Chapter 4 From The Light Into The Darkness

From the inception of my adulthood my personality my behaviour began to alter. I started to exhibit increasingly detrimental behaviours which were indicators of a severe personality disorder. At the time i was unaware i was suffering from the negative symptoms of being schizoid. For myself I had completely normalised these eccentric habits. The proclivity to exile myself from friends from family i didn’t regard as symptomatic of a disorder. This behaviour i ascertained was a result of enduring long term untreated depression that first germinated in my adolescence. Shielding myself from people becoming more detached numbing the pain never allowing myself to be emotionally vulnerable. A method of protecting my fragile psyche from humanities cruelty. Even though i realised I was drastically altering in how comported myself i never perceived that i was suffering from a undiagnosed affliction. Conscious that i was a fragile shy introvert who needed the comfort the shelter of elongated spells of isolation.

After i concluded my secondary education and commenced my sixth form studies i was transforming and devolving into a more asocial personality. All of my closest most intimate essential friends were studying in a alternative college from where i was situated. Becoming dissociated from my friends rarely seeing them. Maybe socialising with my circle of school friends once a month if that where’d we would go out out and consume lavish quantities of alcohol.

The removal from my intimate tribe of friends to a unfamiliar college setting where I barely knew any of my fellow students, which exposed my social limitations. I began to be cognisant of how socially maladroit I was that i had no aptitude for forming substantial long term intimate relationships. Having no capacity for connecting with strangers with fellow peers emotionally, regarding myself as a remote aloof cold individual who displayed a limited expanse of emotions.

I was a loner never speaking to my fellow students being obsessively myopically committed to my own studies. Barely saying anything other than vacuous superficial comments. Never commenting on anything other than conversation that was pertinent to our studies. Never engaging in deep penetrating emotive verbal exchanges. At sixth form college i was left alone without the sanctuary of my clique of companions. I was exposed to how damaged my defective personality was. This is when i begin to envision the sad alienated life i was destined to live. That i would forever struggle to formulate new friends. That dreams of falling in love would remain unfulfilled due to my emotionally inarticulacy around humans I was enamoured with. As my personality continued to regress I was increasingly awkward less proficient in being able to convey an interest in people who i was attracted to. Indeed in early adulthood my flaws my behavioural issues became solidified in my character. Instead of seeking help for my depression for my personality defects i never broke the negative pattern. Never would I evolve into a normal functional being who adapted into society.

My life after school carried on with the same anti social lifestyle I exhibited at secondary school. Having a sparse almost non existent social calendar. Where i had sporadic nights out with the few friends i miraculously maintained. At sixth form was when I commenced my detrimental tendency of negating these long term friendships. I took my friends for granted never keeping contact never calling them going weeks months without seeing them. My friends somehow enjoyed my company took pleasure in me despite my glaring interpersonal flaws. Hanging on to a meagre circle of acquaintances appearing normal giving a veneer of normality to my life. The friendships that were sustained in early adulthood alleviated the anxiety they mitigated my detachment from mainstream society. These indispensable relationships helped to defer the worst characteristics of my personality disorder. Going on holiday going fishing playing football having wondrous nights out imbued my damaged soul with feelings of normality. They temporarily abated the symptoms of my condition until later in my adult life.

Still though i had elongated periods of solitude with an absence of human contact. Nothing but the studies the glorious liberation of music and literature. I had fantastical dreams of a life away from this bleak desolate town. These imaginings of my illustrious future still seemed a tangible reality. Dreams that would be actualised through higher education. Higher education would give me a route towards intellectual and financial accomplishment. I retained this fantasy that i could bloom from a painfully shy introvert into a beautiful flower of pure human charisma. That i would metamorphosis into this idealised person that existed in my imagination. That i could display all the positive personal attributes i currently lacked.

As I progressed from adolescence into the brutality of adulthood this dreams became increasingly improbable. Instead of progressing instead of evolving becoming more gregarious i regressed as a person. Retreating further inwards to states of inertia never venturing outside of the sanctuary of my shell. Never divulging about my emotions my clinical depression my interminable loneliness. Incapable of articulating myself fully to other humans I gradually became this emotionless withdrawn shutdown person. Surviving the depression the social alienation by numbing the pain by never talking about myself to another living sentient being. Drifting further away from a world of kindness empathy and compassion towards a cold dead life.

It was around this time when i cultivated a more extensive elaborate inner private fantasy world. This atypical personality trait was fostered as a means of supplementing my love starved soul. The lack of human contact that i had in the real tangible world meant i had to create a vast inner landscape where i had love where i felt alive. Living in a fantasy world through imagined alternative idealised version of myself where i had validation as a person. From my earliest childhood memory i had this abnormal propensity to fantasise to create vast virtual worlds inside my own head. Having a wild imagination where I created elaborate vast inner adventures to compensate for the boredom for the dearth of human contact. Now as a adult this illusionary universe became increasingly complex. It was a inner world that i began to live vicariously in as the roots of my pernicious personality disorder adversely affected my life. When I deteriorated in my social skills when I became increasingly verbally laconic in unfamiliar stressful social situations when i existed in protracted periods of social exclusion this propensity to fantasise became more prominent in my psyche. It was a idealised world in which grandiose dreams were fulfilled where i found love travelled met interesting effervescent people. I was a successful musician a charismatic captivating person. In my inner fantasy world i created this alter ego this perfect alternative version of myself.

My life my visions of the future started to fall apart this envision of my colourful future became delusions that would never happen. A life of love of friendship of traversing outside my home town. I desperately hanged onto these far fetched dreams it give a hope a reason to be alive that i could perhaps achieve my lofty ambitions. This fantasy world allowed myself to function giving me oxygen from the toil and moil of being schizoid. In reality i became ensconced in a tiny world devoid of human interaction.

I noticed this abnormal propensity to fantasise becoming more prevalent in me when i was approximately 17. This was a period when this disorder developed harming the quality of my early adulthood. At school before this disorder symptoms became more pronounced i was a hardworking precocious student. My education my studies was the focal point of my life. I was obsessively devoted to my studies to the detriment of my social life at times. I ascertained i couldn’t extricate myself from Mayberry from the humdrum the tedium the suffocating atmosphere on my limited personality alone. I was fully aware the pathway to freedom was going to be attained via academic excellence. Earning a place at a prestigious university through rigorous relentless hard work. I maintained a strong work ethic in my studies focusing diligently on achieving my lofty goals in the area of higher education. Always studying always trying my absolute hardest to fulfill my intellectual potential.

At 16 I achieved impressive grades earning mostly A’s and a few B’s in my GCSES. I had taken the first significant steps towards academic self actualisation. Not yet deciding what specific subjects i was going to study at university. The drive to better myself to emancipate myself from the melancholy of Mayberry stayed with me until the age of 17. When i commenced my sixth form education I carried on the similar pattern of learning of being a consummate student. Working as rigorous as possible pushing myself to the depths of my intellectual ability in the various fields i was studying in. Then my behaviour my compartment began to alter around the age of 17. I noticed a significant alteration in my personality and a deprecation in my drive my ambition to learn. The defects the flaws in my character become more severe under the weight of schizoid personality disorder. A negative consequence of this disorder is the loss of energy of ambition. My drive my lust to learn rapidly vanished as i lost all purpose. The handwork the insatiable appetite for knowledge for self improvement fell apart. I began gliding by in my studies just putting in the basic requirements as oppose to exerting myself to scholarly excellence.

This rapid decent was a result of two factors. Firstly i was now suffering under the injurious symptoms of this damaging personality disorder. Secondly I continued to endure untreated undiagnosed long term depression. Instead this time time the depression had metastasised into feeling of worthlessness. The depression along with the antisocial disorder was markedly affecting the quality of my life affecting my future vocational ambitions. My grades in sixth form fall away in a serious way due to the lack of ambition i had. I lacked the drive the desire to learn that’s a prerequisite for achieving access to a university education. The subjects the education failed to excite to inflame my intellectual curiosity anymore. I become a truant falling to attend my classes taking days even weeks off just staying at home pretending to be ill. On other occasions i would lethargically stroll around town on my own not feeling ill not feeling anything. Hiding the reality i was rarely attending classes from my parents. Pretending to venture to college when i was spending my day away from my studies playing truant. Wandering aimlessly around Mayberry staying away from my academic pursuits which just now lacked all meaning.

I was adrift in the darkness of my unresolved personal demons. I was lost searching for help for the light of humanity as my disorder was eclipsing all the hope as my soul became submerged in twilight. It was a dark time a period i would never fully recover from. Never again would i regain my unquenchable passion for knowledge for art for the sciences. Lost forever my love of music of literature. Ceased reading poetry novels ceased the playing of the guitar which previously had given me such joy such ecstasy. The avenues of pleasure were closing the possibilities the hopes for the future were crumbling into dust. My grandiose aspirations became a mirage become pure fantasy.

The idea of university education was now a impossible reality. I was collapsing in on myself descending into a acute paralysing depression. Into a state of complete inertia where i was walling myself from the world living a secluded ostracised life. There was this potential this intellect that was being squandered by me. The desired had been vanquished from my being never to return. The depression the failure to leave this dreary town would haunt me forever. The scars of this formative period would stain my consciousness I’d never regain the colour the vitality the joy of being. Falling back into the serenity of my private imaginary world where my potential was realised. This peculiar personality trait to fantasise was a mechanism to endure being so utterly alone to neutralise the anguish of being schizoid. Instead of excelling in adventurous new vocation or persisting with my studies i escaped into this alternative reality where i was untethered from the restraints of my deeply introverted identity.

My relationship with my immediate family continued to deteriorate as my schizoid symptoms became more pronounced. The detrimental pattern of detachment and non communication from my family i started in early adolescence only exacerbated as i matured into a dysfunctional adult. Being schizoid only exacerbated the frosty relationship with my parents. Weeks would glide by with me not exchanging a single conversation with my father. When we did converse its was these terse icy exchanges no warmth no rapport between us. Never would we engage in lengthy verbose conversations. I had become so disassociated from the warmth of family life being akin to a stranger in the house. Ever since i was a infant the quality of my connection with my father had been incrementally declining. With the genesis of my corrosive personality disorder it intensified the emotional distance between us. I still loved my father as I’m positive he loved me however i was incapable of expressing my feelings explicitly. My father like myself struggled with elucidating his repressed feelings to me. I had inherited these traits of intense inhibition from my father. In my atypical nature the severity of my emotional constipation was greater. My father was doomed to be crippling shy introvert who found being emotionally lucid a laborious undertaking. Whereas i was so acutely afflicted by emotional impotence it left we branded a social leper forever alone in a indifferent godless universe.

The bond with my mother also continued to degrade as i became a adult. My mother was a mountain of boundless warmth of infinite maternal love a ebullient extrovert yet we became disconnected for each other. As a teenager i was shy i rarely talked at all in the family setting. Even with people i shared a affinity with who i was related with i found it arduous to interact with. The interactions with my mother became infrequent it wasn’t lengthy fluent exchanges it was mainly a exchange of superficial pleasantries. The depths of my soul aches with sadness at how this once beautiful bond had become fragmented had become impaired through the ravages of my damaged personality. At home as a young adult I’d vanish into my cell of isolation into my self imposed solitary confinement chamber. The only time there was even a modicum of interaction was with the habitual family tea time meal. At dinner the conversation from my part was awkward I’d answer there inquisitive questions with a robotic bluntness. The dinner was permeated with long stretches of deafening silence. Keeping my emotional problems hidden in the tomb of my fractured mind never divulging never unloading my emotional torment.

At home in the intimate vicinity of family i adopted a stoic countenance a putting on the robotic mask to protect myself from ever being vulnerable. At this particular period i was ignorant that i was under the duress of a psychological impairing disorder. I was though cognisant that I wasn’t a normal that manifesting anti social behaviour being sequestered from human contact was abnormal. Fully aware I wasn’t growing out of my teenage awkwardness that the odd behaviour was preventing me from excelling in life. That my primary relationships were being adversely affected by my untreated mental illness. That this wasn’t a angsty teenage habit where i gained some autonomy from my creators in order to develop into adulthood. I was now a young adult still possessing these negative character traits.

As with the complete breakdown of the relationships with my mother and father the affinity the rapport i was shared with my sister had evaporated over time. Where there was once a poignant intimate kinship now he became strangers cohabiting in the same domicile. I can recall being a child being almost inseparable from my sister Racheal. Our connection was a enormously enriching kinship which sustained through the tribulations of my initial induction into primary school. Now in the midst of my emotional arrested adulthood we barely spoke to each other. We were so cold in the seldom occasions we actually spoke to each other. We never disclosed intimate issues to each other conversations were laconic the ice never melted. I removed myself from that iridescent warmth of my sisters love i attempted to extricate her humanity from my life. The notion of being close to Racheal became so intensely stressful. Wanting to avoid the negativity raw emotions that results in disclosing private secrets to another human. I believed the disorder had always been with me except now in my maturation from teenager into a fully formed adult it had progressed in the severity of the symptoms. My relatives i postulated were conscious that i was a abnormal individual possibly suffering from a mental illness but were unaware of my numerous emotional problems due to my secretive nature. In summation the love the warmth of my family i had once in my infancy had vanish never to return. I was essentially a stranger living in their abode with no connection no rapport between us just indifference and metaphorical walls that would never be removed or torn down.

In spite of my deteriorating social skills. My maladroit manner i remarkably was able to maintain the handful of friendships from secondary school. We would meet on sporadic occasions maybe once a month on glorious nights out. These vital beneficial alliances were preserved despite my predilection for extensive periods of solitude. My social anxiety my disquietude in meeting strangers in unfamiliar situations had heightened through the worsening of my condition. Being cloaked in the comforting blanket of my friends love uncertain anxiety inducing situations was durable. In my early adult years when my disorder was beginning to affect me i had these ordinary youthful pursuits such as holiday excursions in foreign exotic locations.

I can recall these wondrous holidays with a fondness and with a deep melancholy at the life i could have experienced as a adult. The adventurous outgoing life that i had a glimpse of a life i aspired to have that was sadly denied by the limitations of my insular personality. From the ages of 16 until 21 I regularly went on exuberant vacations with my friends. It was a aspect of my life that could be depicted as normal. Not having a functional social life where i would rarely break my rigid routine of sixth college studies and home. The holidays the joyous memories that were created gave some ebullience to a black and white monochrome life. I felt for a momentary period like a human being instead of this alienated social freak who was forbidden to participate in many of life affirming indulgences. Going to popular holiday ventures consuming excessive quantities of alcohol having a rich tapestry of drunken memories to recall on.

The friendships from school of James, Steve and Jonathan were sustained there were other friends we habitually socialised with in our small tribe of cohorts. In this particular time in my late teens my disorder hadn’t developed to the point where I wasn’t able to preserve long term meaningful friendships. On these holidays though i continued to struggle in seducing attractive women. My ineptitude around women whom i was attracted towards precluded me from yielding any success in the area of sexual intercourse. There was a seminal occasion on another alcohol fuelled adventure in Ibiza where i finally managed to lose my virginity. It’s a miraculous event that another women through the magic of alcohol would find me sexually alluring to the point she was prepared to engage in the ecstasy of sex. It was the isolated sexual experience in my entire pathetic vapid life where my sexual desires were satiated. Her name was rose she had glorious flowing red hair that cascaded down her voluptuous body. Her memory her sublime appearance is tattooed on my consciousness. Never again would engage in the heavenly cosmic experience of pure physical intimacy with another person. Due to my litany of dysfunctions my flaws connecting with men with women I regarded as aesthetically pleasing became highly improbable.

At the age of 18 when perchance I discovered that i was suffering from a pernicious personality disorder on a website which delineated the symptoms signs and effects of being schizoid. This was a blindingly illuminating moment that give me devastating perceptive on how damaged i had become in early adulthood. I never vocalised i was impaired with this disorder to another soul. Keeping it secret like the depression that haunts me every waking moment like a ghost. Trying diligently to appear normal adopting a persona of sanity of detachment. With my friends i was a normal person able to engage in vibrant humorous conversations being able to be lucid with these enduring friendships. Having a normal albeit a limited social calendar going out infrequently once a month but being able to have a semblance of normality in claustrophobic anxiety inducing nights out. Around the shelter the security of my cohorts i was able to actually enjoy getting drunk in nightclubs surrounded by strangers without feeling too paranoid or stressed out. It took considerable effort and persistence from my friends to preserve our intimate relationship. Due to my inclination for being alone for having a aversion and vexation in interacting with other humans. My mates had to cajole me to venture outside they had to work hard to keep in contact with me. Never would i take the initiative call my friends it was invariably who arranged a meeting a night out a party a holiday abroad. As my condition grew more severe we met less infrequently as a result of my antisocial cold behaviour and being educated in a different educational establishment than all my companions. This was the cycle of socialising meeting up sporadically never calling never divulging about my myriad of psychological issues. Having rare nights out which were a enriching fulfilling that was essentially my only social interaction outside of laconic exchanges at college. These social gatherings of my comrades i continued to partake in until i emancipated myself from my family home when i was approximately 21.

From 16 till 21 i struggled immensely with forming connections with humans i was physically enamoured with. According to the schizoid personality disorder list of traits. Schizoids are often sexually apathetic this wasn’t the case with me. I had fantasies desires a insatiable sexual appetite. I had these grandiose romantic dreams of falling in love with a ethereal beauty. There was this dichotomy between my need for physical gratification for emotional validation and my social anxiety my hostility to any form of emotional intimacy. My schizoid inclinations prohibited me form having a girlfriends from finding love in a cold world. My damaged personality from even showing a modicum of interest in anybody that was pleasing to my eye. As a repercussion of my aloofness my frosty exterior i never had a girlfriend. This corrosive disorder locked out of a ordinary human experience billions of humans are able to participate in. The crippling terminal loneliness wanting so badly to have sex to have love in my insipid life. My desires were never satisfied love was this fantastical experience that existed in my imagination.

Around this formative time when i was still maturing into a fully formed adult when i was still confused about my sexual orientation. From the onset of puberty i found other men alluring. I couldn’t comprehend whether it was a phase of sexual curiosity or was i gay or perhaps bisexual. The impulse to be attracted to men hadn’t vanished these physical desires persisted as a adult. By the age of 18 these strong physical desires weren’t dissipating. Still i was intensely uncertain where exactly on the sexual spectrum i was. I was as equally sexually attracted to me and women. There was no difference in the degree of attraction between either gender. With men though there was alleviated levels of anxiety in the company of men. Intercommunicating was effortless in comparison to the laborious conversational i had with the fairer sex. These conversations with men were superficial shallow exchanges still i felt a rapport. With men as with women i could never actualise my desire never force myself into vulnerable conversations where i exposed my inner feelings. All my male relationships were platonic never flourishing into a physically intimate one. My inability with revealing any emotions my inability to be unafraid and confess my feeling lead into a barren love life permeated with regret with missed opportunities.

I was trapped in this body this soul desperate to be different to found a morsel of emotional gratification. A soul tortured by pathological hatred of myself never regarding myself as anything other than a grotesque alien freak. Beautiful people came into my life illuminated by dulled haunted eyes but i was trapped by my emotional paralysis. The detrimental cycle has been repeated throughout my meagre adulthood a vicious cycle that’s left me alone and depressed. Yearning aching for the overpowering radiance of love.

A injurious effect of being schizoid is my educational and career prospects were severely impaired. At the age of 18 i left sixth form with poor grades. A couple of c’s and d’s my performance had deteriorated as my conditions had become increasingly prevalent. I had no intention no ambition in applying for university education. My drive my relentless desire for self improvement to leave this humdrum town had vanished. As i discovered my disorder i concluded that I’d spend the remainder of my life severely handicapped unable to integrate in society. It was a devastating realisation of how broken how damaged i had become. Like looking in the mirror and seeing this deformed visage of man this is how I viewed my personality. My academic intellectual pretensions had been shattered, from this point on i abandoned any academic endeavours. Coming to the awareness that i would be trapped in Mayberry until i died. That i wasn’t equipped to venture outside to the big bad foreboding world. That I’m cursed to be a loved starved friendless loser condemned to a vocation in low paying low skilled menial labour. It’s my biggest regret that I’ve effectively given up on my dreams to a sad nothing job that’s left me bereft of life.

After college i remained at home not pursuing any academic education ending any higher educations ambitions. I ceased playing my scared guitar abandoned reading or writing losing my love for literature. After i terminated my academic aspirations I descended into a dark depression. At 18 applying for work at a a clothing warehouse called TWC. A clothing warehouse which packaged clothing to various retailers. Taking this meagre unattractive form of employment because it required no real skills or qualifications and having no social skills wasn’t a detriment to working in a warehouse. It was low skilled minimum wage labour the only type of employment that suited my abnormal character. By this time my pronounced social inhibitions were preventing me from exploring any vocation where there was any form of social interaction. In this warehouse atmosphere i could survive with my limited palette of social skills. Being gregarious being convivial wasn’t a prerequisite for working in a claustrophobic warehouse setting in fact my maladroit persona wasn’t a hindrance in being employed at TWC. I have subsisted in this soul destroying job for 15 years. It’s the sole form of employment I’ve had in my entire prosaic existence. Working here is like indentured servitude I don’t feel like a autonomous sentient rather a prisoner incarcerated in a brutal suffocating system. I persist in working here because I’m not challenged intellectually there’s no danger of ever being exposing myself emotionally and socially. I fell into this rut going to work 5 days a week in a spiritually dead situation. Where i was making barely enough money to support myself. It’s was a meagre wage but I was a slave inside a subhuman system paid enough to remain a slave. At TWC my dreams slowly died they only prevailed in my fantasy landscape. I had a lifestyle of sporadic nights out with a increasingly disassociated connection with my friends and work days surviving in a suffocating mind numbing workplace. At TWC i made few acquaintances there were seldom individuals i conversed with. On the whole though i kept myself to myself putting on this robotic icy visage. Not engaging in lengthy erudite conversations not allowing myself to cultivate meaningful substantive work associations.

These years from 18 to 21 is where I perpetuated these illusionary hopes for my future but my dreams the glimmering lights of fantastical possibilities were slowly diminishing through the ravages of time. Still i socialised with school chums still had glorious delusions of falling in love. These delusions died a slow death as i realised i was destined to live a purgatory life trapped in endless loneliness in agonising solitude. Over the first few years of my tenure at TWC my fractured relationship with my immediate family progressively deteriorated to the point we hardly talked at all. I made the courageous decision to gain some independence and move away from the noxious family environment to relocate to a cosy 1 bedroom flat. I needed to be free to be alone in my own company where I existed in a stress free fortress of solitude liberated from the vexation of human company. Even if the protracted solitude exacerbated my depression even if it heightened my melancholia. Being sequestered in my private enclave alleviated the daily anxiety the angst in living in close proximity to other humans.

By the age of 21 my disorder had eroded my interpersonal skills to the point I envisioned being a hermit. Moving out enabled me to further detach myself from family and friends. The measly paying menial occupation the vacuous personal life the emotional numbness were normal conditions i endured in my early twenties. It wasn’t living this psychedelic exciting adventurous life filled with beautiful mad people that i had envisioned in my embryonic teenage imagination. Never expanding my horizons beyond this small poverty stricken town. Living in a insular world a permanent loop of solitude and mind numbing labour.

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