Dear Me, March 2nd, 2014

Hey Buddy,

I know about the thoughts and reservations that you have been having lately… which now seem to be coming to a peak moment. You have, to this point, failed to truly respond to any of those nagging doubts and have led your current relationship down a road it will not survive. This is the primary reason why I am here in this non-existent moment of comparative fiction.

In your neglect of your own mental health, you have greatly contributed to the soon-to-be demise of your relationship as well as hurt any chance you have at a normal life going forward for some time. You are headed to an explosion of epic proportions, tomorrow as a matter of fact, and you will try to take your own life. She will leave you, the same night you are hospitalized in fact; she will sleep with another man and never come back. I’m here not to change things, clearly, but to offer you a glimpse at the world that will come to be as you progress further from the smoldering ruin your life is about to become. That lesson will show you the importance of having a complete self and help you push forward in the world with your feet in the real world’s mud.

First, I want to say that I am aching in my recollection of the hurt you are going to feel, and most of it will be incredibly painful since it was self-inflicted. Right now, you have been compensating for your downfall with substances, food, cigarettes, just about anything you can get your hands on to take you away from the reality you are in. You haven’t dealt with anything; it has all been bottled and fermented into resentment. You never tried to talk to her the way you would now, and maybe even if you had, she wouldn’t understand. You refused to address the issues up-front or with any level of self-admission, and therefore, you are going to suffer a calamity as your most precious relationship breaks apart forever. The hurt that this event brings will not be resolved for more than 4 years, continuing to this very day as a matter of fact. You loved her in this intense, abstract, not functional way, and you neglected your responsibilities in your relationship which contributed to its destruction. It will take you many years to fully understand and adapt beyond this moment. She had a part to play in this mind you, but there is nothing to gain from summarizing things that are outside of the self, as they can’t be changed.

I am so sorry. You are going to feel broken for a long time after tomorrow night. You will miss her in ways you never knew were there before, and feel her absence deep inside the core of the most vulnerable self. You will understand how she was neglected. She was the person you loved the most so far in your life, and her loss with your assistance is something you will not be able to move past. In a subconscious/telepathic, you are still linked to her, as though some invisible tether connects you despite the distance, and hatred lodged between, and that twitching bait has incited more trauma, more pain…

This upcoming disaster happened because you needed to learn about the value of self-love. I had to acquire this knowledge painfully, humbly, but earnestly. I can’t undo things that happened, and I will never erase the place inside me that still belongs to her… but I can learn. I can adapt and grow.

If it is anything for you now, know that because of this event, you will learn that your mental illness is the thing you need to be most concerned about in your life. You will find a way to help yourself defend against the same issues you have had in the past, and fallen victim to. The truth of this journey is the ability to appreciate who you are without restraint. Pride and acts that demonstrate a morally honest compassion for things that are “right” in terms of common sense are going to be the evidence you use to build up proof through action.

Your love has been sought from without in the past; filling you up with a feeling of worth that is artificial, untrue and not properly earned. It is similar to presenting the one you desire most with an empty vessel and expecting her to be excited to fill it. Without the lesson of the soon-to-be failure, you might never have known how to find who you were and live that life proudly into the future. Speaking for myself, there has been no greater remedy to the onset of depression than the long road of positive steps that have led me to this moment. I know you, past me, are not there yet, but you will be headed out of the deep hole in not too long. My echoing thought for you is to tolerate this great sadness with an idea that it will not last indefinitely, but must be respected properly. Let it sink deep into you and know it. You will feel the lowest moment of your life and this is part of the understanding that you will gain.

The realization of pain will help you avoid situations like that in the future, while also garnering you the most success and self-worth you will know, at least, thus far. Hurt, regret, sadness and anguish are a part of how we learn. I remember the agony, and I know some things not to do to avoid feeling it again. I do not wish to fall into the same ancestral rut that contains the bones of all the other me versions before? I refuse.

I am there to help you, but only to provide you with a look farther down the road. There is always the next day as long as you are alive, and I know you will continue to do something with the existence you have created. That shape will change depending on who you chose to become, but if pride is the needle that guides your direction, I think things are going to be just fine. You have already done more than you ever have, and this is only the beginning of where your life will go along your new road.

Hold on friend, you will soon be feeling the sun on your face.

Sincerely,

You

Mud

Sometimes the dirt stays on; an unwanted passenger that degrades what it congeals upon. I feel this way with my brain: the coatings of splattered muck are easy to diagnose, or render a few good whacks upon them to dislodge.

There is are a series of security clearances and clean rooms preventing immediate action, but not deliberation. Part of me says the past is mud, the other can’t let go of the string the red balloon was tied to. He hasn’t seen the balloon in years but still holding on.

Everyone should try love on for size at some point. I found the whole thing to be an exfoliating activity which has subsequently scraped off my desire to know any more. Trauma has that effect, along with a once prominent self hate. Some things are setting while others are about to rise above the horizon.

What am I doing out here?

I remember sniffy sounds at night.

Radiant, passive, trusting.

Currently snagged in a gooey resentment.

Rejected, discarded, regretted, history.

+

Dear Head,

Your relationship to my brain has always been central to our cooperation, so, I believe you will trust my words (said in earnest, from the heart). I know that the information you are being inundated with right now is some pretty rancid, unrelenting vitriol, however, that is only part of the reality you and I reside in. I am not discounting the relevance of allowing emotional expression, but I do expect a bipartisan effort in forward operations regardless. Everyone can have their say, as long as we can all still function normally (ideally).

Despite the revelatory insurrection, there are several things which can be said, truthfully, definitively:

Eric, you have a magnetic personality, a deadly poignant sense of humor, and a charisma that inspires others.

Despite all the numerous mistakes you have made in your past, you are still out there trying for better (nearly) every single day.

Lastly, you are proven strong through fact, capable and dependable in your aspirations, and your duties are done with love and honor.

Despite a history littered with debilitating landmines, there are still compromises, missteps and occasional mutilations. The future can’t be set in one direction, because it is an amalgamation of myriad recesses, peaks, troughs and all the undulations of a matured life.

Sometimes just a few freely flung words have a significant impact…

The self is a puzzle with pieces that change shape, move on their own or hide somewhere far away, never to become a part of the completed picture.

Blind

Smeared streak across glass–

Prune-like pulp chunk,

Blasted splat to barrier.

Vacantly gulping–

Eyeball-seeking,

The other side.

Embossed in “la la” afterglow,

A faded twirly skirt no one wears,

In a vacant room–

11th floor–

A light was left on.

Spatula’d off the surface–

Plorped into a dustbin,

Mingling with the glops–

Deposits within firmament.

My Head The Tree

I think I’m temperamentally inclined towards observation on a geologic scale, but still momentarily vulnerable or shortsighted in the face of other organisms. It’s an odd comparison to resolve, and the places where they meet are the confluence of contrasts. I tend to think of this place as a rural village with ox-plowed fields and people eating beans. The volatility of places being a magnet for interest, I allege.

I’m starting to develop an appreciation for how far off the deep end of existence I have fallen. Down in the abyssal trench, there are lots of tiny blind crabs eating thin flakes of compressed dolphin poop that fall from above like a shit soaked snow globe. It is a sustainable existence, if not an inglorious one.

FYI: I need to do more metaphors where I’m not eating poop at the end.

I have several meat flies following me. Maybe that’s because I’m carrying a big hunk of rotten flesh in my pocket. I can’t help but sniff and remember back to when in smelled like meat.

Oh meat, you and I could have had it all. This has been the main issue.

Now, much maligned by necessity, my stumbling forward is sure to agitate the Nargles. I’m sure they are up to something, but I’m not concerned enough to google them to find out what they are.

Fleeterly

For me, being a part of “something” is a carnal need. I do not exist to affect nothing or no one. The beauty of being alive is a one-time gift even in the darkest recesses of contemplation. Have the traumas of my life shaped who I am? Undoubtedly and proudly. There is no strength quite like being whole unto oneself. Am I there yet…? No, I’m not. There is still a big nasty growing of snaggy brambles and thistles in the way. Better than I used to be, though. This last should be a damn mantra by now. I believe, I act, and I empower. The answer has always been in me, which makes me aware of how to stimulate the joy of realization to someone in need.

Today positively added to my recovery journey. I ventured out to talk with my psychologist and enjoyed a table outreach event at a utility company campus. I’m looking back on all the events I’ve done this. So many more than I would have projected months ago. I’m growing, Blog, and I feel myself unfurling and snipper-snapping into a crisp breeze. I am making my path through the world, proudly.

Reaching people is a wonderful feeling. Establishing a connection, agreeing to build a bridge, or even just a firm, earnest handshake can be beneficial. I see the pieces of realization scattered about in disarray for the present. One day soon, the picture will begin to develop from all those pieces. Integration, driven by genuine enthusiasm promotes my outward identity. Put the mask on and vanish into a persona. I wish I could take it off and show someone my real face. I have many strings being pulled by loneliness.

The empty space. A hole in my core self that can’t be healed. Ever. Trauma takes me back there, for a time. This is acceptable in comparison to stuffing feelings into an already crowded lunchbox.

There’s today’s thought-vomit. Enjoy? >.>

Have a good night.

Concealed

Ghost-fingers cold–

That spine-shuddering touch,

Eyes scream out in unknowing fear.

Emptied of dreams; memories–

They fall into a dark chasm,

Forsaken, purged by lightning,

Agony–

Again! Again!

Those hopes in trust–

Smeared into opaque nothingness,

Irrelevantly hoping–

Still met by a stranger,

Bereft of words,

Emotions swirling downstream.

Cast into the crucible of torment–

Straining against the surges that come.

Once proud foundations–

Crumbling decay into rot,

Detritus swept away by an outgoing tide.