Love's Naloxone Or Taking the Anti-love pill. Part Twenty Three: Don't You Want Somebody to Love

This year marks a decade since I've been celibate.

HA.....I wonder if my High School English teacher would be proud knowing I can finally figure out a topic sentence. Sorry, I'm not in my cups and I have to find the ways to cut to the bone and get to what I want to say. Therapy works and I am a lot more open, but I still find it difficult to talk about heavy topics in our small little gathering. Ok, more like I need to sort out some thoughts to function tomorrow and I haven't been stretching my literary mind as much as I would have liked.

So I'm doing this. Or at least trying. Please have mercy and patience with me, I don't have my old defenses and its hard talking about this. So back to this.

It's now a decade. To say that I don't miss sex would be a lie since this is the most popular question on I get when people outside of WHY. As much as I hate to admit it I am not made of steel and I have the same biological urges that most humans have. And yet as loaded as the question is, I never had an issue with sex. Fucking is not that complicated and its almost easy by the numbers if you can find the willingness to take part in whatever engagement you want. I mean, it's almost as simple as filling out a form and stating what you want, how you want it and how you want it to end.

Sex was never an issue, but contrary to popular belief, I don't like feeling empty. And in my time I come to learn that empty sex is kind of like a protein shake satisfying and has a purpose, but it doesn't fill you up as having something that makes you happy. In truth its never been the function that got me, but how I usually felt afterward. I am a softy. Or old-fashioned. Or to be blunt not lust driven. I learned that when in my young days I've come up with a composite of who I am attracted to and I can state that I have never met her. Everyone who I have had any relations with does not fit the bill enough to say without outliers that I am someone who is more attracted to who you are than what you look like.

I like people. No, I will be honest, I love people. I honestly do, but much like soy, grapes, and milk no matter how much I would adore them, they have a way of making me feel miserable even to the point of death. I tried. Some would say that I was really an optimist who has been torn asunder into a pessimist. An overt attention seeker who has become introverted due to a woman ripping me apart.

Partly true.

I'm kind of tired so I'll just cut to the fucking bone and get on with it.

I don't have the best track record with women. Whoever's theory it is there is much substance there, although the stories are never straight. I'm not gay, bi or poly. If truth be told, I'm rather old-fashioned and like to be committed. I never cheated or played with the hearts of others and I was never down with opp. *Ha....I am old!*

And yet, if I told people what my main issue is, its trust. I don't trust anyone and with my time on with Crazy Doc, I have to say that I am open to being defenseless if I finally know that people can not hurt me. I can be open if I know I won't be torn apart and used. In my time I can say that I have gotten my life out of the jaws of depression and actually discover my life IS livable. A huge change from survival and fighting the Big Black Dog. Crazy Doc even thinks I can deal with being intimate with others and right there and then, I hit the brakes and say no.

But why......why no to that idea...why not be open to being loved and loving back without fear of being .....I don't know....hurt....miserably hurt. Well, I'm kind of there at the crossroads and I wonder why I would or would not. Why I would try and why I would cringe once more and make it a solid twenty years. I mean why would I have an issue with being touched. Why would I have to pull back and not flirt with others or simply take the offers of sex from the happy willing?

.....

If I have to say, I have been the fucking block. I am the block and you all go around me. I may not be as sexually adventurous as most would think, but I don't have much reason anymore. If I can state what my life was all those years ago, it would have to be chaotic. Ever meet those people that are just pure train wreck. I mean, I'm not going to say I traveled the easy path of life, but I will say that I have never been scared of a challenge. It's just now that I am learning that life shouldn't be so hard. That it's not always filled with pain, drive, and adrenaline. I once told a friend that I would never have the white picket fence in my life and its not because I never wanted it. I like the idea of monogamy with joy and happiness and no hint of wretched agony. I would love the idea of sharing the bed with someone who I don't have to worry about hurting me while I sleep. I think that would be nifty.

Just not real. Or at least for me.

Mind you I have done a lot of cleaning house with my mind and I am healthier than before, but some survival actions cannot be undone no matter how I would want them to. To survive as a single father struggling along with so much opposition and miserably few sanctuaries to rest my head I had to give up alot. I am not allowed chaos in my life in the form of a relationship when I have volatile people who need me most. I am not that selfish. That and I learned that just to prevent my children to go without I had to make choices to ensure their happiness and not mine. Is it right? No. But no matter how I want something, they always came first and dad had to be on it even if it means not touching another human being outside of aid and kindness.

Few people have comforted me and usually against why wishes when I was too numb to feel. Nothing more than a tight hug and a whisper that I matter. Never believed it then, but I am trying to believe it now. Either way, it still chokes me up knowing that someone saw how hard it was and understood. Yet, anything more is just.....phantom. I say phantom because it hints that its there, but I know it isn't. There are moments where biology betrays me. I will even say its kind of a welcomed sigh of relief knowing that I am not dead down there and few individuals have aroused me in ways that remind me of my early twenties. I mean that's nice, but a fast heartbeat, flustered speech and a hard-on of steel are not enough.

I met amazing people, but I know that whatever I locked away is still there and even if I feel attracted to someone it doesn't mean anything. I never had an issue getting aroused. I have issues with trust. Much like a tourniquet wound, it doesn't mean that everything is going to be alright. Most of you have tried. You either reached out, set me up *as if I am too stupid to notice*, and even cut to the fucking bone. Yet I can say out of the train wrecks of relationships I have been in, only a miserable few on a hand with spare fingers can count the functional relationships I have had. I'm going on a limb here and say that's not enough.

If anything I have made women despise me in one way or another. Maybe it was them. I'm going to say a lot of it was me, now knowing what I just created boundaries. And yet, can old dogs learn new things and make things better or perhaps my issues are not enough. I am not a believer in the Disney happy ending. That shit is not real and I will go to my grave telling people no one is that loving to work with another persons crazy. Fucking period.

And yet, I have sad haunting moments that happen and all I can do is know they happened and move on. Can Crazy Doc help me here......who knows....can I get things fixed to be functional enough to be happy....*shrugs*.....will I be ok.....I don't know. I honestly don't know. I just know I'm having a hard enough time not dying and trying to rebuild what most of you take for granted.

I'm trying, but even I don't believe I can be happy. Sorry, my track record is just that crappy. My outliers are the best moments of my life and they are hard and bitter still. Hope is too expensive for me and being told people love me is like telling slugs there was life on Mars. Its lost on me and all I will do is not believe and recoil away. I don't even have an idea what I look like or how I am worth attention.
I'm wrestling with the concept of not being in pain and living rather than existing. If anything my curse is living past the age where my legend would be sung and my memory not disparaged by reality.

I would love to be loved, but I don't know what that is without pain. It's nice, but I can not afford fairy tales. Life has taken too much. My body is intuned to numbness or quick reaction to when shit hits fans.

....

I don't have any way ending this to make you feel good.

Sorry.

Looping Elton as one would poke Lions with sticks

I'm not one to wrap myself in nostalgia. It doesn't affect me the way it does others considering mine is usually spiked with some PTSD. It probably why I don't dwell on it for too long. I'm not going to compare it to heroin, but it's that one thing that you wonder how someone can do something to themselves and taking any walk into the past, even happier moments usually calls to some deep need to medicate and numb myself to at least sleep long enough. It's why I never was afraid of sleeping pills and hard liquor to get the job right when my own mind can do so much worse.

At the moment, I think I want the strongest amount of alcohol possible. If I had my pain killer bottle I would swallow at least 5 of various colors and sizes to kill that feeling I now associate with having my heart being ripped apart from the inside. Elton has that hold on me, specifically, Someone save my Life with Goodbye Yellow Brick Road at a close second. Something about Elton that just stabs so deeply inside me that reduces me into a wreck. I'm not showing any outside emotion. My survival instinct will never do that, but I am so close to simply sleeping with the bottle.  I want to medicate badly, but I know better now. I have that secure knowledge where if I ever give into it again I will not come out. It's a death sentence that I happened to dance around, but now being somewhat functional without my ultimate armor, I can not help feel that something like this can put me down for good.

Elton.......Elton is that one seal.....of the worse hells that I have ever faced. That release where I can feel myself fall apart inside as an empty echo of terror radiate inside me. It's what remains of sadness, having it implode to a level that I walk with something that feels like a black hole. Elton gives me that strength to embrace suicidal tendencies and simply break down and then apart until I pull myself together to face another day of being made of stone. Elton says it all. What I can never say nor even reduce myself to; asking for help.

I would never die before I ask for help, but I would kill myself willingly with a smile on face then ask for it and Elton will serenade me gently. It's as if I ripped my own heart out than to have it rip itself and every now and then I have to hold it....to remember why I pulled it out.....why without it I can function. I have to hold it to remember why I got rid of it......and then crumble apart....like now.....

It was not a bad day. It was actually a good one, but.......a phantom ache echoes ever so gently that Elton soothes as any handful of opiates would....that peace of not opening one's eyes....and not caring you're gently crying yourself to sleep. I want that now and I know it. I want it now and knowing how much of a bastard I am I will only play Elton for the 8th time and ache.....instead of swallowing what will soothe me. I can't do that, my painful sobriety placed upon myself. This is my last challenge really. To feel pain.......and, not numb....wait.....

"...and there's one more beer and I don't hear you.......any .....more...."

That's the sound of giving up......that will be my last words.....it had been my last words only to wake up screaming on how I am cursed with my grandfather's fortune to evade death and almost shame it. It's my swan song....it's my easy exit.....sneaking out before I allow the shame to fall upon me....fall of the world finally crushing me and not having the strength to flip it off one more fucking time.....I am stubborn, you just never realized that it was what kept me alive all those years.

No memory is without pain....not for me. It spurned me to blaze ahead with nostalgia burning behind me as one would burn ships set for home to resolve to push forward with no reprieve. I hurt.....I'll admit that now. I have to with all the therapy I've had, I have to say I hurt.....I still do not know how it never killed me or how I never realized I die so long ago. Either way, I punish myself in a way and feel all of it......staying away from what numbs me.....no booze....no pills.....no physical pain to boost my endorphins.

Just feel fucking pain. I'm told it's the first step to healing and a grand certificate to prove life.....pain......ha ha.....I'll be ok....no......I don't know if I will be ok....I'll be alive tomorrow as I am now.....just reconnecting......what......repressed shit.....all the slings and arrows I've absorbed....I don't know....just.....ouch......I'd rather be physically hurt....I know how to heal that, much like the first bruises from a loved one in order to hide what they have done.

They're just scars...and I carry them all.....So....just feel it.......*sigh*

Yea......everything has that tinge of pain....never a happy moment.....never......

I'll be ok.....just wanted to document this.....share with you in my small pocket of time and space that I am not made of stone. I am not strong as steel. That I bleed......a lot and frequently......just where you can see it....It's why Elton say the things I can't say. Ever.......

..........going to sleep now....I will be fine, don't worry....when have I been not functional? I'll be there for you....promise....I will....just not now....not here.....

Now, I am broken and you can not reach me.....I lay broken, pained, and will let sleep take me......and you can't touch me.......ever.......as I want it.....ha ha....ha....ha....ha....as I want it....it's the only thing keeping me....*shrugs* I don't know any ....more.....getting better is either going to kill me or heal me, but it's going to do something.
Good night. Hold those you can and love. Remember those we lost and those you can not reach. ha ha.....listen to me good....I'm sleeping with myself tonight.....I think that's why I love to write....you can't stop me....you can't......reach me....you can't touch me....it's all too late....all of it....it happened and when you get to me....it's gone.....

".......safe in time"

I'll be ok tomorrow.....just wanted to show....I don't know....I'm not made of stone....I may not be human, but I am not stone.....

.....why couldn't I just drink again....oh yea.....ha ha.....healing....fun....

Dismantling the Machine, Part 1: There is no ending

I will never understand therapy or how it works. I'm not saying this as if I do not understand how its supposed to work or how it's carefully formulated. At a certain distance, I admire the process. Much like detective work and behavior assessments, I can respect any form of problem-solving that has any x-factor that will cause the situation to change and alter your very approach to solving the situation. Some of my favorite memories are in a laboratory with a stack of Petri dishes and procedures in mind while hunting down and attempting to look at my anal procedures, calculate how much of my process may be corrupt, and if I gained enough insight in order to realize what tests to continue or repeat. I can appreciate the process.

So while sitting in the cozy room with the stained glass lamp, I sit across someone who has to be at least 20 years my junior as she attempts to gain enough of a foothold to help me. I sit there and I do everything in my ability to do three things: Attempt to give blunt and simple answers, even if I can't, counter my initial reactions that have been honed to a discipline that has protected me for the majority of my life., and most importantly of all, to not over think or analyze anything that she says in order to understand her motives, goals, needs, and possible tactical position. I've spent almost a lifetime dealing with people who have taken advantage of me or at least attempted to. I've learned to deal with them as on would deal with a cold or step into some unknown excrement. In my time, I can say with confidence not founded in ego that I can pull apart any form of interaction with people to the degree when I can guess motive and need from them. In that knowledge and practice, I've allowed people free reign, if only to prove the control and to understand if you give people enough of a chance they will take more than what you are willing to give to them. Much like politics, I've learned to take a proactive position rather than trust the vote of masses who time and time again ponder how things could get this bad, never realizing they can not vote someone in and simply forget the rest. There must always be a high degree of vigilance.

I've teased 19-year-olds who wanted to get enough of a verbal foothold to entertain the idea of having coffee. I've dealt with elders whose assumption of age somehow had wisdom and trust as a given. I've dealt with people who use scarecrows to prove arguements and the intellectually lazy who I have learned to cut the jugular, knowing full well that simply writing as I do will overwhelm their argument because....pfffft....reading....the fuck is that? In my time, I'm going to say I met people who are good and kind and somehow I have enough evidence to assume trust, all the while keeping a monitoring eye on them for their chance to strike. I do get a bit lazy when the friendship continues past a decade, but the eye is on them nevertheless.

Stating all of this, I realize that I have removed emotion from my engagement with people. Treating everyone as coldly calculating as possible, I know I have broken down people to a list of needs and wants that I deemed acceptable and have given myself permission to meet. Somehow I have removed emotion out of the situation so that my prevalent emotions are annoyance, awe, and disappointment. I know there's another emotion somewhere, but I'm not in the mood to look for it. It was hard enough to acknowledge it in the first place. I know I described "poor" emotions, but they are as close to emotions as I get a hold of. I know I mention annoyance, yet do not confuse this with your definition. I had teenagers in my life and that is an annoyance, what I call annoyance is a type or realization that I have to focus attention and time. Nothing aggravating, but more as in working on the next math problem where you have to clear the table and go through the procedures in understanding and analysis.  That level of annoyance.

The fact that I have to pay attention to you is annoying to me. There, I said what I always said.

I can't honestly register it simply because it's difficult to take in. I don't have that relationship with emotion. And yet, if something happens where I lose my tolerance to suffer it I simply stop working, halt being functional, and I become broken. I don't have emotional breakdowns. I break. I stop doing. I can not move on. Whatever was inside me that cause me to keep moving forward and roll with the punches breaks. That happened last year. That's why I know I have to change or die. That's why I know that if I do not take a proactive approach to my own situation, I will not be among you much longer.

And yet, I am more than comfortable to declare that my actions are in no way helpful. My interaction with people is cold, calculative, procedural and distant. It's how I survived. It's how I can plunge my arms, elbow deep, into the shit that most of you dare never to see and get things moving again. I have always worked damage control and I have to do what I needed to do to make things work or survive. It's why I drank to shut my mind off. It was overwhelming and in all truth, it prevented me from making connections with people I DO care about. It was the only way to silence a constant working mind to allow me peace and sleep. It was the only way one can numb to build up enough tolerance to make it through another day, to look up at the ceiling and wonder, "was it worth the effort?"

So, I sit with the Crazy Doc and I try to feel. The entire statement insults me, but oh well. I try to feel. To reconnect. and to reconnect correctly. It's difficult. It's painful. It's almost impossible to me. And yet, I attempt and I fail and I try again and I silence my mind and I do everything I can to rip apart the defenses that I mastered so that I can leave myself open to the person in the small room and silence all of the screams in me so that I can pretend that they will not rip me apart, much like the Jackels do. What I do is painful. What I do is damaging and it can fuck over the rest of my week. And yet, I do it again and again.

And she sees it. And she appreciates it. And she sees that I'm trying with sincerity.

I'm better now. I was mentally sore yesterday. I will be the same next week.

I'm going to end here. Time to go to work and I don't have an ending because it didn't.

1,200 words in 50 minutes.

Shower Epiphany: Trigger moments, Secret Wars, and Why You Bury your Dead

Shower Epiphany

It's been a month since I finished The Phantom Pain.

The game was magnificent. It will always be to me Kojima's greatest work. The game means so much and with it's flaws, it's still a magnificent. I'm going to talk about a few things that came up because of the story, but I really hate to ruin it, so just in case spoilersv and such.

Saying all that.....

.....I think it really hit a nerve. It.....kind of hurt me. It kind of feels like echos of what I lived through. It's ......*deep breath*

.....secret wars....

I'm out. I think I'm out. I would like to think I'm out.

Then again, I do wake up in sweat at night doing what I can to stifle a scream. In the years I've survived, I've able to stifle the scream. I cry tears of fear and joy that I am out, but I'm not. Every now and then I get pulled back into a hell that I somehow survived.

......and the hell was never mine. It was never my fight in the end. I was fought, lost, and survived only to never be my fight. Does it mean anything? Does it mean anything when I lost so much to something that was never mine......

Did I lose so much to nothing? Was it all for nothing? This....hallow remains......for nothing? And those we lost......who haunt me.....who I question even now why they died never knowing it was for nothing.....were they ......lucky?

Sometimes, I belong or I feel that I belong. I think life will get better. That I will move on. Never turn back. Be happy. Live what is left of time I have and feel I have accomplished something.....meaningful. Worth so much. Much more than what I lost. I am almost happy.

And then, I wake up trying not to scream. Then I get a flash of.......horror? Memory? Who ....what I was.....where I was.....if I could go back and stop so much......fuck....Avey.......those hollow moments, a hard look, haunted eyes.......for fucking nothing....ha ha ......nothing......

It reminds me that I am not like you. I will never be like you. I will never be you. The price paid is often times it's own cost.....punishment....Faustian compromise.....haunted.....so haunted....

You hold me shaking. You fill my glass. You listen to small moments of hell. You sit with me while I try to escape. You wish me all the good I've am due. You send words to ponder, introspect, and hold close. You all have been so much to me. I will never be able to thank you ever. If I lived to the end of time I can not thank you enough. You give me the ability to lie....believe I can be......you.

And yet, if there is justice in this world......if there is any way to redeem myself of .......nothing.......I will have to live an eternity against my will. Sometimes.....sometimes death is too good for you. Sometimes you just need to pay your penance. I'm more then willing. Every good dead is redemption for one day to start another.

ha ha......and for it all......what was it all for? Nothing.

Cosmic joke of it all. It was for nothing. I paid my price and I got what I wanted for it.

*sigh*

I know.......I get like this. It's why I go away. It's why I have to go. It's.......heavy. I have to pay....penance for those who can't. For those who are not with us. For those who never learned it was for nothing. Fucking nothing.

I'm fine....no, I'm not fine. I won't be fine for a long while. I'm trying, but I'm not fine. We have to bury our dead. I have to learn to bury mine one day. It's why I tell you to. Because I can't. Because I carry them with me. It's because my hell should mean something to someone even if it's not ever for my benefit.

Penance. Price. Pain.

All the same thing. Always the same thing.

......I'll bury my dead one day. I will. I will rest with them also. Hopefully they will welcome me if there is any sort of afterlife outside of one imagined by those who can not have second chances.

I'll be fine tomorrow. I'll be.......but tonight. I morn them. I morn myself.

For......nothing.

......

Please......be good to each other.

Walking a Line that's Faded at Best

Writing is a difficult thing. Almost hellish.

There are moments that I go without even speaking to people much less putting words on page behind meaning and yet there are moments where almost in a fever pitch I'm able to spew out words with meaning with innuendo with intent to cause some chaotic spark of thought that is outside the daily does of mind numbing crap. 

Being in the middle of the two poles, I find if hard to even keep what I've written here. I'm very sure it's not going to inspire or provoke thought. Yet I know I have a thought within that needs to see the light of day yet somehow the time is wrong, the mood is not there, or I haven't groked it long enough to fully pull out meaning. And yet, considering that I use my writing as means to balance my thoughts it can be....ickish....is there a word for intellectual blue balls?

Blue Mind?

Odd.

Well, as of now I'm once again trying to rebalance my life by trying to fight my weight gain, depression, looking for a full time legitimate line of work, and figuring out how soon I can move out of a place that, from what I'm told a toxic environment. It's all too easy to slump down and simply close your eyes and let....time...slip....by.....

So I get up despite of not having enough sleep. I weigh myself and check my body fat percentage and calculate how many calories and macro nutrients. I log what I eat, how much water I take in, and calculate my run times, caloric expenditure and any other value I can find out of what data I can gather. I look throughout the Internet and attempt to fill in applications, resumes with cover letters and reference lists. I try to take a nap when able, but not enough to lose hours of time, even though it's what I have. I go outside to work out, lift and keep active. If I have time left over I watch youtube as some would watch tv. If there's time to kill I get on a game and kill some hours of time. IF I have a book I read just enough as one would ration water knowing that my library card has been revoke by the kindness of others and getting hold of thought provoking books are rare. I'm always on wiki .

I can imagine that this existence, this limbo is how I would imagine prison yet with more violence or at times much less. Being around volatile people is nerve wracking. A snide comment said by one person can equate to days of hell. One person's outbursts can chain react. My only rule here to others is to not set off the megaton bomb in the room. I have my moments and I have to walk away knowing that toxic places pull you in by means lower then any enemy can pull. I've had good days where I pull away, bad days where I get pulled in and feel ashamed of myself for being foolish, and I have my rare days that kill me knowing that I am better and yet I gave into a chaotic and destructive nature. 

And people wonder why I know how to get away from crazy. People with solid advice have either escaped their hells or are fighting them at the moment. I'm the later. People who negate "no" for any reason. Anyone who makes you feel less then who you are. Any one who gaslight, is verbally or physically abusive when they lack a decent verbal IQ to discuss and even debate. People who emotionally leech, want you to rebuild them making your their monkey wrench only to return to abusive means, anyone who has ever thrown any object towards you. 

Hell. Abuse is hell. It's harder to escape it. There comes a point where your own being will work against you. Self sabotage, fighting low self esteem, trying to keep momentum and remaining positive are all part of it.

......funny......didn't feel like writing at all. Still don't know where it's going either. Still don't know if this will be posted.

Life is tough.......my life is tough. I'm going to try to not to speak in the third person. I'm told when I speak of myself I regress into a monotone and become distant. It's a mechanism from what I'm told is frightening as hell to watch. So....no third person.

*clear throat* My life IS tough. And it's stupid at the same time. I think of it was pulling myself out of quicksand. I know how to do it, I'm learning new methods to do so also, yet it's time consuming, tiring, and from what I'm told one of the hardest things to do. When your very effort works against you and doing nothing is death. I hear many people tell me they love me, they're behind me, that they are in any way willing to help me. I'm here trying not to pull anyone else in while trying to tread myself above. I more then understand that I have to reach a certain people in order to break free of mental shackles that hold be down, yet getting there is hard. I know what should be done. The practise is difficult, painful, and often times meaningless. 

It's why they say that the best support you can give someone depressed is to just sit there, maybe make them into a burrito and just sit there. It's nothing you can do to fix them. You presence can be damaging, but if you just sit and say you understand its the most amazing thing. The person does not need to hide it and they can simply be.

Saying this I have an amazing support network. I have great friends. I've been told that I can equate my value to that of the caliber of my friends. I would like to believe that. Then again I would love to be functional and not be in this situation to start. So I know, but often time I do not understand. 

It's like when I'm told that I've loved. I understand the words. I know the meaning. I more then believe that my closest friends mean the words, that they have meaning. I just don't feel anything. Was it because I've been in so many types of toxic relationships? Can it be that they loved me also and yet that love was painful, harmful, and destructive in their different ways. One person was physically abusive. Other mentally. One negated my own feelings and made me feel used. Others negated the word 'no' and others just took me along their own insanity. I have a type and its crazy, needy, hurtful. I didn't choose it. I didn't want it, but it's a clear pattern. Being celibate now for 9 years I can see that my life is a lot more livable when not in the trunk of a car or stalked.

So....therapy. I'm told people see changes. That I've made immense advancements in the 8 months I've been going. That I am more then willing to tear myself apart and pull whatever poisons me. That I know have a mindset that limits me, imposed by me, and that I will never be happy until I fully dismantle it. It sounds good. As if I can walk over to a pipe and just turn a valve and everything will be kudos. 

How I wish.

How I wish to be normal. I've a boring person really, yet I am a product of my environment. I do not trust easily. I consider my needs least if not important. I question myself more times then anyone else. I'm an introvert, pessimist, sarcastic, and yet I'm told I'm honestly not. I have a 'dark humor' that scares everyone off. I've lived horrors that only those who have cold eyes can recognize and normal people 'can't just even'.

ha ha ha....I was actually told I made someone go on antidepressants because I told them a part of my life.

Part. As in, "I was divorced by 21" part. 

Saying all of this, I try to be positive. I try to be functional. I balance my life and try to gain momentum as a child would learn to walk. I fall alot. I fail alot. I curl up into a ball alot. I don't cry. I don't know how to anymore. Yet, I get back up and try again. 

Why?

Because three years ago I should have taken my life. And yet, time shows that things change. Sometimes you just have to endure fucking hell as hard as it is, yet the moment you get your chance you will jump and run for it even if jump and run is really collapse and drag. Yet that fucking drag.....that pain.....pain is life....you have a fighting chance. Scream it. Yell it. Write it on the walls. Make as much noise as possible. Don't let it drag your down. It will and you should fight. You should make your escape the most explosive moment you can.......because if you don't you pass in silence. You pass in silence and mystery and no one around you will know what you suffered. 

So I screamed. I told everyone. I told those closest to me I was suicidal. I was fighting a fight that I was losing. And they pulled me in. They held me close and told me they loved me, even though I say now I can not feel it. It didn't matter. They came. They came.

I love my friends. One day I'll feel it, but I know I do. I guess I do.

My life is tough. I'm doing what I can to be functional. To be strong, confident, and progressive and proactive. I have my bad days. I have my worse days. I have days that I wonder how will I ever continue from that point. Oddly enough, my life has ended numerous times. And yet, there is tomorrow. Just the promise of tomorrow.....is enough. At least for now, it's more then enough. 

Shit today. Better tomorrow. 

If I have to go, let it take me. I refuse to do it's fucking work. If I'm not meant to wake in the morning then let it take me. I will not make it's job any easier. I refuse to. So today if hard. I'll eat my caloric need and workout. Work on cover letters and job opportunity. Write when I don't feel like it. Roll up into a ball. And start it all over again tomorrow.

Life is tough. My life is tough.

I'm tough too.

The Worst of Betrayals Come from Good Intentions

This is going to be hard.  This is probably going to set me back a bit socially, but I'm told by my Crazy Doc, for now on known as Crazy Doc, that there are points in my life and mind I avoid because of difficulty and not processing from that point or even now have long lasting effects that can hinder and even hurt. So please tolerate me a bit. I'm going to try to cut to the bone, but as many of you know me well some things are actually worse cutting into the bone instead of taking one's time. 

Also I've realize I can only cut to the bone when I'm emotionally isolated and numb. Not a good thing for me, I'm told. So with that I'm going to try to get to the point.

I think if there's a constant in my life it's that I've disappointed alot of people. Throughout my existence I've have not lived according to the ideals of many and even though plenty of people have never stated what I should or should do somehow I was supposed to adhere to this. Mind you, I've had this talk many times with many of you on what you should do if your family demands some antiquated ritual of obedience only to tell you my advice is to disappoint them. If your family ignores your sexual preference and demands marriage of you since it will fix what never was broken, deny them. Not only deny them, but show up with your partner and show them what you are, even if you have to commit sexual public acts in front of the planning so that they get the point.

Disappoint those who have ideals that do not fit your own or you will exist to deny yourself. Mind you, I'm only speaking of the extreme cases of course, yet for some reasons I'm always approached with these situations. Proper families with open channels of expression and communication somehow doesn't deal with this. It's always families in name only that somehow demand acts that does not suit the collective mind or a patriarch/matriarch whim. And yet, the invisible fear of those involved in this type so situation is almost torturous. Seeing someone weighed down by mental shackles of another's creation is probably the worst thing to witness. Seeing them suffer an existence that can be solved by the word no which has no power in their eyes. It's heartbreaking. Realizing that this person has no ownership of their own fate is heartbreaking as much as watching a dog behave on a strap of leather or cloth.

I digressed some, but it serves benefit. The mental shackles must be explained in order to understand. Even when believed torn off they continue to linger and drag us back if we do not understand how to release them much as Jacob Marley understood his plight. Simply overthrowing one oppressive force without removing the deeply ingrained installations only makes it easier for another oppressive force to take reign. I can not state this enough. This is what I'm dealing with.

I'll continue. *takes breath*

There's honestly something mind fuckingly twisted about realizing that the reason you ended up joining a cult was because you wanted a better situation. I realize that now, especially this week. The fact that the only reason a person would willingly join a cult is that the person was already hurt or broken as much as I would like to think of it, but more accurately its because you've already have the means of submission implemented and a greater oppressive force overrides any "loyalty". It's the reason why those abused either continues the cycle by finding another to continue that abuse or they change roles and administer their form of abuse. 

Yea, this months theme has to be mind fucks. The kind of this that you realize was under your nose and you had no idea until you finally see it behind a veil of rage and shock. I've had a few this month and chances are I'm going to be in store for a ton more. 

*takes deeper breath*

I'm not big with betrayal. Probably the stupidest thing I've ever written. Either way I'll start from here considering that I've stared at the screen long enough. Leaving the cult was probably one of the hardest things I've done and yet realizing that I needed to look after my children still in I had to build up a persona of a father that could do no wrong even if I felt like a piece of shit. I've got a job that put me to work for 30 hours, I took classes at the CC nearest work and home, I spent my money on my children and child support, I've taken my children in for months at a time trying to show them what normal was and show them no matter what kind of hell hole they lived in they would always have dad. For that, the ex wife used any and every chance to defame, malign, slander and belittle me. She knew as many others that there would be a time when they would willingly want to live with me. Yet with enough guilt, abuse, and more mind fuckery they were twisted and turned to different ways that no child should live. If they mentioned a woman's name I would soon get a call about about letting my whore near her children. Usually being told that the kind woman is a friend in a committed relationship who treated her children to food or attention when I was not able to for some reason. 

So to say I had to walked on eggshells would be a bit mild. Even those days I had to carefully look over my shoulder and make certain that I didn't make things worse. Child custody and social workers visited, if only to see if the children had a suitable parent. People around me were told in much shame that I was a divorced father at the age of 21, working full time and attending classes whenever possible. I've never banked on the sympathy of others considering I had shit to do and things to accomplish, but many other would converse and much munchausen would be enjoyed. I mean, how else would you explain a failure of a child? How else could you explain such a family disappointment to everyone else? While others were graduating college or starting businesses what else did you have to declare of your own child? I was branded easily as a fuck up. Black sheep. Worthless. Stupid. Someone who betrayed the family and their ideals. Someone who chose "Others" over his own blood. So at the ripe age of 21 I was worthless failure. 

If you know me. If you honestly know who I am, you know I'm a fucking stubborn person. I don't do things if I don't want to and I do things despite of who says not to. This is not natural. This had to be attained. I had to sit down one day realizing how close to suicidal I was for fucking up my life to realize that my death would serve the benefit of so many. Worthless child killed himself? How much pity would you give someone? Enough for a life time? Ex husband dead? Good. Now you can use him as the Goldstein to your Big Bother. How great of a boogyman would I have been to scare off the rest of the family from doing what ever the fuck you wanted? You go ahead, but when you become a failure like that child you will remember and you will cry.

How great is it when your death would benefit everyone else?

How worthless do you have to be that your death would benefit more?

So.....I did the only thing I can do. Tell everyone to fuck off and do things on my own. On my own I worked 30 hours and spent every moment loving my children who was told their father was a traitor to god, them, and the great ones. I took classes on Saturdays and late nights to rebuild my education. I started in remedial math and worked up to Calculus. I started in general elective science and became a tutor to those who could not understand and who didn't want to be insulted by those that somehow have it easier. I've got into Cal State on my own. I worked out my 125lb tuberculosis frame of a body into a decent 190 lbs by going to the gym from 2 am to 4 am. I've tried to rebuild friendships while enduring the fears of society, the end of the world, and everything sinister and evil that the cult said. I slowly used science to counteract my beliefs. I questioned my sexuality, identity, and being and realized every one must even if they identify as I do. I've endured the insults, slings, back talk of others until I could out debate, reason, and analyze others. 

I built my weak frame up via martial arts so that my words could not be negated by threat or bullying. I could already take a hit, but I would learn to take it, defend against it, prevent it, negate it, and counter. I would no longer be hit or beaten. I would build my body up to be a preventive measure. I would be the one who made others walk across the street or made other move aside on the sidewalk. I pounded and struck stone, wood, flesh, bone learning to break others. I would focus my rage into my own masochistic measures. I would endure the physical hell as well as the mental. I would take the hits so others would not. I would be kind above all, yet install fear into the eyes of whoever I wished. 

In all this I wanted only one thing; a better life for my children. I was not a factor. My happiness was not important and no matter how difficult it was I always tried to make their lives better. Make their hurt less. Offer sanctuary to them despite of what hell they lived. I would do so to many others. I would offer a kind word, inspiration, love to everyone I met. I would listen and offer advice gained from blood and work. I would offer aid and support whenever needed. If I was going to cross the finish line, I would drag other with me. We will all make it. We will all endure and make right what wrong has been given to us. That is what I wanted. I wanted people not to suffer what I endured. Ever. I would not allow it. I have the scars to prove it.

And yet in my time, I had learned that just because you help someone they do not help you. Just because they cheer you does not mean they want you to succeed. Simply because they resemble you, think as you do, or share your blood does not account them to be as or even close to near supportive. Being everyone's hero leaves you open to their hell. People often need something and see you as the best means. Their ails become your barbs. I can say that most of the people I've met never meant to tear me apart, but an apology, if any, has no worth is the damage has been done. 

I'm not big with betrayal. I can say this now without it being stupid. I've endured enough to become smart enough to recognize an abusive relationship. I've cut more ties then some have ever made. I've pulled from numerous places how to see someone coming and know what they want. I've cut myself off from people, endured their form of wrath and moved on. Always moving on. I can say that at this point outside of family, I've cut every bit of abusive people known. I say known since I'm never sure. Yet I can almost see it now. There's always going to be someone throwing stones. And you can endure it with grace and love and let it not change you or you can let it change you.

Guess which one I am?

After a point it doesn't matter. An act of kindness on your part is a come on. A pleasant conversation is a guilt trip. A good morning have double entendre. A smile means so much except for what you want it to mean. So you stop. You continue on and cut people. I don't smile because I don't want to or need to. It's something I might do involuntary, but not a habit I endure unless I lose myself with those I trust. A handful really. Even that I have means of cutting them out. My closet friend now have been in my life for 16 years and I know there is something in me that will cut him out. Something ingrained. The only reason we are still friends is that he know better. Not I, he.

Mind fuck.......things are mind fucks. The moment when you get a glance of something you've always seen in an angle you may have glanced over and it hits you. Or that story where evidence has been in the room, you are the cause of the ruin of multiple lives, you were the medic, you opened the box, your enemy is your father, everything is a manifestation of your guilt and shameful lust, you were always dead. Mind fucks. 

It was always me. I was always trying to push on. I was always moving forward even if I had to crawl or bide my time until I could run. I could trust no one at times and those moments I had to cheer myself on. It's funny when you were considered worthless. It's only your voice leading you on. It's you late at night reminding you why you're doing any of this. Why to keep driving forward even at a death march pace. Why you're doing things. You keep telling yourself to keep going if only to deafen the voices of others. You have to push forward. You have to endure. You have to commit the greater good. If you work hard enough people will file in and help. If you ever pushed a car down the street you know that people will help you if only to see you work less or just to say that they helped someone pushing something bigger then themselves. 

Betrayal happens. It naturally happens when others do not have a control over you or want to make you endure some hell they seem justified. Sometimes it's not even because of you. Just as some will help to say they helped some simply need to pull others down for the sake of pulling them down. Their reasons are usually sad in nature and yet cruel in implementation and usually best addressed as "shitty people are made of shit", the betrayal that hurts the most is always from someone you hold close to. Some one you protect and care for only to have them lash out at you. Sometimes out of pain or fear, but when the lashings are frequent if you have any instinct for survival you'd remove them from you. Once again, betrayal does not care if it was deliberate nor accidental. Damage is damage and any redemption comes from enthusiastic correction and penance on their part. Sometimes you see it coming and know the best is to let them strike and make them think they hurt you. Other times you cut ties and look over shoulders to ensure they do not find you. Other moments their acts are well hidden and can continue to harm you year after they have been removed.

As I mentioned, I've removed the remnants of those who slings were aimed at me outside of family. This week I had a close look at those who remain. Those who cut the deepest and cruelest that still remains. And it angered me. I could not understand why their voices were always the loudest. Why they cut deepest. I saw them as they are, flawed individuals who have difficulty stating their emotions in a healthy manner. They may care for me and they may not. They may know what they are doing or do so out of reaction or folly. As I said before, it doesn't matter until it's mended. Yet seeing them as they are angered me. How are flawed people in control over my well being. How can they affect me.

Crazy Doc: They can only affect you because you allow them.
Me: How is that? I don't want them to. If I don't want them to then they can't. Why isn't this working?
CD: They can because you allow them. You are not only allowing them, but you helping them.
Me: No, how the hell can I help those I do not want to hurt me?
CD: You're the one echoing their them. You're the one who tell yourself that it matters. You have taken up their argument as your own.
Me: No, that's not true. If anything I've against them. Their criticisms. I've used it as a goal to work against.
CD: You may have don't that, but you are echoing it all the same. You give it merit. You make it true instead of negating it. You made them real. You give them worth and you gave it power to lord over you even if you work against them. You made them stronger. You're working against yourself even if you're working against them.
Me: ......no.......wait....no......I ......no
CD: You are working against yourself by making their arguments real. You never had to make them valid, but you have and they're forcing you to push on.
Me:.........but I'm tired......I'm so tired trying to not be....why am I doing this then?
CD: You said it yourself. You work against opposition. You've always have. If anything it proves how resilient you are. How you endure. Now you're fighting against yourself and you know your weaknesses all too well. It's an unfair advantage you've given yourself to fight yourself so that you have opposition to fight against.

"He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee." ~Nietzsche 

Me: ....wait.....no....that's not right....I....

*silent for 10 minutes*

CD: Are you ok?
Me: *mixture of rage and hurt* I should be on my team......I have no one.....I had no one.....I should at least be on my team....why am I fighting myself.....I'm hell on things...I'm losing to myself.....
CD: You have great friends who are your family support. You have numerous people who care for you....
Me: It's not that......it was just me in the beginning.....just me.....everyone was against me or said I was a failure.....I only had me and I was not enough. I had to grow into everything....I had to be my own shield ....I had to against it all.....no one believed in me......I only had me and now......I'm .....fighting me?
CD: I know......but know you know. Know you know and you're able to change all that. 
Me: I'm hell on things......I am.....stubborn....and hard.....and I fight like hell.....I know what I've done and what I can do....and I'm ....the one.....WHY AM I FUCKING FIGHTING ME? I've been against me even when I wasn't.......fuck me....I have no one.
CD: What do you feel?
*five minutes before I could answer, most of it in silence*
Me:.......betrayal. I feel betrayed. 

"To fight and conquer in all our battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting." ~Sun Tzu

CD: I know. Yet you understand now?
Me: *nods*
CD: Now that you see yourself against yourself, you can stop.
Me: I'm already double thinking what I do and say. How long.....how must I....can I not fight myself.....because I'll never win.
CD: I'm happy you see that.
Me: I know better. I'm hell on anything......I'm the only thing stopping me.....I'm the only thing stopping me.....I'm stopping me.....I'm.....stopping me.....fuck me.....I'm literally stopping me.
CD: Better?
Me: No.....I want to hurt myself.......I want to tear myself into pieces and I know that's the last thing I should ever do.....it's maddening......it's....insane...am I insane? I think I'm insane....
CD: No. The only insanity was that you endured this for so long.
Me:.......yea.....I have.....
CD: Better? 
Me: No, but I'll get there......
CD: Good. We'll start that next week.

"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win." ~ King

Fuck me.

The only way I've ever lost was because I took myself down.

Mind                 Fuck..............

How do you continue after that?

How do you live knowing you were against yourself in the first place and you were winning.

I mean....how.......I'm asking you......how?

..........because I don't know.........

.......I don't know. I don't know where to go from here......

Torn Down

I feel a little overexposed today. Almost as if the walls I built up decades ago have been ripped down leaving me exposed. And yet, I am not too worried. I know I'm going to have to put them up in time and I'm seriously questioning why and how safe I have to feel to go outside and deal with the world and yet I know two things for certain. One, I feel lighter. Almost worry free as if I can actually walk out and not have to be three to four steps ahead anymore. Maybe just two. And two, I came back home late, ate a bit and passed out into dreamless sleep. Sleep that I rarely have and mostly cherish.

The only drawback is that for once in my life I think I want to be near people. I think I want to be close. I think I want to be touched. And I think I want to be held. Not a desire, but more of a need such as eating to eat instead of for pleasure. This is how I feel and in truth it frightens me and it is making me feel I need others around me, something that I don't subscribe to for numerous reasons of my own.

So I'm staying in today. I'm going to reflect and grok this new feeling of vulnerability just for a small while until I can deal with it functionally or until heavy shit comes my way and forces me to go back to survival mode and go back on damage control.

And I think that's what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid that I will be people again and never have to be defensive. Or worse off, I'm actually terrified that I'm going to have to build it back up and stronger to continue to exist in this harsh world. Mind you, I'm not depressed, this is just "the cost we have chosen to pay to see tomorrow". "Secret wars" are over, but their scars run deep.

So.......yea.

Peace and love to you.

.....love you all.

December

December is a hard month for me.

It's a month filled with so much bad history. Most of the shit that has hit me the worse has come from December. It's a month that claimed the lives of several mentors as well as taken the lives of a few friends. It's a month that I had my worst moments in life and the echos never seem to diminish. It's a month where ghosts of my past become stronger and they have their moments until I am able to survive till January. It's a time where my survivor's guilt is heavy and I question the thoughts once more that plague me randomly and I try to find what is it that has changed. I now realize that all my good deeds I attempt to do and all the love and kindness I give is used to help me this month. It helps me convince myself that I am making a change in myself and in anyone I meet. That in the end there will be people who will out shout the people who will condemn me for something I was, I try never to be, and what I work so hard to make amends to.

Or perhaps that is all in my head?

It's a month where everyone you meet feign concern, love, peace and kindness in the approved manner of giving gifts that have cost them much to people they have very little concern for. It's a month where everyone places a farce of caring and giving while the rest of the year is spent taking away and "getting mine". It's a time where hypocrisy is thick and I'm simply not the right person to fake anything I do not have simply because it will ruin a fabricated and highly staged moment with people who honestly have not kindness and warm regards towards myself or others. As if some unspoken rule that states that one must speak of the dead with kindness and love instead of stating what they had built with their hands in the same manner I'm supposed to wish someone well for hell they had wroth the rest of the year.

Sorry, I am not able to lie very well nor do I want to learn how to correct that. So I'm simply not on for the hypocrisy. I am not happy this time nor do I carry great hopes. I may seem normal, but I am not one to suffer in public not in open. I shout for those who have no voice, not to complain for what ails me since I know too well others have suffered more and seem to move on well. And yet, not I. Why do I always return here? Why am I hardest on myself and why do not ask for sympathy nor kindness this month.

....


I thank you for your kindness. I honestly do. I simply can not break down as you would expect because I am always carrying weight that must be held up. I appreciate the distraction and the ability to mayhaps laugh as if I'm fine for the moment. It's a hard month and I do what I can to survive it. Thank you for caring and thank you for pulling me in when I struggle to be let go. I'm not doing well and that is all me. Not a reflection of the kind and loving people who try to reach me. I have a horrible feeling that I will affect you with the hell that I am afflicted with and that would horrify me, so I do not reach out to you. I simply suffer through in silence and call it my penance.

And yet I will ask for help in the meekest voice hoping you do not hear so that I can know that I at least tried in a manner that I can say was an attempt.......a horrible one that is more of an excuse, but I count it anyways.

I'm trying. I really am. I want you to know that. I have good days and I have bad ones. Every day is a battle. I just try to do good, be kind, and love as much as I am able to while keeping my distance. I'm not asking for help. I'm simply explaining myself if you seem me particularly distant and cold. It's never you. It's all in my head. My circle helps. Alot.

Ok......I have to find motivation to move. I'll talk to you later.

Promise.

If we can steal a moment to have a small talk?

I'm going to say a few things here.

I'm going to say a few things here since in all honesty I am hoping that you are reading this. Yes, I mean you. I had made a list of people who I honestly want to read this because the comes a time when we must make a parting of ways and we need to hit that one moment where we test our metal, do our acid test, and see what is and what is not. I am writing to you because I want to speak to you about this week and how everything seem to have reach one point in my life where no matter what everything has come to a single point of meaning. A single moment where everything that I am of worth has been tabulated to a small series of information that I honestly feel I need to say for fear of never taking another breath. 

What I am saying to you is that there is a change in everything and it's completely different from the other points in my life where life has taken a sharp turn and had forced me to end a life and to begin a new one. I say this as a man who has lived lived roles that at that moment seemed to not only be endless, but seem to have dictate who I was and what purpose I served. For all this I can say that this moment is completely different since situation dictated action just as a fire would dictate you leaving for your own safety or you fall within the walls of flames and end you point then and there. 

Here it's completely the opposite. Here my long analyzed and long pondered action has arrived at situation. I have arrived at a point where within the confine of time and space, I have finally realized that I've answered the question that has caused me me to search and question the root of the universe to the tips of my fingers as I wonder who I am and what value I am to you.

You have been there, some of you I've asked this question to in a point where I first lost control of my life and I wanted to know if my continued existence made any value of change in the lives who I've felt have made in mine. There is the moment where I realize that I have lost grip on what I considered as real and what I perceived as reality. and only a matter of minutes I've come to the conclusion where my question has already been answered without any answer provided by you or any answer you can provide. I have in truth, awakened to a moment where I've come to realize that I have been asleep in a final aspect and come to realize that all my efforts have bore fruit. Here I've come to realize that not only have my desperate act of change that has taken place with the death of another mentor, but in truth has freed me in a manner of speech. 

And so, I'm going to tell you how it all made sense of me and simply hope that words do not fail me as well as my mind loosens to the noose that binds me from baring my soul to you in an act of openness and trust. A moment of trust that is not only rare for me, but I've finally realize that nothing.....nothing at all can hurt me. I want to share with you what I have accomplished, what I struggle, and what I eye as my final windmills before I can say I am whole and one.

1. I love you. With my very being. I have always loved you before I have ever met you. I have loved you in a way that I see you and see the perfection in humanity's promise and how the magnificence of our struggle in such a small moment of time leads us to err, struggle and to commit folly. I love you for your weaknesses, flaws, and inability to understand. I love you simply because we are all attempting to find what makes us Us and in some matter of time we have been given we desperately attempt to make things what we can do and hope it's best. And so I love you for not who you are only, but who you are attempting to become even if you can not achieve it. I don't care, I love you. Some I have physically loved, others I have shown affection and those of you I will never meet, but want you to know you are loved by me and no matter where you go or what may become of you, I love you and I will never stop loving you. This is who I am. It's who I am in nature and it's what was robbed from me by those who sadly beg my forgiveness time and time again never knowing that I can not forgive anyone who can not forgive themselves and that I do not hold any such remedy within me. I can only love you even if it hurts me. That is not my lot in life. I can only love you or love you at a safe distance. You are going to be loved. The only difference is that I am going to attempt to survive your interaction. It's my nature to love unconditionally. Not to be safe. 

2. Understanding that I love you, I've also come to an understanding. I can not love you if I am biased and I have been due to the act of maturing. In my time alive I have not only gained a bias, but I come to realize that I have gained this bias that is not mine and never was mine. Throughout my time, I've developed the ability to absorb the fears and worries in my life that were not my own and that many times of others. These worries have not only burdened me but have forced me to question that I can not follow my nature at the same time carry biases that is not my own. I had spent 10 years tracing them and discovered that I have pulled these fears from others who in their own fear had given me their worries and their anxiety where I could not understand where someone would hurt me, or betray me, or even take an action that has never happened nor did I ever understand was not my own until now.In the matter or a few months I've realized that I have limited my fears to what are now my own and have shrugged off what isn't my own. I now wrestle with what is mine and I have walked away from the others as one would drop an unimportant item from their tightly gripped hands. And so I will share with you my fears:

• I fear not being loved, but in truth it's not right. I fear not having my love accepted. I now understand that if I give love freely it isn't mattered if it is not accepted nor returned. I only wish to commit acts of love and kindness that shows that I give the best of who I am willingly, shamelessly, and without fear of reprisal nor appraised value. I do have my moment where I will receded within and hide, but sooner or later I will build my strength to simply give. I will not care who accepts nor I ever take account to it. I will give and give as much as possible until I am not able to again. 
• I feared that I lacked something within me to make me brave. I am for many reasons scared and yet it has take me years to discover that this fear is not only my own, but fostered by those who live within their own fear and have given all rights to it. No see that people are ruled prominently by some fear and they will not let it go for what ever imagined worse case that holds them hostage. Their actions and thoughts revolve around this until I realize that I can not declare their freedom as much as blind can not see their own blindness for what it is, a small limitation. I do not want to be ruled by my fear nor allow those who do living within their confides to make this fear worse. So I acknowledge my fear and will fight it. There will be days I shall triumph and I shall bask in the glory of overcoming difficulty. There will also be days I an forced back from any progress and I will simply bolster my attempts once more and rally my efforts once more. I am not brave all the time, but I am stubborn and I refuse to be ruled by anything and anyone, despite how I may see it or not.
• I fear how I am because I have a low sense of value to my person. As great as it is to be humbled, if I do not learn to bask in the sun I will never teach others to do so either. It's something that makes me know that I am ugly, stupid, slow, lazy, and simply not worth the time of others. And yet, I've learned from fact and lesson that the value of something is dropped only to manipulate it and to take full hold of it's inner value in order to control it for their whims. SO, I shall never be worth more than what I am, but I am also going to value myself for who I am since I know that I carry those around me who have much to gain for me continuing to believe in my lesser being. This has to end if only to show others that everyone is worth the trouble and effort. Even me.
• I fear that I will fail others and disappoint them. I've learned wrongfully that I am only valued by what I can do for others. And as much as I love to give, I am in no way happy with being used. I am in now way joyed for being used as a whore , or item, or shown as disposable. I will raise those up and above me for an ideal that greatness means raising other above myself, yet I now refuse to carry anyone else's banners and fight in their frays. I will back someone up. I will rally them and assist them in what they need, but I am not their savior nor would want to be. I will help whoever asks me, but the moment I feel that I am a laborer rather than a companion, then I am out. 
• I have trust issues. I have been fucked over many times and left for dead. Literally. I have been hurt and mistreated and only now I realize that I have issues with trust. Not just because I don't offer it, but because when I do in the end I am the one left alone and left unguarded. I look after others more than they have ever looked after me. I am shy, recluse and distant because it. I have been hurt in every way. I had shared stories that made others cry and in truth I never tell because they simply stop seeing me as someone who needs a bit of kindness and love and someone who is broken, garbage, not worth the trouble. And yet there are others who dive from so far to pick me up to be near them. There are those who beg me to go to them to see them once more. I have people who search me out, ask for forgiveness, and even those who have realized that I WAS the best thing in their life. I don't toot horns nor do I brag, but I have been good for many people just as some of you have been wonderful to me. And I struggle to trust, but sadly I can not. So my only solution is the trust fall paradox. I will simply fall and know I will fall hard. I will brace for my mistreatment and hurt. *sad smile* I will know when I'm getting fucked over and still walk through it if only to provide a lesson for a future time. I will cry my eyes out. And yes, I do. Just not in visible light. And I will move on. And sadly one day people will seek me out and ask for forgiveness or they will not. It does not matter. I just know they realize that I am more reasonable that I look, I do not yell or harm others, and I only want to work at something to make it stronger even if the solution is to say good bye. And yet, I know it's only a matter of time because it will happen to me. It's my only way I can mimic trust and know people I love will hurt me. It's just how it is and it will always be that way.
• Lastly, I'm afraid to be alone and I fear isolation. I have always been the odd one out and am comfortable, but I have been isolated from so many for many reasons that I simply isolate myself than to deal with the issue of being toss aside. You can not throw away what is already trashed. And so, I have to treat my time as valuable as it is and more. I am not going to put myself out there simply because I care for someone more than they will ever care for me or even value my effort. Those days are over. I have also realize that I will change any monetary fee for my time, not because my time is worth money, but because people do not understand that I see my time and my time with them as precious and if no one realize it I will take that monetary payment from them or simply no allow my time to be squandered. As I said, I love you, but I am not going to be abused for it. I will simply love you from a safer distance. 

3. I acknowledge that there is no set in how things must be done and every person has their own experience and understanding on how they see moment in life. I know that now, yet I hope never to force my own experience as dogma as well as hope other's do not do so either. As much as I appreciate dialogue and exchange of ideas I refuse to be told what is right and what is wrong as well as what I can and can not do. That ends now and is never going to happen. I love you all, but no one tells me what to do. You can challenge my thoughts and sway my idea on way or anther, but if you assume that you have the solution and there is not means of a different answer or means of arriving at the same conclusion then I apologize for wasting you time and I shall be on my way, once again, to a safe distance.

4. In understanding all that had transpired and how my life had changed with a new clarity of what I worked so hard to make things right I understand that now is the moment. I act now and say what is on my mind now. I may take time to reflect, but if I tell you something that you can not accept that is not on me, especially if I had spent the matter of time to ponder my action, motive, worth, my hopes, my meaning and purpose, and my goal to say what I say. If I say something from now on I will simply say it and move on. If others can not deal with my response it's not on me. I do not say things to harm others nor would I want to manipulate them to abuse nor to gain some favor while causing harm. If any such results may happen I always apologize and I always attempt to right what wrong that is committed. I have already shown many around me that I do not act to hurt nor abuse others and it's not my nature to do so. So I am already on my own case. IF you have issue then I apologize and will suggest that you deal with your own reactions and reasoning for assuming I would do you harm. Sorry, I know there is asshole and know first hand that they have hurt me in ways that I attempt to move on and do with is able to be done. I am not them. I don't want to hurt anyone and I would rather leave anyone's presence than to be placed as a threat or harming factor.  Perhaps one day you can realize that I mean no harm. I'm not going to hold any breath not any hurt feelings for anyone thinking so. I want to love others and give the best of me and move on. I'm not waiting on anyone. Time is limited and I realize now that I could have been at this point in my life rather than the hellish existence I had lived before. 

5. I want you to ask yourself a question. I want you to ask it if I never mentioned it to you or ponder it once more if I already said it to you because it still stands. The question is, why are we friends? I want an answer. Maybe not here, but I want to know. Why is this?  Why do I attempt to fight the world for when it takes me so far away from you only to struggle back near you once more. Why are we friends? What do I offer you? Is there anything I offer you? Is that unique? Is it valuable? Do you have that with others? Why is it important? Why am I asking you this? Why would I ever ask you this? Why do you think I want you to think on this? Why would I take the time and mention it in the first place? Why? 

....just a few questions I ask every moment when we are or are not near. OR if I never met you what I will question myself on. I do it. Can you?

And so I am going to say that is that and turn in. I hope this settles some things and help you understand that I have spent the last 9 months now not only trying to understand why I should be alive, but in truth why I should not take my life.

And now a loaded question, did you know I was going to take my life this year?

......

So, yes. I've been fighting for my life. Some years now, but especially now. I've come to realize that if I do not take some action I am not going to exist anymore. So.....what did I have to lose outside of the desire to live? So I put everything up to ante and I wanted to know why I wanted to live. I answered those hard questions and I realize that I didn't want to live like I have been and so, with the help of friends who didn't know my means and motives I fought for my life and......I'm doing better. I have hard days. I have easy ones. I have days where my fears are rampant and I have days where nothing pulls me down. I have moments where I lay and wonder where I made my mistakes and I have moments that I have to scream from the mountain tops and I arrive at an easy answer. 

Regardless if I do live or die, I refuse to go quiet. I'm not going down silent. I am going to scream all the way down and see who pulls me back out. And few of you who were or were not paying attention grabbed on. 

Thank you.

So.....yea.

Thank you.

I would have left, just like others without you even wondering why I left or much less why I left.

But I'm just one who was pulled back.

And so just to drive home the point.

Do you know anyone one else is planning the same?

How do you know?

Do you really?

Just a parting thought. You honestly think you have time. Live for now and remind others how you feel. All we have left in the world in our worse are our memories.

Good night. 

I love you.