I’ve decided to write open prompt because there are few questionnaires, and many of the questions are easy to manipulate. The last thing I want to do is let my biases for Ti and Ni force me to mislead you all as I’ve done before.
So where do I began? Do I dig into my clouded memories and attempt to drag out a flimsy snippet? (See, right there I tried to play down Si, but in truth I am not a databank of detailed sensations, mostly because my mind wanders and I have trouble concentrating — is this Ne or an attention problem?) I suppose the best thing would be to reference home movies. My whole life I’ve played things up for other people (not trying to be obvious Fe, but I do sincerely feel as if I’ve played a role or done things just to get a reaction) and it shows in the home movies. There are only three I recall, simply because they are so embarrassing to watch that it’s hard to forget. I’ve never thought I would tell anyone about these situations, but here it goes.
Real quick, let me say that I loved the camera. (How do I know that? No idea, but even to this day I pretend to hate attention when at times it validates me.) When the camera was on me, I’d act foolish. The first video is my younger brother’s birthday (not sure how old he was, but he was young enough not to talk much). Was I jealous that he was receiving all the attention? Not sure, but in the video I spoke to him in a put on high-pitched voice. When he opened a present I’d say “ [brother’s name] that’s soooooo coooool. Oh wooooow.” I think I picked up the baby talk from a relative, but it’s hard to imagine this was me being myself. It seemed like I just couldn’t shut up in that video; I was very annoying.
The second video is me running around a pool, patting my ass while pretending to ride a horse, while shouting “ride em’ bullseye!” For emphasis: THE. WHOLE. VIDEO. I suppose Toy Story 2 was the influence.
The third video is me in a kiddy pool. The adults were in the big pool (was it a circular, above ground kind?), but I was too little. When the camera came in my direction, I dipped my hand in the water, licked my hand, and said something along the lines of “yucky yucky nipple sucky.” I have no idea what that was about, but I do remember that for as long as I can recall, I’ve always hated being treated as a child; saying those types of things may have been a rebellion. I knew when adults talked down to me, and I hated the hierarchy (and I’ve not trying to sway you guys to say that I have inferior Te).
Another strange thing is that I wasn’t potty trained until the day before kindergarten. I’m not sure if I had actual trouble going, or if it was an attention thing I played up.
As for school, my mother told me “be friends with everyone” (terrible advice; I think she meant “get along with everyone”). She instilled this idea in my head, that I’d need to get along with everyone. I’m not sure how she did it, but throughout my school career I always tried to be friendly with everyone. However, I would often say strange, inappropriate things and make esoteric references/jokes. Sometimes I did these things on purpose, but other times I just didn’t know what was right. Every friend I had either put me down because of my weight, or I let them take advantage of me because I was resolute to be kind. Now, as a student I didn’t try very hard to study near the end (starting around High School), but I always turned my work in on time, did what the teachers asked, and unfortunately became the pet to many.
In fourth grade, I had decided to be an extremely kind person. We had to play a game that started by taking as many skittles as we wanted. I took 5. So, when it turned out we had to answer a question for each, you get the idea. One of the questions was to answer the teacher’s age, and I guessed 25. Did I really think 25 or was I kissing ass? No idea, but when she read the answer she called me honey and gave me a handful of skittles. I was one of her favorite students, the favorites of two in sixth grade, admired by one in eight grade, the favorite of one in High School, and one or two in community college. (By CC I was tired of it. I mean, why do teachers have to act like my best friend simply because I do my work on time like all students are suppose to?)
Now, going backwards, there is something I want to touch on. There was a girl in HS I was interested in. You see, I live in a small hick town where self-respect is hard to come by. There was an average looking girl that could be considered pretty (kind of looked like Lauren Cohen in Season 1 of TWD). I remember just deciding to like her, just because she was snoody, hard-working and had an air of self-respect. The problem was I was a fat (still am), insecure (still am), effeminate (still am), moron who acted like Chris Farley on Cocaine in that class. I also had no idea how to be my own person and act appropriately. One day I had a friend who read some PUA books (I know…a total scam) help me message her on FB. She seemed to take kindly to the message, but later on I took initiative and my insecurity shone through. I sent her the music video of Wonderwall and all she could say was that the guy had weird eyebrows. Eventually, she told me she liked someone else and I told her I hope he breaks her heart. I haven’t like Wonderwall since, and me and her avoided each other for the rest of the year. I saw her in CC and we avoided each other once again. I actually had a dream the other night that we were together and I was happy. I’ve always been on the fence about a God, but in the dream I thought “this is evidence that God exists. This is fate.” Then I woke up. I’m a bit teary-eyed writing about this.
Speaking of how I write about this, none of this is pre-planned. I’m writing as I go (so don’t think the writing style is evidence for Ne. Ne does not always equal randomness), but as usual I took a break and walked around the house while listening to music that I don’t actually care for. It’s strange, but when I feel indignant I listen to stupid music (Every Girl by Young Money, Good Pussy by Papa Duck, etc. I don’t even care about rap, so this doesn’t make sense to me.) When I feel sad I listen to Shinji Ikari by Fightstar, or Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe (the beat is very depressing to me). When I feel like acting a fool, I listen to strange music. Etc.
If I were to objectively analyze myself, I’d say that I’m a victim of learned helplessness. My mother sheltered me from the world, so I’ve pretty much avoided living life. Never had a gf, first date, first kiss, etc. My mom says I need to get laid but I really see the cons in pursuing such a relationship. See the terrible anime School Days for an extreme reference. I’m afraid that my whole life will be spent here, and yes I can find a job, save money and leave, but I just can’t. (Plus I’m stuck going for my B.A.) Also, I seem to display traits of aspergers, Schizotypal personality disorder (scored 100% on the Celebritytypes test), histrionic personality disorder (like my mother, although mine is a bit hidden as I work against it), and Borderline personality disorder. Not to say that I have any of these disorders, but I can relate to many of the traits. Sometimes I play it up. For example, I pretend to take things too literally. Or I pretend to fail to understand hidden implications. But I think it’s just to test my mother, and she is a not so observant ENFP/ESFJ. I think I do want something to be wrong with me so I can feel special or rare. For example, this is the reason for my Ni bias.
I’ve been to three therapists (different intervals of time) and the only one that knew anything said I have mild agoraphobia and that’s the only problem. But since he was recommended by a quack who thinks I have a serotonin deficiency which causes depression (despite the fact that no neuro scientists seem to agree, as they believe serotonin deficiency is linked to depression, and not a cause) then I can’t really trust him either.
I’ve known for a long time that I’ve wanted to tell stories, but it wasn’t until last year I’ve discovered the proper form to pursue: writing (I know none of this is well written, but I’m always rushing things as if I’m against the clock). I can’t seem to plan my book. I have a few ideas, and some for characters, but I just can’t find the energy to work it all out. And I can’t improvise a novel to save my life. This is because I often will re-read something, hate it, and then instead of modifying delete the whole thing. This is how I am. I need my book to contain more words than any other, and to be the best. When I play Civ 5, the game has to be perfect from the beginning or I get frustrated in restart. I’m that kind of guy. P.S. I use Rotten Tomatoes scores to dictate which movies I should watch.
I suppose the things I need to work on more than anything are: A) becoming more independent B) learning to focus and become motivated to get things done C) taking time out of my time wasting schedule to introspect D) try and read as much as I can, as I have a desire to have a mechanical mind.
Speaking of mechanical mind, I wish I was like Near from Death Note. This is another strange thing about me, I try to be fictional characters. When I had a period where I was fascinated by L Lawliet, I would try to sit like him and eat a lot of sweets. I’ve done things like this many times.
A fictional character I do relate to is that guy from Welcome to the NHK (he was typed as Fi in the show). We are both home bodies — I seriously do next to nothing, paranoid, and our mind has trouble staying in the moment (not trying to influence anyone that I have low Se, but I do hate sports and most physical activities).
When I walk around with music, I use my head to either create interpretive music videos, or sing with a group of fictional friends in the near future. When I was younger I use to listen to Your Love It Feels So Good and create Pokemon amvs within my head, before even knowing what an amv was.
As of today, I dislike most people, have trust issues, am paranoid and pessimistic.
I think I’ve covered just about everything. Thanks for reading. If you tl’dr, then I understand, but I’m still irked you feel the need to tell me.