even know what 'trans' was and I struggled not to catch feelings after because I felt so well read. I wasn't really interested in people looking for one sex or another, but found it very interesting enjoyable by proxy in general. My dad started working all week again and my parents would occasionally leave for the weekend as well. The fighting with them got worse when we lived in MN(final). I would occasionally be at nothing more than the emotional whims of the whine in my mother's glass awaiting a future without the level of stress that demands an empty home, and the bottom of it. Get into mincing words with someone that recalls everything differently once dad gets home a few days later. There were days I wouldn't say a single word all day. Those days were the most peaceful. I started to find a character evolving from who my mother wanted me to be, now 'ket'. The warrior type, and the part that was male-identifying. During this time, we got along when I was using and then when I wasn't I would flip on them or nit-pick and they would drug test me. Then, they would accuse me of cheating it.

At the end of my stay at my parents I was kicked out several times, suicidal several times, and the police were called. I was, one time, picked up and dragged through the house. And another, grabbed on the shoulder from behind at the top of the basement steps. Ket grabbed a kitchen knife after that one. I really thought I was going down a flight of stairs. One time, I was trying to go to my room and was told to get back there after 20 mins or so of aimless emotional interrogation and I came around the corner with a vase. The police couldn't arrest me and my dad wished I assaulted someone that day, out loud, to the cop. Even the cop thought that was a bit wrong and dad talked out of the hole pretty quick. I was kicked out once for having drugs in the house and the fight we had after and I had to take my self to Holiday Inn in the winter without much warmth and a bottle of vodka. I didn't have a car and my buddies couldn't help so I laid on the cement floor in the parking garage and woke up every 25 minutes or so gasping and needing to warm up. This makes sense to add here because that was physically traumatizing as nearing hypothermia was the reason for waking up. The cement stole the heat my coat was supposed to keep. The most hurtful part was coming home and being called a liar and the reality being accepted that I was drinking with friends and living like a 'rockstar'. Reminder: They were the one's listening to AD/DC. I was listening to BFMV 5FDP MCR, etc. Self harm was a pattern throughout.

I wanted to get away from this. I end up getting deeper into meth and it helps me stay focused for a while before the addiction sets in the rest of the way. At the end of my meth addiction another character from the house of mary came and connected me with something and I just straight up stopped smoking meth (eating adderall) suddenly around 20. She still comes around as 'Val' or 'Venus', but connected me to what I later will call Christ Consciousness. I was renting a room at the time and had chalk all over the walls keeping track of the worlds.

From 18-23 is a complete blur of inaccessible memory ending with me in a work-friend's house with a crazy alcohol pattern, totaled car after a suicide attempt, and another loaned car about to be repossessed, watching transition videos on youtube with deep contemplation, when my mom said I should probably go to Adult&Teen Challenge and I went. After completing short-term, I stayed a few months in long-term and told my doctor about my gender feelings. I had trouble with where to go from there. From the overcomer's group, I was able to seek a transfer to Pride Institute. I completed inpatient there and moved to outpatient, then sober living. I started my transition. I kept a job for a bit, started college, found a girlfriend and dropped out of college after moving in. The financial aid office said I would have housing support and after me signing myself away to them I learned that wasn't true. I couldn't afford rent and was losing my mind, so I left college. I later lost the job. I find another job a couple years, (and ER visits for mental health) later and hold that one for a couple of years.

People there were a mix of supportive and exclusionary. A mix of different people, some of them very religious, and some less. Some call me a man when they think I can't hear them, some don't. I become the pariah of the office and the most easy to blame runt. When I told the office about how it was spilling over into my ability to actually do my job it felt like it was not very carefully investigated and then things started to move into the harassment territory trying to find out who could have felt 'made fun of' for their gender and weight (i gained a 100lbs working there, 240lbs). With multiple issues that led to drama that affected me personally more than others as I was often blamed for anything wrong through the work day, and occasionally accused of stealing Christmas tips. The last time I was accused I just chewed out my boss when questioned and left. What was irritating was I told the office this was happening and this last boss actually had to ask me why I didn't say anything sooner for me to realize they aren't updating any of the new bosses. It started to look like the group would get people fired they didn't agree with and the store owner was completely hands off about 'drama'. I did not leave on good terms. They wouldn't have me part-time, fuck that place.

I then started a new job where I was defensive, difficult to communicate with, and had unexplainable shifts in mood and my ability to regularly do anything to any reliability. This is avoiding talking about the relationship that ended traumatically right before starting the new job. I have an endless urge to be recorded at all times as after that relationship and work environment and I have explained why elsewhere. She helps with rent and my parents help with other bills, and putting myself in another vulnerable situation without it being recorded 24/7 is absolutely paralyzing.

That's what I mean by I've never had stable housing in my entire life.

This is what I mean when I say I think I'm partially disabled as medications don't do anything but numb me and it doesn't fix the hole of trauma that I can get sucked into at a moment's notice, nor the uneasy feeling that creates for myself and the people around me. And, as everyone says they don't want me working for them or associating with them because of my nature they pass the buck to this invisible angel that would help or hire or heal or love, somewhere, if I would just try again. Think it's bad living with your parents? Try not even being able to do that. So many people throw out the thing that worked for them as an excuse not to help, I stopped complaining and started demanding. That wasn't right. BUT, you can't say I didn't try to tell you this whole time. There's much more I can go into including internet relationships, taking nudes of myself way too young, masturbating out in the open in the backyard. Liking any sexual attention I felt I could cut off with disabling wifi, or closing the phone browser. There's much more gore and terror, too. I just can't keep all that even close to chronological. I am a traumatized person, especially after 2020. Not getting into any of that here, either.

Through all of this, a theme.

I say I'm not using, they call me and the drug test a liar.

I say I slept on the cement, they call it a party with friends.

I say I'm being discriminated against at work, a new boss asks me (after catching some stuff on tape) why I hadn't said anything sooner.

I say I don't want to talk about deeper AI systems because it triggers my psychosis, I'm walked right through.

I explain identity, emotional, spiritual, and sexual boundaries and get called unreasonable and treated like I never complained about anything, but complained about everything too much at the same time and I'm still feeling like no matter what I do, I'm just not being heard. And, when I speak up more, rarely understood. It's an illness for which there are no easy assessment of symptoms and causes. It's not as easy as finding