Wednesday, October 31, 2012

It's in the moments I despise when I realize that I am yours.
That I am your creation.
And I hate it

I have spent years trying to control them, trying to mask them and lately I've accepted that this isn't possible that I need to accept and manage them.
So why do I beat myself up when they occur?
Is it because I let someone make me so vulnerable that the rage comes out and that upsets me or is it that I see you in me that makes me the most upset?
I might be of your body but I will never be of your mind or your emotion; or rather lack thereof

I try to de-escalate, I try to detach, I try all of the coping mechanisms I've learned
But the triggers cause blackouts, periods of absolute anxiety and absolute rage
Even if the anger is justified, my reaction is not
And I'm not ok with that
So where does that leave me?
Pushing people away so they don't see the demon, so they can't get close enough to cause harm and witness this
So that they never have to see my reaction when a stranger that I don't even give a fuck about calls me a dyke
Logically I know how to handle it all, but in those moments, the control, the thought process and the reaction seem out of grasp.
I have gotten better in years in learning how to deal and how to manage
I don't pick fights, I stop fights, I stay out of trouble, I found faith in a higher power, I found faith in me
But my faith in myself isn't blind and isn't absolute, it is fleeting
To love is to have no judgement and I judge myself the hardest
But how does one separate wanting to be the best they can be without constantly evaluating who they are?

I never want to put my hands on anyone as you used to do to everyone in your life
Your wife
Your kids
Strangers
All because of your insecurities and your own internal struggle.
You might have made me, but you will never own me.  Not any part of you.
I will never be the same monster you are.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Asking Too Much

Another piece sent to me by Jo as a way of cheering me up on my down day last week, see post monster...


I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mothers joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. Tell me—knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old beating up little boys at school. If you were walking by a chemical plant, where smoke stacks were filling the sky with dark, black clouds, would you holler, “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud or would whisper, “That cloud looks like a fish, and that cloud looks like a fairy”? Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea? And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me, how would you explain the miracle of my life to me? See, I wanna know if you believe in any god, or if you believe in many gods. Or better yet, what gods believe in you. And for all the times you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you’ve asked come true? And if they didn’t did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who[m]? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see in the mirror on a day a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who ever taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment, will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? Would you think less of me if I told you I have lived my entire life a little off key and I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry I just plagiarized the thoughts of the people around me who have learned the wisdom of silence. Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence? And if you do I want you to tell me of a meadow where my skateboard will soar. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds. And if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon that if you wanted to you could pop—but you never would because you’d never want it to stop. If a tree fell in the forest, and you were the only one there to hear it, if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness? And lastly, let me ask you this: if you and I went for a walk, and the entire walk we didn’t talk, do you think eventually we’d kiss? No way. That’s askin’ too much—after all, this is only our first date.



-Andrea gibson
Asking too much


This poem was sent to me by Jo based on a conversation we had, I want to put it here as a placemarker as I found a lot of truth in it




Autobiography in 5 Short Chapters
a poem by Portia Nelson, published in her book
There's a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery

Chapter I

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter II

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter III

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit ... but,
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

Chapter IV

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter V

I walk down another street.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Convenient Truths

I'm tired of the convenient truths.
Tired of the shades of grey where you hide the details of the truths you don't care to let to the light.
Full disclosure has always been my policy.
Even when it caused issues.
Even when I saw the tears roll down your face.
You hide behind the minute, waiting to be discovered.
And the pain comes from that, from you knowing you were going to upset me and like a child at a surprise party, it all gets sprung at once.
And I'm overwhelmed.
And I fall.
And there I go again, picking myself up from the rubble.
My biceps torn from the amount of times that I have landed face first
And had to push myself up and onto these arms
So I can once again
Grab
Myself
By the bootstraps and find my own happiness.

I will not be a part of this game anymore.
I am not your pawn.
And you are not my queen.
I will not enable your consistent inconsistency.
I will not adhere to your convenient truths.
And I will not allow you to control my happiness.
I control my own
And my happiness only exists.
When you are in the grey area.
The one where my sun
Doesn't shine.

With every convenient truth, I find a step forward and away...


Thursday, September 13, 2012

Consistently Inconsistent

Reflection brings me towards the thought, that it's not a pretty face or affection that I crave but rather consistency.  Consistency of thoughts, consistency of emotions and hopefully corresponding actions that back up the thoughts and emotions.  It's disheartening to hear certain things from individuals, to get excited, to evoke emotion within to then see the actions completely contradict what was said.  You want to spend time with me, then make an effort.  I will gladly grant time to individuals that want to spend time with me, that want to bring positive experiences in my life.  I will drive to have those experiences, I will make time to have those experiences and most likely I will cherish those experiences.  You think you made a huge mistake in your life then progress and fix it.  I am so overwhelmed with the what if's of every day life, so tired of the I want to do this, then make a plan and do it.  Stop talking incessantly about the things you could accomplish if only, stop living your life stuck in a series of prepositions. Contradictory to school house rocks, and, but and or do not get you really far. I want people in my life, friendships, relationships, intimacy that have a drive and that put effort into their lives and the lives of those they impact to make things better, to constantly progress or at least to constantly learn. I don't want to feel restrained, I don't want to think I could've done that if I weren't so focused on x,y,z; I just want to do things and then come to a conclusion on whether to do it again or to mark it as something that's been done. 

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Monster

For the last month, I seemed to have my life on track.  I've started healing, I've started reflecting, and most of all I have started doing things for me.  The small things in life that we take for granted every day like the ability to eat, the ability to sleep and better yet the ability to climb out of bed have returned.  I have surrounded myself in love and I bathe in the warmth of it daily.

That being said, you get what you give and I am no stranger to extending myself out to others, even when sometimes the love isn't so deserved.  I have stood by my words and have nothing negative to say about my past relationship or my recent ex.  I would be a fool to have anything else to say as she obviously was significant to me and played a large role in my development.  Plus let's be real, I'd look like quite a twat to say she was awful and I dedicated two years of my life to her.   We all have our positives and negatives about us, I am no angel nor do I exist anywhere near the realm of perfection.  We didn't work out for reasons but that doesn't mean I didn't love her and I didn't care.  Today I was confronted with the notion that there seems to be a group of people that think that I embody the ideals of an asshole.  This has hit me a bit harsh in that I try to live my life dedicating myself emotionally, mentally, physically, financially, spiritually etc to try to better people's lives that I come in contact with and even some that I might have never met.  Anyone that knows me could attest to the fact that I would be more than willing to give a stranger the shirt off my back, do a goofy dance to bring a smile to anyone's face or offer anyone help that may be struggling.  I have my down days as well and those that extend this same simple gratitude are the beacons of hope for me during that period, even if it's something as simplistic as a joke, a sweet handmade card (thanks goes to Brie for this amazing dino card she made me yesterday), or a poem/song caring word.

I have a tendency as well to often be treated as a doormat due to this overarching philosophy of love as I have a hard time drawing boundaries of when I should/shouldn't exert myself.  I can't watch people struggle if I have the capacity to help, but oftentimes I lose myself in trying to help.  These last couple weeks have been no different for me.  I have been facing the death of not only family pets (yes multiple family members :( ), but also actual family members and I have been struggling.  Top it off with a lot of emotional and mentally wordplay that has been conspiring with people in my life and you have the longeberger basketcase called TiLL.  I believe in being an open book, I believe in honesty in all realms of my life to the point it most likely can cause issues.  If there's something anyone every wants to know if they just ask, they most likely will get a long drawn out detailed dissertation of whatever it might be.  I have chosen this week to ask my ex to get her own insurance plan or to start contributing towards the insurance that I have been paying for in the two months since we have parted ways.  I know she needs insurance, I was adamant that she get it once I had a job that offered partner benefits and being that our pay scales weren't equal I had no issues paying for it.  Now that we have parted ways and she has engaged with a new partner for the last two months, I only feel it right that her or her partner either take on the payment or that she finds an individual plan that will support her needs.  For this I have been met with hostility and apparently a group of people that think that I am a raging asshole.  I want her to be healthy, I want her to get the care she needs, but at the point that she is not with me and has moved onto someone else, I also don't feel it my responsibility to spend $300 a month on her care.  We do not have a relationship in any capacity and the tie is not a healthy one for us as it leaves me feeling used and exploited.

I have given everything I could to that relationship and I believe that to the core of my soul, so why am I struggling with this notion?  Because people that don't know me want to pass judgement for my actions, because people don't know the situation in it's entirety and care to voice opinions?  Why should that bother me, why should I care?  I wish I had these answers, but the long and short of it is that I do.  I care a lot that people would think I would be out to harm anyone else especially someone I had such a love for.  I cared immensely for J, I offered her a home for her and her son when she had no where to go, I offered to help her get back on her feet after she had some issues in the past and I will never regret anything I have ever done because the intentions were that to help others better their lives.  I was blessed with the fact that I received a good education, a good job and a good support network.  At the time we were together I had no issues paying for certain things or assisting as I knew once she got on her feet or got the ability to contribute she would.  This is now a different case and I am facing a mortgage that I have to cover along with student loans and other various bills.  She has chosen a new life and I shouldn't feel responsible for her.  I have carried this insurance for two months to help her.  I have encouraged her to get help and to try to better herself.  I keep ending up in turmoil trying to heal and having a lot of the choices she's made prominent in my life, so I have tried to take a step back to which I have found out that others view me as a jerk.  So here is my peace for myself, I provided her a loving home with utilities for two years, I have loved her and her son for two years and will still continue to love Cameron as if he were my own, I have carried her insurance for the last year and have provided assistance as needed along the way in terms of additional finances, love, support etc.  I don't have the capacity to do that currently and will offer options for her to continue what she needs, but that being said her choices and her life no longer involve me, so I should not feel bad in not paying for them anymore.  I wish her the best, I wish all of the greatest things in the world to come to Cameron and I hope that they both find all of the happiness in the world. 

Sometimes you have to get broken down to get back up


Note: This is an old crosspost from another site that I wrote but in the effort of keeping one blog, I repost it here...Warning, it is slightly graphic..






Recently I have been experiencing an obscene amount of emotion that honestly I'm not quite sure how to navigate. My life has been flipped upside down in that it switched from the All American dream white picket fence, kids, fiance, fancy job, materialistic bullshit to that of the loner angry emo kid. My fiance recently abandoned our relationship for whatever reasons she found useful to run. To be honest, I couldn't really tell you what happened or else maybe things in my world would make a ton more sense. I thought our time apart would help her to grow, to help her get things under control, to allow her the space she would need to gain the bearings and start supporting herself whereas I've always been her crutch. The difference is this alone time hasn't quite been spent alone and for someone like myself that believes in this crazy concept of monogamy, it's been a bit brutal and a pretty large blow to my boi ego. To go from engaged and planning pregnancy, to your former partner being in a relationship with someone new all in the course of a few weeks has led to a considerable amount of rage and sadness. In my world they tend to be one and the same. Oftentimes left unprocessed and undealt with they eventually turn into extreme numbness and the desire to pick fights with anyone that even ties their shoes the wrong way. A complete and total contrast to the kid that goes to anger management once a week and seems to be your normal white collar geeky IT doormat.
I've tried any way I can to get rid of my feelings, to get rid of the pain and the care and concern I have for someone that doesn't seem to even care about themself, but I've found no avail. I instead went into a great bout of depression and ceased going to work, eating, caring and thinking. I became abusive to myself mentally, emotionally and physically. I became needy and clingy which only made me despise myself even more. I struggled to accept my own vulnerability and weakness while feeling content in my gender and self identity. I have had amazing friends and family attempt to drag me out of it, show up randomly, bring me groceries and in general just love me, but still there is a large void in my life. I left the country went on a hiatus to visit yet more family and friends and someone that I consider a life line for me. While there it was like I was in heaven, I had no worries, I had nothing to deal with. I started to recover, to recoup and to begin to heal and even eat. Leaving Canada destroyed me, driving through the turnstiles at customs back into the US, I was overwhelmed with anxiety and fear; all of the pressure instantly falling onto me like an anvil. I had recently arranged with a friend to try to find some release through allowing her to have the free will to literally beat me senseless. I know to most this sounds obscene and to those of my friends that aren't into the scene, they were shocked and appalled that I would even consider something. Suggesting I seek therapy or even commit myself to a hospital. Also given my past many saw this as more destructive behavior as opposed to healthy release. To my close friends that have experienced the scene, they thought this could be a good thing, it could get out whatever I need or at least give me some of the individual attention that I have been craving.
I re-immersed myself in the play world. Started attending small events here and there. The end of the week would be set to be the date for the scene. I invited two other close friends to attend and figured that the house could be almost converted to a dungeon type situation if people felt compelled to do their own things or even just join in. My one friend I recently realized is a rather wicked sadist (ironically enough something I never picked up on considering I view him as one of the most giving, compassionate and kind people I have ever encountered) and I asked him to join in on the scene as he has been my right hand man through most of what I have been going through and facilitating thoughts on how to begin the healing. He and my other friend determined that they could do a co-topping scenario and set to work it out. We went through the normal what do you not want, where are your limits and honestly as this truly was almost a first scene for me, I just gave free range with the preface of nothing remotely sexual.
They shackled me to my bed while I stood there, the chains not allowing room to move, but rather just stand in a fairly limited capacity. They started off lightly in good humor while hitting me with twizzlers. Who would have thought that twizzlers could cause some serious damage and we watched as my left and right shoulders almost instantly welted and split open with blood. From here a plethora of different items came into play, to be honest I could tell you what was what, I could just tell you how certain hits landed differently than others. I separated my mind from my body and proceeded to get punched, flogged, hit with a riding crop and smacked with other various items. Along my back, shoulders and waist I took hits and handled the pain in the best way I know how, silently. They moved to hit me with weighted mechanisms as I held items above my head that would trigger the stop of play if dropped (ie they caught onto the fact that I apparently wouldn't tap out no matter what). They took turns delivering blow after blow on my ass until I eventually dropped the items. They cared and hydrated me and asked if I wanted to continue. I of course said yes as I have a pretty ridiculous tolerance if not love for pain. They moved onto caning my thighs both the back and front and hitting me also with any sort of objects they could find around the room such as cords from my heat rocks etc. As someone that is not a fan of being touched; Yes, I am that kid, the anti touch, I shall never appear vulnerable and no I don't switch well unless you prove you deserve that respect; I struggled with extreme feelings of angst, rage and a plethora of other emotions I couldn't even begin to describe that resulted in me swinging at my surroundings and at myself. My first reaction to rage and pain never seems to result in me wanting to harm others but rather an extreme feeling of rage towards myself. Memories of everything just started to flood back as they continued the scene, resulting in a complete feeling of disassociation from my body. Blow after blow struck down and as they went higher on my thighs and my anxiety got worse, I disassociated more, I forgot about half of the memories that came flooding back. Memories from my ex, memories from others in my past and I struggled to get past, almost viewing each hit as a controlled way of saying fuck off, you will never have me. You can't have this control, I will literally have you beaten out of me. What you have taken from me, can't and won't be yours any more and it will be mine again. Each scar, each bruise, everything on my body is of my own accord and you can't own me. I asked for this and my healers will cleanse me.
They continued on with eventually one moving to the top of me to pound on my chest and my arms. As one handled the top portion of my body, the other handled my legs and stomach working in a syncopated rhythm that led me to not only tense up, but to become absolutely defensive and angry. My fists turning into masses that I couldn't unfurl, my breathing becoming rapid and my state of being turning into a dark mass that normal results in me blacking out and waking up with some sort of extreme scarring, broken appendage or bleeding. All of it built to this climax, since I had no control I had to accept what I was given and learn to deal (yes there were safe words, yes I could have tapped out), but that didn't even seem to be a possibility as the scene progressed. And then it hit, tears streamed down my face as the pressure broke, the climax turning from one with rage to one of unending love as they both ceased, they took the weight that I had been holding from my hands as my arms shook and they all surrounded me with love. The two involved in the scene and our third friend that had been watching all surrounded me, holding me, talking with me, convincing me that it was time to let my rage and hate go. To let this hold of negativity and depression go, to let all these unwarranted demons exit and to reunite with myself. I have never been a great one at expressing emotion nor allowing others, including my partners, to truly know everything that is occurring within my head but yet I felt safe. I felt safe amongst the people that literally just beat the bloody crap out of me because they broke me to help me rebuild. They removed the negative through their energy and beat it out of me until I could find the catharsis I needed. The bruises are now 5 days old and still look quite new, you can see them in my photos, I see them everyday and am reminded at how much love I have and how much one needs to fight to be whole again. They say that there is beauty in the breakdown and honestly until you are broken I don't think you could ever understand, but I find the most beauty in the foundation that these selected few helped to lay in the efforts of helping me to rebuild.