I guess I had always suffered from anxiety/depression but I didn’t know what to fucking call it. My mind was and continues to be like a jackhammer with an endless power supply. It tries and tries to pound away at the monotony and darkness that life can bring, but (as we all know), those two things often never go away. So, on my mind would race–to stress me out and fuck up my sleeping patterns and dreams. It was so active that even when I was asleep, it was awake (sleep paralysis).
So what else do you do with an overactive, worry-prone, anxious ass mind? You either drink to slow it down or you use the shit out of it.
International Baccalaureate high school diploma. Undergraduate degree finished in three years. Graduate degree finished in one and a half. Goddamn. Slow down? Nope, I couldn’t. Life events all around were threatening to wring me dry, but I did my best to ignore them, bury my feelings and keep trudging.
Middle school was filled with self-hate and a homophobic church. High school was filled with me finally accepting myself but living with a family who wasn’t fond of that gay shit. The end of high school/beginning of college was dominated by a nasty divorce between my parents. My father remains a rodent-like douchebag who shitted on his whole family for almost two decades and to this day blames everyone else. He treated my mother, his own wife, like she was dirt and did the same to my brother, sister, and me.
In college I loved (or maybe was in love with) my best friend Chris. He saw me enter graduate school. We honestly lived together after a while. We were emotionally in sync, (probably dangerously so). We’d smile and laugh together, but we’d also cry for hours together too–about nothing in particular. I guess we both could relate to each other’s sorrow. I guess we both were in bad mental places. One day I returned (to his apartment) to him hanging in a doorframe. A friend gone. My heart and home smashed.
Then came a nasty breakup. My stupid ex had my nudes and apartment address flying everywhere online. He threatened to send some pics to my mother’s job. He used the trauma of Chris against me. I still have the screenshots.
But at the same time, I was in grad school. I had papers to grade. I had a job to show up to. I had the growing AdrianXpression brand to take care of. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! Keep going. It’ll pay off. Don’t slow down.
There are no words in any language that could possibly describe the tears and pain and heartache and emptiness that I had to endure while also cranking out quality research papers, teaching, giving presentations, and smiling in front of a camera for my channel. It was Hell on Earth. I had died even while still alive (kind of like that sleep paralysis thing).
If you’re looking for a happy ending, I’m not sure I have one. I graduated twice and my brand has given me lovable, amazing supporters and more financial freedom. Both of these things are due to my inhuman ambition levels and my anxious/overactive mind. But honestly, I’ve just started my life (hopefully). What the fuck else is in store? Will my anxiety get worse? Where did I put all these emotions that I’ve buried? What parts of my personality have I sacrificed and tranquilized to be able to survive this craziness? How much longer before the walls I built start to crack?
I’m not sure. I’m sure it’ll catch up to me. But for now, I have a video to edit.