Putting It on the Table

The hardest thing to do is to ask for help when you can’t fathom why you need it.

This has been a struggle for most of my life. In one form or another, I have always shied away from help.  It made me feel weak and worthless; as though I didn’t have the power to stand on my own feet. I have had people helping me since my earliest memories without justification.  I’m disabled, not broken, I can do it.  Well, in fact, I do and have felt broken a lot in the past. My belief that I was put

in the wrong body, led down the wrong path and quite possibly, given the wrong support team has cultivated my modern day depression/anxiety cocktail.  Drowning in pills and knife play has burrowed its way into the background of my life–for which I have grown accustomed, but feel guilty at the same time.

My strive for perfection has always been a hindrance to my personal and social growth.  The ideology that I have created; this creed to never make the same mistake twice overwhelms me with pressure and now the blurred lines I have crossed with certain loved ones have left me lonely and confused.

I believe that I have been preconditioned to see only the negative in everything that I or anyone else does.  The belief that I’m so great is a facade for the fact that I’m scared of everything in life.  The anger I utilized as fuel to push my way out is the same emotion I used to keep me stagnate.  The secret belief of feeling undeserving of love, the inability to start/finish anything I am truly passionate about consistent adds to my inability to relate to others until it’s too late.

The biggest problem I have is that I am objectively aware that I have a problem without a true means to find solace or resolution–whichever is easiest to find that I live happily with.  Even with a therapist who listens and cares, I am missing something that I have been looking for my entire existence, self-acceptance.  I have learned that neither a girlfriend, boyfriend, lover, friend, family member, therapist or medicine can provide me wholly.  This one is my sole responsibility that I try hard everyday, not to let take me to the dark, deep hole I can’t crawl out from.

I used to think I didn’t need help. That I was strong enough everything thrown at me. I am wise enough to know better, through trial and error, love and lost.  I have reached out for help, it just hasn’t reached back.

Love’s A Question

The problem, it seems, is that love is a common question; what it means and how it is supposed to effect two or more people.

Since no two people really think alike, aligning feelings can be a challenge.  I was told very recently that I love too hard–too aggressively–and that can be intimidating or put too much pressure on those that I love. Now, while I can’t refute this truth, I simply act on my natural feelings and my response, as arrogant as it may be, if my love is too much, then just maybe, you are not worthy of such love.

I love with all that I am; a man in touch with every sensation that, at times, puts me in awkward situations. I admit that my style of love has caused me great hardship over the years–many mistakes and misunderstandings–however, I try to learn something from them to be better in the future.

I am that guy that still loves my exes (the ones I told I love you too), and I am that guy that cherishes all that time, even the last day that love was reciprocated.

Though attractive or very unattractive because it can poke holes in my ability to fully move on from one relationship to the next, I’m open, I’m honest, I’m just me simply seeking acceptance.

You’re Just an Ex, What Did You Expect

I needed closure, but I never expected the door to the love I have held so close for so long to get slammed in my face. It took a couple of weeks to work up my nerves to text her and that granted me a 45 minute conversation that left no hint of remorse and listening to phrases such as “yes, you did a lot for me after we broke up, but what do you think I owe you.” I have never known my nerd to be so cold-hearted. Her parents racist demeanor and overall hatred towards me for at least the first 2 years of our relationship, in her mind, should have had no impact on my anger even though I wanted to be accepted by them. She said they didn’t like me because they knew about my first girlfriend, years ago, that developed into one of my best friends. I didn’t know that confusion or dislike was in direct correlation with racism, but I must have been mistaken. I remember when we first met, we would have to sneak phone calls and when they found out, they would argue and take her phone away so she couldn’t talk to me. I’m pretty sure that my first girlfriend, years ago, wasn’t a factor in those types of behaviors, but I digress.

She told me she was in a different place now, which I can understand, however, the disrespect behind her tone–it was just jarring for me; my wake up call so to speak. I wanted to get coffee and talk (when we broke up and she wanted to rekindle things, she invited me for a drink–I guess I was thinking something similar without the rekindling.) I love her so much, I was willing to settle to just be in her life. My text to her was “I still love you. Is it possible to grab coffee soon.” Not have sex or kiss or talk about anything that remotely would make her uncomfortable as I know she is in a relationship. I have nothing against this guy. A couple of years back, when she was in college, once the three of us ate lunch together and she talked about him a time or two after that throughout the course of our relationship. I can’t say that she was intimate with him or not while we were together as some would assume. It’s just irrelevant at this point.

I really wanted to talk about the cats, Piper and Kahlo, the best birthday gift that I had ever received that was taken from me under false pretenses. Had I known, in clear conscience, that I would never seen my babies again, I would have never agreed to let both of them stay with her. How is it fair to me? It hurts me to no end that I have lost her and my babies, but when I think about losing them and never seeing them, some days, I must admit, that it is unbearable. I see Piper in Sebastian when he is just being chill and then when he licks my face when he feels I’m sad, I’m reminded of Kahlo. Sebastian is a welcomed addition, but he can never be a substitute for what I held so dear before him.

My wish is that Veronica could just breathe a little, remember the best part of me and then give me the courtesy of seeing them again–joint custody maybe, I don’t know. It’s frightening to me how cruel she is now. The tone she has when she talks to me. It’s a very indifferent, whatever, I don’t need this and you’re lucky I picked up the phone to talk to you, type of thing and I’m wondering how could she have ever loved me if that’s how she truly feels about me. I remember my angry self with her and I was bad enough, but I always told and SHOWED her love while I tried to work through the problem. Of course, she isn’t me. Maybe she just has either/or, happy or angry and right now, she must feel I deserve all of her discontentment. I love her anyways and will continue to think about her well-being just as I always have since the moment I met her. My love doesn’t change.

At the very least, I’ve been set free. I don’t feel the weight of wonder anymore. It has finally sunk in that Veronica being with me is a thing of the past; that family I often dreamed of is has truly vanished and I must move forward, not only for myself, but for Sebastian. If I don’t deserve a happy, healthy life, he sure does. When I don’t have courage to move on for me, I will think of him; do it for him

Actual Work Not The Issue

I’m starting to hate a lot of things and people at work.  I’m tired before I arrive due to the stress of what I have to deal with, unrelated to the actual job. I’m tired of folks coming to me telling me I need to smile and laugh, conversate, etc. like it’s something I signed up for. There is only so much fake I can take and my mouth gets tired of smiling for no reason. Why can’t I just complete my job and go home. All this extra is causing my anxiety levels to go up and I’m afraid of what will happen if I can’t keep calm one day. It is not my job to make others comfortable, happy or smile.  If they can’t get that in their personal life then I feel sorry for them. I don’t think I will be able to take asking me to be cheerful much longer. I don’t go to work to make friends. Call me crazy, but I go to work to WORK! Leave me be.  For, now, I will take breaks to clear my head.

Just Eh

Unfortunately, the older I get the less Christmas has a meaning.  I’m not religious so there isn’t a true tie there and I’m not keen on large family/friend gatherings so the 25th of December doesn’t lend itself to me gearing up to see folks I haven’t seen in a while.  I guess it doesn’t help that I believe if you truly love someone, you shouldn’t wait until a holiday to call or go see them, but I guess that’s just me.  I did wish I could see my cats, Kahlo and Piper, but that is was a thought dead in the water before it fully materialized. I wish them and my ex the best today as I do everyday.

For the most part, I’ve been pretty chill today.  I’ve had minor anxiety flare ups, but not to the point I’m reaching for pills.  I just keep looking at Sebastian (my new cat) and wondering if he can see it, feel it–the antsy-ness inside of me.  He’s a pretty chill cat though and, at times, I wonder if he’s happy here.  I haven’t had much interaction outside of myself so I can’t be sure if this is his natural demeanor or if he is unhappy with my unhappiness.  That’s probably my mind just creating things, allowing myself to be negative as always.  However, it brings me to my next point–in therapy, the other day, we talked about Jacob, the other me, and how I truly felt about him and his actions.  I came to the conclusion that Jacob doesn’t exist; a strong figment of my imagination that rely on so I don’t have to accept my responsibility.  My therapist shied away from this stating in so many words that it is too early for him to really tell if I have an alter or personality disorder or whatever.  I won’t accept it.  I preach about responsibility to myself and others so much, believing in Jacob would really be a contradiction to everything I try to represent.  In 2014, I’m trying to regain my life without him.  I did tell my therapist that I have anxiety issues and a mind that ends up everywhere so I need meds for that, but just that.  This other me is a thing of the past.  I have allowed my anger, fear and whatever else that is negative inside me to get the best of me for far too long and I have lost (damn, I have lost) so much over it.  Not anymore.  I am making concious efforts to rid myself of the monster that lives inside me; become one with and embrace him for who and what he is, just me.  Jacob, you only have a week, give or take to do your thing, because I’m getting your cage ready.

Contemplating 2014

It is exactly one week and two days until the new year’s beginning and I’m stuck in a pattern I am trying to break.  I feel like I have been in a continuous time loop of destruction for the last 3 years of my life.  I have come to a lot of realizations about who I am as a man–a person, and I suck. It’s mostly been negative after negative after negative. I’m socially incompetent and my reliance on medicine to think/focus is becoming mundane.  A big part of my existence is my inability to love wholly (one of my strongest desires in life).  I think my best friends put up with me out of necessity. They take care of me, continuing to prove their genuine generosity whenever possible, but I always question my level of appreciation.  I have so much to be thankful for, but my mind won’t allow what it is I’m so desparate to feel. 

Officially, I have lost a woman that I loved beyond anything, yet I got in the way. She did what was best for her and objectively, I can understand the need to get away from an angered, ranging maniac completely; with my cats or what was my cats, by her side. Then after an extensive search, I found someone who could withstand my destruction, yet, I felt myself demeaning her existence. I could see her future self begin to hate me for my lack of love and appreciation, thus, we amicably parted ways.  She was the next best thing to my relationship norm, yet, I found ways to be ungrateful and pushed myself to be aggravated and annoyed by the smallest things.

So as I look to revamp my existence and find purpose in my personal life, maybe I should come to realize that what I truly desire isn’t the appreciation of someone else, but for my inner workings to appreciate itself.

Should Be Thankful But

I should have plenty to be thankful for this year–the reinvention of a spirit that has been broken and scarred since childhood has been very tough mentally to address but I have. So many emotions I have overcome to finally start addressing the problem (and I have few folks I can thank for that).  I guess I have always been unappreciative though; always looking for more or the next big thing, dubbing myself the ultimate opportunist.  This is just different. I feel my unhappiness in the pit of my stomach. So much so, I’m feeling sick right now. 

The holidays and everyday for that matter, should be spent with people that fill your heart the most and while I am thankful for the new additions in my life, I still cherish and love, with everything in me, the ones I can no longer touch. That, alone, brings forth a pain that I can’t escape.

My Love is Killing Me

I keep going up and down; a walking contradiction of what I tell myself every morning–let her go!  However, I keep proving that my love is too strong.  Everything that I couldn’t do with her, I can do now and I would give anything for her to see me now. How calm I can be and rageless. The more I date, the more miserable I become. I have tried the whole fake it to make it routine and it is destroying me. Without my rage, I have so much anxiety and she is the core of it.  I just know it would work now, but her hatred for me doesn’t allow her to speak to me anymore. I can’t even remember the last time she took the time to send me a picture of my cats; see I am fucking crazy for thinking they are still my cats and I haven’t seen them in months.  I just can’t break this connection. I’ve been saying she is my soulmate for so long, my soul is broken without her. I don’t even care how I sound or how pathetic I seem. I ruined the best thing I could have hoped for and I’m paying for it ten-fold while she has moved on with her life.  Somebody shoot me now so I can feel something other than sadness PLEASE!

Anxiety Filled, Love Driven

I’ve amazed myself on how I’ve been able to bounce back juggling so many disappoints in the last year.  I was able to get through the summer knowing that just year ago I proposed, actually on my knees, to a woman who said now was not the time and she hoped that her lack of positive response wouldn’t “ruin me”.  Although, it doesn’t hurt as much as it did for the first week after–me begging her to reconsider, stating I could fix what was broken if she would just follow our plan of marriage–there is a small part of me that feels that heartbreak still.

Now our would-be anniversary is right around the corner and I know it’s just dead at this point, but admittedly, I’m still holding on to something there, so I will keep holding on to the story of our beginning.  For now, it’s all I need.