The Snap Back

The worst time of the day for me is right now. The middle of the night. This is the time of day when the world goes silent, & then the thoughts become so much louder. And that’s what I fear most. Because nobody will ever hate me more than I do, and I’m not afraid to let myself know that.

A lot of things I’ve done in the past were done with good intentions. Of course, we all know that’s what the road to Hell is paved with. Lord knows so much of that path has been laid by me alone.

I have this thing I do where I try not to fight with people, because I’d just rather they get their way and be happy. Because in comparison, my happiness is trivial, as I become happy when they’re happy. Only problem with that is, I suppress my real feelings and it all lies dormant until it explodes. And by explodes, I mean I start saying hateful shit to people I care about. Things I truly do not mean, but also things that cannot be taken back once they’re uttered.

I go into self-sabotage mode, and start destroying everything I care about, and severing all ties to anything that could be good for me. Who tf does that? Broken little boys, that’s who. Good news is, I’ve recognized the problem & over the course of time, I’m correcting it. Slow and steady wins the race, as it’s not a problem that will be fixed overnight.

Bad news, I’ve destroyed any chance of anyone ever giving a fuck about me in the process. And before all my friends start going, “I care about you,” you fuck heads know what I mean. So what’s the point of even fixing it then? And therein lies the conundrum.

It’s almost like I’m living in a carnival, hoping to win a prize. What am I going to win? A giant stuffed animal? A goldfish in a bag that’s going to die and leave me too? It’s all part of the mystery.

Used to be – a hundred years ago – y’know, any moron could kinda wander into the woods and look behind a rock or some shit and discover some cool new thing, y’know? Not anymore. Where’s the mystery that makes everything worthwhile? We crave mystery, ’cause there’s none left.

What did that last part mean? Fuck if I know. It’s all a big ass circus in my head. A real shit show to even myself. If you listen closely, off in the distance through my ear drum, you’ll hear, “Doo Doo do da do do…..” Fucking clown shoes. And I’ll leave it at that. Doesn’t make sense to you? Me neither.

Everything Hurts

Life. Not that long ago, it all seemed super simple. We took soooo many things for granted because we could. There were soooo many doors for us to chose from to open. But as we get older, the number of doors decreases. Some just lock altogether.

The burden I carry daily is a lot. But I do so knowingly. It’s gets tiresome. Recently, I had a multitude of things happened in a 24-hour time frame. The last being my t.v. going out. And everyone thought I was losing my shit over a t.v. Granted, that was the nail in the coffin, but certainly not the entirety on my problems. Hell, if a t.v. going out was the worst of my problems, I’d consider it a good day. But I digress.

I just usually do so much worrying between work and home, that it seems like that’s all there is. Worry. And by the time anyone reaches out, I’ve usually sealed out the fireproof door that leads to Fonty, so no one else gets scorched in the process. I used to open up, but was always met with, “That sucks” followed by silence. Or someone asking what’s up, then responding with deafening silence. That’s the worst, I think. Thinking someone cares, only to realize not an actual fuck is given in regards to yourself.

And then the enemy comes. My worst enemy. My own thoughts. I just wanna move forward and get past whatever is going on at the moment, and then the “Remember when’s” start. Reminding you of all of life’s little mistakes you’ve made, wishing for things/people that you can no longer have.

Everyone moves forward to bright futures with greener pastures, but my thoughts anchor me down, and have me running in place. I really never need an enemy in this life, as I have myself. And fuck that guy.

I don’t know. I’m just sad of being sad all the time. I just want someone to choose me. But no one ever does. And if they do, they discard me shortly thereafter. Can’t blame them there, though. I’m a miserable fuck sometimes. I’d leave me too, if I could.

And before anyone starts with the “Jesus Loves You” nonsense, let’s just end that. I think it’s clear that’s not a thing. That’s not blasphemy, that’s just truth. I’d welcome the help. But sadly, he is nowhere to be found. The footprints in the sand are mine and mine alone.

Or that could just be me being hateful again. Hell I can’t even tell anymore. Be well, friends. Take care of your loved ones. It’s a greater gift than you’ll ever know. Because when it’s absent from your life, that absence becomes the only thing that seems present. If that makes any sense.

The Old Me

For the longest, I just didn’t understand why I was all alone all the time. Like people don’t even want to hang out anymore. Was talking the other night with someone, who shall remain nameless, & they were like, “Are you lookin’ for an answer you want? Or the truth?” So I responded with the truth. Because the things you may not want to hear isn’t necessarily the things you wanna hear.

So they go, “You’re honestly just a miserable fuck to be around anymore. I miss the old you.” Damn. I did ask for the truth, but fuuuuuuck. So I said, “Thanks, I guess.” And that was the end of that conversation. But it got me to thinking? When did I become this miserable fuck?

Once I started doing the math in my head, it all made sense. When I developed depression. And everyone bolted. Not everyone, but a lot did. It was like everybody saw me sick, and it felt like no gave shit. Which just further plunges one into their depression. Man, what a fun game this is. #Sarcasm

Some of the strongest support was kind of surprising, as it came from the most unexpected people. Same with the shunning. A lot of that came from people who had been with me through some shit, but now suddenly had better shit to do. Can’t fault them for that, though. Hell, I don’t like being around me most days. But I digress.

The days one’s, well they’re day one’s for a reason. But I did learn I had a couple of new day ones. That’s always a plus. However, the “I miss the old you,” was really fucking with me. Guess what? I do, too. But we don’t get to choose how our depression affects us.

I’m sorry I’m not funny enough. I’m sorry not lovable enough. I’m sorry I’m not cool enough. I’m sorry I’m not…..enough. I tend to push people away. It’s a shitty defense mechanism that this shank model came equipped with. But man, that’s about the only thing that works on this old bucket of bolts anymore.

I look at my phone each month and the amount of texts blow my mind, as they’re mostly sent texts. Like, I’m undeserving of responses anymore. It’s kind of fucked up, but fair enough. I was definitely no saint, and have burnt my fair share of bridges in my day.

Back to the photo at the beginning of this blog. May quite possibly be the truest meme I’ve posted. Remember when people throw the word “Forever” at you. Because they sure the fuck won’t. And take care of your mental health. Cuz that shit will unknowingly deteriorate on you.

I’ll leave it at this? You miss me. I do too. I’d just go back to that if I could for you all. Hell, it’d be for me too. But sadly shit don’t work like that. So I’m sorry I got sick. And it was too much for y’all. To those who never faultered, I place no one above y’all. Be well.

Hate me for who I am. Don’t love me for something I’m not.

That sentence is going to shape my life. It’s meaning is many, but the main points being that I won’t change for anyone, I won’t try to over impress, and I won’t allow myself to be labeled… This isn’t about that sentence for the reason being I don’t believe it can, nor needs to be explained beyond it.

7:00 A.M. I’m sitting here immersed in solitude. I look out the window peering into a scene of beauty. It’s magical. The sky is tossing sunlight around. Just when I think I’ve learned it’s pattern of movement, it changes. I see the most beautiful group of birds. They are happy, content and not fazed by the sun rays which have to be blinding them. The birdhouse hanging from the tree outside my window which they’ve set themselves upon is undisturbed and calm.

I have it all this morning. Beauty to the eyes as well as the ears.

I am content, happy, and yet unsettled. With this sun which I see as beauty, lays a sense of danger. My soul still feels unsafe, thus making a trip anywhere today impossible. Many people would view this as being a prisoner to their home. Not me. I see this as my whole day being opened up for me to do with it what I please. Though I won’t.

It’s quite amazing what can lay beyond a window and the concept behind it. What is a window there for? To seperate yet provide a view out. What lay beyond mine is amazing to me. Such simplicity yet complexity from the same view.

Sad And I Don’t Wanna Be

Today is a day when nothing is wrong, but I’m sad. I hate that I feel this way. The feeling of being nothing, looking back at the path of destruction that is called my life. I just feel like an anchor in everyone’s life. Just bringing them down by association.

In the past month, I’ve had a long term friend delete FB quietly, and not say a word. Cementing the fact that I’m completely fucking not worthy of a, “Hey buddy, this is going down,” after years of friendship. I’m that fucking replaceable.

Works been a real dumpster fire. Everyone hates their jobs, and I get it, but the 70-hr weeks are just taking it’s toll on my 42-year old body. As well as my mental. And that’s the shit I worry about most. The body will do what I tell it to.

I just want what everyone else has. Happiness. Even if for only a fleeting moment. I want a smile. I want people to want to be around me. Not just be known as the miserable fuck that I’ve become to be known for being.

I just want everyone to be happy. And I know that doesn’t seem legit coming from me. I gave someone my last $20 this week. Why? Because I wanted to. They weren’t in dire need, but I had it and could do it, so why not? My bills are paid, my fridge is full, anything else is just icing on the cake. So I iced someone else’s cake.

I just wanna let go and be happy. But I can’t. I love people who don’t love me back. I put effort into the wrong friendships/relationships in my life, and wonder why the shit ends badly. I swear sometimes it’s like I do it to myself. I’ve conditioned myself to hate myself and make me unhappy by any means necessary. How fucked up is that? That’s me for ya, I guess.

If you read this, sorry for wasting your time. Thanks for caring enough to, though. One day, I’ll be less of a miserable fuck for you guys. I promise. I’m trying for that. Baby steps. Fuck you.

The Burden of Unburdening

Greetings, peeps. Shakespeare once wrote, “Uneasy is the head that wears a crown.” That ain’t no shit. I’ve made so new friends lately. One in particular thinks a little too highly of me, IMO. So I told them about me. The good. Which further put me on a higher pedestal with said person. So I let them know the bad, too. Trying to live life a little cleaner these days. A little more honestly.

I don’t think they were ready for that. I thought I was, too. You know they whole “let it out to let it go” thing. Turns out neither of us were ready. I said some things out loud that I haven’t before. And I thought I’d feel better afterwards. I didn’t. I don’t. Just reminded me of the scumbag that I truly was. That deep down, I truly am.

And it’s been bothering me. I never wanna be seen as “clean”, cuz Lord knows I’ve done dirt. But I think I dirtied myself too much for the other person. And I can’t be mad. I consciously made the decision to let the gums fly, and I said what I said. So I can’t in any right be mad. Probably just should’ve kept that shit to myself.

But I really thought it would humanize me, to myself as well as to the other party. The thing I did was wake up the self-loathing that I thought had gone, but instead lied dormant. I said it before, I’ll say it again. No one will ever hate me as much as I do.

Yoko Ono once said, “Take forgiveness slowly. Don’t blame yourself for being slow. Peace will come.” One day. But not today. I hate that I hate me. But I can’t love me, either. And now I get why no one does. Ugh Till next time….

Tears are words that need to be written

I am sorry you are hurt.

The reason I am writing this blog post is because I too am hurt. Hurt from many things. And all alone. No one will know my tears. But I suppose there’s someone out there – like you – who is like me right now. Sad. And if you are like me, perhaps you feel like there is no one there to see your tears and feel your heart lurching. Maybe you need me as much as I need you right now.

I’m sorry I’m not good at comforting you.

I wish I could read your heart.

Well – I suppose no one can read another person’s heart.

But I could imagine. And my story may be different from your’s but I feel. And you feel. And maybe that’s all what two separate souls need from this world.

From just one soul. In this world.

I wish I knew all the answers. And maybe you stumbled here in search for those answers.

I’m sorry to disappoint. I hardly know the answers for you as much as I know for me.

I just want someone’s soul – even an echo of a soul, hardly there —- here. So thank you. Truly. For finding your way here.

Somehow – You found your way here.

Forever.

Thank you.

From me to you. I hope to see you again, my friend.

And I hope you see me. Cuz I certainly don’t anymore.

The Blade That’s The Sharpest

The blade that is the sharpest, that cuts me the most, is the one made up of my own faults, bad deeds, and insecurities. And that bitch is sharp. I have few friends, and even fewer enemies. But who needs enemies when I have myself.

I’m the epitome of self-destruction. Had love, ruined it. Basically made myself umlovable. All my exes can attest to that. “It’s not you, it’s me.” No, it’s me. It’s always been me. Had lots of friends at one point. But, they could only put up with so much of my bullshit. The ones that are with me now, metaphorically not physically, are real ride or die’s. They’ve seen my worst and still stayed. Fuckin’ champs. The whole lot of them.

I used to be fun. Fun to be around even. Then, after all the kicks I could take in life, clinical depression struck. And I’ve been fighting the battle against myself whilst dealing with the every day struggles of life. Most people don’t know, because I smile. I eat the shit sandwiches handed to me daily, and make everything work. Because that’s all I really want. Is for everyone to be happy, even if it means I don’t get to.

All this fakin’ it, pretending, or all the self-destruction has done nothing but sharpen the blades that stabs at my heart. Or the one that lays on my wrist. But sometime the pain is the only reminder that I’m still here, seeing as I’m dead to everyone else. It’s really sad knowing that my end will come at my own hand. And it will, sadly.

This isn’t a “Woe Is Fonty” post. These are the things that go on in my head. These are the reasons I’ll never be loved. These are the reasons I hate myself. These are the reasons….

The Things We Take For Granted

The ability to walk. The ability to hold your own stuff, i.e. forks, knives, spoons, a cigarette if you’re a smoker. Simple tasks. Tasks we learn. Tasks we perform daily. Tasks we take for granted.

I’m slowly watching my mother lose these and it breaks my heart. She’s had to endure so much in life: addiction, the loss of a sister, the loss of both parents, the loss of her two best friends. Her circle was always small, and nowadays, it’s damn near nonexistent.

I always credit my son’s mother with giving me my son. And I’m forever grateful for that. But she also gave me my mother back. Mom was on a real dark path. The birth of Austin put her back on course. Not fully, but then my sister gave birth to my nephew Jared, and suddenly mom’s heart was full. She had purpose again.

I love how my mom is with the boys. Back when I was younger, I was almost angry about it, because they were getting a version of her I never got. Sober, attentive, present. But then I realized she was giving them pure joy. And vice versa. The way she looks at them, and they look back with the same love and compassion, it’s like watching the genesis of world’s colliding. Like having a front row seat for the Big Bang theory. All the colors of my whole world.

These days, those moments are far and few. Almost nonexistent. She’s reverting back to a state of which we come into this life as. Can’t walk, getting hard sometimes for her to talk, can’t do basic things. I wish I could give her my ability to walk, to talk.

I watch her dwindle away daily. All I want is for her to be o.k. To NOT hurt. And I would give my abilities if I could. I watch her wither daily, and I can’t stop it. You ever watch your favorite person die a little each day? It takes a little of me each day. To be completely helpless.

This is not a woe is Fonty post. This is a get it off my chest post. So today kids, if possible, hug your mom. Let her know she’s appreciated. Because you may not have too many chances left to. I love you all. Thanks for reading. Listening. Being along for the ride with me.

P.S. To anyone who ever did anything for me throughout my life, who has blessed with your friendship, or whoever gave me love, it was appreciated. Maybe not at the time when it should have been, but the last couple of years have been a real eye opener. More so the last 6 months. I’m sorry if I slighted anyone in this life. I never meant to cause any hurt in this life, yet I walked over bridges & lit a match behind me as I went. I understand now the deep connections I made, that I also destroyed those same connections due to either my low inner self-worth or just straight up selfishness. It’s really true what they say. Don’t know what you got, till it’s gone.

Reflection Is The Worst

Reflection is the worst. Sure it’s nice to reminisce about the “good ol days”, only sometimes you remember the “bad ol days” as well. You get to see how much you’ve grown, yet the bad shit you did, you did that shit. So you may have come far in life, but you can never get away from your beginnings.

I say all this because someone recently told me that I’ve grown a bit. And that they were proud of me. For what? For doing what I’m supposed to? For being a little less of an asshole than usual on that particular day? Because that’s all it is. I was caught on a good day, at a good moment in time.

What cracks me up is the people who actually like me. And I use the term like because I don’t think anyone loves me. And that’s on me. I make it hard as fuck sometimes. But I have friends who truly like me, and that’s more than I can ask for in this life, considering the destruction I left in my wake. So I’ll take a “likeday of the week.

I heard a song this week that hit hard. It was about one not loving one’s self. And I don’t. But I just wanna be in the majority, and not the minority. And that majority is not a fan. But the minority is the group that always shows their support and I am eternally grateful for them.

But I digress. I just wanna love me. And I want someone to love me. But that’s not in the cards for me. I chase everyone away. And I get brave and say “I love you” to someone, and the response given is *crickets*. Again, I get it. But people will never hate me as much I do.

I have this image of myself as likable. But it’s just a new car smell. It’s funny and a breath of fresh air at first. Operative words in that sentence being “at first”. But just like a new car smell, it wears off. And when you have clinical depression, it’s hard to “keep your head up”. Or to “think positive”. I wish it were that easy.

And that shit is hard for people to wanna be around. And I can’t get mad at anyone for that. Hell, I’d be out if I could. Sadly, not an option for me. But the best part is when someone tells me to just “stop being sad”. LOF’NL Why didn’t I think of that?

And it hurts when family thinks I am doing this to be noticed. Nobody notices me anymore, and hasn’t for a while now. So why do I want those people to notice me? Hell, most days I just want left alone. Left alone, and wanted to be noticed and loved at the same time. Figure that one out and get back to me. Lol But the ones who are supposed to forever have your back, your family, always seem too busy, or just over my shit in general. Me too, peeps. Me too.

So do I wanna look back fondly and reflect? Of course I do. The question becomes is there anything to look back fondly on? And that people, is the Million dollar question.

So before anyone starts with the “Why the depressing blog post?” questions, it’s something I do as a release. Because if I don’t get this shot out when I’m feeling this way, then the only thing I wanna release is the blood from my veins via a razor. So that’s why.

If you’re still ready after all this incessant babbling, then I thank you. For caring enough to not tune out. I love you all, and I’ll leave you with this:

Death by 1000 cuts refers to an ancient method of torture in which numerous small cuts were made on a victim’s body. None of the cuts were deadly by themselves, but the combination of them would cause them to die a slow, painful death. In psychology, it refers to small issues that are overlooked until they add up to something too big to ignore. Sometimes I question which version of the phrase is worse.