28 February 2012
empty
My life is empty. I sit and wonder why I am here and what am I suppose to be doing with my life. As the days fly by I feel empty. You try and analyze life and your purpose, still I come up with nothing. I do everything I can for everyone and it stills fills my glass half empty. What must I do? I sit in this house that is suppose to be mine yet I feel like a stranger. I work my ass off yet nothing feels satisfying. I do what I feel is right yet it falls off this mountain I have tried to built for 33 years. Yes I have ,ome a long way and I am proud of what I have created, but still feel empty.
22 May 2011
Scary Grass...Part 2 of The Grass is Always Scarier...
I was mostly wasting away as things came to a head in Minnesota. One day my car was towed while I was at work. I scrambled to get the money to get it out. Once I had reclaimed it, it immediately broke down. I was in a new apartment after Scott moved in with his girlfriend, unwilling to ask anyone for help to return to Oklahoma. I only had two friends and I withheld a lot of my frustrations because I didn't want to burden them. My days had been reduced to working, sleeping, and staring at a box of sleeping pills on my nightstand.
The only relationship I had while I was there ended because he couldn't handle my struggles (funny, I dealt with his and mine when the relationship started). I had news for him; I couldn't handle my struggles anymore either. I called my best friend and told him I was so depressed that it was scaring me and that I wanted to come back to Oklahoma.
A funny thing happened, though. One day, when I decided to disclose some of my feelings to a friend, he struck me with words that have stuck with me since. "That's how life is." It was simple, but sometimes the mind can only comprehend something at a certain time when all the cards are in a special order. This was that time. I was in beautiful Minnesota with a fantastic job, but I had let my brother and a few unfortunate incidents blind me from the experience of being out, open, and free.
It was a work day. Without a car, I resorted to using the public transportation (which was actually quite nice). During a wait downtown, a man pulled out a violin and began to play. It was so random and beautiful that I was mesmerized. I could not take my eyes off of him or hear anything else. He played for a little while, then packed up once his bus arrived. It was a movie-magic type of moment that I would have probably missed, had I completely given up.
My best friend had already purchased a ticket and I had already packed, but part of me wanted to stay. For the first time, I was aware of my freedom. 14 years under my mom's oppression and another 10-12 under my own. Freedom was not something I had, mentally and emotionally. I was always tied to an issue or chained to someone.
I had a long way to go before I forgave Scott for being reckless with my life, but I had taken my first step towards true adulthood after passing the age of 30.
The only relationship I had while I was there ended because he couldn't handle my struggles (funny, I dealt with his and mine when the relationship started). I had news for him; I couldn't handle my struggles anymore either. I called my best friend and told him I was so depressed that it was scaring me and that I wanted to come back to Oklahoma.
A funny thing happened, though. One day, when I decided to disclose some of my feelings to a friend, he struck me with words that have stuck with me since. "That's how life is." It was simple, but sometimes the mind can only comprehend something at a certain time when all the cards are in a special order. This was that time. I was in beautiful Minnesota with a fantastic job, but I had let my brother and a few unfortunate incidents blind me from the experience of being out, open, and free.
It was a work day. Without a car, I resorted to using the public transportation (which was actually quite nice). During a wait downtown, a man pulled out a violin and began to play. It was so random and beautiful that I was mesmerized. I could not take my eyes off of him or hear anything else. He played for a little while, then packed up once his bus arrived. It was a movie-magic type of moment that I would have probably missed, had I completely given up.
My best friend had already purchased a ticket and I had already packed, but part of me wanted to stay. For the first time, I was aware of my freedom. 14 years under my mom's oppression and another 10-12 under my own. Freedom was not something I had, mentally and emotionally. I was always tied to an issue or chained to someone.
I had a long way to go before I forgave Scott for being reckless with my life, but I had taken my first step towards true adulthood after passing the age of 30.
18 May 2011
The Grass Is Always Scarier On The Other Side
People are slaves to thier own minds; a story of social anxiety
Everyone envisioned me to be a weak person as a kid. In some ways, they were true. I was a baby when left with strangers. Most people don't give psychology enough credit to realize that baby's are influenced by EVERYTHING. So, I was left with strangers...loving strangers, but I did not recognize them.
I grew up in a small town, made smaller by the fact my adopted mother (a-mom) didn't allow me out of her sight. I rarely went outside, usually just to get to school or whereever my parents were taking me. No sleepovers, no field trips, etc. My parents feared me being kidnapped/killed. I was raised in protection.
So, for 14 or 15 years, too say I was "sheltered" would be a severe understatement. I was the "boy in the social bubble". The experiences I needed to function in the world were just out of reach.
This made me awkward around people, which further alienated me from everyone. When my a-mom died, I only had the "courage" to leave home because I was numb from all the shit that had been laid in my lap.
Still, where ever I called home was my "safe sanctuary" and rarely did I leave it out of fear that I would be killed, harassed, or be rejected.
It seemed that the few times I strayed too far away from home base something terrible happened. One of the last incidents involved my little brother, Scott. This is hard to talk about because he and I have moved pass this ordeal, but the struggles I have had with Scott and Joe in an effort to be brothers is what a lot of this is all about.
If you read my post about the first time I saw Scott, you'll know I cherished him. Shy and scared of people as I was, I would have protected him with my life. So, when Scott called and said that he wasn't doing well and needed help getting his life/mind in order I went to him. There was little discussion.
I quit my job with the city, said goodbye to my friends, and headed north to lands uknown. It was a BORING drive, unless you like different altitudes of empty fields. I was terrified. The comforts of home and my job were in my rearview mirror. Scott being on the other end of my 12 hour drive was the only thing that made going outside my box bearable.
So, I get to Minnesota and immediately start trying to learn the environment (where food was, what jobs were available, and learning Scott's daily life). The first lesson I learned was that Scott would rarely be found at home. He was always working. His few moments of freedom were mostly spent with a new girlfriend. I assumed that in time, he would make time for us to discuss a plan to get his life back on track. Only a few weeks in MN, and I get a phone call from a friend, Ed. My adopted father (a-father) has passed away. I didn't have any money or a job, but Willie (in true fashion, if you've read my entry regarding him) "offered" to buy me a plane ticket.
After several days of preparation, crying, reuniting, and the funeral, I returned to MN.
Here I am in a new place with no friends and Scott my only lifeline. My a-father has died just weeks before Christmas. Between the time I came back and Christmas, I saw Scott once...the day he picked me up from the airport. He offered for me to spend Christmas with him and his girlfriend, but I was still grieving. Keep in mind that I had already lost my a-mom on Christmas morning in high school. Going to a stranger's house to "celebrate" was just a disaster. I wanted Scott to come back to his home Christmas, but I spent it alone. We made plans to go the movies, but he backed out. I was starting to get angry.
I had moved across the country, lost my a-father, and was without a job. Yet, I never saw Scott. And other than offereing money, he really was never there. Scott eventually stopped coming to the apartment altogether, because he was basically living at his new girlfriend's.
Things got so bad that he let the electricity get shut off. That's right. He was living with his girlfiend and I was in the dark. I became furious with him. I wanted to have it out with him, but he blew off every effort I made to meet with him.
One day, he sends me an email to inform me that I need to look for another place because he is was not going to continue paying on it. He was moving in with his girlfriend. I was in disbelief. I moved to help him but he was so pre-occupied with his girlfriend that he couldn't help his brother. I felt abandoned.
I eventually found a new place. However, I became so scared and depressed that I began to contimplate suicide. I worked and laid on my bed. That was all I ever did. Scott called me once or twice but I hated him. He managed to sting 3 or 4 of my mental issues; abandonment, depression, trust.
My point in this story is not bash Scott. I understand him and we have resolved our problems. My point is that Scott confirmed what I believed. If I leave house, something bad will happen.
It was not easy to overcome the curse of social anxiety that was ruining my chance for survival. Next blog, I will explain the things that I think helped me manage the disorder.
Everyone envisioned me to be a weak person as a kid. In some ways, they were true. I was a baby when left with strangers. Most people don't give psychology enough credit to realize that baby's are influenced by EVERYTHING. So, I was left with strangers...loving strangers, but I did not recognize them.
I grew up in a small town, made smaller by the fact my adopted mother (a-mom) didn't allow me out of her sight. I rarely went outside, usually just to get to school or whereever my parents were taking me. No sleepovers, no field trips, etc. My parents feared me being kidnapped/killed. I was raised in protection.
So, for 14 or 15 years, too say I was "sheltered" would be a severe understatement. I was the "boy in the social bubble". The experiences I needed to function in the world were just out of reach.
This made me awkward around people, which further alienated me from everyone. When my a-mom died, I only had the "courage" to leave home because I was numb from all the shit that had been laid in my lap.
Still, where ever I called home was my "safe sanctuary" and rarely did I leave it out of fear that I would be killed, harassed, or be rejected.
It seemed that the few times I strayed too far away from home base something terrible happened. One of the last incidents involved my little brother, Scott. This is hard to talk about because he and I have moved pass this ordeal, but the struggles I have had with Scott and Joe in an effort to be brothers is what a lot of this is all about.
If you read my post about the first time I saw Scott, you'll know I cherished him. Shy and scared of people as I was, I would have protected him with my life. So, when Scott called and said that he wasn't doing well and needed help getting his life/mind in order I went to him. There was little discussion.
I quit my job with the city, said goodbye to my friends, and headed north to lands uknown. It was a BORING drive, unless you like different altitudes of empty fields. I was terrified. The comforts of home and my job were in my rearview mirror. Scott being on the other end of my 12 hour drive was the only thing that made going outside my box bearable.
So, I get to Minnesota and immediately start trying to learn the environment (where food was, what jobs were available, and learning Scott's daily life). The first lesson I learned was that Scott would rarely be found at home. He was always working. His few moments of freedom were mostly spent with a new girlfriend. I assumed that in time, he would make time for us to discuss a plan to get his life back on track. Only a few weeks in MN, and I get a phone call from a friend, Ed. My adopted father (a-father) has passed away. I didn't have any money or a job, but Willie (in true fashion, if you've read my entry regarding him) "offered" to buy me a plane ticket.
After several days of preparation, crying, reuniting, and the funeral, I returned to MN.
Here I am in a new place with no friends and Scott my only lifeline. My a-father has died just weeks before Christmas. Between the time I came back and Christmas, I saw Scott once...the day he picked me up from the airport. He offered for me to spend Christmas with him and his girlfriend, but I was still grieving. Keep in mind that I had already lost my a-mom on Christmas morning in high school. Going to a stranger's house to "celebrate" was just a disaster. I wanted Scott to come back to his home Christmas, but I spent it alone. We made plans to go the movies, but he backed out. I was starting to get angry.
I had moved across the country, lost my a-father, and was without a job. Yet, I never saw Scott. And other than offereing money, he really was never there. Scott eventually stopped coming to the apartment altogether, because he was basically living at his new girlfriend's.
Things got so bad that he let the electricity get shut off. That's right. He was living with his girlfiend and I was in the dark. I became furious with him. I wanted to have it out with him, but he blew off every effort I made to meet with him.
One day, he sends me an email to inform me that I need to look for another place because he is was not going to continue paying on it. He was moving in with his girlfriend. I was in disbelief. I moved to help him but he was so pre-occupied with his girlfriend that he couldn't help his brother. I felt abandoned.
I eventually found a new place. However, I became so scared and depressed that I began to contimplate suicide. I worked and laid on my bed. That was all I ever did. Scott called me once or twice but I hated him. He managed to sting 3 or 4 of my mental issues; abandonment, depression, trust.
My point in this story is not bash Scott. I understand him and we have resolved our problems. My point is that Scott confirmed what I believed. If I leave house, something bad will happen.
It was not easy to overcome the curse of social anxiety that was ruining my chance for survival. Next blog, I will explain the things that I think helped me manage the disorder.
Found out who I was
So when I was growing up I always thought Bj was my mother. No one ever talked bout our mom to me that I could ever remember. When I first hear of Judy (MOM) was in 1988 when they caught the guy who killed her. I remember I was ease dropping on one of her phone conversations and heard she was so upset about something. Scared I would be beaten over this I stayed away. I remember she went to court a for awhile and she brought a paper clippings home that I stole and went to my room and read it. I did not understand really what I was reading except a lady was murdered and she had 3 kids. The paper said he was on the run for 9 years before they finally found him on a routine traffic stop. I let it go kinda never talked about it that I could remember. I know that there was this trunk that was in my room that had a lock on it. Of course we was always forbidden to open anything that was not mine or what not.
It wasn't till Chris Sneed was brought into the picture that I really found out about my mom and this dorky ass kid named Chris. Little did I know he was our brother for so many years the only brother I knew of was Joe. Wow did the stories start coming out then. It was like this big soap opera. I mean could you imagine growing up knowing one life and then figuring out it was a lie. Being a kid I never put 2 and 2 together about being part black. I was always called the "N" word but never really thought about it. What a shame, I grew up listening to Dolly Parton, George Strait and any other country and western singer you could think of. Hell was even listening to heavy metal like Metallica, ACDC, Black Sabbath. Wasn't till Joe really started hanging out with me did I start listening to R&B and rap. HMMM I think I was like 13 or 14. Living a lie for 13 or 14 years really can hurt the soul. The best way for me to handle all this was to make this new closet I had and stuff all this shit in it. Things can not bother you if its out of sight and out of mind. Really I wonder if all this shit was a dream and it actually happen. I mean come one lets fly through this list and see how much shit I personally have been through.
1. Beaten
2. Locked in my room by deadbolt
3. Forced feed
4. Mentally Brain washed
5. Stand in the corner from 8 am till 10 pm for the summer break
6. Left at stores and had to walk home. I'm not talking about older Scottie. 7-10
7. Locked out of the house for a day and night. Slept outside age 6
8. No friends
9. embarrassed in public
10. being forced to sleep in the dark even though I was terrified of the dark.
I remember this one time after finding out this whole ordeal about mom and this guy. I heard he was going to kill me also. I was so scared that I had a dream of being out in these apartments. I remember playing in the parking lot with some kids. Cars I could see driving by in the distance. I remember this car slammed on its brakes and a black man jumped out and screamed my name. He pulled out this gun and started shooting at me. He hit me in the leg, I cried and crawled to this big rock and laid behind it. He just kept shooting I could hear him getting closer and closer with every shot. When he walked up he pointed the gun at me and cocked the trigger back and said goodnight. I woke up and cried just laied there and cried myself back to sleep. That dream has haunted me everyday of my life. Fuck it still scares me.
It wasn't till Chris Sneed was brought into the picture that I really found out about my mom and this dorky ass kid named Chris. Little did I know he was our brother for so many years the only brother I knew of was Joe. Wow did the stories start coming out then. It was like this big soap opera. I mean could you imagine growing up knowing one life and then figuring out it was a lie. Being a kid I never put 2 and 2 together about being part black. I was always called the "N" word but never really thought about it. What a shame, I grew up listening to Dolly Parton, George Strait and any other country and western singer you could think of. Hell was even listening to heavy metal like Metallica, ACDC, Black Sabbath. Wasn't till Joe really started hanging out with me did I start listening to R&B and rap. HMMM I think I was like 13 or 14. Living a lie for 13 or 14 years really can hurt the soul. The best way for me to handle all this was to make this new closet I had and stuff all this shit in it. Things can not bother you if its out of sight and out of mind. Really I wonder if all this shit was a dream and it actually happen. I mean come one lets fly through this list and see how much shit I personally have been through.
1. Beaten
2. Locked in my room by deadbolt
3. Forced feed
4. Mentally Brain washed
5. Stand in the corner from 8 am till 10 pm for the summer break
6. Left at stores and had to walk home. I'm not talking about older Scottie. 7-10
7. Locked out of the house for a day and night. Slept outside age 6
8. No friends
9. embarrassed in public
10. being forced to sleep in the dark even though I was terrified of the dark.
I remember this one time after finding out this whole ordeal about mom and this guy. I heard he was going to kill me also. I was so scared that I had a dream of being out in these apartments. I remember playing in the parking lot with some kids. Cars I could see driving by in the distance. I remember this car slammed on its brakes and a black man jumped out and screamed my name. He pulled out this gun and started shooting at me. He hit me in the leg, I cried and crawled to this big rock and laid behind it. He just kept shooting I could hear him getting closer and closer with every shot. When he walked up he pointed the gun at me and cocked the trigger back and said goodnight. I woke up and cried just laied there and cried myself back to sleep. That dream has haunted me everyday of my life. Fuck it still scares me.
To My Mom
In my darkest hour, in my deepest despair will you still care, will you be there?
In my trials and my tribulations. Through our doubts and frustrations in my violence, in my turbulence through my fear and my confessions, in my anguish and my pain, through my joy and my sorrow in the promise of another tomorrow. Ill never let you part for you are always in my heart.
I did not write this. When I heard this I wrote this on my fb to my mom. I know she looks down on us and I hope she is proud of what we have accomplished in life and how we have become men.
In my trials and my tribulations. Through our doubts and frustrations in my violence, in my turbulence through my fear and my confessions, in my anguish and my pain, through my joy and my sorrow in the promise of another tomorrow. Ill never let you part for you are always in my heart.
I did not write this. When I heard this I wrote this on my fb to my mom. I know she looks down on us and I hope she is proud of what we have accomplished in life and how we have become men.
Living with a Auntie
Sorry it took so long to write another one but I had to dig kinda deep and remember. You know its kinda hard when you dont want to remember what happen in your past. When I was really young my grandmother and I had to move from dallas to Irving. Being the rebel that I was I did not want to leave my school, I really had no choice but go to John Haley Elementary. I really hated this school, new kids and teachers. I was always picked on when I was little for numerous reasons. The number one reason was I had a severe stuttering problem from alll the abuse I think growing up. So naturally kids made fun of me which really pissed me off. They also made fun of me cause of the clothes I had to wear. My hair style was another issue. WHen I tell you the kids had a field day with me. There was absolutely nothing they could not make fun of me for. If I opened my mouth I could not speak without someone making comments. I have a strong feeling this is the reason I am nervous when speaking in large groups is because I do catch myself going back to my old ways of not speaking correctly. If you pay attention closely I do still stutter. Reasons unknown to me and the numerous doctors I have seen for this problem, but I think I know why is the kicking of the skull and beatings I use to get. Anyways back to the story I did EVERYTHING in my power to create so much drama in my class to my teachers and class mates. So a solution was to move in with this lady who I thought was my Aunt (Ann Delatore) so I could go back to my old school.
You talk about excited man I packed my shit so fast I could not see straight. Man was this a mistake and one of those memories I blocked for a very long time. Living with this lady and her husband was a nightmare not only was I abused by my grandmother I was by here also. When I moved in I was so happy thinking things would be so different. I started school and things just went downhill. I would come home from school and have to eat roach invested food and goto my room which was in the attic. She was a nasty person and a pack rat. Her husband would be so mean to me (John) and treat me like I was trash. I would be ignored and never had any attention. I started this thinking I could make this a story but I have blocked it so long its hard to remember everything she had done to me. I will speak of one last topic of her and end this story.
The day chris came to visit us we all meet at Ann's house for like a reunion. We had fun hanging out with my new brother and Joe. The food was nasty of course Roach something. I know you remember this Chris. Anyways we spent the day over there just chillin. The only thing I remember after that was when she called my grandmother and swore up and down those ni99er kids stole something at her house and she never wanted us back there again. I have never respected her or John since. The ass whoopin I recieved from that was incredible. I watch alot of stand up comedy shows (black) and they always making fun of those ass whoopins we get when nothing comes out after awhile. Around this time I stopped crying and just took the whoopins, let me tell you it just pissed her off more. So I had to start faking like it hurt. I wish our mom was alive and we never had to go through the things we did. I know deep down inside she would have NEVER done this to us or let anyone have done this to us.
Thank You for taking the time to read our blogs
You talk about excited man I packed my shit so fast I could not see straight. Man was this a mistake and one of those memories I blocked for a very long time. Living with this lady and her husband was a nightmare not only was I abused by my grandmother I was by here also. When I moved in I was so happy thinking things would be so different. I started school and things just went downhill. I would come home from school and have to eat roach invested food and goto my room which was in the attic. She was a nasty person and a pack rat. Her husband would be so mean to me (John) and treat me like I was trash. I would be ignored and never had any attention. I started this thinking I could make this a story but I have blocked it so long its hard to remember everything she had done to me. I will speak of one last topic of her and end this story.
The day chris came to visit us we all meet at Ann's house for like a reunion. We had fun hanging out with my new brother and Joe. The food was nasty of course Roach something. I know you remember this Chris. Anyways we spent the day over there just chillin. The only thing I remember after that was when she called my grandmother and swore up and down those ni99er kids stole something at her house and she never wanted us back there again. I have never respected her or John since. The ass whoopin I recieved from that was incredible. I watch alot of stand up comedy shows (black) and they always making fun of those ass whoopins we get when nothing comes out after awhile. Around this time I stopped crying and just took the whoopins, let me tell you it just pissed her off more. So I had to start faking like it hurt. I wish our mom was alive and we never had to go through the things we did. I know deep down inside she would have NEVER done this to us or let anyone have done this to us.
Thank You for taking the time to read our blogs
05 May 2011
Locked up Abroad
I have these memories of being a child and I pray that it never happen to me or any other child in the world. You know people find the things we say sad and what not. I think I have been mentally screwed for life and will never be the same. I know I could never do the same to my kids or anyones elses kids what I have been through. I think the thought of doing it would tramatize me to a melt down. Just sitting here talking about it kills me inside but brings me closer to a realization that hey this shit actually happen to you. It scares the child that is still inside me till this day. I look at myself and see that frighten little boy who wet the bed from terror and studdord so bad he was so scared to talk because people made fun of him. You know its not only my grandmother who tortured me it was everyone who ever made fun of me when I was a child. They never realized that I was fucked up as a child.
You know for me when life gets hard I like to open that little closet and shove shit in there and shut the door. Shit for me that routine worked for years and years. I just would run and hide from all my issues including talking about my past. Most of my stories I would tell I can not due to the fact I just dont remember.
I want to talk about suicide. In all my years of drama and abuse I have never thought about suicide until January of this year. I wanted to do something stupid to myself and was really close to doing something but never did. You know this lifestyle I was raised in did take a toll on me and choices I have made in my life. Life is tough when you really have no one who cares for you when you are down. I dont look for no sympathy from anyone I just am telling you phases in my life so please do not think Im crazy or need some help.
I remember this one time I was locked in my room for the summer. There was a pad locked placed on my door so I would never come out when she stepped out. HAHA I remember only being allowed to eat once a day back then. I remember when I could sneak out I would grab anything I could to try and make bombs or what ever invention I could make.You know right before I was locked up I had to do the most craziest thing and that was take all and I mean ALL my toys out to the trash and throw them in the trash. When I came in the house I was oput under pad and key. Prison I have been to prison at a young age. I was thrown in the hole as they say in prison. I was disturbed young kid with no friends no mom, dad, no brothers no family. WHY? I can never answer that question. Was it cause I am black? Was she mad at my Mom?
You know I was asked one time what is love to you Scott? Love to me is what you would never do to someone who you care about.
You know for me when life gets hard I like to open that little closet and shove shit in there and shut the door. Shit for me that routine worked for years and years. I just would run and hide from all my issues including talking about my past. Most of my stories I would tell I can not due to the fact I just dont remember.
I want to talk about suicide. In all my years of drama and abuse I have never thought about suicide until January of this year. I wanted to do something stupid to myself and was really close to doing something but never did. You know this lifestyle I was raised in did take a toll on me and choices I have made in my life. Life is tough when you really have no one who cares for you when you are down. I dont look for no sympathy from anyone I just am telling you phases in my life so please do not think Im crazy or need some help.
I remember this one time I was locked in my room for the summer. There was a pad locked placed on my door so I would never come out when she stepped out. HAHA I remember only being allowed to eat once a day back then. I remember when I could sneak out I would grab anything I could to try and make bombs or what ever invention I could make.You know right before I was locked up I had to do the most craziest thing and that was take all and I mean ALL my toys out to the trash and throw them in the trash. When I came in the house I was oput under pad and key. Prison I have been to prison at a young age. I was thrown in the hole as they say in prison. I was disturbed young kid with no friends no mom, dad, no brothers no family. WHY? I can never answer that question. Was it cause I am black? Was she mad at my Mom?
You know I was asked one time what is love to you Scott? Love to me is what you would never do to someone who you care about.
This makes no sense to me. I hope it does to you.
So lately I have been thinking about alot of things. Mainly about this blog and the effect it has on you followers and myself included. I want to start off by saying thank you to this special someone in my life that has made me understand what this blog will do for myself and for everyone who reads this. Growing up the way I did and I can only speak for myself on this topic.
Deep down inside I hurt alot. I want something that everyone outside the beaty life has in one form or another. I have been alone my whole life. I have never had that mother figure in my life that would ever just come and comfort me when needed. I feel like I look for that in my relationships with women. I am 32 and it seems like I have been disappointed by every women who have ever crossed my path. No I am not looking for a mother those days are gone and can never be replaced. My worst fears in life is being alone again. Some of this may make sense to you and it may not make sense at all but I know what I mean.
There is times where I feel like I am locked up in a closet with no where to turn to. No family no life and sitting back I really do not have that. Yes I know you say you have your brothers. I am missing something else. What it is I couldnt tell you, my heart says its my Mom. Really though if I never knew or had one to raise me how could it be that. I am confused in my life I know what I want and I feel like its to late for that type of life anymore. I am a lost man who never had a family or a mom to look over and give me what I need which is support.
I am going to publish this to see if this makes sense and maybe someone can tell me what they think.
Deep down inside I hurt alot. I want something that everyone outside the beaty life has in one form or another. I have been alone my whole life. I have never had that mother figure in my life that would ever just come and comfort me when needed. I feel like I look for that in my relationships with women. I am 32 and it seems like I have been disappointed by every women who have ever crossed my path. No I am not looking for a mother those days are gone and can never be replaced. My worst fears in life is being alone again. Some of this may make sense to you and it may not make sense at all but I know what I mean.
There is times where I feel like I am locked up in a closet with no where to turn to. No family no life and sitting back I really do not have that. Yes I know you say you have your brothers. I am missing something else. What it is I couldnt tell you, my heart says its my Mom. Really though if I never knew or had one to raise me how could it be that. I am confused in my life I know what I want and I feel like its to late for that type of life anymore. I am a lost man who never had a family or a mom to look over and give me what I need which is support.
I am going to publish this to see if this makes sense and maybe someone can tell me what they think.
04 May 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)