Her Final Unveiling
I worry about my future. My past is fucked. My present is… manageable. My future is unknown.
Things are clearly changing for the better. Truthfully, it is happening fast. It has really only been 3 months since I really started trying to change things. I’ve had the tools to paint for nearly 2 years now but I didn’t really pick the airbrush back up until 2 months ago. I’ve had the support around me to lose weight for many years, but I never asked for help until 3 months ago. Things really are going well for me now, but all I can think about is how I’m still doing it all alone. I have my friends and my family, but I need more than that. My greatest fear is that I will never see it. Some part of me knows otherwise, but it refuses to accept it based upon my own fucked up history.
In truth, I fucked myself over on it all. I’m the reason I’m still alone. I’ve wanted it so badly for so long, but I never really tried for it. Not after Anna destroyed me. We were just kids and I was a fool beyond belief, but I pinned hopes on her and I didn’t know how wrong I was until it was far too late. I was wrong to have wanted from her what I did, but there was no need for her to let me down the way that she did. In one fell swoop, she dashed everything I was. She cut the fragile little thread that was keeping me from going over the edge.
On that day, I died. May 23rd, 2004. She told me I wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t a strong enough man of god for her. That I needed serious help. And I believed her. I gave up on everything I had known after she said that. I never actively pursued anyone after that. I stopped going to church. I stopped caring about anything. I stopped being that christian boy I had always been. I’d never cared much for myself prior to that, but afterwards… there was nothing but self-hatred. I was broken and I had no idea how to fix it. She wasn’t the cause of the entire breakage, she was just the last hammerfall, the one that shattered the last of what remained. And through it all, I blamed everyone but myself. I was the cause of it, but it was easier to accept that others had done it.
I’ve only told two people what happened that day. It took me years to tell it the first time and the second time was just a few weeks back. Much change has centered around finally talking about it and realizing how greatly it has affected me. I thought I had moved past it a few years ago when I finally realized some hard truths about her and the entire situation, but I think really, I was just coping with it all. It seems ridiculous that one girl could have had that power over me, but she did. I doubt she even knew. I was far more invested in it all than she was, and that was a big part of the downfall.
It was also something I repeated for many years afterwards. I never actively sought anyone… ever, but I would find women on the internet and I would let them use me for whatever emotional needs they had so that I could at least feel some semblance of a relationship. I always knew it was headed nowhere, but I let myself care just so I could feel something. I’d let it play out until they disappeared or I couldn’t handle it anymore. I always told myself they were the ones turning on me and hurting me, but I was the one doing it all. I was using them as much as they used me. They were surrogates. I could love them knowing I would be able to hate them when it ended. I wanted to feel bad. I was punishing myself. For what, I do not know, but I know that’s what it was. I thought I deserved it.
One major change recently was when I started to play that out again. I managed to change it though. I managed to express how I felt and what I wanted, something I never did before. It’s turned out well for me. We’ll not be together in the manner I wanted, but it has been an amazing friendship and I do not mourn that it will be something other than what I wanted. It turned out to be not what I wanted, but what I needed, which is far greater.
Normally, I would start to spiral after I had begun talking to a new woman. It was inevitable. Things would start off well and then I would eventually turn to darker and darker places until it consumed me and I would turn on myself. The last time I did it, I went so deep I cut off contact with everyone. It got bad. There was alcohol and a knife… though nothing happened there. That’s where I gained much of the weight I am trying to shed now. I turned on myself and I gave up. I didn’t talk to anyone for 6 months and it all fed back into itself, drawing me deeper and deeper, but I’ve talked on that plenty before.
This time though, it was different. It started in a similar manner, but it will not end anywhere close to where the others did. Things I never foresaw are happening and will happen. I still fear it though. Until the time I find the one that wants to be with me long term, I will always fear that I am building things up in my mind until they are far greater than reality ever was. I’ve done it every other time, why not this one? It’s a thought I need to quell, but it is persistent and pervasive. I fight it and tell myself I am fucking with my own head, but it is there. The thought is weaker than it used to be though.
At the end of the day, I’ve come a long way, but I still have further yet to go. I have to find a place where I am happy with myself before I can be happy with someone else. That thought hurts some, because I can’t remember the last time I was happy with myself. I’m closer than ever before, but I still have to wait, and that is difficult for me, though I’ve really only been waiting a few months now. I know it’ll come in time, but I get impatient. I always have been.
For the now, my present is good, even if I have darker moments still. I am working towards losing weight (successfully). I have begun painting and even started a Facebook page specifically for my art. I’m no longer terrified to leave the house and have actually been actively trying to go out and do things. I’m in a much better place than I have been in years. There’s still some serious shit wrong, but it’s not as overwhelming as it all used to be.
That said, my future still worries me. I can’t see it and the unknown scares me.