Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Pain is necessary

If I could go back to my younger self, I would tell him of all the mistakes that he would make, of all the heart breaks, all the misguided anger, all the sadness, and depression that would take over his life. And let him know, that all the pain, all of the emotional and sometimes physical damage he would take would be apart of him even as he strived for something that would always seem to be beyond his grasp. For as long as I could ever remember, all I wanted was to reach out to people in some way, to be the one person that everyone could go to, to keep the secrets and share the advice that I had no idea I could give to help..

And yet, with all of the pain that I grew up with, the mental torture of my psyche, the cutting, the attempted suicides, still I am here. It's has given me a chance to reach out to even more people, to show them that they are still beautiful, that they still matter, and even if they feel like the whole world is against them, but how could I still say that everything is going to be okay, when I feel like it would be lying? No, not everything is going to be okay, things are going to suck, they are going to hurt like hell, and you are going to feel numb to the pain as you try everything to drive it off. Drinking, smoking, cutting, sex, throwing up so that you don't feel fat, sleeping far longer than you should just to avoid the world and what it throws at you, the list goes on..

We live in a very messed up society, some would argue that we are moving forward in our social standings, that we are being very progressive in allowing those that would love differently, others would disagree, saying that we are destroying the very fabric by allowing such acts to continue without limitations. And all I can hear is noise, and bickering, hatred, and the cries of those caught in the middle, those that just want to be left alone, to not be seen as different, but the same as everyone else. And because I know how much of a bleeding heart I am, I reach out to those I can, and I get hurt afterwards..

In April, I got married to my ex, Kristin, she had been really bugging me, saying that she wanted a child, and that she wanted to be with me, and get married, the whole nine yards. So! This being after my breakup with Liana, came up with the ingenious idea to agree, not really to the married part, but the baby making part. I knew after agreeing that I couldn't take it back without her mom getting into the mix, again, and telling me how much of a fuck I would be, again, for lying to her daughter, who should have her own job, her own place, and not living with mommy and her meth addicted dad..

Breathe.. So, I didn't tell anyone, just an adventure for me and me alone, to see the one woman that I had known for over five years.. We clicked, again, talked, spent a shit-ton of money on her and her family, did the hubba hubba a few times, and you know when you get those emotional highs after finally getting to be physical, and to actually touch another human being? No? Well, just keep with me, anyways, I proposed, she accepted, dropped a huge bombshell on my family, my mom was speechless, as she had a right to be, and that was my final mistake with trusting her one more time.. We got married less than twenty-four hours later, and I left the next day after cleaning up the pig-sty of a room which she kept saying not too.. Seriously, how can you live in a rotting trailer, with two pit bulls that need to be outside, not cooped up in a small room, and expect to not have to clean?

So, I realized my mistake and tried to talk to my significant other about it, although I was wrong in the way I went about it, she was a trooper for the first two months.. After that, he just stopped really talking, no big shocker as that would happen, and after that, just this month.. Our arguments started ramping up, she refusing to move, again, and me not taking that shit, as I kept giving her positive reasons to move, I have benefits, I had a place, (Currently looking for a new place), transportation was readily available, and I would find a place for her pit bull Oreo with a yard.. Not good enough. Fine, so one day, she says that she's talking to one of her ex's, and I blew back a "Great." She asked what was wrong, and I responded with that I didn't want her talking to her. (Yes, she's bi, and one of her ex's was a girl.) I didn't bring up the fact that her and another friend (Girl, again) were talking like a married couple, which I just shrugged off as what girls do? I don't know.. Anyways, she say's that she's not going to change, that she'll basically talk to whoever she wants, and that was when, it became apparent, again, that we couldn't do this, again.

So, the feelings mutual, we agreed that we had gotten married at a bad time, and that she wanted to divorce, even as I came back with saying that shouldn't be an option.. Apparently it was, she said goodbye, and after that I cried heavily for having my fucking heart torn, again!(Good grief, it's like I'm writing a damn soap opera.) The next day I asked her, if that was what she really wanted, she was adamant that is what she wanted, that I could send the divorce papers, and she would sign them, or we could stay married but separated.. Which as I write this, I'm looking at the papers, and getting ready to go the courthouse at which I broke down in front of the clerk for, and trying, but failing to not cry.. Because even though I was an ass, and felt that I had made a mistake, I feel that in the end, I was at fault for not being the caring husband I could be, and feel like a failure, with no one really to hold my hand, I've become more open and honest with my parents, and actually been greeted with open arms, and a shoulder to cry on.. And for the life of me, I can't really remember why I started resenting them in the first place..

And I don't know if Kristin ever does read these, or if my parents do, or if any of my friends.. But to me, this is a site I know I can go to. To write down my frustrations, my anger, my sadness and my other unusual oddities, that keep me awake at night. To feel that I am leaving a piece of my soul bared to the public, to be judged or be seen as the weird guy that has a furry persona because I love animals so much. But honestly, it's also here for those that don't have anyone to really talk to, or that no one understands the pain they are going through, that they are drowning and no one is reaching out to them.. But I do see you, I see that broken heart, and that cracked mask that hides the real you from the fake, the fake that puts on a show to let others know that they are okay, as they go home and break down from the hollowness that they feel everyday. I am just one guy, but I am here to talk to if you ever need someone to listen, to give you a hug, even if it's a virtual one, and to show that pain sucks, but if you decide to go forward, it can help you, even a little.

-Stray.

1 comment: