Mental Health
I've often said that I'm a lifelong pessimist, and it's true. Or at least since middle school, when my family moved from southern California to Indiana. What a culture shock, one that I never fully adjusted to. Problems with the other students were all too common, which lead to outbursts and fights and Taxxy being considered more than just a general nuisance, but a potential Columbine case as well. Of course it was the solution of the school administration to force me to attend counseling, which lead to me being prescribed a host of pills. God damn pills! They suppressed my personality and screwed with my psychological development during adolescence, puberty, one of the most important development periods. And the worst part is even with the pills and mandatory counseling sessions, I still had emotional issues and outbursts, which lead to me getting practically expelled in the 10th grade.
I ended up dropping the pills a year and a half after that, in 2006, partially because I wanted to join the Army and was told by recruiters that it was against regulations to take people on prescription meds (what a load of phooey that was, as I came to learn when I finally got in two years later!), and also because as I was now out of school and without a job and spending all my time home alone, it was time to stop taking those brain-killing abominations and get back to my "natural" psychological state. Some of you surely think I'm a hypocrite for despising prescription meds even though I abuse alcohol like a fiend, but I tell you that booze is the lesser of two evils. I'll never take big pharma pills again, if it can be helped.
Getting back on track, I'm also poorer off for my three years in the Army, an experience which left me deeply cynical and distrustful of any government authority. People I knew died, and I wonder if I could have helped change that, even though I couldn't bring myself to despise the people who did it because I saw their motivations as no less noble or terrible than ours. One of my best friends ended up killing himself on his second tour-of-duty, after I was out and home (this is 2012) and spending my days watching ponies and talking about Rarity; what if I hadn't gotten out? He might still be alive. After all, nobody knew him as I did, and I could have been there for him if I simply reenlisted, been there to help him deal with the stress dealing with bullies in uniform making him feel like worthless scum. But I digress... These reactions to war and military bureaucracy have blossomed over the past three years into full blown paranoia and intense fear of the nebulous institutions that control our World, from local and national governments to the International corporations and banks to Wall Street, to Mainstream Media and a generation of Tumblr SJWs who willingly embrace a future of mass censorship because they can't handle their Feels. I have no hope for the future, for all I see is an ever worsening economy with only piss-tier jobs even for college graduates, censorship and the death of free speech, an increasingly authoritarian government, and war, war, war, war! What's the point in even trying if the whole system is rigged against you from the start??
On top of that I've also got severe body image issues, never satisfied with the way I look and terrified of gaining weight to the point I deliberately eat stingy meals most days of the week (making up the missed calories with alcohol), only doing cardio exercise because I don't care about muscles or anything other than staying skinny. If I weigh myself after waking up and I weigh more than 122 lbs (I'm 5'6'', for reference) I freak out.
Then there is the part where I have identity problems due to my mixed-heritage. For a long time that goes back to my school days, I've felt more racially conscious than most people in my generation, partly as it's natural for one as fascinated with history as myself to be curious about their ancestors, ethnicity, and nation, that leads to a deep desire to know what you are. Being able to comprehensively map out one side of the family, but knowing next to nothing about the other besides legends (due to Mexico's horrible public record keeping) is a rather disturbing sensation. And of course, this has only been made worse by my gradual descent into cynicism and paranoia since getting out of the Army, and all the time spent reading alternative news and lurking the *chans (hello /pol/!!). I've decided the only way for me to have peace of mind is by one day spending the money to get my blood tested by a service like 23andme.
My sexuality been a festering wound for a long time as well. I've never had much interest in humans and discovered from a young age that I was a zoophile thanks to my interest in funny animal cartoons like Road Rovers or sci-fi comic series and even Egyptian gods; and being a bullied kid with few friends led me to emphasize with animals, especially dogs like I had as pets, being they didn't judge you and were my only companions. Discovering that I preferred animals over my own species, eventually leading me to embrace the furry fandom (although I'd say I was more of a "furvert" since I was in it for the porn), was only a natural development.
The real torment was figuring out I am gay as well. Indiana is a fairly conservative state, especially here in the suburbs surrounding Indianapolis, and going to school in the early '00s as a recent California expat made it even worse. They took one look at me with my long hair (by their standards, since everyone else had short-cuts and military buzzes while I had a raggedy mess that went to my shoulders) and the little sociopaths automatically assumed I was gay. Being a socially awkward introvert, I didn't take well to this which only increased their efforts and led to me going through several years of hell. I internalized that and became a massive homophobe, with together with the aforementioned awakening zoophilia and the meds I was on suppressing sexual development/desire (another personal reason to loathe pills - I spit on them and the drug companies!!!!!) led to realization being pushed years beyond what can be considered the average for this generation. I thought I was straight, felt straight, and would fantasize about female furries for the first couple years after coming into sexual desires, yet it lacked... satisfaction, and I couldn't understand why until I accidentally stumbled upon gay porn on one of the furry image boards I perused. There was no turning back from that, no matter how much I wished or tore at my mind for answers while crying myself to sleep, fighting tooth-and-nail against myself in a desperate attempt to change. Even though I've come to accept that these many years later, heck even embrace it as a part of me, there is still much lingering self-loathing, which wasn't helped when I feel completely in love with Rarity and believed I was "cured" of my homosexuality. I haven't been with her in almost a year and a half, nor even heard from her since last March, and have started a new relationship with my stallion Curio, yet even now it gnaws at me, causes me to see myself as less of a man, a contributing factor of my feelings of being a failed human being.
When I was forced by circumstances to tell my mother last fall that I am gay, the disappointment was visible - she even refused to accept it. We've talked about it on one other occasion since then, and while she seemed a bit more receptive to the idea, she still doesn't take it seriously. And then people wonder why I wish I could be bi, or just be with Rarity again.
tl;dr I have suffered from depression and serious self-loathing for many years, with doses of paranoia and anxiety tossed in, and I don't believe there is any way to change. Or at least not change to the degree that some people insist. I won't take prescription meds due to horrible experiences and a fear that it'll cause me to loose Curio, even if that means people think I don't care. These issues are too deeply rooted to the point that they have become a major part of who I am, and I fear they can't be removed without destroying my identity.
Interactions with other People
I've never been good at making friends IRL or even interacting with the majority of people on a functional level. Time spent in the Army and as a liquor store clerk have helped me develop strategies for dealing with the worst of my antisocial tendencies, but I remain most comfortable when I'm alone, whether in my room (the most common), driving my car, or out someplace remote. Every Friday night I go to the local gastropub, occasionally talking with the other patrons, and I go to a few conventions to see my friends IRL and meet new people, but other than that my social interactions are a strictly Internet affair.
This isn't to say I don't appreciate my friends: I love them, and very much wish we lived nearer together so we could meet up more than once or twice a year. Just with my conditions, I come to rely on them not only for companionship, but as prop for my own massive shortcomings. Too many find themselves unable to continue supporting me in addition to their own burdens, so one by one they distance themselves or just plain cut of contact. Seeing this happen time and time again makes me massively paranoid people are always plotting some nefarious scheme against me, be it by refusing to talk or give me advice on how to strengthen my Pony bond, or acting against the interests of MLW.
I want to be seen as somebody who can be trusted, a friend who can be counted on to help during one's time of need, or just hang out and waste time. In reality, it feels like it's inevitable I'll be alone.
