Unconditional

1: In The Darkness

I've always lived in the darkness. Not literally, of course. But in my head, that's all there is: darkness. My life has never been very interesting, but the voices in my head make it seem more interesting. And no, I don't mean the kind of mental voices crazy people have that tell me to light my backyard on fire. I'm talking about the voices that are derived from my insecurities and mental illnesses and disorders. Nobody really knows or cares that I have mental illnesses because they seem to be taboo in social conversations, which I don't have very often anyway. My parents don't even like talking about them for whatever reason. So I'm left to pondering about them alone in the dark comfort of my room.

          I was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety when I was 12, but I know I've had depression since I was at least 7 after my grandma passed away, and I've definitely had anxiety my whole life. That's why I'm so shy and avoid any kind of social interactions at all costs, if I'm able to. I also have avoidant personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and bipolar disorder. And my therapist also thinks I have traits of both sociopathy and psychopathy. So . . . I'm pretty messed up in the head, I guess.

          I've never really had any friends because my disorders make it nearly impossible for me to connect with others on an emotional or personal level. So I've stuck to my stubborn, independent self for the last ten years. That's what's led me to take up writing and drawing; it's my own way of communicating my emotions to others, just not as literal and direct as vocal communication.

          Because I've never had any friends, that also clearly means I've never had a boyfriend either. I mean, one guy asked me out once it seventh grade and the so-called "relationship" lasted five days short of six months, but I hardly count that as a relationship because it was in middle school five years ago, and we didn't do anything more than hold hands. I'm now a senior in high school, and I don't even know what it's like to hug a guy other than my male cousins and my dad.

          I've actually done some research on shy people's desires for romantic affection, and they—affection experts, I guess—call it "touch hunger" or "skin hunger." I slightly prefer the former term because the latter just makes someone sound like a cannibalistic zombie. Anyway, to put it simply, it means that someone craves romantic affection not only because they've never had it before, but because they don't know what it's like to have it. The ironic thing about me having "touch hunger" is that I normally hate being touched. Especially light touches, which make me flinch, which make people laugh at me, which embarrasses me and pisses me off. I guess there must be a big difference between being touched normally and being touched romantically. You know, like a simple big, warm hug, or cuddling, or whatever else couples do. Because I don't know what couples do.

          I pretty much spend all of my time writing random stories that come to me while I'm asleep or in the middle of a boring class, drawing characters from those stories, and stressing about my last year in school. My parents want me to go to college, and I kind of used to want to go too, but within the last year I've changed my mind because I'd rather spend the remaining years of my life writing books in the comfort of my loneliness. But it might end up not being up to me. Either way, my parents would be wasting thousands of dollars on a somewhat useless education.