While this is my second experience in a fandom, having been involved in the community of another one earlier in 2012, this was the one I’d tried getting a foot in for years. I know, as long as you like it, you’re considered part of a fandom, but it was the community I wanted to be a part of. I wanted to talk about our shared interests, make friends, do things together, have fun.
Coming from a life of abuse at home, and abuse in school, I don’t trust anyone. I keep a positive spirit, I get things done, and I help and inspire as much as I can, because I never had that. Surviving, something so basic as breathing, was hard, and I had to do it on my own. I was viewed as pitiful, useless and retarded for my autism at home, constantly mocked and belittled and every abuse contributing to the anxiety and self-loathing. Together with the promises of trust followed by back-stabbing by back-stabbing, it made me so closed off I barely trusted myself.
School was neither worse, nor better. Kindergarten to high school was the same. Middle school/junior high, whatever you call it in your country, was a place for physical beatings and shame. Rage and trying to end it in public, in the school cafeteria, to see if someone would bat an eyelash. They didn’t. I wish I exaggerated. Then I truly tried by my lonesome, but I didn’t.
There were things I enjoyed. Writing stories and drawing, playing games. Dreaming. The screaming in that house could never diminish it, only make me dream more, ache more for the day when I would reach a goal. I was bad at everything. So I picked up things you can practice on your own. Singing, drawing, writing… things like that. I kept doing it, and I did good. Bit by bit, I got better. But my life didn’t.
While the Internet helped, and I had gained some acquaintances through it, I never had the experience of a group of friends having fun like I observed at school. I’ve never known the comfort of having someone close to where you live whom you could just walk over and talk to.
I made more friends. Then there was one who ended his life. I dared not get close anymore. I still don’t, but I slowly get better. I get struck by this intense fear and distance myself, push people away, give them reasons to leave before I get too attached. Because I only see what I’ve been told all my life: good for nothing, ugly, disgusting, pitiful, useless. And then when it turns out this is not how people here see me, it’s a difficult thing to adapt to.
I got out of that house in spring 2012.
And now, I’ve experienced such an amazing sense of camaraderie in this community. I’m surrounded by such fantastic people who would acknowledge me and enjoy what I do, as well as consider me a part of their lives, even. I get to be a part of something I’d missed, I get to be important to someone. I just can’t express it. I’m tearing up as I speak.
I’m not sure why I wanted to confess this here. I just wanted to share this, I wanted to give. To get people to understand just how intensely I do appreciate every single one of you. How you save my life everyday for allowing me to keep this positive aura, and capability of understanding that I have somehow received despite the massive negative influence. How I am not above anyone, and if anything, I’m the one who clings for companionship. I never had a family, so friends are my true family. I don’t consider them people to go to for entertainment, I consider them kin. I would give up my life for my kin.
I don’t want to be pitied. That is not the purpose of this confession. I just want to let you know, that I am just like anyone out there. I started at the lowest of lows and I worked my way up. I now work as an illustrator and comic artist, and I get to interact with such amazing people I am so eternally grateful to be able to call friends. I did it.
Thank you. Thank you so much.