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A Human Condition part:2
The summer before 7th grade I broke arm, pretty bad, they called it a compound fracture.
All I know is both bones in my left arm broke through the skin, and wrapped around the outer part of the trampoline, it was gross.
Blood just everywhere.
I was at my aunt's house and had spent a week pretending, several times[ probably at least 10 times] that I had broke bones, I'd either scream about my leg or back, or coincidentally my arm and watch my aunt and her family run to my aid, and just burst into laughter. I was a little shit and they were sick of it. So when I actually broke my arm, my screams for help would go unnoticed but I knew I wouldn't get any help. As I'm unwrapping my arm from the outer metal ring a man, who was a ER doctor and next door neighbor, ran into the backyard with a bandage wrap and hard brace thing, to help me get the bones set, that's when my cousins and aunt came out, screaming about God and how harshly he teaches[everyone in my family is uber religious, I was walking away from religion at that time, accepting the only thing I felt was religious, Nature + Kindness + Loving Myself, knew that their ridiculous behavior was not getting excused by an invisible man and it wasn't "God" who teaching me a lesson, I was crying wolf.] I knew that karma had caught up to me, and that Karma was the most patient gangster of all time.
And it was my time.

By that point I had already developed characteristics that professional's would call "coping mechanisms". Watching my narcissistic mother down massive amounts of booze made me want to feel like she looked while drunk.
My surgery would introduce me to Vicodin, I had never taken a tylenol before but the doctor thought vicodin was just the best solution to pain I never expressed having.
I took that painkiller and I felt million times better than I thought I could ever feel. Got out of the hospital two days before 7th grade and besides asking about my cast, the kids at school wanted to know what they gave me for pain. . .
My tiny negatively shaped world was about to take off towards an even darker territory that was disguised as fun, itching to get out of my head.

To get to the point, I ultimately sold my prescription to other students, that lead to a few parents of my friends started buying from me.
I had never considered money to be important before that, and I think I was living in a fucked state of mind from the half-assed upbringing. By the summer before high school, I had tried alcohol, cigarettes, smoked pot like the world was ending and topping it off with mushrooms and acid, in that order.
None of these activities will address the real issue.
No one will hear how I'm getting high because I want to mask my pain, and my mom will use my drug use to exploit her family for cash and sympathy. In a way, my mom would get her narcissist needs met by flaunting my problems to anyone who would listen. She was addicted to it.

It would 22 years to wake up from that.
Honestly I don't know what happened or how I could just walk away from the destructive nature of my drug addiction, I was just so fucking tired. And one day I thought FUCK THIS!
I had been bested by my own way. A way that felt so fucking comfortable for so long. It's assumed I have what it takes but that's an assumption I have set in stone. I literally would stand by my own side, wallowing in my own process, making my own decisions, however stupid and drugged up my mind is. A fucking idiot thing that mind is. But impressive nonetheless. I've read about the human mind and it's very nature, I've never actually considered my own capacity, until recently. I know I don't have all the skills to obtain the success, I KNOW I can pretend, pretend to be ok, that's somewhat of a trait of mine.
I CAN put a smile on my face while drowning in my pain, expectations, anxiety, and fears . I CAN keep it to myself. But that's never helped and for some unknown reason, I can see that now.

I spent so much time running away from my thoughts, hiding from my fears and anxiously waiting someone else to figure out what is wrong with me.
But, I found hope, in the weirdest part of what I was running from. And I thought everytime a choice is offered, a decision needs to be made. Equal amounts of energy carried in a positive and negative choice. When a child is born into a specific upbringing that's often more tragic than loving, then that child will develop defense mechanism for survival. In my opinion and experience I do know the power the human mind contains, working purely for survival purposes, the brain will adapt to any situation, making it fully suited to function in the most complex manner possible. Genuinely needing the urge to feel love, I can say that my mind worked overtime for me.
I visualize my brain as a office building, hundreds of tiny workers creating, organizing, learning and adapting all while fighting to keep at bay the deadly world that lies beneath their very foundation. Often joking and called myself stupid but never could seeing anything beyond that. As of recently, I have become very impressed with my brain and all it's efforts to, not only keep me alive, but to give me the mental strength I needed.
I'm not done or better, all I can say is I'm trying.
I am trying. It's really hard for me to accept that I had the power the entire time, hard to understand the damage that I did to nyself. I feel like I never gave myself the chance. I was offered a choice, my mind tells me it's a deeply emotional or complete loss of control type of situation and I would run. Racing towards the madness numbing magic and never take the leap needed for growth. A choice that would allow me the freedom I know I craved. So now I look at myself and try to wrap by mind around my mind and think "There's a lot going on in here, that's so fucking incredible!"
I'm a fucking badass!!
Regardless the process and how slowly it's going. Running towards my shitshow instead of hiding from it is the only way to overcome decades of bullshit. I am, however, concerned about the ease of sliding back into old habits and falling for the mental constructs I've let overwhelm me. I reflect on my inability to love myself or not knowing what to say when I'm complimented. The damage is there, visible wear and tear ignored for decades. I think that a decent amount of care was given to me but I could also make a list of the poorly prescribed notions I subscribed to, that in no way had a positive outcomes and I can see precisely when I crossed that line. It sickens me and at the same moment inspires me. I know I can be more, and I know I need to actively change the way I handle situations. This was always the lesson I had misinterpreted as my weaknesses. A ignorance that kept my judgments strong while enforcing a behavior that was never suited for love. For me love is everything. I hope to gain confidence in loving myself and destroy the way I think and feel about self-love. Hopefully this is a form of love. Recognizing feelings for what they are, silly visitors, they come and go, and you don't have to dwell in them.
So I ask myself what is really important and do I have the wisdom and courage to build my life around my answer.