I’d like to respond to this. It’s the stuff in bold that made me recoil at what I’ve become. Parents, dad got irritated when I thought too much and asked too many questions. He interpreted my curiosity as a way to avoid doing my chores. While actually I was thinking about making them easier to perform. When we raked leaves in the fall he insisted we fill garbage cans with the leaves and haul them to the front yard and dump them, then return. I suggested using a large tarp, the leaves could be raked directly onto it, It held far more then a garbage can could, it was easier to dump, and the weight of the return trip was reduced dramatically. We finished the job in half the time that year. He never said good show. I didn’t get along with my father well. Mom was a charm, well read, thoughtful and she was aware the sort of thoughts that ran through my head. She always said I had great potential but never really clarified what that meant. She was disappointed with my grades in school, put me through a battery of childhood development and personality tests. Most of my teachers thought I was a clown in the classroom, a distraction. I didn’t thrive well in a parochial school system which my parents insisted on. First crack at college got me expelled. Returned a few years later and graduated top of my class. Majored in Art, minored in aesthetics, the only branch of philosophy I studied formally accept for a few general ed required courses. Four Professors stood out, two were amazing, the other two were amazing too but chided be insistently that I wouldn’t have the stamina to make it as an artist. I didn’t, One retired the other’s contract wasn’t renewed many years latter, teaching classical dance now at a small local school. As far as friends, never had a group of friends, don’t to this day. One of my friends molested my youngest sister, the best man at my wedding, developed a bad infatuation over the same sister and was latter diagnosed with metal illness. He never was the same after that and the friendship died by the wayside. Those who I considered friends didn’t turn out so friendly so I pretty much just keep everyone at arms length. In that way I am my own best friend and worst enemy. Everyone else on the planet fits somewhere in between.
I think temperament, has a lot to do with it. During a bad period of thinking after 9/11 I was diagnosed with ptsd. Repeated nightmares of a violent nature, couldn’t sleep or eat, poor job performance, nearly unable to function, my shrink tried to hypnotize me, said i wasn’t suggestible. Spent a lot of time on my introversion. Didn’t help much, was a slow recovery.
I guess the possibility of me being brainwashed by my own self imposed isolation is possible, don’t read much, perhaps cause I wanted to figure it out on my own. The answers others provided never made much sense.
But perhaps your questions were rhetorical. Shrug. I gotta come to terms with what I’ve become sooner or later. Miserable, an asshole, and retarded by some estimates. Being my own best friend I am aware of another side. Some people may see it, I really don’t know. I can be clever. I can earn a lot more value for myself working for myself then I ever could working for the man. Never demanded a raise in my life. Never took a hand out either. I shovel my own shit. Grow a lot of my own food. And I help others before I attend to my own shit if priorities require.
And you know what, I’m really starting to get irritated by the younger generation with the nads to call me brainwashed. But leaning left I can cut them some slack.