The Truth Or Something Like It

Lately, there have been a lot of hard truths I've been forced to come to grips with. They were not unexpected, and many of them weren't honestly that surprising, after the initial shock wore off. They are the things I've been shying away from in blogging, but then, I believe this thing should be personal, and when I began my first blog, for a tech writing course in college, I took an oath upon myself to never shy away from the grit.

So here I am reminding myself once again to stop avoiding it, and tell it to you. It doesn't matter if no one reads this, and it doesn't matter if no one believes it. This is me doing the one thing I can do and always do best - brutal honesty. 

First off, let me say that I've come to the conclusion that my life could be the plot line of a soap opera, to the point where, if I had a family member in a coma, I would be making bets with my brother on how long it would take them to wake up. Second, my family life is the stuff of ridiculous YA novels. I'm sure I've read something similar on the back of one during my enjoyable employment with my college library. It all sounds eerily familiar.

I come from a family that is nothing at all resembling one. My parents and my brother and I do not function as one. I have tried to deny it, I have tried to tell myself that every family is odd and ours is no exception. And then I meet those of my friends, and I came to realize, just as my slim number of loved ones has, that we were, quite simply, four people sharing a house. It should not have surprised me when, pushed to her absolute limit, my mother finally admitted that she tried to give me away to my grandparents multiple times during my life. It should not surprise me to know my father has been an off and mostly on again alcoholic much of my life.

And the only way I've found so far to come to grips with all of it is to simply focus on the knowledge I've been given.

I can't trust my mother to make proper adult decisions. I can't trust her to ever know whats best for me, as clearly her interest in doing so is slim to nothing. To know whats best for your child, I'm fairly certain that loving them is a necessary factor.

I can't trust my father to be sober, not now, and maybe not ever.

I would not be here today if I had been an only child.

I do not have a single trusting relationship with anyone in my life, save for my brother.

And I'm beginning to wonder if it is something I will ever learn to do again. I can't trust people to make the right decisions, be honest with me, or keep their promises. There is always something I am able to point out in another human being and say "nope, I can't trust you not to do that thing". I have yet to think of one for my brother, but I can't say I never will.

I've stopped trying to trust people not to hurt me, and begun sleeping with a knife so large I can't actually legally carry it out of my house. I'm working to build muscle strength and take challenging martial arts classes so I can stop people from doing so.

More honesty-  I'm not actually depressed about any of this. These are the truths of the life I currently live. A little more truth to end this post on? I am now making a living as a technical writer. This and a five inch switchblade are how I go to sleep every night, and if that makes me a whack-job, so be it, at least I'm a successful one.

Something That Rings True

I've been wrestling with the idea of writing this post for sometime. On one hand, I don't want to spread the negative, and on the other, my blog is personal and should never shy from the gritty, which is a large part of my life. I've never been one to shy away from the grit and the harsh realities. I don't do consoling, I'd rather someone just hear me out when things turn sour. Sometimes I don't want to hear "its going to be okay" because in those moments it rings like a lie. Not everything turns out puppies and rainbows, and sometimes there is no nice way out. 

That's what I had to realize when I called it quits with my boyfriend of over three years. That sometimes you can't fix it, and maybe its best if you just stop trying and let it go. Because I'm tired of white lies and fluffy metaphors. And lately when someone tries to console me it makes me want to scream. I've never been the type to play nice just to save face. I am honest, and blunt, and I pride myself on not dishing out more bullshit. I won't sit here and tell you my life is some kind of fabulous, its not. It could be worse, I know that, and I know there are people out there who care and want the best for me (I'm lookin at you tumblr darlings), but sometimes the weight of it all just hits me flat in the chest, this big hollowing ache. And it's not going to get better, not fast, and not on its own. Its the ache that I will grow in time to work around and live with.

I plan to get a white daylily on my left calf in watercolor style

 
But I've got a few ideas to get me started. I'm going to put my new found funds to use to get me going. I am itching to start taking a martial arts class here in town (maybe kempo? If any of you have a few tidbits about a style you like or practice GIVE THEM TO ME please and thank you), start running, more tattoos will happen soon once I start the new job, and I am going to print some things and re-decorate my walls. Because I know deep down that the only way I am going to get through this and not feel fucking awful about it is on my own. If I lean on one person or another too much I will feel fucking awful about it, its just who I am. I've been leaning on one person for three years, and its time I stopped.

I love this simple beauty. Yes, I am a huge Teen Wolf junkie too.

I'm working now to just get back to me. I'm realizing what I need in people, and lovers, and just life at large. I need the honest to Goddess truth. I need all of you. I need you to show me your darkness and your demons. I need to see them and know I'm not alone. Because no one is going to be happy all the time, and I'm sick of covering up that fact. Its exhausting. Days like today where I'm just so short-tempered that I wonder if its possible to put a punching bag in my apartment just to get it all out. I need someone who is comfortable in showing me all of it. I want the comfort in knowing I am not alone. That I can open myself and show these gritty and awful parts of me and not have my lover cringe or shy away. No white lies about a love that lasts forever. I want your souls confession, no matter how dark or terrifying it is, I just want it to be real.

I don’t need to believe
All the dreams you conceive
You just need to achieve
Something that rings true