The Mind of the Sick

How do I explain my need to run?

There is a specific feeling that tugs on my soul; a distinct need to runaway to a unknown place, abandon acquaintances, loved ones, reputations and the burdens of your homeland. It's a reaction to overwhelming petty problems, boredom, and sometimes it disappears after a good holiday or  with time. But when the feeling lingers, when it grows with time instead of fading like a rotting oil painting in a forgotten studio, then you must know that this feeling has evolved. It's attached all hope into running in to the unknown lands and figuring out how to survive on the go. But the location isn't random, it's a place your heart calls for by reading through it's history, hearing it's language, viewing their art, hearing of their ways in life, their social structures and their climate. For me it was like falling in love. Nothing feels right unless I'm actively working towards realizing this dream, a hope to start a new life in Italy, Tuscany, and shed the skin of my old abused life. No more grey faces. No more grey streets. No more grey minds.
My visuals will now be flooded with beige's, oranges, soft yellows and worn marble whites. There will be no London smog, perpetual fumes that greet me each morning. This town of haunted memories will be left as a ghost town to me, filled with beings that are in my past and no more. My future is dedicated to hope.
These are my reasoning's to my desires.

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When I talk of 'hope' and 'desires' I come to realize just how different my definition of the words mean to me, compared to another's interpretation. My past has greatly influenced my philosophy, my views and interpretations, no matter how much I'd like to shed my past, it's essence will forever be a part of me.

I grew up in a cocoon of violence, an environment of instability, lies, and hatred. The good moments in the past hardly compared to the overwhelming influence the bad had had. I was raised to fear men and their sexualisation, to discriminate against others unlike me, hate my own flesh for being imperfect, to expect violence from carers, that weakness should be killed off and to put faith into a God that justified the horrific actions of destruction. It was brainwashing and perverted. I was a child. My understanding of the world was shaped around these values, and even after these influencers had left my life, there was something full of hatred and violence left behind in me. I can almost feel it breathing with me. It's not like a demon possessing my body and mind to do evil bidding, no, it's more complex than just programmed hate. The issue from the start is that my underdeveloped brain was subject to these influences for too long since the day I was born, therefore it is embedded in my neurological structure, NOT just behaviorism. No matter how much I reason with what I was taught, or how wildly different my opinions are now, there is no unlearning the fundamental foundations of my early development. These early teachings and experiences supposed to have aided me with my independent decision making and interpretations. How was I supposed to interpret the crippling traumas that followed??? I was TAUGHT that victimization is weak, negative emotion, mental illness all forms of weakness. And if there's something I'll remember till the day I die, mother always said weakness should be put down. She interpreted me below human after I became a victim of random violence/rape. For a long while I tried to accept my 'fate' of being this concept of 'weak'. But it was too painful to be constantly punished for expressing my pain in any way. One vivid memory (of many) I remember my mother coldly and with a calm rage telling me all the reasons I should be dead for crying. She said crying made me weak, therefore nonhuman.
My interpretation of these events, once I'd become a victim, was to become the same as my abusers. It wasn't a conscience decision. But the logic in my mind was "if I become feared and powerful like they were, I won't be a victim anymore." I wanted to be both worse and better than them. All of them. Every single person in the position of power who abused it, or those who did nothing when others hurt me. For so long I'd begged for help, but I didn't understand how to ask about specifics, or what the problems were, I was so blind... I wasn't taught the rights from wrong, only punishment and reward. My expression of love was constantly punished but expressions of power were rewarded. (example, if I'd bring home an abandoned kitten it would be killed/thrown out, but when I started being curious about dead things it was rewarded with how 'smart' I must be.) It also didn't help that I was also put in a position of having adult responsibilities and expectations whilst having the treatment and disrespect of a child. Everything in my life that I learnt constantly contradicted: I was told I was loved but then be neglected of basic human needs and rights. Learning that every man wants to sexually exploit me one way or another, then being left in their supervision. This is a good example if how schizophrenia is developed at a young age, since studies have pin pointed that constant contradicting factors into unstable mental development (this is my own introspection based on my studies in basic psychology.)

There is no doubt I have been left psychologically scarred and neurologically abnormal from the traumatic events in themselves. However, it's the way I was taught to understand the world which has truly damaged me, because the years of denial, toxic socialization and misinformation has left me unable to understand right from wrong TO THIS DAY. I feel guilty for fucking EATING and not hurting people. I feel like I deserve to die when I cry. I still expect sexual abuse from every man I meet. I can never be vulnerable, or I will break.