I think I’m starting to get it…

So… a while back ago, I decided to combine all of my WordPress sites all into one. By doing that, I ended up completely getting rid of my personal blog site, where I talked a lot about my depression and mental/emotional struggles.

I personally thought that it would be best that way. I actually somehow convinced myself that my personal thoughts and rantings weren’t important anymore. And true… they may not be all that important to the mass public. But they’re important to me! And maybe they’ll be important to someone else if they’re struggling with the same things.

I kind of forgot why I started writing at all… and for who. I feel like the whole reason I write is to sort out my thoughts. I have so many constantly running in my mind that I don’t even know how to organize them. Because of that, I don’t know how I’m supposed to even process things sometimes. Like… I get out of touch with my emotions, but writing them down lets me put them into perspective.

Maybe that’s why I lean towards dark material in my fantasy writing? Because even I have dark thoughts that scare me, but if I don’t study them, I’ll never know how I’m really supposed to feel about them. Am I having these thoughts because I’m actually a broken person? Do I think about suicide because I really want to die, or do I think about it because it’s normal and everyone does? But if everyone thinks about it, why doesn’t anyone talk about it? To be honest… I’m still not too convinced that I know the answers to these questions yet.

However, I do know that I’m still alive and the dark thoughts haven’t convinced me to do anything yet… so hopefully someone else who’s confused can find this writing and we can reassure each other that we’re not the only ones having these thoughts. We’re not broken.

I think I’m starting to get it…? Little by little? The reason I always felt like an outcast despite the constant nonsense I hear about humans being “Social Creatures.” Maybe it’s all been in my head. Or, to rephrase, it just wasn’t. My mind didn’t know how to process things and in its confusion, to protect me, it created my ego.

At some point, I had some idea of what kind of person I wanted to be; so of course, when I started writing, I made him first. He was perfect! A badass, a suave ladies man. Flawless in every way. But… at some point, I guess I became more self aware and created someone more within my reach? That second character was Aries.

Aries isn’t a perfect man and he has flaws, but he has a clear love and kindness. His only protagonist was his father, my previous character: A convoluted mess of references that were too tangled up for me to have ever understood until recently.

Hadi (not his original name, but the original name is embarrassing) is clearly a representation of what I see in my own father. My birth father, that is. The man who I have two memories of. One as a young child when he came to see my mother… then another of him calling me after I turned 18, telling me he would call me the next day (when I wasn’t busy), then never reaching out to me again.

This man became a clear source of my villainous influence in my writing. I hated him for never being there, but I didn’t understand why he would do this to me. So I put all those traits into Hadi, the reference I had for a male role-model. Remember, growing up without too much reference on what a male role-model was, I had to make my own. So, with that, I made Hadi Aries’ father and made him mean. Maybe then, if I wrote about it, I could find out why he was like this to me… but eventually, I realized that there was no reason… he was just a bad father. I can’t forgive him because it’s not something he can change… it’s just who he is.

I had to pay the price for that, though. That’s why he’s the villain. Because it took me 29 years to realize that it wasn’t my fault that my father didn’t want to be in my life, and that maybe there’s nothing actually wrong with me.

So… yeah… here I am. A 29-year-old man crying at his computer as he writes about his feelings about his father. If you’re struggling with similar thoughts, no matter the age, I promise you’re not alone.