What The Hell Happened To Me? Read Count : 8

Category : Blogs

Sub Category : LifeStyle

How did we get so f***ed up?

It's not your fault you're fucked up; it's your fault if you stay fucked up. But the foundation of your fuckedupness is something that's been pushed down and shared through many generations of your family, like a spaghetti recipe—though I can live with spaghetti. 

In my case, it’s my introversion, my high blood pressure, and my manic depression.

You were a tiny bundle of joy coming into this planet. Well, maybe you were. I, on the other hand, was not quite ready to come out just yet. My mother was in labor longer than most soon-to-be-mothers. 

Then, just when they were prepped for a C-section I decided to come out, wide-eyed, screaming for them to put me back inside.

Even then I thought everything was too bright. I still think this. 

Here was when I had my first traumatic experience, with a man dressed in a bright whiteness smacking me on my ass, forever scarring me, as well as being the kickoff to my forever growing distrust for doctors. And men wearing all white. Who do you think you are, James Bond? Prince?

Back then, there was nothing about the world that was scary, or too expensive... not yet. However, this was when I started my fucked up mannerisms. Anything my parents put in front of me or around my face, I had to grab it and proceed to stick it in my mouth—this is probably why my parents didn’t really make a big deal when I had taken up cigarettes at seventeen. 

As we grew older, we grew into the age of keeping, or rather, remembering memories. We were then condition to be different from everyone else. Well that wasn’t their intention when our parents started filling us up with a lifetime‘s worth of believes. Their beliefs, I must add. Many of which have absolutely nothing to do with who we actually are, or even what is true—“Black people suck, stay away from gays, oh, and you’re fat.”

However, these were not what my parents had said to me. I had a great childhood, with warm and loving parents who lived for my brother and I... and still do. 

So what the fuck happened to me?

to be, 


not to be 



  • In technicality... If we were talking social studies: culture is nurture... But the nurture of a good family as described above can be over ruled and undermined by the culture outside of the family. But if we're talking about language and how one can be fucked up despite an amicable upbringing, then I think it's apt to point out that many cultures and societies are anything but nurturing... They can shape and mould the landscape of your life, but can be suffocating and restrictive, allowing little to grow in the way of happiness, hope or general healthy mental functioning! You're right that it is debatable though 😊

    Sep 14, 2018

  • Jay aLLeVi8eD

    Jay ALLeVi8eD

    Initially, I was speaking about being fucked up from hereditary issues and abuse, trauma, anything that happened in childhood, etc. I agree with you, I had a great childhood but I became a hardcore alcoholic, crack and heroin addict. All of that had dramatically enhanced my anxiety and manic depression that was inherited from my parents. Then with the trauma of losing my girlfriend to an overdose and waking up to my best friend next to me, dead from another overdose, I really felt honestly fucked Up like there was something wrong with me—as if they were my fault. But I overcame it all. If I hadn’t gotten help and withered in my depression and addiction, not only would I have stayed fucked up, I would be worse. All I was getting at was that we don’t have to stay feeling that way.

    Sep 15, 2018

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