The thing I miss most about me…
Entry 12/08/2012 07:19:29 PM – Mentat 671
“Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children.” – George Bernard Shaw
It’s been quite the day gallivanting all over two-states running chores and what have you with my mother. During one of the longer stints in the car — not because of the distance, but instead because of the amount of insane people trying to do their Christmas Shopping — I was reminded that it has been a long time since I’ve tried to write anything substantial or even qualitative. Part of the reason is because I’ve been sort of dead inside. Not because of the humdrum or the day-to-day living that I’ve done, but instead because of the amount of anger and rage that I’ve had since moving out from the deadbeat that still lives next door. Part of the reason has been because of the chaos that I’ve had to deal with from one human being that I didn’t think would effect me in the way that he had, and then trying my damndest to bury the chaos and return to the semblance of peace that I’ve become accustomed to. And finally, part of the reason is because I’ve been doing everything in my power to avoid being me.
Strange thing that. I’ve hardly been able to escape me in the four plus (almost five) decades that I’ve been wandering around the planet. Even in my moments of attempting to delude and/or fool the world — there had been a strong part of me that was there either staring out at me in the mirror or around at the world going on around me. And yet, now… It’s been a blank. A wall somewhere between the center that I’ve been used to being near and the man that I am right now. It’s not always a blank wall. Sometimes it’s a wall of unbridled fury. The fury that comes from being betrayed, and used, and even stolen from (be it in fact, or even in feeling). Sometimes it’s a noise: the sort of noise that comes from something going round and round until it sounds either like a cacophony or white noise, but neither one nor another.
And no matter for me just how far I tried to run away (from self, from whatever’s eating me, from even the responsibilities that come with this life): how far into the world of denial (either to the world or self-denial), there’s always been a part of me that absolutely, positively refused to wander out of the realm of reality and into the Netherrealm of delusion. But that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t try to get as close as insanely possible.
So as I was sitting there on Route 1 in Attleboro — either on the way to or from GI Joe’s — and talking about nothing in particular and what it was that I wanted to do when I got home from shopping, I realized that the thing that I missed most wasn’t my actually sitting down and writing. It’s the peace that I used to get sorting my thoughts out into written words and for those moments (and the time before I eventually went to bed to sleep the wild and borderline insane dreams I call “normal”), having a sort of peaceful calm not to mention making of the chaotic jumble of flotsam and random thoughts that life often throws in our directions.
I realize that it’s extremely hard to find that peace when one is doing everything in their power to avoid everything else that seems to be between where I am now, and where I want to be by the end of a journal entry. I admit that I find myself blaming my ADD entirely too quickly. The thing is though I’ve had ADD for the better part of 20 years and comparing it now with when I first started feeling its effects after the grand mal seizures stopped, it’s far more manageable now than it was at the end of my relationship with Darin. And I know it’s not from the extended periods of anger and betrayal of living with the deadbeat. Sure at the time of the betrayal was the sort of frightening that I had the time that Eric (aka the First Asshole), but the same amount of time has passed (more actually) and while I did go through the emotional crash that happens afterward (stories there, but for another time), I’m on the other side and… well… This is just a shade different.
Perhaps it’s because I’m older. Perhaps it’s because with age, I don’t bounce back quite like I used to. Perhaps it’s even because the environment is different. I mean sure back then — like now — I’m living on my own. But the difference between now and then is that I’m more reclusive: a thousand times more reclusive. Not to mention that I don’t quite have the same support system then I as do now. I mean sure, I have family — and they’re certainly more supportive now than then — but I don’t have a tenth of the friends in the area (as a great majority of them are scattered all over the world). Not to mention that my approach to dating is a million times more discriminating.
Sitting here going from one show that I’ve been watching to another and in between writing parts of this entry — I realize that I need to make due with what I have to the best of my ability. Not so much as to try to recreate the environment that I once had in the efforts to heal/salve the hurts and or pains that I’m currently going through, but instead, “…to bend like a reed in the wind…” and accept what I have in the here and now to heal/recover/salve/whatever is needed to being less of a runner, and more of a fighter. Well at least fighting without the want to throttling the life out of users and thieves and pathological liars (or in the deadbeat’s case, all of the above).
Anyway, I think I’ll come back to write a bit more on this tomorrow. Right now, I think I’m going to finish up watching another show (Haven) and then head to bed. I’ll be back.
[Last Edited: 12/09/2012 08:12:45 PM]
Back for the moment, and feeling a bit more at peace with some of the admissions that I had made yesterday. Though for a while this morning I was feeling pretty vulnerable. Part of the reason was because of the dementedly weird dreams that I had after a bit of soul searching last night (can’t remember them at the moment, and not going to really try to remember at this time of night). Part of the reason because this morning I was hitting at least five different tangents at once. While I did pretty well sitting at my mother’s place while having dinner and having Toy Hunter on the television, I found myself getting seriously annoyed listening to the over-acting of the host. Seriously I couldn’t tell what was worse… Listening to the inaccuracies or the way people were seriously stupid about what collectibles (and how much they were worth) they had in their hands. Seeing shows like this, I’m reminded how much of a desolate wasteland television has become and makes me wonder whether it’s going to take another decade before Hollywood and Television Stations realize that their “reality television” took the last exit from reality back at the turn of the 21st century.
I have quite a bit to think about the next couple of weeks. While I might try to put this down as a New Year’s Resolution for 2013, I realize as I think this in my head that I should start working on it as soon as possible. If not because there’s some of time constraint. No, instead it has everything to do with the less I push it off, the less likely I am to try to glaze it over and forget about it until some other time. And this is something that should be faced in the here and now. Not in the tomorrow, and certainly not for any regrets coming up when I look back at yesterday.
This time I’m off… A little gaming, a little movie watching, and a little music before I pass out in bed later on. Until the next time.