The Life Story of a Teenage Criminal

I was born to two extremely troubled individuals. The father never spoke much to me, and (according to my mother) she touched my ** before I even turned 8 because she "found touching her child's cute ** comforting." She also showered me despite my apparent knowledge of how to *wash my body without her putting olive oil to moisturize my skin.* Despite a repeated effort to make my discomfort known, she seemingly ignored it. My father made it quite clear that I was not wanted until we went to a psychiatrist because my antisocial behavior and high intelligence made a troubling combination at school, in which case he would make the same point; "high intelligence, but lazy." Because the conversations between my parents were started with my dad bragging about some irrelevant ** to my mother, and then she reacted in a fit of rage, and they immediately started arguing at the top of their lungs, I annoyed people because I thought that was what humor was. My anxiety was misdiagnosed with autism (though I was diagnosed with high-functioning ADHD) and I was frequently bullied/excluded at school by the majority of the classmates (of which some would sympathize), facilitated or even encouraged. My mother would respond to these behavioral problems with extensive physical abuse, and sometimes my brother was too busy with his high school to stop her like he used to on occasion. She'd slap me in the face, pinch my thighs, sometimes knee me in the **. When I got older, this happened less frequently but more severely. She might even have thrown things at me. She threatened to call 911 or kick me out of the house if I complained too much, and quite literally constantly insulted my intelligence and grades (she's Indian, this is a recurring theme). After a while, I couldn't take it and I tried to kill myself because I thought I wasn't good enough. I was transported to a psychiatric hospital and stayed there for 3 months (because I was depressed to the point of having hallucinations, but couldn't accurately describe them, as I was a literal ** 8 year old). Those hallucinations were fictional monsters from the internet, because they were a watered-down, metaphorical version of the demons in my life (as dumb as it sounds, monsters like Freddy from FNaF or Jeff the Killer). I got expelled from this school and switched to a private school, in which I had much warmer interpersonal relationships with my classmates and teachers, despite getting having conduct problems being a persistent pattern. Other than that, I was quiet (to the point of teachers at times forgetting about giving me worksheets and getting apologetic) and well-behaved and teachers liked me. I displayed an extreme interest in math and intellectual topics. After 4th grade, my parents moved to a public elementary school in which I would frequently engage in conflicts with my peers because of a lack of social skills. The physical abuse was somewhat less frequent (would happen any time my mom got mad, which was caused by things like me feeling discontent when she'd scream, not licking the plate after eating to waste no food, spills even as small as a crumb, not spending the whole day on work, my dad disagreeing with her, etc. etc.) My brother entered high school and started exhibiting sociopathic traits (lack of emotional expression, gambling and marijuana usage which persists to this day, irritability/hostility, extreme physical aggression towards me to cope with his stress, including punching me until I choked on my nosebleed, and fracturing my elbow on accident because I hugged my mom to save her when he pushed her, what a ** waste). The verbal abuse worsened too, getting louder and lasting longer. But as I entered the 6th grade, they got more apathetic and my mom verbally abused me for having poor grades, regardless of what my grades really were. My classmates found out that I was self-harming, as I had 40 scars from a serrated steak knife on each forearm (both sides). Lack of social skills was still a problem, and others considered me extremely mentally unhealthy, obnoxious, and antisocial. I was sent to a psychiatric hospital, where I frequently got into verbal altercations with another patient because I was annoying as ** and he was impatient (mainly the former). When I got out, absolutely nothing was treated because I had no clue that my family was abusive, so I listened to rappers like XXXTENTACION and tried to get intoxicated with anything I could find (alcohol, sometimes I'd abuse my Ritalin/Concerta to get high, obscene amounts of NyQuil, I tried to sneak 5 opiate pills to school, and my mom screamed while I laughed). I met another kid, and we agreed to shoplift alcohol from Target. I didn't get caught the first time (wine), but when we stole a Smirnoff and drank it whole, we got caught and they threw me under the bus while the police questioned us in the principal's office. My case was sent to a probation officer who decided my punishment was to read "Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teenagers" by Sean Covey Jr. and write a 7-8 paragraph essay in 1 week (I didn't have schoolwork). COVID settled in, lockdown happened, online classes, and it was the summer before 8th grade. My father realized that I was intellectually gifted and that he could use this as an opportunity to teach me basic competitive math (algebra, geometry, number theory, combinatorics, mainly the latter two). I became a workaholic who either did homework, did this math, worked out, or studied for the test tomorrow. I developed an interest in anime. I also started swimming competitively. It was at this time I began exhibiting callous and unemotional traits and slowly became more manipulative. Towards the end of the year, my concentration declined (despite my grades being alright) and I complained about being overworked, to which my parents mocked me for the entire summer. 9th grade hit me pretty ** hard, I developed high-functioning personality disorders due to excessive workaholism (studying all day caused my grades to decline because my brain and concentration were completely exhausted), and since my classmates did less work and scored better than me (they weren't smarter, they just had more mental energy), all the resentment in my life was brought up and directed at my classmates. These attitudes were fueled by my dad giving me ideas like "nobody cares about you as much as you think they do," and "everybody is lying about working less than you so they can lull you into sleeping 8 hours a day, while they're staying up, working, and scoring high. That's how the game works." He doesn't believe that the mind gets tired and instead believed I was lazy and weak for getting tired after such little work and even getting 8 hours of sleep a day (this was the maximum I was allowed). I started losing memories of my childhood. A "friend" in school suggested her physical touch was the solution, including pressing her chest against me and pressing my ** against her stomach while she hugged me, despite me saying I was uncomfortable. When I entered 10th grade, I started watching videos of people getting tortured or killed that I'd find on Reddit to amuse and placate myself. I fought much harder to barely avoid C grades, and admitted myself into a psychiatric hospital, where I got diagnosed with PTSD, ADHD, and GAD (the secondary psychiatrist said I had depression as well). The medications they gave wore out quickly and I became more reserved (albeit quite glib), had bold behavior (sat on the rails of the second floor because I was bored, my legs were dangling off, sexting with strangers while they thought I was 19 sending nudes they ask for), aggression (lighting fires in trash cans, torturing and killing birds, threatening people) and expressing my Machiavellian ideas to my teachers. I was tested by the neuropsychologist that said I have ADHD and good analytical skills, but poor attention and reading comprehension. Social skills were no longer a problem, in fact I was a fun person to talk to. A family services company (the one that took me to any mental hospital I've been to) came home and recommended that I go to a residential living home for mentally ill teens, and so I went to a psychiatric hospital 2 hours north of where I live. Through social engineering and subtle manipulation (convinced a trans boy that a big guy accidentally misgendering him was suppressed transphobia instead of an honest mistake and convinced him to loosen his control on his anger in that regard, then made that big guy have an identity crisis about whether his self-control is fear of his anger, and whether or not he is that fear or that anger), the whole unit was crying and screaming because stuffed animals got taken away, and I tried to get that trans boy to kill the big guy (trans boy was muttering "I'm gonna kill someone" over and over again). I got discharged to a residential (psychiatric group home for teens), where I tried to talk about my sociopathy, but got shot down because the other kids felt betrayed because they trusted me and I pretended to care (not my fault that they felt that way or got duped, which this isn't even that big of a scam). And the other kids were talking about something like "what are you gonna do if he came here with a knife," so I told the staff about my homicidal impulses (I can't feel shame so I have to express my thoughts with immorality or aggression, not emotions) so they told me to throw ice cubes at, or hit the fence with a bat. The cops were called on me, so I spent 2 hours in the night running away through barbed wires, fences, horse wires, and presumably someone's abode all without glasses. On the other side of the county, they caught me and had 5 cop cars, one with 2 huge ** rifles (because they thought I might've been kidnapped, they couldn't be too careful). I was taken to an emergency room, then a hospital, and I am now a sociopath, at age 15-16. Monsters are real.

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