Morning Prayers
Well, i decided it might be helpful for me to share with you all my morning pages from yesterday morning, uncut, as well as this morning. Helpful for someone else, maybe. Helpful for me, I believe so. There are some things in my life which I can’t find the words to speak, or the courage to say, when my mind is all scattered and defensive, but I find that courage in writing. Hopefully, when I publish this into the group, I won’t slip away from everyone in here as I did with my last article, in fear of the feedback I picture myself receiving. Anyway, here goes.
“What another beautiful day it has been. There isn’t really much to report on from the outside. The inside however, is a whole other story. I don’t even know where to begin. Well, I did just end things with _____. She took it hard, I think. She’ll be okay. I was swiping right the entire time I was with her, and last night, I was crazed with it again. So much fun. Now, in the earlyish morning, I am starting to question what it is that I am hiding from myself. Why do I insist on doing this, night after night? What is going on with me that I am becoming so obsessive with all of this?
“I can tell you for certain, most of the girls, if not all of them, I just want to have sex with. I do not want to find out who they are, what they like, what they don’t like. I just play that game for a little while, and then eventually, the conversation ends and I move on to the next few women I have in the hand basket. It’s utterly foolish. A terrible waste of time. Yet, I do it, night after night. My roommate, always trying to make conversation while watching some show or movie, and there I am, glued to this virtual fantasy land of she’s hot, I’d love to have her in my bed.
“I did see my parents growing up, and their not entirely ideal relationship. Not that it was horrible or abusive, just that it seemed to lack that one key element; love. My father has owned his own business since 2008, running it for years before then, too. Growing up, he worked over seventy hours every week, not because he had to, I later found out, but because he wanted to escape the drama at home. My mother, on the other hand, had her hands full at home, being busy with six kids spanning a twelve year difference in age. It was almost as if there was no time for that extra component, that thing called love. Years later, when I began my descent into drug addiction, scrounging around for cash in my mother’s dresser, I stumbled upon her diary. In it, I read that she feels as if her marriage has been a sham this whole time. End of entry. Great stuff for me to read.
“Too, I was also sexually abused. Well, I consider it sexual abuse, some may call it “just kids exploring each other” but that was not at all what it feels like, now. It felt somewhat akin to the way Angelica in “The Rugrats” would explore her sexuality with her cousin Tommy, vindictive, a way to get out her hurt from what she experienced and put it onto someone else. Considering the fact that I blocked most of it out, it went on for a period of two years, and the negative association I now have with both sex, and my cousin, I do believe it to have been something which altered me at such a young age. All that I remember is fingering her, but, according to my twin brother, who apparently was there and did not partake, there was a lot more that happened of which he had a hard time divulging.
“She was most definitely a bossy one, forcing us to play things her way whenever she was around. With a father hardly around, and a mother with too many balls in the air at all times, I followed her lead on this one. According to those that I’ve sought “help” from, they say that I was not feeling the love at home, and that was what made me look for it in other ways. This is what I found.
“So, yes, today I have the toughest of times showing another human being any level of intimacy, regardless of who it is. I do find myself drawn to those who have had similar experiences, people who, like myself, will hold you close, but with a knife to the neck, and call that love. So, when I think of having a happy, healthy relationship, it just doesn’t seem real to me. It is something which, as I wrote that, I quite literally squirmed in my chair. Paradoxically, it is one of the only things I know I want in this life. A nurturing, loving relationship with a beautiful soul where we walk side by side in this game of life together.
“This is where I am at. Hoping for that, but behaving as if it is just not in the deck. There are many ways to stop my behaviors which I have proved to myself to work for me, but the best one I can think of is to seek out ways to help someone going through the exact same thing. When I found others to help with their alcoholism, if only for a little bit of time, mine went away. When I found someone to help with their inability to hold down a job, ironically too, I kept the same one. I pray that the next time I find sense of self worth inextricably tied with my ability to entertain some woman or a brief period of time, that I reach out for help by finding another like me to walk with on this path to healing.
“ With love,
“Charlie”
Edit: My parents are great and have since re-kindled their relationship… I recognized when I was transferring this onto the computer that it sounded like they were destined for doom and I was blaming them for my problems.
