Perfectly imperfect

So a couple months ago I had quite the run in with some untreated mental health issues which made my childhood quite painful for reasons unknown at the time by myself, family and friends. Now I won’t give the exact diagnosis – but I feel that mental health is something the millennial generation will have to deal with head-on stemming from the circumstances, environments, and self imposed hurdles we present ourselves with.

For the better part of my childhood I struggled with drug abuse, loneliness, self harm and sexual identity briefly. I honestly wouldn’t take back a minute I struggled through that because it made it so I can wake up extremely happy every day forever on forth now – knowing I won the battle with myself. Because that’s truly all it ever was, two sides of me battling for dominance over a third. Interesting huh? Let’s delve into a little narrative I wrote about what it is like to be mentally ill.

One side of my mind is a highly experienced being whose has seen and done enough to solve most problems through functional intuition, but is prone to grandiose delusion when close to cracking the code. He is in a constant power struggle with his brother who uses brute force to get things done and make others perceive him as the superior one – his name is Pete. Pete has one life to live, and his clock is ticking down. He set out to achieve the goal of living forever like many before him did. To achieve this – he forcefully seized control of the mind him and his brother shared, and created a plan. But this angered his brother, and before he could take complete control – he told Pete the date he would die, and stopped speaking with him. Taking this as a challenge he would yell at himself in mirrors to motivate himself, cut & burn the beautiful body him and his brother were given to share, and then cry because he didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. Why couldn’t he move forward? He had a beautiful, creative human mind that he willingly put drugs into like a parking meter in hopes of augmented performance and suppression of the torture of loneliness. He thought for some time that the only way to end this was to secede from the mind altogether and create an artificial mind external his brother using purely technological means – but he had once read a text from long ago that told of a day when a machine had attained the ability to think, as his vessel very well may – but when it was tormented, it didn’t have eyes to cry from, or a mouth to scream from. Eternity in a psychological iron maiden.

Pete then understood it, that his only hope to live beyond his expiration date was to cooperate with his brother to create an external force capable of living on past his existence. He would surely die, but what he created didn’t have to. After he realized this, the long stalemate with his brother came to a close. They spoke, Pete cooked breakfast, and they sat at the table together and were merry. Pete’s brother was weak from years of torture, but he forgave his brother. Together they reflected on their life and then they got to recent times. Then he told Pete, we will both die together on that day – or maybe we might both just live forever. But the only way we can understand ourself is to create something external from us to provide feedback. The short answer was the answer most couples come to in this world, they would have children. But being they had only 1 male body – this wouldn’t work. They visited doctors, and the doctor’s said that unfortunately even a surrogate mother would not work to recreate a version of the mind they shared – because the substances Pete used corrupted vital genetic information making it highly unlikely they could reproduce at all, let alone have offspring that wouldn’t suffer from mental illness as well.

After contemplating a big longer they decided on a way to do it, they would build something together. Like Wilbur and Orville Wright, they would invent something that would transcend their lifetimes – it would be a logarithmic timeline for human history. To maintain accuracy on dates and times – it would leverage the bitcoin network’s blockchain. Now it just needed a name. Pete remembered a time when they were young and someone decided to call his brother “Bunkydoo” because of all the cool things he would do. Now Pete sat, and cried when he remembered this innocent moment from his past – for he too had a heart. He asked Bunkydoo, “Can we name it after you?” and they did.

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