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[dopeheaddiaries-blog]

You’ve Got To Start Somewhere

The focus here is on struggles in life, love, and drugs and is my outlet to express my self publicly in an anonymous way.

After approximately two years of very diligently doing everything in my power to destroy my life, and ruin the future I’d built up for myself until the age of 26, I experienced a spiritual awakening. Probably not quite like any other one you’ve ever heard of before since my awakening was the direct result of a drug-induced state of psychosis that left me questioning the existence and meaning of everyone and everything. No thought or belief even of the most simplistic thing could be trusted. Where was I? I had no clue. Maybe, I was in a psych ward talking to doctors, and patients, or other parts of my mind. Maybe, I was in jail for a terrible crime my mind couldn’t accept me having committed. Quite possibly I’m a comatose patient in a hospital dreaming my reality. As I said before, I didn’t have the slightest clue but one thing was certain. I. Did. Not. Trust. Anything.

Inspired by the woman I love most in this world. With you, I’m such a better man and I cherish every moment that you so lovingly give to me. Because of you, I aspire not just to be great but to be the greatest. Because of you I know that means so much more than becoming successful and wealthy. For without you all the wealth in the world couldn’t bring the joy one smile from you brings to my heart.

Man, this shit is really eating me alive. I really can’t take the way that the relationship between my father and myself has become. It’s embarrassing to admit, but the last month I’ve spent crying the majority of the time I’ve alone. Which, until very recently, has been almost all day every day. After all the emotional trauma that I’ve been through, currently being in an unhealthy relationship, and having just recovered from over a year of using insulin syringes to inject whatever interesting drug I could get my hands on, I need a little more recognition than what I’m getting. I feel like my father has forgotten that he still has himself to work on. I feel like he gave up on emotional self-improvement a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong. I love my father and appreciate everything that he’s done to support me, believe me. But I’m fucking over here working on healing HIS problems, my mother’s problems, my girlfriend’s problems and oh let’s not forget my problems. I’m not trying to put blame on anyone else for my problems. Trust that I take full responsibility for the things that are mine. But some of the things that we struggle with in life are generational issues that have been struggled with throughout your family line for decades. But if you can heal yourself. You might be able to heal your lineage. The reason why it’s being struggled with, in the first place, is because there clearly isn’t enough knowledge or experience. Generally speaking, I think it’s safe to say we don’t usually struggle with things we are both knowledgeable of and experienced at. So then I also feel like it would be safe to say that if you struggle with something, it’s a good idea to get knowledge and experience on that topic or you will continue to struggle with it. Experience without knowledge is almost useless. I can’t simply start getting good meaningful experiences from something without the knowledge of what a good experience actually would be. I only would learn about that experience and without at least another experience I’d have no knowledge to tell me if it was a good experience or bad and why or what the factors were that affected that experience. For me, I missed experiencing a lot between my parents. My Father never taught me how to treat a woman I love and care for. My mother never taught me how a woman acts towards a man she loves. Or did I, in fact, learn exactly that. My mother and father, divorced when I was so young I couldn’t understand what was actually happening. I remember there was a lot of unhappy times then I remember suddenly having to go to different houses to see both of my parents. I didn’t see them talk anymore. I didn’t see them work out their differences. I didn’t see them come together to solve problems. I didn’t see them build each other up and motivate each other. The two people I loved with the greatest purest love, the love of an innocent child, only showed hate toward each other. Though my father was careful not to speak badly of my mother for a very long time until I started to get older and ask better questions. My mother frequently spoke badly about my father and they rarely spoke face to face. They hardly even could bare speaking on the phone. I remember every time they had to see each other they made it seem like it was such a big deal and a problem. They couldn’t possibly stand being around each other. There was, the very rare occasion, that they did come together and talk and work as a team though. When all hell broke loose with me and neither of them had the slightest clue what to do with me. Oh and trust.. I put them through a hell that no person ever deserves. Hell, that I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy. Hell, that I learned was love. To me, that’s what love was. The way your mother treats your father and the way your father treats your mother is you learn what love looks like as a child. It’s no wonder that I said mean and hurtful things to my parents who would say mean and hurtful things about each other and to me. I learned that my mother whom I loved spoke about my father whom I love in that way. So… That must be what love is, correct? My father almost never spoke to my mother at all, and almost never had anything nice to say about her. So, that must be what love looks like, correct? I know that none of us are perfect. I know that we all make mistakes. I know that hindsight is 20 / 20. It doesn’t change looking back at the past, I can’t help but ask myself. WHAT THE FUCK were you two thinking? I love you both dearly but you failed me as parents. I think it’s time we all accept that. Trust me it sucks. I hate it more than anyone else. I’m sure it’s painful for you to admit and think but I promise you it’s 10 times more painful for me. OWN IT. We fuck up. You fucked up. We’re going to fuck up again. Whatever. Shit happens. Be honest and true to yourself. Forgive yourself, forgive others. Accept your shortcomings and start focusing on improving. You can’t change the past but we still have right now. But every second you continue to ride on autopilot not working on the things that I’m now forced to deal with as an adult you continue to fail me. AM I GOING TO TEACH YOU HOW TO GET SOBER OR ARE YOU GOING TO TEACH ME? AM I GOING TO TEACH YOU HOW TO COMMUNICATE OR ARE YOU GOING TO LEARN AND TEACH ME?!

I’m in love. More so than I’ve ever been in my entire life with someone whom I’m not worthy of their love and I’m trying so fucking hard to fix my issues and become a better person for the woman I love. Trying so fucking hard to fix the same problems that I’ve had over and over year after year with different girlfriends different people different things different times but the same fucking problems. SHE ISN’T THE PROBLEM. WE ARE. Yeah, we’ve fought. Yeah, we’ve treated each other like shit at times and hurt each other more than anyone else probably ever has or will. But, we’ve stuck by each other and kept pushing each other to be better do better. To grow, heal, and love ourselves again. She beyond a shadow of a doubt in my mind is the woman that is meant for me. She ain’t going to take my shit. She knows how great I am and she accepts nothing less. She loves me more than any woman has ever loved me before and yeah she’s got some issues but dammit I love her issues. I love her issues like they are my own and I would do any damn thing in the world to make her happy. I’ve said more than my piece today. Dope head signing out.