i was a teenage prisoner.
Category: Real Life
as a child i was basically held prisoner. i wasn't allowed online. i wasn't allowed to see my friends. kids at school thought i hated them because they'd invite me over and i always had to tell them my mom said no. i was great at school and great at band. i went to state in academics and on the flute - not because i was particularly bright or talented, but because those things were my only ticket out of the house. and eventually those things propelled me to college where i was finally relatively free.
but i've lived with the scars forever. i never feel worthy of spending time with other people. i always feel invited out of pity. i never feel like i'm allowed to pursue new hobbies because hobbies, and socializing, are for other people. not for me. it's burned in my brain. i wish i could just reset my whole brain and start over and allow myself a golden retriever mentality when it comes to interactions with other people.
and the craziest part is i feel like i made it all up. if i brought it up to my mom, she'd tell me i did. she was the one who forced this reclusive lifestyle on me. she's beloved by her former students, so no one would ever believe that i was made to live like this. it's thousands of students' word against mine. but they never lived with her. they'll never know the truth.
it's taken me years to get up the courage to draw comics about my life. to draw people. to tell my stories. right now i'm making comics about my everyday adventures. buying concert tickets, zoom chatting with friends, traveling. but i'm just getting warmed up. as could be expected with the way i grew up, i've always wanted to die. but i will not end my life. i can't. not yet. i can't die until my story is told. and now that i've started telling it, it's like i'm on autopilot toward the sweet release i've so desperately wanted for over half of my life.