And the truth is…..

I find some things interesting about myself, yes I am being introspective. What a lark, right? Well, one of the things I found interesting is the fact that I can take something bad that either I have done or let’s say abusive towards myself and just irrationally explain it away. Take cutting, for example, we all know that it is not exactly healthy for anyone to be doing due to the fact that it really does not give one a sense of self-control. But I have done it and still do it. The fucked up part is that no matter how many times I have cut myself, or how deep or even where I cut myself I cannot feel the pain. I see the cut, I see the blood but I feel nothing. My skin or pain receptors do not really register the pain. So I asked myself if I keep doing this one of two things are going to happen; A – I am going to cut myself deep enough that I am really going to hurt myself, or B – I am going to end up cutting myself so many times in so many different places that again I am going to hurt myself to the point I will, well we won’t go there. Suffice it to say that I have quit cutting it doesn’t give me a sense of control, it doesn’t feed my selfish nature and it’s just plain fucked up when I have to hide the scars so I don’t have to explain them away and lie to others about what I have been doing, I mean for fucks sake I have enough scars from my years in the military that are easily explained but what about those perfect straight line cuts on my forearms, what about those perfect cuts on my left hand between my thumb and wrist that look like a cross hatch pattern. To be noted I will be getting a tattoo to cover those up because in my professional life I get quite a few stares that always seem to say I know what you have been doing. Paranoid? Yes, I am because it is no one’s business.

I just had to look…..

Wow it has been so long since I have posted on my blog or even looked at it. It amazes me as I peruse the many things I have written over the years all the anger, the sadness, the confusion, not one thing that really strikes me as being positive. Then it hits me, why did I stop writing, why did I stop communicating in a form that has served me so well, so often? The answer is I don’t know. I ask myself am I really any different than I was then? I would like to think that I am but you see I really haven’t done anything different with my life I still do all those things that I did back then, except I locked myself away from the world. I still spend all of my time away from people unless I actually have to be in contact with them. I am still as angry now as I was then, but somehow it seems different so I guess that is a good change. I still deal with my others but its seems more like we live in comfortable silence with each other, perhaps because I have been isolating all this time. I have to say even when I am around other people I am always isolated, wrapped in my own little cocoon of an emotionless void. I guess in some ways I have changed you see, but in others I am still the very same person that started this blog not understanding what was wrong, why I was like this and how do I live with all of this? I have lived with all of this but still along the way I have lost and I am still losing not only myself but physical things, people I love, things I have owned. I have not felt much of anything for this whole period of time I go day by day just wanting to get this day over with so the next one can begin. Not much change as the days have gone by, what am I looking for? What kind of miracle is it that I am seeking only to really never look for said miracle? God I still ramble just like before, on that I have to smile I never could keep my thoughts from just pouring out while I write, my curse I guess. I want to write on here, I need to write on here. Even if it is the only meaningful interaction I have with other people.