If you wanted to know me, don’t read this it don’t say shit


So here I sit trying to write just about me and this is the second attempt at this, I am not finding it so easy just to talk about me, without all the baggage that I carry with me, I figured that trying to talk about me would be an easy task hell I already talk about a lot of other shit. So why am I finding it so hard to tell you about myself. I have had this thought; I can’t tell you about me without all of the other things in my life coming up you see that is a part of me, like an arm or a leg. If I tell you about myself I have to add in all the things that make me, me. Like my diagnosis and my past drug addiction and the abuse I had as a child, you see I made it out like I was whining about those things but clearly they have defined the person that I have become. It takes a considerable amount of courage for me to tell even myself that I have problems and that bad things have happened to me in my life. I don’t want it to be true, I want to be what I call normal and not have other people in my head, and to not be so angry with the world and for those things that happened to me in my youth define me, and yet they do and I don’t want to accept that about me. If I were me now and I saw what was happening to me then I would have put a stop to it, there would have been no violence, no fear, no emotional abuse, I would not have the desire to have the perfect family, of mom and dad of brothers that are still together today and are a part of each other’s lives. I would not have taken drugs for so long and never would I have tried, more than once to kill myself. But as hard as it is for me those moments every hurt, every wrong all the damage I have done to myself over the years, every missed opportunity that I passed by, every smack of the belt, the hits to my body and soul that I have taken over the years, all of that would never have been. But I have to ask myself, what kind of man would I have turned out to be if all of these things had never happened to me, it has and did happen to me and there is nothing I can do about it. I just need to learn to live with me as I am, and that is no easy thing to do. I don’t want to rage against an unjust world, I don’t want to think about those moments in my life where I feared for my life, I don’t want to see danger and fear around every corner. I feel like I am whining again, telling you look at me and feel sorry for me, and that is not what I want, I already feel sorry for myself I don’t want others to feel sorry for me to. What I want is to understand and to come to terms with the way I am and the things I feel, I don’t need pity I make enough for myself, what I do lack is courage, the courage to sit up in this world and to take my place in this world again. I want the courage to tell you all about the damage that was done to me, in detail. I want to never glamorize my drug issues and call them the best times of my life. I want to have the courage to be alive again and not be scared of what will come, and what will knock me down again. I want the courage to say to tell the world that this is me and not back down or second guess myself, I don’t want to regret all the words that I have written over the last couple of weeks, I don’t want to think of myself as a whiner, a wasted thing that doesn’t have a voice in this world and sometimes feels as if he doesn’t belong in this world, no I am not contemplating suicide I say this as an afterthought not a plan. And yet I have talked about me but have I said anything of who I really am. What it is that makes me laugh, what makes me sit and stare out the window and what is that I actually see when I look of into the distance? What is it that I want to do with the rest of my life, what makes me love my wife and giggle like a little child as I watch my son do stupid stuff? Have I told you about any of this, no not once. Or the fact that I like to listen to 80’s glam rock and one of my favorite bands is Great White. Or the fact that I have a gay man for a brother, bet you didn’t know that, and I bet you didn’t know that I am very proud to have him as a brother. Or that I read fantasy and science fiction novels, or that when I first started to have panic attacks that the one thing I used to calm myself down with was a Disney movie call the sword and the stone, guess I didn’t mention that did I? Or the fact that I would very much like to sit here and cry, just cry, over what I don’t know but it would be a huge release to let some other emotion take control of my body and just let the tears fall like rain. It seems the only emotion I let go of is anger and that is not healthy, but what do I do to stop that. Did I tell you my favorite color of car is white? Or that I know how to ride horses, guess that might have slipped my mind too.

my mind disconnected form my heart, my heart disconnected from my soul, all that i am is an island of old, always looking back never forward, never learning always yearning, what am i to do i scream, what am i to do, you have isolated me for so long from far and near to things that i would hold dear, time to let it go, but i dont know how

And yet as I sit here and reread some of the things I have written I can see anger in my words as if I were challenging myself that these are the things that are really me, can you not see it in the words I have typed here, I can and I didn’t want that to be a part of this whole thing, I really didn’t want anger to become a part of this.

You see this is what I didn’t want for this to become another rant an angry rant about, well about me and yet there it is in black and white. What I really wanted was for you and me to have a conversation, a conversation like two old friends sitting in old arm chairs by the fire, smoking our pipes and drinking hot tea, just telling each other of stories from our past and whiling away the time in fond repast. Not for it to come off as an angry man challenging the very facts of what he is supposed to be. I can see that to get past the anger and into the place I want to be will be a great battle for me. It is too early in the battle for me to face this daunting task of conquering my anger. I am not ready, I am not able to face this yet, and so what do I do. I never really wanted anger to come into this post, I was so hoping to tell you about me, and not let the anger be involved, but I have seen that this is not to be. I wanted to share with you things about me that didn’t have any anger to it, to see if through writing to you this way I could find a measure of peace in my mind. Once again I know that this will not be so. Damn I can even see the anger in my verbiage in the very words that I am using. Just once, just one time I want to write without anger or malice at myself and the memories in my mind.  Once again I will not finish the story, my anger will not let it come out you see perhaps I am not ready to talk about me, at least not until the anger is in check. Please forgive me I have failed myself again. All I wanted to tell you were stories of me. I wish you could see the picture in this post full size for it is amazing to behold.

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