Man Apart

I'm not new here. Just always lurking around. Reading, absorbing all the stories, advice given, information, help, trying to understand something I dont think can be understood. Theres no rhyme or reason. No rationale. Its just something thats apart of me. I do want to thank someone specifically on the Anxiety board. Hry33. Im probably not the first to tell you but your very generous and kind and helpful to many. Its much appreciated. And on the depression board, as always thanks to Geena, Mermaid, Belize and everyone else that have been welcomed and kind to me.

Im suppose to be a human being. Ive spent my life trying to find out exactly what being a human is. I dont know what life is. Dont know what im meant for, or suppose to do here. My existence is pointless, useless. Im just finding ways to pass time til the end. Maybe if I was more of something. More gifted, talented. Maybe more handsome. Maybe a different skin color. Smarter. And a lot less mentally ill of course. I dont know. Life can be interesting and fulfilling. Just not for me. Im just not interested in being, me.

I have a great memory. I can vividly remember things as far back as 3 years old. Thats why I can still remember the fact that the anxiety i had then is the same as it is now. Only just got worst, and worst. I remember I ran away from school almost every day til 3rd grade. Id cry and cry in class. I dont know why. I was just scared. No matter what anyone said or did, I was just riddled with fear. I made myself a target for abuse. Kids love to abuse the crying little wimpy kid in the corner. They didnt help making me feel safer tying me to a fence and throwing rocks at me. The one thing I cant remember is, at what point was I able to finally accept being there, sit there, and not be afraid anymore. As a child I cant remember when the last night I stopped sitting, looking out of my window, squeezing my lil stuffed rabbit, watching the moon fall and the sun rise, so afraid, distraut and scared knowing I had to go back there.

Im not gonna get into everything else. Im a broken record. Ive talked about my issues at nauseam. Ive been raped, beaten, shot at, stabbed, had my right leg broken being beat up, and I live in a very toxic enviroment around the most disfunctional group of family members ever. My father and sister are in love and my mother somehow tolerates it and tries to pretend theyre not. If I have to catch them having sex again, I will have to break my promise to my mother and move out. She makes me feel like if I leave, im abandoning her. But im not. Im tired of the skeletons in this family. Everything is just swept under a rug and we all pretend like were the Brady bunch on Christmas and birthdays. My father is also a preacher. The hypocrisy right. I always tried to maintain a belief and faith in God, until I caught my dad on the couch with my sister. I guess thats why im so ill. It runs in the family. But oddly enough, I love them. Theyre all I have.

After 7 doctors in 4 months, I finally found a doctor sympathetic and understanding enough to prescribe me a anti-anxiety medication other than the useless Busphar and Atarax the other gave me. I was put on clonazepam .05mg 2 times a day. First time ever Ive been on a benzo. Its a outstanding sleep aid. Maybe a little too outstanding. It knocks me out. As for my anxiety. Um, I dont know. To be continued I guess. I dont feel any different. I take it. I wait a hour. Then I start thinking of things or doing certain activities that causes my fear and my anxiety. I cant tell a difference really. Only a slight improvement if any. Would I be able to get on that plane today? Um, no. But Ill give the medication time.

One of the reasons why I felt a lil motivated to post today was cos I dropped one of my mothers plates this morning. Pieces of glass flying everywhere. I swept it up all in one pile and then I just stared at it. I could see parts of myself reflecting from some of the larger broken pieces. I started crying. I dont know why. I got on the floor and i gathered all the pieces and spread them out and I sat there trying to piece them all back together. For 20 minutes im on the floor, my cat occassionally walking across me, trying as hard as I can to concentrate and put all the pieces back together. It shattered into so many pieces. After 20 minutes I just stopped. There was no way i could do it. Too many pieces. It was like looking at this metaphor of my life. Of my broken mind. All my shattered hopes. All my shattered dreams. All my shattered goals. I spent my whole life on this floor trying to piece myself together. Trying to piece my broken mind together. And I cant. I just cant. I cant explain anything. I dont know what I want. I dont know what I feel or believe in. And I dont know what to do. Its never helps for me to dig up there in this brain of mine. Try to find answers. Trying to make decisions. How can I. My mind is broken. I have no control over my thoughts, my emotions, my mood, my anxiety, and especially my fears.

I want to get on that plane. Regardless of my illness, Im clear about that. I love her. I know that. I want to get on that plane more than anything in this world. But it has nothing to do with courage or having the will. A quadriplegic cant will themselves to walk. The doctor told me its genetic. Its a severe illness. And its conquered me.

She waits. I dont know if I will ever get on that plane. How can I? What would it possibly take. If only... if only I could remember what made me sit still and not be afraid.

I could never write this to her...

I love you Roselyn. I dont know if we can ever be together. But I will suffer til death without you. I cant find my way through or around fear. The ocean is not the biggest thing between us. Only my weakness, my illness, the anxiety that attacks me when I take a step towards you, my confusion, my empty soul, and my fear.

Fear comes full circle. There serpants surround me. But..

I love you so much.