Hi, I’m Mitch. My cosplay persona is Nekobishi. I’m writing this because I simply can’t be silent anymore. I’m not a quiet person, I’m the type that wreaks havoc wherever there is the slightest unjustice or discomfort. There’s a lot of corruption, gullibility and general blindness going on in the world, and the city, but my target today is the cosplay community here in ABQ.
I’m writing this, not as an ode to myself, but as a way to pull open my head and show you my brain. I'm pointing at various parts and saying, “Hey, you can’t see this normally so let me explain!” I wan’t you to understand me, so the next time you think about how you don’t like me and can't think up a reason why, you can refer to this and think, “Is my hatred misplaced?” There are quite a number of people I have never interacted with that I have been told don’t like me, and for what reason? What grounds do you have if you can’t even call me up on the phone so we can work it out? And believe me, if I could pinpoint every instance of this and corner you into telling me why, I would. But as I am a simple human being, that proves impossible. It’s your turn to come to me, tell me why you don’t like me- then we can work this out.
Anger is a valid emotion. All emotions are valid and meant to be felt. Mine as much as yours. I can be angry, and justly so; at an individual, at the world, it doesn’t matter. You can be angry, and that is ok! I have justified my anger within myself, so now you can choose to be understanding, and let this thing slide. I can do the same for you. In fact, I am willing to do more! I will sit and listen for hours, I can offer my advice, I can talk to you in person or over the phone (despite both being anxiety inducing) but I’m willing to get over it, because I want so badly to mend our relationship, that's been ended before it could even begin. Most of the community says they're sick of drama and sick of corrupt people ruining everyone's good time. If you feel this way, then DO SOMETHING. You have a problem with someone? You wake up that courage in you, and you go talk to them. You don’t even have to work anything out, because agreeing to disagree is definitely a solution! There- done! Don’t be blind to rumors, don’t be gullible. You’re smarter than that. Do you personally know the person you’re being told about? Have you met them, or even seen them doing what people are claiming they did? You reserve your first impressions until you have the guts to go up to this person and talk to them. This should be the rule of thumb for the community, and I would like to implement it now.
Here’s my personal story- I’ll try to keep it brief:
(Trigger warning for self harm & suicide attempts)
I grew up internationally, my parents were music teachers, so we lived in parts of the Middle East and northern Africa. I’ve been exposed to a religion accepting lifestyle since I was born, continuing until I was around eight years old, which is when we settled in Santa Fe. My mother is Russian, and after a traumatic experience in her life she moved to Oregon, where she met my dad in a grieving group. That’s messed up, right? Being born on the foundation of grief? A few years later my brother was born.
My mother, having a fiery personality and raised in Russia, was extremely strict and disciplined me and my brother harshly. My dad being, a doormat, just allowed her to do this. When he wasn’t, he had extreme anger issues. I’m hesitant to say it anywhere- in fear of slandering my parents (whom I love dearly, and have accepted their fundamental mistakes). They were both violent, and when my brother and I weren’t exactly what they wanted, it came out. This wasn’t a frequent occurrence, but the threats of this punishment were. I played soccer, figure skated, did ballet and theater, played the piano, sang, and drew. My parents were very invested in the “Do everything until you find what you like” method for a short while. They encouraged me to draw, and being one of the only visual artists in the family, they payed for a lot of traditional, still life drawing lessons with a friend of the family. I loved figure skating dearly, but as my mother told me: "You don’t have the ‘body’ for it", and so, she would not endorse coaching for me. I tried for years to teach myself, and was fairly successful, but as highschool neared I couldn’t find the time and I gave in to discouragement. I was highly successful and gifted in piano, winning many city wide competitions throughout my elementary years. I hated it. I hated my mother when she would teach me and yell at me. I quit as soon as I could.
I knew I was into girls the same way as boys when I was in elementary school- I remember looking up porn and being just as interested in the girls. I called myself a tomboy all the while wearing pink, bows, and cute skirts. I didn’t realize that was what that was until 8th grade, where I openly stated my bisxuality. Then came my gender fluidity, starting with cosplay. I got a binder and went “Hey, this is actually pretty cool. I think I’ll be a boy today” and that has continued for about 3 years now. I’m also pansexual, dating both a cis boy and trans boy. To wrap it all together in a nice little bow- I’m a pansexual, polyamorous genderfluid person.
I was diagnosed with major depression when I was 14, after a suicide attempt. I tried to drink bleach, it was horrible and burned and was so painful that I stuck a spoon down my throat to vomit it all out. There wasn’t much damage as I barely drank any before deciding it was too horrible to go through. I asked to go to the hospital immediately following, and my doctor saw my wrists and made a sad, clicking sound. I remember how soft his touch was and thinking how could a person be so gentle? I was prescribed Zoloft, the dosage was upped every 4 months for 2 years and didn’t manage to make me any better. All I got from that was periodical nausea. Then, I was on Prozac for another year, until I decided that this pharmaceutical shit was fucked up. I tried counseling, which ultimately turned into family counseling, and then my mother counseling. During this time there were many instances I remember where I jumped out my window, took my bike out in the middle of the night. Once getting hit by a car, and more fequently walking through the forest cutting myself. My parents were still violent, not knowing what to do with me and my unending sadness. At school, my grades tanked because of it. After auditioning into the new art school in town (NMSA) for visual art, I felt pretty awesome. That was until my grades got lower and lower. Art was easy and fun, challenging but I loved it. I would get above average grades in most of those classes. I took a theater and music appreciation, passing with flying colors. When it came to academics, I kept barely passing, over and over until I actually did fail. I would have tutoring in the morning for half the week, and a physicist from Los Alamos would see me in the morning the other half, and I would go for more help during lunch, and then Sylvan after school to try and pass. I failed math regardless. I was sick of asking for help with it making little to no difference. I was sick of my parents being horrible, I was sick of feeling friendless. I decided to waste my amazing art school opportunity and do online schooling. My mom would have none of that, forcing me to choose- living with my family and staying at NMSA, or moving out and doing online school somewhere else. I withdrew from school without telling anyone. I was ashamed and felt like a failure. Being from the household I was, I had grown up to be a perfectionist. Luckily, this was during the time I met the first light of my life. This gorgeous boy was interested in almost everything I was, and we took to liking each other almost immediately. His family took me in without question, which was totally bizarre because I was so used to the cold, unwavering discipline of my mother. It was a very hard time for me. I broke up with my previous, also majorly depressed boyfriend for someone else, and it’s shitty of me to say but it broke my heart. I was sad to leave him. It was awful of me but I couldn’t see anyone but myself in terms of getting better. I was taking this energy and throwing it out into the aether instead of trying to fix myself, someone who was slowly becoming less and less sociable and more uncaring and apathetic as my depression remained untreated. I think he’s doing okay now, dating a friend of mine with whom he moved far away. I hope.
I am still very actively fighting my depression, and have had a couple of recent and profound breakthroughs. I still struggle to go through school and struggle interacting with people. But I’m learning to work through it. I play piano again, I’ve found the love I used to have buried beneath a decade of trauma by my mother. I want everyone to be safe, and happy, and know they can come to me in their time of need, no matter what. I want my beautiful, kind friends free of rumors because they choose to love me publicly. I want them safe.
I want you: Safe, and happy
Call/Text me: 505-920-5347
.
I’m writing this, not as an ode to myself, but as a way to pull open my head and show you my brain. I'm pointing at various parts and saying, “Hey, you can’t see this normally so let me explain!” I wan’t you to understand me, so the next time you think about how you don’t like me and can't think up a reason why, you can refer to this and think, “Is my hatred misplaced?” There are quite a number of people I have never interacted with that I have been told don’t like me, and for what reason? What grounds do you have if you can’t even call me up on the phone so we can work it out? And believe me, if I could pinpoint every instance of this and corner you into telling me why, I would. But as I am a simple human being, that proves impossible. It’s your turn to come to me, tell me why you don’t like me- then we can work this out.
Anger is a valid emotion. All emotions are valid and meant to be felt. Mine as much as yours. I can be angry, and justly so; at an individual, at the world, it doesn’t matter. You can be angry, and that is ok! I have justified my anger within myself, so now you can choose to be understanding, and let this thing slide. I can do the same for you. In fact, I am willing to do more! I will sit and listen for hours, I can offer my advice, I can talk to you in person or over the phone (despite both being anxiety inducing) but I’m willing to get over it, because I want so badly to mend our relationship, that's been ended before it could even begin. Most of the community says they're sick of drama and sick of corrupt people ruining everyone's good time. If you feel this way, then DO SOMETHING. You have a problem with someone? You wake up that courage in you, and you go talk to them. You don’t even have to work anything out, because agreeing to disagree is definitely a solution! There- done! Don’t be blind to rumors, don’t be gullible. You’re smarter than that. Do you personally know the person you’re being told about? Have you met them, or even seen them doing what people are claiming they did? You reserve your first impressions until you have the guts to go up to this person and talk to them. This should be the rule of thumb for the community, and I would like to implement it now.
Here’s my personal story- I’ll try to keep it brief:
(Trigger warning for self harm & suicide attempts)
I grew up internationally, my parents were music teachers, so we lived in parts of the Middle East and northern Africa. I’ve been exposed to a religion accepting lifestyle since I was born, continuing until I was around eight years old, which is when we settled in Santa Fe. My mother is Russian, and after a traumatic experience in her life she moved to Oregon, where she met my dad in a grieving group. That’s messed up, right? Being born on the foundation of grief? A few years later my brother was born.
My mother, having a fiery personality and raised in Russia, was extremely strict and disciplined me and my brother harshly. My dad being, a doormat, just allowed her to do this. When he wasn’t, he had extreme anger issues. I’m hesitant to say it anywhere- in fear of slandering my parents (whom I love dearly, and have accepted their fundamental mistakes). They were both violent, and when my brother and I weren’t exactly what they wanted, it came out. This wasn’t a frequent occurrence, but the threats of this punishment were. I played soccer, figure skated, did ballet and theater, played the piano, sang, and drew. My parents were very invested in the “Do everything until you find what you like” method for a short while. They encouraged me to draw, and being one of the only visual artists in the family, they payed for a lot of traditional, still life drawing lessons with a friend of the family. I loved figure skating dearly, but as my mother told me: "You don’t have the ‘body’ for it", and so, she would not endorse coaching for me. I tried for years to teach myself, and was fairly successful, but as highschool neared I couldn’t find the time and I gave in to discouragement. I was highly successful and gifted in piano, winning many city wide competitions throughout my elementary years. I hated it. I hated my mother when she would teach me and yell at me. I quit as soon as I could.
I knew I was into girls the same way as boys when I was in elementary school- I remember looking up porn and being just as interested in the girls. I called myself a tomboy all the while wearing pink, bows, and cute skirts. I didn’t realize that was what that was until 8th grade, where I openly stated my bisxuality. Then came my gender fluidity, starting with cosplay. I got a binder and went “Hey, this is actually pretty cool. I think I’ll be a boy today” and that has continued for about 3 years now. I’m also pansexual, dating both a cis boy and trans boy. To wrap it all together in a nice little bow- I’m a pansexual, polyamorous genderfluid person.
I was diagnosed with major depression when I was 14, after a suicide attempt. I tried to drink bleach, it was horrible and burned and was so painful that I stuck a spoon down my throat to vomit it all out. There wasn’t much damage as I barely drank any before deciding it was too horrible to go through. I asked to go to the hospital immediately following, and my doctor saw my wrists and made a sad, clicking sound. I remember how soft his touch was and thinking how could a person be so gentle? I was prescribed Zoloft, the dosage was upped every 4 months for 2 years and didn’t manage to make me any better. All I got from that was periodical nausea. Then, I was on Prozac for another year, until I decided that this pharmaceutical shit was fucked up. I tried counseling, which ultimately turned into family counseling, and then my mother counseling. During this time there were many instances I remember where I jumped out my window, took my bike out in the middle of the night. Once getting hit by a car, and more fequently walking through the forest cutting myself. My parents were still violent, not knowing what to do with me and my unending sadness. At school, my grades tanked because of it. After auditioning into the new art school in town (NMSA) for visual art, I felt pretty awesome. That was until my grades got lower and lower. Art was easy and fun, challenging but I loved it. I would get above average grades in most of those classes. I took a theater and music appreciation, passing with flying colors. When it came to academics, I kept barely passing, over and over until I actually did fail. I would have tutoring in the morning for half the week, and a physicist from Los Alamos would see me in the morning the other half, and I would go for more help during lunch, and then Sylvan after school to try and pass. I failed math regardless. I was sick of asking for help with it making little to no difference. I was sick of my parents being horrible, I was sick of feeling friendless. I decided to waste my amazing art school opportunity and do online schooling. My mom would have none of that, forcing me to choose- living with my family and staying at NMSA, or moving out and doing online school somewhere else. I withdrew from school without telling anyone. I was ashamed and felt like a failure. Being from the household I was, I had grown up to be a perfectionist. Luckily, this was during the time I met the first light of my life. This gorgeous boy was interested in almost everything I was, and we took to liking each other almost immediately. His family took me in without question, which was totally bizarre because I was so used to the cold, unwavering discipline of my mother. It was a very hard time for me. I broke up with my previous, also majorly depressed boyfriend for someone else, and it’s shitty of me to say but it broke my heart. I was sad to leave him. It was awful of me but I couldn’t see anyone but myself in terms of getting better. I was taking this energy and throwing it out into the aether instead of trying to fix myself, someone who was slowly becoming less and less sociable and more uncaring and apathetic as my depression remained untreated. I think he’s doing okay now, dating a friend of mine with whom he moved far away. I hope.
I am still very actively fighting my depression, and have had a couple of recent and profound breakthroughs. I still struggle to go through school and struggle interacting with people. But I’m learning to work through it. I play piano again, I’ve found the love I used to have buried beneath a decade of trauma by my mother. I want everyone to be safe, and happy, and know they can come to me in their time of need, no matter what. I want my beautiful, kind friends free of rumors because they choose to love me publicly. I want them safe.
I want you: Safe, and happy
Call/Text me: 505-920-5347
.