My Identity Delusion

There was only one rule: don't open the door.

The problem with that was... I'm a rebel. If you tell me not to do something, I'll do it, just because you told me not to. Put a barrier up in front of me; watch me take a battering ram to it. I'm fiercely independent.

Still... I was the one who made that rule to protect myself. Why would I defy a decree I made for my own good?

⚡_______________ ⚡

Before that encounter at Walmart, I hadn't seen my father in 27 years!

I went home and got crazy drunk, reeling like I'd been struck by ___lightning.

⚡_______________ ⚡

Years ago, I had crafted this false identity. With the help of a hypnotist and a dab of psilocybin mushrooms, I had systematically built a fortification of intentional forgetfulness. That Redesigned Me didn't include...

🌈🌈... the teenage me, watching all-male orgy porn on my father's computer. I fell asleep unexpectedly after I had an incredible orgasm. Dad caught me, beat me, and would have kicked me out of the house if not for mom.

🌈🌈.... being taken to dad's (all white) church to be sat in the front pew, within pointblank range of a sermon about how homosexuals were destined for hell...

🌈🌈.... apologizing over & over for being gay, as if it was a conscious decision! I was ashamed of my own existence, although not as ashamed of myself as my sire was.

... so many humiliations hidden behind that obsidian door.

Unexpectedly running into my father had unlocked countless suppressed insecurities.

⚡_______________ ⚡

When they found me in the closet, I could barely remember my own name. But I did know that I'm a worthless weakling— a lying coward in desperate need of a hypnotist.

298 words, by

___________________________Bolt ⚡