15-12-16

lets be real. No one gives a shit.

1312

Why do I feel so much anger all the time?

When I was younger, 14 or 15, it used to be desperation, a sense of clutching at straws. Just grabbing, clawing for some sort of vague recognition for who or what I am.

When my first girlfriend left me, it wasn't as bad as when I found the underlying reason. Loss turned to a sense of helplessness and it felt like being in a room with walls made of mirrors all turned in. I lost all routine and tried to drown off the pain in vodka and gin. I lost time, about five thousand dollars, and kinda lost myself along the way. Note to self, getting drunk at 2pm every week is a good road to bankruptcy.

I ceased drinking too much, took things into my hands and got a part time job. The cloudiness was dissipating, and the couple of girls on the side made me feel okay about myself. I never liked to talk about my problems, talking about them acknowledged their presence, and made me feel all the more like I wasn't normal.

And as life decided I shouldn't get too content with feeling alright, it sent me another girl to love who led me for a year into believing that she saw me as a who I am. Only, of course, to turn it all around and pretend she'd never been interested instead. Because, well, liking me would ruin her wouldn't it. Thankfully I left her in the past and fell in love with her friend instead. Must have been best couple of years in my life.

All this time though, I feel I've been trying harder and harder to overprovide. Like somehow overcompensating would make me lovable. Like it would make the monster a little more invisible. But some people like to point the monster out. They point at it casually with their hands outstretched and taunt it enough for it to rear its ugly head, and then chuck stones off its horns.

Sometimes a horn breaks off and takes weeks to heal. Sometimes it scabs over and never regrows again. The walls we put up to protect ourselves become a weapon against us.

There is so much anger. Pulsating urges to tear, rip and hurt. the ones closest are the ones you care about, so you turn against yourself instead. It feels like sixty rubber bands stretched taut against your chest, and every breath you take brings it closer to snapping.

11.12

some days it gets too much. It overwhelms you like some kind of psychological waterboarding experiment.  i feel like a wall of sanity crumbles whenever this happens; it's like some creature inside had been awoken, it's full of rage and  is clawing tooth and nail to unleash it's wrath, to hurt, to kill. Feels like every single seam is bursting.

I feel like I'm drowning in fire, like there's an inferno twisting in my throat that I just can't swallow down. Makes me want to break things, makes me want to hurt. Feels like the only way to quell the thirst is by exertion. When I'm tired, the demons go numb, like they've been paralyzed. It makes me feel weak, to be affected by this. I hope breaking point is further away down the road.

7-12

"They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that’s true. What they don’t tell you is that when it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up.”
Big Fish (2003) dir. Tim Burton

Funny how this aligns to something I've been thinking of recently.

8pm.

That's it. i deserve to be happy. I deserve love and time and I deserve the kindness I've been throwing out for free. I don't deserve to learn and give and grow for someone who can't even spare me a hello. Who says sorry and doesn't change her ways. There's no point saying you care when even showing it is too much for you to take. I don't deserve to feel the absence of someone who turns a blind eye to my hours of need, someone who doesn't even see my presence.

I had all the strength and patience in the world to give to you, but I deserve better. I draw the line.

31.10.2016

Last night I broke down because a spade just couldn't be used as a rake day in and day out without losing its integrity.

Today I realise that just like the ability to reproduce doesn't make one a mom or dad, whilst anyone can proclaim themselves a man, it's the quality of the man that makes him true. While I am adjusting and pushing towards physical changes in my life, an easier life means nothing if I don't put just as much effort in making myself a better person. I want to be a man who is patient in testing situations, a man who cares about the needs of someone who can't give anything in return. I want to be a man who shamelessly owns up to my mistakes, a man who pays the extra compliment because a few words could make someone's day. I want to be a man who respects the understanding of others, and a man who will never be foreign to new situations. That is the person I am working towards in the end I am sure.

I suppose that is what drove my decision to bring my parents on holiday, the reason I want to apologise to her aunt for being in her house without her permission, and to ask for permission from her parents before taking her out. Because if I was my father, I would feel afraid to take the first step into a foreign land, and if I was her aunt, I would feel disrespected to find a stranger in my house, and if I was her parent, I would like to make sure that she's safe and taken care of.

Stomach Flu

i tell myself, three years down the road and if what is now will be what is then, I will knock on her door and ask her parents for their permission to be with her.

There are many things I don't know, but what I do know is that I have unlimited patience, unmatched strength, and a ridiculous urge to improve myself, and I will fight for those I love. I will apologize to those I've wronged, and I will own up to those mistakes. I will grow and exceed myself in all possible ways and that's a promise I can make to myself.