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.
Today is a day when nothing is wrong, butI’m sad. I hate that I feel this way. The feeling of being nothing, looking back at thepath 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.
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. Thething 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….
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.
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 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 everyday 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’ta “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 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 realdark 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 givemy abilities if I could. I watch her wither daily, and I can’t stopit. 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 getit 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 Iwalked 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. Sure it’s nice to reminisce about the “goodol 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 “like” day of the week.
I heard a song this week thathit 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 airat 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 bearound. 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 lookback fondly and reflect? Of course I do. The question becomes is there anything to look back fondlyon? 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.
How I feel today can be best described as…. nonexistent. Numb. Cold. With no end in sight to any of the above stated feelings. Everyone just always says, “Well, just think positive.” Tried that too.And it worked for a while. But then everything went to shit again. Sometimes, I swear I’m a negativity magnet. Just the center for all things that suck to navigate towards.
And if Ididn’t have the bestest of friends, and a few family members that truly gave shit, I would’ve been out of here years ago. But that feels too much like quitting. But this way that I feel, the constant emptiness, the constant loneliness, it has to quit. Or I’m gonna have to make it quit. I can’t continue this way. But again, no end in sight to these feelings.
I reach out, and the people that respond just seem like their sick of my bullshit. And I can’t blame them. I’m pretty sick of me these days, too. And then there’s all the ones that don’t answer. Who are the same ones to claim to want to be there when “things get tough.” Or to be there “forever”. Or use the word “Always.” Because those words are bullshit. Because people have to watch out for their own. And I get that. Just really sad that I’m never in the category of anyone’s own.
There’s noreal point to this blog, just a release of a little bit of thebad feelings, I guess. Wanting someone to give a fuck when there is no onewho wants to give a fuck. And as much as it sounds like one, this is not a “Woe Is Fonty” post. I know it’smostly the depressiontalkingand some others are worse off. This is just how I feel today.
Otis Redding said it bestin the words of his song Sittin’ On The Dock Of The Bay.
Most days when I smile, there’s still an everlasting sadness hidden underneath. A constant feeling of sadness. An everflowing faucet, constantly serving up rivers of unhappiness on levels that even I don’t understand.
Most days, I wanna be the reason for someone’s smile. Instead, I end up being the reason for people’s frown’s. And who tf wants that? Who wants to the anchor in all their friends lives, consistently bringing them down just because you’re down? The answer is nobody.
But somehow, the sadness faucet always flows. Even on my happiest of days, the faucet comes to a slow, steady drip, but never to a full stop. So in the midst of my happiest days, sadness looms. Just waiting for it’s chance to ruin the day.
So how do I get myself better? I don’t. Just push the shit down, & keep it going, as to not fuck up anyone else’s day, which I still end up usually doing. I just wanna be happy.
So many deaths recently, so much quarantine, so much loneliness, the depression just fueled itself. I stopped talking topeople. I said things I thought was funny, that others clearly did not. And I should’ve known better. But somewhere, deep down, the depression monster flipped the self-sabotage switch. And I went full Fonty.
I swear, sometimes I’m like a teenager. Emotionally. Unable to deal, can’t really process, so I just toss the issuesaside. Never dealt with. Just laying in wait to strike. I don’t know. Just really sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Tell the carney to stop the ride. I want to get off. It’s not funhere no more. I no longer wanna play. Some of my favorite people reach, I don’t respond. Not because I don’t want to speak to them, but because I don’t want my shit to spill out ontothem.
And the one’s I do let close, I feel bad for them. Because they have to deal with me. But selfishly I don’t keep them at bay, because I can’t. For my own selfish reasons. To keep me happy.
I don’t wanna be around me, and I don’t understand, can’t comprehend, why others would wish to. One day this will all goaway for good. The sooner, the better.
This sucks. The most. The worst thing about sudden loss is the lack of closure. Wish I just hear him say something. Anything. I’d settle for a “you’re fired”. I hate the I never came to grips with how much of a friend, a second dad, how much more than a boss he was.
You would think by now, I’d be use to loss. Cuz everyone leaves. Friends, lovers, whatever. Everyone leaves. But again, the sudden loss. It leaves hurt. Leaves all the unsaid things. The shoulda, coulda, woulda’s.
Me and Jay fought like cats and dogs. But we would also do shit I don’t do with anyone else, like have meals. I eat with friends occasionally, but never consistently. Italk to people, but never daily. But Jay and I talked daily.
And that bothers me the most. Not that fact that he didn’t tell me something was wrong with him, that anything was wrong with him. Just the fact that I guess he felt that he couldn’t tell me anything.
But I’ve always been thatguy. The only nobody wants to confide in. The one people would rather dip away from, then lean into for support. I don’t know. I’m shattered. This hurts.
Jay was like a second dad to me at times. My dad even said so. Ha! But seriously, dad even noticed the impact Jay had on me. It hit him a little because he spoke to Jay so frequently. The world truly took a hit with this one.
Because underneath the hardcore exterior was a caring manwho loved his family, loved his employees, loved his friends. He wouldact like the toughest guy from time to time, but in the position he was in, owning a company, he had to be hard. He had to let people know he wasn’t one that could be walked over. And I get it.
I hate that I didn’t tell him I get it. I didn’t tell him thank you. For being there for all the stuff no one knows about. For being the good guy in a world full of asshole. Thank you. And now I can say is goodbye. Goodbye, my friend. I hope the afterlife treats you as well as you treated so many of us here on this earth.