When Remembering Turns To Dwelling Turns To Suffering…

…You Know You‘re Fu*ked.

—At This Moment, I‘m Writing Just To Watch Myself Write.

I‘ve Slept Less Than 35–Hours In The Past 10–Nights COMBINED.

I‘m Irritable.

I‘m Sullen And Moody.

I‘ve Lost 15–LBS In That 10–Day Span.

I Don‘t Understand Why I Let Myself Get This Depressed.

I Know I Do It To Myself.

It‘s My Own Fault.

But, I‘M Not My Own Fault.

I Know That.

I Never Have Been.

I Was Created And Shaped By Events In My Life That Have Seriously Fu*ked-Me–Up.

Why Can‘t I Shake This?

Why Does The Past Still Cling To Me Like The Stench Of Death?

It Haunts My Day–To–Day Existence.

I Know Why.

BECAUSE I LET IT.

Period.

MY BAD.

It‘s These Memories.

I Can‘t Handle Them As Well As I‘d Like To.

As Well As I SHOULD.

It‘s Honestly Maddening.

It‘s Hard.

It‘s So Very VERY Hard.

I Go From Day To Day Seeing No Benefit From It All.

I‘ve…

…Sheesh…

…I‘ve Become My Own Worst Enemy.

Just As I Was Always TOLD I Would Be.

Just As I Always KNEW I Would Be.

It Happens To Us All At Some Point, Sure.

It’s Life.

It‘s LIVING Life.

My Moments Of Weakness And Horror Come To Me Like Flashes.

As Images.

Images A Person Should Never See.

No One.

The Thoughts Linger.

The Ill–Feelings They Cause Linger Longer.

Am I Having An Identity Crisis?

Whatever It Is, It‘s Hanging On Way Way WAY Tooo Long.

Talking To People Is Becoming More And MORE Difficult.

There Are A Couple Key People I‘d Love To Talk To.

They Just Don‘t Want To Talk To Me.

Sometimes, I Break Down And Simply MUST Talk To Someone.

Those Are The Moments When I‘m Feeling My Worst.

When I Know Something‘s Wrong Inside, And I Need To Make An Outside Connection Before I Snap.

I Feel The Worst, Though, When I Do Have To Ask For Help.

But, At The Point I Start Talking, I‘m Already Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel For The Oxygen I Need To Survive.

I Am.

It Gets Hard To Breathe.

I Start Feeling Sorry For Myself.

I Lose Personal Control.

I Become Someone Else.

Someone I Truly Am NOT.

A Whining…

…Crying…

…Sniveling…

…Used–To–Be.

I Know I’m Only 30‘ish‘ish.

Some Attempt To Push Upon Me That I‘m Still Far Too Young To Deal With Shit As I Do.

But, Everyone‘s Different…

…Correct???

Everyone‘s Got Their Own Stopping And Starting Point.

Their Own Breaking Point.

I Guess Mine Was Just A Bit Earlier In Life Than Some Others.

I Know I Don‘t Have It That Bad.

It‘s Not Like Someone Close To Me Has Died, Or Is Dying.

It‘s Simply The Past.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Beat.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Escape From.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Come To Terms With.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Let Go Of And Move On From.

And It‘s Destroying My Present.

I Guess Some Of This Is Normal, Right?

Thinking Of It All Has Just Brought Me Down So Much.

I Just Feel Very Alone, At Times.

But, I Do Understand That Life Could Be Much Worse.

Sadly…

…My Once Remarked–Upon Eyes Are Heavy, Dark, And Tired.

My Hopeful Outlook Has Turned Bleak.

Yet, Despite It All, I Survive.

MAYBE It All Has Made Me Stronger In Some Ways?

But, At What Personal Cost?

With Age And Experience Has Also Come Fear…

…Hate…

…Despair.

Where I Once Felt Love, I Now Feel Bitterness.

Where I Once Felt Alive, I Now Feel Drained.

Where I Once Cared About Life, I Now Resent It.

So Sad, Yet, So True.

It Just Pisses Me Off To No Extent.

When Wonderful Memories Become Jaded With Time.

I Swear, It Literally Makes Me Sick.

What I Wouldn‘t Give For A Moment‘s Peace.

A Clear Mind.

A Quiet Mind.

I Know I Have Some Amazing Moments Stored In My Brain–Case.

I‘ve Just Become To Bitter To See Them.

*** ***

PLEASE, My Peeps…

…Don‘t Be Alarmed By Anything I‘ve Said.

It‘s Just A Downer Moment For Me, And I‘m Allowing You To Experience It With Me.

I Guess I Just Wanted To Vent A Bit, As I Often Do When I Get Like This.

As I‘ve Said To Y‘all Before…

…Sometimes, It‘s Not Just The BEST Therapy…

…It‘s The ONLY Therapy.

Right???

RIGHT!!!—

Engaged Twice… …But Still Single.

That’s Right, My Peeps.

Yours Truly Has Been Ready To Tie-The-Knot…

…Not ONCE…

…But TWICE.

At Least, I’ve Asked Two Different People To Marry Me.

The First Was An Impossibility.

She Knew It.

I Knew It.

But, It Happened Nevertheless.

Is She Better-Off Without Me?

Oh, Most Definitely.

She Was Younger.

She Was Hotter.

She Was A Jock.

Yet, She Was So Tender AND Loving.

She Lit-Up A Room Upon Entering.

She Made Everyone Smile.

She Made My Friends Pat Me On The Back Saying…

“Well Done, Sir. Well Done, Indeed.“

As It Turned-Out, However, I Was NOT What She Was Looking For.

The Engagement…

…Which Was Made Through A Phone-Call…

…Lasted Almost Exactly TWO (2) Months.

Not A Lot Of Time, I Grant That.

But Those Were Two Very Special Months.

For The First Time In My Life, I Sincerely Felt As Though I Belonged.

I Had The Gal Of My Dreams, And Nothing Was Going To Take That Away From Me.

Nothing Except Her, Of Course.

She Broke-Off The Engagement.

That Part Stung A Bit, But I Understood.

Just THREE (3) Days Later, However, She Broke-Off The Entire Relationship.

That Part Stung More Than A Bit.

It Was The Only Time In My Life I Could Easily Say I Felt Something For A Member Of The Fairer-Sex.

After She And I Ended Our Union, I Totally Gave-Up On Trying To Date Women.

I Could Never Do Better Than Her, That’s Fo SHO.

When You’ve Had The Best, Why Deal With The Rest?

Of Course, While She And I Were On-The-Rocks, I Was Also Seeing A Fellow Shipmate On The Side.

He Was Slightly My Elder.

He Was Slightly Taller.

He Was Slightly More Attractive.

He Was Priceless, Honestly.

When I Told Him My Girl Had Finally Become Fed-Up With The Whole “Long Distance” Thing, His Response Was Muted.

“Well, Hell, It Happens.“

That Was The Most I Could Get Out Of Him In This Regard.

He Knew I Wasn’t Like The Rest.

He Knew That, While Personally Disheartening, The Break-Up Wouldn’t Do Much Harm.

He Knew What I Was.

I Didn’t.

But, He Did.

I Was Still In My “Total Denial“ Phase.

You’ve Been Through One, Before.

We All Have.

Not About The Same Thing, No…

…But About Something.

There’s Always A Part Of Ourselves We’re Not Pleased With.

Something We Deny, And Continue To Deny.

We’ll Deny It Until We’re Forced To Do Otherwise.

It Took Another TWO (2) YEARS Before I Finally Came To Grips With My Denial.

I Maintained It As Long As I Could.

I Fought A Good Fight.

In The End…

…I Lost The Battle To Myself.

Hey, It Happens.

Such Is Life.

The Second Time I Was Engaged, The Circumstances Were Much, MUCH Different.

This Was Someone I’d Dated A While.

A Long While.

BUT…

…I Knew I Was Ready.

I Knew Whom I Wanted…

…And Exactly What I Wanted.

So, I Asked.

And He Said “YES“!!!

I Was Shocked AND Amazed.

I Didn’t Expect The “YES“, Actually.

I Expected The “Well, You’re A Great Guy, BUT…” Speech.

But, That Didn’t Happen.

Instead, I Was Suddenly Engaged For The Second Time.

Except, This Time, I Was Simply Sure Sure SURE It Was Going To Work-Out.

We’d Been Together For Over 2-Years At That Point.

It Felt Like A Very Safe Bet, And I Was Ready.

I Was Ready To Take The Plunge And Simply Go For It.

It Wasn’t Long Afterward The Proverbial Rug Was Ripped From Under Me.

He Broke-Off The Engagement…

…And Then The Relationship.

I Wanted To Cry.

I Wanted To Show How Much It Hurt.

But, I Didn’t.

I Just Sucked-It-Up.

I Carried-On.

I Will Say This…

…If I Ever Need To Escape A Relationship…

…All I Really Need To Do Is Ask The Person To Marry Me.

In Fact, I’d Likely Be Single Again Before The End Of The Day.

Is It Me?

Am I The Reason They Duck-Out?

Or, Is It Something Else?

Perhaps It’s Thoughts Of The Future?

Our Future?

Could YOU Handle Marrying Someone You Already Knew Had Mental Difficulties???

That Could Turn-Out To Be The Question Of The Day.

Could YOU Handle It, My Peeps?

Could YOU See Yourself Loving Someone Like That?

Someone Who Spends Most Of His Time In A Dark, Sullen Mood?

Someone Who Always Sees The Negative BEFORE He Sees Anything Positive?

Could You?

Could You Handle It?

It’s A Valid Question, My Peeps.

It’s One Where I’m Very, VERY Curious About The Answer.

I Ran Across This Quotation Last Night…

…And It Felt Very VERY Relevant To What I’ve Been Doing Of Late.

“The Man Who Writes About Himself AND His Own Time Is The Only Man Who Writes About All People AND About All Time.”

—GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

I May Not See It Exactly As SHAW Had, But I Get The Gist Of What He Was Saying.

I Write About Myself, Mainly, Because I’m What I Know.

A Person MUST Write What They Know, And I’m The One Subject I Know The Best.

Sometimes, I Wish I Didn’t Know Myself So Well.

Sometimes, I Wish I Could Just Turn It All Off.

As Kids, My Brother Had A Standing Order For Xmas Or Birthday Gifts.

He Wanted A “Remote Controlled Bradley” So He Could “Turn Him Off“!!!

😦

I’m Not Even Joking There, My Peeps.

That’s Exactly What He Wanted.

People Have Wanted To Turn Me Off The Bulk Of My Life.

It Comes With The Territory.

It Goes Hand–N–Hand With Mental Illness.

No One Knows How To Fix You…

…Yet Everyone Wants To.

Even Little Brothers.

So, What Can I Say Toward That?

Honestly, Not Much.

I Do Wish I Had An Off-Switch.

It Would Have Come In Handy Many, Many Times.

But, Alas, I Do Not.

So, Now What?!

Help Me Here, My Peeps.

What’s Up?

What’s The Story?

What’s The Scoop??

What Can I Do???

It’s Just A Bit After 5AM…

…Yet, Here I Sit…

…Talking To Y’all…

…Wishing I Had More To Honestly Say.

Everything I Want To Say, I Can’t.

Everything I Want To Do, I Can’t.

So, Where Does That Leave Us?

If You Said “Right Back Where We Started“ You’d Be Very Much Correct.

I’m Tired.

I Feel Used-Up.

I Feel Worn-Out.

Maybe I Should Try Going Back To Bed?

Well, I Would If I Knew It Would Be A Positive.

But, It Wouldn’t Be.

It’d Just Be More Of The Same.

Tossing.

Turning.

Blankly–Staring.

I Just Don’t Know, My Peeps.

I Sincerely Don’t Know.

I Do Know I Don’t Write For All People…

…Nor For All Time.

I’m Just Here.

I’m Just Me.

I’m Just Writing What Feels Right.

Even Though, Sometimes, It’s Very VERY Wrong.

I Hate My Brain.

I Hate My Heart.

I Hate Everything About Myself.

Why?

Because, I Don’t Function Properly.

I Can Be The Nicest, Most Charming Person Around.

And, Then, In The Same Breath, I Can Be Malicious.

I Can Be Cruel.

I Can Be Evil.

Life’s Funny That Way, I Suppose.

Is It Funny I Find That Funny?

Is It Wrong?

Is It In Bad-Taste?

I Just Don’t Know.

I Do Know It’s Time To End This Ramble.

I’m Just Not Feeling It.

I Started–Out Shaky On The Subject…

…And I Remain So.

So, I’ll Just Shut-Up.

Perhaps Later I’ll Be More Able To Convey My Thoughts And Feelings.

Right Now…

…Both MY MIND And MY HEART Are In A Very Dark Place.

Trying To Work When I’m Like This Is Generally A Bad Thing.

Nothing Good Has Ever Come Of It…

…And I Don’t See Any Good Coming Anytime Soon.

Perhaps Later?

Perhaps.

How Important Is FORGIVENESS???

In Short…

…It Means The World At That Time.

The Point I Wish To Make With This Post Is That FORGIVENESS May Mean Life.

At Least, Now It Does.

I Was Forgiven For An Exceptional Injustice.

I Was Shocked.

I Was Amazed.

I Didn’t Feel I Deserved It…

…But I Got It.

To Be Forgiven By Another Is One Thing.

To Forgive One’s Self Is Totally Another.

He Forgave Me, Yet I Can’t Seem To Do The Same For Myself.

I Wish I Could Go Back.

I Wish I Could Stop What I Did Before It Ever Happened.

(((Side Note: I'd Cry, But I'm So Sick Right Now I Can Barely Write.)))

I Was So SO Foolish, And He Deserved Sooo Much More.

Much Better Than I Gave Him.

I Know The Eventual Outcome Wasn’t My Fault.

It Was A Moment Of Pure Stupidity On His Part.

But, That Doesn’t Change How I Feel.

I Wish It Did, But It Didn’t.

I’ve Been Sick, Since.

Since The Forgiveness.

It Just Doesn’t Feel Right.

I Wish He’d Ripped Me A New One.

I Wish He’d Dropped The Bomb On Me.

But, He Didn’t.

He Told Me I Shouldn’t Feel The Blame.

He Told Me That It  Wasn’t My Fault.

That It’s Nothing I Should Ever Worry Myself About.

But, I Can’t Do That.

I Try Try TRY…

…But I Can’t Do It.

God How I Wish I Could.

I Think My Life Would Be A Lot Different Had I Sucked-It-Up And Carried-On.

But, I Didn’t.

I Let It Eat At Me.

I Let It Destroy Me.

I Let It…

…I Let it…

…I Let It.

Ya Know What, Screw This Post.

I Have So Much I Want To Say…

…Yet Know I’ll Never Be Able To.

So I’ll End This Here.

Just Know, My Peeps, That You Are Loved AND Cared About Deeply.

If I’ve Wronged You…

…I’m Sorry.

I Tend To Rub People The Wrong Way, Which Is Why I’m Apologizing.

I Can Only Hope That…

…With TIME  And PATIENCE…

…I’ll Be Able To Get Beyond All Of This.

This Blog Post Is Evidence Of That.

I’m Trying To Move Beyond This, Kids.

Perhaps, One Day, I’ll Be Able To Do So.

Perhaps.

My 10-Hour Psych-Eval or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Accept I’m A Mental Headcase

Good Morning, My Peeps.

What’s New In The Clean World, As They Say?!

Yeah.

Sounds About Right To Me.

So…

…As The Title Of This Piece Suggests…

…Or States…

…Or Whatever…

…I Spent 10-HOURS Of My Monday Sitting In An Office…

…Answering Question After Question…

…With Each Answer Spawning More Questions…

…And More Questions…

…And More Answers…

…And Yet More Questions…

…And On And On And On.

😐

We Talked About The Hot, Horrid Mess That Was My Childhood…

…Focusing Mainly On Traumatic Experiences That Have (likely) Shaped The Man I Am Today.

We Talked About My Inability To Conform.

My Struggles To “Fit-In” Anywhere.

The Friends I’ve Made.

Why I Made Those Few Friends In The First Place.

The Friends I’ve Lost.

Why I Lost Said Friends.

We Talked About My Plans For The Future…

…Or If I Honestly Had Any Real Plans For Any Type Of Future…

…And On…

…And On…

…And On And On And On.

😐

We Talked About My Time In The Navy.

The Good Things About It.

The Horrid Things About It.

Why I Was Discharged Early.

How I Felt About That.

How That (likely) Did Shape The Man I Am.

My Sleep/Insomnia Issues.

The Eval, Honestly, Seemed To Drag On…

…And On…

…And On And On…

…More Questions…

…More Answers…

…Begat More Questions…

…Begat More Answers.

😦

Honestly, My Peeps…

…I’ve Never Felt More Internally Exposed.

My Life History…

…Broken Down Before Me…

…Into 10-HOURS Of Q&A.

It Was, By FAR, The Most Comprehensive Mental Evaluation Of My 30’ish-Year Existence.

When It Was Finally Over…

…I Was So Drained I Could Hardly Stand-Up.

Lucky For Me…

…The Eval Took Place About 10-Blocks Away From My Home.

I Felt Sick.

I Was Nauseated.

I Had A Headache Direct From Hell’s Half-Acre.

I Felt Torn-Open…

…All Of My Guarded Skeletons Now Released Out Into The World…

…And Now A Part Of Record.

You Can’t Sincerely Know How It Felt Until You’ve Done It.

You Simply Can’t, My Peeps.

😦

It Was Grueling.

It Was Embarrassing.

It Was Humiliating.

It Was Irritating.

It Was Exhausting.

It Was Enraging.

It Was Draining.

It Was Helpful.

It Was (HOPEFULLY) Worth It.

😐

It Really Was The Most Difficult Q&A Session Of My Life.

Half-Way Into It…

…You Can Easily Imagine…

…I Was Ready To Get-Up And Leave And Just Go Home.

She Pulled Things Out Of Me…

(Mentally And Emotionally Speaking)

…I’d Been Repressing Most Of My Life.

She Got Me To Admit I’d Been Molested By A Former Neighbor.

She Got Me To Admit I’d Suffered Multiple Concussions From Major Head-Traumas.

She Got Me To Admit My Lack Of True Emotions In Some Cases…

…And Truly Overt Emotions In Others.

She Got Me To Talk About How I Used To Get Into Fights With My Peers In School…

…And How People Started Leaving Me Alone Because I Was Too Unpredictable.

She Got Me To, As I’ve Said,  Talk About Why I Was Discharged Early From The Navy…

…And How I Was Hazed/Bullied/Pressured Into Signing My Name To The Confession I Was Prompted To Draft At The Time.

She Got Me To Admit How I Felt When I Was Sent To The Brig…

…Placed In Solitary Confinement…

…And Put On Rations Of Bread And Water For THREE (3) Days.

She Got Me To Actually Talk About My Auditory-Hallucinations.

My Extreme Paranoia.

My Lack Of Sympathy And Empathy Toward Others.

The Woman Was Very Good At Her Job.

In The End…

…However…

…In Handing Down Her Diagnosis…

…She Told Me Nothing I Didn’t Really Already Know.

A.D.H.D.

Depression.

Schizophrenia.

Personality Disorder.

Underlying, Unresolved Trauma.

Sociopathic Tendencies.

 All Things I Could Have Just Told Her When I Walked Into Her Office.

BUT…

…Her Job Was To Confirm The Diagnosis Of Other Doctors…

…AND To Make Her Own Diagnosis.

And Boy OH Boy Was She Thorough.

😐

Needless To Say…

…I’m Just Glad It’s Over.

I Was Honestly Hoping Beyond Hope I’d Sleep Better Tonight.

As You Can Easily See…

…That Didn’t Happen.

Another Night Of Around 3’ish Hours Of Actual Sleep.

BUT…

…That’s Why I’m Writing To Y’all Right Now.

I Figured MAYBE If I Got All Of This Out Into The Open, My Mind Would Calm-Down…

…Relax…

…And Possibly Allow Me To Get Back To Sleep.

Is This Helping Me Relax?

Yes.

Some.

Do I Feel As Though I Could Get Back To Sleep?

No.

Not Really.

Am I Glad I’m Sharing This With You?

Yes.

Somewhat.

😐

Why Just “Somewhat”???

Because One Never Knows How Others Will React To Hearing Certain Things…

…And I Don’t Want Y’all, My Peeps, To Be Uncomfortable With What I’m Saying.

This Really Was Something I Sincerely Wanted To Get Off Of My Chest…

…So Perhaps I’m A Touch More Than “Somewhat” Glad I’m Sharing This With Y’all.

You Cats And Kittens Are Okay By Me…

…And I Wanted To Try (potentially) Connecting With Y’all A Bit More.

🙂

Am I A Mental Headcase?

Yes.

Is That Now A “Fact” Of Record?

Yes.

Am I Going To Let It Affect What I Do Here?

Hopefully Not.

Do I Love Being Able To Talk With Y’all?

More Than You’d Believe.

Are My Eyes A Touch Weepy, And Do I Need To Shut-Up For The Moment?

Yes AND Yes.

Am I Willing To Answer Some Questions From Y’all?

Sure…

…Some.

Will I Be As Open And Honest With Y’all As I Was With Her?

I Don’t Know.

Is This A Good Place To End This?

Yeah…

…I Think So.

L8r L8r, My Peeps.

And Thank You Again For Listening Reading.

🙂