This is likely the most uncomfortable blog entry I will ever have to write, for it concerns matters and issues that are deeply, deeply personal to me, things I have never had the courage to confront until now.
To all the people I have known, to every single person in my personal life, or the lives of those close to them, to every person I have ever brought hurt, ever intimidated with my intensity or personality, to every single one that I have ever been responsible for bringing negative feelings into their lives, to every one of them, I offer my most humble, my most profound, and my deepest apologies.  I must go further than that; as part of a healing process begun in me by the love of my life, I must offer a history, an explanation for why, and I humbly ask for your patience, and for your time, to read this. It will do nothing to lessen what I have done to others, but may offer a better perspective on the underlying cause, and a better, clearer understanding of how our lives are shaped and affected by our experiences, and may even help others who have suffered similar experiences and symptoms.
I say symptoms, because I can finally admit that I suffer from issues caused by my past, by my upbringing and environment, and realize for the first time, how much pain and misery those symptoms have been responsible for, not only in myself, but in all those that have known me.  I want to give all those who have been affected by these issues the facts surrounding them, so that they can understand more fully the person they know, or knew.
I am not a bad person.  I am not a mean person.  I do not lie, or cheat on those I love.  I value honesty, truth, and love above all things.  I believe in the virtuous heart, and in true love.  I believe that all people can become better than what they are now, if they only want it bad enough.  Deep down, I believe in the goodness of humanity, and believe we are all born innocent; it is only through heartless times, cruelty, and poisoned environments, that we become less than what we could be, and in some cases, become monsters.
As far as environment, I was raised in one that was extremely toxic.  The source of this began many years ago, when my grandmother was but an infant.  Due to factors beyond her control, she was treated to nothing but disdain as a child, to bitterness and harsh, severely painful punishment and abuse, and at some point, something broke inside her.  This led to her having to live with severe psychological disorders.  Most likely, she would have been diagnosed as Histrionic, and suffering from Borderline-Personality Disorder, and possibly several others.  She was incredibly violent, prone to episodes of delusion and disassociation, and did all she could to infect everyone around her with bitterness, despair, and pain.  This in turn affected every single member of our family to come from her, in her four children, their children, and their children's children.  In three generations, every member of the that branch of our family tree, has been affected to a great degree by those disorders.  In three generations, we have only had a single member remain married to their first partner.  Three generations of misery have sprung from one source, and no one has been spared.  The worst thing about this is, not only were these people afflicted with things that they did not deserve, but were prevented from seeking any kind of help; my grandmother had a severe matriarchal complex, and could not let anyone admit that they had a problem; it would reflect badly on her, and such things were never allowed, which I believe is symptomatic of the above described conditions.  I had more than one opportunity as a child to be treated, to stop the darkness from taking such a strong hold on me, but my grandmother actively prevented me from seeking, or receiving, such help.  At one point in my life, when I was older, and a single parent, I attempted to remove myself from that environment, not only for my sake, but for the sake of my children, and upon learning this, she went so far as to threaten me with arrest on charges of child molestation should I attempt it.  I remember her exact words to me: "If you ever, EVER, try to leave, I will have you arrested as a child molester, and you will never see your children again."  When I protested that she could never make such a ridiculous charge stick, she replied, "who do you think they would believe? You, or your grandfather? I'll make him say whatever I want, and with his position, who do you think they would believe?"  This is the extent to which that dark side of her, something that has been passed onto every member of my family, will do to protect itself.  My grandfather was a noble man, but his one weakness was that his wife could dominate him, make him believe, and do, anything she desired.  He was widely respected in legal circles, knew every judge in every court on a first name basis, and was called upon as an expert witness as part of his career.  Against such a threat, what is a twenty-two year old to do?  They were both trained investigators, and had the means to know every move I made.  Every phone conversation in my house, the entire time I lived with them was recorded, every movement monitored.  Both my brother and I were often followed, both by my grandparents, and by trained private investigators, our day to day lives scrutinized, and any attempt we made to grow as human beings, to become strong, or confident, or independent, destroyed before it could take root.
Ask yourself, what hope does a young man have against such things?
This is not an excuse, but merely an attempt to show how much we, as children, and later, adults, suffered, the enormity of just how difficult it was to try to do anything that would result in us shaking free of the toxic feelings and environment we were being poisoned with.  
As a result, I grew up with absolutely no real sense of confidence, absolutely no sense of worth or value as a human being, or even a clue as how to attain those things.  As an artistic, empathetic, emotional being, I could not face this, and the pain it brought, and constructed a false front that was so convincing, it fooled even me.  I wanted people to think I was invulnerable to pain, to insult, and wanted to project that in a way that would ensure I never had to worry about being hurt again, and I did it so well, that I allowed it to build an almost impenetrable shield around the real Michael Vain.  That person was still in there, and on all those occasions, those occasions where I was cruel, where I projected that aura of intimidation and intensity, it would speak up, would try to prevent me from doing what that part of me, the vital, feeling part, knew was not right. So many times, I ignored that voice.  I allowed that part of me to continue unchecked, and made decisions that did nothing but protect that darkness, rather than shine light on it.
Occasionally, I got it right, and did listen to what it had to say.  In my twenties, I met a very nice young girl when I owned my comic book store (I'm not going to name names; she knows who she is) and though there was an attraction between us, I knew that for us to be any closer than we were would only end in disaster.  Not only because of my condition, but because that inner part of me has always been more connected to the source, more connected to the Universe, than any other part of me, and it knew that we were meant to only be friends.  If that person is reading this, they may remember me saying, "Yes, I understand that there is this attraction, but for me to cross that line would be wrong for both of us."  I did not say this to her for any other reason, than I was acting on the part of me that was untainted, that one little part of me that I managed to hide from that darkness, and allowed it to speak through it for the sake of sparing greater pain to all involved.  It was one of the few times that I 