Hey guys. As I've said a few times already throughout the forum, I just got through dealing with the worst two months of my entire life. Because of a stupid mistake and horrible action I took. I actually got in trouble with the law because of it, and for quite some time, alienated much of my family. I was forced to live with my father, who was resentful towards me because of it and actually believed that he
shouldn't, let me say that again,
shouldn't show me any compassion or kindness, simply because of what I did. I found myself completely isolated from the world, as for a long time during this period, I wasn't going to school nearly at all, and so the only person I interracted with was him. I had his three cats as well, but with that severe isolation, my mind began to destabilize itself, and I grew increasingly unstable and depressed. I had never felt depression that deep in my entire life, and it had never lasted that long. In my previous depressive episodes, it relatively wasn't that bad, and it rarely lasted for more than a couple days.
This time though, I was in such a deep, dark place that I was literally going insane, something I had never truly experienced before, and I was beginning to take on a lot of traits I didn't like. I started looking at pornographic images on the Internet to help fill the void that was being created, and it actually did help me cope, but it still wasn't enough [when I look at porn, its to use it as a coping mechanism for problems I'm dealing with, usually loneliness, not just to satisfy my libido].
To actually describe my emotions, first, I'd have anyone trying to understand them listen to this musical piece, the Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, which when I was in that state, was the musical piece I felt best captured the emotions I was feeling,
Moonlight Sonata
Then, I would say that it definitely qualified as despair, and even
that word I doubt is strong enough to truly describe it. It was an all-consuming feeling of sadness and hopelessness, of guilt, shame, and self-hatred. I've always dealt with issues of low self-esteem and self-hatred, but this incident magnified those feelings to the point that I literally felt like the self-hatred I felt was destroying me. It was actually slowly and painfully breaking my mind apart, and I knew that if it lasted too much longer that I would have a mental breakdown and truly go insane. I was actually feeling physical pain, aches and that cliche "breaking heart" thing, as well as simple pressure on my chest. Strangely, throughout this period, I didn't cry at all, and only eventually did much later [I'll get to that soon]. This was mostly because I've trained myself to put up mental barriers and show as little emotion to people as possible so that they don't see who I am underneath. I only reveal myself to people I actually trust won't cut me down when I do. As I said before, my father, who should have at this point, recognized the pain I was in and helped me through it, instead held on to his resentment and was constantly cutting me down with insults, and passive aggressive actions that he would refuse to acknowledge. He claimed this was because directly after it happened, I was not yet depressed, but instead extremely angry and vengeful, a point of contention with him that he wouldn't let go even after I had clearly come out of that phase in my emotional process of dealing with it. On this point I will tell you that we've pretty much figured out that my father has Aspergers as well, actually having it much more severely than I do [he thinks in Black and White, can't understand many abstract concepts, is extremely stubborn and set in his ways, and is often cold, calculating, overly logical, and has a habit of dealing with people as systems to be dealt with by following instructions and sociological theories instead of fellow persons to interact with genuinely].
Since by know I'm sure you want to know what I actually did, I'll tell you. On a Sunday on which my mother wanted me to do some chores, I simply wanted to go on the computer and relax. Over the course of the day she repeatedly asked me to do the stuff she wanted me to, but I simply didn't. I actually watched a football game and even a movie [one of the Bourne trilogy, which my mother loves for some reason despite not usually being into that kind of stuff]. From this I took that it wasn't really that important to her, and so spent the entire evening on the internet, just going through the things I normally do. Then, all of a sudden, she came storming in as she often does, and demanded that I do the chores she had wanted me too. Now, as part of my personality, I really don't like having people demand that I do things, and will actually defy them just to exert my independence. In addition, she had been irrationally irritable for quite some time before that, and I had grown rather tired of it. The last thing that completes the context of the situation this happened in was that I was sitting in our den, a small square room with only one door as an exit, which she was now standing in. Therefore, to leave the room, I would have to actually get up and move past her while she was yelling at me.
Anyway, now that you know the context that this incident happened in, here's what happened. She and I argued for quite some time, she yelling at me that I was being lazy and not acting my age, which is, in hindsight, true. I stated that she was being irrational and that she needed to calm down so she could think more clearly. This continued until I just outright called her crazy, and eventually moved to punch her, but stopped myself. This startled her and she immediately pointed at me and threatened to call the police on me if I hit her. She then went back to berrating me, and then, finally, I completely lost control of myself and did something that in our society, although not really that serious a crime, is one of those social taboos that a person is simply not allowed to do.
I wailed on my own mother. Notice I did not use the word "hit." This is because I actually hit her
more than once. I hit her about
20 times,
all of them to the head and face. As I knocked her to the ground, I distinctly remember seeing her head against the corner of a hallway that had an arch that opened up into our dining room, and then actually hit her again as hard as I could, with the
specific intention of using the wall her head was pressed against to magnify the damage from it to cause as much damage as possible. In the end, after it was all done, I finally backed off and she sent me into my room where I sat down, brewing with anger and resentment over what had just happened, being understandably upset.
Now, you have to understand when looking at this that I was
not in control of myself when it happened. I didn't really consciously choose to do that. I simply got so incredibly angry that I literally lost control of myself and reverted to my primal instincts, my fight or flight response taking over, causing me to attack what I viewed as a threat in a manner reminiscent of a predatory beast like a tiger or bear. I was being motivated
solely by sheer primal rage, and nothing more. One of the things that I've come to understand is one of my triggers for such attacks is prolonged irritation. If someone is irritating me and they don't stop no matter how much I tell them to, my anger with them will build and build until I actually lose it and explode as I did in this incident.
Now, I am in
no way defending what I did then. Quite the opposite, it is undisputedly the biggest regret of my entire life. I still feel a great deal of shame and regret over what happened, although by now I've settled it mostly and the incident is pretty much resolved. My mother was the one who talked to the police, and got it so that I was charged with 5th Degree Assault, although I feel that what I did warranted a higher charge than that. I value honesty very highly, and I actually don't feel comfortable getting a lower charge than what I know I did really is. I've sort of passively gone along with it only because its what other people want me to do, but if I was in control of it and making the decision, I'd actually want them to change it to a higher charge.
On what lead up to the incident, I will state that before it happened, I had been being complacent and rather lazy, not wanting to do work, and getting too comfortable with my life. I was being immature in much of the stuff that lead up to it,
however, over the course of the months
after it happened [it occurred in mid-November] I have matured more than I have in the last few
years leading up to it. I would honestly say I haven't had a period of psychological growth this rapid since my
infancy, to the point that I didn't even think it was
possible to mature this fast. I've even gotten a lot smarter
intellectually and in terms of
wisdom as well. So, if anything good came out of it, it was that the incident served as that fire under my ass that I needed to spur me to the dramatic maturation that I needed to go through if I am to be successful.
