This spillage is one of those much needed word vomits from my soul.
Often pushing narratives played out in my mind to the darkest end. To multiple endings. Typically the worst case scenario is mentally prepared and emotionally dealt with. And people wonder why I’m “moody”…because I’m imagining the worst possible outcomes of various events that are currently being worked in my life. And if I begin to allow myself to get lost in my emotions and over-the-top thoughts now…then, if that particular scenario plays out – I’m prepared. Prepared enough to seemingly be unscathed by whatever comes my way. It’s not that! It’s that I’ve already cried, mourned, and crushed the lumps in my throat. This type of thinking comes from the little boy that resided in his headspace when uncertainty was the norm…when words from the adults rendered him numb.
You wonder where my cynicism comes from? Finding it hard to actually believe that people love/like you. Because people, are survivalists – by nature. And will preserve self at almost any cost, even if that means you have to suffer some sort of loss in the wake of their preservation. Examples being – I need to tear you down, to build myself up…I need to lie to you, in order to preserve my agenda. I need to take what is yours because I don’t have it…and I “need” it. Relationally speaking, my assumption that nothing I do is good, or good enough is reinforced by the self-preserving object. I do something, feeling like this is good for them, or this will satisfy them, only to be taken for granted or seemingly not caring about you or what you’ve done. This type of thinking comes from the little boy that resided in his headspace when no one was there for him as a little boy at very important milestones in his life – I understood this in the 2nd grade,
The need to stay in right relationship with people I care about actually stems from embracing death, and knowing that it could literally happen at any time. So more often than not – I say what needs to be said when i feel it needs to be said. No matter how uncomfortable it may seem. Is it such a bad thought to actually feel you don’t have much time left and to live accordingly? Hell, I’m 35 – these are not the thoughts of the geriatric, but of a pretty healthy young man with “years” ahead of him. Nah – When I get in a car, I think “i might die in this car”…when I go to sleep I think “i might not wake up”. Most of the time, I’m walking the scenario out to death. Are these the last people that I’ll ever see? Is this my last meal? Helps me not take things or people for granted, but also to seemingly live care-free. Care-free in the sense that I don’t care what you think about me. Of course this only applies to those that have yet to penetrate the walls surrounding my heart. If you’re already back there then you can dispense havoc all damn day on my neurotic-self – and I can do nothing about it.
All of this love that we fall in...only to be torn apart by circumstance or death one day…that’s romantically and parenthetically speaking. Lends one to ask the question – “what is the freakin point?”
Oh well – I’ll continue to be moody, cynical, and apprehensive about relationships because there are too many people being fake as hell with themselves and others. And if being a dark thinker is what brings me to these points of truths, then so be it.