Broken

I was born with broken and missing pieces. My brain doesn’t process information right.

When listening to people talk I hear the words but don’t understand what they are saying because there’s more to it than just the words. My brain doesn’t see the subtle clues that give the extra context to understand what they mean. Their facial expressions, vocal inflection, unusual phrasings, and other nonverbal cues don’t exist for me. I have only the words they say and the meanings the dictionary gives them. Everytime I hear someone talking I am reminded that I’m broken.

I can’t have normal conversations. I have no real interests. My brain is filled with information I’ve obtained by reading about everything I can just to know stuff in an attempt to be able to talk to people. Whenever someone tries to talk to me I have facts and figures, statistics, other peoples opinions, etc stored in my brain to recite like a parrot. I have planned responses to “normal” conversational questions like a computer. I go through the motions in an attempt to look normal. I can have a subject specific discuaaion but I can’t even manage to follow a “normal” conversation because it changes topic too much for me to process. Normal conversations sound like people are saying whatever random thing pops into their head from one second to the next and make no sense to me. When someone tries to talk to me I am reminded that I’m broken

When I’m around people I know I’m uncomfortable, with people I don’t know it’s even worse. I don’t know what’s expected of me, what I’m supposed to say or do. I don’t know how to act or what to say. I’m completely lost in social situations. If there’s more than one person I’m lost and even when it’s only one person unless they’re someone I’m completely comfortable with I’m still lost. Being around people reminds me that I’m broken.

I can’t touch anyone. Physical contact makes my skin crawl. Something as simple as a handshake or even a fist bump leaves me wanting to peel my skin off. That most simple of human interactions, touch, is denied to me. I can’t give a a relative or friend a hug, I can’t curl up on the couch with someone and watch a movie, I can’t have a physical relationship with anyone. I haven’t been given any choice but to be alone. The fantasy of it being any different reminds me that I’m broken.

I’m not a real person. I’m a shell that pretends to be real. Even Pinocchio was more real than me but unlike him there is no Blue Fairy for me. I’ll spend my life avoiding people, and being little more than a puppet going through the motions of being a person whenever I can’t.

I’m was born broken and there is no fixing me.

I need to be safe

I’m fighting tears and I’m not really sure why other than my issues are piling up on me again. I’m feeling so lost and alone right now and I don’t know how to ask for help. Unsent letters aren’t going to help, this isn’t going to help, going for a drive won’t help, and neither will going somewhere that there’s people. It all just reinforces how isolated I am. I can’t do social unless I’m familiar and comfortable with the place and the people and even then it’s only if its just a couple people.

I can’t ever go anywhere new because it’s just to much to handle, nothing familiar or safe, people I don’t know and can’t understand because I don’t pick up on subtleties others take for granted, if I can’t find a place to hide and become part of the furniture I lose it. I go to the same places everyday like clockwork, same routine, same people, same places. It’s safe, but it’s not. Even in the same comfortable places I’m cut off, with the same familiar faces I’m alone, in the same safe places I’m still not really OK.

I don’t know what to do. The only way I can manage my issues is by avoiding situations that make them an issue which isn’t managing them at all. I get through life by avoiding life because it’s all I can do. I can’t even talk to anyone about it because there’s only a couple people I can open up to like that and life has seen to it that I can’t get together with them to just talk to them without having a bunch of other people around which will keep me from being able to talk.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t even sleep right, it’s been a couple years since I could sleep through the night and I can’t remember the last time I didn’t wake up with a damp pillow and tears drying on my cheeks. I’m alone, I’m afraid, I’m barely managing to get through day to day, and as much it would help talking to a friend and just getting it out isn’t an option that’s being given to me. I wish I could just sit with someone and cry for a bit just to get it out, a friendly shoulder to catch my tears and arms to keep me safe would do so much more for me than rambling on in a blog but that’s what I have.

Unsent Letters

I’ve often written letters to people that I had no intention of sending. It wasn’t that I was saying things I wouldn’t tell them in person, it was just that I didn’t need to tell them. Sometimes it was just because I needed take what was in my head or heart and make it “real.” Other times it was that I just needed to get it out and they were someone I knew I could talk to so I “told” them even though they never knew. Sometimes they went unsent because I didn’t need them to know how I felt because I was happy with what I had and them knowing could have changed that.

So I wrote letters. I put what was inside on paper, I wrote their name on an envelope, I placed the letter inside, and sealed it. Then I put it away. Some of them I still have. Some I have lost over time. None will ever be delivered.

The only thing that has changed is some of those letters are now digital. Emails and messages that don’t get sent, sometimes just a text file on my computer. I still write them, I just don’t use pen and paper much anymore.

Is it weird that I do that? Maybe, but it helps. I know I could say everything in those letters, but for my own reasons I write each one and put it away. Each is a piece of me, safely tucked away where it will most likely never be seen.

I’ve been doing it more lately. Things in my life are a mess, I’m feeling alone in the world, and I’m starting to think stupid thoughts because of it. It’s crossed my mind to just do whatever it takes to fall asleep with someone even if it means being a one night stand for someone that doesn’t mean anything to me. I’d get to fall asleep next to someone and at least feel like there’s someone there but I’d hate myself for it. I’d be using letting her use me, be using her, and even though it would be a mutual arrangement I’d hate myself for it. That’s not me.

Nights are the worst for me. I lay in bed awake for hours, don’t sleep more than 4 hours total because I keep waking up, and while I sleep my dreams are troubled. Awake or asleep I can’t find any relief, The world of flesh or the world of dreams makes no difference, there is no peace for me in either.

Almost 4 Years

It’s almost four years since I Optimus left us. There’s no way I can type what I’m feeling. It’s not that the words aren’t there, they are, I’d just never get them out. It still hurts to think that someone who deserved to live a long life wasn’t given the chance.

Those of you who know how much of a part of the family a “pet” is will understand. Those of you who’ve been following me know how isolated I am from the world and will understand my love for my fur-babies.

I miss Him. If you want to know what it truly means to love unconditionally, Opty can teach you, He taught me. Then He was gone.

Optimus Prime May 23, 2007 to Feb. 18, 2009
88 1/2 Hours
Oh, you’re a Transformer now? You think you’re Optimus Prime or something?”
I used to love the snow
Birdie Buddies
Dreams within Dreams
Six Kookies
It’s their birthday
Six Months
Letter to Opty – from an older post, deserves its own.
Almost a year
Optimus Prime

Just One

The power was out again. Once again I was sitting alone in the dark with nothing to distract me. It’s bad enough when I do have distractions, when I don’t it’s just too much for me. The power was out for a little over 4 hours which was about 4 hours too long. With nothing to do but think my mind went down paths it shouldn’t go down. 14 years alone, the betrayal that led to that, the realization during that time that almost everyone id ever called a friend wasn’t, and 4 years of constant pain I’ll be living with the rest of my life is just too much to handle all at once.

I need a friend. One really close friend I can turn to when I’m falling into those dark places. One person whos door i can knock on at any hour when I need a hug, or to cry on her shoulder, or both. One friend who’ll let me crash on her couch and talk to me as I fall asleep so my dreams might have her voice in them and not be so bad. Someone who’ll just hold and talk to me without waking me on those nights if I cry in my sleep so I know I’m not alone.

I need one really close friend I can let my guard down with.

Armor and Princesses

Woke up Friday morning at 8am, it’s now after 3am Monday and in the last 67 hours I’ve gotten 10, maybe 12 hours of broke up sleep. One hour here, another hour there, but nothing solid. My dreams keep me from sleeping peacefully, they cause me to cry in my sleep, and those tears wake me often enough that I’m starting to consider it normal to wake up with a damp pillow and tears on my cheeks. I try to lay down, to get some sleep, but fear of my dreams keeps me awake. Over the last year and a half I’ve gotten used to less than 5 hours of sleep a day. I’ve even kind of gotten used to it being broken up. Im used to being tired almost all the time. I don’t like it, I wish it would change, but I don’t expect it to.

More and more I find myself wishing there was someone in my life. Someone I could call, talk to, a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes I wish I could ask someone to just hold me, to talk to me till I fall asleep, to let me fall asleep in her arms and if I cry in my sleep to just hold me a little tighter and whisper in my ear so I know I’m not alone. Even if it didn’t help me sleep, having someone I can trust like that and let my guard down with, someone I can show my pain and weakness to would help me manage it because it would give me the strength to be just as strong for her when she’s in need as she is for me when I am.

Whether she’s just a friend or more, I need my princess to come into my life, don my armor, and keep me safe in her arms for a while so that I can be the knight she deserves.

Some day I’ll find her

She Walks in Beauty
By Lord Byron (George Gordon)
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Some day I’ll find her, she’ll be everything I’ve ever wanted, more than I ever needed, and far more than I deserve, but when I find her she’ll feel the same way about me.

One day I’ll hold her in my arms, look into her eyes, and find her doing the same and we’ll just know.

My Life in Under 10 Minutes – Updated

Breathe in, knife in. Breathe out, knife out. For 3 1/2 years that’s been my life. Every breath, every day. Air leaking into my chest puts pressure on things that shouldn’t have pressure on them leaving me with knives stuck in in the center of my back, between my shoulder blades, and left of center in my chest. I used to sleep to get away from it, I’d have 6-8 hours pain free and that gave me strength, but early last year it started showing up in my dreams and by May it was in every dream every night. For over a year and a half now I haven’t been able to get away from it for long, and in recent months not at all. The depression and fear I live with because of this is getting a tighter grip on me because I just can’t fight it anymore.

Over a year and a half of not being able to escape from pain. Over a year and a half of not being able to get a good nights sleep. It’s been taking it’s toll on me. Late last summer I started losing words. Last Octobeer a waitress asked me what I want to drink, I’d drew a blank and after staring at her for 30 seconds I ordered “hot, black, in the silver thing” because even though I drink it everyday the words coffee and urn were gone. I’m too tired to think straight, body and mind are just too drained. I can’t even come up with “physically and mentally exhausted” half the time because they’re gone too. I’m afraid to try to talk to anyone because the only time my brain works right is when I’m pissed, the rest of the time I can’t trust anything I might try to say to come out right. Even blogging is an effort, I read, reread, and then repeat a couple times and often end up just posting and hoping for the best because I can’t concentrate enough to tell if I made any sense.

I look to the future and see more of the same. The problem that causes the pain isn’t going to go away on it’s own so I’ll live with that till I die, the only alternative is it gets worse. I see no possibility of a good nights sleep so I’ll keep being drained. My brain will keep losing words. I’ll continue to be unable to even order a cup of coffee right. Not a future worth looking forward too.

I used to be able to put on a show of being OK, I could push the pain and everything else far enough away to get a forced smile on my face and keep from pulling my arm against my side, to ignore the additional stabs in my side, back, and chest. I paid for it later because the pain was worse when it came back, but for a little while I could look like there was nothing wrong and keep a friend from worrying abut me. Not anymore though. It’s been months since I could keep that mask on for more than an hour and even that is more than I can handle. Putting on the mask means when it falls off I fall apart. I end up curled up in a ball crying and can’t stop. I fight against that everyday and most of the time I win but not always and putting on the “I’m OK” show means I will lose everytime.

That’s my life. Pain, exhaustion, depression, fighting for control, and looking to a future that has nothing else in it. If it wasn’t for my Baby Kitties I’d just give up, find a hole and crawl in it. Even they’ll leave me. One left right after the pain started, the rest will leave one by one until they’re all gone. Eventually I won’t even have them. They’re all I have now, and when they’re gone I’ll have nothing worth having. I took some comfort from the thought that it would be a dozen years or so till that happens, but now I may have to find them a new Daddy or Mommy because i may not even have a place for myself to sleep much longer. They’re all I have, without them I’d be completely lost, and I may lose them sooner than I should.

Original post

Himitsu Wo Shiritai (I want to know your secret)

I am man and machine. Eminently logical and powerfully emotional at the same time. My mind and my heart continually battle for control and in doing so create balance through their conflict.

In moments I can analyze a situation, determine potential options, determine the possible outcomes of each option, weigh the pros and cons of each scenario and provide the best course of action. I can do so with or without regard to the feelings of those involved making me the ideal sounding board when advice is needed, but in my own life I, when those I care about are involved, I always take the course that avoids hurting them even when it means hurting myself and never let on that I put them before myself. Though many do, I do not consider that a flaw.

To most, I appear cold on the outside but that is only because I rarely show my emotions. I have never been comfortable with my feelings because they run strong and deep. When hurt, it goes to the core of my soul because to hurt me you must hold a place in my heart and if you do my feelings for you run to the core of my soul as well.

If I love you, even if I do not tell you, then my heart is yours for the taking. It’s not pretty, it bears many scars left by those who have abused it, taken advantage of the place they held in it, tossed it, and me, aside carelessly, and used me, but it has not hardened and is not beyond repair. That does not mean I will give it over to anyone with ease, I have been hurt too often by those I have allowed to take it making me guarded about who I reveal it to. If I let down my guard with you, even if I have told yo I love you, that does not mean I am asking you to take my heart, only that I not only love you but also trust you enough to let you see past the walls I built around myself. If you are such a person then you are someone I would storm the gates of all the hells in the universe for.

If I hate you, it means you were once someone I loved and you did something you knew would tear out my heart and leave a scar that would never heal on its own. You have damaged me, wounded me in a way that only another can fix and placed another wall that will keep them out around me. Your actions have made it harder for me to be close to someone else and denied them the happiness I may have been able to bring into their life. Your actions, whether intentional or not, have not only hurt me but have hurt someone else I care about. I would have faced any demon to keep you from being hurt and you have made yourself into the demon that hurt another I would do the same for. If you have earned my hatred, you have lost any chance of regaining my love.

For those who didn’t catch the reference in the title:

Lonely Dreams and Damp Pillows

From February 4, 2012

13 Years, its a long time to be alone, even longer when the most of the people you call friends are just that, people you only call friend. It’s not their fault, I’ve kept people away. For 13 years I’ve kept everyone at least arms lenth away even when I needed someone closer than that. I don’t even know if I know how to let people close anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I’d even want to. I’ve learned the hard way that people in general can’t be trusted, that they can pretend to be someone they aren’t completely convincingly, that they’ll use and discard others like trash or a broken toy. Sometimes the need to have someone close in my life is so intense its like a weight crushing me, the rest of the time its a dull ache that doesn’t go away. More nights than I care to think about I cry in my sleep but I never remember those dreams. Even when the tears wake me I can’t remember the dreams. I’m not sure I want to. It would tell me what I need to deal with, if its even something that can be dealt with, but if its nothing specific it wouldn’t do any good to remember them. Maybe I just need to accept that this is how it is and be done with it.