March 26, 2014

When I face my vulnerable feelings all alone I have felt so frightened so I built up a defensive wall to hid behind. To the outside world, I may have appeared to be strong and confident, but this is only a façade to cover up my real feelings of vulnerability. I have become so good a pretending to be strong and invulnerable that I even fool myself. And in doing so I have forgotten what my real self was like. The only time I am reminded of my softer feelings is when I experience them in someone else and this reminder is not a welcome one to say the least. It doesn’t feel good – in fact, it is quite painful emotionally. I instantly become angry with the person who reminds me of these feelings. I hate myself for feeling them and hate the other person for having them. I see the ‘real’ me reflected back at me, and I don’t like what I see. These feelings are crippling and cause me to lash out more often than not subconsciously and as I’ve stated before you cannot recover words after they have been spoken, just like a stone after it has been thrown. Yesterday, I realized that ‘I’ am an emotional abuser by every definition. I suffer from multiple emotional/mental disorders from years of alcohol/drug abuse amongst other things, that I am certain will eventually come out in the wash, as they say. I suppose what I am saying is that I want others’ to suffer for the pain that was inflicted upon me. Pain that is so deep I am afraid to confront it and that fear turns into absolute rage. When it has finally built up so much so that I haven’t the ability to hide it any longer I am instantly enraged and whosoever stands in front of me receives a tongue lashing (in so many words). It’s painful to acknowledge that I am who I am for whatever reason, and to see the sadness or confusion in another’s eyes is so much more painful because I know that I have caused it. Underneath my anger, my need to control, my need to blame, my impatience with the intolerance of others' weaknesses is a great deal of pain. Yes, I am afraid to confront that pain. I am afraid what I might encounter. Hell, I'm afraid of it all. If this makes any sense at all to anyone reading my entries then all of my efforts are not lost. I am by no means strong. My defenses are down and I am at my weakest point. I don't know how to carry on from here.

Love and the pursuit of Happiness?

Growing up learning about the 'circle of life' was somewhat horrifying. Looking back it all makes sense. Survival of the 'fittest'. If it's true that only the strong survive because it is their nature and they were nurtured that way, why is it that some suffer more than others' merely struggling to survive. I have witnessed more evil in my lifetime than I care to remember. If I had the choice to chose between being one of the meek as opposed to strong I would chose the latter of the two. It's too stressful putting on a facade so that others' don't know the severity of the pain I live with. It's not so much physical pain (other than the usual aches and pains that come with aging) it's the emotional turmoil that I can't seem to escape. To have someone just hold my hand for once no matter how I lash out and tell me that everything will be okay, would be wonderful however; this world we live in doesn't account for that. It's not socially acceptable or if it is I am not included in that group. I become instantly frustrated when things go awry no matter the cause. I guess I really do make mountains out of molehills. What the fuck for though? Is there a reason that I continuously do this to myself and others'? Why must I constantly feel the need to play the 'victim' or so I've been told. I've tried to move past that and it keeps coming full circle. If I could escape that stereotype even just momentarily the possibilities just might be endless. I've hurt a lot of people in my life including myself. I hear my thoughts and before I know what has happened the daggers have been thrown and just like a stone, I can't recover them. I understand that if I continue living my life full of fear and guilt, mistrust and such that a truly 'healthy' relationship is not within reach. This above all else angers me and causes a train reaction and once the gears have been shifted into high there is no stopping me. That's scary if I must say so myself. How else am I to let go and live in the moment if I am constantly dredging up the past? I want to love and be loved, unconditionally nonetheless. I want happiness, the kind you only read about in story books and such. I don't believe any longer that a 'happily ever after' exists, because it is no longer the 'norm'. I used to hold onto that thought and over the years I have stripped myself of that childish dream... how does one pursue happiness anyway? Is it something we are born with? Is happiness just meant for certain individuals or is it something that is attainable by everyone in every walk of life? Does true happiness even exist? Is happiness another mask we where? Holy shit! I need answers!

March 12, 2014

I find myself with too much time on my hands. Too much time for fleeting thoughts that run ramped in my mind causing me nothing less than absolute grief. Is there something perhaps that I might be missing, perhaps the damn boat? I observe others' and wonder how, with all of life's uncertainties, how are they able to move so freely away from their pasts while I rewind the video blog in my mind over and over again? It has become so painstaking that I no longer want or have a desire to be around others, whether they be like me or not. I hear it coming at me from angles I didn't know existed that I need to be happy, or I want you to be happy. Well how's this? I haven't been happy, truly happy since I was small. I remember those days. Stomping in mud puddles, playing with Match Box cars, and plastic Army men. Climbing trees and scraped knees. Throwing rocks and building forts and making appetizing dishes out of dirt and leaves. Those are the days I want to go back to. It's age discrimination as far as I'm concerned. I don't want to be an adult. I don't want the responsibility that comes with it anymore. I'm tired of working just to pay bills, with nothing left over at the end of the week. Perhaps all of this is just a 'bitch' session. What do I know really?! I'm not living, I'm surviving.