Why I'm Lost...For the Moment (Part One)
It never seems to be enough. I wake up in the morning and wonder why I'm even pushing these bedsheets off of me in the first place. Wouldn't it be great, if maybe just once, I could enjoy the first five minutes of consciousness in my day?
It wasn't always like this. And I'm not always like that. Sometimes I imagine that there has to be something else out there for me. That even though my day might feel like some kind of monotonous routine, there's something greater than me at work out there. At least, that's what I hope.
How about this. I'm the happiest guy on the face of the earth. I can look at the sky and see how incredible my day is, just being alive. The air that flows into my lungs, the sensations I feel in the tips of my fingers. The crystal clear vision I have in my eyes. I am the happiest man alive. Did I mention I'm in love with the most incredible girl in the world? Yeah, she's something else. And she also happens to be fifteen hundred miles away.
But this is no love story. This is no hub to me. This is my way of pouring my soul onto this LCD computer screen, getting some of this extra weight off my chest. Is it stupid to splatter this on the internet for everyone to see? Probably. But I'm at the point where I don't care anymore. I just need what's good for me. And this...this just might be good for me.
Have you ever looked in the mirror before? I hope so. Did you like what you saw? You'd probably be lying if you said there was not a time where you looked into the mirror and thought "if only I wasn't like this". It was probably after one of the worst nights. It was probably after one of the biggest fights. You turn the faucet on, splash some water on your face, and as the water drips off of your hair, you finally see yourself in the mirror, really see yourself. Your hands grip the sink, you wonder what if...and then what? The towel gets thrown onto the floor and soon those thoughts vanish like vapor. They disappear, only to come back later. And somehow it's the same scene. You look into something reflective, you see yourself, and maybe the cycle starts all over.
I wasn't always like that. In middle school I was oblivious. In high school I was desperate. Too preoccupied with making everyone happy but me. Too caught up in someone else's drama instead of worrying about that damn essay due in Astronomy. Maybe that was when it started. The night before my seventeeth birthday, that might have been the turning point.
I've been told before that I'm not good enough. I've been told before that I don't do anything right, that I should be doing this, and I should be doing that. That no I don't do this right, that I should be more like that. The night before my seventeenth birthday I had a fight with my father. Looking back, it really wasn't that serious. Sure, there was a lot of screaming being done in my direction about...things. But maybe I was too caught up in the moment to care. Before I knew it, my mind was racing as I sat alone on my bedroom floor. I felt such regret, such an anger at myself for always causing fights, always being the problem. I wanted to do something. But at the moment, all I could really do was deal with it. It had been getting late. And then for some reason I looked at my scissors. And there my gaze paused. And my mind raced again.
I was wearing a long sleeve shirt, so I pushed it up to my elbow, exposing my bare skin. I don't know what was going through my mind at the time. I was the biggest idiot in the world at that moment. I know that now. But low self esteem did something to me, and when you're in the mindset that you're the reason for things falling apart, you don't exactly think like a normal person. You end up thinking without thought. And that's exactly what I did as I pressed the scissor blade against my arm and closed my eyes.
Probably one of my stupidest decisions, and I know now that my actions hadn't solved anything. But in the end I guess it felt good. I'd had a reason to deserve what I got. Fast forward, the day of my seventeenth birthday. Things got a little worse. And I guess I saw then how much selfishness hurts others.
It was the first time I made my dad, the strongest man I've ever known, actually shed a tear. When he found out about it, when I showed him the three long cuts on my arm, I realized at once that what I had done, was the one of the most selfish, ignorant, and idiotic things I'd ever done. It's somewhat ok, knowing that you got hurt, and that you can get on with your life afterwards. But when you see someone you love, someone you care about with hurt in their eyes, with that expression on their faces, and knowing that you are the reason? Knowing that you're the reason at the moment their eyes are screaming,
How could you do this to me?
And then he hit me. Quite a few times. Believe me, I deserved it. I didn't really notice the pain, because I felt horrible. We were in the car, and the weather reflected my mood. Grey, raining, hard to see the road. And then I heard my dad's voice crack and he asked me,
You're really going to do this to me? You're really going to do sh** like that to me!?
I guess he thought I was suicidal. I wasn't. I had no reason to stop living, I just had a reason to feel like sh** at the moment I guess. That night before, was a mistake. I would've told him that, had my lungs not spun into overdrive. I was breathing so hard it felt like the car was spinning.
Things got better. I'd sworn to myself that I'd never do something that stupid again. Didn't work out so well. I ended up doing it one last time, cracked open a shaving razor and took out the blade. I still have the scar and it makes me sick everytime I see it. Even though I'd only cut myself about family issues, I still felt weak-minded. I'd told myself before, when I'd seen my friend's scars on her arms and thighs...I was like, I'd never be like that. I would never hurt myself like that. And definitely not over some relationship.
Fast forward, one year. Hadn't hurt myself again. I'd grown up and realized that feeling sorry for myself was pointless. Throwing a pity party, cutting my own arm open like an idiot,
Had I been on drugs?
No, of course I hadn't, but my actions..well you might've half-expected it. High school was almost over, and now it seemed to be relationships I had a hard time maintaining. I finally got my first taste of puppy-love. I thought I was in love. But this girl played me like a puppet on strings. I was under the impression that I loved her. Was I wrong? Hell yeah.
Drama. It never ends in high school. This girl ended up going back to doing heroin. Her best friend got with me and I should've known better. She was an alcoholic, promiscuous, and as I found out later, also a druggie. Except she did coke. Wow. Out of the entire female population in that damn school, I had to end up falling for two drug addicts? It's funny now, looking back. I'd always had dumb luck. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Girls, however, well they're just something else. In the life of a teen, it seems like relationships can make you or break you. Well for me they did both. By breaking me, they made me open my eyes. So I wiped my hands clean with them. And for the first time in a while, it felt good to walk away.
They say if you look on the horizon, you'll find better things. When school ended, I finally found out it was true. I knew I wasn't leading a horrible life. I had food in my stomach, roof over my head, healthy as a damn horse. What else could I need?
It didn't seem that way at first. I'm a person who's constantly thinking. So if someone f***s with me mentally, then they really f*** me up good. And it's hard with so many thoughts, so many dilemmas, so many views on life that I shouldn't even have yet! I see life in a different light. I can look at the stars in the sky at night and for once know that there are things greater than human problems down here. Looking at the moon and the lit clouds, I know there's more to life than medical bills, safe sex, flossing twice a day, checking the oil in my car. There's more to life than this.
I know I've made a few mistakes. And whoever reads this, well I really don't give a damn what their opinion is of me. At least I had the guts to say it, and not be embarrassed. Well, scratch that, it is kind of embarrassing. But everything did get better and worse. My whole mentality changed, my life flipped upside down. And it all happened,
When I met her.
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