So, the only reason I'm posting this from my facebook is because I had a strange random desire to access my SG site, for no reason at all, like I wasn't responding to a friend request.
So it's been a bit since I've really taken an analysis of myself to the light of the world. Another story of destruction and retribution. Another moment to humble myself, to see myself for what I am, and always will be. Another fight against myself, slowly destroying piece after piece until I crouch down with red tape and bandage it all up again. Stand up, and take a few more steps forward.
I should have been job hunting all week, but I ended up only posting resumes around on one day. And not even promising places, places that may appear to be looking next month. Instead, I sat around, sat in this intense lonely feeling. A failure to interact with people, even my friends. I'd go out and have a couple laughs, but only with an inappropriate level of alcohol coursing through my veins.
Allow me to expand.
My last writing showed that I yet again had to battle a darkness I carry. The alcoholic had a decent fix on me, as I burned through my wallet in attempts to be able to release some form of humanity. Bypassing the beer, straight to scotch. Night after night, completely failing to link with people. All people, old friends of mine. I used to be the light of the party, many of you who read this may know that of me. But I would be out with these friends, and completely quiet, another bundle of mass taking up space in a chair, devouring scotch like a black hole. Eventually, I'd add a joke or just a laugh. A few rounds later, maybe even a song. I met up with an old friend during this time period, hoping that i could somehow grasp the lighthearted person I know exists somewhere within me. And I completely failed, to the point where I got called a retard by them, the person I went out to meet up with.
So then I got together with people who share a very particular part of my past with, though not directly. I went out with them, hoping, yet again, that maybe this related past could reopen myself. On the way from my car to the bar, someone crossed the street and ended up walking behind me. I couldn't stop it, just could not control myself. Engage paranoid mind. Here's the break down. Judging from shadows and quick glimpses at the window reflections, about four maybe five paces behind me. Hands in hoodie pockets, sagging, this guy is not the most sure of himself person out tonight. No head cover, dark hair. Maybe 5'8, but not a strong build, judging by the weight in his steps. He's a righty, texting with his right hand. Each step I take I'm judging best course of action in case of emergency. Watch the steps, check for alleyways. Tense up. 100 feet from the bar. I would hear about two heavy rapid steps before a quick step to the right, seeing as how his right arm would be reaching for either me or something else. Quick 180 with arm raised, elbow bent, left hand slightly raised with exposed palm, ready for anything to follow. Got to the bar, opened the door to see this man face to face, he steps into the bar, pulling his ID out of his hoodie pocket for the bouncer to inspect. It was nothing, just another guy doing exactly what I'm doing. Well, not exactly.
Moving on.
And, yet again, quiet, couple drinks, jokes, couple drinks, song. But nothing else. The drive home was way too long, dark, lonely. Scary at every turn, expecting some drunk to barrel through a red light. Or that a tire would explode somewhere, anything that would land me in the hospital. Not that I wanted it, I was just expecting it. This, coupled with the walk to the bar... why am I doing this again? A couple of my Fort Hood friends recall when I was constantly threatened, couldn't be comfortable at a club. Why is this returning? Surrounded by friends, at that? Why is it my fellow soldiers can't link me back to humanity?
By the time I got home, I was literally tearing up. I'm not sure if you could consider it crying, but my eyes weren't dry. Went in feeling alone again. Felt like grabbing my personal bottle of scotch. Instead, I came to the computer. I wrote a short version of my mentality, then I found myself going to my email, copy paste, and added an address. I probably stared at the address I entered for ten minutes. I just couldn't believe what I was doing, telling someone how I don't feel human? And this person? With our history? On some levels, it made sense, but from the outside looking in, it was completely confusing. Stepped outside, smoked a cigarette, came back in, clicked send. Then I went to bed.
I was feeling a bit better, having let it all out. I just wanted to get some rest and hope for the best when I wake up. I slept in that morning straight until two pm. Really shouldn't be, but it felt needed. But then something happened... I had a reply email. They actually replied to it, and spoke on a level that showed a true understanding. And on top of that, they gave it a name. The Monster. No longer my old term for it, the demon, it's the monster. A demon tempts you to do something. A monster just does it without approval.
It's true, when we talk with people, we bring up certain things, more personal little by little until you finally reach a point where they're responses seem pre-written. And that's when you stop. You don't push any further, and you realize that you'll never be any more personal with them. For me, I admit I do have problems even starting the process, and find that most people who say they can relate to my monster really can't. They have, granted, issues which I respect, and i can usually communicate small portions of my mentality with them. But what these people seem to not have is a monster. It's not depression that bothers me, though I do get depressed. It's not a desire to do things I shouldn't do, though those are common. It's my inability to control thoughts that shouldn't be, my inability to find someone who I can honestly relate to. It destroys my relationships.
So now I'm talking to somebody who does. Somebody who can always rephrase my thoughts in a way that makes it even clearer to me. This is the kind of person I look for, someone smarter than me, and tragically most people like that I find, are also looking for somebody smarter. A terrible cycle. I'm a man looking for a smarter woman, who also needs to understand my monster. This becomes such a difficult search for me. And maybe that's why I like this person so much, they are someone I can actually connect with. Why could't I see this long ago, when it mattered? I mean, without them....
Nevermind.
Up to date, I found a replacement for the alcohol. Coffee. Had some this morning, as I'm waking up earlier and earlier as to be somewhat normal. Then, I decide that during the week I'll have coffee whenever I crave alcohol. I'm on my fourth cup tonight, and it seems to be working. Furthermore, I have decided to really try and quit smoking. At first, I was planning on doing it for my new years resolution. Pushing it back, but now I don't see a reason to. So I've been timing my cigarettes now to space them out to half my usual. Then, when this pack runs out, to stop completely. Maybe the coffee will help with that. Or maybe not.
I'll always battle this, and hardly anyone will know what the war looks like. But I'm sure some can see the casualties.
So it's been a bit since I've really taken an analysis of myself to the light of the world. Another story of destruction and retribution. Another moment to humble myself, to see myself for what I am, and always will be. Another fight against myself, slowly destroying piece after piece until I crouch down with red tape and bandage it all up again. Stand up, and take a few more steps forward.
I should have been job hunting all week, but I ended up only posting resumes around on one day. And not even promising places, places that may appear to be looking next month. Instead, I sat around, sat in this intense lonely feeling. A failure to interact with people, even my friends. I'd go out and have a couple laughs, but only with an inappropriate level of alcohol coursing through my veins.
Allow me to expand.
My last writing showed that I yet again had to battle a darkness I carry. The alcoholic had a decent fix on me, as I burned through my wallet in attempts to be able to release some form of humanity. Bypassing the beer, straight to scotch. Night after night, completely failing to link with people. All people, old friends of mine. I used to be the light of the party, many of you who read this may know that of me. But I would be out with these friends, and completely quiet, another bundle of mass taking up space in a chair, devouring scotch like a black hole. Eventually, I'd add a joke or just a laugh. A few rounds later, maybe even a song. I met up with an old friend during this time period, hoping that i could somehow grasp the lighthearted person I know exists somewhere within me. And I completely failed, to the point where I got called a retard by them, the person I went out to meet up with.
So then I got together with people who share a very particular part of my past with, though not directly. I went out with them, hoping, yet again, that maybe this related past could reopen myself. On the way from my car to the bar, someone crossed the street and ended up walking behind me. I couldn't stop it, just could not control myself. Engage paranoid mind. Here's the break down. Judging from shadows and quick glimpses at the window reflections, about four maybe five paces behind me. Hands in hoodie pockets, sagging, this guy is not the most sure of himself person out tonight. No head cover, dark hair. Maybe 5'8, but not a strong build, judging by the weight in his steps. He's a righty, texting with his right hand. Each step I take I'm judging best course of action in case of emergency. Watch the steps, check for alleyways. Tense up. 100 feet from the bar. I would hear about two heavy rapid steps before a quick step to the right, seeing as how his right arm would be reaching for either me or something else. Quick 180 with arm raised, elbow bent, left hand slightly raised with exposed palm, ready for anything to follow. Got to the bar, opened the door to see this man face to face, he steps into the bar, pulling his ID out of his hoodie pocket for the bouncer to inspect. It was nothing, just another guy doing exactly what I'm doing. Well, not exactly.
Moving on.
And, yet again, quiet, couple drinks, jokes, couple drinks, song. But nothing else. The drive home was way too long, dark, lonely. Scary at every turn, expecting some drunk to barrel through a red light. Or that a tire would explode somewhere, anything that would land me in the hospital. Not that I wanted it, I was just expecting it. This, coupled with the walk to the bar... why am I doing this again? A couple of my Fort Hood friends recall when I was constantly threatened, couldn't be comfortable at a club. Why is this returning? Surrounded by friends, at that? Why is it my fellow soldiers can't link me back to humanity?
By the time I got home, I was literally tearing up. I'm not sure if you could consider it crying, but my eyes weren't dry. Went in feeling alone again. Felt like grabbing my personal bottle of scotch. Instead, I came to the computer. I wrote a short version of my mentality, then I found myself going to my email, copy paste, and added an address. I probably stared at the address I entered for ten minutes. I just couldn't believe what I was doing, telling someone how I don't feel human? And this person? With our history? On some levels, it made sense, but from the outside looking in, it was completely confusing. Stepped outside, smoked a cigarette, came back in, clicked send. Then I went to bed.
I was feeling a bit better, having let it all out. I just wanted to get some rest and hope for the best when I wake up. I slept in that morning straight until two pm. Really shouldn't be, but it felt needed. But then something happened... I had a reply email. They actually replied to it, and spoke on a level that showed a true understanding. And on top of that, they gave it a name. The Monster. No longer my old term for it, the demon, it's the monster. A demon tempts you to do something. A monster just does it without approval.
It's true, when we talk with people, we bring up certain things, more personal little by little until you finally reach a point where they're responses seem pre-written. And that's when you stop. You don't push any further, and you realize that you'll never be any more personal with them. For me, I admit I do have problems even starting the process, and find that most people who say they can relate to my monster really can't. They have, granted, issues which I respect, and i can usually communicate small portions of my mentality with them. But what these people seem to not have is a monster. It's not depression that bothers me, though I do get depressed. It's not a desire to do things I shouldn't do, though those are common. It's my inability to control thoughts that shouldn't be, my inability to find someone who I can honestly relate to. It destroys my relationships.
So now I'm talking to somebody who does. Somebody who can always rephrase my thoughts in a way that makes it even clearer to me. This is the kind of person I look for, someone smarter than me, and tragically most people like that I find, are also looking for somebody smarter. A terrible cycle. I'm a man looking for a smarter woman, who also needs to understand my monster. This becomes such a difficult search for me. And maybe that's why I like this person so much, they are someone I can actually connect with. Why could't I see this long ago, when it mattered? I mean, without them....
Nevermind.
Up to date, I found a replacement for the alcohol. Coffee. Had some this morning, as I'm waking up earlier and earlier as to be somewhat normal. Then, I decide that during the week I'll have coffee whenever I crave alcohol. I'm on my fourth cup tonight, and it seems to be working. Furthermore, I have decided to really try and quit smoking. At first, I was planning on doing it for my new years resolution. Pushing it back, but now I don't see a reason to. So I've been timing my cigarettes now to space them out to half my usual. Then, when this pack runs out, to stop completely. Maybe the coffee will help with that. Or maybe not.
I'll always battle this, and hardly anyone will know what the war looks like. But I'm sure some can see the casualties.
chrysis:
:]