Where it truly hurts
Why is it that everything that I do or say or try to do or try to say right now, whether in my online life or my offline life is coming out so wrong? I can’t even describe to any of you how frustrated and down-hearted I feel at this moment. I choose to do nothing. Nope, I should have acted or said something. I choose to do something. No, I should have been quiet and reserved. I said too much. No, I should have not said much, or rephrased it in a certain way. I said too little and now people feel even worse. And so on and so it goes. It is a difficult time for me, and I can’t seem to get any headway at all. I feel as though I have taken one step only to take three steps back. This is not some sort of Murphy’s Law sort of predicament, this is more like a personal hell.
What compounds the problem even further is that I see so many others are in some sort of pain and suffering themselves. There is just too many and too much hurting going on right now that I wonder how we all will make it through. Personally, I would feel as though I am doing and feeling worse rather than better. I do not wish to harp on myself too much or overstate it too badly, but I feel so ashamed, so humiliated, and so awful that it is hard to put words to those sensations. It hurts very much to see myself so out of it and to see how alienated and ostracized from others I am or have become. More and more people seem to be giving me the stiff arm rather than a hand. I realize that I have been a loner most of my life, so it impacts me that much more when I am lost in a group that I was once part of it. Even my mother once noted that fact when I was in college - that even amongst people I would consider friendly and make acquaintances with, I feel and look so far away. Let me state it a little bit more obviously. I have never belonged anywhere or to anyone in my entire life. I have never felt like I ever fit in and be a part of something good anywhere. There is always something strongly wrong with me or with the dynamic that creates the dilemma of “trying to force a square peg into the circle hole”. It is similar to the previous paragraph, which is littered with extremes of sorts. The general idea here goes something like this: Moody, you are too serious. You are not serious enough. You are too angry. You are not angry enough. You are too intelligent for our group. You are not intelligent in the right things enough for us. You are too short. You have too much ego. You don’t have any ego or confidence at all. You are too funny. Your humor is too bland. Your mind works too fast. Your mind works too slow. And on, and on, and on, and when you are done with that . . . it goes on and on some more. Never, damn it. Never have I ever been able to fit in. Never have I really felt like, “Yes, this is your home, this is your comfort spot. We want you here and we love you.” And, even if I was to come close to that level, what happens? Something happens or I do something extraordinary bad (but don’t realize it at the time), and everything falls apart.
Perhaps the questions that I ask myself at this time are these: “Why do they all run away from me? Why and how have I pushed them away? Why am I left all alone in this twisted cage of mine? Why must I be in such a horrible mess? Will the pain and separation from people ever stop?”
I also realize that, at the moment, I am a prisoner of my own mind, my own bad habits, and the pain and disgust that I have caused in all of you. I cannot apologize enough for it, and I really do not know how I can make it up to all of you. The one positive side to this predicament is that I have become very contemplative, very introspective, and very observant of many things, for indeed, I am taking this rebuilding process of myself and my impressions that I have left with people very seriously. I notice people all the time now and wonder things like, “I wonder what they are thinking about right now. What are their hopes and dreams? What are they looking for in this shop or that shop? Look at such a loving couple over there. How did that relationship start? Did they have some hardships, even arguments? How did they get through it? How would that ever look for me? Could I ever have a relationship? Look at that guy over here. He looks almost as bad as me. How did he get that way? Was it his fault or someone else’s fault? If we could go back and change a few things for that guy, would things now be any different? Hey, you over there . . . if you could go anywhere in the world for a long vacation, all expenses paid, where would you go and why?” It is true, even on an observational standpoint what I have gathered about people and about myself. People fascinate me. Human beings interest me. Perhaps they interest me so much because they are something that I am not. Human, personable, loveable, comfortable, all of these characteristics that time and time again I am badly reminded of that I do not really possess myself. I recognize that when you boil me down, I have no confidence, no esteem. I am too fragile. I have failing health and have failed at establishing myself and getting some sort of career that means anything. I am stuck at a hellhole in a dead-end job and I can’t pull myself out of it to save my life. My dreams have all become pipe dreams, some little fancy that is not connected in reality at all. I have perhaps squandered so many opportunities, most of which I was so blind in seeing there was an opportunity there. I am living proof of the axiom, “You know, you can get all A’s in life, but still wind up failing life.” It is true. I have failed. I have failed at the one thing that you can’t go back and take the class again, make a “do-over”, or otherwise rewind, erase, and tape over the old program. Let me say it even more directly now and forgive the language:
I am a fuck up.
I have done a FUBAR/FUBB
(Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition, Fucked Up Beyond Belief)
I can’t believe or understand the how or the why I fuck(ed) things up the way I did/do.
I am nothing. I was born with nothing, I lived with nothing, and I shall die with nothing.
Do I have a gift of anything? Not really. And if I did, there are too many people that are more gifted, more talented, more exuberant, or more active in their goals than me.
And no, you can’t imagine how hurt and how sad all of this makes me feel.
On the other hand, though, perhaps this introspection is, in some odd way, helpful. For now I know what it is like to feel panic. I believe I know what it is to feel trapped and hopeless. I believe I understand what it is to be melancholy and to sink into a long depression. I believe I may begin to understand what it is to be a human being, even though right now it seems so far away. I just hope I am not too late in correcting myself and correcting my life. It is so frustrating getting everything wrong at the moment, particularly when I am trying so hard to get things and put things right. I am reminded of the movie “WarGames” with a young Matthew Broderick staring up at the screen, watching Joshua, the supercomputer, playing games at the end saying, “Learn, damn it, learn!” I feel the same way about myself. I look at myself in person and online and shout at myself, “Come on, Moody, learn, damn it! For Godsakes, learn!”
I think what has triggered this thought process was a series of songs that I heard last night as I was driving home from work. These songs ironically went one after the other after the other, and I felt so sad in hearing them. What were these songs, you might ask? First up was Train and “Calling All Angels”. Next up was Avril Lavigne and “My Happy Ending”. Next after that was Collective Soul and “The World I Know”. The last piece was from DMB and their signature tune, “Ants Marching”. God, I realized how much I have screwed up so awfully and how nothing that I seem to do right now matters at all, since for some unholy reason, it keeps coming out wrong and surprising doing more harm than good. I just wish I can get out of this trap, this labyrinth, this hole that I have dug for myself. I don’t know how, but I have got to try. And, in some way, I realize that I may need a little help, a little leaning support. For, I recognize something very key and very important, but it does not speak to any type of dependency, either.
I realize that one cannot make it through life totally alone.
If you try to make it in such way, your companions will be misery, shame, and sadness.
And believe me when I tell you that I know all too well that lesson now.
Moody in Sorrow