6 years ago, I tried to kill myself.
Well, kind of. I wanted to kill myself. I held the knife to my wrist and I pressed. I pressed as hard as I could. I held it there while angry tears ran down my face. I pressed it while people watched. While nobody tried to stop it. I wanted to press it in, split the skin, and watch it bleed.
But I couldn’t. No matter how badly I didn’t want to be alive, I also didn’t want to be dead. I never managed to pierce the skin. I ended up putting the knife in a wall and walking away.
It was the culmination of a lot of years of depression and running from things. From growing up bullied, to falling for women that never wanted to be with me, to my parents divorce, to being jobless and broke. I had never dealt with anything, ever. I just pushed it all away and let it pile up in whatever space I could find.
It never went away though. It was always there, jut like the depression. And when the depression started getting worse, I became intensely introspective. This led me to find all of the things I tried to run from, and they came spilling out. I couldn’t stop them. I was drowning in them. I had no idea what to do anymore. Everything was pain.
On the night I had the knife, I was at a party. There were probably about 20 people in a relatively small apartment, with a fairly even mix of men and women. Everything was normal for most of the night. I was drunk and being more sociable than normal. I had even had a bit of luck with one girl, but then she left. The night was starting to wind down and I watched as people kept pairing off. Everyone was finding someone to hook up with, which is cool, but I was alone… again.
I’m not sure why this was the night that that was too much for me. It had always happened that way. There was never anyone around that wanted me. Nothing has really changed in regards to that. It always hurts when I’m the one that ends up all alone, but it was never that bad. I don’t know if it was the alcohol, or the growing depression, or what, but this was the night.
I can’t even tell you where I got the knife or why I had it. It was just sort of there. I think we may have been fucking around with them and trying to throw them into a wall. I can’t be certain. I was drunk and that part is hazy.
After I put the knife in the wall, I went back in and, as far as I can remember, tried to sleep. I slept fitfully for a while and then called my mom to see if she could pick me up as I didn’t have a car at the time.
I didn’t see anyone from that night for nearly 6 months. I didn’t really realize it at the time, but this was the final straw in a break with reality. It had been happening for a while, but that was when it all finally happened. After that, I stopped going out. I didn’t see anyone for months and I barely left the house. I pretty much didn’t leave unless I was getting food. I spent as much time as possible on the computer playing stupid little games to distract myself from all of the stuff that had piled up. However, I’ve written about all of this before. I’ve just never recognized it as what it really was: a break from reality. I took time away from the world to deal with all of my shit.
I don’t write about this with sadness. I never felt an ounce of melancholy while writing this tonight. In fact, I’m feeling better than I have in a good week. For some reason though, this story felt like it needed out finally. I wasn’t necessarily hiding it, I just didn’t know how to frame it and express it. I’ve mentioned it and sort of written about it before, but never in detail. It was time for it though. Time for one last tale.
I think this is a good final post for this blog. I don’t really have much need for it anymore. I’ll blog again, but most likely not here. This was the journey out of my deepest depression. While the story isn’t over and there’s still much I need to work through, this phase of it is done. It is time to move on to other venues and outlets.
So thank you, and goodbye.
I keep trying to write, but I never get very far. I feel like one of two things has happened. Either I have cleared an entire level of all major threads and am just grasping at cast off threads culled from the longer ones while I search for a path to the next level. Or, I’m searching through in the dark, grasping at the threads and unable to see more than a bit at a time, following it down and sussing it out only to forget where I was and where I am going.
I think it is the former. I don’t feel as heavily burdened, even if I still feel the weight of all I want.
I am on the verge of major changes. I’ve been talking and planning and very soon I will be doing, as best as I can. Until I get there though, I don’t have much to say.I want to say it all, but it just doesn’t want to come out yet. I think this was inevitable though. There had to be a lull in the entries at some point. I don’t want it to be, but I think it needs to be. I won’t be completely gone though. There are still a few things I want to write about that I know I can, but the more introspective stuff like I have been doing will slow for now.
I will also transition to posting art once I get to making it more. My wacom tablet comes later today, so I plan to do a lot of playing with that. I will also be switching shifts soon and should have more time to paint in the near future. I have a longboard, a canvas, and a few other things I need to paint. Once I make art more, I think I can then leverage it into a job of some sort on the side. That’s the hope anyways. Eventually, I want to make a living off of it but that’s not always easy. If it is what I am supposed to do though, it will happen. I am open and listening now and will follow whatever I feel I am led to do.
Well, I’ll not say goodbye or farewell or anything of that sort. I’m not really going, I am growing. See you on the other side.
I’m getting tired of what it is I am writing. I feel like it is all I talk about. There is more to me, but if I get right down to the core, this is what comes out. I also feel odd talking about it. Love is a subject men are, traditionally, not supposed to care much about. Everything you see portrayed is men getting suckered into it. That is not true of course. I know I am not a lone male with these thoughts, but I often feel that way.
I think I need to start working on a more concrete plan for what I want out of my life. For many years I have been working on ideals alone. I’ve been thinking in the abstract with ‘love, a career, family, means to take care of myself’. If I want to see any of those things, I need to start defining a plan, figure out what it takes to get to all of those things and start doing things to work towards it.
I haven’t actually done that in a very long time. The last time I really had any guidance for my life was when I was still in High School. All I really knew then was that I had to work towards finishing school and then get into college or some sort of secondary schooling. Once I got there, you add that to everything else in my life and I was one very lost young adult. I have also never been the one to set the goals for myself. Finishing school and moving onto secondary school is a pretty standard goal set.
At one point in my life I thought I was meant to be a pastor, but with everything that happened, that just wasn’t going to happen, so I moved on to my secondary dream of working with cars. To that end, I went to UTI and got myself into massive amounts of debt and found that the industry doesn’t give a flying fuck about whether you went to school or not. The automotive industry can be harsh. They don’t want to apprentice anymore, from what I have seen. When I moved back to Oregon to lick my wounds, I applied at every shop I could find and never got a single call back. Granted, I was looking at the start of the recession, but all they wanted was old guys with 10+ years of experience. It didn’t help that dealership work was not for me. Custom work is where I wanted to be, but that is even harder to get into than a dealership. So, I was just lost and couldn’t find my way out.
However, now that I am on the upswing and getting my life sorted, I think it will go better this time. I do want to eventually get back into the automotive field, but I am not as set in that as I was at one point. I do currently have a job, but it is not a career. I would not at all mind doing what I am currently doing if there were opportunities to move up, but I have not seen that there are yet. With that in mind, my ultimate goal would be to make art of any kind and get paid to do so. The dream would be to be the head artist at a custom car shop, but as long as I am making art, able to support myself (and then some), and happy I am fine with any job. Right now, I enjoy my job, but I am barely surviving.
To that end, I need to figure out what I need to do to achieve that. I believe, to start, I need to keep doing more of what I have been doing. I need to continue painting and drawing and working on enhancing my skill. As I start to do that, I can start getting out some to find paid work that I can do to further my skill. Building a portfolio and getting better at painting are imperative to getting into the field somewhere. I think that between now and when I get into the automotive field again, I will start an Etsy page (or something, I am unsure yet) and start doing some commission work on shoes, shirts, and anything else people want. As I do more paid work, that will allow me to start upgrading all of my gear for painting, eventually making it possible to do bigger and better things. Right now my set up is fairly basic, so I do need to keep in mind that it needs attention as well.
That is not the only career path I see for myself though. I have also been idly looking into distilling. It is something my best friend and I are interested in doing and may get started sometime in the next year. There are many possibilities in that if we can figure out a god recipe for our rum. Starting a boutique distillery is a possibility, if we can find backers and have a good product. In addition to that, I would love to stay at my current job as I do love it, but as yet, there is no path of upward mobility. If I am to stay with this job, I need to at least know I can move up eventually. I really want to stay with it though and even if there is no path, I would likely stay with it far longer than I should.
I guess now that I have a weak outline of a career path, I should start working on a path for my love life. The problem with that is, I have no idea. That is entirely a mystery to me. I do not know where to go to find someone.
That’s a lie. I think I have always known where I would find someone, I just avoid it because it means dealing with more stuff head on. The only real answer I have is church. That presents many problems though. While I believe in the Christian God and that Jesus Christ died on the cross for my sins, I have a lot of trouble with church and religion. Many terrible things have been and are perpetuated in the name of the Christian God, among others. I do not believe in many of the same things that other Christians believe in, so I do not call myself a Christian. I believe in evolution, to a point. To deny evolution is folly. You can see it all around you. My one objection to evolution is that I do not believe we are descendant from apes. While we are similar, I do not see strong evidence for it yet. I also have objections to how people interpret the rules and guidelines that are set forth in the Bible. I believe that many of the Jewish laws were there as a way to perpetuate the Jewish people and make certain that they survive, but I do not know that it is necessarily still true today. I believe that above all else, Christ came to free us from those laws and that he taught us that we should love one another.
However, I will not go further into that for this blog. That is a very large can of worms that I will save for another blog, though it seems much closer today than it was before.
What I am trying to say with that is: as much as I understand that I should go to church and that that is where I am most likely to find someone to spend my life with, I am very much not ready to start going to church again. There are still things I need to reconcile in my life before I can start going back to church. The whole thing is difficult for me. I will get there eventually, but there is still much left for me to work on.
Before then, I still need to work on my own issues. One major thing I need to work on is my weight. It is a hindrance, and not just because fewer people like big people. How is anyone supposed to love me as I am if I do not love me as I am? I hate my body. I am trapped within it. It holds me back from many things. I do what I can to persevere in spite of it, but I can only ignore it for so long. I have to deal with this, now. I can’t put it off until tomorrow. I’m actually not all that afraid of dying because I am fat. I just know that it is another aspect of myself that I need to change if I am ever going to get myself right. I can do all the mental healing I want, but if I still look in the mirror and hate what I see, it won’t do me any good.
That means I need to start walking again, to start. I also need to start eating better. I do not mind healthy food, I just don’t care to cook for myself all that much. Doing anything when you weigh 550+ pounds is difficult. I actually very much hate saying that aloud. It’s a shameful number. I was always big, but that big? That’s disgusting. Not to mention all of the social stigma that comes along with being so big. I was working to lower it a few months ago, but then about a month and a half ago I got bogged down. I was going to say I didn’t know what happened, but I do. I was signing onto the comp and foregoing the walk in order to talk to someone. It was stupid. I tried not to, but I’m such a fool for having someone to talk with, always hoping that the talk will become more. That was why I stopped walking. The diet stopped because I got lazy. I need to dig deeper and suck it up. I have no one to blame for this other than myself and I have only myself to change it.
So, if I can’t go where I need to go to find someone and if I can’t get myself right to be with them, I shouldn’t bitch about wanting to meet someone. I can give excuses as to why I want to meet them, but they don’t really matter. In the end, I just need to accept that I am not ready for it and work to get myself ready for it. It will happen when it happens and not a second sooner. All my whining will not speed it up.
You know, this entire thing started as a way for me to talk about what it was I wanted in a relationship. I kind of still want to talk about that, but now it feels like it will be some awkward, forced post script. Fuck it. I’ve already come this far, I may as well keep going.
With the exception of the times in my life when I am talking to someone and it seems to be (or has) headed towards something romantic, I do not actually see anyone in my mind when I think of ‘Her’. I have no single type that I am most physically attracted to. I have features I enjoy, but none of them are deal breakers. I am far more interested in personality, but even then I have no strong preferences. I do not think I could have preferences yet. I’ve never had anyone so I do not entirely know what I want or need. All I really know is that I want someone that enjoys physical contact. Someone that can stimulate me intellectually. Someone that enjoys goofing off but can be serious as well (I really am just a big kid). I want someone I can talk with.
I don’t entirely know. That really was as forced as I thought it would be. I can’t really know anything until I am out there more. One thing I realized this weekend while I was out at the bars with friends is that I do not care for that scene at all. I hate it, actually. I only go because my friends want to go. I feel no compulsion to go up to any of those women (with the exception of the woman that looked like Number 6…). I have no ‘game’, nor do I really want to develop ‘game’. That is not who I am. I am very honest and straightforward. I don’t give two shits about going to the bar and trying to find a woman that will go home with me and sleep with me. I don’t really want sex, I want companionship. I did want that before I lost my virginity, but I didn’t know how very different sex and companionship were. Before then, they were closely intertwined in my mind. Now that I know better and which of the two that I want, I know the bar scene isn’t for me. I’ll go out and I’ll enjoy hanging out with my friends, but that’s it. I won’t turn anything away, but I won’t actively seek it either.
So, with all of this in mind I start to really look towards my future. It still confuses me, but at least I can see things out there now. For a long time it was all darkness. I wasn’t even sure I would make it out there. I don’t know how long it will all take, but I’ll make it there someday.
So, I lied. I think there is one more blog to write before my work week is over. This is a blog I have avoided. It involves the truth that I hide even from myself. It involves all that I have discussed before, but it goes far deeper than that. It cuts to the heart of my fears in starting a relationship. It took me a long time to accept it as truth, but I’ve yet to really be able to express it to anyone. It’s pitiful and pathetic. It paints me as exceedingly weak and it calls into question my mental health. It is the basis for why I question my own sanity and why I accept that insanity is not far away.
That may not even play a part in it. I’m sure I’m not the only one to have done it and I know that it was borne out of a fracture started long ago. If I hadn’t been broken down and berated by everyone around me, maybe it would not have happened, but it did and it scares me. I question all that I see in women because of this one folly. It was a major folly though and it is difficult to express…
Much of what I saw and loved in Anna and much of what we had together had no basis in reality. I invented much of it. She was real. We did spend time together. We had moments. But, really, we spent one week together every year at camp, and that was mostly it. I saw her a few times outside of that and we wrote each other letters some, but not much. We both professed feelings for each other, but I carried much of it. I didn’t really love the girl that she was. I loved the idyllic version of her that resided in my mind.
It all came crashing down that final day. Reality met dream and reality won out. It killed me.
What I’ve talked about before was true as well. She didn’t help it with her words, but how could she have? I didn’t know then that who I saw in my mind was not the girl that sat across that bench from me. Everything I’ve written about about how her words hurt me is true, I never really got past it and it was detrimental to me. Really though, it was just the final blow. It was the culmination of a lifetime of being beaten down by ever kid in school, watching my mother go in and out of the hospital, the dissolution of my parent’s marriage, and many other things. It was the death of my childhood.
When all that had come before it kept getting more and more difficult to deal with, I clung harder to the illusion that was the relationship. I needed something to believe in and hope for and I chose love, even if it was false. I’d lost my dignity and my confidence (and much, much more) to the bullying. I had lost my sense of family and love to the divorce. I was even losing my friends as we got older and I withdrew deeper. So, as I lost all I had I clung to the only thing I could see that had made me happy at any time in the recent past. And I’ve paid dearly for it.
Until recently, I hadn’t dealt with anything leading up to that day. It change everything I am, but I just sort of went along with it. A new version of me was born that day and he didn’t really want to live. He just did what he had to to survive and did not survive well. I couldn’t thrive. I ran away, moved to California for school and then Texas but never found much. Even when I cam home, I couldn’t find anything. Everything I was running from was finally catching up to me and one night after to much gin, I found a knife and tried to end it all. I couldn’t do it though. I had it on my wrist, pressing the point in, but I didn’t actually have the will to pierce the flesh. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. It was a move borne of desperation and a small part of me fought against it and kept me from doing it.
It was after that night that I went to my deepest and darkest places. I didn’t talk to any of my friends for about 6 months after that. Everything I ran from had finally consumed me and I retreated deep within myself, first to escape and then to deal with it. That was 3 years ago and I’m still trying to work it all out, though I am now doing so openly and talking with others about it. I have come a long way since that day but I still have a long way to go.
The experience I had of falling for someone that existed more in my mind than in the real world has tainted all encounters since. I second guess myself at every turn, wondering if what was said means what they said or if I have read more into it than was meant. If I did it once, it is not such a far stretch to think I would do it again. Because of that I couldn’t trust anything that was happening. Still don’t, really. I still tell myself I’m being an idiot every time something seems to be starting. Even my recent trip was tainted by it. She told me that people mean what they say and that we are no longer in high school, and she was right, but at the same time it is not the other person I am questioning, it is my own mind. I lost trust in myself and if I can’t trust myself, I’m royally fucked. And royally fucked I have been.
I still don’t really know how to move forward from this. I do not know what to change to find trust in myself again. The crux is, I am still not ready for a relationship but the only thing I can thing of to fix it is to go out and keep trying, even if I keep failing. Admitting to it and really, truly accepting it are a good start though. I’ll figure out the rest somehow. I have to. If I ever want to have a meaningful relationship, I’m going to have to get past this. I think that while I work on it, I need to just put any option of a relationship out of my mind for a time. That thought still hurts though. I’ve craved having someone in my life for a very long time. That may have been misplaced needs though. Not sure yet.
I feel like there is more to this, but I can’t find it yet. For now, I will leave you with a song. This song comes from an album I bought just two days after the last time I saw Anna, the day it all crashed down. The album spoke to me about what had happened. I have always clung to this song thinking of her. A part of me always knew just how apt it was, especially the final lament of ‘She isn’t real, I can’t make her real’. I never could see just how true the words were until much later. The song is Vermilion, pt. 2.
I sometimes wonder what would happen if she found my blog and saw that I was talking about her 8 years later. In truth, I while I have been cognizant of her in the last 8 years, I have not focused on her much for the last 5/6 years. It took me a couple years before her name left my lips, before I stopped seeing her when my eyes closed. Once I did, she faded to the back of my mind though. Her ghost was there, moving around other things, but she was no longer a huge force. Even now, I talk of her and how that day changed me, but she is not on my mind that much. It is the changes that happened that day that I think of, that I wrestle with and am trying to overcome. She just happens to be there.
I’ve been mulling over two thoughts today. The first is, where does one find these fabled ‘woman that think intelligence is sexy’? I’ve met all of two in my life, both of them this year. Neither was right for me. Granted, the first one almost took my virginity and the second one did, but still, I’m not actually looking for sex. What I want is a relationship and I know no woman is ever going to look at me and think ‘My god, I need that guy’. I just don’t engender that upon first look. However, I have always known that if the right woman sits down and talks with me, she very well may think ‘My god, I need that guy’. It’s the nature of who I am. I’m not ugly, just big. But being big limits the number of woman that will find me attractive. My intelligence does increase that number some, but it is still limited. I have the personality and intelligence that women want, but not the looks. Though I am working on becoming a smaller version of me, I will never be skinny or ripped. Who I am is a big guy, and that is how I plan to stay. I just don’t want to be this fucking big.
In the end, I know that my intelligence will play a big factor in finding someone, the question I have trouble with is how does that happen? For someone that ironically craves order and sees patterns in everything, it is very difficult to accept that meeting someone will be purely random and by chance. There are ways to skew that random, but it is still random. While I do love random and the non-sequitur, random in aspects of my life like love or day-today things bothers me. I can’t help it. I need some form of structure. I think that may b my biggest issue with wanting someone. I can’t really accept that it boils down to chaos.
This brings me to my next thought of the day. I’ve been talking about wanting and needing someone in my life for a long time, but why? Do I actually need someone in my life? Will it solve all of my problems and make me whole? The hard answer is, No. No, it will not. I do not actually need someone in my life. I’ve made it to 26 without anyone, I clearly know how to live alone. I don’t live as well as I could/should, but I can do it. I don’t need anyone to take care of me (though I did when I checked out of reality). My problems will not go away just because I meet someone either. They are not a cure-all and it would be horribly cruel to treat them as such. I am the only one that can fix myself.
In truth, I do not need someone, I just very much want it. That begs the question though, why do I want it? I can’t really answer that. Part of it is seeing how happy others are in relationships. I don’t think I’ve ever really been all that happy in my life. There are spurts of it, but it has been a very average to below average sort of life. Part of it also that the happiest times I remember are when I had someone I was talking with, though those talks rarely ever led to anything more than talking.
I’ve also put myself through hell by wondering if I would ever meet someone. It has been a central thought of mine since I was 13 or so and all of my friends started dating. The longer I went without having met anyone, the more difficult it became for me. I felt left behind. I felt… broken. Which is asinine. I was not lesser for having gone without. A relationship does not define who you are. You are the only one that can define you. But I have always missed that point. Even those friends that did not have steady partners were still out there hooking up and having sex. That never happened for me either. I was always on the sidelines looking in, waiting to get put in the game. I wasn’t though. While it did take me 26 years, I found quality over quantity. I also found that I am just not made for random hookups. I need something else there if I am going to have sex.
All of this leaves me with much to think about. I don’t think I could swear off the looking and wondering, but I think I can put it to the back burner and stop focusing on it. If it truly is borne of chaos, watching it and fretting over it will do nothing for me. Which means letting go of it for now will help me find peace with who I am and make me more ready for it when it finally comes.
I have far too much that I need to get out. This past weekend has been filled with a need to write. So much so that I feel like I may be writing too much. That’s an asinine thought though. While I am aware that I have people that read this and am aware my rapid fire method of posting may be too much, I can’t really worry about that yet. I love each and every view, comment, like, and subscribe that I get, but this blog is still about me getting stuff out and if that means I have to post 10 times a day, so be it. I apologize if it is too much, but there is much in my mind.
With that, we come back to a most popular subject of mine, love and relationships. Maybe. I feel something here, but I don’t want to force it. There’s something about the subject of not knowing, about how I really have no idea about relationships. Really, I have no fucking clue how one starts. I don’t truly understand the concept of starting it.
No, this is not to be the subject tonight.
This past week and a few days has been unlike any that I have ever had before in my life. I don’t really know what to make of it. I drove to meet a woman. I let myself be vulnerable. I spent time alone with a woman. I lost my virginity. I found that we were just friends. I really felt something for the first time in a lot of years. I totally fucked my diet up.
I, I don’t know.
I did so much. It feels like it has been far more than a week. I’ve written, I’ve drawn, I’ve yet to paint but I do have the canvas prepped. I’ve done so very much. It’s a blur. I’ve even been working. Though I don’t remember much of the working, i know I did my job well.
It will take me more time yet to process it all. That means many more entries here as well. There’s much left to figure out and deal with. In an odd dichotomy, my mind is both more clear and more chaotic than it has ever been before. I’ve gone over and through everything a thousand times and have made progress.
I feel like I’m in a car driving 140 miles per hour. Everything dead ahead of me seems oddly clear, but everything to the sides is whipping by so fast as to be invisible. If I really stop to focus on something as it goes past, I can stay aware of it, but not for long.
I haven’t really done much, yet I’ve done everything. I’ve neglected cleaning my room, I have yet to start the painting I want to do, I haven’t been eating well, and I haven’t hardly gone outside. Yet, I’ve written 9 (including this one) blog entries. I’ve gone to lunch with my best friend and actually discussed real shit. I’ve talked with my mom. talked with my cousin. I drew an image that I lived in a trip a few months back but had been afraid to attempt to draw. I bought new markers, a canvas, an upgrade for the blog. I guess what it boils down to is that I’ve made a lot of big strides mentally, spiritually, and emotionally, but I have yet to see them actually manifest themselves physically. I think that will change though.
Monday I get back to doing my thing to get healthy. I’m also going to try and paint. I’ve had a week now to be within myself, I think now is the time to move without and start to do stuff in the outer world. Maybe I won’t paint tomorrow. I think I’ll clean instead. Get rid of the physical chaos around me. It will be calming and I’ll get to accomplish something. I kind of need to feel like I have accomplished something in the physical realm. Getting my room clean is just a very good place to start. Call it a new beginning of sorts. I’ll give it a good cleaning. Move out some crap I’ve had in here for far too long, clean the floors, just get it all nice and tidy. My asthma and allergies will hate it (allergic to dust mites) but it’ll be good once it’s done.
I’ve already written 2 entries today, but I feel like there’s another one trying to get out. All of this is me trying to clear out my mind and there has been much chaos in there this past week. I do try to make it all coherent and hope that it is well written, but I haven’t been able to assure that this week. Half the time, I just ended up hitting the publish button when I felt like I couldn’t go any further, not even taking the time to reread it or double check it beforehand. I’ve just sort of been dumping stuff here to get it out of me, no matter what. This hasn’t even been my only outlet. I’ve also been writing on Facebook, drawing, planning out paintings, and talking with people.
I’ve been entirely derailed. I put on Chasing Amy, which is a very important movie to me. I admire Holden for having the balls to say it, but I pity him and relate to him for falling for a woman he couldn’t have even if they did end up together. That sort of stuff never happens in real life. I’ve fallen for women that couldn’t care for me the way I cared for them, but saying I cared never changed how they felt. When it all played out, I was still left dealing with the pain of the unrequited, never to know what it felt like to have it fulfilled. I see a lot of parallels in this movie. The unrequited love, the best friend that wants it to work but knows it won’t, being so incredibly far out of your element that you are just waiting for it to fall apart, but I also see the many differences.
I’m gonna quote his speech now, because it feels right to do. It’s something I would like to be able to do in my own life, though it is slightly foolish. But, no matter how foolish it is, it is better to stand up and declare yourself than sit back and always wonder what may have been. Those thoughts of what may have been linger far longer than the inevitable rejection.
Alyssa: Why are we stopping?
Holden: ‘Cause I can’t take this.
Alyssa: Can’t take what?
Holden: I love you.
Alyssa: You love me?
Holden: I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we’re great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I’m sure that’s what you’ll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the-the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is-is-is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can’t take this anymore. I can’t stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can’t-I can’t look into your eyes without feeling that-that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can’t talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship – no pun intended – but I had to say it, ’cause I’ve never felt this way before, and I-I don’t care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can’t hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn’t allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I’ll accept that. But I know, I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there’s a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. And all I ask, please, is that you just – you just not dismiss that, and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn’t another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I’m with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can’t deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I am forever changed because of who you are and what you’ve meant to me, which – while I do appreciate it – I’d never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.
My favorite quote from the movie though is what happens after this, after she runs off and he chases after her getting told off the whole way.
“If this is a crush, I don’t think I could take it if the real thing ever happened. ”
That quote has always spoken to me. It is spoken with so much soul crushed dejection. I’ve known that kind of pain. Knowing you loved and that you were the only one in it that did.
The whole movie speaks to me. Seeing Holden confront Alyssa and then hurt her out of fear. His feelings of insignificance. His foolish attempt to fix it that only makes it worse. It even helped shape my views on homosexuality. It’s no different that heterosexual relationships. They’re both stupid and messy but feel amazing. I love the scene where she confronts him on his views on sex and virginity. Or when Alyssa and Banky compare pussy eating injuries. It is Kevin Smith’s best movie, in my opinion. I don’t watch it often, but it always speaks to me when I do.
Now that I have gone over the movie and why I love it, I see that I may not have been derailed as much as I thought. This does relate back to wanting to talk about writing, drawing, and whatever else I do. I do all that stuff to deal with the sort of things Holden goes through n the film. Drawing and writing are my outlets. The more I do them, the better I feel about things. The writing expels my inner issues and the drawing and painting appease my creative needs.
For the first time in a long time, I have a very strong desire to create. I’ve been writing incredible amounts. I’ve taken to drawing again. I’m painting and trying to grow that into a business. I even have a desire to create music again, though that is still something I am not very good at. In all, as I write and clear my mind, it frees me up to create more art and to expand my art into areas I’ve never gone before. It is exciting to think of where I will go in the future. For now is still the infancy of my change. I will go much further and it will be great.
Aside from wanting to create, my mind is more open now than it has been in a long time. My depression stunted me and even regressed me some. It was a very dark time for me and it affected me in ways I couldn’t even understand then. I do remember a few times feeling like I had lost some of my intelligence. I was even worried that maybe alcohol or drugs had caused it, but I see now that it was due in large part to my depression. The deeper it got, the more withdrawn and closed off I became. I was shutting down parts of myself and it was detrimental to my mind in more ways than just what yo normally expect of depression. It made me someone I never want to be again. I want, no. I need to continue to exercise my mind. Losing that part of me in the depression scared me. It made me wonder if I would ever regain the sharp edge of my intelligence. I have regained that edge, and now I am honing it. Soon it will be the sharpest it has ever been and nothing will stand in its way.
I’m almost back and once I am, the world is fucked cause I’m taking over. haha
As a preface, I am nervous writing this blog. I know the other party will read it. However, I have to write it, no matter what. I’ve talked with her about it as I have talked with my closest friends about it, but now I need to put it on here. This is where I am most free. It’s not even that I can’t say this stuff in person, it’s that I have time to think writing it that I do not really get talking. I have better phrasing and expression here, though there will be a certain level of mania in this particular entry.
So, I came home from my trip a couple days early. It was unfortunate, but in order to save myself and the friendship, it had to happen. if I stayed, there was a strong possibility I would force myself into becoming very hurt, which would have destroyed the friendship. I didn’t know why I had to leave at the time. All I really knew is that something was wrong and I had to go. I gave opportunity to say the words that would keep me there, though I didn’t know what they were. In the end, there were no words that could be spoken that would have kept me, but I didn’t know that until later.
I will likely talk about what happened over the weekend more at a later date, but for now, I have to start at the end.
I left less than an hour after we finally slept together, though that was not the reason I left. We had already discussed my leaving the night prior and that morning and she was aware I would be going, but it happened anyways. I had finally lost my virginity. It was fun, but after 26 years, the build up of time had made it impossible to live up to. I learned much from the experience, but I am getting ahead (behind?) of myself.
It took me 400 miles and 7 hours to even start to understand what had happened over the weekend and why I had to leave. In truth, I’m still processing it all. I know the why and the how, but there is still much to analyze. I realized that I had spent the entire weekend denying a part of who I was in order to finally be able to lose my virginity. I learned that one of my base desires is intimacy. I need to touch the person. I need to be able to hold them and kiss them and have them next to me. Really, it should not have been something I was surprised to find. I have always written about wanting those things, but I was not aware that it was so deep that I could not turn it off. Because I was trying to deny it to conform to what she wanted, it was causing a lot of internal strife. It was becoming physically painful to sit near her knowing I couldn’t touch her. It was also detrimental to how I viewed her. It wasn’t really fair to either of us and would end up hurting everything. leaving was the only viable choice. If I had stayed, it may have been okay, but I risked a great deal of pain for myself and destroying a very good friendship that I had and need.
I have to pause. I’m not writing now. This has become an outpouring of my internal dialogue surrounding the issue. I’m still working on it all. I have come to a certain kind peace with it. Part of it does still hurt, but it is not the soul wounding it has been in the past. I did learn much from the trip (more than detailed in the last entry), but… there is still some pain. It was a good trip, and I am happy for it, but now it means I am still looking. Which is a slightly foolish statement. I knew she wasn’t who I was looking for, but that deeper part of me couldn’t accept it until I got there and saw.
On the trip, I had to reconcile who she was with who she had become in my mind, which is never an easy thing. It’s something that shouldn’t happen, but I have spent my entire life within my head. I have lived innumerable lives within my mind. I play everything out, though it never goes as I see. When I had no one, I still had my mind, so I turned there to get through the insufferable loneliness. I’m still learning how to get out of my head so much and just do stuff. It’s not easy when it’s all you’ve really known. I’ve pretty much always been that way. I don’t remember having imaginary friends, but I definitely spent more time inventing stories with toys than playing with other kids.
I know now more than ever that I need to find someone that can share with me the things I need. The subject of codependency came up this weekend. It’s a definite possibility, but I don’t know that it is entirely true. Yes, I do feel like I need someone in my life, but I think it is more than a codependent need. I have always felt that I was not made to be single. I’ve always felt that I need someone in my life. I don’t need her to take care of me and push me, because I can do those things, but I want someone that will. I don’t know, really. I do know I need someone. In spite of the disconnect, I did feel better near someone.
In truth, I have no idea right now. I want to write, and I want to be coherent, but those things can’t mix right now. I’ve gotten lost and diverted so many times tonight that I have no clue if this will make any sort of sense. I’ll post it anyways, because coherent or not, it has been good. In an odd twist, I think I talked this all through in person better than I did writing it, though I did not attempt to go into such depth in person.
This doesn’t feel like the place to stop. So much more wants out. There are things I have yet to cover and things I didn’t intend to cover. I… I do not know. It is all very confusing. I am at a sort of peace with what happened and am glad that it happened, but there are still things I need to suss out. I’m sure they will make up other blogs, there are always other blogs.
Because of the trip, I do feel ready to move onto other things. I am going to try and move back to California. I have no idea when it will be or if that is where I will actually go, but I will leave Oregon. It is too small for me. For now, the thought that I will go is enough. I’ll figure out the rest later.
No matter what comes from this trip, I had to take it. If I hadn’t, I would have always wondered. I never could’ve let go and moved on. Until we met in person, I could not truly know that friendship was all there was. A part of me knew and understood that, but that deep longing inside of me could never accept it through any means other than directly seeing it.
I’ll not say it doesn’t hurt, it does. Unlike the past times though, this will not hold me back. If anything, it is motivation to find someone that wants more than friendship from me. I’ve been in this place before, but never like this. This time, I can accept that friendship is where it ends. I am at peace with that. All too often the only thing wanted of me was friendship, and it always hurt me to the core. This time, the pain is not so deep, it is in losing something I never had. It is ‘Oh, well, it kinda sucks that I can’t have it, but I never had it in the first place so I can’t be too upset about it’. It’s like buying a lotto ticket. When you buy it, you hope, and you dream and you imagine all of the amazing things you’ll buy, but then the time comes and you see that you did not win. It hurts when you see that you didn’t win, but only for a moment. The moment quickly passes and you realize that you did not lose anything, you just did not gain anything either. You are in the same place you were before.
Though, in this trip, I did gain. I gained knowledge, of myself and of the situation. I cannot be unhappy about that. I learned that I have a voice, I had just been cowed into not using it over many years of being ignored by most around me. My voice is still small, but it is there and it is growing. I’ll stretch it and grow it from here on out. I do not need to fear what may happen if I act and voice things. Instead, I can just deal with what happens when I do. The pain of dealing with it is far lesser than the pain of always wondering what the fuck would have happened had I raised my voice and declared myself.
Internalizing everything is what drove me to such dark places in the past. To avoid them, I have to be open and honest, though that is no easy task. Talking is not something my family has ever done. We always asked about how our days were and how things in general were going, but we never sat down and talked about the shit we’d gone through. I never talked about cutting myself or wanting to die. We didn’t even talk about my mother’s mental issues. We never talked about my dad or my sister’s issues. We just acted the part of the slightly dysfunctional but largely happy family. I had a great childhood in the confines of my family (school and elsewhere are several other blogs entirely), but I don’t know that I was really prepared for the world at large. I think I was given all the tools I needed, but I was never shown how to use them.
My dad is an amazing thinker, a brilliant person, and so very inventive. He always has answers and he always finds solutions. My mother is a very loving and compassionate woman. She is also the rock for anyone that needs it. My sister is the most driven and hardworking person I’ve ever met. She has created a life path for herself that will lead her to incredible things. From them all, I learned strength, compassion, humility, and love. I also learned to to think for myself, to be me at all times. I learned that no matter what, you take care of those you love, and I learned how to be a strong person, even if I lost that knowledge for a time.
Without this trip, I do not think I could have really seen all that. I knew I had strength, but I did not realize just how strong I was. This trip has allowed me to see myself more clearly. I had to go away for a bit to find myself. I am many of the things I knew myself to be at one point, but I had lost them all. I had had some stolen from me through pain and fear, while others I hid from myself so that I might avoid pain and fear. However, I have found these things again. I see now that they were not figments of my imagination, but things that were lost and needed to be found.
I have also learned from this trip that there are things I need to let go of. Things I have held onto for many, many years that were killing me. I need not fear pain. Pain is inevitable. I cannot stave it off. It will find me at some point. The thing I needed to learn is that it does not matter. I do not need to let it hold me down any longer. I need to deal with it and move past it rather than try to avoid it. Avoiding it causes it to come back for many, many years. If I deal with it, it will be but a moment, and then it will be gone.
Another thing I have learned is that I need to leave Oregon. Though I have spent this entire trip at my friend’s house, I can feel just how much more at home I am in a large city. It is no longer an idea that I should leave Eugene, it is an imperative. If I want to make any big change in my life, it has to start with leaving Oregon. I will always love Eugene, but it is far too small for me. In being where I am this week, and looking back on Eugene, it is much the same as when I look back on my depression. Where I am now is brighter and clearer, while where I was is so dark and cluttered. Eugene kept me safe through everything, but in order to become myself, I need to leave it and find a new place to call home.
In the end, the trip is nothing like what played through my head, but it is everything it needed to be. It is closure and it is new doors. This trip is the time away I needed to find what it was that mattered. This was a centering point and it will allow me go even further than I thought I would. It was… perfect. I foresee that this will be a catalyst to a much better version of myself.
I am sure I will talk more about this trip in the future, but it will always be done in the anonymous. Where I went and who I was with is only important to myself and that person. For the world at large, knowing that I went is enough.
I want to write tonight. I don’t really have a strong urge to say much, I just feel like I should. I’m probably going to be away from this for the next week. In about 2 hours, I leave to go on a trip. I’m excited for it, but I fear I have placed too much on it. I had expectations and hopes for a time, but as the day has come closer those have fallen away. All I can think of now is the moment I get there. I’m excited for that moment, but I fear getting hurt. I seem to be really good at finding things that will hurt me and then diving head first into them.
In truth, I have little to say. Mostly, I just wanted to write to say that I would be away and this may be the last post for a little while. I don’t expect to do much writing while on my trip, though it’s always possible as I will have the comp with me for work. Adieu, I will see you on the other side with new eyes and new ideas.
Sometimes, I just open this because I want it here. I don’t always know what I want to say when I open it, I just know that something feels like it needs out. Really, I’m just sitting here refreshing pages and working. As I do that, thoughts turn over in the back of my mind. I don’t usually notice them, but sometimes they press a little more insistently and I get the urge to write. Sometimes, that urge comes before the thought makes itself known. What I type now is preamble. It is well worded nothingness; falling with style, if you will. My fingers are moving to let my mind ponder, wander, find a thread. I think the thread was found a while ago, but the story written upon it is still being sussed out. There are many threads to be followed and some of them look very much alike.
I use that term a lot, ‘threads’. One set of people in Norse Mythology that I have always been interested in are the Norns. They are much like the Fates in Greek mythology, but I prefer the Norse version. The Norns sit at the base of Yggdrasil and spin the threads of life for people as well as water Yggdrasil itself. There are many norns, as each person gets their own norn at birth. That norn determines your fate. Among the myriad of norns, there are three main Norns: Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld, who represent past, present, and future respectively. However, they do not determine those things exclusively, as wyrd is determined by the way all three work together. They each spin their own thread, crossing and mixing with each other. Each may cut a thread at any time and add it back later. Each thread is like our stories, a moment in our life, what we have gone through and will go through. They are us and they are fragile.
Wyrd is a fickle thing. It takes us wherever it wants, regardless of our own desires. That does not make it all powerful, as it can be ignored, guided, or overpowered. To me, wyrd (fate) is not there to plan out your entire life, it is there to place things in your path. It is up to you to rise to the occasion. Wyrd can only take us to that point. It is up to us to take advantage of the opportunity. We hold all the power, though sometimes we feel powerless.
Wyrd also loves irony. It has placed an opportunity in my path, but to get to it I have to replay the lead up to my most painful tragedy on a far grander scale. I am risking far more this time, but the reward is far greater. This time around though, I do not fear it. I’ve avoided like situations for years, but I am finally ready to conquer this and seize the opportunity. I’ll not falter this time. The last time was rash foolishness, but I think it was something I had to do. The issue wasn’t in having it happen, it was in how I handled it when it fell apart. There’s no falling apart this time. This is the last barrier to conquer. After this, things will really start to change for the better. There will be no stopping me.
Not an original title, I know, but it fits. For once, the post starts there. The title usually follows the post, summing it up and presenting it in a nice little bow. Err…
I remember thinking to myself on New Year’s Day this year that it was going to be a good tear. I had no idea why, really. On that day, I knew I wouldn’t have a job in 9 days. I still had no prospect for work after that. I was still alone. I still lacked a lot. But as I stood there,
sipping chugging cinnamon whiskey, I couldn’t help but think that things would go well for me this year. It was finally time for a good year. I’d earned it, hadn’t I? I had a lot of bad years since my last good one.
I didn’t know then that it really would be a good year. I don’t even have any idea why this year should be any better than the others, but it is. I’m growing, I’m shrinking, I’m learning, and I’m getting myself out there. Within the first month I had already come closer to having sex than I ever had before. The next month I actually painted something for the first time in years. During those first 3 months, I was out of work, but I was happy. I got by and managed to survive it until I got my old job back. After I got my job back, I managed to dig myself out of the hole that unemployment caused and started buying myself paint supplies so I could start painting more, which I have been doing. I even started talking with someone. It’s not what I had imagined, but it has been incredible. I’ve grown a lot through that. This blog is an extension of that.
I have had some bad times though. I had a couple unexpected hospital trips that I really couldn’t afford. A bill collector finally caught up with me (though I am happy to finally be paying it off). I found out it wouldn’t be possible for me to move out on my own this year. Worst of all, I lost my Nana. Even now, I’m getting misty-eyed. However, with the exception of my Nana’s passing, most of the bad has been set backs that weren’t all that bad, really. They sucked, but they didn’t stop me.
In truth, these few things are the only things I can put my finger on as bad times, which is amazing. When I really look back on this year, it has been a very good year. So much is going right in my life for the first time in many, many years. I’m even trying to start a business and have an idea for another one that may get started soon. This year really is going well, and as I type this out, I see that as dark as my other blogs get, they are just letting things go. They are my way of moving on. I am not done with them, but they do not weigh on me as much because they are here.
I have a lot in me that I need to write about. I have a lot that is trying to escape me. I’ve spent a lifetime repressing everything, but I am trying to change that. The writing helps. I have worked through a lot of things through this writing. I have already changed some opinions and thoughts from the very first posts to now.
Thus far I have covered my loneliness, my fear, my hatred, and my pain. I’ve really only touched on those things though, so there are many more posts like that to come. However, there are other things I need to get out. I still haven’t touched bullying, religion, faith, music, drugs, or art, to name a few. There is much I have left to write about. I know there are a few posts about bullying in me, just as there is an entire series on religion. I may start with an outline for the religion posts and relegate them to their own page. There was a time in my life when I was supposed to preach and though it is no longer my calling, that man is still within me. Music and art… well, they fall under religion too. So do drugs, in a sense. These things will get their own posts as well.
I’ve only been doing this for all of 15 days and once this is published, it will be my 10th blog to date and the 4th in just over 48 hours. In total I have written 5736 words (this blog not counted). The darker the subject, the longer it has been. My shortest posts were about being happy. Unfortunately, that can’t be helped yet. Happiness is still a rarity for me. There is much darkness waiting to be expelled, so those will still tend to be the longest posts. I long for the day when I can write about how well things are going, but at this time, I can’t even fathom how they would look or sound.
Though I know what I feel I need to write about, I cannot predict when, how, or why I will write about things. The writing just happens. I have a feeling this week will see a lot of posts though. I will be left to my own devices for some time, which means the odds of my going into my head are high. However, rather than dwelling on it all, I will come here. This is my release, my catharsis. This is my sanity.
For now, I write only for myself. I know I have friends and family that read it, though it is still just a small handful of people. I am no longer going to hide myself away. I may not approach anyone directly about what I write, but in time I will be open to discussing it. In truth, I did not expect what has come of this. I wrote that first blog and it opened a floodgate. I expected to be my old cheeky and self deprecating self from my days on myspace doing this, but I was very wrong. Those blogs were more about stroking my ego. I wrote them because I wanted people to see just how much pain I had, like I was bragging about it. I stopped when others stopped reading or commenting. Now, I have few reads and few comments, but there’s no fucking stopping this. This is blast off. This is aiming for the stars because fuck stopping at the moon or mars. This will be me. It will be a telling of my journey. I’ve started it already, but, for now, I am still writing the preamble. I have to work through the past to get to the present and clear the way for the future.
I’m finally unlocking parts of my mind I thought I had lost. When I look back on my darkest times, I see that they were literally dark. I see it. The memories are dim and tinged in grime. There are some I need to clean off and truly explore, but there are others that disgust me and make me wonder how I could have let that happen. When I look at my present, it is clear, though chaotic. I can’t really look to the future yet. It’s still hazy, but I see there is sunshine there, it just has to burn the haze off. In spite of how I talk in other blogs about how I can’t stand fucking waiting anymore, I realize I don’t have much longer to wait. I may end up waiting a few years yet to find Her, but in a few months I think I will be so busy I won’t have the time to feel the waiting press upon me.
This is just one of several avenues I am exploring. It has already consumed me, but I have other things I will focus on as well. I have my weight loss to work on. I am still not where I need to be with exercising, but I am working on that and actually don’t mind walking places anymore, I just happen to live in the hills and am not quite built to handle that yet. I am working on my eating though. I no longer crave fast food all the time. I eat it rarely (for me). At most, it is once a week and even then, it will only be 1 or 2 small items at the most. Yes, that’s not perfect, but I am not that. There was a time when I would eat it every day, or more. I also do not buy any frozen foods, a former staple of mine. I do not keep any junk food in the house anymore. I used to buy a box of zingers and finish it in a night. And, you know, I’m happy about it. The few times I have had fast food it hasn’t been satisfying and has fucked with my body enough that I didn’t want to go back.
On top of that, I have my painting. It’s still in the fledgling stages, but it is getting there. I have already had one paid job. That came 3 months after I started really painting again. I do not know where the next 3 months will take me. I even set up a Facebook page specifically for my painting, Kustom Painting by forgotn. As I clear out some of my demons, I know that my art will flourish in a way it never has before. I had no idea I could paint what I could when I picked up that airbrush 3 months ago. It literally just happened. Before I knew it, I had something I loved and was excited about, something I have rarely felt about my art before. I know that I am only just beginning with it, and already it is far greater than I ever expected. it will take me far. I strive to be the best. I want people to know my name because of my art. I want to be featured in Airbrush Action and other national publications. And I know I will.
I even have music again. It never really left me, but during my darkest time I ended up with 25,000+ songs because I was seeking anything that could fulfill me and not finding it in any of the music I found. It was just collecting it for the sake of collecting it. it gave me no fulfillment. However, I found it again. I found it in a greater way than I did even at 14. It motivates me again. I am enjoying all of the new stuff I find. I thought I had varied tastes before, but now it’s exploding. I even found release in some stuff. I found one song that touched my soul, and it came from a place I never expected. The first time I heard Created a Monster by Krizz Kaliko, I choked up. The first time I heard it after my trip, I broke down completely. It allowed me to mourn that broken child that was bullied for all those years.
Though I have still yet to find love, I am finding that I am easier around people in general again. At the darkest, I had developed a fairly severe case of agoraphobia. I had trouble going to my best friend’s house, let alone somewhere where many people would be. After my 6 month break from humanity, I did work to get back out there. Fight Night helped with that greatly. It was a once monthly event where I would be surrounded by people I did not know, forcing myself to deal with, at the very least, the sensation of being around them even if I did not engage them. Now, when I go to Fight Night (or any other social function) I do get a bit nervous beforehand, but I openly engage people while I am there, something that just 2 years ago filled me with so much fear I had issues getting out of bed.
That comfortability with people will continue to grow and will eventually lead me to a place where I am truly open. This will be compounded by the increased confidence I will gain in losing weight, painting, and generally becoming more comfortable with myself.
I’ve had a friend telling me I needed to learn to love myself. I kept telling her I didn’t know how, that I couldn’t. I seem to have been wrong. This started as an overview of where this blog would go and what I wanted to do with it, but I think it has evolved into a love letter to myself. I clearly have things that I can love, I just overlook them and marginalize them. I know I’m an amazing person. I know I am one of the good ones. I just kept seeing myself through the eyes of those that had scorned me. For once, I think I am seeing them through my own eyes. I see that there is stuff worth loving. I still see things to hate as well, but I am learning to be alright with the ones I cannot change. There will be days I can’t look past them, but eventually, the days I don’t notice them will outnumber them. I am growing. Far faster than I realize.
It’s interesting to notice this stuff so randomly. I hadn’t planned this, I just started writing. The writing helps me explore things without getting overly stuck on certain parts. When I think this stuff through, I tend to find one aspect of what could be an entire post and obsess on it. I would blow it up into a macro and get lost in a single pixel, ignoring the rest of the picture that loomed so greatly around me. This blog is growth. It is catharsis. It is me. It is still very wordy (I am approaching the 2000 word mark for this blog), but I think it has to be for now. Eventually, I will change that. I will add art to it and I will design it more. Even tonight, I changed the theme for the blog. It is far less dark and I think the tone of the newer posts reflects that. In a sense, all of this is working to bring color back into my life. The more color, the less darkness. I’m still living in a mostly gray world, but I am finding bits of color here and there. Even the gray is an improvement over the pure black that it was just 2 years ago. There’s even a bit of pink coming up soon. That should be an interesting time. Plenty of exploration to do there.
As I start this new paragraph, I realize that it is likely to be the last. I think it is time to draw this to an end. I have covered many things here, but I think the one that will affect me most is that there is much to love in myself. There is also still much to explore. And so, for the first time in any of these writings, I do not sign off dark, or even happy, but contented, something I have not felt in a long time.
And thus, I bid you good night. I love you all and will be back sooner rather than later.
I never really knew just how fucked up my mind was. I’ve been lying to myself for a very long time. As far as I know, the last person I *really* opened up to was Anna. She stomped on my fucking heart when I did it. Haven’t done it since, until very, very recently. Why should I have? If every time I let myself be vulnerable I was going to have my heart crushed, why the fuck should I be vulnerable?
Well, because there is no way to find anyone in this world if I’m not willing to be vulnerable. Yes, some of them will hurt me, but there will be one that never will. And she is worth all of the heartache I have to go through to get to her. I’ll find her and it won’t matter anymore. Not the one that laughed, not the ones that gave me snide looks, and especially not the one that told me I wasn’t good enough, because I’ll have someone that cares and she’ll be all that matters.
I’ve blamed everything but myself for all this time. I blamed my size, saying no one wanted to be with a fat man. I said I was just too awkward, that no one wanted to be with someone so weird. That I just didn’t know how to talk to women (partially true, I do have issues engaging, but that can be overcome). I said they were just using me, that they were bitches that wanted anything from me but love. That… a million fucking other things. None of them are really true. Yes, being big limits me, as does being awkward, but those are hurdles, not walls. There are those out there that don’t care.
In truth, it’s all lies told to comfort myself. The hardest truth is that while I pined for love and whined about being alone, I never did a goddamned thing to change it. Not really. When it came to love, I never opened up. I gave them what they wanted and hoped they would freely offer what I wanted. I never put in the effort. I never let them know what I wanted. I wouldn’t let them see me vulnerable unless they showed me they absolutely wouldn’t hurt me. Of course, they couldn’t show me that. I never gave them a real chance to. I assumed they would hurt me, so I did what I could to keep them from doing it.
I paid for that dearly. I’m now 26 and have never really let anyone in. I even held my friends and family back. I’ve been more open on the internet than I have been face to face. I’ll tell a random blog all about the shit inside me, but it’s hard to tell the people around me. I’ve internalized all of it and it has tried to destroy my mind. I’m still not comfortable opening up about it. It’s my pain and my shame and it’s hard to talk about. I don’t like to cry in front of people, but if I talk about this stuff, I will. I did when I wrote this.
I think that I’m more willing to open up now. I know it has to happen if I want to move forward. It’s a scary thought though. I’ve spent my life not letting anyone see any of it. Going out, putting on a smile, pretending it was fine. I know those that know me well saw through it, but I still had the veneer on. I still did everything I could to hide it. I also know that they could see there were things wrong, but I don’t know that they ever knew what.
Because I held it all in, it used to manifest itself in other ways. I used to cut. A lot. I tell people I don’t keep lighters around because I liked to set stuff on fire, but the real truth is I do it to keep from burning myself. I used to hold the lighter on or to a piece of metal and then hold it to myself once it was hot. I’m covered in scars. I used to have severe anger issues. There were holes in my walls. My knuckles are still fucked from hitting stuff. I used to hit myself too. Anything I could do to hurt myself physically. It’s why I wasn’t afraid to do stupid shit that would hurt me. Nothing I did to myself physically could hurt me as much as my mind already hurt.
Alcohol never helped either. I found the bottom of many bottles and never got away from the pain. However, alcohol could let me overcome myself. Sober, I have kissed all of one woman and that was 10 years ago. Everything else I have ever done has come well into a bottle. it’s still not much, but it was something, though it is bittersweet. Yes, I have done it, but I didn’t feel much. I didn’t remember much. I didn’t really enjoy it. Needing alcohol for that was not good though. It was a band aid to a larger issue. I am glad I never managed to lose my virginity drunk. I would’ve regretted that.
This all comes back to what they all come back to. Loneliness. This time though, I realize it was my fault. I drove people away. Unfortunately, knowing that doesn’t give me any knowledge of how to find someone to let in, but I do know to try and let them in when I find them. I still hope it doesn’t take much longer. I know I need to grow before I can be ready, but I also feel like I need it to be whole.
I will be dealing with some of this soon, in a very direct way. I will be doing something that forces me to confront many of my fears of intimacy. I will be going on a trip and putting myself out there. I do not expect it to end in pain, but the potential for it is there. It requires me to go far beyond my comfort zone. It requires me to be vulnerable. It terrifies me, but it also excites me. It’s been a very long time since I put myself out there. This will not be a trip to see Her, but it will be a trip to help me break out of the shell I have encased myself in. It is the next step in healing and moving forward and I hope it propels me far.
I still fear dying alone, but I do not think I will be the one causing it anymore. I still fear being hurt, but I realize that cannot be avoided if I really want to find love. I know few could hurt me the way Anna did. I have to risk it though. If I don’t risk getting hurt, I risk dying alone.