The Things We Forget

I need to tell you something that I have never told anyone before, not even the counsellors. I need to tell it now because I won't have the courage later (and even now saying it seems harder than I had imagined). I need to say it because it worries me, makes me worry about my judgement and the things I used to justify over and over and the things I might continue to justify (although I'd like to think I wouldn't, I would have liked to think I wouldn't have made an excuse for the first time.)

It only happened once.

We were lying in her bed after "it" had happened, and I was laying on her chest. I felt happy because this time she had really kept up her end of the deal and held me after, so that I didn't break. For the first time I had felt truly safe, and at peace, I had thought maybe we could really have what Drayc and I had. The kind of thing I was longing for.
I thought how fully and truly I trusted and could trust her.

and almost immediatly after that thought went through my mind,
I was pinned against the wall.
Her forearm was pressed against my throat, harder and harder. I gasped and choked. I pulled hard at her arm and it wouldn't leave. Eventually it did. I started crying and she couldn't understand why. Even after apologizing she acted as though it were a joke.

And honestly I had always believed that she never meant to hurt me in the ways that she did, that they were all just accidents, all just caused by the best intentions. But this is as candidly as I have talked about it and probably the only time that I will mention it this straightforward. Now I cannot imagine what and idiot I was at that time. Believing that it had only been a joke, though it was one of the times out of many that I was truly afraid of her. A part of me hates myself for being so hopelessly feminized (and another part of me hates myself for believing females make themselves the victims of violence and abuse). Of course at the time I was bound by my word and whatever she had wanted to do she was allowed, but it doesn't change the fact that she shouldn't have wanted to. And yet a part still wonders if she really did want to.

I don't think I could ever feel right referring to her treatment of me as abuse, although a logical part of me, and the counsellors, and the brochures, all say that it was. I like to believe she never meant any of it to hurt me. Because I don't want to think that one human being would hurt another on purpose. I don't want to believe that.

But there you have it, and you know.
This was not as well thought out or carried out or anything as my other posts, and I suspect the next time I do so, things will have gone back to normal.

You Were The Same As Me...

The past might be nice sometimes but

it's a Hell of a place to try and live

I can't stop myself thinking of that world. At this point I'm not necessarily seeing that as a problem but then again, when you want something you won't see it as a problem whether it is or not.

After all these years I haven't changed one bit, it seems. All sorts have things have happened in between and all sorts have thoughts gone through my head, but now...all that might as well have not happened.

The only thing I can see is myself. This is me as a being and this is me on the inside and this is how I view this world and so on and so on...Once again I do not view myself as a part of this world, but only as a visitor here. Only searching for my next way back home. Always the same wish on 11:11. Just to leave here and get it all over with.

I can hardly bring myself to bother with things that supposedly matter in this world, knowing that I don't belong here. That I'll be going home one day. It won't be long before my voice changes, probably. But until then I wonder if there will be any outside signs at all.

And its not that I'm depressed. Like I said, I do not see this as a problem. And I do not feel like I should be unhappy, since that is a waste of time. I do like this world and I do think its beautiful. But it is not mine and it is not my home. So I am still searching for a way back - whether that's the best thing to do or not.

After all these years I haven't changed one bit.

Midnight Coward

I needed to write this down, or I would be going over this post in my head all night, only to forget it after having woken up.

For a while my personal studies were going well, I was diligent and learned quite a lot. I took notes and began to see parallels and make deductions of my own accord. Then, I found an answer to my problems. Or, part of one at least. I found my answer in Hermetic law, which told me what it was that was wrong with me and at least a vague outline of what I should do to fix it. Here I ended my studies, having found the answer. Problem solved? No.

What good is an answer if you do nothing with it? What good is an epiphany if it does not implement anything? Time and time again I find the answers to my problem and just stop with them. Without even trying to do anything in response. It is not enough merely knowing what I must do but it should in fact be done as well.

This is a side note but it is in fact connected to what I am speaking about. I've broken a promise to a man. A promise I've broken time and time again. Which really makes one wonder why I have continued to make it in the first place. I believe by now he's lost all faith in me, as is his right, and I have not seen him in at least months, if not longer. In fact there is no reason for him to come back to me and I'm aware he does not love me and it is unlikely he ever will. He is also in an unofficial relationship with another old friend of mine who I knew before she came under unfortunate circumstances. But, I digress. I believe making and keeping this promise is an integral part of finding my own answers but with no one to answer to it is highly doubtful that should come to be. The saying goes that I keep all promises, except for the ones I always intended to break. Why it is that I could not succeed in this for him I will never know, but it seems now is the time to make the promise for myself, which will prove all the more harder than keeping it for someone else.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I was a fool to have ended my research on the discovery of a small tidbit that rang true to me. I need to find something that works and I need to find it soon. While my general mood is greatly improving, I still lack a zest for life. Well, most of the time. I suppose you could say I am looking for a passion in life which can fill me wholly. There are many things I love and enjoy doing, and yet when I have the spare time, I spend it on things I don't particularly care about and that leave my soul feeling even deader than before. I suppose the new question is now, "What can I do to get myself to participate in the things I love?" and "If these things keep my spirit alive, why can I not motivate myself to do them?"
However, I'm unsure if questions like that can ever really be answered by research. Unless this research is in my own mind. Something I seem adverse to doing at the moment.

In any case, recognizing there is still work to be done is half the battle. I will, at some point, remedy this. Perhaps at long last.