"I'll never do that again"

Right now i am at a crossroad in my life. Well not so much a crossroad as a road i'm afraid to tread. When i was 17 i was at a place much like this. Horrible dreams, constant sadness, anger, rage. The only way i was able to pull through that was a very painful 'dehumanization'. I'm not like most people...i can fully repress memories to the point that they are all but gone, but it comes at a price. Pre-17 i was a very smart kid. I almost always had my shit together. I was very calm and focused. Then shit went down that i'd rather not write about, mainly because it's like flashes and fragmented memories in my head now, just as i intended it to be. I've decided i'm taking a week off in april with a couple personals tacked on the front and back...to make a 10 day vacation. That is when i do what i dreaded ever doing again. And no it's not suicide. For those 10 days i'm going to spend it with Steve, alcohol, and weed. I intend to erase the past 6 months out of my mind forever. It's the only way i'll keep my sanity. I'm sad that it came to this but it has to be done. Love isn't something you can simply forget about...it has to be ripped out and murdered for it to be truly gone.

'i tried to forget you as you forgot me, this time there is nothing left for you to take, this is goodbye. Summer is miles and miles away, no one would ask me to stay. And i should contemplate this change, to ease the pain. And i should step out of the way, turn away.'

Today's song of the day is Opeth - In My Time of Need

Today is the first day of the rest of your life

So i woke up today to my stupid cell ringing over and over. I swear im gonna tattoo into Steve's forehead my work schedule...he always wants to chill when i have to go to work. Normal routine of getting ready for work...shower, dress, brush, try not to throw up. As i pull into work i see Shawn and his girl Caitlin (or however you spell it...i swear that name has so many variants) chillin in my parking spot. We get to talking and as it turns out they got engaged. Really bothers me cause i could tell they were both on dope, that fucking shit spreads like wildfire. Go into work, normal routine blah blah blah. Around 2am Jen the bakery girl comes in, now i've had a thing for her since i started working there. As it turned out i was working right next to the bakery all night. I see her come in, i say good morning, and she seems to be a bit out of sorts. I try not to pry into other peoples problems but i could tell she was visibly shaken and upset over something, so my normal concerned side asks her if shes ok. Big mistake. She starts going on and on about her husband and how much of a prick he is. As she's winding down from her tirade i noticed she was looking at my eyes the whole time, not many people can do that. Most of the 'conversation' was about how she wants a kid but her burnout husband doesn't. Then out of the blue she asked me if i wanted kids. Naturally i said 'sure but im punching out at 7:30...is that enough time?' It's getting to be pretty clear that she likes me, with the touching and the flirting we do. And here i am soul-searching. And i've come to the conclusion...I want children, but not with her, i only want them with one girl.

Well the sleeping pills are beginning to kick in...better end this update. Raise a glass to the prospect of a day without haunted sleep...like thats gonna happen...

Today's song of the day is Slayer - Mandatory Suicide

Isolation Years

The past is a scary thing. I look back into my past and i fully understand all my decisions, be them right or wrong. The scary past is the past of others. I hear stories from people about all sorts of things, but when they tell me about personal, painful memories i'm filled with a genuine, intense fear. There's a few reasons for that. Number one being why would they impart that knowledge to me. Number two is learning things about people that i didn't know. I understand that learning new things about people is the road to building a better friendship/relationship/whatever but in some weird way i want them to be just as i picture them. Funny how it never ends up that way.

I wear my past on my sleeve, in a most literal sense. 'Normal' people seem to be apprehensive around me. Granted i don't look like the type of guy you'd take home to mom. The way i dress, the long hair, the goatee, 'the eyes', the scars...all point people to one determined judgement of me. That i'm not right in the head, and you know what? They're fucking right. The strange thing is the people that actually do get to know me love me. Some people ask why i don't just 'conform' and cut the hair and look like everyone else. There's a simple explanation for that. I refuse to do anything to please anyone else but myself. This is who i am. I might be self-destructive, headed for an early grave, drinking and smoking myself to death, but thats ME. Changing myself to better suit the majority of people is a fucking cop-out. I don't hide from anyone. People may see my substance abuse as me trying to hide but it's not, i'm dulling the pain. The pain that most of you don't feel. Nothing as pedestrian as physical pain. I've been fighting a severe bout of depression since November and i'm losing to my Hate. Numbness is the only thing that puts me to sleep. And once i do get to sleep...oh the dreams...jabs of insults and degenerating sanity born from my mind. My stomach always hurts. I'm lonely. I can't truly connect with anyone. When i do begin to connect with someone i sabotage it. I'm destined to be alone. No one understands me. The ones that think they do hurt me the most. I'm at my end. As of right now i feel absolutely no hope for the future to be better. For any of my friends that are reading this read this....fuck you for giving a shit about me, the only thing im good for is hurting people so i may as well show you at my best.

Today's song of the day is Bleed The Sky - Skin Un Skin

Temporary Clarity

I mentioned a few posts back about how i wanted to go shooting with Joe. I guess i'll explain why i can't. A long time ago i had a very bleak outlook on my future (and still do). I'm ashamed to admit i've attempted suicide a few times during my lowest points. The scars on my wrists will never disappear. The brain cells i've lost will never regenerate. But one attempt was by far the most eye-opening in my life. I'm not going into detail about it, mainly because i don't want anyone to know but the one who has to know. At this point in my life for the most part i don't want to die, sometimes i feel hopeless to that point, but more than anything else i want to better my life. I want children, i want a wife that truly loves this fucked up person that i am, i want a house, i want a better job, but most of all i just want to stop feeling this way. The scariest thing about me isn't the desire to die, because that isnt there. The scariest thing is the lack of concern of dying. I drive way too fast. I take too many chances. My personal safety is always the last thing on my mind. In some respects it's alot more fun living that way. But in other more important respects it's terrible. I'm going to die young. I've already established and dealt with that knowledge. I wish i had someone to live for.

Today's song of the day is Pantera - Suicide Note Pt. 1

Where did this come from?

for about 4 months ive been looking at a bullet i got from god knows where sitting on top of my monitor. .357 Magnum hollowpoint. I stare at it and wonder where it's going to end up. Its sole purpose is to kill. It exists for no other reason. To most people it doesn't look very intimidating...its only about an inch long and maybe 2cm in diameter. I wonder whos life i saved by taking this single bullet into my possession. Granted it could've been used for sharpshooting or sport shooting but there's always a possibility. When i think that way i think theres probably about a billion people that should have it instead of me. Is there a reason i fell upon this instrument of death? Is it a sign? Maybe this bullet was meant to kill a criminal. Maybe it was created to kill a killer. Or maybe...just maybe...it was made just for me.

Today's song of the day is Nonpoint - Bullet With A Name

My G-string keeps falling off! it's too short!

Most people drink or do drugs purely for the high and the feeling of euphoria. Not me. I always did those things for one reason...the numbness. Sometimes when im sober i sit back and think about why i always feel the need to numb myself to the point of danger. I guess it's because i feel empty, and the little bit that's in me hurts so bad. The other night i bought a few pills of Oxycontin from Unc. For those of you that dont know what that is it's a very potent painkiller reserved for post-surgery and serious arthritis. In my infinite wisdom i decided to mix it with a couple beers. By the time it took full effect i felt NOTHING. My entire body was numb and i couldn't move. A normal person would be afraid that they overdosed but i didn't. I almost felt peaceful. The next morning i woke up and felt really funny. I've come to the realization that i'm a greedy motherfucker for doing this to myself. I might feel alone but i know deep down certain people need me. They need the unpolluted me. Whether they know it or not. I think it's about time i gave up the drugs and alcohol for good and started to help people with my experiences with addiction, depression, and hopelessness. I have to stop thinking about my own needs and help the people i love, and the knowledge that i truly love people lets me know i'm not dead inside. To those few people i feel i'm very close to ill say this...I love you and i'm trying my best.

Today's song of the day is Slayer - Jihad