Born broken

I’m not sure we’re all born a bit broken, or maybe we’re all born broken in different ways, but I was born a bit broken. It doesn’t hit you until you grow up. It wasn’t my parents’ fault because I had quite the childhood, all the toys, all the games, responsibility, trust, freedom, and understanding. It wasn’t them — it was me. I don’t know. It took me about eighteen years of my life to understand that I don’t feel intense emotions, at first. Bloody hell I feel them, bloody hell I feel them more than many I’ve met, but it takes time for my brain to process information like intense emotion.

 

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It took me twenty-four years to accept myself for who I am, and have been, and who I want to be. It took me two decades to understand that I have been in pain, and in survival mode when there has been little if any reason to be in it. It has taken me eighty percent of my life to accept that it is okay.

I never talked to my parents, or anyone, except someone I met who lived almost two-hundred miles away from me… about me. I never thought of it before then, and I’ll tell you a secret about me — when I was young I don’t know why, but I was sure I wouldn’t be here for long, so sure that I pushed everyone I cared about when I was younger away from me in preparation because I held onto the idea that being a ghost was the better alternative than hurting the people you care about.

I think this idea came from the first person I put my trust in who wasn’t my mother which was my auntie, and I was a pretty shy kid, and a bit weird, I suppose. I wouldn’t talk to anyone else apart from my mother for years, but when I did, and I remember being asked to draw a sheep for my auntie and to give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye. She’d chase me around the room until I refused so much that she would eventually give in.

I remember the night I finally gave in myself and saw how sad she looked when she went to leave, and I kissed her cheek. Little did I know it would be the last time I would ever see her, and that she had a sad face because it was a kiss goodbye. Suicide is a funny thing, and no one knows who struggles with thoughts like that until it’s too late, after all, when you see someone smiling all day, every day, who would know that they aren’t happy?

And you know something, for so many years after that moment, I’d occasionally understand the feeling. The feeling of ‘being trapped’, the feeling of ‘suffocating’, the feeling of being forced to ‘live a certain way’, and quite often I’d sit away from everyone else, and stop smiling. I never told my parents I felt this way. I think I remember shouting it out once, but as childish as I was acting, I don’t think they thought I was serious.

I remember getting bullied, and in return, acting up and acting out. I had anger issues for the majority of my teenage years. I was disinterested in everything that I did, and no one really noticed. Some may have had an inkling and thought I’d just grow out of it, but I don’t think I ever let anyone get close enough to me.

As I grew up, I met someone who helped me see a different way of living, and for a while, that worked, but eventually, I fell back to my neutral self, and I began to feel hate. It wasn’t the bullying that did it, nor a relatively normal childhood. It was me, and it was a hatred for myself. I remember it, looking in the mirror, slouching after playing video games for sixteen hours straight, of thirty-six hours straight, not that it mattered, but I felt disgusted, but I couldn’t stop. The reason for that was because I would have to face myself if I stopped, and for the longest of time, I couldn’t.

My friend, the one that I talked to, helped me reach out, and I met someone who I connected with and that’s when I met my daughter’s mother. I think I met her at a point where I would believe what someone would tell me, no matter how ridiculous, more than my own thoughts, or feelings, or even if I knew the fact was different. The relationship gradually degenerated into something negative, and though I share my part to blame, it affected me more than I realised.

The idea of someone I ‘loved’ if, even to this day I understand the word when it refers to a romantic partner, but when meeting someone who broke me down more, and attacked me when I tried to walk away, on repeat, for about eight or so months, and I still, to this day, say, “It’s okay, we had our good bits.” It isn’t and it wasn’t okay. Her parents never saw it, neither did mine, for a while. They didn’t know she cheated on me half a dozen times, or would throw a punch at me for coming home half an hour later than she expected. It was my first proper relationship, so was this what a relationship was like?

No, it wasn’t. Eventually it came to a point where she brought that hatred and anger out of me and I felt like I wanted to hit her back and that was the point where I broke up with her, and it broke me because for the longest of time I had a chip on my shoulder which made me feel like I should never give up on someone, or walk away, because what would I do if I did that and then the next day, suddenly, they weren’t around anymore?

By the end of that relationship, when I finally made a choice between the man who I was scared of being, someone who you see in the news ‘Another man who hit his fiancee’, I finally made a choice of walking away, and in doing so, it was the first time I looked at myself in the mirror with mixed feelings, and unsure of myself, I tried to do more for me. Sure, it hurt when I found out she had cheated and when I was told it didn’t matter if I was my daughter’s father or not, it’s up to her mother whether I see her or not, and even, the legitimacy of her being mine was questioned, yet tests were rejected, I was lost for a while… and I drank, and meditated, and drank…

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I remember my brother and I got into a fight and I was beside myself — I didn’t remember fighting back, but I did, and for the first time stopped myself from getting shoved and pushed in the corner, but it felt wrong. This bottled up anger I gained from so many years of not fighting back, or standing up for myself, or just simply saying “No more!” had led me to a point where I felt split into two.

Once again, I stood at a point where I had a choice of the type of person I wanted to be, and I chose better. I worked on my anger, and I remember trying out so much meditation I looked at the individual reasons why I was so wound up and angry, and I let them go. I let them fucking go. Twenty damn years of being quiet, holding my tongue, thinking it wasn’t okay, and putting all these tokens into a box as if one day I would enact my revenge, and I just put the box down and let it go. All that fucking pain. I remember looking up and directing my questions at God as to why the fuck all that had to happen for me to learn how to let go, but I guess we are broken to be fixed.

So, I started breaking the habits. I got back into contact, and forgave people, and apologised to people who I felt I had unfinished business with… and though many of them seemed to think I had some ulterior motive, I didn’t, and time moved on. Suddenly, a few months down the line I had a call from social services, asking me to come in to see them.

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I got my life back on track… no, on track, and with a huge amount of help from my parents, my family, and those who stayed, I began taking steps forward, applied to uni, was a support worker, and every so often, I was greeted by a small smile in the mirror. When my daughter was a few months old I was asked what I wanted because so much had happened to her and her mother that she ended up in care. I wasn’t allowed to be in contact, so I wasn’t informed, but suddenly, I ended up with a six-month-old baby, seven days a week, and though I lived with my parents I tried to do it all on my own.

It was difficult, and it was hard, but it was the first person I met who helped me understand what love was and not the romantic kind, but an unconditional love, and though I felt more like I had a pet, than a mini person to look after, considering, anyone who has ever had a child, knows they pretty much poop, cry, eat, poop, and sleep, oh– and poop. Before I knew it we had our first house together, and I won custody in court.

So, it all goes fine, and though we had some hiccups, where I was attacked twice, and have dealt with some difficult financial times, managing University with a child, it took me twenty to twenty-two years to smile at myself in the mirror, and though I have a slip up here, and there, and get down, we spend the majority of our days smiling.

The sad thing for me is that I think I needed someone to rely on me, in order to give me purpose, and that my default feeling is a negative one, so it has taken a lot for me to get into a place where the only path I see forward, is one leading upward…

And here I am. I didn’t have the freedom of being able to go out at night, and I didn’t have the freedom of avoiding life whenever I pleased, and I no longer allowed myself to slope into depression, or slip into a dark place. I no longer let myself because it wasn’t only me who I had to look after. So, it’s safe to say that my daughter has helped me as much as I have helped her, if not more so. Now, I’m coming up to my third year at University, and it is hard. Sometimes, I sit here and think about stopping, but then I look her in the eyes and remember that I’m not only doing this for me but for her as well.

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Separately to my daughter’s needs, I’ve changed mine this year, over other years, and it’s taken me a long fucking time to wake up. In my first year, and second perhaps, I sometimes felt envious of people who could complain about everything and never lift a finger, or people who had it so easy but had a problem, or complained about him and her… etc etc…

It got me in a habit of doing it as well since sometimes, I reflect the energy of those I’m around…

This year… I’ve been distant, and cold with mostly everyone, because of this year, this month, this week, this hour, I realised something… I’m not in competition with them, I’m not in competition with my brother anymore, or my childhood friends, I’m not in competition with anyone in my year, or in uni and I’m not in competition with my best friend.

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The only person I’ve ever been in competition with, is myself, and though I am my own worst enemy, and I have been lucky enough to see both sides of my own coin, I also know that I plan, expect, and try hard to be better than I have been, and better than the person I was before I had a child, but it doesn’t stop there… my aim is to be better than who I was yesterday, and I always see room to improve, but I always see improvement.

So, if you started reading this post thinking it would be another sad story, think again because it’s not, it isn’t, and never will be. I never thought I was strong, and I hope that one day I will see strength in me, but I know, after all this, I’m not weak. So sometimes, I ignore everyone, and sometimes, the only social ability I have in my day is reserved for my daughter, but that doesn’t mean I’m sad, it means that I’m doing more than I’m speaking, and lately, I’m fed up of speaking.

I’ve shared my aims with you in my previous posts, of my weight loss, my writing, and I’ll get them done… so it’s time to remind myself of my own advice, and get on with it, because I am slowly finding pieces of myself to put back together, and I won’t pretend I’ve done it on my own, so if you find yourself reading this, and you’re still in my life, just know that I do care, and I appreciate you, and that even if you’ve never had the opportunity to hold your hand out for me, my hand will always be holding out for you, because I’ve been where you’re standing, and you’re not alone.

My name is Daniel, and this is a summary of my story up to now. It’s time to let go of who I once was, and allow me, who I am now, to be.

That person, this person, me, is someone who will keep walking forward, and never back.

“Less talking, more doing.”

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“And those who are no longer with us, be it by choice, or otherwise… you are never forgotten.”

 

“As for those who think everything is easy for me, I hope you understand a little bit about me now, because nothing is, for me, as it was.”

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Axing a question

Sometimes there are things in life that are a lot more difficult than they should be. Sometimes it’s an exercise where we feel that we should be able to do it, but we can’t, and other times it’s something more delicate like dating or getting to know someone.

I’d like to think that perhaps it’s just my experience of dating and a poor judge of character that’s to blame but honestly, I’m not sure where to begin. So, alas, I’m back in my rightful place– a place where I no longer wish to have a relationship and am no longer looking for someone. In fact, if something happens over the summer then so be it, but it will stay in the summer.

The last person I started to get close to have made it so difficult to ask questions that it has put me off trying to date for a while… simply because I’m either faced with a defensive attitude, extra comments, or a demanding nature, and I don’t have time for either, and I’m a bit of a prick, myself, so two negatives, in this case, don’t make a plus. In fact, I have found more anxiety, and mood swings in the last 3-4 weeks of getting to know someone than I have in the two years at University, and therefore, brought it to a close. Who really has time for it?

So, that chapter of my life may be closed but I’m sure it’ll open many more chapters in life. When you want a future entirely different to another, your personalities clash, and you are confronted by an image of confrontation, and bargaining whenever you’ve had, when in actual fact, you’ve been close to the door handle for two out of three weeks. Maybe I’m too picky or that I need to keep my mouth closed, or maybe I’m the problem, but whatever it is… I’ll handle it.

Something else recently happened, I talked to someone who just wanted to be friends and I wanted to be friends with her, but the issue for me was that when we were snapping pics back and for and hanging out, I had the same feeling I did with the last time I made a very close friend, and we all know what happened there last summer and I don’t plan on having the heartache, or the head ache. I nibbed it in the butt before it began. I know some of you may think, “What are you thinking, stopping something before it’s even begun when you’re just assuming, or speculating.” I’m thinking that I wouldn’t be able to handle another headfuck in my final year of university so I opt out. Besides, if they matter so much, they’ll boomerang back into my path eventually. Or I’ll boomerang into theirs. Sadly, it seems escaping problematic situations isn’t my strong suit.

Finally, I have a picture for you!

So, what’s the amazing thing about this sentence?

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Happy days.

 

 

Upwards and onwards friends, it can only get better, right!?

A sour taste

There comes the point in your life when you feel isolated. Isolation is okay, and I need to tell myself that because otherwise, my isolation would be a nightmare. I don’t just mean the fact that I am alone, but isolation in the worst way; isolation when you’re not alone. I think times like these are the worst because even when you know, there are hands around you to catch you fall. You seem unable to reach them, and whether that’s because you feel like you’re slipping through their grip, or they are simply out of reach as you fall beside them is certainly another question.

It is certainly times like these where I feel alone. When the house is quiet, and though my daughter is here she is fast asleep and dreaming of better places, and distant worlds while I am here. I am grinding my teeth. I am stressed out and avoiding the housework like any ‘house husband’ should, and though I lack the wife to be a house husband, it doesn’t stop me from referring to my abundantly clear lack of motivation in housework. I’m sure my mother would be ashamed of me, though, this state is only temporary, and I’m well aware it is so.

A simple moment of solace at the end of the day is enough to make you question the world, and ask stupid questions like ‘Why, how, when, where, what?’ But this time I find myself sitting here just staring at the wall. I’m a little run down from the stress which involves others, but also, myself, because on days like this I feel like I’m slipping, even if it’s just my footing, I am slipping.

I know that slip is temporary, that a fall like this is for but a single moment, but still, I savour it like savouring the taste of fine food. Tomorrow, after feeling sorry for myself, I’ll stand strong and with the motivation to do the things that I need to do. For tomorrow is my dissertation work, for tomorrow is a gym day, and tomorrow is judo. I haven’t been to judo for a while, and I need to go back. I’m a little annoyed at myself.

I’m not scared of death, but I am scared of dying in life.

– Daniel Thomas Whittington

What’s the deal, Dan?

So, yeah, I look back at the last couple of years and it annoys me a little when I see my conscious, and unconscious minds work against one another. I’ve distanced myself from people I’ve liked, cared for and wanted to get close to, and then other times I’ve clung to the people that show me little to no interest? It’s ridiculous.

So, I’ve started to think that after being in a position where it has just been my daughter and me for the last 4 years, other than very short forms of dating, or relationships, I’m a little scared of intimacy. I mean, my understanding of intimacy or experience of intimacy is a little twisted due to being in an abusive relationship for about two years. When someone throws a bucket load of mental abuse your way, or physical abuse and can still tell you they love you every day/night it does shape the way you see things like that.

But, what I’ve found is that I think I’m my own enemy in this, so when I do meet someone who’s sassy, or full of banter, and enjoys throwing a meaningless insult around now and then, it somehow affects me, even when I’m consciously sure it wouldn’t. That’s pretty sad though, isn’t it?

So, I’ve tried mindlessly dating and figured out it’s not for me, meeting people with a half-assed attitude towards something that might or might not be, and it takes one or two of the wrong sentences (not spelling, but rather opinion) to put me off a person entirely.

The sad thing is that I’ve met some really nice people over the last few months, but sometimes I feel like I keep meeting people at the wrong time. Or, simply, it’s just the universe’s way of telling me to walk away. Sometimes, I think life would be a lot easier if I just stopped trying to control my life and let be what it is. But, then, my friend wouldn’t be able to call me a fool then, would she?

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Also, I can’t buy myself a tarot card deck, it has to be gifted, so if anyone’s interested in helping me with that feel free. Ha.

So, after all this time, and I could meet some incredible people, and I have met an incredible person, sometimes, the things I worry about take time to reveal themselves, and those things are worries that aren’t even at this time yet. Situations like, I’ve decided that I want to move abroad for quite some time, and the people I do seem to really get along with or get close to all seem to want to stay where they are, end of story.

I wouldn’t mind staying here, it wouldn’t be my first choice so that person would have to be pretty damn special for that to happen.

The other thing that I find difficult is the idea of getting close to someone again, and I’m really not sure whether I purposely go out of my way to find someone who has the ability to both build me up and shatter me in a few simple words, or whether love is a perpetually walking blind man. That, or I could secretly be a masochist.

This is isn’t a rant, for once, and actually, my life has been going okay, I should be working on improving my mental capabilities much more than I have been, but on the bright side, I’ve lost 13KG so far, and I’m starting to feel better about myself, yesterday was the first time I led on beach with my shirt off in my adult life. Can you believe it? I didn’t feel like I people were laughing at me or anything, which is a massive thing for me because I’ve always felt like I was too fat to do certain things, especially when it came to my body.

In fact, I did a 60 minute run for the first time and it felt great. I felt like I accomplished something really important, and in all honestly, I’m proud of myself for doing it, and now I’m doing them three times a week.

But, enough about the rest, right now, this is about relationships and love.

I’d love for someone to prove me wrong and allow me to understand the positivity and welcoming emotions that love is supposed to bring, and I hope that one day I get to a point where I do feel that way, but at the moment, I feel like I’m asking for something that may not quite exist for me. Simply put, I don’t want to walk on eggshells around someone, and I’ve got into so many arguments over people not understanding whether I’m joking, or being serious, but rather than just asking, things get so heated.

 

Actually, I get a huge blast of anxiety when someone assumes things about me because it’s one of my biggest issues. I seem to come across as serious, and overwhelmingly ambitious, and complicated, and all that jazz, but in reality, I’m probably as simple as a puppy, I just want a little bit of attention and a little bit of love. I know, I referred to myself as a puppy, I’m aware.

Complicated situations, arguments, passive aggressiveness, and aggression are just huge no-no’s when you realise that you can live your life asking “Why me?” or you can live your life asking, “Why not me?” and I want to be part of the latter. I want to live my life asking the question why not me, why can’t I do these things, because I can, and will, not I can’t and give the excuses that I’m not good enough, or better yet, give no excuse at all.

I just want to add that I don’t look for someone who resembles the latter, I look for something so much weirder than that, that spark you find in someone’s eye, and in the conversations that you have. That connection to someone trumps over looks/behaviour any day and I think, though I’m very emotionally aware, I’m also very aware that some people aren’t as emotionally developed, and never thought to ask questions about why they feel a certain way about something, and I think everything is a learning experience.

I just want to fill my life with more of them.

“You can’t beat death, but you can beat death in life”

– Charles Bukowski

 

P.S I could be feeling all of this, or I could be exhausted, tired, and hangry. I’m not quite sure.

The Book of Dan

I keep getting jokes thrown my way due to the overwhelming complexity of my irritating mind. I mean, I think–I think–I think–I think and I think. Sometimes, the conclusions are pretty simple, and sometimes, a penny, and a paperclip equal human evolution. Makes sense, simple, right?

So, from talking about ghosts, historical figures, political distress, over complicated explanations for very simple things, I’ve decided to work my way into the idea of the book of Dan, this is secretly a real thing that all Daniels share; we’re awesome like that. In it to win it, as they say.

–Oh, who am I kidding, no one says that.

Anyway, to bring forth a new concept and idea to this blog, I’ll introduce the way that I think.

I use keywords to determine a pattern that triggers memories, that bounce back, and interlock with those keywords, reverting back to the question. Sometimes, it works, and others not so much.

This train of thought…

Question/keyword -> Memory -> Person -> keyword -> Memory -> Answer.

It’s like a boomerang of thoughts or a patchwork of expression. Awww, shucks, look at me, using my language teaching mumbo jumbo to define my inner elaboration. Excellent.

I’ve got a nasty habit of thinking about the past, I almost wrote pasty then, but I wouldn’t mind a pasty right now, but, that’s not the point. I’ve got a nasty habit of thinking about people from the past, events, regrets, and have trouble reminiscing old thoughts.

When, in fact, I never miss the person, and I think I simply miss those memories.

Since January I’ve been really good at just living in the now and not thinking of the past or the future. This has helped me improve this rather serious looking smile I sometimes plaster on my face and help me appropriate an intelligible idea of happiness. Honestly, I do get happy moments, please believe me! Ha.

Needless to say I think it’s time to put to rest the ghosts of my past, and finally super charge my tired mind into a stream of usefulness, integrity, and thoughtfulness, and all that other good, cushiony stuff that makes things better. You know the stuff.

So, the book of Dan, that was what we were talking about, right?


Rule 1: We don’t talk about the book of Da–

I mean, rule 1: Daniel is not one thing.

People have tried to define me as many things, and they’ve all been wrong. I’ve sought to describe myself and been wrong as well.

The closest anyone has ever gotten, was when I was called a fool by a woman eight or so years ago. The reason why I don’t see that in a negative light is that a fool is someone who is at the beginning of their journey. Able to walk in any direction, and not be bound to a single choice, journey, or have anything about themselves or their life/lives set in stone.

If I am anything, I am unpredictable and predictable. Maybe I’m predictably unpredictable. Jeez, mind-boggling, right? Not really. What’s wrong with you?

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I hope you enjoy my fat emblem.

Brilliant.

Anyway, I want to keep going positive, and have so much going on over summer, in the coming months, and even right now, so I’ll catch you later. *winky face*

I’m joking. Get over yourself. Not everything is about you, that’s why there’s a book of Dan… Jesus.

Breaking self-made shackles

What decides a path that someone follows?

Is it the journey, their path, or is it their pain?

It could be all of them and it could be none.

Are our lives predetermined, or is everything impulsive, and wild like a forest fire?

I write this as I creep closer to my quarter-life-crisis. It won’t be long before I’ve been here for 25 years and sometimes I feel like the world is at my fingertips yet other times I get an overwhelming desire to walk away from the world and its fire.

I think the biggest journey for me, for this lifetime, was having a child. I made the mistake of having a child with someone who wasn’t sure of what she wanted and not even a second thought to the things you have to do, as opposed to the things you want to do. You see, with me the things that I have to do are easy. The things I want to do are harder. Sometimes they involved pushing people away so I can concentrate, or even giving myself enough space to push through the bristles of the brush that is life. You know, the one you try to squeeze through the gaps of when it tries to brush you away with each stroke.

I’ve spent so many years, already, being serious. Too long I’ve spent not smiling, and too long I’ve spent giving in to the negativity of this, that, or the other. Well, I’ve confronted metaphoric wolves, metaphoric foxes, metaphoric spiders, and metaphoric everything else. I mean–I don’t mean real wolves–of course. What I do mean though is that sometimes I can relate people to having anthropomorphic characteristics. Usually, you can tell who’s fierce and who is brave. You can tell who rushes into things head first and even the ones who save.

But, after spending over 2 years– trust me, it’s a long time for someone like me. Who talks and talks and talks, and thinks and thinks and thinks– They leave an imprint on you, like dirt on a blindingly white shirt. It marks you and takes a while for it to come off. When I finished that relationship I felt like I was wearing a white shirt that had more stains than white patches. But, you know what? Over the last couple of months, something strange had happened… something marvellous.

Sure, I’ve met new people and I’ve been to new places. I’ve started new things like YouTubing, and reading out my work. It makes me nervous but I like it… and it has helped. A lot, in fact. I think–no, I know I’m wearing a clean white shirt again and it’s time to put away the part of my life which I’d tried to hold onto for my daughter’s sake. Coming to the realisation that we’re better off without some people in our life has been the hardest decision for me to make but this is where I am now and I’m ready to move on with things.

So, sitting here today, in the library, and writing this– I’m in my second year — I’m loving it. I moan, and begrudge it at times but entirely… I don’t think I’ve smiled for this many consecutive days before and there’s no reason not to. Literally.

I don’t know what it is…

It could be the fact that I feel like I’m getting somewhere…

It could be because my daughter tells me she loves me twelve times a day…

It could be because I’m finally doing things I want to do…

It could be because I’m actually allowing myself to be happy…

I had a conversation with my friend yesterday, and we talked about how I’m not trying to control myself in every conversation… just… FUCK IT. Fuck trying to put a mask on or trying so hard to fit in, or even FUCK trying to ‘get serious’ and just have fun.

If you can’t have fun it isn’t worth doing.

Remember: The only person who can change your view is yourself, and that’s up to you.

 

Balanced? I think not.

So, sometimes I feel as warm as the sun, and other times, I’m as cool as a cucumber (excuse the pun), as cold as ice… (We’re never going to get anywhere like this)… at sub-zero… I’ll show myself out… Here’s a door:

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I mean, just look at today…

It’s warm outside, warm in my soul… I mean, steering back to reality: It’s been a fun day; I took my daughter out to Cardiff bay, along with my buddy Conor.

Hey, look it’s Conor!

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Well, no it’s not Conor.

Maybe slightly less hair.

Anyway, moving on; see what I mean? I told you we’ll not get anywhere tonight.

So, I want to seriously start by stating that I lost a friend today. After arranging for her to visit in September, I realised that she was using me for a bit of a back-up plan with a few friends that she felt awkward around at the time, and I could see her changing her mind about a lot of things, and messing me around. The worst thing was that she pretended to like me more than a friend, so I’d say yes to her coming, which is ridiculous, I mean if she just said she wanted to be friends I would have been more than happy to let her stay. I’m just that type of person. Cool-beans, right? (tragic)

Anyway, with that out of the way, I burned that bridge real good, ended that friendship because that’s a big no-no to me, and if I didn’t end it there I would be goose-stepping into another despicably annoying situation (Heh, walking like a goose, can you imagine?)

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Here’s a picture of a goose, just in case you can’t. (Heh, this one looks like he’s having a giggle, or holding someone up for bread)

Anyway, with that out of the way, my stress was halved, and I had a brilliant day, filled with sunshines and rainbows… I mean look at this:

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I told you, see the rainbow, taste the rainbow. (Okay, seriously now, I will stop)

Anyway, in conclusion to my day, it’s been a pretty interesting one, and Conor is visiting me for a while, and it’s been pretty nice having someone around to talk to in the evenings as I’ve been alone most of the summer… in the evening anyway. So… it’s still a little adjustment though, being around someone else in this house is strange. It’s alien, aside from having my daughter here of course, and we all have to get used to the way things work. That’s life though.

Anyway, aside from a moody hour or two this evening, today has been a great day and I’m looking forward to doing many more things over the next year which includes going canoeing again, stepping onto the clubbing scene (How you doin’?)

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Okay, I lied about stopping the puns. That one was a classic though, can you blame me?

Anyway, I’ve had enough days where I can call different shades of shit and it is definitely time to change the way I see my days now, and move on.

I had a conversation with an ex of mine over trying again, and I couldn’t take a single step down that road; she messaged me, and all I could think about was how awkward it was reading the words she wrote. I knew she hadn’t ‘changed’ I mean, a leopard and it’s spots and all that jazz.

Here’s a leopard:

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Look! This one has a happy hat.

Anyway, back on point; it’s easy to say yes to something that won’t work, because you may miss someone, or even have some form of inclin of memory, but it takes a better person to say no to something that you do not feel 100% about, regardless of how it affects them, or yourself, knowing it will only make things worse. If you have to ruin yourself to help another, you’re doing it wrong, and I certainly do value my sanity recently.

Furthermore? Yes, there’s more, always is.

I want to work on myself, I know I’ve been belching the same theme for the last three months, but it’s imperative that we all work on ourselves, and after a decent chat with a friend through fb this evening, I understand that this is something I definitely want to do, seeking happiness for yourself, is a must. For, you do not want to enter a relationship, depending on the other person for happiness, it’s not what it is about. Even if it takes 20 years for me to find that place in my life, I don’t care. If someone comes along and adds to my life, not take away, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be compromising my own happiness, anymore. Fuck the ghosts of my past, they are ghosts for a reason, and now… on that note… they can perish like the mother fuckers they are.

Hasta la vista, mujeres.

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So, those of the people in my life who walk with me on this journey of mine for the better, are more than welcome. I will always be there for those who treat me with respect. I know a certain person will read this, and feel a bit worried, if she isn’t covering her face with a very hard slapping hand right now… but, here’s a message to the people in my life who really are trying to add to it, I don’t know where I’d be without you all:

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One day I will find the ying to my yang, but until then, I’ll stride on the waves of life.

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I’ll see you around, cowboys/cowgirls.

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State of my year

This year has been an interesting one. In fact, so interesting, that I feel like I’ve fallen off the rails three times already. I mean, Jesus, some of the situations I’ve faced this year have been absolutely bonkers. BONKERS I TELL YOU! Did that feel like I shouted at you? Good,  we’ll need that for later.

So, January was an interesting month to come back to. I had Christmas at my parents house in December, and after going back to University, I found that the girl I spent most of my time with, before Christmas, just disappeared from existence, even though I saw her in class, sometimes, anyway. I mean, at one point, I felt like shouting, “COME ON, WHAT HAVE I DONE!?” and when we did talk, it was very awkward, we avoided eye contact, though she still got jealous with my ridiculously harmless flirting with others when she was around. It was a conundrum indeed. Actually, I don’t think she knows how much that messed with my head, because before Christmas, we were spending 1/2, or 1/3 days together, and when I say that, I mean, the whole day. After we returned to University in January, it went down to a 20 minute coffee every 3 weeks. But, I suppose, that’s what happens when you tell someone how you feel.

In January, I also got myself into a difficult situation where I was trying to be there for a friend, but I ended up getting blamed for a problem that wasn’t my fault. It was just a shitty situation that had gone on too long, due to whatever reason, or most likely, people interfering. It taught me a lot about what to help people with, and what not to help people with. Relationships? THEY ARE A BIG NO-NO. See? Shouting that out, doesn’t that make you feel better?

So, anyway, in February, I got so upset, and distant, that I disappeared, and my cry for help was when I drank a copious amount of liquor, and drunk messaged everyone. I mean, I acted happy, but not a single one of the people who told me they knew me, and knew me well, noticed. Aside from a girl who was a very new friend at the time. I talked about this moment a dozen times, but I will always remember this moment as the time where I found someone I wanted to hold onto.

She came to my house one evening, and told me she read my posts, which were pretty dark at the time, and she demanded some answers, and started to cry over the idea that I couldn’t talk to anyone, and not her about my problems, even though she spilled her problems onto the table the second day we met. It was cute, and memorable. I’m pretty sure I fell for her quickly, though I told myself I wouldn’t, or tried to hide it well, anyway. But, we just had way too much fun, and what not.

In March, she was the only person to buy me a gift for my birthday, aside from having a card from my parents. Sure, I don’t expect anything from anyone. But even the people I bought presents for earlier in the year, or even a month or two before, didn’t even see me for my birthday, so I felt pretty alone. Though the girl couldn’t come over for my birthday, she bought me a lion teddy, to remind me of her because she dressed up in a lion-onesie one day, and knew I found it funny.

In the earlier months of the year I found it difficult to enjoy my time at University. I found the classes either boring, and very fruitless, or I found that they were telling us we should understand this, but it was something they hadn’t even mentioned, or not directed us to where to find the information. Then again, I was put off some of the reading because of the same reasons. It was very encumbering, and I fell into a rut.

My friend kept coming around, and trying to make me feel better, bless her. Actually, most of the beginning months of the year, the good parts, are based around her. It’s sad, in a way, but pleasant in another. I remember dancing with her in my kitchen, and spinning her around. I remember her yelling at me, or knowing what I wanted before I knew. It’s incredible when you get close enough to someone that you understand each other in a way that requires no communication.

Anyway, in April, I started coming back into social circles, and putting my face out there, again. It wasn’t much, but it was a start, though it put me off again, when everyone practically ignored me every time I spoke, and so I gave up on the group we had on Facebook. what is the point in having a group if everyone ignores you, right?

So, I started focusing on me. I managed to pull myself out of my rut, I had a girlfriend, (not the friend) but it didn’t go well, for two reasons. I may have been in love with someone else (Pretty big one, I know.) and two, she bored the hell out of me. I couldn’t talk to her, and all she wanted to do was watch television. AGAIN, BIG NO NO! Ha-ha, I bet you still read that as me shouting at you. In fact, I found more affection from the girl who had become a close friend, than I did my partner at the time. It meant that I had to break up with my partner, which I did. So, that was a very short 4 week relationship. But hey, at least I was being honest with myself.

Moving on, I told my best friend the truth, and how I felt. And she told me she couldn’t, because of several reasons, one being her leaving soon, and another one I won’t talk about online. But, alas, we still got closer, and perhaps it was a natural thing, once feelings are aired. So, in June, I ‘made’ (she came by choice, but didn’t like to tell me) her come to a BBQ/party we had. And that’s when it hit off between us. My fault, I thought I’d be nice, to take her upstairs, and I planned to sleep downstairs with the guys, because there were two other guys in the house, and she grabbed my hand before we left. I won’t go into anymore detail about that, but lets just say, it took about 4 weeks after she left the country (went back home after her year stay here), to get over it. For me, anyway.

What I found was that she didn’t care about what happened, and she did it for me. It hurt me, like a knife to my heart. Really. But, I survived it, and though it tarnished my motivational triumph of finally getting my ass to the gym, I found myself living my day around her talking to me for a while too. I had to get some space from her, so I did just that. Now, we talk very little, just now and then. I had an argument with her on the weekend, which allowed me to see her just as a friend, and though we are okay as friends, we are just that, and we won’t ever be more than that. I’m completely okay with that though. The way things went, it wouldn’t be a good relationship if we did try. As it wasn’t very virtuous to begin with.

That being said, I’m sure she’s trying her best to be my friend. We are getting along, but that’s that.

So here I am, I had been to the gym for nine weeks, and lost 5KG, that’s all. I have much more muscle now, and feel better in myself. The plan is to jog three times a week, and I’ve come to a point where I feel comfortable enough in myself to believe, trust, and honour myself. The only people I have to worry about, presently, are myself, and my daughter.

That being said, I’ve found myself getting closer to an ex partner of mine, who I dated in 2013, and we’ve been good friends since. My Swedish Lady friend. She’s coming to visit me in September, and who knows, maybe things will improve drastically over the next few months, and though we are not expecting anything to happen, it will be a lovely surprised to see her again. It has definitely been too long.

So, over-all, I have much to do this summer, including actually reading the books I promised myself I would read, improve my grammar, and lexis and phonology, and become a better me. I already feel that happening. If anyone tries to interrupt that, or halt my path, I will move around you, jump over you, or just walk through you, and change you from someone who is in my life, to someone who is now a ghost of my past.

To end this post, I would like to state that I met many people on a short two week course I had in July, where I met many people I would love to meet again. Perhaps, I’ll have a holiday in Spain next year, and we could all meet up for a meal again. I’ve never been with so many people that we had a meal between 24-30 of us, but it was amazing, and an experience I will definitely not forget.

So, this has been my catch-up year. I’ve gained friends, I’ve lost friends, I lost myself, and found myself, I’ve been scraping the bottom of my motivation, and now I’m on fire, so to speak. NO DIRTY JOKES, COME NOW. Ha, I bet you read that shouting, again. It never gets old. But, over-all, I’ve come to rely on myself, and that, has been a more important lesson to me, than anything else I have experienced this year. It means that when my second year starts, I will be in a position to manage everything that comes my way, good, or bad.

So, bring it on.

Cowardice

Response to The Daily Post‘s cowardice.

Cowardice:

I had never thought about how I harboured cowardice. I thought myself strong, tough, sensitive, but never cowardly.

Cowardice, is not being able to make a choice. Cowardice, is being afraid to take a step. Cowardice, has been me.

I’ve always wanted to change, but never took the steps necessary to do so. By that, even with my weight training, or losing the weight I have, I always let myself get distracted. Back in May, and June, I was a headstrong person, who started believing in himself. I had such promise, and conviction in myself. I mean, fuck, I didn’t need anybody. What a facade that was.

When a woman I was getting far too close to, reciprocated feelings for me, which at that moment in time, felt absolutely perfect, which, I would love to lie, and pretend they didn’t, and I would love to tell you some bullshit story about how I am strong enough not to let something so simple as a couple of intimate moments with a woman to get me down so much, but I’d be lying. And lying, is something I am very good at, but also hate, with a passion.

Now, I’m discussing cowardice because it is a word that has resembled the way I have been with those around me. I should strong-arm through my day, like I would have done, once upon a time, but I didn’t, I haven’t, I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t.

All the ifs, and buts have nothing on me. I’ve been living in a liminal stage of life for a very long time. I’ve held onto people that I should have let go of perhaps a life-time, or two ago.

Cowardice something that we shall never be able to run from.

Cowardice something that will hunt us, the further we walk from it.

Cowardice That trapped feeling, breathless, inescapable.

You know, sometimes, I feel trapped with my circumstances, with my life, but I will forever be the person who is trapped by choice. I know it’s bad to say, or sad to say, and don’t get me wrong, I love my little family, of us two, but sometimes, I can’t help but feel exhausted.

That being because I made that choice, I never had a chance to let go of the ghosts in my past, and I’m never truly alone with my thoughts long enough to mourn them, and then let go of them, so they follow me, almost haunting me. I say, almost.

Back to the woman, the point is that instead of being strong enough to let it go, walk away, and forget about feelings that will have me enthralled, I end up dooming myself by pushing myself into such a path that beckons me to suffer. I don’t take the time I need away from that person, those people. I end up swaying, like a ship in the water, on the edge of a pressure plate, deciding whether to float to the left, or to the right. And, that’s simply how it is. I’m not mad with her, in fact, she’s been rather awesome about it all. Been really pleasant, and kind to me.

It’s more so, my cowardice that I’m scared of burning a bridge. I’ve thought I was getting pretty good at burning bridges, turns out I always leave something closing the space between two islands. Even if it is but the size of a string.

And, this is the adverse effect of being a fool, a foolish bloody fool who puts themselves out there for everyone to hold onto, but I refuse to put my hand out to someone, for myself, permanently, because I’ve never had someone stay, and I’ve never had someone choose me. This isn’t a hit to anyone, just simply the truth.

It’s my cowardice that stops me from being able to let go of the people who easily let go of me. It’s for that, that I end up trapped in the past, in the memories, in people like you. But, that gets lost, combined with this feeling I’ve felt since I was a young pup.

Thanks to a friend today, I have a word for it:

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Yearning for something that may not have even existed. Mourning over another life maybe? Who the fuck knows. But, what that means, is that I’ve not let go of whatever it is, and if I never find it? I never find that other half of me that completes my soul, I don’t think I’d last very long. Like a lonely budgie in a cage on its own.

So, what is my cowardice?

  • Not being able to tell people what I truly think.
  • Not being able to tell the people I care about, how I feel, for fear of losing them, like it happens on repeat.
  • For being careless, and not being attentive, just in case I get too close to someone
  • For wanting love, but also fearing love.
  • For not being able to let go of certain things in my life
  • For looking for something I’ll never have.
  • Not being happy with myself, and seeking others to fill the gap.
  • For trying, and trying, failing, and failing, and wondering why I should even get back up again…
  • For not stepping a foot out of this country
  • For being too scared to push myself in a direction, for my footsteps will become stone
  • For being too weak, to believe in myself
  • For not walking forward.
  • I noticed it more lately, when I get heart palpitations when you ask me what’s wrong, and I’m not able to say, but more so, I just don’t want to be vulnerable again.
  • It’s cowardice I am scared to become vulnerable, and in being scared of being vulnerable, of being open, I am vulnerable. Ironic, eh?
  • Not being able to stick to my own rules.
  • Being too scared to try my best, and put everything.
  • It’s the idea that when someone promises you they will be there for you, you can’t believe them, because you’re afraid of letting someone too close.
  • For that, I don’t think there will ever be someone out there who truly understands me, who gets me, though, I think the only person I’d want that person to be is someone I get married to.

That is my cowardice, and I hope that one day it changes. Without a doubt, I will try my best to change it… So, I’ve let cowardice take over lately, one bump in the road after a while, and I hate it. So, I’m going to change it, and stop letting myself get pushed into the ground, and stop being taken advantage of, and stop letting empty thoughts, and feelings, win.

My next post, will be how I’m going to change it. And this time, I will damn-well rise above it, for me, and no-one else. I’m taking a break from stretching my mind too thin, and trying to reach out to people. I’m taking a break from looking to other people… It’s time to listen to myself, and reach inside of me. Who am I? and what do I want?

Believe in yourself, for when you don’t, I will. But right now… I’m going to finally try and fix my broken pieces.

Words of the day

Now, I thought it’d be nice to have a little message, each day for people who need a helping hand, or to know that someone cares.

And here it is:

Whenever you feel like giving up, whether it because you have felt like death has followed you lately, or whether you feel like your friends have abandoned you, or even if you simply feel alone. Know that there are people who are there to speak to. But more importantly, don’t forget to speak to yourself.

You might think that is strange, and I don’t mean in the slightly scary way of Schizophrenic battles of the mind, but remember to listen to yourself, for what you think you want, can be so much different from what you need. Do you need some space? some isolation to get over something? Then give yourself it, don’t cling to other people, just sigh, give a deep breath, and have a day to yourself.

What you’ll find is that you’ll have a moment of realization, where that puzzle in your head fixes itself, because you allowed yourself some time to accept the events that have happened, and you will be open to moving forward, rather than being stuck, alongside the ghosts of your past.

And when you feel you need someone to talk to, and if you don’t have anyone there, I will be. Remember, that is all starts with you.

So…

Believe in yourself, for when you don’t, I will.