I Don't Know What I'm Doing

[LloydRFerrer]

*Taps desk mindlessly before sighing*

Alright look, this is probably the first time I'm doing this, and... I don't really know what I'm doing.(I say probably because I simply don't remember ever turning to online chats for help, but who knows? My memory fails me at times.)

You see, contrary to what most people say in regards to opening up and being honest, I've actually been brought up on the pre-cognitive basis that doing something like "venting your stress" is a weakness, especially if you're a man.
I believe it's because of this upbringing, alongside many other factors, that I am pretty well completely divested of all hope and ambition for my future. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This is an introduction page, let me introduce myself before I get to the tedious parts of this topic.

My real name is Caleb. My pen name is Lloyd R. Ferrer, a name I use often when I work on my novels, or other pieces of creative writing(Technically it's my job but I can't say I'm a professional yet). I am 15 years old. I am a male(Obviously). I enjoy history, the arts, caring for my pets, and beating on people who's lives revolve around themselves, and that might sound like insult T-ball, but hey, I'm not one to shy away from a challenge. I was also adopted, and that'll play a part into what I'm going to explain later.
Alright, you know some basics. If anyone responds, I'd like to know some things about them as well - you know, even it out a bit.

I've heard that venting helps to clear the mind a bit, and I think that's what I really need at the moment considering that I might be close to a nervous breakdown due to several factoring reasons. I'll get to those reasons, just let me finish rambling eccentrically.
I suppose to start off, I can only really explain the current state I'm in, and we'll see what builds from there.

... For the past three months, I've been sleeping somewhere other than my (adoption)parents house, because it's easier that way. That's when I actually do get sleep. Over the years, anxiety has pushed me to the point of involuntary insomnia and night terrors, and I sometimes find myself staying awake for somewhere between 48-72 hours at any given time. I no longer talk to my parents either, as I am driven to believe that the toxic relationship we have can no longer bring any good to either of our lives. It's painful, but it's the way it is, and I don't really regret cutting them out of my life after all the drama they dragged me through.
I eat once every two days. I exercise by method of self infliction, the tactic being that you build endurance and strength by repeatedly hurting yourself until your body adapts to it and overcomes it; but I can't seem to find a reason as to why I exercise this way. I am irritable when someone confronts me. I'm prone to violence. I become irrational for no logical reason sometimes. I can't focus some days. I often feel the urge to protect, yet there is nothing to protect. I visit the shooting range more than the average teenager to practice target shooting and quick response actions with a variety of weapons. I do not trust people. I have a knack for independence which sometimes drags me down.
Worst off all I think, I am beginning to lose everyone in my life, and my empathy for people in general. My adoption parents, as mentioned before, are estranged, my adoption siblings have moved away, and have completely different mindsets anyways. I never knew my real parents, but I suspect they are dead or otherwise long gone as no one will tell me where or who they are and I can't even find them in civilian records myself. I have lost what few friends I have because their concern for my mental state has them believing that I'm a "school shooter" and thus they cannot associate themselves with me anymore because of peer pressure.

I used to have dreams for the future. Dreams where I could use my skills bring my biological family back to it's glory days, similar to the days when they were called "Ferrer." Now? I wake up with a headache, a couple cracked ribs, and a good reason to blow my head off with a shotgun, because I no longer find purpose in waking up at all. That's not say I am suicidal, I'm simply trying to make my point clear. Suicide just... Isn't in my DNA, I guess. To me, it isn't really an option, no matter how much I might joke about it.

I have nobody to care for, and through the gritty virtues of life I've discovered that my dreams of bringing honor to my family name doesn't matter to anyone. That I don't matter to anyone. I still push myself, in mind and body, every day. I still go to school. I still act responsible, and (mostly)rationally. But I no longer see the purpose behind it all.
I'm lost, and I don't see a way out. I'm not allowed to share these things with people. For one thing, I have no one to share them with, and even then I've been taught that any form of emotion is weak and selfish. I just hope that teaching makes me stronger instead of breaking me.

That's the current situation. Now for a bit of the past, which I believe has an even larger role in my obvious depressive traits.
I was born in Canada, to a mum who... really was unable to care for me due to severe social autism apparently. I don't remember all that too well, as I was only two when I was put in adoption, but according to social workers my mother was quite violent at times, and I apparently witnessed her beat up one of her boyfriends to a point where he had to be hospitalized. They don't know why - probably self-defense considering that the guy looked like a street thug, but I have no memory of the incident so who's to say what happened?
My father was never there. Never met him, not sure if I ever want to considering that he just left me mum to care for me when she clearly couldn't. Because of my early upbringing, I never learned to speak until I was 4, and even then I preferred not to, simply because it already seemed foreign to me by then. I was, though, writing at a grade 2 level and knew some pretty advanced stuff for a 4 year old ie. tying my shoes, doing laundry, cleaning up after myself, etc.

Adoption was either the best, or the worst thing after that. On one hand, being raised in a home with Christian values really helped to set me straight in some confusing points in life, but on the other hand, living with parents who treat you more like an experiment gone wrong than a son isn't too fun. And I'll have people know that despite the relationship with my adoption parents at the moment, I am still a strong Christian, and I have my reasons for that. Reasons that I'll keep to myself.

Relationships have been... Dodgy. I've only had two, and both went pretty similarly like this: I tell the girl I have feelings for her because I'm a straightforward person with the courage to just do that, the girl expresses similar feelings, we start dating.
I sacrifice tons for the girl, she tells me she no longer likes me in "that" way after like 4-6 months, I leave heartbroken and never speak to them again despite the fact that they say the usual "we can still be friends" bs.
I know that relationships when you're younger are usually sketchy like that, but it's already soured my opinion on dating, and... I'm just not interested anymore. Don't think I ever will be.

My recent life at school has just been great. Ever since half the class has discovered my training schedule, I've had to scrub "school shooter" off my locker every week or so with a brush. It hurts like hell to be called that, sure, but what's more prominent in my mind is why they bother doing it. If anyone actually bothered to ask me why I train, I would tell them the truth: The world isn't a friendly place. It needs cops and soldiers who know what they're doing, and if I'm going to be one or the other I might as well prepare.

I mention these things because they all add up to who I am as a person now.
In mind, I am determined, empathetic, and dutiful.
In heart, I am broken, soulless, and perhaps a little sociopathic.
I know I need help, but... my dignity means more to me than that. And I don't even know where I would turn to, no one's ever told me.

I'm still asking myself why I'm sharing this with strangers, and... I still don't know. Maybe I just need someone to listen to me. Maybe I need advice on how to get my life together. Who know? I'd welcome any words or suggestions that are given.

I need to go now. I have more to say, but I can leave that for another time.

(EDIT: Adding more content, because as I said I have more to say and what I had put down wasn't much to go off of when I read it over. Sorry.)

[Prycejosh1987]

*Taps desk mindlessly before sighing*

Alright look, this is probably the first time I'm doing this, and... I don't really know what I'm doing.(I say probably because I simply don't remember ever turning to online chats for help, but who knows? My memory fails me at times.)

You see, contrary to what most people say in regards to opening up and being honest, I've actually been brought up on the pre-cognitive basis that doing something like "venting your stress" is a weakness, especially if you're a man.
I believe it's because of this upbringing, alongside many other factors, that I am pretty well completely divested of all hope and ambition for my future. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This is an introduction page, let me introduce myself before I get to the tedious parts of this topic.

My real name is Caleb. My pen name is Lloyd R. Ferrer, a name I use often when I work on my novels, or other pieces of creative writing(Technically it's my job but I can't say I'm a professional yet). I am 15 years old. I am a male(Obviously). I enjoy history, the arts, caring for my pets, and beating on people who's lives revolve around themselves, and that might sound like insult T-ball, but hey, I'm not one to shy away from a challenge. I was also adopted, and that'll play a part into what I'm going to explain later.
Alright, you know some basics. If anyone responds, I'd like to know some things about them as well - you know, even it out a bit.

I've heard that venting helps to clear the mind a bit, and I think that's what I really need at the moment considering that I might be close to a nervous breakdown due to several factoring reasons. I'll get to those reasons, just let me finish rambling eccentrically.
I suppose to start off, I can only really explain the current state I'm in, and we'll see what builds from there.

... For the past three months, I've been sleeping somewhere other than my (adoption)parents house, because it's easier that way. That's when I actually do get sleep. Over the years, anxiety has pushed me to the point of involuntary insomnia and night terrors, and I sometimes find myself staying awake for somewhere between 48-72 hours at any given time. I no longer talk to my parents either, as I am driven to believe that the toxic relationship we have can no longer bring any good to either of our lives. It's painful, but it's the way it is, and I don't really regret cutting them out of my life after all the drama they dragged me through.
I eat once every two days. I exercise by method of self infliction, the tactic being that you build endurance and strength by repeatedly hurting yourself until your body adapts to it and overcomes it; but I can't seem to find a reason as to why I exercise this way. I am irritable when someone confronts me. I'm prone to violence. I become irrational for no logical reason sometimes. I can't focus some days. I often feel the urge to protect, yet there is nothing to protect. I visit the shooting range more than the average teenager to practice target shooting and quick response actions with a variety of weapons. I do not trust people. I have a knack for independence which sometimes drags me down.
Worst off all I think, I am beginning to lose everyone in my life, and my empathy for people in general. My adoption parents, as mentioned before, are estranged, my adoption siblings have moved away, and have completely different mindsets anyways. I never knew my real parents, but I suspect they are dead or otherwise long gone as no one will tell me where or who they are and I can't even find them in civilian records myself. I have lost what few friends I have because their concern for my mental state has them believing that I'm a "school shooter" and thus they cannot associate themselves with me anymore because of peer pressure.

I used to have dreams for the future. Dreams where I could use my skills bring my biological family back to it's glory days, similar to the days when they were called "Ferrer." Now? I wake up with a headache, a couple cracked ribs, and a good reason to blow my head off with a shotgun, because I no longer find purpose in waking up at all. That's not say I am suicidal, I'm simply trying to make my point clear. Suicide just... Isn't in my DNA, I guess. To me, it isn't really an option, no matter how much I might joke about it.

I have nobody to care for, and through the gritty virtues of life I've discovered that my dreams of bringing honor to my family name doesn't matter to anyone. That I don't matter to anyone. I still push myself, in mind and body, every day. I still go to school. I still act responsible, and (mostly)rationally. But I no longer see the purpose behind it all.
I'm lost, and I don't see a way out. I'm not allowed to share these things with people. For one thing, I have no one to share them with, and even then I've been taught that any form of emotion is weak and selfish. I just hope that teaching makes me stronger instead of breaking me.

That's the current situation. Now for a bit of the past, which I believe has an even larger role in my obvious depressive traits.
I was born in Canada, to a mum who... really was unable to care for me due to severe social autism apparently. I don't remember all that too well, as I was only two when I was put in adoption, but according to social workers my mother was quite violent at times, and I apparently witnessed her beat up one of her boyfriends to a point where he had to be hospitalized. They don't know why - probably self-defense considering that the guy looked like a street thug, but I have no memory of the incident so who's to say what happened?
My father was never there. Never met him, not sure if I ever want to considering that he just left me mum to care for me when she clearly couldn't. Because of my early upbringing, I never learned to speak until I was 4, and even then I preferred not to, simply because it already seemed foreign to me by then. I was, though, writing at a grade 2 level and knew some pretty advanced stuff for a 4 year old ie. tying my shoes, doing laundry, cleaning up after myself, etc.

Adoption was either the best, or the worst thing after that. On one hand, being raised in a home with Christian values really helped to set me straight in some confusing points in life, but on the other hand, living with parents who treat you more like an experiment gone wrong than a son isn't too fun. And I'll have people know that despite the relationship with my adoption parents at the moment, I am still a strong Christian, and I have my reasons for that. Reasons that I'll keep to myself.

Relationships have been... Dodgy. I've only had two, and both went pretty similarly like this: I tell the girl I have feelings for her because I'm a straightforward person with the courage to just do that, the girl expresses similar feelings, we start dating.
I sacrifice tons for the girl, she tells me she no longer likes me in "that" way after like 4-6 months, I leave heartbroken and never speak to them again despite the fact that they say the usual "we can still be friends" bs.
I know that relationships when you're younger are usually sketchy like that, but it's already soured my opinion on dating, and... I'm just not interested anymore. Don't think I ever will be.

My recent life at school has just been great. Ever since half the class has discovered my training schedule, I've had to scrub "school shooter" off my locker every week or so with a brush. It hurts like hell to be called that, sure, but what's more prominent in my mind is why they bother doing it. If anyone actually bothered to ask me why I train, I would tell them the truth: The world isn't a friendly place. It needs cops and soldiers who know what they're doing, and if I'm going to be one or the other I might as well prepare.

I mention these things because they all add up to who I am as a person now.
In mind, I am determined, empathetic, and dutiful.
In heart, I am broken, soulless, and perhaps a little sociopathic.
I know I need help, but... my dignity means more to me than that. And I don't even know where I would turn to, no one's ever told me.

I'm still asking myself why I'm sharing this with strangers, and... I still don't know. Maybe I just need someone to listen to me. Maybe I need advice on how to get my life together. Who know? I'd welcome any words or suggestions that are given.

I need to go now. I have more to say, but I can leave that for another time.

(EDIT: Adding more content, because as I said I have more to say and what I had put down wasn't much to go off of when I read it over. Sorry.)

Let the past go and press onto your future.