Discontented Late Night Thoughts

I feel like there is some secret to normality that my parents forgot to share with me. While I was watching the Muppets and fearing imperfection, were other kids being encoded with the things which tell them it's okay to fuck up? Were other kids learning how to let loose and lose control? While I was tapping it out to Bread were other kids learning the rhythm of hip hop when they were 8 years old? Were they learning conformity while I was learning to scream?
I feel like my parents forgot to teach me the secret on how to capture contentedness. My whole life has been a series of misplaced traps that only lure in more restlessness. How do you quiet your mind? Is that why people drink? Do they find where they belong in bottles and the bodies of others? Do they quell every ounce of angst in vice and virtue? Am I the only one whose life is made up of trying to outrun the edge of sanity?
I feel my finger tips trying to draw chaos through my life. I recognize cuffs that bruise my wrists. It's all in my mind and I cannot escape it.
I don't know how to escape a reality that I built.
I don't know how to create my own set of keys.
I don't know how to pretend to be just another teen.