Hi world.
This is my confession, a true one
this time.
As humans we have a need to find a mate to drive our bloodline forward,
but we have the need for one more thing; a pack. Whether we look for a position
as alpha, hunter or strategist we feel the need to have a pack around us,
unless that need is robbed from us by exile. We may call them other names;
clicks, groups, gangs, even families, but when we go back to the basics we are
animals, pack animals specifically. The need to fit in to a pack is so strong
we sometimes neglect who we are and adapt to the environment the pack operates
in and along the way we make the mistake of forgetting who we started out as.
This is my story of how I lost my need for a pack by being exiled from the one
I was a member of.
I had always been an outsider and quite the nerd, a title that gave me
some form of contact with the others in the form that I was the go-to guy when
it came to bootleg cd’s, computers, math etc. This however was never enough and
the few friends I had at this time felt obsolete to satisfy my needs in a pack.
And in addition I was bullied a lot through school for being a big guy, that
didn’t really help the situation. Over the years I learned the art of lying
without any tell-tale signs in order to get what I wanted, a dark path to walk
down, but one I felt necessary for my survival in this world. It started of
small with little white lies about my life, nothing crazy, just little changes
to a reality I did not like too much. But as any other addiction it escalated
to a level where it became dangerous. At age 17 I was introduced to an environment
of parties, drugs, untamed flirting and general fun, at least in comparison to
what I was used to as a geek. But in order to fit in to this new setting I felt
like the geek had to die, and thereby a new identity was born, one known by a nickname
rather than my real one.
This new identity was a hardened marihuana smoking, cocaine snorting half-criminal
that no one would dare touch, neither verbally or physically. I created this
identity to fit in to this new setting, never knowing I was essentially digging
my own grave the deeper I got. Over the months my lies became more and more
elaborate, involving impossible scenarios that I really knew no one in their
right mind should have believed for a second. I even told them I had been in
jail for 6 months for violence without my mother knowing while I still lived at
home, that is just insane, even by my standards. The problem was however, no
one confronted me about these stupid stories, whether it was out of stupidity
or that they wanted me to come clean on myself I will never know. It wasn’t
until about a year or so later things started to go wrong, not that they
confronted me, they took a different approach.
Me and a friend at the time had been playing poker and I thought it was
for fun, with imaginary money. But after a while he started claiming money, in
small amounts first, saying I had stolen from our drug supply, making me pay
for merchandise that was never missing. Then came the big blow, a poker debt of
no less than 50.000kr(about $10.000) which I of course did not have, I was 18
years old and unemployed. It ended up with my grandmother paying him a little
over 30.000kr(about $6.000) to get him off my back and I really thought the
money thing was over. It was for a while, until he ‘’sold’’ my debt to a guy he
owed money too, but that was a while later, and things happened in between
those points in time.
After this all went down I developed anxiety and a condition called
Agoraphobia, a fear of big places with many people, like shopping malls, stores
etc, but it evolved to me not going out at all. My family brought me what I
needed and picked up my packages from shopping online, I was afraid to go
outside for a long time. Now, I had been wondering about going away for a
special school for a while, and decided to take action on this idea. I went away
for a year, cleaned up from drugs while I was there and even lived a normal
life for a while. Then it was time to go home, home to a new city about an hour
away from where I had lived for 18 years. My mom had decided that we needed to
get away from that past and start over, but I still had lingering fear for
going outside.
In time I worked on this fear, exposing myself to real life a little by
little, constantly looking over my back for people wanting to hurt me. Now I
have been working at a hardware store for about a year, until the government
didn’t see any reason to have me there on their budget any more. So here I am,
looking for jobs, hanging out with my wonderful girlfriend and blogging, not a
full and satisfying life, but I’m getting there. When it comes to my life in a
pack though, that need is gone for good I think. I have never told this story
before, but now I think it’s time it got out.
Hi, I’m unknown and this is my confession..
Sincerely,
Unknown
