Growing up with a messed up head

  • You know I didn’t always have a messed up head like I do now. As a kid I was wonderful, creative, smart, and totally funny. I loved talking to and being around people… that was until my family messed me up.

    So for the last year I’ve been trying to make YouTube Videos about what is going on in my life, and every time I tell you about people they flag the videos and YouTube flags my account.

    Then when videos aren’t getting flagged it seems that I’m the target of some organized attack from other YouTubers who seemingly talk exactly like the people who I grew up with as a kid.

    Most people around me don’t realize what it was like growing up for me. From the start it was like this.

    Mom: Your real dad is an alien from another planet, but you can’t ever tell anyone because the Men In Black will come for you.
    Dad: That’s not true… your real dad was the milk-man.

    This is the most prominent memory I have of my parents from childhood besides neglect, asking for food and getting a snickers bar, getting woken up and taken to the factory at 5am, and the sound of industrial sewing machines chugging away.

    From time to time the Dad would do things with me, but that was only if the other brother was also interested. If the other brother wasn’t interested in what I was doing then who cares. That was their motto.

    I can recall time after time after time where my dad and brother would take ideas of fun stuff I would have and then go do them together without me. If they included me… they would make sure I got the cheap versions of everything. After a while I got the point that it was their entertainment at my expense.

    They would ridicule me, make fun of me, and laugh at me all day long. Wether it be for something I said, the way I said something, or how easy I would believe what they would tell me.

    As I remember the people I knew as my father and brother would play one game over and over and over that was their favorite game. That game was let’s see what we could get him to believe.

    The whole family did it… wether Mom was making me believe my real Dad was an Alien, Dad was making me believe my real Dad was the Milk Man, my brother making me believe asian women had male parts, or my sister making me believe she was my protector.

    All these people fed me stories my whole childhood to drive me crazy. Now it’s these stories I hate in life.

    I avoid people wrapped up in alien conspiracies because I grew up in the center of on. I avoid all that stuff.

    But then my son came over to my house and brought it all back. His was that my real dad was a rich person from a prominent family from the past.

    So you see everyone in my life including my son comes into my world with these crazy stories about me having some fantasy father that I should be out there looking for.

    That’s what I’ve been trying to get through to people about how weird this whole story is.

    I purposely changed my name to Quinn Michaels because my family wouldn’t stop telling me I had a secret dad out in the world somewhere. Then when my son was 12 he came over and did the same thing to me.

    Only this time his mom was the member of the secret society.

    Me personally… if you were to ask me I’d really just like to hang out drink some tea, write some code, make some cartoons, and imagine a super amazing future for my life.

    I don’t like all these stories, but well everyone on the Internet believes the crazy people I grew up with who tell all the stories.

    See they probably told you that I am a story teller… when it is them who were the ones always telling the stories. NOT ME.

    See ya next-time on the Quinn Michaels Blog

  • Most don’t realize that I type really really fast. Faster than most, but not the fastest of all. One of my favorite life stories is about being one of the fastest typists in my High School typing class.

    We learned on typewriters back in the day, but in that class I was one of the fastest typists. My sister was in the class with me at the time. I was a Freshman and she was a Senior, and she always made sure that her friends saw me as someone I wasn’t.

    See she worked very hard to make sure people saw her as a good kid that never did anything wrong.

    Me doing stuff wrong was second nature… s**t growing up I was so angry at the whole alien/milk-man dad, brother bully, sister protector story that daily I was throwing up in my mouth.

    Going to school was a pleasure for me until we were all in the same school. Once all of us were in the same school it was war.

    You see you can’t have the three of us in the same place without there being an all out battle. It’s how it rolls with these people.

    I remember Neil and I would go bowling at the local bowling alley all the time, and his bullying of me got so bad that the workers there eventually had orders to make sure we were always on opposite sides of the lanes.

    That guy Neil was a total pk growing up, and he grew up into a total pk of an adult in my opinion.

    Neil ended up being a 40 year old dude who plays Street Fighter with his buddies online. That’s the guy I found anyway, and he calls me crazy. I’m a programmer who builds s**t, and he’s like a 400lb dude who sits around playing Street Fighter II in a house his Mom bought for him looking at pornography.

    That’s my additional rant. I really like how these new blog replies can build on the website today.