This is something I have been trying to write for months and months. Forgive me if it goes astray from being coherent or making sense… but the last however long it’s been amount of months that I have been absent from your life has been a time of paradoxical strangeness, indifference and outright mental solitude and exhibition at the same time. I write in a way in which I am comfortable.. so if it seems outlandish, false or full of hyperbole then I apologize. At this moment in life, the catharsis of just putting these words finally out is already doing much towards my recovery.
This is for you… but more so for me.
“…this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board washed and bound like crooked teeth…”
I suppose I should begin by apologizing, mostly to those who cared for me most.. those whom which I was deeply engaged with in one way or another, those who most likely felt abandoned upon my swift exit. I am truly sorry… and while apologies are words fleeting off into eternity, and while I could sit and try to explain myself, I don’t know how much it would matter. You can however take the absolutely barren feeling deep within my guts as an indication of how I feel about the impact I know i potentially caused.
Sometimes what is most necessary in our lives is not what is comfortable or even right to others. Sometimes our greatest triumphs come from our worst tragedies. Sometimes you just cannot explain yourself, your actions, or your feelings in a way that makes sense to others. And that’s ok.
I didn’t know at the time how much and in what ways that grief would affect me. Unfortunately for others, it affected me in a way that ripped me out of everything from my comfort zone to my existence in your life. In all my endless diatribes and moments of influence and advice, I always advocated that it was okay to show weakness… to lean on those who love you, and in that moment when the reality of my own situation came into fruition… I failed.
I failed to realize that it would be alright for me to show myself as vulnerable, and I failed to lean on you for the comfort and support I so desperately needed at the time. I failed you and everyone else who needed me most, and when I needed you all most I walked away and rejected what was openly available to me. For that… I am truly sorry.
To ask where I have been… is to look into the ocean.
“….always running out of fight so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea…”
My life has been a raging crashing tempest, mixed with medication.. ups, downs, failures, progress and revelations. I never realized a person and their death from this earth could crush me the way it did.. especially given the circumstances. I spend so much time keeping myself shrouded in mystery and carefully constructed walls.. so I will be as transparent as possible.
Prior to his death, I had not spoken to him in a major amount of years. I had no resolve for the events of my childhood… for his absence in my life… for the things he did and did not do, and everything else in between. Like many and perhaps most reading this, my parents ended their marriage when I was rather young. What followed was years of ignorance, years of not knowing my worth to anyone… years of solitude and quest for significance. Along the way there were flimsy glimmers of hope… a random card here, a 20 dollar bill there, a passing wave while walking down the street… but otherwise he was content to his own, and I soon became to mine.
As I grew older I developed this sense that I would never really know him, and in his final years I so desperately wanted to. Letter after letter.. call after call… all unanswered… all ignored.. and these fleeting blurry memories in my mind. The last time I saw him, he hugged me and told me he was proud of me. He smiled that big smile… and told me he would call.
6 years of silence later, I saw him again for the first time… laying in a bed half covered and struggling for life. No one told me he had been sick, no one informed me that he had but moments to live. There are many would haves… could haves.. should haves…
there are many never dids, never weres and now.. never will be.
I never got to speak with him because he was never awake. I simply sat there that day clutching his large hands, softly stroking his falling out white hair… and wishing he would wake up and give me that huge smile… that his blue eyes like oceans would gaze at me. Every time I tried to leave that room, I couldn’t… I kept turning back. “He’s going to wake up 5 seconds after I’m gone.”… I had to be physically restrained and removed.
And he didn’t wake up.
The funeral was overwhelming. Public. And that’s when everything was learned…
How this person who was a ghost to me most of my life was so much to so many other people. How he was a superhero among his community and the communities of others. How he had helped so many other children, families and friends… how valued he was to everyone except me. Even the governor showed up.. the news… the papers.. … amongst the literal close to a thousand others who did to be washed in the media circus and the aftermath of a life that I was now finding out was actually well lived. Each with a story about him. Each with a laugh. Each with a smile.
But not me. All I had was a hastily put together book of pictures and clippings and remembrances. And even that would be taken from me.
In the end I was left with nothing… and now all these months later…
I still have nothing. And all I want is closure. And it is something that I will never have.
“….we only have what we remember…”
I returned home and immediately went into grief counseling the same day. I fired my therapist for a new one.. I became medicated,… I took advice… changed the things in my life.. my eating.. my feelings.. got a therapy dog.. I did what I was told, advised and ordered.. fired my therapist again… and so forth and so on…. and I needed some time away.
But the more time I spent away, the further I slipped into myself… the further I slipped away from you, and this, and everything important to my life. The more guilty I felt for leaving… the more overwhelmed I became by the thoughts that everyone would be angry at me.. and the longer I was gone, the more I pushed myself farther.
Sometimes a person can live with such regret for their actions that it causes them to perform them more.
I never expected any of this.
I never expected to feel the way I did. to end up how I did. to be gone so long. to be so isolated and gone. I didn’t feel worthy of having others depend on me for anything when I felt like I was nowhere near able to be dependable. My strength had been robbed.. my ability to be this strong pillar of value had gone away.
This one person in my life, who was never really in my life… affected it in such a way as to completely separate me from everything I knew and loved and my entire existence and made me question beyond reason… and I will never have the answers I need. I crave. I deserve… Yes, therapy has been going great… yes I have made many strides.. yes, I have changed in many ways… but…
Its taken a really long time to find myself here again. To even consider myself able to be here.
Things still aren’t even anywhere close to how I want them to be mentally and emotionally… and they probably never will be. Because he cannot wake up to explain this life I have endured to me… he wont wake up to give me closure.
They say that everyone grieves in their own way. I chose to make mine destructive to others by cutting the snake off at its head… I just didn’t realize how it would affect anyone in my life it until it was too late.
And then I woke up yesterday… and felt I was able to sit down… and do what I had been wanting to do for a very long time.
And then, I logged into my tumblr for the first time in 9 months…
“…Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected our bones grown together inside our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided our spines grown stronger in time because our church is made out of shipwrecks from every hull these rocks have claimed but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change so come on y'all and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach…”
I spent the better part of my day yesterday going through 2000+ messages I have received since March. The well wishes, the love, the thoughts and expressions of gratitude. the pictures, the stuffies, the hundreds of PM’s… the puppies and kitties..the boobs, the butts, the smiles, the drawings.. the socks and knee highs.. the physical exhibitionist expressions of gratitude… the hamsters and snakes and gerbils..the anons and the faithful.. . the continuing follows and questions and request for bedtime stories.. the small paragraphs from those whose lives had been utterly changed just by spending 15 minutes reading my material… those who discovered me while i was gone and had their lives changed instantly.… the fact that on a daily basis I am still getting all of these, even though I have been an apparition for the better part of almost a year…. and for the first time since March, I felt sparks of Daddy space flickering inside of me. Since March I have been totally empty and desolate.
I discovered in my submissions, asks and pm section… in the 2000+ followers gained while I was away.. People still continue to care about me.. to wonder… to keep me in their thoughts. a truly humbling feeling considering that I expected to log in for the first time since March and see nothing but disappointment from everyone. I expected people to feel like I didn’t care about them. and that is absolutely not true at all. I laughed and cried.. I felt regret… I felt guilt and shame… I felt happiness and love… my jaw hit my desk a few times.. and ultimately I figured out that I do still matter. But then I don’t really know if I do…
It all just leaves me asking for forgiveness… mainly for falling off for so long. mainly because I know the effects it had.. mainly because I feel absolutely wrecked and sick about it all.
But what comes from pain and suffering is what you create from that pain and suffering. What is left over is what you decide. Its not easy, its not simple. Believe me.. my life is anything but simple in these last 9 months… but I discovered that this lifestyle will never leave me, even if I leave it. It will always be there, because it is who I am. It is what I am. It is everything I have ever been… so should I come back? Should I… even be worthy of returning?
I guess I will wait and see… because this blog was always for you. the littles.. the daddies.. the struggling.. the hurt… the lost.. the broken and distraught. The ones just like yourself.. and just like me. And despite sometimes being a total jerk.. despite sometimes disappearing… despite all of my own problems… I always did everything I did to better the lives of others in so that they may succeed. I didn’t always achieve that goal.. and sometimes I probably even prevented it.
And I am sorry. Please… please please…. forgive me.
If I could go back to 9 months ago, tell myself then what I know now.. tell myself then how it would all turn out… and give myself that wisdom to be able to handle it all properly, then this would never have been written.
But what’s done is how it was all meant to go down really, and our mistakes are not our failures. They are our lessons. some harder learned than others. cant change the ones I have made.. I can only hope that I will be able to make them right. I edited this writing 7 times over the course of 24 hours… and something in it probably still isn’t right, or doesn’t say what it should… or… is just…. rambling. Some of you may never understand… or, maybe you do all too well. I have no room to judge or say…
“…come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever… we only have what we remember…”
… what do I do?
Do I come back?