My worst day of my life

My worst day of my life was around the end of 2019 through the beginning of 2020. So like between November 2019 and February 2020. A lot of bad things happened up to this point, so it was a slow burn of me bottling it all in and then it exploding.

First off, Juice WRLD, my favorite musician, rapper and artist of all time died on December 8th, 2019. I remember waking up that morning and seeing the news of how he died. I won’t like, it’s kind of fucked up, but I was kind of perked up reading it. Yes he was and still is my favorite artist. But all his songs are very sad. I found that even though I loved his songs, they usually made his sad when listening, and might have even made my depression worse over all.

My Dad also at one time in my life found me listening to sad music from Juice WRLD and Lil Peep and he told me not to listen to them because they would just make me sad. I also remember a car ride with my Dad when I was playing the song ‘Legends’ by Juice WRLD and he listened to the lyrics and called Juice WRLD stupid. That kind of hurt me.

So yeah. Juice WRLD died and it hit me so hard. I felt like his lyrics broke through to me and that he was a friend even though he was a musician across the world who I never spoke to.

Then I got busted for weed three times by my hall director in my college dorm. He called the cops on me three times. The first, a cop ambushed me after class and gave me a ticket. Then another, I had smoked in the bathroom and was playing video games in my room, and my hall director used his keys to open my room and ambush me. Then the third, my hall director again barged in my room and found a blunt in the toilet and called the cops. I flushed the blunt before they got there so when they arrived I didn’t get in trouble.

Then the fourth semester of college started. I remember waking up the first day of school that semester and it was dead quiet. All my roommates moved out of their rooms with no warning or telling me. I was all alone and coming down from major paranoid weed highs and from having mini-panick attacks from run ins with the police. I really needed someone to talk to. But more so. I just needed to put the weed down and sleep. I believe I was up all night.

Then something triggered me so bad which I can’t remember. But I remember hearing voices and neighbors and janitors talking about me behind the front door of my main door. I was going crazy. No sleep and paranoid of everyone after the cops were called on me. And coming down from major weed highs.

I had this grand epiphany that if I got rid of all the money I had, that i’d no longer be able to get unlimited weed, so it’d prevent me from being high and paranoid all the time. And that i’d be forced to take life seriously again, and go to classes, get a degree, get a job, and live a normal life again.

I had at the time, 15.6 bitcoin on a bitcoin storage device called a Trezor. It was worth $150,000 at the time. I had a bitcoin debit card that I could transfer bitcoin on to and withdraw it for real money. So yes, I actually had $150,000 in bitcoin at the time that I could convert into real money and cash if I wanted to. And I was 19 years old. If I had that 15.6 bitcoin today, i’d have over $1,000,000. I had gotten that bitcoin from age 15 to 19. I scammed Amazon by repeatedly buying stuff on there from random customers and lying and saying the stuff was never delivered. Then i’d get bitcoin for each order, and make 4x the initial capital I put in for the orders, since I could keep lying and refunding and doubling, tripling, and quadrupling and more of my money.

So I flushed the Trezor and the recovery seeds down the toilet in my college hall, so there’d be no possible way to get the money back. Then I called my brother sobbing and hysterical telling him everything: how i’d been high all the time and losing my mind. How my hall director called the cops on me. How my roommates just left me with no warning. And how I had all this money that I had gotten through fraud, and while it let me live an easy life, it was ‘blood money’ and that I kept feeling guilty over and over that I hadt the money and that it was actually causing major suicidal ideation (it was).

At the time, it seemed right. Afterwards, I went back home. I have now been at home for six years straight now after all that. I went home at the start of covid. What’s happened since then? I have developed a chronic cough, chronic headache, chronic neck pain, fear of being myself, fear of upsetting my parents, the constant need to revolve around my family’s schedule, tons of fights with my Dad, Stepmom, Brother, and Grandma. Having to work a minimum wage job for $16 an hour when I would have had 1.5 million dollars right now. Constant regret, and like I said, all these health conditions. If I could, i’d go back and keep the money. It has not really worked out living life the ‘hard’ and ‘normal’ way. I have gained savings purely from being on government disability. I am not able to work a normal job at all right now.

Yes, besides the chronic pain and conditions, I guess it’s worth it? I learned how to read books much faster, i’ve put a shit ton more time into real hobbies like video editing, writing, graphic design, coding, game design, vlogging, storytelling and helping with chores and being accountable. But I still have no idea if I even move out, i’ll be healthy and pain free again. I think I permanently ruined my life, but I am open and hopeful that things could be happy again.

Oh yeah, and I guess flushing the money did help me get sober. I’ve been sober from nicotine, weed, caffeine, and LSD for three years now. I also quit League of Legends, my video game addiction and pretty much any other video game too. I learned how to start from nothing and to continually avoid conflict with family, do chores with complaining, and wake up daily even though I don’t want to. Plus, I started boxing which is something I might have not done if I had the bitcoin still. Oh yeah and I got a bachelor’s degree and have worked 9 jobs since then, which is an accomplishment I think at 25.

I might have never done boxing and stayed sober this long. Boxing has given me a sort of purpose and ritual and discipline. It has made me decide to not eat fast food for like three months now and I lost 7 pounds and am consistent with weight loss and eating more healthy now. In total I was around 275 at one point a year ago and was prediabetic. Now I am 249 and am not fucking around and flip flopping. Each day I push myself to eat as healthy and as little as possible and not just fuck around and keep going back up whenever I lose weight, so i’m staying consistent. I’m trying to be disciplined and cut out bread. I love bagels and cereal but I must learn to move on and cut back as much as possible. I also am trying to cut back on porn and masturbation as much as possible.

So yeah, I have a more disciplined life now. But i’m only ok with it all at the end of the day. It is so hard starting the day and waking up without coffee or jerking off. And knowing I must make progress towards making money or a productive hobby each day to feel okay with going to sleep. I hope one day I can finally just make some money so I can take a deep breath and allow myself to just chill for a day or so. Cause for the past 90 days, I have not missed a day of working on a hobby or project that I hope will make me money so I can forgive myself for flushing my Trezor. I hope one day I can make money from a hustle like that and not a horrible real job. Then when I make it, I can take a deep breath and forgive myself, atleast temporarily, and chill.

Thanks for reading.

-Viper.