Ok, here's the deal:
I'm not doing enough, I feel like I could be doing so much more. Where I live pot is ubiquitous and... subsequently I smoke the shit all the time. All too often, we'll just chill and smoke weed but proceed to do nothing under the influence but just sit there; and inevitably smoke more. Concurrently, I'm always analyzing everything, and being 18 years old, still in high school (independent study) I am slightly different than most kids my age...
(If you don't feel like reading, skip this part to the request below, also colored blue, if you do feel like reading, here it is: )
And I do believe I've discovered why: recognition, everyone is trying to get it. Back in 7th grade I feel like I lost it from my father, whom is the only person I really 'love,' and in 7th grade I was being too social, and not accomplishing enough for his recognition. Furthermore, we had additional new family members in the household, who brought with them their additional own psychological complications.
And I always felt like the scape-goat at home.
It was like my father did not know how to express love, except through the giving of material items. And I began to realize others were acquiring far more corporeal luxuries than me (which I interpreted as rejection). At school I was quite popular, but that doesn't matter in middle school. I made fun of lots of kids because they were 'themselves' and not a hoarde of secular 'preppies' and some 'skaters,' like (haha) 'myself.'
And I did it because I was depressed, because of the issues at home, and I reflected them at school. Girls were interested in me, but my self-confidence was crumbling, my grades were crumbling, I made fun of others to restore my mental sustenence... I felt like a loser, but being at school made me feel a little better.
However when shit got real out of hand at my dad's house, I'd run to my mom's... and I'm guessing I was looking for love and affection, something mothers are synonymous with... ya know? Instead I recieved information of the fallacies of the people making me feel like shit. Well, thanks, I knew that, I came to not feel like shit... FUCK. I have a strange relationship with my mom, like I 'know' she fucked up somehow, I can see it everytime I look into her eyes a sort of repentance, something she did wrong as I was a very little child.
Furthermore, everything I hate about myself, I've derived from my mother. Especially my skills in manipulation. I grew up with my parents playing mind games, I'd give my mother my trust and get fucked. Several times, this did happen... and although this is no drastic physical abuse
( when I was like 11-12-13 my stepmother did attack me 'viciously' on a camping trip because I was talking shit, I was laughing at her, as she attacked me, I didn't even fight back. I hated them all, and ended up booking it and crying... because once again, nobody was on my side, including my once beloved father. My only consolation being some hot chick several years older than me that didn't really care that I had a episode and talked with me. I'd only been hit a few times though, besides that time. Which didn't bother me as much as the mental games, and I guess I have got into one physical semi-brawl with my father)
But I tend to work these issues out. Pot helps, surely I don't need it... but you can see the connection between smokin' weed and your family...
Which brings me to girls, who I used to really love hanging out with and chill with easily. But because of my previous depression, I'd like a girl, she'd like me, but I'd convince myself through 'careful analyzation' that she in fact was not interested. (Not until months later did I realize I could have had a relationship, the feelings were mutual. Or several relationships, for that matter.) So I guess I fooled around like most kids but I didn't ever have any relationships.
When I got held back in 7th grade, and all my friends proceeded to high school is when the shit hit the fan. Now I had to wander more, I'd have to make new friends... and by now I had no confidence in myself or who I was... By now the only quality I possessed was the ability to adeptly talk shit to people (perhaps because I could relate with their loneliness). That's always kind of how I've felt all along, alone in the crowd.
So I went on independent study, started playing a fucking online roleplaying game called EverQuest--ironic, I was getting my delectation from making fun of 'nerds' previously, and now I'd become one. So slowly but surely, I quit hanging out with my friends, and just chilled at my house and played this game.
One fine morning, I don't know how, or why, though I'll inform you I am very curious, occurred an event which would in succession lead to my first 'psychedelic trip.' The solitude allowed my true, analytical character to run free in the elysian fields of the encephalon. I began to rapidly absorb information, because I was so intrigued... intrigue, something school has successfully killed for me in regards to academia...
English lessons were readin' a Bassmaster magazine on the shitter. **I put off math, because even though at a young age I excelled, I became disinterested and fell behind.**(We'll get to this) Social studies was my favorite subject, I was the teacher, and the student. I would sit in my room 'processing' all the information I received when I used to be around people. Studying society, and studying the history leading to current society were issues of astronomical interest; I didn't use drugs at the time, haah. And I loved History.
My teacher would come over, and just completely engage me into some hyperactive serotogenically-fed philosophical discussion. It was a great time, my confidence was now booming, derived some a different source now, a true source. I was content to sit there in my room, write essays, play online games and just... ahh, my favorite... think.
I'd come up with a hypothesis regarding something, at age 14. And present it to my teacher, and he would just kick it and listen, I felt empowered... unfortunately, it was also a sort of ego trip.
I hypothesized that my brain worked like a series of 'roads' all interconnected, which passed along information, and which "I" would travel, and any turn off would lead to this memory or so on... At this point I didn't know anything about neuroanatomy, nor that it really is like a network of neuron cells.
I also hypothesized that the majority of people's 'dramatic issues' are self-afflictions, to 'feel,' actions invoked out of boredom, in hope of discovering some sort of purpose. Or to satisfy some urgency of compulsive 'need' for 'something.'
Accordingly, there are amino peptides responsible for the different moods we experience, and receptor sites can become dependent on these chemicals, chemicals released, perhaps, after a highly 'traumatic' issue over a 'lover' or something else melodramatic.
How much of this do we create? Headaches, stress... how much control do we have over it? Where does the Universe exist, ... we're part of it. How many times has that nausea just been a psychosomatic manifestation?
I knew why I had been depressed, and I haven't been depressed since... (Other than when fucking around with drugs which alter neurochemistry drastically, which I generally do not do) But... I also killed something inside me, I cannot allow myself to get close to anyone, I've tried getting close with a few girls but it never really gets deep.
Point being, I am enthralled by the human brain, and the conscious it produces, or perhaps recieves? Who knows? I'd like to help figuring out.
During this period--the solitude-- of my life I'm certain some serotonin metabolised into DMT, perhaps, or some other related tryptamines. The 'enlightenment' felt remarkably similiar to Psiloc(cy)in, and to a lesser extent LSD-25. I smoked DMT one time, very small dose, felt exactly like my experiences at age 14, I couldn't even differentiate between whether it was me or the drug...placebo perhaps... who knows?
And I think if I got recognition from somebody, specifically my father, or perhaps an awesome girlfriend would be nice too, I wouldn't smoke nearly as much pot. So, yeah, anyways:
So I feel compelled to pursue my interests in ecology, neuroscience, mycology, writing, etc... But I feel inept in math. I learn best if working alone or perhaps with one other person, it would be a good opportunity to hang out with my dad and prepare my self for a life of science; science applicable to greater goals than making money. Does anyone have any good recommendations for math books which one can read on one's spare time and learn mathematics? I can understand algebra for the most part, but sadly fractions and decimals and the likes I still do not fully understand. So a book covering those topics and progressively moving further would be nice. And perhaps a few books that convey the deeper meaning of math. Thanks for the help, I really want to try an put an effort into doing something conducive to a more sustainable correlation between man, nature and the Universe.
Not sure why I felt the need to tell everyone my life story, but, thanks!
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