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DesLock
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Musings on a wasted life

Permanent Linkby DesLock on Mon Nov 17, 2014 9:24 pm

I wasted too much of my life pretending to be something I wasn’t.

But I guess we are what we believe we are – or what we are told we are – at given times. A few years ago I was reluctant to admit, as most adults are, that the child within was still there, occasionally appearing to laugh at me, what I’d become. I spent so long just playing a role for the benefit of others, even people I didn’t really care about. I was no longer me, I was a character I had created, and what made it worse was that I knew my friends and family loved this character more than the real me. The real me was a torture-murder obsessed, sexual sadist, so it’s quite hard to defend.

I began to question what I was doing with my life, what I really believed in. If I knew, would I announce it? I’ve never been able to take any form of religion seriously and I’ve never been too fond of people either. At the age of 21 I had a complete mental break down which resulted in a half-hearted suicide attempt, followed by two arrests – these three events happened in the space of one month. I lost a substantial amount of weight and at one point I was drinking several bottles of wine most days, while drunkenly ranting about conspiracy theories. My parents moved to get be sectioned, and failed. After I lost my job for fighting with my manager, I had to live out of my car before being convinced to move back to my mothers.

At this stage in the story, I feel it would be fitting for me to say ‘At the age of 22, thanks to friends and family…’ or ‘when I turned 22 I met the woman of my dreams who saved me from myself.’ but that’s not how this goes.

On my 22nd birthday I met a woman who ticked all my boxes. She was a tall, pale redhead with blue eyes and was, I would soon find out, a part-time model. We traded numbers and I would later meet up with her in the hopes of getting laid. Instead, I found myself buying her dinning and ending the night with nothing more than a kiss. This was very unlike me. By the end of the month we were going out and she had accepted my brushes with the law, coming to all the court dates with me. I would soon find out over the course of our half-a-year ‘relationship’ that she was a manipulative, bulimic nutcase, who once scratched me so hard that she scarred my neck. One night, after a drunken argument, she attacked me one too many times and I slapped her, as hard as I could. I ended the relationship and thereafter followed what I can only call a tidal wave of threats from her friends and family. She had a long string of boyfriends in the preceding months, all of home I received death threats from. When she burned my only suit, which I’d kept at hers and needed for court, I went to confront her and she called the police saying I had attempted to rape her. Nothing came of it, and I have avoided her since.

I remember one night after a party I encountered one of her boyfriends and, being as off my face on coke as I was, I thought nothing of my probation and attacked him. Luckily, I had went to college with one of the bouncers at the bar and he hauled me inside and chased the other guy away. I then made a complete arse of myself at the bar, shouting and swearing the patrons, before being bundled into a taxi by the bouncer. I’ve not been back.

When I turned 23 I moved in with another University student and it lasted almost 8 months before I threatened to kill him. He called the police and the tenancy was prematurely ended. The Police, of course, couldn’t do anything with no evidence, but my court appointed social worker was called and I was ‘persuaded’ to attend anger management. I didn’t turn up to the appointment and it was never brought up again.

Today, I am typing this knowing that the police will arrive at my door to arrest me for breeching my order tomorrow. I’ve never done time, and I’ve lost contact with most of my family and nearly all of my friends. Going away will end my time at University, and likely remove my chances of returning in future. I’m not sure how to feel. I’m not scared, or angry, or content. I just am. I think of the little kid inside me who is sitting there, laughing hysterically at how tits up I’ve allowed my life to go. I have no regrets, I have no apologies. My advice to anyone reading this is, don’t take life seriously. Do not play a role. Just be yourself, and let the kid in you out whenever you hear them.

“The only absolute knowledge attainable by man is that life is meaningless.” – Leo Tolstoy

~Das leben ist eine fremdsprache, alle menschen sprechen es falsch aus~
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