One of the main reasons I haven't furthered my education by going to college is that nobody will talk to me about college. Am I the only person who wants a heads-up about a commitment like this? I've asked friends who have attended college, and the usual answer is along the lines of "oh, just go and take some classes, you'll like it" or "Just fill out a FAFSA" or "Go talk to a counselor".
Now, I can describe, in gory detail, some of the sexual experiences of some of my friends. I can tell you long, boring stories about their children. I can tell you about the last time they got drunk AND what they did that makes them never want to get drunk again. NOBODY will tell me about college!
What, do they make you swear an oath of silence? It is so frustrating, especially when a degree, or a certificate, or whatever, don't really get you a job, they just seem to put you into a "club" where other members are more likely to hire you. I've heard of people with degrees in "Political Science" working in fields which do not apply at all to politics of science. But, because of their "degree", they are accepted into their fields, while I don't bear the "mark" of a degree, despite my qualifications.
So, if you know me, and know how I am, and care about me, you should take some time and come talk to me about college. I mean, not about your "good times", I mean about how college works and how I can make it work for me.
Thanks. Or screw you, whichever applies.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Anxiety or Confusion.
Fear is the single greatest force which separates man from that which is divine.
I push forward with this post against my best instincts. It has been a long time since my last post, and the reason is fear. I'm afraid I won't be eloquent enough for you. I'm afraid my wit will fall short and you won't be impressed. I'm afraid you will, upon seeing my weaknesses, offer words of encouragement and practical help. To say I don't want them is my fear speaking. It's harder and harder to tell who's speaking. It's harder and harder to tell who's the captain of this boat; me or fear?
I have tentatively self-diagnosed myself with an anxiety disorder, triggered by multiple traumatic events. Maybe it's as easily summed up as post-traumatic-stress disorder, I'm not a professional. I am a sufferer. I don't feel as though I can say I'm a survivor.
Right now and for as long as I can remember, there has been something in my mind which haunts me. Whenever there is a task put to me that might bring me the least bit of reward, I am paralyzed and unable to move forward and finish the task. Any task. It's gotten to where I'm afraid to shower. I'm afraid to brush my teeth. I'm afraid to do laundry or exercise. I'm afraid to cook dinner or clean the house. When I'm alone I'm afraid someone will find me and when I'm not alone I'm afraid someone will see me or engage me in some way, and I'm afraid I won't be able to find privacy again.
I first remember the fear when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade. I remember having use of a desk in my mother's bedroom where I could do my homework. But I couldn't do my homework. It's not that I didn't understand the curriculum, because it was simple to me. It's not that I didn't have pen or paper, I had plenty of supplies. It wasn't that I felt tired or anything rational. I can remember staring at the worksheet, a worksheet that should have taken me 5-10 minutes to complete. I stared at that worksheet for hours. I could not bring myself to finish it. I don't know why. I remember how I felt. My heart raced like it was trying to leave my chest. My head spun with thoughts of anything; escape, deceit, anything but actually doing my schoolwork.
I remember my sisters and my mother coming in to check on me; ask me how I was doing. I wasn't doing anything. I was staring at the desk in front of me. I was contemplating the texture of the green carpet in the room. I was wishing I could snap my fingers and this damned paper would disappear. I was dreading the inevitable following day in school and wondering how I was going to try to get the teacher to not notice that my homework was incomplete.
It was like yesterday in my mind. Maybe that's because the same thing happened yesterday, or today, or last week. It happens under many different circumstances to many different degrees, but it is all the same. I have the best intentions, but am unable to follow through, and the result is I wind up feeling shame and depression because of my inability to finish the simplest of tasks.
I'm afraid of life. I don't want to be afraid anymore. God, lift this burden off me and allow me to live my life.
I push forward with this post against my best instincts. It has been a long time since my last post, and the reason is fear. I'm afraid I won't be eloquent enough for you. I'm afraid my wit will fall short and you won't be impressed. I'm afraid you will, upon seeing my weaknesses, offer words of encouragement and practical help. To say I don't want them is my fear speaking. It's harder and harder to tell who's speaking. It's harder and harder to tell who's the captain of this boat; me or fear?
I have tentatively self-diagnosed myself with an anxiety disorder, triggered by multiple traumatic events. Maybe it's as easily summed up as post-traumatic-stress disorder, I'm not a professional. I am a sufferer. I don't feel as though I can say I'm a survivor.
Right now and for as long as I can remember, there has been something in my mind which haunts me. Whenever there is a task put to me that might bring me the least bit of reward, I am paralyzed and unable to move forward and finish the task. Any task. It's gotten to where I'm afraid to shower. I'm afraid to brush my teeth. I'm afraid to do laundry or exercise. I'm afraid to cook dinner or clean the house. When I'm alone I'm afraid someone will find me and when I'm not alone I'm afraid someone will see me or engage me in some way, and I'm afraid I won't be able to find privacy again.
I first remember the fear when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade. I remember having use of a desk in my mother's bedroom where I could do my homework. But I couldn't do my homework. It's not that I didn't understand the curriculum, because it was simple to me. It's not that I didn't have pen or paper, I had plenty of supplies. It wasn't that I felt tired or anything rational. I can remember staring at the worksheet, a worksheet that should have taken me 5-10 minutes to complete. I stared at that worksheet for hours. I could not bring myself to finish it. I don't know why. I remember how I felt. My heart raced like it was trying to leave my chest. My head spun with thoughts of anything; escape, deceit, anything but actually doing my schoolwork.
I remember my sisters and my mother coming in to check on me; ask me how I was doing. I wasn't doing anything. I was staring at the desk in front of me. I was contemplating the texture of the green carpet in the room. I was wishing I could snap my fingers and this damned paper would disappear. I was dreading the inevitable following day in school and wondering how I was going to try to get the teacher to not notice that my homework was incomplete.
It was like yesterday in my mind. Maybe that's because the same thing happened yesterday, or today, or last week. It happens under many different circumstances to many different degrees, but it is all the same. I have the best intentions, but am unable to follow through, and the result is I wind up feeling shame and depression because of my inability to finish the simplest of tasks.
I'm afraid of life. I don't want to be afraid anymore. God, lift this burden off me and allow me to live my life.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
The Truth Comes Out.
A week ago today, I left what I believed to be an emotionally abusive relationship to live with family. I felt as though I could't go on, and that I was in a situation that was detramental beyond my control.
This past week I've been trying to begin my recovery. This healing has been hampered, however, by the fact that my abuser insisted on contacting me by leaving messages on my new phone, sending me emails promising a "fresh start" and begging for reconsiliation, and sending emails to my family urging them to sympathize with her and convince me to "come back" to her.
I made the mistake of thinking she was not evil, only sick, and tried my best to convince everyone that she just needed help. I even sent emails to her trying to get her to move on with her life. I tried to keep them neutral and supportive; tried to take the high ground, but nothing seemed to work. So, I wound up sending her a subjective laundry-list style "why I left" letter. What I did was type what I wanted to scream at her. Well, it worked!
Today I got a reaction email from her, and I don't think she wants me back anymore. This email, which she sent to my mother and sister as well, went on to insult my integrity, my masculinity, my genitals, my relationships with my family, my family directly, and it also admitted in a nice, documented way that she had been cheating on me for the past 3 months, which I suspected and confronted her about. She, of course, denied it.
I guess my whole point in this is that I should have trusted my instincts in the first place. I felt things were wrong and, rather than end it like I should have, I stayed in that toxic (one of my new buzz-words) relationship for more than 3 years! What a dumb-ass!
So, kiddies, here are my words of wisdom for you all.
Love yourself first, then second, then third. If you are in a relationship that is the least bit uncomfortable, give it a go. Confront your partner and, if he or she is not completely receptive to the idea that a change needs to take place AND willing to take immediate steps to make things right, GET OUT OF THAT RELATIONSHIP. I am reminded of Paul Simon "just get out the back, Jack. Make a new plan, Stan."
Life is too short to waste on emotional vampires. If someone needs help, you have two choices; help them by directing them to someone qualified to help them (unless you have a degree in psychology, probably not you), or run like hell. There are plenty of people out there who can influence your life in a positive manner. Avoid the ones who bring you down.
Get yourself free.
This past week I've been trying to begin my recovery. This healing has been hampered, however, by the fact that my abuser insisted on contacting me by leaving messages on my new phone, sending me emails promising a "fresh start" and begging for reconsiliation, and sending emails to my family urging them to sympathize with her and convince me to "come back" to her.
I made the mistake of thinking she was not evil, only sick, and tried my best to convince everyone that she just needed help. I even sent emails to her trying to get her to move on with her life. I tried to keep them neutral and supportive; tried to take the high ground, but nothing seemed to work. So, I wound up sending her a subjective laundry-list style "why I left" letter. What I did was type what I wanted to scream at her. Well, it worked!
Today I got a reaction email from her, and I don't think she wants me back anymore. This email, which she sent to my mother and sister as well, went on to insult my integrity, my masculinity, my genitals, my relationships with my family, my family directly, and it also admitted in a nice, documented way that she had been cheating on me for the past 3 months, which I suspected and confronted her about. She, of course, denied it.
I guess my whole point in this is that I should have trusted my instincts in the first place. I felt things were wrong and, rather than end it like I should have, I stayed in that toxic (one of my new buzz-words) relationship for more than 3 years! What a dumb-ass!
So, kiddies, here are my words of wisdom for you all.
Love yourself first, then second, then third. If you are in a relationship that is the least bit uncomfortable, give it a go. Confront your partner and, if he or she is not completely receptive to the idea that a change needs to take place AND willing to take immediate steps to make things right, GET OUT OF THAT RELATIONSHIP. I am reminded of Paul Simon "just get out the back, Jack. Make a new plan, Stan."
Life is too short to waste on emotional vampires. If someone needs help, you have two choices; help them by directing them to someone qualified to help them (unless you have a degree in psychology, probably not you), or run like hell. There are plenty of people out there who can influence your life in a positive manner. Avoid the ones who bring you down.
Get yourself free.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Wonder Boy
I don't have any bruises on my face, no broken bones, no fat lips. It seems strange that a man of my physical stature and personality could be a "victim" of abuse, especially considering the fact that the abuser is a lady of average height and build and speaks with a refinement that comes from a "proper" up-bringing. And yet, that's how it was. I had to leave because, for the first time in my life, I wanted to die. I will never let myself be in that position again; not emotionally, not spiritually, not until my Creator calls me Home.
I am blessed to have a family that loves and supports me. That's what puts me here, far away from the city, out in the middle of nowhere. We spent the afternoon packing my worldly possessions, packing them into a trailer, and driving east for four hours.
As I was attempting to open the back-end of the trailer (the back door drops down to form a ramp up into the trailer) I looked up and stood, stunned at what I saw. Stars. So many stars. There are no city lights in central Wisconsin. Just stars. The night was clear; not a cloud in the sky. Frigid cold, the kind of cold that clears the air so much that the stars are that much brighter, that much more defined. I forgot they were there. I forgot that we live on a tiny little planet in an infinite universe that just keeps expanding. For the first time in years, I stood, slack-jawed with my hands at my sides, just staring into the sky as though it was the first time. It felt good. It felt better than good.
Now my stuff lies scattered in boxes, bags, trash cans, and hampers throughout my sister's basement. My life has no direction; I have no responsibilities or ambition. I am free. I am reborn. Hope springs in a life that just two days ago was almost cut short by my own hand. Thank God for this Grace He has shown me.
I'll never forget those stars again. I am excited to re-discover what else I forgot. Life can be good again, I now realize. I am so blessed.
I am blessed to have a family that loves and supports me. That's what puts me here, far away from the city, out in the middle of nowhere. We spent the afternoon packing my worldly possessions, packing them into a trailer, and driving east for four hours.
As I was attempting to open the back-end of the trailer (the back door drops down to form a ramp up into the trailer) I looked up and stood, stunned at what I saw. Stars. So many stars. There are no city lights in central Wisconsin. Just stars. The night was clear; not a cloud in the sky. Frigid cold, the kind of cold that clears the air so much that the stars are that much brighter, that much more defined. I forgot they were there. I forgot that we live on a tiny little planet in an infinite universe that just keeps expanding. For the first time in years, I stood, slack-jawed with my hands at my sides, just staring into the sky as though it was the first time. It felt good. It felt better than good.
Now my stuff lies scattered in boxes, bags, trash cans, and hampers throughout my sister's basement. My life has no direction; I have no responsibilities or ambition. I am free. I am reborn. Hope springs in a life that just two days ago was almost cut short by my own hand. Thank God for this Grace He has shown me.
I'll never forget those stars again. I am excited to re-discover what else I forgot. Life can be good again, I now realize. I am so blessed.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
It's over.
I feel so alone right now. I need a hug, but you won't. I need you to forgive me for leaving, forgive me for failing, but you won't. I need you, and I believe that you need me, too somewhere deep down, but you're too proud to admit and I cannot tolerate the situation any more.
My sister is coming today to move me away from you, from my home, from the situation. I never meant it to work out this way. I was going to stay until your son graduated, but you called me a "martyr". I was actually acting out of concern for him, for you. You were the one that said we were not "together" anymore, that we were just roomates. You were the one who said we would never work out. You said these things, and at the same time we went out to eat, we slept in the same bed, we shopped together, we cuddled. It's not right to go through the motions. The phrase about a dead horse comes to mind. I was okay to keep kicking, because it was nice. Holding you gave me comfort, gave me pleasure. Holding you was the only time in the last couple years I could forget how much I hate this world, how much I hate myself. Now, I can't hold you anymore. You won't.
Tragic how this whole thing came to a head while we were out for dinner. I know you're afraid right now of your job, of everything. I always asked you to pray for God's Will, not for specific wants or desires. I hope that this is in God's Will. I pray that it is.
It hurt so much to sleep on the couch that I layed next to you on the bed last night, out of exhaustion. I got up because I can never sleep right. When I layed back down next to you a couple hours later, I couldn't help but sob, thinking "this is the last time". I'll never feel the comfort of lying in bed beside you again. I'll never tease you about the "Branch Bunny" in the yard you loved so much.
I'm not even gone and I miss what we had.
I've got so many nice things to say about you. You are kind, you are smart, you dress well, you are considerate to a fault. You take care of your son. You care about the people you are around on a daily basis. You are a really good person. I wish you could see your dark side. That's why I'm leaving, because you can't, you refuse. I love you so much.
I hope this is the right thing to do. The decision is made. I hope you find someone who lives up to everything you wanted and needed from me. I wish you heaven. I hope you move to D.C. so you don't have to think of me every time you open your eyes. I'm so sorry I brought you here. You were doing just fine without me, before me. And now, what a mess.
I am bawling now, trying to hold back my sobs. I need you to hug me. I need to tell you it will all be alright. I need you to call me your baby. I need you to call me "Ding". You won't. When I really need you emotionally, you never do. You can't. That's why I'm leaving.
I can't endure your defense mechanisms anymore, they cut too deeply, come too quickly, come too often. I can't stand this living situation. Maybe it's petty of me to hate your son the way I do, but I do. I'm sorry for that.
This is not your fault. I pray that it's not mine. I feel like I have to make this decision. God help us both. I just know I need things to end. I need things to change, and I hoped that they would, that they had. They won't, and that's why I'm leaving.
I love you so much. This hurts too bad. I hope that one day I'll hear how well you've done since I left. You're the first person I've left. I feel so guilty. I don't want to hurt you. I never have.
So I wait for the cavalry to come and rescue me. Thank God for my sister, for my family. You resent me for them, and I'm sorry you don't have a family like I do. You deserve so much more than life has ever afforded you. I pray that you reap your rewards sooner rather than later. I'm so sorry I can't be one of the rewards.
I love you so much. I don't like that it had to be this way.
My sister is coming today to move me away from you, from my home, from the situation. I never meant it to work out this way. I was going to stay until your son graduated, but you called me a "martyr". I was actually acting out of concern for him, for you. You were the one that said we were not "together" anymore, that we were just roomates. You were the one who said we would never work out. You said these things, and at the same time we went out to eat, we slept in the same bed, we shopped together, we cuddled. It's not right to go through the motions. The phrase about a dead horse comes to mind. I was okay to keep kicking, because it was nice. Holding you gave me comfort, gave me pleasure. Holding you was the only time in the last couple years I could forget how much I hate this world, how much I hate myself. Now, I can't hold you anymore. You won't.
Tragic how this whole thing came to a head while we were out for dinner. I know you're afraid right now of your job, of everything. I always asked you to pray for God's Will, not for specific wants or desires. I hope that this is in God's Will. I pray that it is.
It hurt so much to sleep on the couch that I layed next to you on the bed last night, out of exhaustion. I got up because I can never sleep right. When I layed back down next to you a couple hours later, I couldn't help but sob, thinking "this is the last time". I'll never feel the comfort of lying in bed beside you again. I'll never tease you about the "Branch Bunny" in the yard you loved so much.
I'm not even gone and I miss what we had.
I've got so many nice things to say about you. You are kind, you are smart, you dress well, you are considerate to a fault. You take care of your son. You care about the people you are around on a daily basis. You are a really good person. I wish you could see your dark side. That's why I'm leaving, because you can't, you refuse. I love you so much.
I hope this is the right thing to do. The decision is made. I hope you find someone who lives up to everything you wanted and needed from me. I wish you heaven. I hope you move to D.C. so you don't have to think of me every time you open your eyes. I'm so sorry I brought you here. You were doing just fine without me, before me. And now, what a mess.
I am bawling now, trying to hold back my sobs. I need you to hug me. I need to tell you it will all be alright. I need you to call me your baby. I need you to call me "Ding". You won't. When I really need you emotionally, you never do. You can't. That's why I'm leaving.
I can't endure your defense mechanisms anymore, they cut too deeply, come too quickly, come too often. I can't stand this living situation. Maybe it's petty of me to hate your son the way I do, but I do. I'm sorry for that.
This is not your fault. I pray that it's not mine. I feel like I have to make this decision. God help us both. I just know I need things to end. I need things to change, and I hoped that they would, that they had. They won't, and that's why I'm leaving.
I love you so much. This hurts too bad. I hope that one day I'll hear how well you've done since I left. You're the first person I've left. I feel so guilty. I don't want to hurt you. I never have.
So I wait for the cavalry to come and rescue me. Thank God for my sister, for my family. You resent me for them, and I'm sorry you don't have a family like I do. You deserve so much more than life has ever afforded you. I pray that you reap your rewards sooner rather than later. I'm so sorry I can't be one of the rewards.
I love you so much. I don't like that it had to be this way.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards Men.
Yes, I know of all the lies. Jesus was most probably NOT born anytime around December 25th. Yes, Christmas was most probably put in December to coincide with Yule, a pagan holiday of light, and Hanuka, the Jewish festival of lights. Yes, Santa Claus has nothing to do with Jesus. I know that Hallmark, along with retailers the world over, want us all to buy stuff, and probably propagated the holiday for their own selfish profits.
All I've got to say to that is, so what?
I spent many years, thinking I was righteous, trying to enlighten the world by refusing to "buy in" to what I thought was a sucker's holiday. I celebrated Yule (actually a beautiful holiday with traditions familiar to most), told all my friends and relatives not to send "Christmas presents" or "Christmas cards", but to send "Yule" substitutes instead. Any time someone would say "Merry Christmas", I would reply with a self-righteous "Joyous Yule!" Then, one day, it clicked.
I realized that I needed to lighten up. Why not celebrate every chance we get? Let's celebrate the birth of a savior. Let's celebrate the fact that the days are getting longer now until June. Let's celebrate the idea that a magical elf is giving gifts to the children of the world. Most importantly, let's celebrate and practice "Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards Men".
Life is too damned short to try to justify everything. If we have a chance to be happy in this life, we better damned well take it. I'll celebrate just about anything if it means I can get together with long, lost relatives and friends. People walking around wishing each other a good day, Christmas Day or any other, is kinda nice for a change. "Happy Holidays", "Merry Christmas", "Happy Hanuka", "Joyous Yule", "Happy Anachronismas", "Happy Kwanzaa", or whatever the hell else you have a chance to celebrate!
Today, I wish you all heaven here on Earth. May you all get just a little better than what you have coming to you. May you all know that someone loves you, and may you be able to spend enough time with that someone that they know you love them, too.
To all my friends who I don't pay enough attention to, I apologize and send my love. To all the friends I have yet to meet, may God hold you in His hand so that you may arrive safely to the day we become friends.
To anyone offended by "Merry Christmas", may your heart be softened enough for you to realize that "Merry Christmas" is not the most offensive thing a person could say to you, and that they are just trying to wish you well, regardless of your beliefs.
And anyone out there who hopes I have a happy day, go ahead and wish me one!
Lastly, may 2009 be the year your goals are met and all your dreams come true!
P.S. Sorry to my Jewish brothers and sisters. At least I can spell Yom Kippur!
All I've got to say to that is, so what?
I spent many years, thinking I was righteous, trying to enlighten the world by refusing to "buy in" to what I thought was a sucker's holiday. I celebrated Yule (actually a beautiful holiday with traditions familiar to most), told all my friends and relatives not to send "Christmas presents" or "Christmas cards", but to send "Yule" substitutes instead. Any time someone would say "Merry Christmas", I would reply with a self-righteous "Joyous Yule!" Then, one day, it clicked.
I realized that I needed to lighten up. Why not celebrate every chance we get? Let's celebrate the birth of a savior. Let's celebrate the fact that the days are getting longer now until June. Let's celebrate the idea that a magical elf is giving gifts to the children of the world. Most importantly, let's celebrate and practice "Peace on Earth, Goodwill towards Men".
Life is too damned short to try to justify everything. If we have a chance to be happy in this life, we better damned well take it. I'll celebrate just about anything if it means I can get together with long, lost relatives and friends. People walking around wishing each other a good day, Christmas Day or any other, is kinda nice for a change. "Happy Holidays", "Merry Christmas", "Happy Hanuka", "Joyous Yule", "Happy Anachronismas", "Happy Kwanzaa", or whatever the hell else you have a chance to celebrate!
Today, I wish you all heaven here on Earth. May you all get just a little better than what you have coming to you. May you all know that someone loves you, and may you be able to spend enough time with that someone that they know you love them, too.
To all my friends who I don't pay enough attention to, I apologize and send my love. To all the friends I have yet to meet, may God hold you in His hand so that you may arrive safely to the day we become friends.
To anyone offended by "Merry Christmas", may your heart be softened enough for you to realize that "Merry Christmas" is not the most offensive thing a person could say to you, and that they are just trying to wish you well, regardless of your beliefs.
And anyone out there who hopes I have a happy day, go ahead and wish me one!
Lastly, may 2009 be the year your goals are met and all your dreams come true!
P.S. Sorry to my Jewish brothers and sisters. At least I can spell Yom Kippur!
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