Just Some Thoughts On A Page

No matter where you are in life, remember that nothing is permanent. Everything is temporary. At least, that’s what my therapist says. She is a pretty lady, soft spoken, and full of energy. She is the kind of person you want your kid to end up like. I am not. There comes a point where you must begin to learn who you are and what you stand for. It is an exhausting work. I don’t know who I am or what defines me. I just know that I am tired. I am lost. I am a shell of the person I once was. And I don’t know where I should go next. What is the purpose any more? Fortunately, this too shall pass.

The Clashing Of The Titans

The following post will possibly contain some material that might be offensive and considered explicit to others. You have been warned. Feel free to proceed at your own discretion.

The last few months have been difficult to say the least. That’s not what this is all about. This is about living in your parents home. You are twenty four years old. You work a pointless job. Much of your time is spent trying to figure out this thing everyone keeps calling life. You find that a little self-pleasure usually involving some erotic material(porn) and a toy of a special nature(vibrator) can help with … things.

So the end of the night finds you engaging in this special play time. Keep in mind you live in your parents house. You are so extremely grateful for their generosity of course. Mom is a loving and sweet lady who only wants to put the dog in the bed with you since that is where the little angel sleeps every night. She assumes you are asleep and decides to walk right in. Much yelling for her to “wait a minute”, and “haven’t you ever heard of knocking” ensues.

The story would have been fine, if it actually ended there. As you are naked and in the middle of your alone time, you insist she deposit the dog and make a hasty exit. She, though slightly offended, does so. The brilliant side of you decides to text your sister; your fifteen year old sister; and tell her what has just occurred. Mom and Dad think their little baby is a pure and delicate flower. She know no wrong. She is the baby.

Text messages are great, when they are sent to the correct person. When you accidentally send the text about your mom and “special time” to your mom, it isn’t as great. Baby sister doesn’t get the text. Mom does. Proceed with interrogation and yelling. They don’t comprehend how I, I mean you, can send such a vivid and perverted text to their little darling. If they only knew the things about this child that you are privy to, they might bring it down a notch.

Now, you must know that your family is a Christian family. Porn and other things are unacceptable. In the past you were a bit of a goody- two – shoes. There is nothing wrong with that of course. It’s just that, in recent years, some of your views have changed. Where Mom and Dad see evil and Satan in porn, you just don’t. And in the past, you had a bit of an addiction to the stuff. Now, since you see nothing wrong with it, you can take it or leave it. Not sure what that says about you. Perhaps you should look into that one.

So now your parents are worried that your “addictions” and behaviors will be passed on to the youngest. You also didn’t get any sleep last night and called out of work. Hey, you are only twenty four. Cut yourself some slack. Neither of your parents will talk with you, and you kind of get it. According to their views, you are soaked in evil and need to be cleansed. In a way they feel disrespected. And since you understand that you will probably not be keeping that “no porn rule in this house” they shouted at you last night, you know it is time to make an exit.

No one is speaking this morning, so it should be fairly peaceful. Although that could mean they are waiting for the right opportunity to bring it all up again. There is no way Dad isn’t putting his two cents in. Nothing like talking about your sex toys with your Dad to make becoming a nun seem like an excellent career choice.

The irony of all this, is that she never even realized what she had walked in on, until she received your vivid text message.

The moral of the story is this: when you are sending a text, especially one with “questionable” material, don’t be stupid. Check, and double check that the text is going to the right person. And since you would never do anything like all this, I must go hide my toy stash. Cheers!

Update Time

Much has changed in a few short months. A few months ago, I lived and taught in Moldova. Never would have considered moving back home, but I did. The desire to terminate my own life grew to an extreme level. Feelings and thoughts refuse to be stifled. In some ways, I have given into who I am. In some ways I still run.

I have become unemployed, turned another year older, gained a brother in law, cut my hair, gained thirty five pounds, informed my family of who I am, and it feels like I have lost everything. It sounds so dramatic but it is exactly how I feel. Others don’t recognize this person, and neither do I. And I can’t tell if these are positive steps or just the normal, difficult steps towards anything worth being and doing.

Next week I have an appointment with a therapist. I saw a new doctor upon returning home. He gave a new medication and said I could begin therapy in January. That is quite a long time to wait further. So I will be seeing a different counselor next week. I don’t even know what to tell her. I just hope she is willing to go slowly and work with me.

In the process of transitioning my life it seems that many people have been hurt and disappointed. I still have hope that this is temporary. Things can get better. I hold on to the idea that they will. Thanks for reading. Cheers!

Pain – It Is My Friend

Through all the changes of the last couple of months, several aspects of life have remained the same. Depression exists regardless of where a person is. Eating properly and exercising both remain major struggles. Relationships prove to be trying as usual. The most alarming consistency though is that of pain.

I tend to give objects and aspects of life a gender. Perhaps in previous writing pain was assigned a specific identity. At this point in life, it does not have anything specific to claim. As dependable as pain is, it also proves to be ever changing. Any given day pain walks by my side. Sometimes it holds tightly to me, and we go hand in hand. Other times pain sneaks behind, ever so closely, but never close enough for an early discovery. It seems to have a plan; one that it refuses to share with me.

Pain has started showing itself in new ways. It still comes in the form of cutting, but has now become more creative in the methods of such behavior. Perhaps this is due to the new level of necessary secrecy. Pain no loner allows for any feelings of accomplishment or satisfaction. It yells at me from inside, sometimes in the form of anxiety attacks and sometimes in the form of that nagging voice in the back of the head. Often it won’t shut up.

If not a devil then pain certainly must be close friends with one. With all of it’s randomness and seeming instabilities, it remains most consistent in that it is always welcomed. At first entry might be harshly denied and fought against. With but a little time, it wins. It always wins. It is fine with me though, for it has become apparent to my mind that pain is actually a good friend. I know that in the difficult times it will come. In the good times it will be watching me. It brings gifts and asks only for attention. Pain is dependable. If nothing else, pain reminds me that there is life somewhere inside this vessel.

Thanks pain for your company. You are there when no one else can be found. You are strong when everything else is week. You scream loudly then whisper your foolish wisdom. You entertain and influence. You change, and you don’t. You are not always understood, but you are always available. Thank you dearest pain.

Update that is not an update

There is so much I want to say but have not had the time to say. Today is my sisters wedding. This is killer. All the people and the running around and the hair and the make up. Part of me wants to run away from all the craziness. It is so selfish for me to feel this way but I am only home for a few weeks. Two of these weeks is devoted to my sister. She hasn’t paid me a bit of mind since I’ve been here. Just ready to be alone for a little while. Venting feels good. In the mean time, Green Day’s Holiday is playing over the loudspeaker at the hair salon.