72 Hours In…

It’s been three days. 14844-blue-water-drops-on-a-dark-leaf-2560x1600-digital-art-wallpaper

I’m in a new state, a new home, a new territory, and new surroundings. A new adventure is about to begin – or already has – and I have NO fucking idea how this will end up. My goal; to be a better person, healthy, genuinely better… because who I am now is killing me.

I’m not as scared as I thought I would be. I’m not struggling as bad as I thought I would. But, I have a side of me that takes over, kind of like an autopilot mode. There’s a side of me that takes over and keeps everything under the surface. It will explode one day, I know this.

The nightmares lately are almost too much. I wake up sweating and crying. I wake up panicking and wanting to claw my way out of where ever I am. I wake up terrified and pissed off. I wake up and don’t ever want to go back to sleep, no matter how tired or delirious I am. For instance, today I have been unpacking boxes and trying to set up my new home since 3 am.

The people and the environment here is a culture shock. I have no idea what the fuck I am going to do, how I will be, what I will like, and not like.

I look at the backyard that is now mine, the living room, the kitchen, the environment that I now currently reside in, and I think about how I need to get healthy, how I am lucky to even be here – yet alive. I have put myself through so much physically, I could be a medical science experiment. How do I even function? How do I wake up every day and still am able to live like a regular human being? Of all the times I have tried to kill myself on purpose, I am shocked it never happened by accident.

Self indulgence, greed, pride… these are the things that drive – and inevitably – lead me to my demise. I own my faults. I don’t deny my wrong doings. I am who I am. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. And it doesn’t mean I don’t fully understand myself.

Not even I understand the dustiest corners of my mixed up soul…

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Only Smarter

image-pngThey say that which does not kill you only makes you stronger. I think strong is the furthest thing from the truth there could be; it may not have killed you, but you are forever affected and changed by the experience. I believe it teaches you things alright, but not great things.

With each emotionally painful experience I’ve had in my life, I have learned how to suppress, ignore, defeat, and side-step emotions and people in order to see another day. With a destructive personality like mine, every day is a war. I find myself battling thoughts and desires that I know deep down will only lead to a demise. But still, the feelings and thoughts are there. It’s like my conscious is a whole other person inside my head; talking to me and guiding me through days and events I would otherwise fail miserably at. The times I am congratulated or complimented on my performance in life – in general – are somewhat painful because I wish so much I could fully explain that I am not doing as well as everyone thinks!

I’m a mess. Today is only slightly different from the rest. While my issues and addiction have kept me from doing what I was legitimately supposed to be doing with my life, I am at least painfully aware of my situation. And by painful I mean both physical and emotional. This all started as a way to ignore how broken my heart was from my loss… I never meant it to become a seven year long addiction that even I feel like I can’t beat on my own.

Which is shameful to me; I have always been able to beat things that break me down. I have always been a fighter. I’m still fighting, but this is one battle I cannot win on my own.

For the first time in over thirty years, I realize I am free. I am free and have no one to blame for anything but myself. I am free and it took a long time for me to realize that I do not have to answer to anyone. That also came with the realization that I put myself in this situation. What angers me though, is that I know this, I realize this, but can’t fucking change it. I know I am capable, but the willpower, the strength, is just not there. I’m proud of parts of myself, parts of my life. I really am. But this small part of me… this monster that just will not die, cannot be satisfied, and will not settle down… that part of me… makes me wish things I know cannot happen.