Time to stop owning what was never mine.

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Many of you know I was born with an unwanted inheritance. An inheritance of misanthropy, perversion, insecurity, xenophobia, narcissism, manipulation, and many, many related games and projections. I was the most socially accepted target at the time of my initial autism diagnosis, and at a very young age, I was taught that I had to own countless generations' experience of carrying this wretched torch.

No more, I say. I once had no choice. But I cannot continue to blame the lack of progress in my life on these chains that I can (not so easily, admittedly) slip off any time that I want to.

I can only own what is mine. Nothing more. Nothing less. My actions and words are my own. My thoughts, feelings and opinions are also my own. I wish to feed my mind, educate it, listen to opposing views expressed civally, learn what I can.

What is not my own is what the role in my bloodline's script that I still am expected to play for them.

I do not need a script. I am just making this up what my role consists of as I go along with it. And I am perfectly alright with that.

I now know that I am not a disgrace. I now know that I am not the rotten fruit in the family tree. I now know that I do not live with intellectual and cognitive disabilities. I now know that my moral compass can be trusted. I never was defective.

True, I have autism. But that does not mean that I have to accept whenever somebody uses that diagnosis to discredit my views.

I am drowning the wretched torch in the waters of clarity. I carry it no more. It was never my job to carry it on to the next generation in my bloodline. It belongs to none of us, actually, but if the rest of them are perfectly comfortable running with it, that is their f*****g problem.

I have my own path to forge.

My own life to live.

My own role to play.

A life with education, free from the use of substances as crutches, with a family in recovery where the ties are thicker than what blood will ever provide.

The only power that the predators hold over me is what I have allowed them to have.

If I want to alleviate the sting of my past and the unhealthy cravings of the present, I have to be my own man.

I almost wish I could do this.
It's just that the horrible treatment was worse before I knew. Now that I know how special and unique my brain is, at least I have a reason for why people do this. Before, I just thought I was a crappy person who deserved being walked all over. Now I know how to use my rights and seek legal counsel.
It's almost tempting to start suing people..