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Remembering hurtsWARNING!!! This post is super freaking long. And personal. I did not post this for pity, or harrassment. I posted it for me. Cuz this blog is for me. Thanks!
I was in the shoutbox earlier which lead to a conversation with one of the shoutbox addicts. I am not sure if this person wants to be mentioned, so I will not. Somehow the conversation twisted and I was talking about my childhood. I told them that when I was younger, I didn't believe I would get this old. Hmmm, maybe cut and paste is in order.
Dude: you are so young, though... So this is where I am going to talk my way through this. When I do the math, it seems I was somewhere around the age of 9. My grandma was still alive, and healthy. She had moved from her huge personally designed house into a small apartment building that housed the people who were getting too old to do their own lawnwork. She had a huge garden, and tons of birdfeeders. She loved life. She was also as crazy as I am, if not a little weirder. Of course grandma and I shared a special bond. She was the closest thing to a caring guardian that I had. I could always go to her with troubles. Since my mom couldn't keep a roof over our head, we spent many nights at grandmas when the weather was too bad to sleep in the car. God that sounds so horrible. Well anyway, she would make us pancakes every morning. She was great at making them in shapes. She was an artist. When we would watch TV with grandma, we would lay our heads on her lap, and she would tuck our hair behind our ears, over and over. It was like we were getting petted. It was the awesomest feeling in the world. I always felt so loved. To this day when I need comfort, I tuck my hair behind my ears. (For those of you who have seen my picture, you know I have long bangs where everything else is VERY short. It is because I need to make that motion. I need to feel my hair behind my ears.) One day I was hurting really bad. I remember there being something on the TV, like war or fire or something. There were a lot of people dieing. That is when I asked her. As my head was on her lap, my face away from hers. Even though I felt total confidence talking to my grandma about anything, I was embarrassed at my failure in life. At nine years old I asked my grandma, "If I kill myself, would I still be able to go to Heaven?" She never missed a beat stroking my head. She continued to comfort me as she told me God sees all, he knows what pain I am in. How could he punish me? At nine years old I was contemplating suicide.
By 12 years old, the only comfort I ever knew was dead. I guess this is when I had my first psychotic breakdown. I do not remember much of this period at all. It further convinces me of my dissociative power, or the chance that I do have what used to be called multiple personality disorder. My sisters remember this time. They tell me I told them I saw Grandma's ghost, that I talked with her often. They also told me I acted like a child, I begged them to read to me until I fell alseep. I slept with the light on always. I saw faces in everything. I was scared.
By age 14 I had already gotten alcohol poisoning. I was smoking a half of pack of cigs a day. I smoked weed for the first time(on accident) and already had my heart broken by an older guy.
By 16 I had lost my virginity and already slept with at least four guys that I can remember. I admit that two out of those four where one night when I had too much to drink at a party with all guys. I went home bloody. And I took showers until my skin started to crack. I had smoked crack, snorted coke, but smoked weed on a regular basis, and then I found my friend... Opium.
Sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you! Match made in Heaven. You would not believe how much money I found to buy it. I mean, I was dead poor, but I always found money to keep me high. Somewhere in here a whole week is missing, and I wake up to find myself being checked into a psychiatric hospital. I guess I came in with a lot of alcohol in my system too. I don't know, you could tell me I had had an elephant in my butt. I have no idea what happened. So, I made it through a shitload of counseling, a lot of stupid children. Oh yes, I think of myself better than the petty spoiled brats who were in there, the rich snobby bitches who were going to kill themselves because mummy wouldn't buy them that $300 pair of jeans. I would have loved to change spots with them.
In my 18th year, I had been hospitalized many times. I tried to kill myself, I was a cutter. I bled myself whenever I could. I took as many drugs as I could. I did not want to be here. I was in an institution. God that was bad. I was so fucked up on all the drugs they had me on. This is another part of my life that is quite hazy. On my 18th birthday, one of my close friends killed themselves, while I was in the institution. I blamed myself for that for so long. I kept thinking, "If only I had been with him..." I know it is wrong, I am just telling you. God I miss him. He was in so much pain. Constant. I wish I could have done more for him. I wish I could have taken away his pain. Suicide really leaves so many questions, so much guilt or blame. I bet if we could bring him back to life, he would drop dead from shock at how many went to his funeral, how many times I hear someone bring him up. Still, after almost 8 years, we are still talking about him, missing him.
By 20 I had shaped up some. I was no longer selling drugs. I had a steady job again. And then I started with Him.
I fell so fast back into insanity. I was suddenly no longer reliable. One day on one of His whims, we packed all our stuff into my car, stole the rent money, and moved to Texas. My head was swimming. And for being only a few months into our relationship, we were doing damn well, being on our own in a strange state. We went to the strip clubs often. I had my favorite dancers. We made friends, we threw parties. A good time was had by all. Until he stopped touching me, stopped having sex with me. I know I say this so matter-of-fact-ly, but it hurt so God damned bad. In a weakened -drunken -stoned state, I made myself feel better the only way I knew how... I fucked His friend. Groan all you want. Live my life. Maybe you wouldn't have done it my way, but I got through it all the best way I knew how. So, I came home with huge hickeys all over my body, sore as all hell, tired, and gloating. Probably the hugest mistake ever. I did feel bad, but I wanted him to hurt as much as me. I wanted to say, "See what you made me do?!?" I felt ill. He started crying. Like choking he was crying so hard. And all I could do was look at him, stand there and watch him weep. He called his mom, crying the whole time he told her about what I did. He was going to pack, his mom was going to buy him a ticket home.
He stayed, I don't remember what was said. Something about me not touching him for awhile. I lasted longer than I thought I could. But one day I forced him to have sex with me. I didn't find this out till later, but I guess with that act, he hated me. He was so discusted with me guilting him into having sex with me. This was before I knew better. Before I lived with one for 6 years. When I thought that no man ever says no to sex. When I thought if he didn't want sex, he didn't want me. Do you see the insanity in there? Holy fuckballs.
*sigh*
And this leaves me with stuff I don't feel like going over with a fine comb yet. I want to give myself a little more time before I purge myself of feelings for Him. Today when we hung out, I helped Him move His desk over to Her place, and I couldn't go inside. With His things in it. It made me feel a little sick. So I don't think it's time yet.
I think this blog is the best therapy I have had in a long time.
12:03 AM - Dec. 28, 2005 - post comment
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Description This is where I throw all my cards on the table... anonymously, of course. I am depressed, and I know it. I am insane, and I know that, too. I just need somewhere to get it all out. Wanna know more? Try... Not Everything's Rose-tinted Self-Searching I'm Sorry Uncomfortable Feelings Society Issues Home User Profile Archives January 2006 December 2005 November 2005 October 2005 Friends(of a sort) Vittra of "Untamed Sanctions" Debbie of "Alaskan Chilli" Steve of "loudbuzz sounding off" Steve of "American Drifter" Moni of "My Scarlet Conclusion" Evie of "Evie's Corner" Betty of "Whirling Betty" FuzzBuck of "Gamer for a Laugh" EnderFP of "Red Monkey" Plusultra of "Plusultrapics" Ezine Writer of "Pivot Point" Adrian of "Everyone's Got One" Free Website Logo Design Past Renters! Jafer of "Idiot on a Stick" Miss Ann of "Miss Ann Thrope" Want my Feed? 
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