Of course I wasn’t planning on posting a second time today… in fact I hadn’t planned on being awake at five in the morning either…. But I suppose everything happens for a reason even when I don’t know what the reason might be.
The sad thing is, I should have another therapy session today if everything goes as planned and I was afraid too much time had passed since my “little meltdown” for me to be able to talk about it… guess that isn’t going to be as much of a problem as I thought. Ever since it happened, I have felt a measure of distance from the feelings which had been giving me problems. I accounted it to having been able to release some of the pressure, to forcing myself to admit I have come too far, changed too much to ever return to being the truth denying self hater I once was. Well, I guess I was wrong.
I have been moving through an emotional fog, not really connected with my feelings. I have had more than a little trouble getting my mind back into the right place… some days it seems as if things are happening to someone else and I’m just observing. Maybe I shouldn’t admit it, but it has been sort of nice not having to deal with all the damn questions and emotions. To just glide through the day as if everything is fine and I’m not some inside out freak of nature…. Yeah, I said it. I feel like I am some kind of strange specimen who should be locked away in a place with padded walls and nice men in white suits.
Seriously, why is it one comment, one stupid fucking comment should have me sitting here shaking, wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and the only thing stopping me is the fact I am in a house full of sleeping people? One comment that wasn’t meant to upset me, was just someone trying to be encouraging… and here I am going off on a rant….
Here’s something I don’t think I’ve admitted before, I use to do a lot of things to harm myself. I went out of my way to get injured, a cut here, a sprained this, a broken that. I always accounted it to my temper, which could be terrible at times, but now I wonder… I have broken the bones in my hands punching walls, I have cut myself with a knife. I have reveled in having physical scars, even tried to make sure even small injuries didn’t heal properly. I have done damage to my muscles and nerves. Now I find I want to do it again…. God, I want to punch something so badly.I want to make myself hurt…
You know one of the reasons I wanted to die? Because I’m convinced I am destined for Hell and I figure there’s no reason to wait. I have felt, since the time I was little, that I deserved eternal punishment even when I couldn’t have listed one sin I had committed. I felt as if God had turned His back on me and I was doomed from the start.
I knew, even as a child why my parents didn’t love me… because I didn’t deserve it. I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t what they wanted. I was nothing but trouble looking for place to happen. I was damaged goods and there wasn’t a return policy.
Now look at me…. I have proven them right in ways they never dreamed. When my mother found out A and I were going to have our first child she looked me right in the face and told me “I don’t think you’ll make a good Father.” Now I see that she was right… I’m not a good Father, hell, I’m not really a Father at all, am I? No, I’m just some posier who is going to ruin these kids lives because I am what they thought…. DAMAGED GOODS.
I have made sure A’s life is going to be a mess no matter what happens. Even if I never take another step down this damnable rabbit hole, I have assured she will never be able to see herself as being married to man. We both know better. I’m sure that had to make her question herself countless times, wondering at her own ability to judge someone. She has had to wonder just what the hell she was thinking when she agreed to marry me in the first place and I am also sure, if she could go back and do it all again, she sure as hell wouldn’t have met me in the first place.
So help me, if I thought for one moment it would do any good, I would finish what I started all those years ago and saved a lot of people a lot of heartache.
Yeah, I’m being self indulgent here, I’m a one woman pity party and you know what? Right now I just don’t care. I’ll admit that at this moment I hate myself beyond words. I hate myself.. hate… Hate… HATE.
I’m not going to ask, why me? because I know there isn’t going to be a better answer than I got from a teacher when I scribbled that question on a paper in high school… “Why not?”
Why not indeed. The universe has already pulled it’s biggest joke on me and now it can just sit back and watch the fun.
I’m stuck with a totally fucked up brain in a body which drives me insane more often than I would like to admit. I know there are people who wonder at why I don’t just give up and go full time….
Because I just can’t bring myself to doing something I see as completely selfish. I could never live with myself, and I sure as hell couldn’t be happy knowing what I had done.
Yes, If I could turn back the hands of time and go back to being that child looking in the mirror and seeing my true self for the first time, if I could go back and begin my life from that point being in real life who I would become in my dreams and fantasies, I would do so in a heartbeat and never look back. I would do it even if meant my life. I would do it not matter what the cost because I now now all too well just what doing otherwise has cost me and people who never should have been involved in this fucking mess to begin with.
You know, I have lost count of the times my mind has gone back and thought of what life might have been like if I could have come out sooner? If I could have just quit being such a coward and been honest with myself when I was in my teens or twenties?
Yep, I know, more pointless bullshit. I can’t go back. I cannot undo what is done. I need to get my head out of my ass and get on with living in the now, right? I have told myself the same thing a hundred thousand times and more. I wake up chanting it to myself.n But I still think these things, I still wonder, wish, hope, dream…
And I still find myself right here…
Time and again, telling myself this is the life I chose. This is the bed I made and I had better get use to sleeping in it. I tell myself I am where I am because this is where I am suppose to be. I tell myself I can handle whatever comes up, in the world or in my head. I can do this because I have no choice. Though I do have a choice of course, there is always a choice weather we want to see it, or not, want to take the path offered.
I know I could just walk away, I could decide I had to live a life I have only thought about or I could pull the plug and take all the other choices away. In the end it is up to me isn’t it?
Okay, I’m going to end this here. I could go on, but I think I have said too much already.