My Locked Away Life
There's Something I Need to Confess to
I Was Homeschooled
I was homeschooled growing up. And yes, it made me a social weirdo on top of my neurodivergence and suffered abuse. I am selectively mute in real life. Still, at 25, I go mute when I'm scared of people. I am scared of people.
There's a part of me that's ashamed I was homeschooled and tries to hide it. I see the way people talk about homeschoolers online and it makes me want to hide. I thought about making Suzu homeschooled too, but I want to commentate on the severely underfunded school I didn't go to. My job feels like school anyway, so do psychewards. The social dynamics are strange. I don't really understand them outside of me being at the bottom of the totem.
Socially, I am at the bottom. Even online. Sexually, men want to fuck me at least. It doesn't feel all that special. Some men would fuck a sandwhich. There are few who actually want to take the time to get through my 100 layers of shell and find the fun sociable me underneath. Alcohol puts me on top of the totem pole which is upsetting, honestly. There is a version of me deep inside that's fun and charismatic, and talkative, and everything everyone wants to be. But I was screwed by my upbringing. I was so isolated. I only had my often abusive family. Sure, I was saved from school bullying (which I know would've happened and ended in me drawing someones blood), but I still got bullied and hit at home just plenty. Would school have compounded it, or been a respite? I don't know. I'll never know.
I Wish to be a Social Butterfly
Really. I love talking to people. I love being the center of attention. I love joking around and making everyone feel loved and included. When I'm drunk or on whatever, this is easy for me. But sober? I'm a mess of nerves. So deathly anxious that it hurts. And it's because of how I was raised. I am a testament to the fact that isolating, yelling at, and hitting your kid--shockingly--doesn't fucking work. It makes them scared. I was scared. I am still scared. The anxiety, the anger issues--that's fear. They instilled fear in me.
My Parents
I don't resent them. Even if the circumstances make me mad--I don't hate my parents. Because they were genuinely trying their best. They did better than their parents, and that's all they were trying to do. Was "better than their parents" enough? No. Was it healthy? No. But damnit I can see how hard they tried.
It'd be easier to just write them off as evil--but the world is more complex than that. They have souls, just like me. Souls that really messed up at times, but still souls. Still a beating, bleeding, aching heart.
I think they wanted to keep me safe from the world by homeschooling me, it didn't keep me safe from them, my siblings, or my extended family though. My family hurt me just as much as any stranger could ever hope to.
"She Wasn't Very Educated, But She Was Very Smart"
A quote from one of Marilyn Monroe's costars, on Marilyn. Oddly enough, I relate a lot to Marilyn in many ways. So much so, that I honestly believe she was neurodivgerent herself. She grew up in a girls home, she was an orphan. Her mother was first married at age 14, and eventually locked away in an asylum once she had a psychotic break. Marilyn was known to be mentally ill--diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I think she had ADHD too. Her real name was Norma Jean. Funnily enough it rings close to Nori Jammy. That quote struck me as it reminded me of myself.
I'm not very educated. My parents had a lot of kids, I was towards the end. They gave up by the time they got to me. So, I've taught myself most of what I know. That includes things like grammar, socialization, and art. I have zero formal education. Technically a highschool dropout. I'm not very educated, but I am very smart.
Isolation
I didn't get to live life. I've been locked away in a room like a trapped princess for most of my life. I lack experience outside of wandering the woods and drawing. I relate to the story of The Wolf Pack, if that tells you anything.
Except I didn't get a docummentary that paid for my therapy. I've had to tough it out. I did at least, find someone who cares: Trippy Trees. 
I made him his website, check it out if you'd like. It's a labor of love.
Trippy takes me on lots of adventures and reminds me that everything will be okay. He reminds me that my problems are not shameful, they are a product of abuse. He makes me feel comfortable and happy and for so long that was so rare. It's a relief. I am relieved.
