ewwi
05-11-2014, 04:46 PM
Hi, I'm Paul, and I'm a bad person.
Now, I don't really think I'm a bad person deep down inside. But, whatever I'm dealing with, has buried that person years ago and I don't even remember who he is.
So, why do I think I'm a bad person? I do bad things. Nothing crazy that would put me in jail or anything like that, but bad enough. I really have no idea where to start this, so please forgive me if my thoughts seem incoherent and I bounce around alot. I see this as turning into an extremely long post pretty quickly, and I hope I get everything out. I think I'm going to start with my background and growing up.
I was a nerd. Bonafide nerd. One of, if not the, smartest kids in school. 98% of other kids didn't like me. Teased me. Picked on me. I believe most of that happened because I didn't really care what they thought, I was just scared to death of my father and knew I had to do good to avoid getting my ass spanked. I've often thought this childhood contributed to what I have become today (both the good and bad), but I'm slowly starting to think otherwise. I mean, he spanked me...and hard at times, but I don't think it was like criminal abuse or anything. Maybe by todays standards, but certainly not in the 80's. I was definitely scared of him. However, I see my son turning into the same man I am (he's 16), and I've never hit my kids. Ok, fast forward to 7th grade. My older sister accuses my father of molesting her. I still have no idea if he really did or not. My dad is/was certainly a whore and a pervert in every sense of the word. My sister was also a conniving slut that would do anything to get her way. (I still love them both, I'm just trying to give my perspective at that age). So, I could see the argument either way. There was never any proof, it was his word against hers, and she won. He went to prison for 5? years or so, and of course my parents got a divorce. I should add that my father was very manipulative, and (almost) always got his way.
At that point, I had freedom to do what I wanted (this was entering highschool). I virtually had no idea who I was or liked even at that point. I just wanted to BE liked. The easiest road to that, of course, was to hang out with the bad kids. So I went from competing in state wide math competitions in 8th grade, to the kid that smoked in the hallways, skipped school, shoplifted, and did drugs in 9th grade. I somehow squeaked through 9th, but by 10th, I was ruined. I skipped so much school (or missed from suspensions due to smoking and what not) that I was held back. 2nd year of 10th grade, lasted about 2 months before I talked my mother into letting me drop out. I should also mention I had furious fits of rage alot during this time. I had punched 100's, yes 100's of holes in the walls at home. I barely remember this period, it was a very dark time for me. I don't even remember what it's like to get that angry anymore.
Shortly after dropping out, I was still hanging out with the bad kids, and ended up getting caught breaking & entering. It was an empty storage trailer, and we didn't even take anything...just did it to do it. The probation officer knew of my past, so I essentially got the worst sentence because he saw how bad and fast my life was spiraling downwards. I did 6 months in a special needs program at a juvenile detention center. Now, my time here started rough, I was severely addicted to smoking at this point, and got caught with a cigarette butt I had found and tried to smoke in a bathroom one night. Shortly after, I turned it all around and ended up being a role (student/prisoner/not sure), but essentially excelling further into that program than anyone ever had, and ended up being released 3 weeks early because of it. With that said, I don't think I did it because I believed in it. I did it because I knew how easy life would be as a good kid in there, and I knew what they were looking for out of a student to make that progression. So, I really just manipulated the system and pretended to be the kid they wanted.
Once I got out, I went back to school. Lasted just long enough to find my wife (who I'm still married to today). I was better, but didn't have the drive/motivation to do good and finish, and still ended up dropping out. A year later, she was pregnant. I had seen this story too many times, and knew I had to make some changes. I knew since I was about 5 years old I wanted to join the Army. My father was Army, and talked about it all the time. I knew that's what I wanted, and needed in my life. Being a dropout made things hard though. It took over a year, but I ended up scoring in the top 1% on my GED test, and joining the Army.
Military life was perfect for me. Once I learned what they wanted in a perfect soldier, again, I made myself be that. I was a mechanic, and they called me God, Jr. I learned how to make people like me! Except it wasn't me. It was me just getting so dam good at something, that everyone looked up to me. With that comes insurmountable amounts of stress that I always had to be perfect though, or people wouldn't like me. I left the Army after 6 years, and I was promotable to an E6 (SSG) at that time, which was just about unheard of in my field.
Whoa, gotta backup a minute here. I missed what I'm starting to think may be a key step into what I'm dealing with. Sometime in 9th or 10th grade, when I was a badass you know, I got in a fight. Only fight of my life. Got my ass kicked BAD. Why do I think this is a big deal? Well, it kinda goes along with my need to be perfect, but moreso I think plays into my absolute deathly fear of confrontation. I mean, absurdly scared of it. If there's a remote chance of confrontation somewhere, you won't find me there. Or anywhere near it. I'll lie to people, do whatever it takes, to avoid a confrontation. If I'm talking to someone about something, my points of view will reflect theirs to defer a potential argument that could of course lead to a more physical confrontation.
Okay. After military life, I wanted to continue wrenching. Long story short, I landed a job with a dealership, and ended up being one of the top technicians in the country. I loved the brand, but I was just so good at manipulation that I really was/am a rockstar at this. Took alot of bullshitting at first, but man, I'm really good now. I KNOW I am. But, I still stress about it. I still feel like I have to be perfect. There is literally less than 5 people in the nation that *might* be better than me...and I still stress like crazy. I shouldn't. This is the one true thing I know about me. That I love. That's given me all the success I've had to date. I shouldn't worry about this.
Now, let's move on. I think it's all related, I really do. I've twice now seeked professional help. Neither time did it do anything. I've had a lexapro? prescription once, did nothing for me. However, I also feel like I was always self diagnosing myself before talking to a therapist, and ended up telling them the symptoms of what I thought I had, rather than true feelings. Well, let me correct that. With both doctors, I tried telling them basically what I'm telling you all now...but they never really seemed to listen/understand/whatever. I don't know. I probably visited both about 4 times each, and they just didn't have a clue so I felt like I had to guide them in the direction that I thought.
My biggest issues. I've covered 2 thus far - the confrontation thing and the manipulation thing (which may or may not be a thing). The final issue - I seem to have no feelings. Like, none. I'm a one mooded guy usually. I mean, I stress like crazy, but I'm good at hiding it. I get mad inside sometimes, but I bury that to avoid confrontation. I don't think I feel love at all. I mean, I've been with my wife for 19 years now, and have an 18 year old and a 16 year old. I know I love them, but I don't feel it. One time I did. I know I did. I was deployed in the desert overseas, and my wife found out I had cheated on her during a previous deployment, and she was leaving. I was completely hopeless and helpless, in a desert thousands of miles away. I was suicidal. Felt like all was lost. I KNEW at that point that I did have the ability to love, and loved her dearly. And I think that's what she needed to see. We ended up working it out, and are still together today. That scenario has happened 3 times now. Almost the exact same way. And I'm perfect afterwards, for a brief time. I feel like I would cheat again. It's like I just have no feelings at all until something happens that demand them. That's not fair to her. I think my son is turning into me. I thought for a long time that something was wrong with me, but I was doing SO good at life, and so many people liked me, and I had so much success that it didn't matter. I was winning!
It's going to tear my family apart. It's not fair of me to be selfish and continue on like this to remain safe and "happy". It's not fair for me to hold back my feelings of love or anger towards her or my kids. I have to do something, but I don't know what to do.
So I drink. When I'm drinking, I'm a different me. I actually talk to my wife (I don't think I've mentioned yet, but I don't really talk...I know it's related to my other problems/symptoms/whatever), but when I'm drinking I talk. I can carry on a great conversation. I laugh. I cry. I hug my kids. I'm the me I should be. But I KNOW I can't just drink all the time. I'm not an alcoholic yet, but if I continue this path, I will be. I'm probably borderline. I consider myself not, because I never drink when I'm alone. I only drink if I'm hanging out with friends really, with the exception of maybe 1 or 2 at the end of the day or work. And I do that because I can go home and be me. Be somewhat active. If I don't, I typically come home and veg out on the computer and facebook/forum it up all night.
Will add more later, gonna run for now.
Now, I don't really think I'm a bad person deep down inside. But, whatever I'm dealing with, has buried that person years ago and I don't even remember who he is.
So, why do I think I'm a bad person? I do bad things. Nothing crazy that would put me in jail or anything like that, but bad enough. I really have no idea where to start this, so please forgive me if my thoughts seem incoherent and I bounce around alot. I see this as turning into an extremely long post pretty quickly, and I hope I get everything out. I think I'm going to start with my background and growing up.
I was a nerd. Bonafide nerd. One of, if not the, smartest kids in school. 98% of other kids didn't like me. Teased me. Picked on me. I believe most of that happened because I didn't really care what they thought, I was just scared to death of my father and knew I had to do good to avoid getting my ass spanked. I've often thought this childhood contributed to what I have become today (both the good and bad), but I'm slowly starting to think otherwise. I mean, he spanked me...and hard at times, but I don't think it was like criminal abuse or anything. Maybe by todays standards, but certainly not in the 80's. I was definitely scared of him. However, I see my son turning into the same man I am (he's 16), and I've never hit my kids. Ok, fast forward to 7th grade. My older sister accuses my father of molesting her. I still have no idea if he really did or not. My dad is/was certainly a whore and a pervert in every sense of the word. My sister was also a conniving slut that would do anything to get her way. (I still love them both, I'm just trying to give my perspective at that age). So, I could see the argument either way. There was never any proof, it was his word against hers, and she won. He went to prison for 5? years or so, and of course my parents got a divorce. I should add that my father was very manipulative, and (almost) always got his way.
At that point, I had freedom to do what I wanted (this was entering highschool). I virtually had no idea who I was or liked even at that point. I just wanted to BE liked. The easiest road to that, of course, was to hang out with the bad kids. So I went from competing in state wide math competitions in 8th grade, to the kid that smoked in the hallways, skipped school, shoplifted, and did drugs in 9th grade. I somehow squeaked through 9th, but by 10th, I was ruined. I skipped so much school (or missed from suspensions due to smoking and what not) that I was held back. 2nd year of 10th grade, lasted about 2 months before I talked my mother into letting me drop out. I should also mention I had furious fits of rage alot during this time. I had punched 100's, yes 100's of holes in the walls at home. I barely remember this period, it was a very dark time for me. I don't even remember what it's like to get that angry anymore.
Shortly after dropping out, I was still hanging out with the bad kids, and ended up getting caught breaking & entering. It was an empty storage trailer, and we didn't even take anything...just did it to do it. The probation officer knew of my past, so I essentially got the worst sentence because he saw how bad and fast my life was spiraling downwards. I did 6 months in a special needs program at a juvenile detention center. Now, my time here started rough, I was severely addicted to smoking at this point, and got caught with a cigarette butt I had found and tried to smoke in a bathroom one night. Shortly after, I turned it all around and ended up being a role (student/prisoner/not sure), but essentially excelling further into that program than anyone ever had, and ended up being released 3 weeks early because of it. With that said, I don't think I did it because I believed in it. I did it because I knew how easy life would be as a good kid in there, and I knew what they were looking for out of a student to make that progression. So, I really just manipulated the system and pretended to be the kid they wanted.
Once I got out, I went back to school. Lasted just long enough to find my wife (who I'm still married to today). I was better, but didn't have the drive/motivation to do good and finish, and still ended up dropping out. A year later, she was pregnant. I had seen this story too many times, and knew I had to make some changes. I knew since I was about 5 years old I wanted to join the Army. My father was Army, and talked about it all the time. I knew that's what I wanted, and needed in my life. Being a dropout made things hard though. It took over a year, but I ended up scoring in the top 1% on my GED test, and joining the Army.
Military life was perfect for me. Once I learned what they wanted in a perfect soldier, again, I made myself be that. I was a mechanic, and they called me God, Jr. I learned how to make people like me! Except it wasn't me. It was me just getting so dam good at something, that everyone looked up to me. With that comes insurmountable amounts of stress that I always had to be perfect though, or people wouldn't like me. I left the Army after 6 years, and I was promotable to an E6 (SSG) at that time, which was just about unheard of in my field.
Whoa, gotta backup a minute here. I missed what I'm starting to think may be a key step into what I'm dealing with. Sometime in 9th or 10th grade, when I was a badass you know, I got in a fight. Only fight of my life. Got my ass kicked BAD. Why do I think this is a big deal? Well, it kinda goes along with my need to be perfect, but moreso I think plays into my absolute deathly fear of confrontation. I mean, absurdly scared of it. If there's a remote chance of confrontation somewhere, you won't find me there. Or anywhere near it. I'll lie to people, do whatever it takes, to avoid a confrontation. If I'm talking to someone about something, my points of view will reflect theirs to defer a potential argument that could of course lead to a more physical confrontation.
Okay. After military life, I wanted to continue wrenching. Long story short, I landed a job with a dealership, and ended up being one of the top technicians in the country. I loved the brand, but I was just so good at manipulation that I really was/am a rockstar at this. Took alot of bullshitting at first, but man, I'm really good now. I KNOW I am. But, I still stress about it. I still feel like I have to be perfect. There is literally less than 5 people in the nation that *might* be better than me...and I still stress like crazy. I shouldn't. This is the one true thing I know about me. That I love. That's given me all the success I've had to date. I shouldn't worry about this.
Now, let's move on. I think it's all related, I really do. I've twice now seeked professional help. Neither time did it do anything. I've had a lexapro? prescription once, did nothing for me. However, I also feel like I was always self diagnosing myself before talking to a therapist, and ended up telling them the symptoms of what I thought I had, rather than true feelings. Well, let me correct that. With both doctors, I tried telling them basically what I'm telling you all now...but they never really seemed to listen/understand/whatever. I don't know. I probably visited both about 4 times each, and they just didn't have a clue so I felt like I had to guide them in the direction that I thought.
My biggest issues. I've covered 2 thus far - the confrontation thing and the manipulation thing (which may or may not be a thing). The final issue - I seem to have no feelings. Like, none. I'm a one mooded guy usually. I mean, I stress like crazy, but I'm good at hiding it. I get mad inside sometimes, but I bury that to avoid confrontation. I don't think I feel love at all. I mean, I've been with my wife for 19 years now, and have an 18 year old and a 16 year old. I know I love them, but I don't feel it. One time I did. I know I did. I was deployed in the desert overseas, and my wife found out I had cheated on her during a previous deployment, and she was leaving. I was completely hopeless and helpless, in a desert thousands of miles away. I was suicidal. Felt like all was lost. I KNEW at that point that I did have the ability to love, and loved her dearly. And I think that's what she needed to see. We ended up working it out, and are still together today. That scenario has happened 3 times now. Almost the exact same way. And I'm perfect afterwards, for a brief time. I feel like I would cheat again. It's like I just have no feelings at all until something happens that demand them. That's not fair to her. I think my son is turning into me. I thought for a long time that something was wrong with me, but I was doing SO good at life, and so many people liked me, and I had so much success that it didn't matter. I was winning!
It's going to tear my family apart. It's not fair of me to be selfish and continue on like this to remain safe and "happy". It's not fair for me to hold back my feelings of love or anger towards her or my kids. I have to do something, but I don't know what to do.
So I drink. When I'm drinking, I'm a different me. I actually talk to my wife (I don't think I've mentioned yet, but I don't really talk...I know it's related to my other problems/symptoms/whatever), but when I'm drinking I talk. I can carry on a great conversation. I laugh. I cry. I hug my kids. I'm the me I should be. But I KNOW I can't just drink all the time. I'm not an alcoholic yet, but if I continue this path, I will be. I'm probably borderline. I consider myself not, because I never drink when I'm alone. I only drink if I'm hanging out with friends really, with the exception of maybe 1 or 2 at the end of the day or work. And I do that because I can go home and be me. Be somewhat active. If I don't, I typically come home and veg out on the computer and facebook/forum it up all night.
Will add more later, gonna run for now.