Maybe Not

I don’t know if I belong here.

Maybe I’ll let you decide.

The first thing I remember about growing up is feeling like a burden. I was 6 years old when my father was laid off, and I put the guilt on my own back, feeling like (maybe it wasn’t my fault but…) I was an extra mouth to feed when my family had nothing. I was never beaten, Never abused. My father’s not a drunk, nor is my mother a user. My parents are still together, and my whole family talks… at least small talk. I’m even still welcome after all I’ve screwed up. I shouldn’t feel this way.

The second thing I remember, is being nothing like my brothers, or my sister. They do music, I do martial arts (which my mother’s insistance on letting me practice and paying the ridiculous tuition almost killed me). They do religion, I gave it up (and telling my mother I wasn’t going to church anymore almost killed her). They stayed local, I moved away to go to school…. then failed at life there too, and was welcomed home with open arms. And hated myself all the more.

But life progressed. I skipped lunch everyday starting in elementary school. It was my small sacrifice to the family, maybe my parents could save a few dollars. Then I had to start making excuses for why I didn’t make a lunch. “I forgot”, “I got up late”, “I don’t get hungry”…. then I started getting physically sick if I thought about food after eating breakfast.

And life continued. Through awkward years, and lots of rejection… just to explain: I come from a tall stock. I was 5’9” in 6th grade. At that same time (partly from genetics, partly from my habits) I was 95 lbs.

I grew up with my only dream being Fatherhood. And maybe it’s strange for a first grader to want to be a dad. But I did. So the rejection started early. I still remember most of the girls who rejected me. I got to 50 when I got too depressed to try any harder. So… my only known dream was continuously crushed.

Other than that, I couldn’t figure out what I wanted out of life. So the “what I want to be when I grow up” homeworks always sucked for me. It wasn’t until my sister asked me “what makes you happy?” that I realized I’m not. I escaped into movies, or into schoolwork, into videogames, or sleep.  I felt worthless. Bothersome.

I wanted people to forget I ever existed so I might not exist. I thought that if every memory of me were to be wiped out, I might cease to be. I still hope that some days.

But worst of all, at the same time, being alone is my greatest fear. I give everything of myself, that people might not leave me behind. I compromise everything, to not be abandoned.

Helping others is my only joy. And it’s helped to destroy me.

I gave myself up to someone.

And the girl I had been talking to for 8 months wasn’t who it was. I wanted to spend my life with her. What the hell is wrong with me? I once told her “I don’t think happiness was meant for me.”… Maybe I need to get out of my own way. She’s so amazing, she still talks to me. Most days it makes me hate myself for her. I’ve never cheated on anyone. Not even the crazy B—- who managed to cheat on me 5 times in 5 weeks, who I had dated for six.

And I got in trouble with the Law. Maybe I am the Monster they say I am. Judge me how you want. You can’t hate me more than I do. Believe what you want. I won’t be able to change your mind.

But I got to know the Someone better, and I fell for her. More than looks, more than sex. I love who she is… but everyone in my life sees “the person who got me in trouble”. Or worse, they see the f***ed up girl who DID get abused as a child. Whose mother WAS a user, and mom’s boyfriends WERE drunks (and sick f***s).

But we took time that wasn’t ours, and got to know each other. We confessed that she used me, and I used her. I wanted to feel wanted, feel needed, and she did. She wanted me, and turned me around her little finger to get me. We have honesty now, and proof that one won’t abandon the other. And the Law took the time back.

My life was messed up before, I thought I was getting stuff together, but jail time lacks distractions… Maybe I found God, but I’m still not convinced He likes me, even if I can admit that He loves me. I might believe but I still don’t have faith in Him. Or in me.

Now I’m home. Well, not quite. the town won’t let me be there. But I’m out of jail, with no job, no longterm place to stay, and bills to pay… And everyone in my life hating the one person who makes me feel like I have a place in this world. And I still can’t honestly say I’m over the girl I cheated on.

I’m 25 with nothing to show for my life.

Before I went IN, I was working for a Janitorial Company, and I cleaned an organ donation site. Day after day, I would think about hiding until the overnight shift, and hanging myself from the balcony, with a signed donor’s sheet.  Two days before I was picked up, (and I didn’t even know there was a warrant) I wanted to go out with a SBC. I cleaned up my apartment (which I wasn’t able to pay my grandmother the rent…ever), took out all the trash, scrubbed the place down, grabbed my pellet pistol, and was planning to fly down the streets until the cops pulled me over, then force them to shoot me.

I had always hated myself during middle and high school for being too chicken to do it. And Maybe I always will. I don’t even remember how I pussied out of that last one.

But I had hope on “The Inside”, I had a story I told myself. A Plan… and it’s all gone to shit.

Maybe God will grant me reprieve tonight.   Pray for me.

I want to disappear. Better yet, I want to have never existed.

I don’t want to be pitied. I may not even be understood. I don’t even know how many people will make it this far, but i want to say I’m sorry, to everyone (those who read this, for feeling like I’ve wasted your time, and for those who know me, and will never know this exists, for all my bulls***)… I know that I’m loved. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling so alone, from hurting… ALL THE TIME.

Maybe it’ll get better

Maybe Not