Tired

I'm tired. So tired of all of it. 

I'm tired of being disregarded as a friend, a human, a family member, just a person in general.

I find it sad that I've had to condition myself to "not care" about certain things, just to try and minimize the damage it can, and will do to me.

Those who know me know I've mentioned, at times, that no one has even tried to throw me a birthday party in, probably, 15 or so years.

I threw myself one two years in a row, only to have it stolen by a self-centered family member.

That would be bad enough, as it sits, if it weren't for the fact that there seems to be some sort of party, or gathering for any little thing for anyone else.

Hell, they don't even have to be related to us to get a party!

I'm not looking for some big blow out, but, for the love of Christ, I dated a girl for just under 8 years, who never once bothered to even try to have a small get together for me.

I never ask for much, even if I'm in dyer need of it, but, there's one day a year that you would think I'd be treated nicely, made too feel special. Right?

Far too much to ask. Far, far too much.

Now, if you know me, this would seem odd, as my birthday isn't until December. But, it's hot off the couple of recent parties. One for my ex-sister-in-laws son, who isn't the son of my brother. They have the party here. Then, one of my nieces is apparently moving, and having a kid (daughter of a half-brother I've rarely ever seen due to his criminal ways, and the girl I've not seen in, I'd say, 7-9 years by the way) At least the latter has some sort of blood relation to us.

Anyway, this all just adds fuel on the fire of why, as soon as I'm able to, I am leaving this place, and these people in my past.

A Beautiful Lie

Something I fight with, on an almost daily basis, an inner struggle with outward effects. The thought, the idea, the meaning of having passion.

People can be passionate about damn near anything. Faith, politics, music, photographs, you name it, there is someone who has thrown themselves into that 100%. For better, or for worse, they are doing something meaningful.

Even if it is something you are not profiting off of. The starving artist, hoping to sell a painting at an art walk.

The musician who records a song, and just hopes some people will like it enough to buy an album, a shirt, pay to see them play.

Then, there is me. There are things I like, things I enjoy, things I love. But, I can't put my finger on something I'm passionate about.

I tend to blame it on the time in life leading up to now, but, there are a handful of reasons behind it, none of them easy to explain, and even hard to understand at times. 

I've done things. Written music, recorded music. Played music for others. Created pieces of photoshop "art" for lack of better term, for others, to aid in their passions.

I've stepped in the ring, behind the camera, behind merch tables. That would be the closest thing to attach passion to. Whether it was touring the country, or just driving out 15 minutes to man a table, or whatever it may be.

But, even with that, it is so few, and far between, it's hard to truly enjoy it at the most.

Which is issue #2 for me, living in the moment, or, enjoying it, without having it dampened by something in the past, or knowing it'll be ending in an hour, or whatever it may be.

Let Your Dim Light Shine

I wish I had will power. True will power.

For very short spurts of time I'll eat a little better, or, at least cut out some of the worst items I'll eat.

I'll do good for a few days, a week, maybe even a month. Then I figure, I've been good, I can have, let's say, one can of soda. Or glass, whatever. But, then it'll go from one can, to one 2 liter, to one 12 pack. It's really bad.

In my mind, I am split. I eat what I eat because most of the time, it's the only happier feeling I get. That delicious chip, that tasty slice of pizza. So, if I eliminate that, or even change it just a bit too much, then what do I have left?

Then, on the flip side there is that part of me that just wants it all to end sooner than later. So, if I keep eating so shitty, at some point something in my body will give up. I've always joked, to myself, that the way I eat is a form of very slow suicide. It's hard for me to picture a bright light at the end of the tunnel I've been in for, what, a decade now? Maybe more. It really is. I still hold out that little bit of hope that if one thing changes, just enough, something will click.

Whether it be a certain job, finding some random hobby type of thing that just draws me in. Something to make me feel like this existence has a god damned point, you know?

But, maybe that's a stupid thing, in the long run, to hope for.

Fade Out

I am mentally drained. So much anxiety, and stress. I'm pulling myself 100 different ways, and in some senses I want to do each of them, and none of them. Some are compatible, some are not.

No matter what I do for now, none of these matter, not for a few years. So, somehow I have to try really hard to cope with my situation. I am stuck in it.

Part of me wants to just be at the end of the decade, get on with life, and have these next few years just be another bad memory, emotional scarring on my mind, and try to move on. But, obviously I must deal with now as best I can. The next 2-3 months will be the biggest struggle, in about 5 different ways. For the first time in, well, probably ever, I'm looking forward to the Summer. Only for the fact that I'll be passed this patch of shit.

It's hard to really enjoy much now, not like enjoying things has really been a huge part of my makeup, hah. There are the little things, the nights out, a movie, whatever it may be. But, sometimes it is just the bandage on top of the gaping stab wound of life.

Then there is the part of me that just wants to disappear, and let it all end, fading out hidden from view.

Who the fuck knows anymore.

Denial in Absolution

Strange thing, the other day. Not going to dip into too much detail, because if/when it comes to it, I am doing my best to leave no trail for anyone to stop me.

But, as I started... the other day I passed by the area where I had come so close to driving myself to, and ending it not too many months ago. I tried not to think about it too much as we appoached and passed by. All in all, I don't think that'd be the spot anymore, if it came to it. In all honestly, if the time comes, I imagine just walking off into the nowhere. Living out a few days, a week, maybe a month tops, and just fading away.

In a sad poetry, that seems far more fitting of my life than some big grand jump off of this, shoot yourself, whatever other methods you want to think of. Those seem too violent for my nature, and why shouldn't I die as I lived? In the background, where no one noticed?

Fuck this, I'm done here.

Hesitation

I've been thinking a lot over the last couple of weeks (I know, shocking, isn't it?) Being that it's now just over a year since my failed attempt at moving on with my life, leaving Cali, and manning up, let's say for sake of what I'm dreadfully realizing in my life.

I digress... as I said, I've been thinking. I have many faults, obviously. Yes, I know, everyone has theirs. I am me, I deal with mine, others deal with theirs. 

One of my greatest foes in life, is my own hesitation. I actually got enough up to leave my job of almost 7 years. I took a month for myself, to decompress, get affairs in order. I had thought about leaving for so long, but, now it was on the precipice of being my reality.

I said my goodbyes, did the rounds as best I could. Boxed up my entire life, shoved as much of it as I could in my car, got in, and actually left.

In hind site, two opposites are clear:

1. I should have had something waiting for me. A job, a place, friends, SOMETHING. The fact that I was moving into a new state, with no friends or anything eventually got to me, among other insecurities.

2. I should have said "fuck it" and stuck with it, at least for a few months. 

I had told myself, before leaving, that I'd give myself at least 6 months, unless things got really bad. I ended up giving myself a couple days.

I fucked up bad. 

Given, since coming home I was able to tour with Spence, and got back an old friend because of it. I got to ring announce for IWL, worked the music for Mach 1, and camera work at MWE. All things I would not have had, had I stayed gone. Or, perhaps I would have with other companies, other places (minus the Spence tour, of course)

Given my current situation, it was obviously the wrong choice, as now I'm stuck in a position that is killing me, in so many ways.

I try to be as strong as I can, but, I am starting to fear that I might be more bi-polar, than just suffer from depression itself. I still am very depressed. Maybe I deserve it. I know I'm my harshest critic (even reading these blogs, you don't know the half of how hard I on myself.) but, at the same time, I'm just lost.

Part of me wants a defining moment. That point where you feel like you're worth it, like a man, something. A right of passage almost. 

This one is going to end here, somewhat abruptly, yes. But, I'm just making it feel worse by saying this, but, it's something I feel the need to release.

State of Life and Death

I'm so tired. Physically, emotionally.. all of it. All I really, really need right now, is something so simple. Work. For Christ's sake I'm not asking for a 6 figure full time benefit laden job. Hell, 20 hours a week is just fine.

Beyond the facts that I NEED a job, my life is completely being held hostage by the lack of one.

No money, so, no gas to go anywhere. What gas I have has to be used very sparingly.

Entertainment is a hit and miss, monetarily. There's nothing I really need. but, just to be able to get out of the house, and do something positive would be great.

I fight, and fight, and fight. Put in applications, have had a couple interviews. It's killing me.

Ask yourself... how many times have you awaken, and wished you hadn't? I mean beyond the "I don't wanna go to work" or do whatever tedious task that may lay ahead?

How often to do wish that some catastrophic issue would arise, heart attack, aneurysm, whatever. Something that could put you out of your misery like that?

i do, very often, and sometimes daily.

See, as controversial a thought this would be, if anyone ever really read these. I'm far too cowardly to kill myself. There still lies a little hope in me that things will improve. But, at the same time, I could lay out some pros and cons from, let's say the last 5 years, since I've been struggling with this affliction for far longer than that.. it seems like a nice number.

There are many things that are far better now, than they were then. Obviously one thing is massively worse, but, I do not speak of it, even if it eats away at me constantly.

But, beyond that, all of the better stuff in my life hasn't really changed anything. I love the wrestling shows, helping Spence, all those things. but, at the end of the day, life still sucks. I don't know if it's just because it has for so long for me. Maybe I can't be happy. I have no clue. I'll have a day, here and there, where things are fine. But...

I have no idea what happens once we're gone. Is that the end completely? Do you go to a Heaven or Hell? Reincarnation? Something else? no one will ever know, until it's their turn. And honestly, I feel that I am a bit of a waste of resources. Burdensome on those around me. While I try my best to be helpful, aiding people, advancing what I can. If I can never feel worthy of life, do I have a right to keep having one?

Angel, or Demon

Over the last few days I've been re-watching the series Heroes. Even though I'm not a fan of how the last season or so went, I have many strong connections with this show, and it's themes.

For the majority of my life, I've done what i can to live it in a good light. Sure, there was always darkness, but, that was my darkness.

If a friend was in need, and I could help, I would. No matter how many times I may have been ignored, or left to my own devices by that very same friend.

Looking at my life, what has happened, I tend to ask. What the fuck was I thinking?

Given, I ask that about a lot of things that have happened.

It has made me think, many times. What would happen if I had power. I'm not even talking about super powers or anything, just, actual power. How long could I go before I abused it? Before I made those under me suffer the wrath? I've paid a lot of dues in life. Whether it be simple grunt work, to running errands for whatever reason. Still, what do I really have to show for it? I can't find work, because of many things, but I have no single piece of paper from some muckity muck saying I know how to do something.

I'm sorry I just know, without having to spend $40,000 on some school that used to be something you did as an apprentice, and learned on the job.

But,
I digress. 

My point here, is that, if I could ever truly have some sort of power, I think I would do what I can to keep it, to grow it. Heroes... villains... It really does come down to whose perspective you view it from... does it not?

The Butterfly Effect

You always hear stories in life, about how certain people turn out they way they do. For instance, say, growing up, you had an abusive parent. Let's say you had a father who drank too much, and either physically, or verbally abused you, a sibling, mother, or any combination.

With that scenario, you either grow up to do the same, continuing the circle of violence, and pain. Or, you turn out the opposite. Of course there are always people who find a path in the middle, but, usually you hear of the extremes.

It's hard to explain my childhood, and not just because I can't recall most of it. I had a blah existence. I never knew my father. Mother worked, usually 9-6ish jobs. So, it was my grandparents who took me to school, picked me up, and all that. We've, realistically, never been a truly close family.

I'm not here today to talk about that, so much, this is my blog, and this is about me.

So. Yeah. Growing up that way, there are times that I do recall, and it was usually times that are on the negative side, of course. Times when it seemed like choices just skipped me. My next youngest sibling is my sister, who is ten years older than I, for those who don't know. So, by the time I really could be a coherent human, she was a teenager, so, no one near my age. That was what it was. So, her daughter, my niece, is only 8 years younger than I. So, I have more memories of her and I, than my siblings. 

So, let's throw out a for instance.

We used to do something every summer, for summer vacation. Nothing cool like family trips, just trips to Disneyland, Knotts, some amusement park more often than not.

So, forgetting a bunch of details, I remember one year it was up to us where we went. I said one place, my niece said another, and they picked hers. It's the only time I recall us having real input on where we'd go... and I was ignored. This is how I view my life, in a nutshell.

So, with that kind of cold, and somewhat negligent upbringing (trust me, there is much, much more. But, I'm not going into it now, perhaps pieces will, or have come out before) I have never, ever, felt like I amount to anything.

I've had people tell me how appreciative they are of me, how much I've made their lives easier in some instances. Lots of praise for things. But, thanks to how I grew up, I'm so fucking damaged, I get no real enjoyment from life. I actually, almost hate being alive.

Sometimes you hear the "what if" question. If you could change one thing, etc. I have multiple answers. If I could go back and change something in my life, I would have pursued wrestling at 17, like I wanted, before I was basically laughed at for asking to look into schools.

But, when I really sit down, and think.... if there was one thing I could truly, honest to God change about my life. It would be me having one. 

I know there wasn't any plan on me being born. I know I was an accident. It happens. But... for any good I've brought this world. Laughs with friends, helping someone out, being the right guy at the time for whatever the situation was. I hate my life. Some of it is attributed to how I was raised, yes, of course, that laid the groundwork for who I am. But, I've fucked it up pretty bad. In some ways, beyond real, true repair.

I really don't know how much longer I care to fight for it. I am trying, some things have fallen my way, sort of. Kinda in the way that the shit hit the fan, and you got it all over you, but, hey, it didn't fly in your mouth! Kind of way, if that makes sense.

I feel worthless, meaningless. Just a burden on others, which I am reminded of on a weekly basis, if not more often. I am my harshest critic. I am the villain in my story... and sometimes I feel like the Grim Reaper is meant to be the hero....

What am I Fighting For?

I need a vent, a real, true vent. But, there is nothing tangible to aide in this release.

so, I figure, why not go here, and bitch some more. It doesn't completely help, but, it doesn't really hurt to do it either. So, let me uncork my skull, and leak some brain damage on this screen.

I am trying, I am fighting to live. In ways, at least. There still is that small ponytail of hope residing in the deepest part of my being. Maybe things will start falling into place, leading me from the depths of the dark darkness that I inhabit. But, on the flip side, that darkness is such a part of me, what if there really isn't a me without it?

To anyone who may read this, now, in the future, whenever. Let me throw this question, or these questions out.. since I tend to go one way, and stumble off a path or three.

Have you ever awaken, and have been upset that you've done so?

No, I don't mean the usual "dammit, I don't want to go to work" or, car alarms woke you up. I mean, as it, dammit, I have to go through another day. Can you actually imagine what that is like? I can. It's just about the worst feeling you can have, or, well, I, at least.

In so many ways, I hate being alive. My life is meaningless... utterly pointless. Very little direction. What direction there is, is just a fog of "ooh, that could be cool if..."

There are many people whom I care about, love being with. Share so many laughs, good times, struggles what have you. But, I've asked myself this many times, more so recently, but, I'm sure I've thought it before.

What am I fighting for? 

I don't fear dying, or death. I understand it, I know it will happen, whether it be natural causes at 90, a bus hits me at 35. Whatever, it is inevitable. But, what's the point of me living? All I really do is take up space. nothing is advancing my life, I have very little idea on what to do to advance it.

but, then the idea creeps in, what if i go to school, get some kind of degree, get that job, but, then feel the same? 

I just don't know. I suppose I'll keep trying, whatever. I'll stop here, because anything else will be too self deprecating.