I never looked at writing as a means of release. In fact, in my earlier youth, I avoided it because I didn’t care to confront what I was feeling...it was easier to crush up some Xanax and pop open a bottle of wine. Then somewhere along the shitty road of blacked out evenings, ripping shit off the wall, and fucking my face up on storm drain concrete I had this reckoning that all I had been doing was literally destroying everything and the relationships around me. My new partner had done his fair share of rescuing me..he was tired of it and left...I don’t blame him..it actually scared me so much I stopped..not just like that..I’d still take Xanax and get shitty as hell when I wasn’t with him..but he came back and encouraged me to do better not for him but for myself. He thought I owed myself more and he was right..I got a bike and through riding found solace for whatever the fuck was plaguing my emotions.
- To be honest, as weak as it is, I couldn’t tell you what had made me so emotionally distraught in that time. If I had to guess it was probably my inability to communicate exactly what I was feeling..a lot of self doubt, and the feeling that I wasn’t good enough for this person who had been putting forth so much effort. I just felt shitty and I made sure every around me knew and that they could feel it. -
Then came yoga and, shit, my world was different..I was young..didn’t need to work all the time so I practiced and rode my bike until my legs shook and I couldn’t breathe. In yoga you do a lot of self study and a lot of reflecting..written reflection is the best form because you're forced to spit it on on paper..you see the words and you know the truth. I confronted things that haunted me from childhood to all the girls that came around my partner..I felt different. I felt calm, patient, understanding..I didn’t just feel those way, I was those ways. I was different and in the best way. I gave love and accepted it and as I flourished so did my relationship with my partner, family, and friends. I felt as ease.
Still, being in that state didn’t help my partner. And as he approached his 25th year concerns of living unfulfilled plagued him..it was a month of hell before we broke up. When I say hell, I mean pure sadness...it was weird..looking back I don’t know how I missed all the signs...he need independence and I loving him so much didn’t know the boundary. I felt abandoned, someone who had loved me so much for so long just left..just like that up and left.
He wanted someone to call on and so for almost three years I gave love and understanding and stood by his side without receiving any in return. I had, consciously and subconsciously allowed it to distract me from myself...from the person I was..it made me angry and crazy fucking sad..I started drinking and going out and staying out all night and in the middle of it all started working full time in a place where my work was completely unnoticed by the management. I literally lost myself in the mix of booze, dancing, working, and crying. I mean Christ I don’t know how many times I had the conversation with myself “why are you doing this to yourself? *justification*sadness* No I cant do this anymore”. You start to feel weak after a while and then worse I started to blame him instead of recognizing the reason I was hurting was because I allowed myself to.
I’d let myself go and gotten so far away from the calm, patient, understanding person I’d become..I let that person go, lost rather...I didn’t see that at the time..I don’t think I wanted too.
Then I met my Keith. He was dreamy and sweet and THERE..he was present..ready to give and receive love. On more than a few occasions we stay up for literally hours talking...I have no clue what we we’d talk about but we did..it was sweet and felt youthful. I had butterflies..it was so weird, weird because I literally didn’t think after nelson I’d feel that way...he’d tell me sweet shit you want to hear and it felt honest.
- While things were still fresh he told the night prior at a wedding he’d left and slept with his exgirlfriend in her car in the parking lot of a church. I don’t know why but I was crushed..it felt like someone slapped my face. It made me feel like all the shit that he said to me before were lies, I felt foolish. but I didn’t want to stop seeing him..and so looking aside we continued to “talk” and eventually made that relationship official. Continuing to spend all my time with him felt right and eventually just six months later we moved in together..it felt appropriate..somewhere in that time we started having to have “talks” often or I was always upset about something..little things that would bug me just would blow up in my brain..I’d fixate on shit and let it piss me off..
I don’t know why I’m continuing to use past tense because it just happened yesterday which is what even brought me here...
anyways, yesterday he told me he doesn’t know if this is sustainable, he doesn’t know if he can do this..and today I don't know still..I don’t know if I’ll go home and still have my partner..I don’t know if I’ll go home and my world will be different. My heart hurts...you know that feeling when your throat is thumpy and on fire or when your heart feels like its going to come out of your back side? I have that...there is no comfort in the unknown and for me there is no comfort in the idea of my everyday changing..at least not right now...we don’t always get what we want and I’ve fucking done this to myself...I’ve always been very good and self destructing and pushing people away..
Growing up my mother was extremely temperamental, I always saw her being easily upset by the jokes my father made or just, shit, half the time I didn’t know..but I know she'd get crazy. She’d throw things off the table and raise her voice at me over things I didn’t understand.
- Don’t get me wrong I love my mother a great deal, she is a wonderful person and taught me a lot of important life skills that I feel are the good parts of me today...and if she read this would cry if she knew how I felt about her other parts.
She has never taken care of herself mentally or physically... I don’t think she truly knows what it feels like to just be happy...she has mood disorders and depression and has struggled with it my entire life..if you just had met her you would think she is so sweet..which she is..shes just fucked up..genetics and ignorance haven’t done her justice...she has had traumas in her life that I know despite her word..she has not dealt with.. -
I remember this one time after we moved to the new house.. I must've been 10 or 11... I could hear my parents fighting downstairs..more than likely over money and she had all these things on the breakfast nook on the table because she was going through one of her “I’m going to organize and stay organize clean the drawers out” sprees which she did about once a year..I came downstairs because I don’t know like a car accident you cant help but look and all I remember was seeing my mom, beet red, take her arms and throw everything in one sweep against the cabinet...I didn’t understand anything about divorce then other than my dad wanted it and that it meant my parents wouldn’t be in the same house.. they didn’t get divorced but I remember sitting on the floor in my room hysterical deciding I’d be with my dad..
They didn’t get divorced and probably have no clue that I hold that memory...
They probably don’t know I remember the one year at the old house at Christmas time..decorating and them fighting so bad my dad took his bag got in the van and left...he was gone for what felt like hours..and I was nervous I’d be stuck with my mom...
I love my mom but my dad was the stable one..old and cooky but sane..I’d been attached to him since birth and sought him for safety because he seemed not like my mom..he’d walk away when she would yell..probably because there was nothing to say with her...now I know its because he was hard headed and didn’t know how to deal with it..
I didn’t want to be like that..I swore I would be more fucking sane than my mom.. for a period of time I was..I handled things with grace and patience and understanding..I’d breathe before responding and always remembered there were different ways of dealing with shit...
I’ve gotten so far away from myself that I don’t know how to communicate anymore..I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling because I think subconsciously I know I’m being stupid and irrational..I have been making someones life hell because I haven’t been capable of reverting to my old self and ways of thinking. I’ve become my mother...I’ve exhausted myself emotionally with shit that I could’ve dealt with differently in my head...and worse I’ve single handily pushed away the one person I didn’t think I could..
Let me make something clear...I am not blaming my mother..its not her fault I continue to be fucked up..she set the foundation and instead of VERY consciously changing it I’ve just continued to exist in an unhealthy way..it’s not her fault...we are products of our upbringing..but we have the power to change that
I can’t continue to be this way, I won’t continue to be this person.
I will not continue to allow past pain, feelings of abandonment, and all these unhealthy ways of being and thinking cloud my true self..I’m cheating my partner, my family, my friends, and myself..I’m literally just stealing from the future and the potential of what could be right now. I am a happy person..I am not this monster I’ve given fuel too....
The only thing I want to get across is control your mind before if controls you
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