Mac Jones. Porn, drug, and self addict.
My whole life, I've been a dreamer. I've lived my life daydreaming about the future, coupled with studying hard, and practicing the things I love, so someday I could be the best.
I've been told by many people my whole life, that I'm a very talented individual.I'm tall, "good-looking", a good singer and musician, and I can write like a man knowledged beyond my years. I knew I had trouble with letting it get to my head, but I put on a very good "humility" act.
I often have had trouble keeping reality from my own world inside my head. When I was twelve, I was convinced I was an inter-dimensional spy. I knew I wasn't, but I wanted to be SO BAD, that I acted like I was hiding the fact that I was.
When I become obsessed with something, I get ADDICTED. It runs in the family. My Dad and grandfather were both raging alcoholics at points in their lives. My Dad survived it. Grandpa Jesse didn't. RIP Uncle Jessee.
So, when I was thirteen, my Dad (not an alcoholic) started a family restaurant. My Dad is one of the premier cooks in western Wisconsin. He has been running restaurants for 25 years, and this was his first try at owning one.
It was the greatest three years of my life, yet the worst. All my fake world, all my passion, went into Kaladis. I gave it my all for three years. Every day, I was there. I never understood that I was losing my childhood, my innocence. I got a smartphone, and the trouble started.
I was watching porn every night withing two months. I got my hands on weed through an ex-employee who was bitter at Dad.
And we failed. We struggled for three years. Kaladis was more of a home to me than my real home. We had a dozen employees, who wewere great friends with. Bob, Nina, Julie, Melanie... I still love those guys... But slowly and surely, we failed.
My Dad wanted SO badly for this to succeed. It killed him, to see what was without a doubt, his best endeavor, failing. And in 2013, he went back to drinking. To help the pain. To keep his sanity as the bills piled up. All he wanted was for this to work.
And in the meanwhile, he was losing me. I was up until midnight, hungrily finding the most perverted, disturbing, awful trash I could, and swallowing it. I still put on my act in the daytime. But at night, the internet was my playground.
I also couldn't understand why we were failing. I began retreating back into my mind, because it was sure as hell better than what I was living. But now my world consisted of death and hatred. I was a vigilante, brutally destroying those who get away with evil. Those kids in school who blackmail others. The bullies who make innocent girls commit suicide. My generation was the center of my anger.
When my girlfriend died, I still didn't snap. I continued to play the part. I went to church, went to school, garnered the praise of those who couldn't see the hatred in my eyes.
What I hated most of all was ignorance. I craved knowledge. And I learned. I have always been homeschooled. That's how I was able to work every day. I have a 3.8 GPA, and got a 29 on my ACT with no calculator, as a sophomore. I did weed only lightly. My imagination was my drug.
Then I found dogfight. I brought my spite and anger to the boards, and was told by Jackalope, Longrifle, and others to kindle shut the hell up. I couldn't believe it. The internet was my toy. Nobody fought back there, I thought.
And so I stayed. Kaladis finally closed in January, and I started the process of figuring out how to be a teenager. I'm still really bad at it.
On the same day, I admitted to my Dad that I was an addict. To myself. And he told me he was drinking.
So there we were, father and son, two individuals who were completely broken. We'd just watched three years get flushed down the drain.
We both quit our addictions. I haven't even been tempted to go back. I don't even watch soft porn.
But my mind was still damaged. And so I went to the place that I had first been resisted. Here. This forum. I made my mistakes, and still do, but remember. I've got a broken heart, and an even more broken mind.
I was a real d-bag at first. I still can be. But I'm working hard to return. Dogfight is the only game I play. It's where I make my real friends. I have three friends outside of dogfight. In the world.
So now, in real life... Well, I don't know what I'm like. I make people smile. People in my life, in my new job, are proud of me. They say I'll go far. The only thing in my way, they say, is myself.
And they're right.
I'm sorry if this was written in a poor and disjointed manner. I just started writing, and it all spilled out. I didn't have my usual time to think out what I was going to say.
Mac.