pwndcake

I was raised on stories of heroes. Tales of mutants, outcasts, and the unfortunate granted the ability to change lives for the better are the mythology of my youth. Protecting the weak and standing up for ideals in the face of horror, even for those who don't appreciate the effort, this is what I grew up believing was right.

These tales still colors my perception, even as I fail to live up to their demands. My interest now is survival, and I've been told I'm good at that. Even though I have succeeded at living through some fucked up circumstance, I can't help but feel that unless I accomplish something more heroic then being able to fend for myself, I have failed. Part of the medical community is dedicated to helping people dealing with being failures. There are drugs to take, people to talk to, and all sorts of time-wasting distractions to help numb the pain of feeling your hard-won survival was a waste of time.

I stopped taking the drugs. I declined the social-workers and the shrinks. Now if I can pry myself away from Knights of the Old Republic 2 (thanks Shal ) and rebroadcasts of Deadwood long enough to reestablish contact with the outside world, I may be able to shake these blues. It's my understanding that the longer you numb yourself to your life, the harder it becomes to change it. And although I may not be the greatest example of someone changing their life for the better, this part of my life has to change.