Well, it’s been a long time since I was here, and I am quite certain by now that no one is looking anymore. Maybe that’s good, as I have some things to say, but don’t know who would want to hear them. Part of me worries that I am only doing this to stroke my own bruised ego. Part of me wants to bruise that ego even more, stomp on it and kill it and be done with it completely so that I can start over and become something different, something more than what I am.
Because right now, I don’t like what I am. I’d like to say I don’t like who I’ve become, but what I am starting to realize is that this is who I have been for a very, very long time. I have always known, down deep, that I am irresponsible. I tried to rise above that, to find ways to become more like what I should be, but I have never done it in the right way, not really. I take the easy road, a lot of times. I say to myself, “Well, you deserve to do something nice for yourself, you deserve to make yourself feel better.” But I am often justifying behavior that is inexcusable, if I am honest with myself. I have never been very good at being honest with myself.
I wonder if I have ever been any good at being honest at all. I lie with ease, I always have. I often do it with good intentions, to spare the feelings of others, to make things simpler, to hide my own feelings. I have been committing that lie, the lie of omission, the lie that says, “No, everything is fine, just carry on with the simple things and hope it will all be ok” when really I should have been saying the brutal honest truths that are deep inside of me, the things that I am so afraid of I don’t know if I can express them, even here, where no one is listening anymore.
Thus, I have been trying to get to some hard truths, to force myself to say them, write them, confront them. I hope starting over here at Cloudwrangler will help me do that. I hope I can be honest with myself. I have often viewed this kind of public writing as something that should be done brazenly, without fear. This kind of raw exposure of one’s self should come with no regrets, no compunctions, no holds barred. I have shied away from that at times, and embraced it fully at others. I cannot promise that I will be successful, but I can try.
Try, the simple derivative of my favorite word. Endeavor.
So, some truths about me, as I understand them, right now.
I have never hated myself as much as I do right now.
I have never understood how Marty and David could do what they did, and a big part of me still does not, but I am so much closer to it now. I know I could never make the choice that they made, but I can see now the deep black abyss that they must have feared so greatly. I can see a life alone, without love or friendship, staring me right in the face.
Being alone and unloved is the greatest fear of my life.
My own anger is a close second. I have long had a terrible temper, and it has many times gotten the best of me. I’ve ruined many, many good things because of it, and I don’t know that I have it fully under control, even now. My temper recently raged so frighteningly out of control that I was afraid I might ultimately, completely, self-destruct. I felt I deserved it, that ending, and I was very, very frightened.
Actually, this is a better way of saying how much I fear my own feelings. I have been afraid for many, many years that I don’t have any REAL feelings at all. I often feel as if everything I do is simply the perceived expected response to stimuli. I often wonder if I really care about anything or anyone. I have hurt everyone I have ever loved, ever cared about, ever called a friend. Sometimes I wonder how far I am capable of going, how much I could really just turn my feelings off. Am I capable of immoral behavior beyond the horrific things I have already done? If I can lie to myself and others this easily, could I steal indiscriminately? Could I physically hurt people, since I am so capable of doing it emotionally? Could I commit violence without conscience? The only answer I have been able to come up with is, “I don’t know.” I am terrified at my own answer, terrified of myself. I don’t know that anything I feel is real anymore, except one thing.
Regret. I have done awful, evil things to many people, Jess in particular. I have hurt her more deeply than anyone ever deserves, and I have often done it with a callousness that I would not have believed possible, and fear has been possible all along at the same time. I make small, candid remarks that I believe, on some level of my sad little mind, are funny, without any realization that they will hurt, deeply hurt, other people. My brain/mouth filter is irrevocably broken. The only thing that leads me to hope in any way is that for the first time, I see that what I have done has not only hurt me, but hurt others. That pain, the pain I have inflicted, seems more horrifying than the pain I feel for myself. I haven’t felt anything like this since I was a child. I can remember once being horrified that I had hurt my mother by lying to her, the one person in the world who loves me unconditionally and does not deserve such behavior. I actually ran away from home, determined not to bring any more pain to her. I hurt deeply because I had hurt her, not because I was upset myself. Those were the simple feelings of a child of 10, these are much more complex, but they are equally real. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I have a feeling that I can hold onto, that is real in my heart, and it is a terrible feeling indeed.
But it is real, and thus it gives me a small measure of hope. I know that it must come from other real feelings, feelings of admiration and love for others. If I feel regret at causing pain to someone, then I must, I MUST, have had real feelings for them at some point. I want to believe that, even though I am certain they no longer do. I want to save the friendships I have, maintain them if I can, because those I currently have mean more to me than any others I have ever had, Kevin and Jess in particular. I owe them both so much, and I must try to be a better person if I am going to hold onto either of them. I think my relationships with both of them will be irrevocably changed, Jess for certain, and that is good. I want nothing but happiness for them both, even if I don’t have it for myself, even if I must face life without either of them. I must live up to being a better friend to Kevin, a better partner in our endeavor together, a harder working more dedicated member of the team. With Jess, I cannot begin to be anything resembling her friend for some time, I don’t imagine. She has so much anger and hatred for me, and she is right to have it. I keep asking for her friendship, then behaving like an animal licking its wounds, snapping at her fingertips the moment she reaches out her hand. I have been so selfish when it comes to our relationship, it will be a miracle if we can start over with a new friendship. I have no idea if it is possible.
I know I need space from her, but it is difficult. We’re in the same circles, and I want to surround myself with friends right now while I am so low. But doing so means denying her that same opportunity, and I know how hard those social situations have been for her in the past. I’ll have to make a conscious effort to think of her feelings now, and not my own, when looking for comfort. I’ll have to accept pain and loneliness for a while, because I have inflicted pain upon others. I suppose my Catholic upbringing was never as far away as I would have liked to think.
I must make a conscious effort with every action to think of others. I am learning that it is not in my nature to do so, may never have been. I must retrain myself to be less selfish, to have real feelings for others. If there are real feelings in me, I must work hard to get them to the surface. I must Endeavor to be more than I have been.
I am deeply frightened that I am not capable of it. I hope that I am wrong.