The thread for flipping shits (and tables)

Well, it's been a fair few days since my life fell apart. Typing this now, I seem awfully well adjusted and perfectly calm, right? Not about to sit for a full half an hour just staring into space whispering 'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you' for no one to hear?

-=-=-=-

Sorry. I spaced out for a bit there. I don't think I can keep writing.

-=-=-=-

I came out to my parents.

It didn't go well.

-=-=-=-

My parents, being conservative christians, i suppose you could say they flipped out? But honestly they took it pretty calmly. And then they prayed. And then they said, 'Don't worry, we'll find some way to cure you.'

-=-=-=-

That was fun.

-=-=-=-

/me INT. DAY. A painting on the wall, depicting a road vanishing into the horizon. Halfway to the vanishing point, day turns abruptly into night, and streetlamps flare into being a little way further down the road from this terminator. There is a figure kneeling in the road just beyond Day and just into Night, but before the lamps have been lighted. Its head is in its hands. A suitcase lies, toppled over, on the road next to the figure, heavily battered and worn. It looks like a heavy burden, but the figure will not leave its side. The painting, being a painting, does not move.

-=-=-=-

Ahahahaha, you all think I'm being stupid, or surrealist! A bloody liberal arts student! I'm an engineer! An engineer! We're not supposed to have any imagination!

-=-=-=-

I suppose I'm not in the best of ways. You know what the worst part is?

-=-=-=-

Better go back to the beginning.

i

-=-=-=-

Well, Mother dearest just called me in for a chat. She tells me she's sorry for not raising me right or figuring out there was something wrong with me. 'Don't worry. You'll be all right. We'll find a way to make this right.'

I don't know what's worse, this conviction that there's something wrong with me, or the conviction that it's her fault. It's not. It has nothing to do with the way I was raised.

-=-=-=-

Writing this is taking longer than I expected. Or maybe I expected this all along.

I wasn't going to tell them. Ever. Maybe one day, when I was fully independent. Fucking churchgoers. Tipped them off. Took it upon themselves to report an immorality and cleanse an innocent of their sin. Fucking holy men. Holier-than-thou men, more like.

Yes, I am Etiyr. SURPRISE!

Praying's easy once you get the knack of it!

1) Close your eyes
2) Say things and mean them!
3) ???
4) PROFIT!

Or, in reality:

4) Subscribe whatever happens next to divine will, much in the manner of observational bias and/or gambler's fallacy, and have fun in heaven.

Fairly sure heaven would be a place where you'd be brainwashed to desire nothing else in existence but to worship Our Glorious Creator. Then again, you can only get into heaven if your only desire is that in the first place, so way to dodge a human rights bullet, heaven? You must have some sick lawyers ahahahaha yeah, no.

Getting sidetracked. Maybe I don't want to talk about this after all.

-=-=-=-

INT. DAY. A chair, not unlike a dentist's, but without the blinding light above. The fixture is there, but it appears that the bulb and reflector have been torn out, and frayed wires have been crudely spliced into an unpleasant dome-shaped helmet. Two DOCTORS, muttering soothing words: 'remember, this is for your own good,' 'you'll be better after this,' escorting a clearly-drugged AGEN, who moves in a stumbling stupor. Even so, getting the subject into the chair and strapped down is a challenge, as despite the DOCTORS' urgings AGEN obviously is resisting with as much strength as can be mustered. The DOCTORS prevail, however, and the subject is restrained without much furor.

DOCTOR

This might hurt a tiny bit, but remember, dear, this will make you all better.

The device is lowered onto AGEN's head. One DOCTOR switches on a console where the dentist's tools would have hung. A buzzing fills the room. The other DOCTOR looks into AGEN's eyes.

DOCTOR

Now, what's normal?

AGEN

I am! There's nothing wrong with-

The DOCTOR at the console flicks a switch. AGEN yelps.

AGEN

I'm not abnormal! This has nothing to do with normal and-

A turn of a knob; the flick of a switch again. AGEN twitches with the jolt this time, arms twisting in their leather restraints.

DOCTOR[losing all pretense of gentleness]

Don't make this hard on yourself. What's normal?

AGEN

[in between gasps]Gender - conformation - has nothing - to do with normality! Can't you understand that? Why can't you-

AGEN screams this time.

-=-=-=-

Maybe that's not what aversion therapy will be like. Maybe it'll be all rainbows and puppies and definitely not a method of torture routinely used for brainwashing. Maybe it'll never come up! Maybe they don't do that anymore!

I sure as fuck am not going to find out.

-=-=-=-

so alone

-=-=-=-

When you live in a place where everyone you know is connected to you by tenuous strings of electronic communication, and no one can reach out and save you, and all you can do is try to save yourself...

Tell me that's not showing independence, mother, father.

-=-=-=-

So now I'm here in HK, away from uni in Australia, with my summer semester ticking down and semester 1 starting in a month.

My parents have no intention of sending me back. They want me here, under their looking-glass and thumb, with their chloroform and drawing pins, electroshock and therapists. They want me here, where they can prod and poke me until they're satisfied I'll never be abnormal, or unique, ever again.

They have no intention of letting me complete my degree, or allowing me to have a future.

Every day will be like the last, identical but worse.

That's no life at all.

That's not a life worth living.

I'm so very close to convincing myself not to bother.

-=-=-=-

You know what the worst thing is? To trap me, to get me to fly away from anyone who could or would help me, and trap me in the country where I have had no one, no allies, no friends nor support systems save the family I can no longer trust, they told me that my grandmother was sick.

She's fine.

They lied.
they lied.
they lied
they lied
they lied
they lied
they lied
can't
can't
can't trust they lied they lied they lied to me they abused my love my trust they abused it, what, do they think i betrayed theirs by not telling them that i was different from their visions of perfect offspring? how could i tell them? i'd rather they have died not knowing! they lied they lied to me they lied they lied can't trust them can't trust them anymore nothing they say can be taken at its face value got to dig deep and then you realize the whole rotten core of intolerance and prejudice they lied they lied they lied they lied they lied they lied they took what hope i had and they're destroying it they lied they lied they lied they lied they can't they did they shouldn't they did they wouldn't they did they betrayed me they lied they lied they lied they lied