After regaining my patience, I walked over to the kitchen table and found The Matron curled up in my usual spot on sleep and at peace. There was a time before the dog when she would at least attempt to sleep near me wherever she could, yet the dog being yappy and a bit of a dick always tried to go for her tail despite knowing that she would slash four across his eyes in any attempt. I still think he thinks it's a stupid game in which he has no idea how close the cat is to teaching him a very serious lesson.
I feel a bit of remorse when I turn on the light overhead and place my chrome book next to her. She utters a small protest in which I mimic and sit in front of her. I used to study in this same stop for 9 hours straight for the majority of the week. At times being the only person at home, she would seek my nearness and lack of effort to constantly pet her even if she was far more adorable than she probably deserves to me. She rises and does that funky stretch that always makes them look as if they're going to launch themselves into space and our dance of salutations. She rubs against my face as I also seek her side. It leaves a lot of fur on your face and yet I always do so considering I'm always counting her days and have lost many a feline friend in the most stupidest and cruelest fashion.
Always give love when you can, even if you can't collect. The act of giving is often more than enough.
We get into our positions. She with her rear pressed against my machine and I tapping away with this at the moment. It's only 8 pm and I feel that I should have been much more productive even though I'm suffering a bout of stuff in my throat and apathy. Much like the pre-cold, it sticks to me until I can gather enough warmth to loosen it once more and chances are I'm not doing anything productive, much less pro-active to pull myself out of it. These are the moments I feel anything close to loneliness. When I'm feeling a bit less than what I'm constantly told that I should feel and there is no one around to pull me out. There are small moments when I do break down with a text to someone asking them to lie to me and tell em things will be alright. Almost immediately they respond in cheery manner and ask if they have to come pick me up. I already feel bad about asking for affirmance, I'd hate to make them come get me even if I don't need it. I know if something does happen I can have a small squadron moving towards me and there have been times when I refused to participate and simply sat outside to see them arrive. Somehow I gathered a magnificent collection of people who would do this, even if I'm the last person to ever say they need it.
I pulled a bit of sweet potato from a steamer used and start eating it without desire. I know it has to be something since I have no sense of joy. I can not understand if it's physical or mental and at times I don't bother questioning it despite how I DO question everything. The Matron demands a bit more attention as she rubs me close and almost begins to lecture me on my appearance. She immediately begins to bathe me, with muttered meows of how I should have done thins myself. She continues to apply affection on my arm halting it from writing and even gets me to rub her a bit more. Funny, is there any other animal besides cats and dogs who find joy with you rubbing their face? It's all odd and I pull away to get to work as she utters more complaints and how I should not put myself through a few more hours of tappy tappy grr grr or what I call trying to write.
When I tell people now, I'm really trying it gains me some new pause. They can actually see I'm trying and at the moment I'm trying to fail upwards rather than away. Right now I realize that I actually had plans to visit a close friend. I think it would have been enough of a break through to even want this rather than try to not go because MEH. Yea, once again therapy has pulled down walls I used to protect and hold me in and now I realize much to my surprise I want to see people. I want to spend time with them even if MEH has me by a death grip. I limit my time, sure, but I want to go. I want to be around these people I can't fucking get rid of this point.
*looks towards the fucking elephant in the room and lifts his arms in to declare defeat, walks over to it, and punches it on the fucking trunk again. That's how high I can punch it, it's a fucking elephant*
I'm going to make myself look even more fucking alien than before. I'm going to make you wonder what the fuck is wrong with me because I have to get this off my chest and if I don't it's only going to weigh me down and drag me back to old places and depressing thoughts. I'm through with that shit. My new goal is to fuck myself up in new places and make more of a fucking fool on how much I honestly don't know how things are.
I'm in my fucking 40's, something I never thought would happen or arrive. I'm in my fucking 40's and I honestly know fucking nothing of worth. I don't know if it was because I was never taught, ever understood or even realized I'm part of. It almost feels as if I'm coming out of my cave of isolation only to discover a good friend waiting at the mouth of the cave waiting to give me a piece of their mind on ho much of an asshole I am for being in there in the first place. I get it, but I just realized there was an exit. Can I get that much? I know, everyone else knew, but I didn't. And if I had ANY ability to lie I would have come up with a better option then "I didn't know" because it's that sad. It's almost sad enough to go back in and close the fucking cave.
I mean, I just discovered how boundaries work and yes, Crazy Doc says I'm really doing well because I'm using that shit like it had an expiration date. I know people see me being difficult and believe I'm being so just because, but no. I'm really tearing up old shit that I was told years ago by some really fucked up people who needed a host to parasite to. I'm reviewing everything everyone has taught me about love and friends and I'm not doing it right. I have people who I'm friends with over 10 years minimum of trying to get rid of them somehow and each and every fucking time they pull me out of my funk and try to have me be people. That's shit is annoying and I've learned to live with it and they even learned to let me hide out, be quiet, and just be a miserable fuck if it meant that I would only go the fuck outside and chance getting shit on. Well, that just starting to change. I'm starting to feel I want to be outside. That I always felt being outside was never an option, but I might want to give it a try at least until someone yells at me to go back in. I don't understand it, but I am different. I'm more human as if that ever meant anything. It's not like I ever wanted to be less, but I want more. I want what's due and what I don't understand. That's what's driving me now, what is it that I don't understand that a person in a sunny bright room overlooking the graveyard can have so much immense patience with me and say, "no....no, someone misinformed you. You don't have to do that. You just have to do this."
I mean, I'm past feeling awkward at realizing I know nothing.
*looks right over to the same fucking elephant, now rubbing its stupid fucking trunk and smacks it another, leaving a very nasty bruise and wince. Mind you, it's imaginary and I would never do this to a living creature, ever, but for the analogy, you better be getting used to this shit from now on because I'm tearing all this shit down*
The very concept of love has been taught to me by people who should have been fucking committed. People who should have been committed as psychopaths who taught me that I need to give everything to people and that I had no value outside of a certain group of people being happy due to my actions. That my only purpose what to be the monkey wrench to certain type of people so that they can continue to tear themselves apart only to have them build them up again. To not try anything different and to remain hidden for fear of people discovering what I am as if there is anything wrong with it. That I should hold my tongue, take a hit, and know I am nothing. That I'm valued for the same attributes that make them want to punch me in the face for. That I should be their appendage, their piece of sanity in people form and holding them broken down should be a privilege and honor even if they had to get rough with me. In my really fucked up and naive start as someone who cares, I have endured shit that if I ever told anyone about they would recoil in horror, not only because shit like that happens but from now discovering my monotone ability to recite said horrific memories often has always chilled people into realizing I'm not really all there. That such a thing happening to anyone should tear them apart and my existence proves that some things can be survived, but the cost is a terrible monument to the uncanny valley of which I am a regular in.
So I'm always trying to relive interactions and moments that I could not understand. Now with this realization, I'm in shock that I don't fall into my own beautiful mind hell where I count the holes in the tiles, realize that I will never fit in as human and that my own action cause me my own injuries. The fact that I know this shit is real is just....surreal. I now see things that could have been said and done to prevent any of this. If I was ever able to walk over to little boy me, I realize that a long hour hug would have been a great start. Teaching him boundaries and what friends can ask for and what they can not. What love interest I should remain a distant acquaintance due to any red flag, that my own mind was my own and I had all rights to feel any way I could even if I could not understand it. That I didn't need to place the world on my shoulders, people are not all cruel or in need of something you have. That I can trust people and if they stick with my stubborn and goofy ass after 10 years they are family. That my family is the result of the twisted and sick effect of selfishness of others and the cruelty of no one standing up to them. That I would probably should keep certain people I've been to bed with as friends instead of lovers, that some people can not be made happy by my means and I must walk away before their self-inflicted misery infect me. Just because she has blue hair is not a reason to go along with her. That I should always keep a sense of humor because it will stop people from shooting me. That it's ok to hug your friends a little longer instead of pushing them off. That it's going to be ok once they understand what each scar had to teach me in my long train wreck of a life.
That people will never understand and those who try to make any attempt to should be humored, but not given free reign to me. That it's ok to walk way. That it's fine to realize you need someone to stand with you only to help you say the hard things that hurt so much to say. That it's ok to call the squadron in when you are past your limit and let them take care of you. There there are good people in the world and you are not alone. That's its ok to cry even if you think you ran out of tears.
*sigh*
Apathy is realizing no one cares you have just been knocked down. That your life is a bit harder than theirs. That sometimes you can't lift your arms to fight back because it's all you do and you'd rather get the beating because it will be over soon, just close your eyes and it will be over. That the Warm Jets never come. The calvary will arrive at your end. That even if you overcome the hardest thing you have even endured, tomorrow is another day and you have to do it again. It's knowing your scream will never be heard because no one has ever heard it and you just don't have it in your to scream anymore. It's crawling toward the impossible with the heavy boot of doubt pressed upon you. It's opening the yogurt that says, "Sorry, please try again" and noticing the yogurt is cheese.
That's apathy.
It's what I'm fighting now. There was a brief moment where I looked over my shoulder, more reflex than anything and noticed that the Abyss was no seen. Remembering moments where I stared into it when first opening my eyes for the day and knowing it was the last sight endured before sleep would take me. There were times I seen life within it and moments realizing I was looking at the world from the inside of it and not caring if I sink lower into it to forget it's maw all together. For a small moment in my existence, I was out and much like John Cusack, I scream now that I was out. I was for a moment of time out and it did not exist. Now, I see it near. I see it and I actually have the nerve to try to fight it again. Even if apathy whispers seductive and comfortable narratives to let go.........let it happen......I never had the chance......just give......up.....let ......go.......forget......being......free.....just.......walk in......and......give up.....
That how it gets you. You walk through willingly. You are never dragged through or deceived. You willingly walk in and sit. As close as you can get to suicide without killing yourself. Then it's just a matter or time and you just.....don't........care......
*sighs and feels eyes burn with new tears*
I just started doing that, you know. Crying. I just relearned to cry and not laugh. It's so fucking rare and I don't do it because it's so hard to stop, but it does happen even when I don't want it to. Yet that's there, I actually care somehow to realize this is just fucked up. That I was happy. That I could actually enjoy an accomplishment without any challenge or difficulty. That there no hoops to jump through and they're not on fire. You actually get comfortable and drop defenses that numb you so that you can feel again. And you know you're going to be hit badly if it happens, but you just want to stop being numb and you feel, for a few moments in fucking time you just feel and you don't care what it is as long as you can feel and you don't have to keep use so much energy and effort to protect yourself from things that never....
BAM!
...you stagger and you get that rush of adrenaline and fear. Your actions go into damage control mode and you realize that it happened again. You try to take understand of all of it and you just try not to let the fear paralyze you. You need to get moving and get as much momentum as you can before it can set in and you realize that this is not new and it comes back again and again.
And yet, I'm trying to fight it. I'm trying to fight apathy. I'm trying to not regret that I got hit again, but that I don't want to be on the defensive. I'm trying to do something different. I'm trying to fight apathy and I don't know if I can, but I have to try.
And that's where I am now. I'm just trying to fight apathy and see if I can go back to something else. Not this. I too used to this. I want to know something else, but not this.
No ending. I really don't have one.
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