I woke up this morning to the sound of one of the dogs vomiting outside my bedroom door. I couldn’t really get that upset because she is about as old as water. And her owners just switched the brand of dog food she eats, so I’m sure her stomach is refusing it and not her. So far, despite the uncleanly beginning, I’ve gone through my day in a fairly sane manner, so far. I sent out resumes. I filled in applications. Cooked a fantastic lunch. Went to my old job, for the last time, to pick up my last paycheck. But somewhere in there I made this silly mistake of watching a movie. I was going to watch something dumb with lots of explosions and car chases, but then made the fatal mistake of watching “A Single Man” instead. If you haven’t heard or seen the movie yet you really should. It’s great. It’s more then great. It’s wonderful. And haunting. And moving. And alluring. And heartbreaking. It lingers on you. I’m sure, hours from now, after I’ve gone for my run and came home and showered off and begin to read a book the movie will still be on me. Still be with me. It’s been a long time since something has stayed with me like this. So strongly, so powerfully, so unforgiving about it’s intensity. It reminded me of other things that have stayed on me for so long. Other things that I never got to tell people. Other things that I had to sneak away and hide and tuck out of sight. I decided, four minutes ago, that I too needed to vomit. Like the sound I woke up to, my brain wants to do the same. I want to throw up all that is inside me, all that doesn’t agree with me. A lot of which is saved on this very computer. Things I wrote several weeks ago, months ago, even years ago. So, for the rest of this month, I’m going to post all that I hide most dearly. All that I wanted to tell years ago, but didn’t get to. Everything I choked on, but couldn’t speak out. I’ve been gagging on things I’ve wanted to tell you for years, and now I’m finally going to throw them up. In hopes that not only my stomach, but my mind, will feel better. I never wrote the date on anything, and I don’t think I will post things in a chronological manner, so everything should be taken on its own. Even though it’s almost all connected and interweaved. So, to whoever reads this, you should really rent the movie. And, if you’d like, you can also read all about my past, the past of a single man.
This is so stupid. I know it. The world knows it. Every therapist would agree. This is so stupid. It’s not even funny or entertaining anymore. The rush of excitement and the feel of adventure and romance are completely vanishing. No one cares about this in the right way. Why should they? He lies and messes with everyone. He is twisted, dark, convoluted, tainted, full of an inky rotten blackness; but that is just what is on the outside. It is pathetic, how much time I spend thinking and worrying about him, it is pathetic. Both consciously and unconsciously, it is pathetic. Not even taking into account everything that has happened and been done in the past, the amount of time would still be considered pathetic. Like right now for example, I should be redoing a religion paper. An amazing, gracious opportunity given to me my by religion prof. and I’m writing this instead. Pathetic. Now this means I will probably be awake until some awful hour of the morning typing it and then suffering tomorrow because the lack of energy. Pathetic. I might have pathetic tendencies or behavior, but I myself am not pathetic. Apparently I am outrageously strong and powerful. Not that I am trying to sound conceited or immodest, because that is the farthest thing I want. I don’t even want to believe that I am strong and semi-unbreakable; but if I ever told anyone the whole entire truth of what happened, and if I told it with the emotion that it merits, then that person would realize that I am made out of stone. Or ice. Or that I am some kind of robot or something. Or that I am some kind of super strong hero without powers or a flashy costume. The point of this is to try and give a glimpse into how badly I care for him and how tortured my brain is because of it. A part of me knows that I should leave him alone, not because he is tricky and devious, but because he has caused such strain on my life. Not just me, but a lot of other people who are in my life; and that is unfair. No one important to him has ever been hurt by me or even heard of me. So I acknowledge that I am justified in wanting to erase him out of my life, which I am completely in the right if I chose to do that. But I don’t want to do that. Only God knows why I don’t want to. I believe that I’m still around him and still involved in his life and social circle because I am living truth of what he can do. Plus I am strong enough to handle everything that he throws at me; I’ll keep getting back up. Not like the dog returning to his master to get kicked again, but like the warrior who keeps getting back up to continue the battle. He can’t break me, he’s not strong enough, and I am too strong. One day he will break, and I don’t want him to be alone on that day. From what I can gather, very few people want to be there for him or to try and make him see how distorted he is. The island man has no objections of him giving out pictures of his anatomy to strange older men. The weather pattern is a slut and probably just as much of a head case. The buzz is probably in no position to dish out advice and maybe not even want to shed light onto the situation. Those are the three who he claims to be closest with, hardly a counsel worth trusting. I am not saying that I am the end all of advice and righteous speech, but I know I am a better option. This last round I was a little off, I wasn’t playing with my head entirely in the game; but now I am focused. Me and him are not a good idea unless we are friends. I am too distracted by him when he doesn’t even want to see my face, I could only imagine how my brain would explode if he were actually on my side. Far too much danger in that idea to think about it now, and far too fictional to spend any time on. My time is split between wanting to explain to someone how much he has done to me and how badly I want to not care about him, how I want to just give it up. That is just half of me though, probably less then half, just louder then the other side. The other side wants to sit down and deal with this like an adult, to state the facts and come at it with a mature attitude. He will never do that. He doesn’t like dealing with things that are real or contain too much truth. He needs distractions and drama and conflict to keep him from remembering all that has happened, all the ugliness that has been done to him. I realize that he would want to do that, I understand why he would want to shut it out; but that will only last you so long, and it is not a healthy way of thinking about things. He doesn’t take me seriously and he doesn’t think that I can be trusted or understand him; he is so wrong. I was too. I should have handled myself better in a lot of situations; I should have not been so sarcastic. I should have not gotten frustrated with his insults and smug attitude. I should have been less emotional and come at it with more logic and rationality. But there is no guide book to the safari that I am on, no map to help me navigate the streets I’m walking. Plus, I am young! I think we all get so caught up in what is going on that we never remember to realize just how small amount of time we have been handling this. We were too young when it started and we are still too young to have any idea what to do, but we try and put effort into it. We learn as we go, the rules develop simultaneously with the game. The field in not level and definitely not well lit up, shadows and bumps are everywhere. He hurt me, in a really big kind of way. The kind of way that makes you not realize that you haven’t left your bed in four days or that you left the house in pajamas and without shoes. The stupid big way that makes your eyes glaze over and not see the people or cars in front of you. That was a long time ago. Apparently I hurt him, which is news to me. Also, I meant something to him; brand new news that is also shocking and unbelievable. I never would have guessed that. The jury is still out on whom broke his heart and sent him into the stages, but that is also old. What matters now is that, at the end of everyday I still care about him and his well being. Does anyone around him really care if he offs himself or if he continues down his horrible, self-destructing path of bad decisions and mental blockings?
-he is considering shooting electricity through his body in order to “solve his problem”: do I need to say anything more?
-he takes pictures of his anatomy and then gives them out to people as if it was a business card: lack of self-respect, confidence, morality, dignity
-he is going to Mexico, plans of visiting nude beaches: just an all around bad idea because no good will come of it
-is an alcoholic: he even admitted to it [cont’d in next dash]
-his parents, father for sure, have/had drinking problems: has he come to terms with that, no one knows
-is turning 21, can now legally get shit faced: drunk in bars, leads to drunk in cars, leads to death or being behind bars. Not to mention his judgment on who he goes home with will be impaired and that is extremely dangerous. He’s going to get killed or hurt or catch something unimaginable.
-his memory doesn’t work properly: whether by choice of him or by choice of his brain, it needs to be talked about and worked on
-he has a deadly obsession/unhealthy sexual relationship with “jawline man”: this is bad on all sorts of levels, distraction, drama, maliciousness. It’s got it all
-is willing to do way too much with complete strangers and doesn’t see the danger in that: I think this one also speaks for itself
-he lies, deceives, gossips, starts rumors, creates messes, begins drama, is two faced: it’s all a defense mechanism.
"Looking in the mirror staring back at me isn't so much a face as the expression of a predicament." -George Falconer
No comments:
Post a Comment