Hey, people. I've been lurking around here for a bit. Unlike my experiences on past forums, I felt the need to come out with a proper introduction of me. As far as I can remember, I've never done this before.
Prologue:
A few weeks ago, I tested as an INTP-A. For the first time, I agreed with everything in the overview. Typology finally captivated my mind. I've always been an ally with psychology, but I guess I used to regard MBTI as something silly? I surfed multiple websites gathering lots of information regarding my type, different types, cognitive functions, and eventually this website that I once lurked. I think, at heart, I'm an INTP, but...reading others' posts here actually...makes me feel less intelligent for once. I don't know how to feel about that. Remember when I was saying how I wanted my junior year (current year) to be the year in which I socialize with people? I guess the saying, "If you associate yourself with idiots for long enough, you too will be an idiot," holds true here. For a while, I've been putting my Ti on hold. As another website put it, I've been the "Entertainer" for my peers for months, hence my notion of "Internal Conundrums". I've failed to connect with the overwhelming majority of S types in society. Even suspected NFs aren't drawn-....even suspected NTs don't seek my company. I have a suspected ENTP English teacher who likes me (and I like him a lot, so I actively seek his company), but that seems to be about it.
I think I'm an INTP but I also question if I actually am one. I've tested in my youth as INTJ, in dark times as ISTP, and even one time recently as an INFP...not that I think emotions are sinful or whatever, but I don't assume the worst in people. I want to connect with people (this might have been the biggest motive behind me coming here), but they don't want to connect with me. I take it that this community is full of like-minded people. Maybe you guys can fine-tune my brain and help me restore my potential as a smart person. We can enjoy abstract conversations together and not be afraid of sharing our imaginations... I've been reduced to small talk for a while now. I want to live as my true self.
_______
I think that's all I have to say for now. I've ran out of juice. It's midnight now. I read one of the recent intro threads, and it compelled me to make a disclaimer:
This was not meant to seek attention or sympathy. This was not meant for me to boast about me growing up.
I don't have ill intentions. I just really don't want to let society hurt me any more than it already has, and, if you want to look at it this way, I didn't spend two hours pulling a story out of my ass to get laughs. I pulled it out of my head while eating cookies and drinking mango juice lol. Finé
Edit: I read this over, and I'm like...did I even intro.? I feel like I wrote more of an autobiography, but..wouldn't that be an intr- ah screw it, just call me out on whatever if you see fit
Prologue:
I've known what typology is for a few years now. Currently, I'm 16. I first took a test when I was 13, and I tested as an INTJ. I didn't think much of it, but this fact has been glued to my mind ever since then. I used to be a good student; I could do all my homework at the last minute and do well on all tests. I was pretty much the teacher's pet for my classes...until the middle of my freshman year.
Over the span of a weekend, my attitude toward homework went from mindlessly cramming it into my 'schedule' to, "Nah, I don't feel like doing it; it won't matter much anyway". When I selected my courses for sophomore, I filled my schedule to the hilt; no room for a lunch or study hall. Why did I do this? I was unaware of what was happening to me. I think some teachers sent phone calls home informing my parents of my missing work and whatnot. What was the brilliant solution to 'correct me'? Or was it a solution to 'scare me back into drone work'? My parents confiscated my first laptop, one of my favorite pastimes. They probably hoped that I would fill in the new gap of time catching up on schoolwork to earn back my computer. Naaaaah that didn't work. I would rather do nothing (seemingly) than do the work. Was it apathy creeping up on me? I had no explanation or awareness of my shifting attitude. Home started to become a less pleasurable place. I think my parents and I must've been playing tug of war with my 'possessions'. One day in June, they took away my computer again. This time I was angry; I was determined to get even. I got home from school before everyone else in the house, and I hid the power cable for the modem. After that, I got on my bike and rode to town without my phone. I wanted my parents to know (maybe even remember) what it feels like to lose something you desire. I was fed up with being treated like a child. I thought that they were trying to attack me, so I really wanted them to feel anger and fear. Anger that I bit back at them. Anger that they were losing control over me. Fear of not knowing where I am. Fear of being unable of reaching out to me. They would be left in a state of panic, confusion, desperation, desperation to come to terms with me.
I came back home hours later, but nobody tried to use the internet until I was already home. Hah, see, this is why I never truly liked planning lol. I think they suspected that I was up to no good; they must've put the pieces together: took the computer, missing cable, disobedience, let's accuse. I refused to tell them. And into the next morning, I still refused to tell them. That's when my stepfather took it upon himself to hold me up against the refrigerator hoping I'd give in. I still didn't say anything, and the bus passed the house by then. So much for taking my final exam for French. I got a 0 for it. My final course grades for my freshman year classes weren't as high as they could have been (90s), but they sufficed.
Now it's summer time. This is when I start analyzing this 'crisis'. That's what it felt like at the time anyway. I came up with some solution quickly and dismissed it as, "I'll be fine by the time school starts."
But my intolerance carries over to inside the household. My mother made it a habit to get wasted at night because her externship was stressing her out. Her boss was a bitch, basically. If she quit, she would have a really hard time replacing the externship and by extension graduating from college. It's required for her field of study.
I understand the frustration now, but then I had tunnel vision, if that's the right way to describe it. I was only focused on her poor way of coping with her day life. One day in the August before my sophomore year, I'm on my computer playing an online game in the bedroom. My brother is on his phone, presumably on some social media. She comes into the room and tells me, "You better shut that off or I'll take it from you," something to that extent. I'm thinking...what? It's 9pm in summer. What's her deal now? She didn't have anything to say to my brother but went straight for me? I thought, "This is an attack on me." The way she said it, too, immediately made me angry. She comes closer to my bed and says, "Shut it off." I tell her, "Get away from me." And you know what she did? She came even closer. That's when my conscious shut off.
fight scene
I moved my laptop to the side, got up and pushed her away from me all in one motion. She fell down and got up after a few seconds. She yells, "I'm going to f****** KILL YOU!" Seriously just like that. My conscious is off, however. I didn't think of things like, "How could she say something like that to me?" She charged at me, so I used her momentum to throw her to the other side of me. She flies over my bed and lands on the floor on her back. Now my mind is verifying what just happened. Mother gets up and holds me onto the bed, trying to break my arm. That's precisely what I yell to see how she reacts. After maybe 10 seconds, she lets go. I escape. This is when my brother runs out of the room. He ends up calling one of my stepfather's friends for help. When my mother comes at me again and charges into the wall, I go in front of her and hold her against it with my body for as long as I can. She kept yelling at me from behind, and I must've yelled "STOP" over 100 times between then and when the friend showed up. He threw me off of her and said, "You should NEVER put your hands on her again or I'll throw you through the window, and then I'll come right behind you." He would say something like that; this isn't my first time meeting him. I say, "I was trying to stop it." The two adults and my brother leave the room with the laptop, leaving me alone in the bedroom. My mother's crying in the kitchen. I'm crying in the room, astonished by the situation. I overhear, "...should've put a hammer to that computer. It's been causing so many problems," among other talk through walls. An hour later, my real dad from out of state shows up to pick me up and take me away for the night.
end fight scene
My solution for the problem was supposed to take effect during the start of my sophomore year, but the issue persisted. Again the prevalence of school, teachers, and report cards reignited the fire of that summer. This conflict seemed like it wasn't going to leave. My 15-year old self back then was out of solutions. This is when I think I was depressed but not diagnosed with something of the sort (is that even a thing?). I don't even know if it was depression or not. I actually asked my mother if I was depressed at one point in late 2014, of course when relations healed between us. I had some of the symptoms of depression but didn't quite feel like I was depressed but more of a state of readily available rage. We didn't have a definite answer for it.
From June 2013 to April 2014 is what I call the 'Dark Age' of my life. I took the MBTI once around January 2014 and tested as an ISTP. Again, I didn't think much of it. My brother broke my first laptop this month too but unintentionally. My real dad ordered me a new laptop as a gift, and this one was for gaming. It's the one I use now. Anyway, backtracking to 2014, the beginning of my sophomore year was when I started analyzing my teachers. How well were they teaching/doing their job? I also analyzed them as people. What are his/her beliefs? Do I agree with them? Why or why not? Liking or disliking teachers for me no longer became based around how much homework was assigned or how hard they made the class but how they taught, how they justified class rules, how personal they got with the class and/or me, how genuine they seemed, etc. I stopped respecting teachers for their authority. I respected teachers, if I could, for their personalities, morals, attitude, you get it. I still do. This year is when I started walking out of classes, forcefully moving objects, giving death stares, and other outlets for my stress with school, home, lack of social life...yeah. In my anger, I also tried to find reasons for everything. I questioned everything (tell me if you get this allusion). I came up with bold, liberal-like conclusions about the educational system in America, the bond between business and government, the shadiness of surveillance, the connection between the media and the military, invasion of privacy, and other touchy issues. I didn't necessarily do research though. I let the information come to me and interpreted it on my own time. This may be why I tested as ISTP at one point. I had a Pink Floyd phase during this era of my life, if you catch my drift.
My grades during sophomore year? The first semester was pitiful by many peoples' standards, but I didn't care enough to fix the grades mainly because of my newfound beliefs of the school system. By then, I think, my defiance against my parents paid off. They didn't really care as much and grew a more "it's your life" attitude. Even my INTJ real dad (not proven but my educated guess; I've never talked about MBTI with any of my family members) adopted this mentality with me. He used to tell me I had Ivy League potential, but I think we've mutually agreed that they won't accept someone like me. While my parents weren't as imperious over me as they used to be, school staff started to reach out to me and try to help me get my grades back up. I was in danger of failing, but with the help of counselors and the flexibility of teachers, I was able to pass every subject for the year. My music and gym classes weren't an issue when it came to grades though; I loved those and didn't need to do homework to succeed. I started doing my work for other classes around the end of March 2014. The last blowup I had actually had one of the best results. It led me to this theme in my life that sometimes my rage leads to great things coming into my life. I literally ran from home in my poofy winter jacket in March to the high school. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and I planned on sleeping outside of school because I didn't want to stay at home. I think my parents confiscated my current laptop that time. So the school was open around 6pm, neat huh? I didn't expect it to be open. I'm slowly strolling around, and I get to the school auditorium. That's when I discover what I'd eventually do in my junior year: drama/musicals (no not high school musicals, closer to Broadway-esque, we got great lighting and all that jazz).
March 2014 - August 2014 is what I'd call "Recovery". I don't have too much to say about this, honestly. I was focused on saving my ass from repeating classes until the year ended. Despite lackluster course grades, I got better grades on the finals this year than in my freshman year. I took pride in identifying myself as the one who gets high test grades but low course grades. I still do. By the end of my sophomore year, my parents regained pride in me. We were getting along better. I noticed within me that I had developed a sense of self-identity. I felt mentally mature, and, yes, I still do. Now, I had an ambition. I wanted this to be the year that I try to develop my social life. I'm going to be in exclusive music groups and 2 AP classes. Maybe I can pursue and obtain a lot of happiness.
...
...
..
WRONG!
Hence this new phase of my life I'd like to call "Internal Conundrums", but I will not write anything about it yet since I'm still living in this phase. I can't really write it like a story because then it will turn into a question looking for answers to my current problems.
end prologue
Over the span of a weekend, my attitude toward homework went from mindlessly cramming it into my 'schedule' to, "Nah, I don't feel like doing it; it won't matter much anyway". When I selected my courses for sophomore, I filled my schedule to the hilt; no room for a lunch or study hall. Why did I do this? I was unaware of what was happening to me. I think some teachers sent phone calls home informing my parents of my missing work and whatnot. What was the brilliant solution to 'correct me'? Or was it a solution to 'scare me back into drone work'? My parents confiscated my first laptop, one of my favorite pastimes. They probably hoped that I would fill in the new gap of time catching up on schoolwork to earn back my computer. Naaaaah that didn't work. I would rather do nothing (seemingly) than do the work. Was it apathy creeping up on me? I had no explanation or awareness of my shifting attitude. Home started to become a less pleasurable place. I think my parents and I must've been playing tug of war with my 'possessions'. One day in June, they took away my computer again. This time I was angry; I was determined to get even. I got home from school before everyone else in the house, and I hid the power cable for the modem. After that, I got on my bike and rode to town without my phone. I wanted my parents to know (maybe even remember) what it feels like to lose something you desire. I was fed up with being treated like a child. I thought that they were trying to attack me, so I really wanted them to feel anger and fear. Anger that I bit back at them. Anger that they were losing control over me. Fear of not knowing where I am. Fear of being unable of reaching out to me. They would be left in a state of panic, confusion, desperation, desperation to come to terms with me.
I came back home hours later, but nobody tried to use the internet until I was already home. Hah, see, this is why I never truly liked planning lol. I think they suspected that I was up to no good; they must've put the pieces together: took the computer, missing cable, disobedience, let's accuse. I refused to tell them. And into the next morning, I still refused to tell them. That's when my stepfather took it upon himself to hold me up against the refrigerator hoping I'd give in. I still didn't say anything, and the bus passed the house by then. So much for taking my final exam for French. I got a 0 for it. My final course grades for my freshman year classes weren't as high as they could have been (90s), but they sufficed.
Now it's summer time. This is when I start analyzing this 'crisis'. That's what it felt like at the time anyway. I came up with some solution quickly and dismissed it as, "I'll be fine by the time school starts."
But my intolerance carries over to inside the household. My mother made it a habit to get wasted at night because her externship was stressing her out. Her boss was a bitch, basically. If she quit, she would have a really hard time replacing the externship and by extension graduating from college. It's required for her field of study.
I understand the frustration now, but then I had tunnel vision, if that's the right way to describe it. I was only focused on her poor way of coping with her day life. One day in the August before my sophomore year, I'm on my computer playing an online game in the bedroom. My brother is on his phone, presumably on some social media. She comes into the room and tells me, "You better shut that off or I'll take it from you," something to that extent. I'm thinking...what? It's 9pm in summer. What's her deal now? She didn't have anything to say to my brother but went straight for me? I thought, "This is an attack on me." The way she said it, too, immediately made me angry. She comes closer to my bed and says, "Shut it off." I tell her, "Get away from me." And you know what she did? She came even closer. That's when my conscious shut off.
fight scene
I moved my laptop to the side, got up and pushed her away from me all in one motion. She fell down and got up after a few seconds. She yells, "I'm going to f****** KILL YOU!" Seriously just like that. My conscious is off, however. I didn't think of things like, "How could she say something like that to me?" She charged at me, so I used her momentum to throw her to the other side of me. She flies over my bed and lands on the floor on her back. Now my mind is verifying what just happened. Mother gets up and holds me onto the bed, trying to break my arm. That's precisely what I yell to see how she reacts. After maybe 10 seconds, she lets go. I escape. This is when my brother runs out of the room. He ends up calling one of my stepfather's friends for help. When my mother comes at me again and charges into the wall, I go in front of her and hold her against it with my body for as long as I can. She kept yelling at me from behind, and I must've yelled "STOP" over 100 times between then and when the friend showed up. He threw me off of her and said, "You should NEVER put your hands on her again or I'll throw you through the window, and then I'll come right behind you." He would say something like that; this isn't my first time meeting him. I say, "I was trying to stop it." The two adults and my brother leave the room with the laptop, leaving me alone in the bedroom. My mother's crying in the kitchen. I'm crying in the room, astonished by the situation. I overhear, "...should've put a hammer to that computer. It's been causing so many problems," among other talk through walls. An hour later, my real dad from out of state shows up to pick me up and take me away for the night.
end fight scene
My solution for the problem was supposed to take effect during the start of my sophomore year, but the issue persisted. Again the prevalence of school, teachers, and report cards reignited the fire of that summer. This conflict seemed like it wasn't going to leave. My 15-year old self back then was out of solutions. This is when I think I was depressed but not diagnosed with something of the sort (is that even a thing?). I don't even know if it was depression or not. I actually asked my mother if I was depressed at one point in late 2014, of course when relations healed between us. I had some of the symptoms of depression but didn't quite feel like I was depressed but more of a state of readily available rage. We didn't have a definite answer for it.
From June 2013 to April 2014 is what I call the 'Dark Age' of my life. I took the MBTI once around January 2014 and tested as an ISTP. Again, I didn't think much of it. My brother broke my first laptop this month too but unintentionally. My real dad ordered me a new laptop as a gift, and this one was for gaming. It's the one I use now. Anyway, backtracking to 2014, the beginning of my sophomore year was when I started analyzing my teachers. How well were they teaching/doing their job? I also analyzed them as people. What are his/her beliefs? Do I agree with them? Why or why not? Liking or disliking teachers for me no longer became based around how much homework was assigned or how hard they made the class but how they taught, how they justified class rules, how personal they got with the class and/or me, how genuine they seemed, etc. I stopped respecting teachers for their authority. I respected teachers, if I could, for their personalities, morals, attitude, you get it. I still do. This year is when I started walking out of classes, forcefully moving objects, giving death stares, and other outlets for my stress with school, home, lack of social life...yeah. In my anger, I also tried to find reasons for everything. I questioned everything (tell me if you get this allusion). I came up with bold, liberal-like conclusions about the educational system in America, the bond between business and government, the shadiness of surveillance, the connection between the media and the military, invasion of privacy, and other touchy issues. I didn't necessarily do research though. I let the information come to me and interpreted it on my own time. This may be why I tested as ISTP at one point. I had a Pink Floyd phase during this era of my life, if you catch my drift.
My grades during sophomore year? The first semester was pitiful by many peoples' standards, but I didn't care enough to fix the grades mainly because of my newfound beliefs of the school system. By then, I think, my defiance against my parents paid off. They didn't really care as much and grew a more "it's your life" attitude. Even my INTJ real dad (not proven but my educated guess; I've never talked about MBTI with any of my family members) adopted this mentality with me. He used to tell me I had Ivy League potential, but I think we've mutually agreed that they won't accept someone like me. While my parents weren't as imperious over me as they used to be, school staff started to reach out to me and try to help me get my grades back up. I was in danger of failing, but with the help of counselors and the flexibility of teachers, I was able to pass every subject for the year. My music and gym classes weren't an issue when it came to grades though; I loved those and didn't need to do homework to succeed. I started doing my work for other classes around the end of March 2014. The last blowup I had actually had one of the best results. It led me to this theme in my life that sometimes my rage leads to great things coming into my life. I literally ran from home in my poofy winter jacket in March to the high school. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and I planned on sleeping outside of school because I didn't want to stay at home. I think my parents confiscated my current laptop that time. So the school was open around 6pm, neat huh? I didn't expect it to be open. I'm slowly strolling around, and I get to the school auditorium. That's when I discover what I'd eventually do in my junior year: drama/musicals (no not high school musicals, closer to Broadway-esque, we got great lighting and all that jazz).
March 2014 - August 2014 is what I'd call "Recovery". I don't have too much to say about this, honestly. I was focused on saving my ass from repeating classes until the year ended. Despite lackluster course grades, I got better grades on the finals this year than in my freshman year. I took pride in identifying myself as the one who gets high test grades but low course grades. I still do. By the end of my sophomore year, my parents regained pride in me. We were getting along better. I noticed within me that I had developed a sense of self-identity. I felt mentally mature, and, yes, I still do. Now, I had an ambition. I wanted this to be the year that I try to develop my social life. I'm going to be in exclusive music groups and 2 AP classes. Maybe I can pursue and obtain a lot of happiness.
...
...
..
WRONG!
Hence this new phase of my life I'd like to call "Internal Conundrums", but I will not write anything about it yet since I'm still living in this phase. I can't really write it like a story because then it will turn into a question looking for answers to my current problems.
end prologue
A few weeks ago, I tested as an INTP-A. For the first time, I agreed with everything in the overview. Typology finally captivated my mind. I've always been an ally with psychology, but I guess I used to regard MBTI as something silly? I surfed multiple websites gathering lots of information regarding my type, different types, cognitive functions, and eventually this website that I once lurked. I think, at heart, I'm an INTP, but...reading others' posts here actually...makes me feel less intelligent for once. I don't know how to feel about that. Remember when I was saying how I wanted my junior year (current year) to be the year in which I socialize with people? I guess the saying, "If you associate yourself with idiots for long enough, you too will be an idiot," holds true here. For a while, I've been putting my Ti on hold. As another website put it, I've been the "Entertainer" for my peers for months, hence my notion of "Internal Conundrums". I've failed to connect with the overwhelming majority of S types in society. Even suspected NFs aren't drawn-....even suspected NTs don't seek my company. I have a suspected ENTP English teacher who likes me (and I like him a lot, so I actively seek his company), but that seems to be about it.
I think I'm an INTP but I also question if I actually am one. I've tested in my youth as INTJ, in dark times as ISTP, and even one time recently as an INFP...not that I think emotions are sinful or whatever, but I don't assume the worst in people. I want to connect with people (this might have been the biggest motive behind me coming here), but they don't want to connect with me. I take it that this community is full of like-minded people. Maybe you guys can fine-tune my brain and help me restore my potential as a smart person. We can enjoy abstract conversations together and not be afraid of sharing our imaginations... I've been reduced to small talk for a while now. I want to live as my true self.
_______
I think that's all I have to say for now. I've ran out of juice. It's midnight now. I read one of the recent intro threads, and it compelled me to make a disclaimer:
This was not meant to seek attention or sympathy. This was not meant for me to boast about me growing up.
I don't have ill intentions. I just really don't want to let society hurt me any more than it already has, and, if you want to look at it this way, I didn't spend two hours pulling a story out of my ass to get laughs. I pulled it out of my head while eating cookies and drinking mango juice lol. Finé
Edit: I read this over, and I'm like...did I even intro.? I feel like I wrote more of an autobiography, but..wouldn't that be an intr- ah screw it, just call me out on whatever if you see fit
I don't write often. Most of my writing is for school.
