Thursday, October 20, 2005

Gawd Damn That's a Long Ass Blog - Volume 1

Well I started off my online adventure simple enough, like most of you I found myself clicking on the little “chat” link in Yahoo messenger, and the next thing you know, I find a list of rooms, some of them looked intriguing, but at least one of them looked like a place to hang my hat and call home. For me it was originally FOBW {Friend’s of Bill W.}, because believe it or not, I am NOT that creative really, so I stuck with what I knew. It was the usual for me actually, as like most of you, I encountered quite a few Yahoo puritans {the people who have been chatting on Yahoo for half a decade at least, and act like they traveled over on the Mayflower or something}, a bunch of also-rans {people who been hanging out in Yahoo a while, but rarely bring it up}, cast-offs {people who used IRC for at least a decade, but like me found that it really doesn’t exist anymore}, and of course new people who simply want someone to pay attention to them, or someone to pay attention too. You kinda get drunk in all of the attention. It was after-all very easy to not open the chat box, when you got drawn in too easily, or at least I could. I haven’t been in there in about a month now, so I guess that is an easy addiction really. I started blogging for the very same reason … a new link in Yahoo IM … click … play.

I am a very funny duck really, in terms of who I am, and what I am. I tell the truth in my blogs, even if it is wrapped in a pretty package. I am not very good at doing anything otherwise. I have this problem outside of the online world as well. Those outside of the computer will probably tell you that I am a rather endearing figure, as I have a glowing personality, and I hear I am not that bad to look at either. My little runs to the coffee shops, or to hang out downtown, are just as legendary around here, as they are in my blogs. I spend so much time doing whatever I can to make people feel good about themselves {most of the time sub-consciously} that I tend to get tangled up in other people, even if it is just the dreamy little 20 year old handing me my Ice Coffee, at a drive up window. The fact of the matter is that I actually do love people, but I hate the commitment beyond that. I kinda like the fact that I break a few hearts along the way, and I can act all innocent about having done it when it is all said and done. It’s one of the little treasures about being manic, but like my mother before me, it never translated into anything. I could usually just do a hit and run, and be off to the next thing. My popularity wanes at best usually, and then when I am forgotten about I can walk on to the next thing. Any damage that I might have accidentally caused, or even sub-consciously caused on purpose would be forgotten about in time, and I was just a happy little Jeremy, with a new playground and new playmates. All in all, any simple fascination that anyone had for me would pass usually rather quickly after my issues came to pass.

A wonderful example of this, is the bands I used to play in when I first got sober. These were at best little lipstick, leather fantasy acts {you know, where girls rush the stage to get make-up tips}, and of the several that I was in, nobody really had the opportunity to get to know the real me, but was fascinated enough to want to touch the fake me, that stood before them. When it all got to be too much, the playing, the fighting, other peoples drinking, the emotionally bankrupt nature of musicians, I simply walked away, and headed off for college. I didn’t have to worry much about people missing me, or actually really caring about me, although there were many who desperately wanted to see the explosion {the last band I was in back in 89, actually headlined shows that the members of the soon to be Godsmack opened for, but our last show “behind chicken wire” ended up with all of us kicking the ever-loving crap out of each other on stage … this did cause a ripple effect, and false popularity for a while … lol}, and really chose not to see the actual show, or the people who put it on. In it’s own way it was my first real attempt at sharing my own self discovery after-all. and as I look back on it, I see how I despised the attention, yet as a self abusive person I also thrived on it. My own self righteousness from being newly sober was the only thing that dragged me through that mire, and got me to the next logical place, relatively unscathed.

Fast forward to the last few weeks. I had successfully gotten past all of the hate mail, from the first few attempts at blogging. I found it amusing the other day, as the smoke cleared from my Blogaside, that a really dear online friend couldn’t believe that I get hate mail. Fuck yea, I get hate mail, I am an attractive man who gets a lot of attention, good or bad, so I am going to get hate mail. I know that sounds rather egotistical, but I find that being blunt and applying tags to what I see is easier than trying to find the inner feelings of others, in a Quasi-Democratic, Oprah, nature. Yet again other times, I do want to try to help others find the nature of their problems, when it probably is nothing more than a Quasi-Democratic, Oprah style temper tantrum, at best. I had found myself being Jaded on those boundaries, while this was going on, so I needed to bring it up. My hate mail bag was only starting to be eclipsed by my love mail bag finally about 3 weeks ago. It was my total self destruction over my good friend {former girl friend’s} suicide attempt that started it, and as I was NOT getting through it all realistically, and stuffing a lot of it, I became vulnerable. There is NOTHING in this world worse than a fallible person, who is starting to be placed on a pedestal, and I was not only starting to get there, I was feeding it and living vicariously through it. Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, JD Salinger, Marlon Brando, and yes even Adolf Hitler, have all succumb to the issues that I was facing, and like them, I started giving myself over to it.

I started noticing that all of my issues, as they were being emoted into the Blogosphere were simply being reveled, and often cherished, and even worse, justified, and rather than snap out of the little funks I was having, I was creating BIG FUNKS, that were getting harder to get out of. My reality was starting to cave in, and I didn’t notice at first, but I was attaining a level of God Complex, that up until now, I had always staved off. I had no defense to my own vapid insanity, as my own delusional spirit was becoming the very fuel that fed the fire. As I started allowing myself to believe that my shit didn’t stink {when truth be told, my shit really is stinkier than most}, I was carrying on my old self abusive, passive suicidal, tendencies that always wind me up in a mental hospital labeled as a “homicidally depressed individual”, or in other words, someone with the inability to care. To sum that up, it means I am afraid to live and afraid to die.

It actually started with the dreams. The reality of overly explicit sexual dreams is that the person who is having them, and believe it or not “trapped” by them, is starting to be individually obsessed within themselves, and quite possibly becoming power mad. {thanks Leora} To think what sharing those with others does, as my responses to my wild dreams, were getting my “love mails” going through the roof! I gave in to the temptations of self, and I started feeding the masses. My deviant sexual nature, and my desperately sick and suffering mentality were all that I wanted to give anymore, and despite what it seemed like, my wonderful creativity was starting to fall apart, and it hurt. I had lost ME, and it looked like I had actually found me.

My God Complex didn’t end there, and this is the part which nearly killed me throughout all of this. I started having the little asides, the “chat room affairs” as we used to call them, and I was destroying a beautiful woman off to the side of all of this {and no it isn’t as bad as I just made it sound, but I had to be bluntly honest to lay it out}, and what really pissed me off, was that I really hate people like me. Actually I should say, I really hate people like what I had become. I watched that little “road trip” unfold last weekend, which was all centered around someone exactly like what I was at the moment, and my own self hatred became very apparent. I have ALWAYS been accused of being an internet predator, and like most mud, just keep throwing it against the wall long enough, and it will stick. It stuck, and I was furious about it, and had nobody realistically to blame but myself. Of course I will mention that the predatorily man that was being met, has always used me as a lightning rod of deflection to his own behavior, so I couldn’t handle the thought of looking him in the eyes, and actually calling him “Bro” and knowing it was so true, finally. I thank God that my chat affairs, which lasted a whopping 10 days, at this point have no lasting damage anywhere, but it is a nice little reminder of what I really am if I allow myself to be. In the process during one of my many IM box sessions with a woman who I was trying to help I made a comment that just kicked me square in the nuts, “When someone loves you it is just obvious” that coupled with an evening of feeling sorry for myself, coupled with scanning pictures of my beautiful children who kinda miss their daddy, who was too busy being a Blog Star, to pay them as much attention as they deserve, so he can save the world, and damage smaller pieces of it combined, led to the breakdown, and the desperate need to run away screaming.

It came crashing down on me, as I was talking to 4 different people in chat boxes … One whom I was trying to save from a rotten marriage … You know who you fucking are, just leave for the love of GOD … One who was having relationship issues … I might have been pushing on her too hard, bus she is at least 10 million dollars worth of human being, so her boyfriend who I think reads this too better start kissing her ass as well … another who was having severe depression and drug addiction issues … no asides on this one, it’s usually the most common of my chat box 12 step calls … and last and NEVER again to be least, my precious Lori, who should have been enjoying time with her friends who came out to visit her, but as always, was standing pat beside the man she so OBVIOUSLY loves, and I was absolutely ravaged by the feelings of self loathing over that. The little light bulb went off over my head, and having never had a woman like her in my life … smart … funny … beautiful … just plain wonderful … and so obviously in love with me, I wanted to give all of this up for her, and the kids, and most of all ME!

So the next day, it came to pass that she wouldn’t want me to give this up, after a beautiful night of just watching Buffy, and cuddling. The kids made it known within a few hours of over exhausted daddy time, that they actually like a little alone time … lol … and as for me, let’s face it I can’t give this up. I created this monster and the only person{s} who is going to kill it are all of you. When you stop listening, I may stop talking. Until then, I am going to stop feeding the demons that want to kill me, and get back to being the Superdaddyman, that earned the attention to begin with. Life is always a battle, when you always seem to want to fight it, God Loves You And So Do I ;8o)

p.s. … for those of you who are getting the e-mail programs fired up to simply blast the shit out of me over this one … the “Good He Deserves It’s” the “Who The Hell do You Think You Are’s” and the “Get Out And Stop Being So Full Of Yourself’s” … don’t bother anymore, I just delete them now … I don’t need the “Misunderstood Prince Charming” complex those gave me anymore either … The Crow has left the building {couldn‘t resist} :D