Dirty Laundry Blog: 7/14/2015 PANIC AND DOOM

What happens to people when nothing is valued or earned? When everything becomes materialistic and disposable? How do we convey the satisfaction of working toward something to entitled children who only demand more?

What about when we aren't perfect, when we're tired, when we've worked our fingers to the bone for 30 plus years and don't have a damn thing to show for it? We've lost it all once, twice, or so many times we can't remember... but we're still drawing a breath so we ought to be grateful?

What do we do when we can go no further? When every fiber of our being screams for us to stop? When we can't endure another rant, whimper, vent, whine, bitch, moan, grown, tantrum, crisis or teardrop? When we realize nobody is interested in listening to our shit? When we wake up to the reality that it's everyone for themselves, and we've given everything we had so freely?

What do we have when we learn that love is a lie? When our self esteem is mutilated by the toxic bastards who gave us life? When we treat our partners like hostages? When we trade secrets on how to take without giving? When we pride ourselves on coming out on top and it means leaving another human being face down in our wake?

What does it mean when we cry for no reason? When we find pleasure in unpleasant thoughts? When we just can't do the every day tasks that we're supposed to do? When routine becomes such a fucking grueling chore that we would rather jump off a building and call it a day?

What do we do as people whose employers keep demanding more and we've got nothing left to give? When our souls are bought and sold and traded on the open market for their profit? When physical labor and skilled trades were once the bedrock of our civilization, now looked down upon like peasantry from the eyes of a prince?

What do we do when we've been to hell and back during life? When we've made amends and apologies? When we've learned to forgive and to live better and to lead others by positive example? When we can barely hold onto what little hope we have left? When our own simple ideology has no place in the prison-like world we've been sentenced to? When our recipe for happiness is ruined by the vile mephitis of decay? When we force ourselves to deny what we know in our hearts is true?

The grim fact that a foul stench is all that remains of a culture's morality.

What the fuck do we do?

The Roots of Laziness, Woven into Our Options

I've been accused of being analytically fanatical, even paranoid. I am very literal, sometimes overly logical, my decision making tends to side with methodical, and the description I give to my thoughts is visually articulate. I enjoy dissecting ideas, thoughts, scenarios, and behaviors. Much the way I enjoy taking objects apart, observing their inner working functions, and moving parts. With a better understanding for how they work, I find a deeper appreciation of STUFF in general. My mind tends to work more scientifically than one being driven by fantasy or mystery. However knowledge of science allows me to write more terrifying and believable fantasies and mysteries!
On the other side of the scale, I am very human, extremely fallible, I do have a tendency to stand strong in protest for many things that I deem unacceptable, many would find this fortitude positive, however standing strong and protesting that which has already occurred and cannot be undone is futile. Although I inherently know that this energy can be put to good use elsewhere, I frequently find myself stuck in the rut of what is that's unsatisfactory and how it "SHOULD" be (according to my distorted mindset). Achieving preventative action, being proactive in the future is my main goal in every new found disappointment. 
I push beyond what it is, and note all of it's unfortunates, allowing my vision to illustrate what I can do to improve it moving forward. The sadness comes with the feeling of helplessness when I am reminded that I am but one woman, unable to change the world alone. I am frustrated by my failures, saddened, defeated, and disappointed that others do not share in my enthusiasm to raise the bar, and take positive steps toward creating a better life.
I don't see anything special about me. I think I am a bit more intense than most that I know, but not above average or UNIQUE in anyway. I simply see it my approach to life as a pragmatic one. Wherever and whenever possible, I own the errors of my neurotic ways and do not put it upon others to have to exist within my emotional wasteland. When I receive positive affirmation, it's equally important for me to take it gratefully, without ego, and to not be placed on any pedestal or to be labeled as anything other than me. 

I believe human beings form (in our own imaginations) ideas of what everything "SHOULD" be like. Society does this for us through the media, feeding us what to perceive as the "Perfect Family" from Leave it to Beaver or Happy Days, to the Brady's, the Bundy's, or even the Simpsons. We believe our family isn't "normal" if it's not just like the ones we see on TV and we place unrealistic expectations on our loved ones without merit. We mustn't forget that every resentment is rooted from our own expectation.

We spend our entire lives searching for acceptance, kindness, affection, and unconditional love. When we have it, we find it, or it finds us, and we fail to recognize it at all, we are so preoccupied with our obsession with setting the perfect stage, micro-managing everyone's time and how they spend it, passing out scripts to every character in our lives. We are trying create the movie that plays in our mind of what it's "supposed to be". It is impossible to manufacture "perfect". We eventually find that we've lost what we had because we spent so much time telling the people who loved us that they are doing it wrong.

We fall victim to depression and lack any feelings of satisfaction when fixated on all of the trivial things that we DON'T have. In turn, we fail to feel even the smallest sense of gratitude for all of the amazing things that we DO have. We CAN adjust the ways we think, and we can adjust our perception, merely by changing our perspective. This is true for what we have or don't have materialistically, what we get or don't get from our families, in our relationships, from our education, employers, and with regard to the quality of our own lives. Striving for what we want brings us leaps and bounds above wallowing in what we don't have.

Material has filled this emotional void for so long that when we are down it feels good to get something, to buy something, or for some people to steal something. I am willing to bet that if you were to ask a 10 year old kid in middle class America to give you a mental inventory of what he has at home, he can only tell you about the stuff that "makes him cool" or that which he has and other kids only wished they had... I am even more convinced that if you were to ask that SAME child what he was missing out on, or what he didn't have that he wished he had, that he would give you a far more detailed list.

I believe we as a society have become so lazy because we are addicted to all the "stuff" that provides immediate gratification, from fast food, to the internet, to smart phones, to alcohol, drugs, gambling, shopping, and sex and so on. We aren't willing to "DO" anything anymore, we want everything at our disposal.

Why go to a gym and WORK out, if this pill can make me lose weight?

Why go to the library to do research when I have Google?

Why read the book when I can watch the movie?

Why feel my hurt feelings when they make a pill, powder, or drink so I don't have to? 

Why go to work when I can gamble or steal for more money?

Why do laundry when I can buy more clothes?

Why wait to get home to my spouse when I can have whats here in front of me?

My theory is that we [Americans] are entitled, spoiled, and often unappreciative. I attribute this first to EXCESS and then to that insatiable "hunger for more" we experience before we're through with all that we have in front of us. I believe that we are a gluttonous society and we've demanded more and more stuff and when the price of the stuff was too high, we've demanded more options, and now we too many CHOICES of which SIZE, COLOR, or BRAND of stuff we're gonna get, and just gotta have. 

When traveling to remote places, I feel a sense of ease, or even serenity. Or a tranquil simplicity that just FEELS BETTER. Our bodies and our minds have a way of telling us when everything is alright. Although I have no desire to go and live in a cabin in the woods, I've definitely considered a life of fewer choices, concerns, or so-called "conveniences". In fact, I find that I experience more anxiety and withdrawal from the world when I can't choose the best option as it feels like the best distraction, or the lesser of a multitude of evils. This is not at all because I am indecisive, it's because the options are all the same, there is really not one that is better than another. Then I find myself feeling dumb having even wasted my time, and wondering what I might have been more satisfied to be doing instead. That this over abundance of choices are of things that aren't even really serving a single good purpose, other than to fulfill my need to be entertained in my selfish moment of boredom, and that moment has come and gone already. As a result, I can't help but feel a little ripped off, angry that I can't have that time back, and suspicious that I was purposely diverted toward one thing as a way to distract me from recognizing the truth about something else. I don't talk too openly on this as they build institutions for people who do, and there is a vivid assortment of pills used to counteract this sort of thinking, giving doctors job security and (what do you know?) INFINITE OPTIONS for treatment of an alarming number of patients who believe they are somehow "broken" and are desperately seeking some sort of fix.

Ummm, I Didn't get the Memo... What happened Here? Who Changed the Rules?

Conforming to what I see everyday as society's acceptable way of life is the most depraved act that I can comprehend for myself at this moment. I am more likely to take my own life, as the I cannot seem to comprehend the way we've come to dismiss human decency, being considerate of others, doing the right thing, committing acts of kindness, having humility, and a living by a some sort of moral code. 

I was taught very young to treat people the way I would like them to treat me. In summer camp, in preschool, this was referred to as "the Golden Rule", I took it literally, and I've always tried to keep it at the front of my thought process when dealing with people. I am not a true threat to others, as being homicidal would mean that I wish to hurt another human being, and I am not generally seeking relief from my own pain through the suffering of another person. When another person wrongs me, I most often blame myself. Of course, there are times when the harm they caused was in fact, cold and calculated, when it was blatant and malicious. In these cases I am usually out for blood, I can visualize myself doing horrific things to them. I suppose there could be a "perfect storm" scenario where every element was just so, I could snap and commit murder, however what usually winds up happening is that the reality in knowing that carrying out the act would affect innocent people connected to my victim, saddens me deeply and the rage turns inward... and again, it's me that deserves to hurt. I deserve to suffer, I am not worthy of anything better, and because of this I can't go on.

Suicide is ALWAYS in my mind. However, the way I see it, is final. This means "lights out", one last time around with the same old repetitive bullshit, and game over. 
I was shocked by a mental health "professional" who stated that I could not be truly suicidal. This absurd statement was backed by my lack of a very specific fantasy surrounding the details of my death (method) AND the logistics of my funeral, who would be there, what they might say or think, or how sorry they would be. I don't care about how I do it, when the time comes and I know I am ready, if I'm driving I will drive into a tree, if I'm walking I might hurl myself over an overpass, or off a cliff, or off a roof, or into a train, I could slice my own throat, or get a gun, or OD on drugs, I really am not concerned with the HOW, so much as the getting to the fastest, most efficient means to an END.
There are no details after the lights go out. I have to wonder why anyone who was TRULY wanting to end their own life would bother to fantasize about what happens after they are dead. Are they doing it to spite or hurt someone else? Are they trying to prove a point? That seems more insane in my mind than the person who just simply wants to get off the fucking ride, and get away from this rigged carnival game once and for all.

My childhood isn't the issue, it was the same old sordid tale of deception we all bring to the table, nothing better or worse than any other person who comes to a therapist at 40 years old. There was no memorable, traumatic, or catastrophic event to mark my discovery of the truth when I was 7. Yet this was the very moment where the first pin was inserted, all faith was lost, the fuse had been lit and set of the rapid spiral of anger, self injurious behavior, depression, rage, impending doom, night terrors, bed wetting, self loathing,  cutting, attempting suicide, overeating, sneaking out, running away, dishonesty, profanity, promiscuity, drugs, alcohol, crime, violence, disrespect for authority, and overall distrust in man. Nothing more than your run of the mill, textbook example of Borderline Personality Disorder.

My adult life is a whirlwind of emotional peaks and valleys,  my childhood and reckless teen years brought to light a court ordered diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder. It was not until my 30's that I would find this diagnosis to be so undeniably accurate, yet I defy doctors who insist upon medicating me with modern methods. There is no way in hell that I will allow even the smallest dose of chemical pharmacology into my life ever again. 

When on those medications I had no desire, no creativity, no imagination, no ambition, no drive, no motivation, no will to succeed or to improve on anything, no self worth, no sense of individuality. I could not draw, and I used to draw very well. I almost never had any desire to write, and when i did, there was no feeling in what I wrote. Since I was able to hold a crayon or pencil, drawing and writing have gone hand in hand as the most important things in the world to me.
I was also physically unhealthy with numerous side effects from medications. The worse would affect my renal and cardiovascular health. Other drugs would impact my joints and my muscles. To top off the effects of these medicines that were supposed to "help level out my moods" would be a devastating unhappiness, not a depression per se, instead I described it as more of a feeling of involuntary isolation. Being trapped or suffocated inside of a bubble of synthetic material, like my brain chemistry and nervous system had been taken hostage and had been suspended in mid-air, in the warehouse of some aftermarket manufacturer's lab, a stagnant, purgatorial state of chemical neutrality. 
All of this was supposed to "help me cope" with life, yet I had no feeling, I could not feel my feelings at all, I wasn't able to  become aroused, or enlightened. Perhaps to my benefit, I was never angry... Nor could I feel excitement, I was internally irritated but couldn't feel enough externally to do anything to alleviate it, I was unable to cry or to even produce tears. This was not LIVING, it was less than even merely EXISTING in anyway that I would deem acceptable for myself.
My goal was to LIVE among the rest of society accepting things as they are, embracing what I have, who I am, how I am wired, without having to absorb such an extreme impact when those very specific times when my stressors, or triggers, or behaviors, seemed to flip that switch inside of me. I needed alternative ways to LEARN so that I could ADJUST my behaviors and reactions, I did NOT need brain altering chemicals.

I seem to do well for shorter periods of time when I am single, much longer periods when I am in a relationship and have another human being to be considerate of. I don't know if I am lying to myself when I say it's not about a driven desire or need to take care of or manage another person's needs. Could I be the poster child or the epitome of codependency? Or is it possible that I'm merely sadistic and  prove more productive when in a position of power over others, and in turn need to have a hostage?!
From a deeper level that feels more raw and honest to me, I feel that this trend centers mostly around my need to have a defined role in life and in the life of someone else. My desire to fulfill that role the way that I've envisioned it's, "supposed to be" with all of the kindness and honesty and respect I've never been given but always wanted in return. *The Golden Rule*
However, as things don't run smoothly as I see them in the movie playing in the back of my mind, when I cannot force them to work MY WAY... I've taken inventory while reviewing my past and I will agree definitively that I do tend to exhibit those nasty passive aggressive traits of a sociopath.

It seems that because I draw from a variety of past experience in efforts to make informed and intelligent decisions, that I don't believe anything I am told by anyone. It has become part of my nature to investigate everything and everyone sometimes to degrees far beyond necessary. If I do not find data contrary to their claims, but I'm still not comfortable allowing them "in", I will remain "on the fence" and be "guarded" throughout the early weeks or months of a new relationship. I really stay this way for a long time, I don't ever "feel" assured, I certainly don't know when or how or who to put trust my trust in. So I have begun to lie to myself and to those who love me. I paint a picture of romance and chivalry, kindness, courtesy, and eventually I believe these lies, not entirely, but enough to carry on the facade of a "healthy relationship". It's not easy to distinguish the red flags of instinct from the flashbacks of "last time" when faced with the idea of letting my guard down.

Although I knew deep inside that I had been embellishing my association with a less than mediocre acquaintance, I used to use a myriad of impulsive behaviors to my benefit when self soothing the hurt.  I'm sure that I did indeed set myself up for a great deal of the pain, as I can see that I have again lied to myself in my own voice. I will pretend to believe these lies that I tell myself until they just don't work anymore. I've placed no value on family, I've forever felt doomed as the byproduct of 2 crazy parents and am overwrought with the most inconceivable guilt for the contribution that I've tossed onto the heap myself, my own child. What's MY fault and what's theirs and what's static and can never be improved upon? What's hereditary and what's behavioral? What CAN I make a difference in and what is out of my control? What's instinctive or primal and what's learned or taught?

I am very factual, literal, and logical, I learn things best when introduced methodologically and scientifically. Information comes to me through a perpetual flow of observational data collected by my receivers: eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and skin, combined with mental note-taking or eidetic snap shots. Based on what I know to be true, I am able to form a baseline. Further results from other areas are subject to reflective analysis and added to the baseline, and my list of facts. My evaluation of data gathered through other trial & error processes allows me to deduct and give reason to believe what I have found. 
Science shows us that these methods are appropriate. Yet I find myself surrounded by the nonchalant who see no issue with wasting time, burning out resources, and fail to recognize the value of this seemingly endless supply of uncollected data. I find most people are of this lackadaisical mindset, and with that, the most recent approach to learning about ways to better our lives and the best practices we use seems to be, "Just throw it all against the wall and see what sticks". 

As stated before, my mind works in a very literal sense. I mean exactly what I say, and I use a very clear and articulate method of delivering the message I desire to get across. Yet I am nearly always misunderstood. I am mind-blown by what seems to be an increase in stupidity all around me. Maybe it's not even stupidity, or certainly not from a an IQ perspective, perhaps it is deliberate, or worse even, an actual epidemic to settle for less. 
The lack of work ethic and follow through in our own lives, in our careers, lazy parenting, accepting behavior that traditionally would be considered otherwise unacceptable. These seem to be the new "standard". I'm criticized for my need to exceed these standards, and raise the bar. I am encouraged to sit back and not do so much. This is a lifestyle to which I am unable to conform. I can't gauge what is right and wrong anymore, I do what I feel is right, yet I am robbed by the person who chooses not to and I have not a leg to stand on when fighting to get back what was taken from me. I lose the fight because the thief was versed in exploiting whatever loopholes there were in the law as it has been written. I don't wish to know all of the loopholes, or even all of the laws. Where I come from we didn't have to, we were driven by a sort of moral code, written or unwritten, it was all based on my early programming with the this all important, "Golden Rule". 
Since it's the only baseline for everything I've ever known. Feeling as if my brain is clogged with convoluted bullshit, distrust in others, and smoke from the last flicker of hope for humanity blowing out on me. I just want it all to stop, I want for it to end forever. I do not wish to continue in a world so cold and dishonest and shallow and selfish anymore. Purposeful ignorance (we don't talk about the big elephant in the room) is all too common beginning at home and now it is evident in the workplace. People are either emotionally defeated or so lazy that they don't seem to care about delivering their best anymore, it is no longer a requirement. There is no real need to follow directions, rules, orders, or protocol in everyday life: 
>Customer Service is deplorable at almost every level in for every consumer. The goal is not to help the customer anymore, it's how fast you can get rid of them. So if the customer is still having a problem, tell them you are going to transfer them to a manager and just hang up on them, let the clock start for someone else when they call back in. 
>It's nearly impossible to get a simple cup of coffee made to order without a noticeable error. Even with computerized coffee machines and measuring systems at businesses that serve nothing but coffee!
>Doctors have no time for patients and lack a bedside manner altogether. They are paid to write prescriptions and push you out the door as fast as they can.
>Construction lacks craftsmanship. Craftsmanship costs too much time and cuts profits.
>Religion lacks sanctuary. Scandal in the name of the very God they're devoted to. Nothing is sacred.
>Everything is disposable. It's cheaper to buy new than fix what we've got. Even though "new" means lower quality.
>Personal Integrity has taken a back seat to social status. May the best liar win.
>Expressing feelings is no longer a sign of weakness, but a lack of boundaries. 
>Political correctness is to align society and label those who spoke up, only to be cast out, labeled, and medicated. 
>Children are empowered negotiate their demands with parents. This should prove interesting in the future! 

I feel like I woke up one day in a parallel universe.  Where everyone lives life accepting mediocrity under the, "Fuck It" philosophy, also known as "good enough", "average is still passing", "an ugly win is still a win". 

Have we been hypnotized as a society? Baited and switched with gadgetry and awed by technology? Distracted like children with video games and lollipops? Did "they" dumb us down? Who are "they" anyway? The government? China? Aliens?

How come I didn't get entranced like the others? Do I even have a purpose in life? Should I be doing something more advanced or complex? Have I wasted so much time on the things that didn't matter, that I am now stuck in this gloomy grey area? Is this the matrix? Was I supposed to take the red pill or drink some fucking Kool-Aid? Is any of this shit really happening? Is this some experiment or lesson in quantum theory or virtual reality? Am I really thinking freely or is this someone else's idea and I am merely their puppet or a character in a larger computer life simulation game?  Is my need to understand ultimately what's killing me? Is my drive to correct my mistakes feeding my frustration? I thought this was the right thing to do! Should I already know all of this stuff? Is it too late for me to grasp it? When will the lambs stop screaming? 

Historically Hindered: The Roles Will Eventually Roll, Full Circle

Let me be the first to admit that I was a spoiled, selfish, materialistic, child.

Was I born that way? NO. 

Did society help mold me? YES. 

Did my parents help enable that to happen? YES.

Did they do the best they could with what they had given the circumstances? YES.

Kids growing up a decade before me, and a decade after me appear to be at different ends of this spectrum. It's as if no parent knows how to relate to their own child today, because each generation is technologically advanced 10x over the last. For example: My parents didn't have color TV or Cable, so they couldn't relate to my addiction to shows. I didn't have internet or life-like video games, so I can't relate to my child's addiction to electronics. 

The word, "addiction" may appear to be used loosely in this case. However, in my recovery I have learned about how unmanageable my life became because of my addiction, and the loss of values that came with defending my right to have my vice. If a child isn't doing his homework or chores, if he is not eating, sleeping, bathing, or going to school, but rather playing online or gaming until all hours of the night... If he is lying about the amount of time he is engaged... If he is becoming combative when confronted, or physically aggressive when his "toys" are taken away... If his life is completely unmanageable due to the use and abuse of technology... Your child may be addicted. 

When I was a kid my parents had one TV in the whole house, we didn't even have cable until I was 14. However, even then I wasn't allowed to sit and watch TV, my parents had control. Kids today have smart phones, MP-3 players, e-readers, tablets, handheld video games, and portable DVD players. When I was a kid, no TV for a week was not a punishment, it was a way to get more into something else for a week, I was still allowed to listen to music on my stereo (the walk-man came later). Today, no gadgets for a week is next to impossible. The parents' frustration is mounting, yet excuses are ridiculous, "He needs it for school... I can't take his phone away, how will he reach me... I don't want him to feel like he doesn't have the things all the other kids have". Would we be saying the same thing if all the kids had crack pipes or syringes and the drugs to put in them? Of course not. But since I am the once active drug addict who became an adult with no life skills, and feeling like I was a decade behind my classmates... I believe I am qualified to recognize the ways my addiction will manifest in whatever behavior it can based on what is at my disposal. 

Does that mean all video game addicted kids will become crackheads? No, BUT if you anger one enough by taking away his toys, he may act out and if the wrong people are outside when he does, anything is possible. 

So why not home school our kids and keep them close to us at all times? That is how some choose to handle things, however are they gaining any life skills that way?

As a parent, I feel a moral obligation to teach my child good work ethic, hygiene, basic survival, basic financial, and basic interpersonal skills. This way at 18 if they wind up out in the real world, they can last a little while before realizing that they aren't so tough. That was my theory anyway, however there are always outside influences which can counteract your parental teachings, and this was my experience. 

I was busy doing drugs and destroying my credibility when my peers were building a foundation of life skills. I was barely able to support myself, when I became pregnant and forced to support another. I did give up drugs and alcohol the minute I suspected that this was the case. I did a really great job as a mother for the first seven or so years. Everyone who knew me would agree. In the beginning, I lived with my mother, who would continuously under mind me, she would wake the baby from a sound sleep to play with her when she got home from work at night. We would fight, and we did, constantly. So I conditioned myself to leave as soon as my mother arrived every night. The only place I could go was the bar... and even then I wouldn't drink hardly ever. I would have a soda and a late dinner and my "friends" would show up. I did this every night and weekends I was rarely home at all, because the toxicity between my mother and I was too high to subject a baby to.

Before I knew it, my mother was retired, I was working 2nd shift, and control of my child was lost. This became more clear when I moved out and enrolled my kid in school, the behavior issues began, the hygiene issues began, the eating and TV control issues began. The kid had way more stamina than I had patience. The school, the police, therapists, everyone was involved, because I had asked for help. The battle became harder to win when I took my weekends and used them as a way to escape. My mother took my kid and I got high. The length of the weekend got longer and longer, soon my mother would be making a 40 minute commute daily to my child's school and I didn't even live in the town anymore.

Roughly 3 years later, I made a conscious effort to rebuild my life, beginning with my addiction. I was homeless, jobless, penniless. I was not allowed in my mother's home, my father was not speaking to me, my true friends had washed their hands of me, and my new friends, well most of them were dead or in prison by now. I begged forgiveness of my child, and my mother, I went into the hospital for a while, sober living, therapy, 3 meetings a day. Finally the words of forgiveness were spoken. I thought I was making progress, however, these were only words, the words that I wanted to hear, no less. There was no meaning behind the words, no truth, no love, no merit, and no ACTION. The relationship with my mother became increasingly volatile, my 12 year old has discovered the internet, video games, and junk food. I tried to invoke my motherly duties and try to  steer the ship back on course, however my good intentions were met with resentment and resistance. These feelings simmered in a pressure cooker for another 6 years. While I was working on me, building a foundation of the skills I missed out on in my youth, my child was stewing with bitter anger toward me and there was no healing taking place at all. A high school drop out, spending all time time on the internet and playing video games with friends and never even bothered to get a driver's license, personal hygiene had become deplorable. My enabling mother continued to bankroll the whole operation.

When my child turned 18 the muscle flexing began, there was no way to avoid the verbal onslaught which I would receive. It's been months now and our relationship is at an all time low, however I have done far too much work on myself and my life to allow anyone to use or abuse me at any time. This includes my own child. She resents the way I try to help her assimilate her lack of enthusiasm toward growing up to the same underlying illness which feeds my addiction. The person is different, the symptom is different, however the disease is the same. The anger, the rage, the finger pointing and the blame, all comes from fear and uncertainty, right now it is all aimed at me.

There comes a time when we all realize the best outcome of a losing battle happens when the person with the greatest arsenal simply walks away. I feel emancipated and physically, I feel healthier, almost as if I have overcome a great illness. I feel no guilt, no shame, and I harbor no ill will. I live with a lighter heart, my family doesn't define me, and their lack of love will not condemn me. I am free today.

I am NOT OK

I am not strong, so don't lean on me.

I am not smart, you don't want to hear what I think.

I am not sane, stay away! Why are you drawn to me?

Keeping up appearances is about the worst habit I could have picked up along the way. I have perfected the art of creating and presenting a false persona, one far different from what I am or how I feel under my skin. My insides do NOT match my outsides. Like an actor on a stage, I portray a likable and friendly, fun-loving, smart, strong, and well rounded individual. Internally I am antisocial, sad, angry, I spend a great deal of time in the clutches of an agonizing depression. It is like a bad neighborhood that you wouldn't want to be in alone. My gut tells me that these feelings have roots in living this lie which may not be unlike living a double life. A life and a lie which I don't believe I can continue to carry on. 

That is why I started this blog, and it is virtually unknown to people who think they really KNOW me. I want my fresh start on an empty canvas, a clean slate so to speak. I want to be me, without walls, with no aggressive defenses, and no bullshit. I want to make true friends based on who I am inside and that I am working to help myself heal from there, rather than continuously trying to put on a show. Such honesty would be sure to render me powerless over the cruel and calculated predator known as the human animal.

Trust does not come easy, as I feel as though I am vulnerable to exploitation if I am to allow an open view into who I really am. This may be why I am prone to abuse. I generally find the good in all people and become weakened as I listen to their sad, sorry, stories, I make convenient and well packaged excuses for everybody's shit-bag behavior. I put myself in danger by doing so and I continue to allow it and defend it and excuse it over and over and over until it hits a nerve. Then, being the extremist that I am, I turn to drop the motherfucker in the most vicious and dramatic reactionary style that any retaliatory attack could be. Unacceptable behavior needs to be nixed immediately, not tolerated until it reaches a breaking point.

Knowing this, one may presume, is instrumental in getting a handle on it... If only I knew how to view things for what they are as they are happening. I  sometimes feel that I am at an extreme just before I hit a wall and dramatically, I turn radically into the opposite extreme. So when dealing with people and the way I cling to the good and bypass the bad... In that exact moment of discovery, after extracting all possible inner goodness real or imaginary, the only alternative that my mind can see happens in the immediate and turns to complete suspicion and skepticism. Sniff out the conspiracy and go to any lengths to prove that there is one in play. 

I go through phases where I will pass this negative judgment upon any and all who I encounter. Therefor the slightest thing set's my neurosis of intolerance in motion. (As a post-conscious observation... especially relevant in the event of my own misunderstanding). If it defies logic, or neglects to make practical sense in my thought process, my tendency is to adamantly reject it, aborting all other protocols, casting it out as alien, and publicly voicing my displeasure. My sharp wit morphs to a razor tongue which aids in the personal dissection of  character. I'm on auto-pilot, spinning beyond my own control, while systematically, my cyclonic behavior constructs the soapbox that I stand upon while I emotionally execute my newly manufactured enemy.

What has seeded such extremes of passive and aggressive anger inside of me? Why do I continue to allow myself to become enraged when the slightest issue arises? Human beings aren't perfect, we ALL make mistakes, we ALL have issues around admitting we are making them, don't we? Why do I feel in the deepest point of my heart, that I have a purpose on this earth? When will it be revealed? Which way will I turn? Who am I supposed to help? I can't understand this fire and ice, bi-polar, good vs. evil, human oxymoron, love me or fucking kill me... chemical conundrum which drives me and tears me apart from the inside! 

Sometimes I think I can completely  accept all of this. In actuality, it is but a momentary thought that allows me to believe any of this it is within the limits of  my own comprehension. I am told to let it be as it is, but I cannot. At my core I'm a fixer, a problem solver, a puzzle finisher, and I won't stop until I've connected the dots. At this moment, I am in fear I may be losing my grip, I am shredded inside, the pain, it burns deep today, and I fear that I may be falling apart completely.

All it Takes is ONE Difference of Opinion

And I ponder....

How many people have to believe something for it to be considered, "public opinion"?

Is this based on TV News and propaganda, on people who believe without question, those who follow the herd...?

When the world was believed to be flat, WHO'S belief was that? Did "leaders" use that as a scare tactic to control the masses, and keep people under their power, or had we not evolved enough to wonder or dream or have the desire to look beyond the life that we were living, or the land mass that we were living on?

In a world of infinite choices, options, luxuries, colors, and flavors, and styles, and MORE... I can see that it all had to start with a non-conforming idea...
Yet we consider the visionary to be insane...

The mere definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result...

STILL throughout civilization we shun those who see things differently until we jump on and ride the coattails of their success.

The Human Oxymoron

I am an egomaniac with an inferiority complex. I appear tough, strong, in control, calm, cool, and collected, but inside I'm crippled with fear, doubt, and insecurity on a reckless and wild roller coaster of dysfunction and pure mayhem. I find pleasure in pain. I treat the loneliness of my own depression with still more isolation. I keep people at arms length yet become saddened that no one ever gets close to me. I appear to be independent, yet I'm co-dependent to an extreme, only secure when taking care of someone else. I want to be recognized, but do not want to be watched. When I am right, all should take notice, when I am wrong, all should take cover. I hate my parents, yet desperately seek their approval. I'm disgusted by the opposite sex, and still desperately yearn for that fairy tale of happily ever after companionship. I build walls but have no boundaries. Trust no one, but tell everyone everything about me. I've been labeled as bipolar, bisexual, ambidextrous, passive aggressive, anti social, and yet I'm a social butterfly. I enjoy serenity and am attracted to chaos. I'm a loner, but I'm popular. I'm overworked and underpaid, an addict, a gambler, a stunt driver, a negotiator, an artist, and a muse. I am a best friend and a worst enemy. Let me talk you in or out of anything. I can steal your wallet and help you look for it. I'm born to help and full of hurt, therefore any behavior, substance, or lifestyle that produces enough pleasure to take ME out of me for even a split second... I will become instantly addicted to, constantly chasing any and all feelings of relief to the end of the line, as though I'm on a quest to discover the meaning of life.

Every single part of my life is an extreme in one way or another. I want everything in an instant, or I want nothing at all, I seek absolute perfection or see grounds for immediate dismissal. I am considered overqualified, yet I fall short and will almost ALWAYS underachieve. I am the epitome of spoiled, a textbook example of the purest childish entitlement, this stubborn "all or nothing" attitude. My thermostat is completely off or on the highest temperature, the volume of music has to be turned to the max. I take the hottest showers, and drink the coldest coffee, I barely nap during the day, and stay up all night. I want nothing more than to get to the point, so I find myself reading books and directions backwards. I know better than anyone, I even under-mind my GPS. I make lists but never use them. My best intentions ALWAYS yield the worst results. I detest and repudiate from the rules, instinctively break laws, undoubtedly resist management, defy government, debunk religion, shun politics, and nix the teachings of the like. I abide by my own principles based on logic and my personal experience and knowledge of all of the above. I  live to challenge the so-called experts. I will argue semantics just to make you second guess yourself. I adamantly reject any notion to conform, I subscribe to virtually nothing, I've adopted no trends, I cannot follow blindly like a sheep. I don't smoke nor believe in modern American medicine, I refuse to conform or to be enslaved by the inconvenient conveniences of modern society or anyone else's selfish, self righteous agendas.

Mommy and Daddy Issues... Ya Think?

Inside my mind is a bad neighborhood... I really shouldn't be here alone!"

When I am all alone with myself, the quiet is too much to bear. I am physically paralyzed by emotional pain...To own my part seems foolish, as I did not ask for this life and the fucked up childhood which I did not have a choice in living. Apologizes don't remove scars. Living amends work well for me and those I hurt who are interested in actually being connected to my life somehow. My mother hasn't ever been interested in me, what I wanted to be, or what I strive to do. She rejects me, refuses to see me, and when I show up, never misses an opportunity to point out just what kind of piece of shit I am, or how my status in scumbag-ville has so appropriately manifested in my child, who is nearly an adult, and a very positive specimen at that. 

After 17 years of chaos, filled with calculated emotional and physical abuse, my ex-military one time psychologist father, removed himself from my life, and has made very seldom a cameo appearance since. The only contact I have had with him in the past 22 years, I have initiated. Only one conversation has ended with a positive feeling, it was the most recent, and the odds of it happening again are so slim, it may very well have been our last one ever.

Repeatedly, I have tried to be a part of my family. Like touching a hot stove, burned my hand, and beat myself up about it. Time went by, I thought I was to blame and that it was going to be different, because of the work I have done on myself, I gave it another shot, and OUCH! That fucking stove STILL burns, go figure. Most recently, I have made a conscious decision to make no effort toward first contact with either of them, and of course there has been no attempt from either side to have any contact with me. I say that I do not hold any ill will or resentment... This is true as long as I am busy, working, going to the gym, attending meetings, out with friends, listening to loud music, spending time with my daughter, but the pain is there behind all of these band aids that I use to masque it.

The cut is too big for band aids now. It's torn up and the surface isn't sturdy enough for stitches. My hurt feelings and sadness used to only worsen during times when society calls for togetherness of "family", and holiday cheer. The word FAMILY is a hot button, which sends me off the deep end at times. It's safe to say that the pain is now constant and debilitating. I believe it is cutting off my circulation, I cannot breathe, it's stunting my growth. I can't act out in my old childish ways, as I would be incarcerated or hospitalized indefinitely. Medication is not an option for me, as I don't believe chemicals are an appropriate treatment of the root issue, but the outer symptoms... let's start with one chemical then add another, then add one more, then something for the side effects of the first, now the second and so on... defying all logic.

SO I write...

To both of you:

My poor choices were made after yours, yet mine have always been the ones criticized. What did we do about our precious child trying to slit her own throat at age 7? I know what we did, we suppressed it, after all what would the neighbors think? I have come to accept that once things happen in life, they cannot UN-happen. In my quest for validation, love, affection, nurturing, and emotional stability; I've sought temporary relief in sex, older men, older women, crime, drugs, and when I still wasn't satisfied, dominance, power, and violence. My relationships have been no healthier than the one that brought me into this world, and I recognize today that nothing else in my life can improve until I have successfully released this pain from my heart.

To my mother:

Keeping up appearances was your facade manufactured to keep people from getting close enough to see the sickness inside of you. In a sense I was raised in a lie and forced to lie. Feelings, affection, comfort, were dismissed, discounted, and disallowed. Love and respect were purchased. Trust was a foreign commodity, traded for leverage on the most believable fable. You are cold and calculated, and as you have aged, it has become more clear. When I was a child there was one parent that saw through you, as a teen, a second parent and a third, as an adult I notice that your friends have disappeared, you have just one left, and she will inevitably see through your veil of deceit. You had them all snowed for so long, as if you were some sort of "Mother Theresa", high regarded in your clique of church folk who had no reason to suspect that any kind of evil would lurk in their sacred house of worship. 

You are 71 years old, headed in the direction of dying alone, and I don't feel bad, not one iota. Fuck you, for continuing to treat me like I am lower than buried dog shit. I've fantasized about hanging myself at (Your Church)'s altar with a giant sign that reads simply, "(Your Name)'s Daughter", if only the video that plays in my head playing all the fucked up things you say and do could project out to ensure that you wouldn't be seen as a martyr. When I needed a mother, you needed to perform for your audience. The older I got the less fun it was, the promises of fame and fortune were as empty as my soul was becoming. I knew nothing of life, of being a woman, of sex, of my body. I sought your approval through all means possible. The more desperate I became, the less you had to do with me. You have been ashamed of my existence since I was able to form a thought that was different from yours. 

To this day you are uncomfortable when I begin to speak in your presence. If you admitted that you've ever had ANY single human struggle whatsoever, I would recoil from such an emotionally angry, and aggressive posture and I would embrace you in MY arms, as you are my mom and I am biologically wired to love you. Even though you have consistently used my need for your love as a way to crush my exposed, unguarded, heart. When I had cancer, you wouldn't even drive me to my surgery, I was in prison, you wouldn't take my calls, rehab, still nothing. Again, fuck you, you sick fucking depraved sociopath. If I outlive you, I will drop trow and shit on your headstone!

To my father:

My role in your family remains undefined, says the grown up forgotten child.

When I needed a Daddy, you needed to chase pussy. You finally divorced from my mother after dragging me around from situation to situation cheating on her for 18 years. Promising me a happy life and a loving family. You never bothered to look at the lifetime of destruction you left in your wake. Your abusive and explosive temper left it's devastation in the form of physical and emotional scars, your cruel and horrific words cut far deeper than that. I was selfish and self centered at 6? Really? You bastard, you knowingly placed blame on me and robbed me of my childhood by insisting that I grow up and accept the fact that I was never going to amount to anything. I sat at your bedside while you threatened to blow your brains out, I cried myself to sleep at night afraid that you actually would. You turned me against my mother who was equally crazy, insured me that you were going to take me somewhere that life would be better for both of us. At 7, you fucking abandoned me with family I never knew and haven't seen since. Then at 17 you fucking bailed on me completely. You left me behind. I was very sick, having surgery in the hospital when you packed all of your shit and the day I got out, you left. You fucking COWARD. 9 months without a call, no forwarding address, not a birthday or a Christmas card. 20 years later, and you've contacted me ONE TIME. Let's not forget about the 17 years of abuse, the holes in my bedroom walls and the scars on my face. Don't worry, the school nurse knows I just fell, but Daddy, why are you mad at me? You never came to see me in jail, rehab, or any hospital, you never took my calls begging for your help. You have never visited, you have never invited me to spend time with you. You and your ex wife both act like once the magic number 18 is achieved, your child is no longer existent. Fuck you. 

Not only did you make a million promises you did not keep, you left me DAD, you walked out the door and found yourself a pre-fab-family, then you forgot all about me and made them your 2nd chance! Those kids grew up loving the fact that they have 2 fathers, and now an extra grandfather to their kids. Do you ever wonder how your biological daughter feels about not having a father at all, or your biological grand daughter wondering why she has a grandfather, but he never talks to her or sees her or sends her cards on her birthday? FUCK YOU. I often wonder how my life would have been had you died from taking my penicillin instead of your percocet on the plane that day... what a convenient oversight it was for you to be having an allergic reaction in the hospital while I was running the streets of Oakland at 15. I've always had a knack for finding ways to have my kinda fun.

I made my amends and you claimed that you too had made some changes and found your own program and way of life, funny how nothing has changed for you and I, but what a great man you are today. When holidays come, use your fucking head... I don't want your fucking photographs of your family and your happy life. I don't want to hear about the wonderful family vacations you've taken with my grandmother, aunts, uncles, or cousins. I don't want to know about how much better a Dadda you are to someone else's kids, or "grand kids"... You have ONE grand daughter, you piece of shit, you didn't even bother to acknowledge her when planning for your mother's 80th birthday celebration. YOU sure as fuck don't want to hear how I struggle every day of my life with the strength to not put a bullet in my own fucking head. Yeah Daddy, just like you did when I was a little girl, I sit in the dark on the edge of my bed contemplating suicide. Thanks for the inheritance, shove it up your fucking ass. I should blow my brains out all over your dining room during your beautiful loving family's Christmas dinner!

Not Separate, Not Unequal: Human Beings in Need of Kindness and Understanding

There is no great mystery or secret behind a woman's desire for being cherished. Men equally have a need to feel admired. Women who feel cherished are more likely to be content to stay in a relationship. Yet for some reason, modern society has formed women who are put off by notion of showing admiration to a man. His sustained attraction is often fueled by whether he feels admired by her. Men, like women, often lose interest when they sense that they don't have the admiration of their cherished partner.

Women have a high regard for a faithful man. Both sexually faithful and standing behind her while she makes strides on improving her life. Similarly, men place high value on loyalty. He needs to know that you are in his corner, when life's situations become difficult, he needs the kind of woman who has his back. There is not a man or woman on earth who will forget those hardships that they had to overcome alone or without the loyal partner they needed.

Some men subscribe to the idea that certain women are to be viewed maternally and certain women are viewed sexually. They have a very difficult time reconciling the two. That is honestly no different from women who naturally find themselves attracted to men with qualities mirrored to their own fathers. 

With that said, I believe that there is a balance. One which is crucial all who have a tendency toward codependency. Being in someone's corner does not mean parenting them. Being faithful doesn't mean abandoning your professional life, friends, or hobbies. Having someone's back does not mean doing their work. Admiring or cherishing a person does not mean obsessing or becoming addicted to them, nor does it mean accepting unacceptable behavior and making excuses for anyone who treats you poorly. Fundamentally we are not entirely different, fears arise in both sexes, we both have emotional needs and insecurities. 

Our society has driven a wedge between its' people... Separating us by sex, race, religion, nationality, neighborhood, tax bracket, personal preferences, Pepsi vs. Coke, etc... Dictating to us what's natural and not natural for us to be feeling, discussing, or pursuing. It's not hard to see that we are all alike in many, many ways. 

Imagine the worldly problems we could solve if we all focus in and worked together? 

Open your eyes, wake up people, don't believe the lies.