Why I am Wierd

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Why I am Wierd :)

What a week. I can't say I'm dissapointed to go back to work today. The free time was nice, however, I don't do well with mass amounts of time with nothing to do especially when I am not feeling creative, and it seems when my brain isn't being stimulated by the daily routines such as work, my creativity becomes limited as I become bored. I did have a wonderfully destructive conversation with somewhat of a friend that sparked something in me, call it creativity, or ranting in frustration and anger and hate...it's a fine line. I know most people hate being called out, and hate to hear the truth, and though I believe most people dislike this truth because they want to ignore it, it frustrates me because I've already called myself out on the same things several times and I'm already tired of hearing myself think about it, let alone someone else who doesnt have half the insight I do. A few of the comments made were almost word for word exactly what ive expressed in my personal writings and thoughts: "I've seen you put your potential to work, I've seen you do amazing things no one else could do, solve problems no one else could, write words that made the coldest person cry, and now I see you being an alcoholic who hides like a little girl and makes a fool out of himself almost on purpose just so people wont expect you to be responsible for achieving your potential. I think your a bastard for wasting what God gave you, and not sharing it as much as you could. What are you hiding from? What are you hiding from others? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Despite her concern, and an obvious attempt at brutal honesty and rough love, the conversation completely crushed me. I am still not sure if her comments crushed me, or the ignorance she holds on the subjects due to my own dormant patterns of communication did me in, either way, she stirred up something inside of me that made me realize how much pressure I was creating by keeping so much to myself while displaying, at least in my public writings, such turbulence and frustration inside of me. She stated precisely how I feel about myself, and asked the same questions I ask of myself daily, and although it was good to hear someone else say it, It frustrated me that I let someone else have enough knowledge to really see a problem. For being diagnosed with clinical depression over ten years ago, and manic depression recently, I am a very happy person. There is an underlying train of thought that says otherwise, but it is a chemical issue in my brain I have no control over, and it has been worsened by many of the events in my life, but i realize this, and I move past it, and I have learned to be happy for every new day and how to let things go I cant control, and most importantly, keeping the depression to myself, and not displaying it for others or making it a problem to others. I want a healthy functional relationship, and you cant have those if your unhappy with yourself, so I just try to be happy with who I am and it pretty much offsets the depression. The friend I had this conversation with, I was with for 18 months in a commited relationship, and she claims still to this day that she had no idea of my depression or the events that had happened in my life until I displayed them, after we broke up. She says I'm a good actor, I say I'm good at adapting. Anyhow, during our lovely phone conversation, I told her something that I've only told to, literally, 3 people. 4 now. People as close as my immediate family never even got the story on this. It was a brutal situation that happened during a low point in my life, and it put me over the edge for a while. I didnt speak much of anything at all to anyone for quite some time. I choked on the words until they finally came out, and even though I cringed the entire time I was sharing this information I've tried so hard to conceal, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted, and it felt so good to hear someones voice who finally understood where you were coming from and why you do the things you do. Finding happiness in a blank facade for so long made me forget what it was like to really emotionally connect with someone. I am so concerned with people liking me that I've discovered that being blank is the best way to get the most people to like you. Our personalities and opinions shape who our friends are and who dislikes us. So I keep my personality to a minimum, and stay open to opinions and perspectives. I'll be honest and say that, I havent genuinely connected with anyone, friend or romantic interest, since the incident. From here I could start to tell you why, but it would mean nothing without the whole story. It takes a lot out of me to go back to this place and tell this story, so please ignore anything that seems out of place. I'll start with some background to let you know who I was then, as it will give you insight as to why I am who I am now, as I am a much different person. Oh, and no names will be used for reasons of respect.

Throughout school I was a straight A student. They came easy to me. I never studied, barely did homework, but aced every test I took. My teachers praised me, gave me a ton of slack on doing the bullshit work and homework, as they saw me fill it out within minutes after handing it out, showing clearly that I didnt NEED to do the bullshit work to learn the lesson and ace the test. I hung out with the jocks and the "cool" click and I was rather smug, and pretty much a little asshole to my peers. Knowing I was smarter and recieving the attention from my teachers made me feel superior, that is, until middle school and high school, when I no longer recieved slack for good test scores. From there I became a smug asshole to pretty much anyone who crossed my path aside from my friends, and I was still less than cordial at times with them. My biological father whom I met once died, my father that raised me bailed out on us, and I was kicked out of a high school my freshman year, and quit another my sophomore year. From here I began to find pleasure in drugs, sex, and alcohol. It's not all bad, I made some awesome friends I became very close with, and had a great time for a couple years. Lucky for me I was smart, and I knew there would come a time when I would sober up, and be responsible, I just didnt know it would come with such force and tragedy. I became the closest friends with a girl I had went to school with as a freshman, her being a senior at the time, we had dated in a sense, more just fooling around, and remained friends, and a year or two later when we started hanging out again, her new boyfriend just happened to be the biggest drug dealer in town. I literally spent day and night with them for months. They were older than me, and didnt seem the type at all...attractive, youthful, happy, active in their community, etc. They were my best friends, drugs aside, and they helped me get away from a lot of the bad things in my life at the time, again, drugs aside. I connected with them on so many levels that I havent even allowed myself to be open to around others since. Enough background, to the point...

Seemed like the usual night and the usual situation...as I was leaving work I called my friends to see what sort of crazy night was ahead, and to my joy, we were doing hallucinogens this night. Now the mere thought of hallucinogens makes me puke, literally. So we do our thing, and a few hours into it, we get to talking, and we start talking about the short-lived relationship of sex that her and I had. Her b/f walked out of the room as we were talking, and a look of horror came on her face. Apparently the two of them had been together during our relationship. An argument commenced, a gun was put to my face, I reacted with my smug asshole comments, and he responded "you're right, your not the problem, I am, I'll fix it"...I responded with a smug tone "please do". At the time, I don't think I realized exactly what he was saying. And you dont try to stop an angry person with a gun on hallucinogenic drugs trying to leave your presence....your rather thankful they did. Her and I argued for a bit, and as things were cooling down I gave him a call to see how he was...he wasnt making sense...all I could understand were curse words thrown in here and there, the word hate being used a lot, a very loud noise, then silence. I drove to his place and opened the unlocked door to find something that haunts my sleep to this day. A sawed off 12 gauge can leave quite a mess blowing buckshot through a brain. The police arrived shortly, asked me my name, and gave me a letter that read:

"So my best friend is a snake in the grass. You didnt know me then right? So it's ok then? You say you didnt but I know you knew what you were doing. She means everything to me, and you mean just as much. Both of you fucked me over in a big way and it just explains exactly what you were saying the other night about the condition of people. You are no better my friend. Were you fuckin her when I went to sleep too? I cant believe your story and she is a cheating evil bitch either way. If the two people I cared most for would do this, I dont find much hope in this world, never did before you guys, and well, you guys kind of fucked that. Know that I hold nothing but hate in my heart for the both of you as I die. To my grave, I fucking hate YOU. Your plea is granted dick. I'm taking care of this. I'll try to keep my eyes open so you can see the hate they hold for you, and so you can take it to your grave as well."

Slightly edited for language (trust me, it was way worse) and to make sense, thats all I care to share, and you get the point i think. His eyes were open. And I felt the hate, and I still do, and I wonder if I'm paying homage by not letting it go or if I'm just afraid to forget what a little compassion and understanding would have done in the situation. I have never felt such shame in my entire life. Someone who I cared for had killed themselves out of, and forever holding, hate for me. I know I am not responsible for his drug induced psychotic episode, however, I still wonder what a little compassion would have done for the situation. If I had just talked it out calmly with him, or refused him to leave, or left with him, or simply left him with positive sentiments. I havent talked to people in the same way since, which is a good thing in regards to the bad attitude, but with that comes the fact that I can't open up to people like I used to. I love making friends and having people open up to me and I truly love all my friends and I dont want to create the thought that im not capable of feeling, im more than capable of that, im just not capable of letting them know that by opening myself up. I'm too afraid of the power they have when they hold a piece of my heart, both friends and girls in romantic relationships. The mere power over their own lives gives them too much power with my feelings now. I have morbid nightmares of different variations of this situation as well as more current friends in the same situation. This leads me to have thoughts throughout the entire day of this occurence. My friends and co-workers help me through the day, as well as the simple act of being busy, but when im not there, the only thing that calms my brain is alcohol. I know this isnt healthy, and I can deal without alcohol, it doesnt bug me not to drink, it just takes my brain down to warp speed instead of "ludacris" speed. As far as why I often downplay myself and drink until my face falls off (or gets ripped off) around people and intentionally sabotage myself: i do this so that my words dont hold as much meaning to the people I care about. I realize this is the opposite of what most people try to achieve, but I would rather my words go in one ear and out the other than lead someone to suicide. I realize this isnt right, along with many ways I'm dealing with this in a long term sense, but I am trying, I've already taken steps in my life to lead a more functional and responsible lifestyle, and so far, so good. It's just difficult to find a balance to live off of with the knowledge and experience of so much.

Towards the end of our conversation, She began to be sympathetic and understanding. After a few moments of silence though, she came back strong with "But really, you need to quit being a girl about this. This happened how many years ago? Nothing you did or said made him kill himself, he was a bastard, and its turning you into one too. Everyone has problems and has had a rough life in one way or another. You're too important to too many people to flake out like a bitch. You need to shine like I've seen you do a thousand times. Watching you dwindle away your own worth makes me sick, Chris. Am I the only one who can see that its so hard for you to do cause your worth so much? Man up love, I miss your innocent smile." I love her to death, but man she can be a bitch, hehe. She's gonna kill me when she reads this. Anyways, to be honest, I dont even know why I'm doing this...for myself mostly, but also for anyone interested in knowing me and why I seem so strange and difficult to read. My good friend just made me realize I need to downplay the situation after so many years, not myself. And I thank her so much for opening the shades on that window. Now I just have to figure out how to open it and get some fresh air.

the consuming rage and endless discontent
creates a bitter soul that plans his own descent
ones demise can be chosen and executed
when he realizes the tragedy can be eluded

the sick selfishness that is homicide
your not really killing yourself
your killing the dreams in your mothers mind
your killing the love, that to your friends, you lied

you killed everyone you touched
if even for a minute, or a second
your malice now can not be judged
do you think you taught someone a lesson

you left a coward
the legacy you leave behind
is measured in how much love you devoured
in sick, selfish, homicide
your own suicide