Why..What is was meant to be

Introspection has not led to understanding. Though it has served up a plausible hypothesis, that one can comprehend, to explain Why I am the way I am, acting and responding in the way I do.
Its tough trying to understand oneself when the mind provides but patchy memories, evokes no feelings about all ones experiences and interfaces in life, whether in the present or on reflection. It sounds absurd not to be able to recollect a life one has lived. Not to recall a sense of the emotions felt in situations. not to be touched by, or feel in relationships even in the present.
The strange part though is that one lived 48 years clueless about these facets and, the kind of person one was.
That it was an aberrant life is borne out by the consequences. I really don't know if things could've been different. I guess not. That would require me to be somebody else.
Who I am, What I am, Why I am are just contextual realities defined by knowledge, skill and abilities acquired through life and utilised as best able, to maintain comfort zones one created. Spaces and situations that provided acceptance, inclusion. Ones choices guided by a need for approval and to belong.
Without any embedded values from family or religion, choice tended to be determined by "feel good' in the moment.Which basically meant coping with perceived low self esteem issues that came to be as a product of ones nurturing. No sense of family, peer bonding, skin color jibes and no direction. That's hindsight from introspection. Why the senses the senses are numbed by a veneer of apathy. Why thought and response are sluggish.
Why food and a roof over my head I now take for granted as a birthright, from my parents. Without conscience bothering me. I didn't ask to be brought into this world, so they too have to cope with the outcomes of my life and my state of being - a perspective that cocoons my existence now and..frees me.
My hypothesis of Why what is derives from a combo of the nature and nurture impacts. The resultant of how my genes - nature, coped with the experiential frame of my life - nurture. I guess that's true for everybody but when you start out with a potentially defective gene pool, what is nurtured also evolves into something aberrant.
A history of clinical depression on both sides of the family tree, may have primed my DNA. I became aware of that much after my first manic depressive attack at 23. An explanation for this....as obvious destiny?
Nurture led to the absence of an emotional framework - a void at the root of the many issues in my life. The lack of relationships and bonding provided little chance for feeling to develop beyond a sense. The early hostel years smothered the family bond. Completing schooling in another 4 locations in 2 countries saw one always on the fringes of peer bonding experiences.
Memories from that period play out as hazy, static images, occupying less than 5 minutes of conscious recall. Then again, memory and recall of all my life has this elusive still image quality. I'm never in the frame and there's no feel of the experience either. Just the flash of an image in the blink of an eye, a hint that an event took place, when one attempts recall.Its been 3 years of trawling what memory the mind has to offer. strangely, very little. Recall is mainly of consequences of aberrant behavior, showing a person I didn't know I was but must've been. The mind only dredges up what wasn't amidst the many deficiencies of a life that was. Its a bleak mind space in which I now roam, trying to understand, my persona so flawed.
I guess its difficult for the normal average person to picture a state of mind without thought, to feel no emotion, nothing touching you or triggering memory. Strange! But that's how it is. Maybe its just the years of neglecting to introspect. Reflect and understand oneself and ones purpose in this world that's resulted in a sieve like memory. Life happened but didn't register. It left an under developed thought process and framework of learning. I don't know if those are innate traits or learn't or just acquired by necessity. It appears that mine haven't served me appropriately.
I never knew nor thought about where I was headed. No weight of expectations, no direction provided. So, this place I am at now is where the roads that I traveled on, deposited me. Essentially, What is came to be because it was meant to be.
Escapist and fatalistic as that sounds, its a comprehension that keeps one away from the self pitying frame of "Why me?".
My hypothesis is that the nature-nurture combo dictated ones choices in seeking perceived comfort zones. Hence, What is, was meant to be. One chose it to be as per ones situational abilities.

I now seem to be a prisoner of my mind. Shackled by its inadequacies and fenced in by the deficiencies of being it keeps reminding me of. A mind that has abdicated its pro-activity in guiding the activities of my existence. Seems often to adopt a lobotomised state, leaving one staring vacantly without a feel or sense of what ones life is all about. Apathy is the closest description. Off and on, when one prods oneself into inquiring Why, all one gets are stills of moments from life that evoke no feeling nor tell one about oneself in that moment.
Though I don't really like who I am and what I've become, there's nothing I can do to change that. The absurdity of having lived 48 years of ones life ignorant of ones self though, is mind bowing.