Turning to My Story
One day my head was touched by insanity and all my hard work diminished to nothing.
My Complaint:
My ability to move how I wanted or sometimes in general was taken, meaning I lost the strength I built from the gym and could not have an occupation, I would scream until I was hoarse for years so all the work and care I put into my voice for my love of singing was desecrated, the intelligence I had was degraded, the experience I had became inapplicable towards the new career choice I had, and my personality that I worked hard to forge out of anxiety became warped. Years and years for all of the above diminshed to nothing. I still am at the point where I cannot completely move how I want or talk how I want or think how I want or feel how I want while writing this, but I can only hope I'll be given the chance to regain what I've lost and more.
I've always loved literature and would actively participate in every English class I had. As a kid my nose favored being in a book in my free time, even as I walked around outside.
Though I was focused on a different career entirely. My love for animals had me pursuing the veterinary field leading me to volunteer in animal shelters and vaccination/spay clinics, being a board member of animal volunteer and pre-veterinary clubs, and working in clinics. When I was losing sight of that dream I took a pre-veterinary excursion to Thailand where I reaffirmed my decision and got the most hands-on experience I ever had. I was so sure, but when I was accepted into Vet School I didn't go. I couldn't give a concrete reason as to why. I was making excuses. So I moved to San Diego to work a little longer in another clinic, maybe study more and re-apply later.
However reality changed and the strangers in stores and the streets would say things about my private life, not long later my apartment was broken into and I had to move back in with my family where I went through psychosis and insomnia. Where I still am.
I was forcibly given time to reflect on my life. When I was feeling a little better I decided to take some classes I knew I'd enjoy, literature classes, and one comment was made along the lines of me being able to write a book or that it was book-worthy when it was something I haphazardly wrote when I was preoccupied with suffering and screaming. It inspired me to change what I wanted for my future.
The suffering occurred everyday and lasted years, I'm reiterating that it is still ongoing, and with it my appreciation for everything I had before gradually turned a festering entitlement of a better life than I originally imagined for myself. The years of suffering provided a lifetime of writing content that I hope you will enjoy.
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