Over Thinking Hurts my Soul

My heart hurts. My head hurts. My soul feels sick.


I do on to others as I would have others do on to me. Yet I get taken advantage of and used, taken for granted and abused. Is the solution that I must learn to discriminate as not all "others" are worthy of my doing?


I practice simple principles of kindness. If I place no expectation on any person, then I must not believe, or trust that any person is one of their word. I find myself conflicted between the concepts of belief, faith, trust, and expectation.


If I tell you that I am going to help you tomorrow at 6, you can rest assured knowing that I will show up and keep my word, and if there is an unseen circumstance, I will call and let you know. You can have the expectation that I will do as I say. In other words, you can trust me in the fact that I will show up or do the next right thing.


I have been burned so many times, I do not have that faith, trust, or belief that anyone else can be held to their word.


Everyone talks a good game, but very few people walk their talk.


Today, I need to find a defense against believing that you feel the way I feel. I am also supposed to realize that I am not unique. I am supposed to be accepting of the fact that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, that what is happening is not a moral issue, and that I am not being punished for some wrongdoings of my past. I am supposed to unlearn everything I thought I knew about me, about life, about living. I am discouraged, I am hurt, I am emotionally exhausted. I am not wanting to over think, to mentally masturbate, or to mindfuck myself here. I am overwhelmed, as I truly do not understand, I truly cannot grasp these concepts at their most rudimentary level. I need help, I need someone to hold my hand and walk me through the simple explanation that is sure to be available, like I myself do for the "others" in need.


Most days I do OK, people view me as strong and positive, helpful, loving, and a person of dignity and integrity.


Days like this I am emotionally 5 years old, I've just been dropped off at kindergarten, I am overcome by fear, and I don't know how to make myself stop wondering what is, what will be, I need to learn to be still and open my mind up to being teachable.

The Voice of Insecurity

I don't know how to allow others to get close enough for me to feel good without suspicion. As soon as I place an expectation on someone to do as they say they will, I set myself up for disappointment and pain.

I have is this voice of insecurity in my mind, the voice is my own, it tells me things like: "SUCKER, You fell for it again! You always believe people can be held up to their word." "You are such a fucking idiot, what would ever make you think such a great person would want to spend ANY time with you". "You aren't worthy of any happiness in your life". "Why would anyone want to be with you? You are ugly, fat, and worthless, your own parents want nothing to do with you". There are lots of other negative, painful thoughts that I try to suppress on a daily basis, some days I succeed and other days I can't get out of bed. On a bad day I am isolated, a prisoner of my own mind, and the weight of depression is almost suffocating. 

I overcompensate in all of my relationships with people because I know how horrible this feels and don't want to ever play a role in someone else feeling this way. I find pleasure in making others feel the way I've always wanted to feel, loved and accepted. I put so much into it, too much it seems. I bend over backwards, to manufacture excuses, over-accommodate, excessively ego stroke, emotionally care take, even alibi, but before I know it I'm alone again, depressed, disappointed, hurt, angry, and setback in my own development. For FEAR of being labeled selfish or self centered, as I have been all my life. Now, I've gone too far doing for others and not learning how to do for me. 

Naturally people identify this kindness as a weakness and take, take, take from me as long as I continue to tolerate it. That's the ugly truth behind human nature and the selfishness of others. As long as I believe that anyone is out for anyone other than themselves, I will continue to put myself in a position to be disappointed. I feel I need to accept that in the grand scheme of things, it's everyone for themselves, and if I need to be selfish, so be it. I can rely on no one but me for my own survival and the quality of my life.

Friends with Benefits?

Can we really have this sort of relationship, and not have feelings for one another?

I don't think so, personally. 

Human beings are full of fear, doubt, and insecurity.

Someone almost always inevitably gets hurt. 

Most women and many men just don't have the ability to fuck without feelings.

Let's say we can't have what we want with who we want, but we can have a small piece of it.

Do we settle for less and take it? Almost always we do and we ride the bus til the wheels fall off. 

Believe me, they DO fall off and the odds are stacked way against us. 

If we are our first choice's second choice we are doomed from the start.

Now let's say you meet someone, you become friends, agree that no relationship is to be established but sex is alright. You are free to see other people...

It's a short matter of time before jealousy, anger, insecurity enter the situation.

A dating scenario breaks off and the sex remains, this almost always leads to some sort of drama.

A situation agreed upon by consenting adults as being solely for friendship and sex, still becomes a matter where at least one participant develops feelings for the other and the hurt feelings begin.

Imagine a basic outline of your needs from a FWB.

Now imagine their outline of needs from you. 

In a perfect world when layered over light, the two images align on several key points if not all and you both live happily ever after. There is no need to be friends with benefits, after all, as the perfect couple has emerged.

Life isn't perfect, and we seem to want insurance, a feeling of security in the form of guarantees that don't exist.

Friends with Benefits is a fear-based appeal for those who aren't ready to let go of one piece of their life to pursue a new or unknown one. 

What is a Human Oxymoron?

If I were a living oxymoron, what would I be like?

I would be an egomaniac with an inferiority complex. I would appear tough, strong, in control, calm, cool, and collected, but inside I'd be crippled with fear, doubt, and insecurity. I would find pleasure in pain. I would treat the loneliness of depression with isolation. I would keep people at arms length yet become saddened that no one ever gets close to me. I would appear to be independent, yet be co-dependent to an extreme, only secure when taking care of someone else's troubles. I would want to be recognized, but not want to be watched. When I am right, all should take note, when I am wrong, all would take cover. I would hate my parents, yet desperately seek their approval. I'd be disgusted by the opposite sex, but yearning for that companionship. I would trust no one, but tell everyone everything about me. I would be Bi Polar, Passive Aggressive, Anti Social, an Addict, a Gambler, a Compulsive Blogger. If it could take the ME out of me, I would become addicted, chasing all feelings of relief or pleasure as though it were a quest for the meaning of life.

Every single part of my life would be extreme in one way or another. The thermostat would be off or on high, the volume would be off or on max, I'd take hot showers, drink cold coffee, sleep during the day, stay up all night, read books and directions backwards, I would under-mind my GPS, make lists but don't use them, my best intentions would yield the worst results. I would detest rules, break laws, resist management, oppose government, religion, politics, and the like. I would challenge any so-called experts. I would adamantly refuse conform, as it would mean becoming a sheep or a slave to today's society and agendas.

If you are wired like me, you'll understand, and if you can admit to that much, you are honest enough to be my friend.

Reason, Season, or Lifetime (NOT MY WORK)

This poem is NOT my work, I love it and I am unsure of who the author is, if anyone knows, I am grateful to know so that I may credit them properly.

Reason, Season, or Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

— Unknown

Daddy Issues

My poetry is terrible, like Dr. Seuss if he were drunk...

When You Were MY Daddy  (8 August 2010)

You loved me, you held me in your arms, and made me feel safe and secure
You told me everything was gonna be alright.
You fed me, changed me, burped me, rocked me, and sang me lullabyes
You took me places, and taught me all about things, you wanted the best for me always.
You hugged me and kissed me and fixed all by boo-boos, taught me to brush myself off and try, try again.
Day trips to amusement parks, zoos, and fairs, I have great memories of the pre school years.
I also remember some sort of fight, a long trip to DC, a flood, and being up half the night.
I knew I was safe with my Daddy though, not a worry in my heart nothing I needed to know.
The Smithsonian, Fonzie's jacket and boots,  Abe Lincoln, the Capitol, the Country's roots
For those first six years it was all you and me, I was Daddy's little girl the way life should be.
Like a clap of thunder, it came to an end. Neither of us saw what was around the bend.

In the 7th year, due to a troubled union, you sent me away for a family reunion.
My Mom's family, they were strangers to me, I chased you a tenth of a mile before I ripped up my knee.
I was hurt, confused, angry and sad... when you left me and drove off while I screamed for my Dad.
The image burned into my brain, I was screaming hysterically, I felt intense burning pain.
My heart and my gut felt the same, my Daddy had already forgotten my name.
I had nightmares, I relived it for years and years,  nothing could fix it or dry my tears.

When I returned home things had certainly changed, Trust was an issue, we'd become estranged.
Walking in from school when I WAS SEVEN, to find Daddy wishing to go to heaven.
"I'll Blow my brains out", those were the words that you used. Blaming it all on you being abused.
I recognize your efforts, you tried to fix what was missing, you coached my baseball team, and took me Fishing,
The irrepairable damage had already been done, things fell apart, I was overun
For years you felt the distance of us growing further apart, you child was suffering from a broken heart

That firey rage filled my gut every day. A relief seeking missle, had gone astray.
The day in the church yard when the fuse had been lit, those silly boys didn't know what hit.
I couldn't stop and that was frightening, my temper was fierce and as quick as lightning.
I remember horrendous words spewing out of my mouth, at that point I knew I was headed South.
In a moment I froze, fearing GOD's wrath from the sky. I even thought I was gonna die.
When nothing happened, it was a load of crap.  All faith was lost and I felt like a sap.
Missing the trust fueled my anger some more, I didn't feel safe or loved or secure.
I became enraged, self seeking, willful, and violent. When given guidance I was always defiant.
As I went spiraling out of control, your psychology degrees were lost in a hole
And that winter I tried to take my own life, 7 years old with a butcher knife,
My mother wouldn't discuss it, she was ashamed, the neighbors would hear and she might get blamed.
I needed real help and you were the shrink, it wasn't hard to see me headed straight for the drink.

You lost sight of me, your own flesh and blood, your poor little girl, her emotions a flood.
You screamed and swore and smashed things up. I couldn't cope, I was all fucked up.
I ran away to the woods. hid under the cellar stairs,  The tension was high and so were my fears
We didn't relate like we did from the start, we continued to drift further and further apart.
The disease of addiction was in full bloom. My values were lost, my future felt doomed.
Relief came in the form of "more" at that time, food, physical pain, drugs, booze, sex, and crime.
You became enraged, disgusted with me, the feeling was mutual but you couldn't see.
You beat me to death with the sick things you said, with your hands you branded it into my head.
I was 15 when you got sick on board that plane, Dad. I switched the pills that you "accidently" had.
I wanted your life to come to an end. You had failed me as a father. There were no amends.
I had issues with DADDY with TRUST and with RAGE. I knew that we'd NEVER be on the same page.

I was hospitalized, locked up, I was sick, and arrested, I wouldn't slow down, every limit was tested.
So you left me again with no second glances, and found a prefab family with 3 young, 2nd chances.
A step dad, today even a grampa, without any anger. My daughter is your blood and you are a stranger.

When You Were MY Daddy
You loved me, you held me in your arms, and made me feel safe and secure
You told me everything was gonna be alright. I just wanted my Daddy back in my life.

Loving, Living, Letting Go

I have been in love ONE TIME, with ONE MAN. Yet we were never together.
I wanted to be in the presence of this man since as far back as I can remember knowing him.
He was as individual as I ever thought I was at that time. Mysterious in ways that intrigued me.
I wanted desperately for him to talk to me, eventually he did and we became the closest of friends.
I never had the nerve to say what I was feeling, yet I was content in being there in whatever it was.
I felt SAFE in his arms, (no one had I TRUSTED before). I chased these feelings like a drug for 25 years.
I loved this man and wanted him to love me back. I couldn't speak of it, I was terrified, I couldn't face rejection, and I was sure he had better prospects. I remained paralyzed in that fear for a lifetime.
I settled for less, repeatedly.  No man was ever as kind, as gentle, as honest, as real, as intelligent, or as responsible as he was.
Today he is sick, suffering from the depression, anger, and antisocial issues that this disease provides.
I see him and my heart hurts, it angers me to see THE man who ALWAYS helped me make the right decisions, not be available to himself for the same advice. I want to SAVE him, I want to FIX him. I want to cry out to him, tell him I love him, and give him a reason to want to get better.
He was my first love, he was my best friend, and I felt that he was my soul mate. His soul is like a message in a bottle, floating in a sea of alcohol and barely a fleeting thought to him right now. I loved this man with the patience and conviction that a wife would have had.
Today I can see that we did share something special, I did fit in with him, we were two cut from the same cloth, birds of a feather, two sickies that would have never made a wellie.
Today, my love for him is the love that I have of a sick and suffering alcoholic. I will never forget how much he means to me and I will pray to God that he finds his way to recovery.