Here, I’m telling my story as I see it. This is the beginning of my report on everything that can be told about my experiences in life.
The bohemians have stories to tell. I’ll tell my part in those events to start with. This is not a chronological story. It is just something I want to tell for the purpose of expatiation of debt to those who were observers to my trespasses and sins. I also tell this to release people from the burden imposed by my remaining silent on such matters. Sin is not only what one decides to do oneself, but what was done to oneself by others.
My paranoia about my imagining Carrie’s infidelities caused me much pain. I was traumatized by the realization that I did not know why I loved her, and she knew that while maintaining a relationship which was about her love and not mine. I could say “I love you” to my family, but not to my girlfriend. I did tell her my feelings, I did express myself in ways artistic in showing her what I thought of her. I did not know how to express love in words though. I wanted to do things for her that I dared not do. I could not bring myself to find a job, because of my paranoia and phobia. I needed professional help, and I knew it. And Carrie loved me by supporting drug treatment when I had a psychotic breakdown publicly.
I must have done some trauma to her as well. In addition to depleting her money by not finding a job and consuming her resources, I had eyes for other women. She was very forthright, and I was ashamed because I was making poor decisions concerning finances, health, relationships, family concerns, matters of the heart, drug abuse, and frequent manic and psychotic episodes. I was very unstable around her, and very unstable when we were apart. I was afraid to show her my weakness of manic psychosis. But I think it hard for her not to have noticed my frequent paranoid and delusional episodes. I think she probably knew I was hallucinating more and more frequently.
My relationships had a lot of pain because I was delusional, in that I thought I had expertise in art, a field that I knew little about, and was unskilled and unpracticed in. There were also flights of fancy, abnormal beliefs about the power of art to heal them all, when I was the one who needed the healing.
I had bizarre symptoms that were expressions of lust and lechery. One of them was self-abuse. I abused myself publicly twice. I could not control my impulses, and my poor decisions got the best of me again.
I had some hysteria and delirium concerning the lechery of others, which began my quest to find people who had overcome their sins. I was deluded that sin could be overcome by myself, if only I could find people to emulate. Really the only way for me to overcome sin was by putting it before Jesus Christ.
I was always seeking to escape into narcosis, abusing cannabis, LSD, psilocybin, salvia divinorum, and tobacco. I had hallucinations, paranoia, delusions, and other psychotic symptoms from overuse and intoxication.