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.
I think that being in this body has shaped the way I love others as well. For the longest time, I didn’t expect to be loved, although, a lot of people find me a attractive, I didn’t and a lot of times, I still don’t. It is very hard to fully love someone if you don’t love yourself first. It’s part of the reason my last relationship failed. I loved Veronica to the end of the Earth, and I should say love because that will never change. However, as much work as I was putting into loving her in a physical sense, mentally I wasn’t there. I wasn’t able to deal with the outside distractions that come with being a relationship–the family interference, the what-ifs of us both having something wrong with us and whether or not she truly accepted me as a man, her man and being a potential father to her child. I couldn’t believe a lot of the things she told me because of me; only me and how I felt about me, placed me in a space of paranoia. Therefore, everything negative in our relationship got heightened and eventually, she couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take it and a year and a half later, she avoids me like the plague, it seems. I think I really knew it was JUST OVER on my birthday. She sent me an IM like I was a nobody–like “happy birthday” and that was it. Honestly, it bothered me for half a second and then I was like, I’ve moved on. Veronica makes me that guy that was a year ago. I know that. That guy that has rage fits, panic attacks and can’t relate to people. The people that I’m around now, see me for the guy that I am today. I am reformed–reinvented into a greater individual that is ready to take on the challenge of someone new that I can begin again with. I don’t fault Veronica for leaving, although, my heart sometimes wishes she stayed; that I would truly know she loves me as she claims had she stayed and helped me. Then there’s the other part that says this had to happen for me to wake up and get it together. I was not the guy I dreamed of becoming. I wasn’t that perfection that I claimed to be. Sometimes in order to change, one must endure the hardest struggle and it rock bottom. I never thought I would propose to a woman; love a woman enough to push myself to that step. I always thought a woman would beat me to it. I love Veronica because she is incredibly strong, with all her flaws, the true essence of what I can admire in a human being. With my therapy and self-appreciation, I have turned over a new lease on life and although Veronica didn’t take me back, I’m free now. From myself. I am not afraid of love and if I can find someone that will go to bat for me, stand up for me through anything, I know I will fall in love with her and do whatever I can to make it work. My 28 year old heart is just as big as the day I found it when I was 13 and I made that promise to myself that I would not be the statistic I thought I was (being disabled, lonely and scared of the world) and get married to a nice woman who sees me for me, not my disability. If I could get lucky enough to have a healthy child, that would be even better. The world can be a playground, but I only have room for one in my sandbox. I’m ready to go at it again. Hopefully, the next time, will be the last time.
I’ve heard my entire life that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. The older a person gets, the harder it is to convince them of anything other than their normalcy. While, in a lot of cases, I have found this to be true, I would have to disagree. I have been screwing up, alienating myself and just being a total dick to just about everyone for the last 15 years or so. I’ve come to see the error of my ways and while I’m a hard work in progress, change is possible. I have to remember my overall objective and tell myself that it isn’t worth hurting others and I will not get satisfaction out of it long term, but it has been working for me for the last 8 months or so. Do I have set backs? Sure. However, I’ve come to learn that falling down in life is, in fact, a part of life. I’ve been so comfortable on the floor and pulling others down to my level, that I forgot what it felt like to stand up and stretch. Now that I’m broadening my horizons, putting myself on the line completely and opening up (as scary as all of this is for me), I have come to appreciate a different side to life. I know the my heart is good. I just have to man the reigns and hold on this mindset that likes to run away from me at times. It is so easy for me to be angry and take it out on others because that is what I have been doing virtually my entire life. There’s no challenge in it. The feat I’m trying to accomplish gives me so much more of a high because it IS difficult for me. Being nice is hard for me, but I have been realizing that maybe there is a different approach I can take. People don’t have to fear me for me to be tolerated. People don’t have to secretly judge me and then smile in my face to tolerate me. I can genuine allow people to get to know me and hope for the best. So far, I’ve had mixed results and my anger likes to take over at times, as a protection mechanism, but for once, I’m going to try keep my guard down; for now.