Today sucked. I don't have an explanation but it just flat out sucked. I felt nauseous all day. Thoughts and feelings just came caving down on me. Depression filled me to my eyelids. All I kept telling myself was to make it through the day and I would be alright. Well, here I am. I made it! I feel somewhat better as well.
I've had a string of optimism and I was due for a crash. My body and mind can't tolerate optimism for very long. I have been conditioned all my life that "shit happens". I think my dad should get an award for filling me with high levels of anxiety, fear, and insecurity growing up. He somehow managed to make me feel responsible for always being on the verge of losing our house, and him being unemployed. Yeah, an 11-year-old kid sure has that kind of influence. It is really unsettling to grow up with a man that would lock himself away for days then come out screaming at you for minor infractions. I help care for that man now, that sweet 77-year-old man.
It really is a mind fuck, to tell you the truth. I love him dearly, yet he subjected me to a truly unpredictable and emotionally unstable upbringing. It wasn't my choice, but this is what I got. Just when I think I've gotten over it this beast rears its ugly fucking head and tears right into my new found optimism.
The worst part about all of this is that in the back of my head I am terrified that I will end up like him somehow. It really makes me want to remain alone in life. I don't want any part of passing this legacy on, you know? I've seen how it has affected my mother and my siblings. I know that my father was not the monster I thought him to be, though. Deep down I knew that he was hurting, that his life was in jeopardy. None of us really understood much about mental health to know that he was just diseased. I am so glad that he at least has found life to more enjoyable than he did back then. He still has his moments but at least he isn't Hannibal Lector anymore.
When I was in high school I could never get very close to any one girl. I deeply feared anyone getting to know what I really felt. My buddies didn't really care and I loved them for that, to be frank. I still have lingering problems with this. Usually, if I do share that part of me I proceed to cut and run. It's weird to realize that the reason you feel "unlovable" is primarily of your own making. I honestly don't know what to do with that word: love. If someone says that to me, that they love me, it is laughable. "How could anyone love me?" When your greatest profession in life is self loathing, having a person say that they love you is really idiotic, "They must really be stupid. Can't they see it?"
Of course, I have made huge leaps of progress since my deepest periods of feeling this way. But, I still have to deal with lingering bits, leftovers, of these things in my psyche. I have come to know over time what to expect and how to deal with these moments of crud. I no longer look at my scar and think about 5:30 AM much, other than that it happened long ago. I don't look at electrical cords and cross beams the same way as well. A bottle of pills or a handgun aren't seen as escape anymore. I just get through one bad day and dust myself off.
I didn't realize that I was that dusty today.
3 years ago