Post by CONOR ELLIOT STERLING. on Jan 3, 2010 22:05:50 GMT -5
CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.
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* FEELS JUST LIKE WE'RE LOSING CONTROL.
and if you let go, then i'll let go tonight.[/center]
TELL US ABOUT YOURSELF.
"conor. that's my name. i don't know what else it would be. and that makes me a male, guy, sir, whatever. do i need to show you? i didn't think so. but the full thing is conor elliot sterling. that's not my real middle name, shh. my mom changed it, three times. none of them suited her. they didn't suit her. does anything sound wrong with that? but hey, at least it's not some name from the bible or some shit like that. i don't think so. it's all pretty...cutesy if i do say so myself. people are always suprised. they get all, 'conor, how sweet' and then...well that's not the problem. nicknames. i do not have any, my name is only...5 letters. they can all fit on one hand, that makes it pretty short, and the best you'd ever get is con, but that sounds stupid. like a con artist. i hope you know what that means. and i am eighteen, born on august 17. close enough to legal i guess, that and there's college soon. which means freedom. but then i'm stuck here, so that ruins the almighty plan. damnit. my plan here is to leave, but everyone has that plan. except mine will work. hah. uhh, what else? i am STRAIGHT, JESUS CHRIST. i know, i know. it is the vogue thing to do, being bi or gay or whatever the hell else. but i am not here to be a trend-follower. now that we've settled that. since i'm right in front of you, i doubt there needs to be any fancy description of what i look like, if that even matters, but here we go...yeah, i have dirty blond hair. or at least that's what it seems like to me. whoop dee doo. it's
from my mom. uh. my eyes are brown? i don't know where that came from, my parents both have blue eyes. i'm pretty much the average size. for a guy. not a girl. but i don't care if girls are taller than me. it doesn't belittle me really. i could care less how fucking tall i am. i have no idea what else to say. but sometimes people say i look like that guy alex gaskarth. i had never heard of him. until i googled him, thank god for that. i don't really see this magical similarity, but i think my friends were drunk when they said that. oops."
TELL US ABOUT YOUR MEDICAL HISTORY.
[/size][/font]"well, i guess the main reason I'm here is because i have anger problems. i think it's a bit of a stretch to end up here for emotional problems, but i guess all the other therapists and shit thought i was screwed and convinced my mom to dump me here. mmn yeah, so...the last time the doctors said i had some type of 'mental disorder' called sadistic personality disorder? yeah i know it sounds horrible, but apparently they don't know a lot about it so they may be wrong for all i know. so don't even bother looking in that huge book of disorders you've got over there. it's as simple as it sounds- okay, maybe not- i guess who ever has it is...sadistic? yeah. he kept trying to describe it better than just that but i wasn't really paying attention, i mean FUCK, who wants to listen to an idiot call you a freak? or wait, maybe just point out your problems. i don't even know. but he said something about just flat out cruel behavior and agressiveness. or maybe he said extreme. I'm not sure, ask him, jesus. he had said something before that which i was listening to before i decided he needed to shut up, i think it was called intermittent explosive disorder? yeah it sounds stupid but it apparently is me all over. hah. he kept using the words 'grossly inapropriate' interpretations of anger? sigh. i just get upset, okay. i break things. i will take it all out on you if you're in my way, so that's your fault. yeah, so the whole point of that disorder is having uncontrollable outbursts of rage? but then he said he wasn't sure, apparently those are really just bursts, like they last less than an hour. mine can last for quite awhile, man. not just that. longest ever was over two days, almost three. there was also some shit with antisocial stuff, but the doctor had said that wasn't as close to me as all the other stuff. i guess it was because it just don't always follow rules. i am a fucking...well, kid. that's common. if you break them or disrespect people it's not a big effing shebang. and i mean, is it bad to just want people to shut the hell up sometimes? i say that and people are taken aback. that's another thing, apparently i lack empathy and public conduct. he said 'pervasive behavior' sometimes too. whatever man. really. i am not mentally ill. just angry sometimes. my mom. got away with it, ohh yes she did. she can be a bitch sometimes, oh yes. but see, no one calls her a freak. she tries to console me in my...angry moments. not sucessfully mind you. she says my problems are a bit more extreme? who made her god, really? i sure as hell didn't..."
HOW CAN WE ACCOMODATE YOU BETTER?
[/size][/font]"oh, i see. getting away from the mental aspect of things. well, they let my ipod in here which was pretty sweet. i do like music. it's actually pretty chill, I've never really had an instrument or anything but i did have time to play the guitar a rather long time ago...i still remember most of everything. sometimes i listen to music when i'm...upset? i have set playlists for moods, yeah. i frequent the angry one. that's not supposed to be funny. it has some of the heavier stuff on it, like the nirvana can stay away from there because it's not really angry, but nine inch nails fits well. i like that in a girl too. if she knows music that's always nice. good stuff, i don't take the miley cyrus shit anymore, all of them can suck my dick. basically. that's a bit strong but i did hang out with a girl like that once. and that...oh god did that just suck. it did, really. so i stopped that. uh, i also do like art. i'm not outstanding at it but at least i can draw something and you'd know it was a person or whatever. i admire creativity, it's pretty cool stuff to see photography of places that not everyone finds pretty. i'm also kind of a nostalgia person too? like novelty stuff. yeah really. maybe some people would say i'm a nerd. or was, before this whole downward spiral thing started. i could watch star wars over and over and OVER AGAIN. i could. especially the early ones, the older ones are okay but the ending to the latest one was kind of a clichè. or maybe not, no one expected anakin to be engulfed in lava like that. sorry if i ruined that for you. not a problem. uhh...i like video games a lot, too bad they did not let me take the nintendo in here. i have no idea what illegal thing i could have done or produced with it. I'll try to steal it back later. hoshit i gave away my plan. ugh. i had pokemon on there. that was always my favorite game, yes it was...and now i can't play it for god knows how long and i just got a fucking level SIXTY-THREE Regice. you don't know how prestigious that is, do you? no. ahh, well what else. i like sleeping and just doing nothing, that way i mostly do not get angered and i don't have to deal with the effects forever. which happens a lot. too much. i don't like...well, being misunderstood is kind of a common thing that bothers the shit out of me, really. i don't like authority and rules. i never pay attention to them. either of them, and it never really screws me, things turn out fine. reading is nice but i particularly think william faulkner overdoes it, same with hemmingway. i don't care if they are on your fucking summer reading list, I'll skip them because believe it or not i have read most stuff by both of them to see if any of it was good. not so much. i also suck at essays. hence i do not like them. the only other thing i could think of would be movies making too many sequels, you lose it all then. i don't really have any strengths. which are basically talents, another thing i lack. but since having one is mandatory at best, i guess that would be getting things done relatively fast. i procrastinate but most of the time i get it done earlier. maybe that and multitasking. i don't think that's a strength though. weaknesses...need i say impulse control? anger? tantrums? i hate saying that. i just have moments. not tantrums. and fears. uhh. needles don't sit well. that and love. it sounds pathetic and stupid, yes. and kind of predictable. oh, the angry kid is afraid of love: how sadly cute. but really, I've never had a relationship, for serious. a real type one. so if i do maybe it'll just end up like everything else...hopefully not. i don't know. it's a funny thing.
TELL US ABOUT YOUR PAST.
[/size][/font]"i guess I'll just skip through all the boring stages. i was born, i learned all that important shit, but things really got 'exciting' a little mater so i'm going to spare you the unimportant things that happen. to everyone. uhh, so if i could...pinpoint a time when things became different- to say the least-that'd be when i was...eight? i think? we lived in maine. bangor, maine, so that's a bit far from here, but it is fucking, like, pretty. serious. i know it sounds stupid coming from me, but it's true. really. by we i mean my mom and my dad and my other two siblings. i had- i have siblings, they're not dead. i have one brother and one sister. my brother is older and my sister is barely younger than me. by a few months...so that'd mean she is almost eighteen and he's twenty one. yeah, fun. i don't really mind, it's nice being alone sometimes. it gets tedious always being kind of...pushed back as the middle kid. but uh, yeah. as i was saying, when i just turned eight everything became different. okay. maybe everything is a stretch, but the effects of that time put me here. so that's something right there. yeah, when i was eight...things were good, they worked, but i don't really know what happened. i guess my dad, he was a good person, really- but i guess he just was killed. I'm not crying over it, fuck that. we never really figured it out, but by now we've basically concluded he had something to do with drugs, i mean, we were on to it even before he died. so maybe someone killed him that way? i don't know. that time wasn't significant aside from all the things falling apart; you know? so at that tender age of course it was rather crushing. everything didn't get really severe until i was nine, it all just set in then, there was sad and there was depressed, right. and i was depressed, believe me. i wasn't slitting my fucking wrists though, oh god. that's so pathetic. i really don't get anything people do today. it's all overrated and just idiotic. it gets old fast. that's not the problem here though, even though there are probably a good share of depressed people here. jesus. this will be some fun shit, i can see it now. but I'm not here for depression, no, things started somber, i guess. after awhile...it turned into a slight anger. but here. this is where things get fucked. my mom, she was upset too. obviously. she was young, that kid that got pregnant in college, she was on the edge of nineteen, she said? yeah. well she started drinking, what else did you expect. and it was a bit much. and she started getting hungover every other morning, and it was tedious, but then it was just annoying, then it was immature. and to me, though, now it will always be considered...shitty. it was stupid, she was stupid...and there was a lot of pressure to still be in school mind you. i was on the edge on thirteen when things really got to the low point, you know? so i tried, i guess. but i kept failing basically, and then she went to rehab...well not out of choice. her parents told her to. yeah they found out. of course they did, and while her life was on a bit of a hiatus we stayed with them. I'm not even going to be sarcastic and say it was 'fun' because it blew. a lot. you see, i learned plenty of words at an early age and maybe i let them slip one too many times. can't do that shit with old people. by then it was all too by the book and boring, everything was...i was kind of depressed again. and then after my mom hadn't come back for...years, by then, i was pissed. she dumped us. this was when i was fifteen. two years since she went, still waiting. she was probably out, she just couldn't take us. when the hell will she take responsibility, i swear to god. so then i turned to...rebelling? ahh that's not the right word, but i just went with the anger. yes i broke things. yes i was fucking snappy, okay? who even cares. it was nothing extreme but it apparently was, because i was supposed to see a therapist, yup. good times. oh sure, i lied a hell of a lot and said i tried to work out my problems, but i just really sat there and mumbled to myself, and that was the closest thing to talking you got. the shrink tried, but failed miserably. and so the pattern of no speaking continued for twice a week for quite a few months until i brought the ipod which satisfied a lot. and of course i listened to obscene things. yes. why not? and i guess she waved the white flag when she just gave me pills and took money and didn't talk at all. my plans always work, see? it was all a secret, hah. and i was sixteen. what a good year, supposedly. but that's when my older brother went to college and my sister started changing- the bad kind of 'changing'- and it was a lot. so highschool just added to it all, and here we are, it's just getting to the point where 'it's not anger anymore, conor. it's grossly inapropriate rage and sometimes fits, you know better than that.' my grandparents said that. i left for three days and stayed with a friend after this. and when i came back, apparently they figured it all out, i was 'diagnosed' with this intermittent explosive shit. and the. later on the sadistic thing, right? and that brings us to now, eighteen years old. exciting. i have been freed but it's bittersweet, i end up here. like a crazy, which i am not. actually. this denial shit, it can stop, maybe i am crazy or whatever the fuck it is, i just think it's overreacting for an anger thing to put me here. does that sound right to you? wait, don't answer that. you're on their fucking side, aren't you. i could bet that. I'm sorry. but jesus christ, my mom has been 'missing in action' for five years, i have a so called mental disorder and I'm here. this place is the equivalent to giving up and not caring. yeah. let's all be truthful here, okay? that's all it is. just a shortcut for people who are too afraid of dealing with someone who just has a small problem. it is small, right?"
IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE?
[/size][/font]"is asking to leave an option? no. okay. uh well I'd like the nintendo back. i really need it. i had important things to do, like the next gym battle and...yeah. i need it back. and is this thing over? i think anything else you ask will cross the personal line and you don't want that, trust me. i'm trying this impulse control shit. Whig hasn't worked so far, this would be different if i didn't have to answer questions. i think. yeah, i think i will go now. I'm bored. you seem bored too, actually. I'm not exciting, see? i am no amazing specimen. thus i can be let out? right. okay. i really need to leave now. i'ma wrap this shit up finally."
THE MASTERMIND BEHIND IT ALL.
[/size][/font]hey, my name is RACHEL[/color] i have A MILLION TRAJILLION[/color] tracks spinning on my record. this is my FIRST[/color] character. i have been roleplaying for ALMOST 3 YEARS?[/color]. the password is silicone and saline[/color].[/font][/size]
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Things just kept getting better for Severin, didn’t they?
It got better when he was charged with illegal substances. It got better when he had to live with his grandmother. It got better when he was prescribed drugs. Oh, but the best was still to come-Getting shoved into a mental facility.
And that was the problem. Sevi had no mental disease, nor was he harmful. They said he was. What a fucking lie. He never hurt anyone, just got into a few minor fights and then maybe was an accessory that one time. The rest of it was just trifling. No one needed to put him here, with all the crazies and whatnot. No, he just needed to be alone. He could have continued in his college career, doing something constructive with his time, instead of being watched by people who didn’t even know him, just like average people on the street. It was lovely, the feeling of being a caged animal. All this would do was put him back in that state. The ‘depressed and harmful’ one. Or so said that therapist. And that psychologist. Sevi was not going to say he was making up lies, this whole thing was a charade-no. It wasn’t, they all just blew and way out of proportions. Plus they called him Severin. He hated that. His mom must have been drunk to name him such a…bizarre thing.
He slowly walked around the place, the hell hole he would soon call home, or at least a temporary one. It was a good thing he had no desire to talk to anyone, and it was great that no one wanted to talk to him, because all that would result in was a scowl, Sevi’s usual expression. That or maybe a nice retort. It was all the luck of the draw.
The place looked like a asylum. It was boxy and ugly, and in that tiny part of Sevi, the one that made up point one percent of him, it was scary. Scary in the sense he didn’t belong here, scary in the sense that he was certain, that during his time, he would be within one foot of some deranged maniac. But then again Severin was labeled that as well. So he would always be within one foot of a deranged maniac, that crazy being himself. Joy.
Yet, a part of him was curious what he would be doing here. He was inside, and it didn’t look lie much. Just quiet, quietly threatening…but that was beside the point. Like said, Sevi was not going to talk to anyone. Never. As pessimistic and bitchy as that sounded. He would just sit in his own little corner and think. Think, with his mind going ten different ways where they shouldn’t be going. This sucked. Now he would be forced to have even more time thinking about himself-which he did on a daily basis anyway, but only in the regards that those who hate the world so fucking much could.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be stuck here for long.
It got better when he was charged with illegal substances. It got better when he had to live with his grandmother. It got better when he was prescribed drugs. Oh, but the best was still to come-Getting shoved into a mental facility.
And that was the problem. Sevi had no mental disease, nor was he harmful. They said he was. What a fucking lie. He never hurt anyone, just got into a few minor fights and then maybe was an accessory that one time. The rest of it was just trifling. No one needed to put him here, with all the crazies and whatnot. No, he just needed to be alone. He could have continued in his college career, doing something constructive with his time, instead of being watched by people who didn’t even know him, just like average people on the street. It was lovely, the feeling of being a caged animal. All this would do was put him back in that state. The ‘depressed and harmful’ one. Or so said that therapist. And that psychologist. Sevi was not going to say he was making up lies, this whole thing was a charade-no. It wasn’t, they all just blew and way out of proportions. Plus they called him Severin. He hated that. His mom must have been drunk to name him such a…bizarre thing.
He slowly walked around the place, the hell hole he would soon call home, or at least a temporary one. It was a good thing he had no desire to talk to anyone, and it was great that no one wanted to talk to him, because all that would result in was a scowl, Sevi’s usual expression. That or maybe a nice retort. It was all the luck of the draw.
The place looked like a asylum. It was boxy and ugly, and in that tiny part of Sevi, the one that made up point one percent of him, it was scary. Scary in the sense he didn’t belong here, scary in the sense that he was certain, that during his time, he would be within one foot of some deranged maniac. But then again Severin was labeled that as well. So he would always be within one foot of a deranged maniac, that crazy being himself. Joy.
Yet, a part of him was curious what he would be doing here. He was inside, and it didn’t look lie much. Just quiet, quietly threatening…but that was beside the point. Like said, Sevi was not going to talk to anyone. Never. As pessimistic and bitchy as that sounded. He would just sit in his own little corner and think. Think, with his mind going ten different ways where they shouldn’t be going. This sucked. Now he would be forced to have even more time thinking about himself-which he did on a daily basis anyway, but only in the regards that those who hate the world so fucking much could.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be stuck here for long.
