Money (And My Mom)

Sometimes I hate my mom (though, she can be nice and loving too).

I want to take a relatively inexpensive improv and acting class, and she complains about the money (which she controls). Basically, she's saying since you haven't worked, you don't have it. If I take the class I'll have no money for social fun. She's telling me to collect bottles, babysit dogs, work at a supermarket. She doesn't understand my recovery.

It's not like I'm a crazy partier. I spend minimal money when I go out with friends. When they get alcohol, I get water. I'm always trying to conserve money. In fact, I had my friend buy my movie ticket in NYC. I'm starting to make coffee at home (since 4 dollars at Starbucks is too much). And my Mom still complains and barely gives me any money.

I'm not sure what her vision is for me. Is it to sit home all day collecting disability? That's a HORRIBLE EXISTENCE! And that's the reason I'm sick along with my parents. If I want to get healthy I need purpose.

For the time being, I can't do these classes. I'll do free NAMI events, go to support group, work on my screenplay, and continue to post on social media - hoping this will be my ticket to freedom. Maybe if I make my videos more IN YOUR FACE people have to take notice, then will be a Hollywood superstar.

I guess my life is horrible and I'll just fantasize I'm a rockstar.

My mom's verbally abusive towards me too. She talks to everyone else differently (in a friendly way since they won't take the abuse) - family, friends - but since she has power and control over me, she puts me down. Constantly calls me a loser and a failure - maybe not those exact words, but that's her message.

  I can't win. If I go into NYC and spend money - she complains. If I sit home all day going crazy - she complains. I just need to escape this hellhole.    

My doctors tell me my chains are internal, not maternal. Sometimes I feel like the chains ARE MATERNAL.

Maniac Man Cave, I Must Take Action

I've been in my apartment-like area that's attached to my mom's house for about a month now, I call it the "Maniac Man Cave".


I have privacy, and independence of sorts - and that's great.


However, I don't do anything "productive". I don't work or go to school, barely go to my support group. I haven't brought a single friend over, and it goes without saying that includes a woman. I don't use the microwave or toaster my mom bought me. And aside from the gym, pretty much make internet art in my fantasyland all day (which I call "Wonderland"). 


I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown from social isolation.  

I'm waiting for someone to arrive and change my life, I'm "waiting for Godot." No one's coming to rescue me. And if I keep waiting - days, weeks, months, years might pass. Then my mom's going to get older, and go away. So will my "Maniac Man Cave" and I'll be in an assisted living group home. I think that's unnecessary. I'm VERY HIGH-FUNCTIONING.


I have to take action and do something, anything. But I'm having difficulty taking charge of my life. No one can do it for me.


Take today for example, I asked my mom to come over to look for jobs, college classes, and social events with me because I don't do it on my own. Also, if I want to take a college class, I need my mom's permission and approval to do so. Since she controls my money. I need to justify it to her.


She begins writing the email to the professor for me, dictating exactly what I should write, and gets angry if I don't listen.


I begin to get angry and frustrated that's she's controlling me. Send her away. She leaves. Then go back to doing nothing.


Someone, help me learn how to metaphorically "swim." What should I do? Job? School? Support Group? All of the above?

extremely frustrated

Tweet 01. 
I'm so frustrated, I can barely function. I'm hoping someone's going to come and rescue me, but nobody's coming. I need to meet people. But I'm socially anxious, agoraphobic, and feel like a defective freak - so I hide from the world. Then I get extremely irritated that I'm alone.


Tweet 02. 
If anyone's out there - can you help me, please? I'm in a hellish prison of frustration, and I can't seem to escape. The feelings are SO INTENSE that it's non-stop suffering. And my anxieties and insecurities prevent me from changing. Someone, help! I'm trapped in hell.

Started

I'm frustrated and I want to get started in media, acting, comedy, screenwriting, videos - something artistic. Time is passing by. I'm 32 years old.

As you've seen, I've done internet art. I'm very talented.

But I'm beginning to panic and get desperate. How can I get started?



____
I've put a lot of time and energy into internet art but it's a dead end, and I need to let go. I've wasted so much time in my bedroom. The real world is scary. I blame my mother, say she's preventing me from entering the real world. But it's internal, not maternal. I'm to blame.

My Prison

I'm EXTREMELY frustrated, socially isolated, and alienated. Anxiety and agoraphobia prevent me from meeting new people. People from my past have moved on, and there is no secret Fairy Godmother, who'll save me. I like to blame my mother, but my prison is internal, not maternal.

Bare Account

I just got a message from a bare account. No name, no photo, no followers, and only following me.


It's fun imagining these "people" are celebrities undercover, or an old friend, or someone looking to hire me.


The mystery and fantasy are fun. But I usually discover they're just cyberbullies looking to hurt me.


Nope, not playing that game again. I learned my lesson. Interaction is a bad idea.

Headaches

I'm fairly certain the years of stress and frustration have given me an illness in my brain. Not just mental illness, something life threatening - like cancer or an aneurysm. I sit in my room with throbbing headaches from stress, this can't be good. I'm afraid I'm going to die.

They say social isolation is more toxic to your health than smoking a pack of cigarettes a day. And I've been isolated in HELL for YEARS.

Fantasyland

I hide from the chaos at home in an inner-fantasyland. I'm told to "get a job", "go to recovery groups". But I'm anxious and afraid to be in the real world. I'd rather live in a daydream. But when my mom can no longer enable the dream world, then what?

shackles

Tweet 01
I'm very dependent on my mother. Does she have me in shackles? Do I want to remain in shackles? Maybe a little bit of both? I know I'm capable of accomplishing great success. I need to stop waiting for my fairy godmother to grant my wishes. I need to make my life happen.



Tweet 02
It's so sad that I wasted so much time, depending on people, waiting for someone to rescue me. I lost my teenage years, my twenties, now even the beginning of my thirties. I have to live my own life and stop letting my mom keep me in shackles.



UPDATE Tweet:
I said in previous posts that my mom keeps me in shackles. According to my psychiatrist, that's actually not true. Fear of the real world and anxiety are my shackles. My mom encourages me to get a job, join clubs, go on dating websites. The shackles are inner anxiety.

Dependence

I said, basically, if no savior rescues me. When my mom gets older, I'm screwed.

My psychiatrist said, without knowing it, I'm expressing I do not feel I can depend on myself.

It's a very serious situation. But I know I can do it. I must stop waiting for someone to rescue me.

the internet fantasyland

I have a friend named Ed, who I rarely see, but I still consider him a friend. He opened me up artistically. I began writing, creating "music", videos, and drawing because of him.

I was posting on a music forum from 2008 - 2013, with and without him. I was LOUD and disturbing. Though, funny and charming too. I did the same thing on wrestling forums, on twitter, through e-mails, to doctors. I was REALLY attention-grabbing.

On the internet, I've interacted with many people throughout the years. Some good, some bad, some in-between. Many of these people I don't know in real life, they're not Artificial Intelligence. They exist. Do they still look at my profiles? Have they moved on? Do I have a guardian angel and fairy godmother who'll grant my wishes when the time is right?

I'm told I'm living in a fantasy land. No one's making my movie, documentary, book, whatever it is. I have to make it. But I KNOW my saviors are out there, watching me, ghosting me. It's almost mysterious and eerie. All evidence shows they've moved on, and I'm forgotten about. But I don't believe it. There was magic, I know it.

I need to leave my room, live in the real world. But there's something so alluring about the internet fantasyland. But it can't last forever. And when my mother gets older, I'm headed for a fall. No one is going to catch me besides the floor.

modern masterpiece

I'm aiming to be the greatest artist that's ever existed - better than Shakespeare, better than Bach, better than van Gogh, and so on.

Obviously, I can't do it alone. Maybe acquiring "Team What It Is" as friends are the boost I need to begin the artistic masterpiece.

It feels like my parents can't see, my doctor's can't see, most of my friends can't see, no one can see how BIG this is going to be. They underestimate how HUGE it is. It'll be an absolute modern masterpiece.

Join "Team What It Is" now before the train leaves the station.

"Internet Fans" - Team What It Is

Friday night, I met some "internet fans", who discovered me from my YouTube channel, at Miller's Ale House. I'll address the first thing that's on your mind... no, I didn't drink. I only ate mini cheeseburgers and had Perrier sparkling water.

But seriously, I've had some problems with cyberbullies on my YouTube channel. But they seem like good people, with good intentions. I find it suspicious that they live so close and just happened to discover me. I was imagining one of my friends set the whole thing up. But for now, it's just a coincidence. 

I told my Mom I was going on a date with a woman. And although one of them is a cute woman, it's not true. She's doesn't appear interested in me and there was also a man there. They're about my age. We are all young, college educated, professionals. Miller's is a sports bar. I should've chosen a different place to meet.

They LOVE my videos. We discussed medication and psychiatry, as my YouTube channel is heavily about these topics.

We have plans to start a YouTube channel of our own. They'll participate, we'll be called "Team What It Is". We already have an idea for a skit:

The guy offered to pay for me at Miller's. And I'm like: no, take a 20 dollar bill. But he insisted.  Now I don't know if I should pay for him next time. What's appropriate?

I thought a video where I go on a date with a woman, she expects me to pay, and I want her to pay half, would be funny.

Or, I'm out with friends, and the waiter forgets to separate the bill. So we're doing the math and nobody can figure out who owes what. 

Basically, just a video about how checks can be annoying. 

We had a good time and we plan to see each other next Friday. Maybe someplace better than Miller's. They seem like good people with good intentions. Don't worry. 

Waiting For Godot

I don't need coddling and preparation for my inevitable fame and fortune. I WANT it to be thrust upon me NOW. I want to be overwhelmed, swept away. The chaos from fame couldn't be worse than this HELLISH home environment. In fact, it would probably save me long-term.

My parents and doctors would likely tell me my art isn't grandiose and genius. I use the famous fantasy so I don't have to focus on social anxiety, agoraphobia, and living in the real world. I believe a video will save me. But it's never going to happen. It's like waiting for Godot - something that'll never arrive.

A video won't save me. No person is going to save me. I'm not a celebrities son. People from the past have moved on. Again, I'm waiting for Godot. I need to live in the real world.

HELP!!!!!!!!!!!... but I have to help myself. :(

The "Save Me" Fantasy

My biggest fantasy is expecting someone to come into my life and save me. It takes many forms, but it's the same concept.

1) Disney hired me for a movie.

2) Taylor Swift knows who I am.

3) Billy Joel or Syd Barrett is my biological father.

4) My doctors are going to rescue me.

5) An old friend, an ex-girlfriend, or acquaintance is going to return and save me.

6) Someone, anyone is going to save me.

It would be nice if my life was just delivered to me and I didn't have to do any work. The truth is, I have to save myself. No one else will.

Our home environment is chaotic, I'm constantly walking on eggshells and shaking. I'm used to my Mom spoon feeding me my life. If I hate it at home, then LEAVE MY ROOM... right?! I have bad social anxiety and agoraphobia. The Middle and High School bullying really damaged me, it taught me the real world wasn't safe, so I remain in my room.

I've lost my teenage years, my 20's, I'm now 31 years old - I don't want to lose my 30's too. I need to take control of my life, get independent. SOMEONE HELP... but I need to help myself.

Syd Barrett - Biological Father?

After making a lot of posts about Syd Barrett yesterday, I started to get the delusion that he is my Biological father since I look a lot like him, and we both suffer from a mental illness.


...But then I began to realize how ridiculous that sounds. Lol.


Papi is my Father!

Extreme Social Anxiety

I was severely bullied as a child and this shapes how I perceive the world.



I think of myself as a Borat / Dumb and Dumber like character. Meaning, I'm a complete joke to be made fun of. I also think everyone is hostile, about to make fun of me. So I walk on eggshells in the real world.



Today, I heard someone who doesn't like me, say, "he's like Borat" and everyone laughed. His comment could've been about anyone. But I thought it must've been about me. In a way, it's like I'm hallucinating. In my conscious mind, I feel like "Borat". So his comment is reaffirming how I feel about myself.



The reason I don't leave my room is extreme social anxiety. I'm scared of getting bullied. So I hide from it.



I often blame my parents, and think they're preventing my freedom. But that's not true. Take yesterday, for example, my mom was offering to pay for the comedy class, encouraging me to go. I was scared to go.



My mom isn't preventing me from meeting a woman. She paid for a Match membership. I'm afraid of women.



Since I'm scared of the real world, I tell myself the videos I make in my room are my ticket to freedom. Sadly, it's not and I've lost so much time.



Recovery will be pushing through the extreme anxiety, and living in the real world.



Contrary to what I feel, not everyone is going to bully me.

Mr. Hollywood AND Laugh about it

If I accepted the lost time, I'd be overtaken with sadness. So I tell myself people care, I live in a fantasy world. Because I'd be too depressed otherwise.



It's easier to get through your days thinking you're Mr. Hollywood, instead of NO ONE CARES. "



Mr. Hollywood" protects me.



_______________



My life and what happened to me is EXTREMELY SAD. But I make it one big joke, and laugh about everything. I guess it's easier than crying about it.



I'm not sure if this is healthy?

Beanstalk

I think it's inevitable my seeds will grow into a beanstalk. I'm just planting more, and more before I hit the "START BUTTON". Maybe I'll get mentally stable first. Lol.

WHAT IT IS!

I hate when people think they're superior to me. For example: people working in a pizzeria, laughing at me because I'm unwell. 

I shine so much brighter than the people making fun of me. Soon they'll see. I'm gonna be Mr. Hollywood and karma will work in my favor. 

WHAT IT IS!

Stepdad

It's HELL living with my stepdad, he's the most miserable man on the face of the Earth. I want instantaneous freedom from a sensational video going viral, then I become rich and famous. But real world freedom is more like building a house, and I haven't even begun construction.



While living in the horrible home environment, should I begin the slow journey to real world freedom?



Or should I continue to make sensational videos where I scream like a lunatic? If I increase the intensity, pretty soon I'll be unable to be ignored.



And when one of my videos inevitably goes viral, I expect it to start a chain reaction, and all my art gets discovered. Then I'll become Mr. Hollywood - and I can't wait for the madness that follows. Lol.

always fighting

My Mom and Stepdad are always fighting. They're never in a good mood. I know you're not allowed to record someone without them knowing, but OH MY GOD I WANT TO DO SOMETHING - like post their shouting online. Or make an attention-grabbing sensational video to make myself successful.

walking on eggshells

In my psychiatry session today, my Mom said she feels like she's walking on eggshells. I can't see how she could possibly mean that. Is she lying?

I feel like I AM the one who is walking on eggshells, not them. It's like I'm bullied into submission by my stepdad. I'm always "on stage", afraid to move or say the wrong thing out of fear he'll get hostile with me. I'm too intimated to assert myself. So I hide in my room.

I had such a good session today, was so positive. Then I go home, my stepdad starts yelling like a lunatic. I forget about the free world and go into my fantasy land. I want to make videos where I SCREAM OUT MY PAIN!!!!!!

Then my mom blames everything on me, never see's my point of view. He's the reason I'm so sick. There's no place to relax and have peace and quiet. 

I just wish he'd go away. That'd solve a lot of my problems.

Free World

I feel like my parents, especially my mom, are preventing me from entering the free world. But the truth is, they’re just preventing my delusional "free world".

I believe Disney is going to hire me, Taylor Swift and Billy Joel know who I am, and one of my videos will go viral, it’ll start a chain reaction where everything gets discovered, and I’ll be an overnight success. This will set me free, and my mom is blocking that because she’s a monster. It’s a delusion.

What the free world really is… it’s ACCESS VR, the Fountain House, support groups, Uber, comedy in NYC, acting. But that causes me great anxiety. I’m afraid of getting bullied and judged critically, and I don't like change. So I run from it. Needless to say, my mom's NOT preventing this. Basically, I'm lost in delusions. It protects me from extreme sadness.

I blame my parents. But it’s really my own anxiety and illness that are to blame. My mom is very supportive.

My mom is trying to protect me from getting even sicker, that's why she's blocking me. I like when my Mom and Step Dad are out of the house because I have freedom. She's afraid with too much freedom, I'll just make videos all day. But my mom won't be around forever to protect me. Her health is getting worse. I must enter the REAL free world, and not the delusional "free world", before it's too late. Because if my mom becomes unable to help me, I may get sick.

Plastic Fork

I'm going to give you an example of predicate logic.



Today, my father brought Chinese food to the house for us to eat. I noticed him looking at the forks, then selecting a specific fork for me. But I thought nothing of it at the time.



Then a few hours later, I saw a post on social media of an internet friend eating Chinese food and he's holding up a plastic fork that looked identical to mine.
.


My mine stated to run wild. I began to think my dad poisoned and sabotaged the fork by rubbing it in a urinal or something.



Basically, I think my celebrity fairy godmother is watching my dad at all times. And saw him come out of CVS's bathroom holding my plastic fork.



When I accused my dad, he asked me if I was joking. Had no idea what I was talking about, then said no he didn't.



I thought a photograph on social media that had nothing to do with me, was a message telling me my father poisoned me. It was a delusion.

Like Vietnam

My Dad (Bob K.) came over our house for the New Year, he joked it's "like Vietnam." He was referring to something on the TV. It might be predicate logic. But I think he was saying to my Mom, living with my Step Dad is like living as a Vietnam prisoner. And I'm the prisoner, obviously. 

My Mom also said at one point, "I'm hot." I thought she gets sadistic pleasure from my suffering. But then I realized I'm sexually frustrated and repressed. And it's predicate logic. 

"I'm hot" was referring to the temperature - nothing more. 

Basically, I need to meet friends, a woman and have sex. Maybe I will in 2019!