The beginning, again.

Attitude. A couple months ago I was contemplating suicide. No for real. I was. I looked at myself in the mirror, thought, what the hell am I doing with anything anymore, and wanted to just end everything. I saw no future. I saw no hope for anything new and exciting. I didn't think that I was going to amount to anything. My attitude was complete shit and I looked at the world as if there was no joy in it for me. It's taken me some time and I know I have a long way to go, but overall things are better. I haven't completely stopped the porn use, but it has significantly decreased and not become such a factor in my life. I don't know whether it's because I view it differently, or because I just don't feel the shame cycle happening over and over. But, it's not controlling me. I see my future still spreading out across the world in a way that I want. I may never reach all or most of my goals, but they don't seem impossible at this moment. I still think about her. I don't wonder what she's doing anymore and I don't miss her. Truth is, I was probably just as addicted to the mess that was our relationship as I was to the porn I used during our relationship. I don't feel this need to please everyone, just to focus on myself and make what I do better every day. It moves. On the scale my attitude shifts depending on my mood and where my head is at, but thinking back to two months ago, I could never have seen myself feeling positive about things. Today was good, not perfect.... but good. In the coming months I'll take good over wanting to end it all any day and every day.

 

Acceptance. To me this might be the most difficult part. I pride myself too much on being smart, or being a person that has a grip on things. I could never get to a point where something like porn use or being in an abusive relationship would control me in anyway... right?! But the fact is, I'm human. I make mistakes. I dwell. I think too much about the future and worry too much about the past. As much as I hate to admit it, I do care about what other people think about me, or at the very least what my good friends think about me. I heard a term the other day, and I'd never known it before. Gaslighting.... a term used to describe someone who has been manipulated by psychological means into questioning their own sanity. I'm seeing how in my most recent relationship I was gaslighted, but I also recognize how it's probably been that way for a lot of my life as well. Not just by other people but by myself. Let's start at the beginning. My dad used to make me feel like I was a much worse off person that I ever was. Because he was petrified that I would turn out like him (dropout, homeless at one point, alcoholic) he would see the worst in this scared little boy that only wanted his love. In turn, I think I started to see myself like that. A boy that even when trying his best, when putting every ounce of energy into being the best that I possibly could be for his love or approval, it was never enough. Nothing was ever really enough. Fast forward, most all relationships I've ever had in my life have been a small extension of this. They've all to some degree been about control, manipulation, and this idea that no matter what I do it isn't enough. I've fled and run from this idea, thinking that I could get by on my intelligence. I'm not perfect, not by a long shot. But at least I've always been able to look at myself in the mirror and understand that flaws exist. That being flawed is what makes me human. But it was always hard to be flawed for those that I loved. Because I wanted to protect them. To make them feel like I would never do anything to hurt them. She was like that. Even now there are moments where I questions if I was right or wrong, if my actions in the relationship truly was the downfall of everything. But I know better. Porn was never my problem. Porn was merely the place I ran to when things got hard. It was my one place of escape. It made me feel good and I don't deny that. But it also is not real. Porn is a fantasy land where we can have anything we want and all things we desire can come true, even for a few minutes. But that's also not the truth. The truth is, is that it's an illusion. It's the island with the dream girl, and the mansion with the 15 bedrooms, and the billion dollar bank account, and the private jet getaways, and the fucking caviar dreams we all have. It's the illusion that we all want but are unable to put the true work and time in to get. It's the lost dreams of other people we live for sometimes. I'm trying now, to accept that everything I am, everything that I have become is not entirely who I am. But I have to also accept I'm not perfect. And that's ok. I accept that I still dwell on thoughts of her, and that's ok. I still dwell on this idea that I can't be the leading main in my life and instead I'll only ever be the supporting character in someone else's. And that's ok too, as long as it's done with love and kindness to myself. The illusions become reality when work meets determination, when we look in the mirror and say "I see you, I hear you, I love you" and accept every part of that person, past, present and future.

 

Change. It's come to my attention the last few weeks that a change has come over me. Without being too specific I was awarded something that I had worked hard to earn. It's scary, and at the same time altogether exciting. My mind is clearer, and even though there is still sadness from the loss of my relationship, it's now meet with an understanding that there was nothing I could do to avoid the inevitable. The more I learn about "love bombing" and narcissist, and even psychopaths, I realize that I was dating someone on the spectrum somewhere there. A person with no feeling or remorse for any of their actions. Someone that could not compute the very simple idea that I am an individual and I have a life much separate from theirs that does not revolve around all the things they need and want. She was amazing, I loved her, and I'm glad it's done. So, why start this post with 'Change'. Because I feel that most of my life instead of doing things to change myself, build myself up, and follow my passions and dreams; I've always been trying to change other people. With my ex, it would have been nice to change the way she viewed me. To see me as a loving person with flaws that wished nothing more than to build a relationship full of love and kindness. To change the negative outlook she had for us and to trust me because I would never do anything to hurt her. But there is no changing her. Not now, not ever. Probably because on one hand people that are sociopaths don't ever change, but more so that it was never my job to change who she was. It's my job to look at myself and do the work needed to change myself into who I ultimately want to be. At the same token for anyone who has read any post before this, the one person in my life that has affected me the most, my father, will always be the same. Prone to outburst. Switching opinions about topics as quickly as the breeze shifts. Only taking the feeling at the moment as truth in their minds and running with it. I will always love my dad, but I now know that I can never change him. He's too old, too stubborn, and too much of a pain in the ass to deal with. If he hasn't accepted me and who I am at this time in my life, then I don't know what to do. Porn was always an escape to a world where I was living in my fullest fantasies and having fun. The shame from it, the lack of human interaction and empathy of it has haunted me. I don't see it now as an escape so much as a prison. But now that I don't feel this compulsion to please my father to give him what he wants, to make him love me, to make him accept what I'm doing, there has been such a weight lifted off of me. I can breathe a little knowing that I've gotten where I am in the world due to my own hard work (or lack thereof). I'm not bound as a man as I thought I was as a child to make his life complete or happy. I'm not this person that only exists to sacrifice the things I want to make the people around me happy. I'll always be kind, nice, and patient with people. But I can no longer afford to give up parts of me to make others around me happy. I have to change.

 

Determination. I've read a lot lately on how the body physically changes over time. How our brains are plastic and we can essentially become someone else. Most people don't believe this. I do. I think that there is truth to the idea that thought is physical energy inside of us. How else does a signal get from our brain to our fingers, or feet, or mouth. An idea can actually change someone. But our simple brain will always try to go back to what it knows, what has always been comfortable. Shame for me is comfortable. It's as comfortable as a well worn shoe. I don't deny the fact that the shoe for me is toxic relationships and consistent pornography use. It's comfortable. I asked an ex-lover yesterday if she thought I was an asshole. I just had the thought, and needed to know from someone I had been intimate with but who had most definitely moved on in a very healthy way. It was a little eye opening, as she described she thought I was very self serving and made bad choices. I wasn't even really upset at the self serving part of it. I was a little disturbed at the bad choices part. See, I knew I was self serving to the point where I had no recourse for using her for sex, much like I used pornography to fulfill my empty needs. I had actually liked this person very much and knew that if I were to engage in a relationship with her it would have been nice. But I didn't, and I don't exactly know why. I've never even thought about it. The moment she moved on though was the moment I was a complete and total fucking asshole to her. I don't know if I've ever admitted that before. Looking back, I had a very clear objective in my contact with her and what I wanted. Sex, that's it. I was determined to get it. And if I didn't get it from her, I was going to try and get it from some tinder girl I didn't care about or some fling from the past that was just hanging around and up for a one-nighter. Nothing was fulfilling; everything was empty, and intimacy was always missing. No connection. Porn is so easy that way too. There is no connection, no empathy or understanding. My last relationship was at best with a sociopath and at worst with a psychopath. It fed into the very basic needs I wanted. The idealization part of it was unbelievably intoxicating and I couldn't help myself but to fall completely head over heels for someone that was like that. Of course, the relationship was only good as long as I was giving her what she wanted, and the second there was any separation of self the relationship started to falter. At least through my research and understanding I've learned that I'm not a crazy person. I loved her, truly and deeply I did. And I longed for the moments where everything would be ok. An actual future beyond the day or week looking into years of a lifetime of happiness. We fed each other. Our monsters grew around us whether we knew it or not, and ultimately porn was the safe haven where I sought refuge all the time. Again, simple, easy, and completely without any consequence. Except that's not true either. That's the lie I tell myself over and over. Which is why when my ex-lover said I made bad choices I started to think about it. It is a bad choice to watch pornography and use it as a means to numb and disassociate myself with the rest of the world. It is a bad choice to willingly go back to a toxic relationship just because it falls in the realm of "comfortable" inside of my brain. It is a bad choice to treat people like objects with no regard for their feelings or your own. It is a bad choice not to make a choice to change. By all accounts and everything I've learned has told me my last relationship was always doomed to end. You're not dealing with a real person when one day they say they love you and want to work everything out and the next they are actively engaged romantically with someone else (literally I mean this, not figurative at all). But the choice to remain is there. The choice to fall further into despair is there. The choice to continue to hurt myself over and over with porn and meaningless sex that is unfulfilling is there. So now what? Einstein said the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Choose different. Make new thoughts. Get new routines in life. Act accordingly to the life you want and move forward from there. Be afraid, but have courage to know not to try is worse than letting the fear overcome you. These are the simple choices I'm making now. But to make the choice once a day is not enough. It has to be day after day after day that this is going to happen. Determination to be someone different than before, to shape the future I want for myself is the only thing I have now. I refuse to suffer. I refuse to make that choice.

 

Setbacks. They happen. They suck. The last month or so I've been god about being away from the porn. But I've been triggered a little bit this week. I don't know exactly what it's been. Again, I don't think anyone is actually reading these, but even just putting my thoughts out there in the universe it helps to get put all my ideas in some kind of order. Order.... that's an interesting word. My life can be so full of chaos sometimes that to have any kind of order it refreshing. I don't want setbacks. I don't want to take steps back at all. I don't want to feel like all the progress I've been making is for nothing and I have no self control. But I know those are all excuses I tell myself so that the next time I act out I say something like "well, I knew this was going to happen, and there it is." It's fucking annoying. Breath. Just breath. The last couple days have been a little bit of a setback. But I have to think about all the progress I have made. Getting out of an abusive relationship. Learning more and more about what it is I truly want in this world and taking the measured steps to get myself there. Having faith in myself overall that things are moving in a positive direction. Today has just been stressful. Trigger. I'm feeling self conscious about myself. Trigger. I feel like I'm falling behind in some of my work. Trigger. Lack of sleep. Trigger. Now is the time to understand that days like this will happen and when they do I need to be fully aware in my mind to know that this too will pass. That I don't need to feel the immediate rush that porn gives to make myself feel better about the stresses. Just typing that out makes me feel better. Just knowing I do know what's going on is helping me spin away from this shame cycle that tends to happen. Setbacks. They happen. They suck. That doesn't mean everyday is like that. Move on. Breath. I know my worth. I know my value in this world. The rest of this day is not lost at all. I'm being kind to myself.

 

Fear... I think I've written about it before. But it's there now in a weird way. The fear of being alone. The fear of failing. The fear of not being the best version of myself at this time. I have so much fear. Why? What the fuck? I'm just so sick of it. I'm just so tired of being surrounded by it. It's some of the unknowing of it all. I just want to relax and go with it. But I don't know if I ever will. Fuuuuuuck man. This is starting to suck. Growing old sucks. But it shouldn't. I'm having weidr obsessive moments in my head about everything. It's ok. I'll be ok. But today is hard for I don't know what reason.

 

Love. No greater feeling than giving in and receiving it in an authentic way. To look at someone and know that they accept you for the authentic person you are and you accept them for exactly who they are. Faults and all. All the trials, all the evils of the mind, and the times that I've fallen and missed the mark somehow. All of it. I found that person. I love her very much. And the odd thing is I think she loves me too. Too bad she's married. Too bad we found each other at this moment in time where we can't act on any of it. Where we see each other and have this insatiable draw towards each other but can't act on any of the feelings or emotions we are having. It's too bad. It's been weird triggers lately. The want the need. The desire to do something about it. It sucks. It's been floating in my mind in a way that's familiar but also much more of an urge than I remember. That need to feel connected, close. It's so close. Writing here helps. Staying away from the porn helps. Focusing on positive things I do have vs. the things I don't have helps. Trying to maintain that today than anything else.

 

Acting out sucks. Old girl from my past hit me up. Before I even responded I knew how it was going to end. I don't really care for this person. They aren't bad or anything. But this shit has to change. Cause.... what the fuck man. But, I'm human, this is part of it... life is better and I'm not diving into a ditch of shame and humility where I can disappear into. Great.... grand.... wonderful.... fantastic..... Authentic. Be authentic. Cause the acting out person I just was is not someone I want to be. The guy that's existed the rest of the day... he's a cool dude I'm always proud to be a part of. Switch the gears... go forward with love and kindness. You will survive.

 

Death. It's the ever looming part of life that we all have to deal with in one way or another. We all know someone that will die. We will all eventually die. This is our destiny from the moment we are born. When it starts to creep in my head it normally has to do with something real happening in my life. In this case it's my father. He's dying. As much as he fights and battles and struggles to live out some kind of peace in this world, it's coming. I feel it. I love him very much, and in these moments I compartmentalize everything. What's important? What's not? What can I push aside for now, and what do I absolutely need to focus on. If I died today, what would my legacy be? Would I be happy in my final moments. Would I have achieved some measure of peace that I've never known before. My dad has almost died a few times, so we've had the opportunity to think about these questions. And whenever I think about what I've done with my life, my mind always looks at these moments of acting out as moments of weakness, and wasted time. The mind is a funny thing. Even with the knowledge that I absolutely know that I'm going to die and I have limited time on this planet I still choose time and time again to engage in wasteful, hurtful acts. I choose very simply to not live, until the moment comes when I finally will die. Not every moment is like this. Not every hardship is the end of the world. But death is a looming factor in my life. As I'm getting older wasted time now feels so much like time lost. It feels so much like opportunity that is disappearing for me second by second. Until the end. The inevitable end of everything. What is happiness in all of this? What is pain? What is want? What is joy? What is love? Where does it exist in moments of numbing? Any of it. I think about these things more and more. All days are an awakening now. All time is a structure of desire. All contact is special and unique and nothing at all. The rambling. Sorry. It's just the looming part of life that we all have to deal with.

 

Slide. The past few days I've slid. I've acted out. But I have not shamed myself. Until right now. Breathe and recognize. I am not these last couple days of acting out. I am my life's work of worth that has built me up to this moment. I will not look at myself and feel failure from this. I will be strong. But I will still know that this is a part of me. For everything I've written and said and done the most honorable thing I've found is to wake up and live every day to the best of my ability. To forgive myself for the times I slip. And to move forward with love. Writing it helps. Saying it is good too. Acting on it works, every day, day by day. Moving forward in grace with love towards myself. Anger is the emotion of change, and it's only good if I use it to change myself into the man I want to be. Everyday, try my hardest to be the best version of myself that I can be, and continue to move forward. Always forward. Never backwards because that person I was 15 minutes ago was feeling pain and some suffering. And now I'm here to tell them it's ok. And that I forgive you. And that I love you. In the end, it can be as easy as that.

 

Continuing. Because there is no end to the progress or the work or the hope that we give ourselves. At least all the hope I give to myself. To see with eyes unclouded. I numb myself, I lose myself. I hurt myself. The cycle continues. To be authentic and to be free of a moment of weakness is the desire. Cause mostly now they are only moments. I don't reward myself in the way that's healthy. My brain craves the simple pleasure of disappearing and running into loneliness and awkwardness. My brain runs away from it's true purpose, because I've somehow convinced it that it's too hard, or too implausible, or that I don't deserve it. Fast forward to the good parts. Just get to the end. No need to show the work, the struggle, the patience needed. Like watching a video online, just fast forward to the money shot. But you can't do that with life, and even if you could get to the end, it continues. It moves forward. The fantasy takes over, and then the thinking stops. The creativity stiffens and becomes narrow. Now it's just one thing. Me and the acting out moment. Me and the dark person. Me and the reflection. My inner desires, my wants only being realized through some sort of pixel romance. No touch. No smell. No breath. Just fast forwarding to the good parts. As if I'm not worthy of the dance. The courting that happens between lovers and friends. The laughing, the touching, the simple pleasure of listening to someone just be. Somewhere in my brain, my worthiness has been reduced to fast forwarding to the good parts, and never enjoying the real moments. That is the illusion of control. The base want or need of power comes with a click, and in the same way that it's realized it's also diminished. There never was any power or control, and in fact the idea of power and control is just as fake as the pixel body in front of you. Seeming to be in hand but always out of reach. A hijacking of the mind into a state of delusion. The only coping that is there is to numb the truth back into my subconscious. The fake stories I tell myself about being bad, and unworthy, the instant gratification to feel anything at all in the smallest fraction of a second. The strange desire to remain unhealthy. And yet if I do nothing it continues. If I do everything, it continues. But change can come, even now. Change can be something real, even now. Maybe I'm hooked to this moment. This moment after where I convince myself, "NEVER AGAIN!". That was the last time, because when I said that the time before this I didn't mean it. When I told myself that 10 years ago, I was in a bad place. When I said I was done, and a new day is just on the horizon, I laughed at the same time. Maybe it's this moment that I crave. Hope. The hope of a new tomorrow, because tomorrow is where all the good stuff is, and now is only temporary. But tomorrow never exist, because every moment is now. Now is the past, present and future and if I'm not ready to live for this moment as if it's all the moments of my life, then I might just keep trying to fast forward. Cause the truth is that there is no fast forwarding to the good parts of your life. You either are having them, or you are not. Suffering and feeling emotional pain does not mean that life cannot be good. And it is not an excuse to numb it away. I cope, I numb, I run, and I feel powerless at all intervals and tomorrow is not going to change that. Now is the moment. All we've ever had is now. And it continues, forever.

 

I have always been lazy. I have not ever that I can truly recall tried 100% of my effort into anything. I do not think that I have ever thought to myself, this is my all. Sports, I held back for so long. Once, once time in my entire life athletically did I actually go all out. Did I actually push myself to some weird limit that I didn't know I could do. I have always taken the easy and slow path to wherever it is I've tried to get to. It is why I have always skated on the surface of everything. It is why my own sobriety in this mess still alludes me. It is why I fail, and fail, and fail. The thing is, there is nothing wrong with the failing. The failing is life. Is being human. The failing, is the journey. It's the not learning and opening up and being honest and trying to do better that is insane. It is the attachment of ego and worth to my failures that is my ultimate downfall. It is my inability to understand that where I am is a product of my own doing and that the truth is that I am the only one in the world who can fix it as well. But I have to at least try. Knowing everything is worthless without the constant and immeasurable lengths of effort that must go into being the human that I honestly want to be so bad. And also know that failing along the way is just part of the journey towards growth and progress. I hate writing on this thing. I hate putting words to page about this over and over. Or maybe I deep down really love it. Maybe it is my calling that I haven't seen, but I also don't really believe that or want to believe that because it does not bring me pleasure. Only now am I realizing that I am slowly hooked on the depressing state of being in pain, and that the path out of it is through so much resistance that it feels like a mile below the surface. I am, however starting to dig with all my might. I do not want to be lazy. I do not want to be stagnant. I do not want to lose out on everything that I truly know I can have when I sincerely and honestly put my full effort to task. I just have to fucking do it.