The Path To Hell…

…is paved with good intentions.

As a youth, I wanted to break free from how I was raised -My lack of education on how to be an adult, how to live, to take care of myself. The value of loyalty and integrity. How to be a man.

What I ended up with was abandonment issues and existing in constant survival mode.

With no guidance available, I spent the first half of my life making mistakes so frequently it was as though they were hooked to one another like subway cars. It was such a common place to find myself in, I chose to embrace it as part of my character. After all, I did at least learn from them. Every lesson was hard and each one came with a price.

Live in survival mode long enough and there’s no coming back -much like an animal that goes feral. It no longer has the ability to integrate back into a social structure. Or maybe it’s that very few people have the patience to help get them back.

For so long I’ve tried to play roles I never understood. I’ve pretended to be a step-father. I’ve pretended to be a devoted boyfriend and husband. In my younger years, it was all a facade -fake it till I made it. After all, I have an unparalleled stubborn side. It was simply a matter of victory over time and attrition, right?

The woman I’m with now has sacrificed more than I could ever hope to remember or repay. She’s given freely and most of the time without compromise. I wanted her to be happy and she wished the same for me.

And yet all I do now more than ever is fail… both of us. If I am not disappointing her, I’m doing it to myself.

Not only can I not trust what I perceive as reality, but I cannot even trust my own thoughts -are they real and well founded or simply real for that moment because I have a brain injury and am reacting from an unstable point of view?

About a month ago I was living my best life because I made a choice without anyone knowing what I had done. It was an experiment. It proved successful -highly successful. The problem was that my choice would leave me vulnerable to backsliding unless my health providers got on board with what I had done… They didn’t. Now all of that is gone and here I am at the same place I was almost exactly a year ago. Asking myself what’s the point and why do I continue to pursue all this?

I’m weeks away from another surgery, which means even if I regain my positive mental condition, it’s all going to go away after the surgery as I will have to once again, go through rehab for several more weeks afterwards, which means even more pain and limited mobility added to what I already receive daily.

I’m tired of hurting from every corner of my body.
Of not being able to sleep soundly, or even in a bed.
Of waking up every day wondering what’s going to work and what isn’t.
Of not wanting to be here, but not wanting to be anywhere else.
Of feeling as though I no longer have a purpose.
Of constantly failing myself and my s/o.
Of making my s/o feel alone and unappreciated.
Of riding this fucked up psychological rollercoaster.
Of endless anxiety. Every. Single. Day.

None of my situation meshes with my personality and how I understand the way to live. Right or wrong, how can the only life I understood be taken from me so that now I have nothing? And I’m too damaged to be that guy who eagerly embraces all this change that’s been forced on me with no way to back out or alter it.

I know my s/o thinks more and more each day about asking me to find another place to live. Not only can I not blame her, I’m surprised she’s tolerated it this long. It’s common for relationships to fail after such life events as what I’ve been going through. It just wears everyone out. The injured person cannot get out of their own head and are completely unstable. Their desperation makes them make reckless choices in which both end up paying the consequences.

It blows my mind that 30 days ago, I felt like a different person. I wanted to dedicate my remaining time on Earth to being a better person for myself and everyone in my life.

Today, I am confident that all I would do is fuck up in the end and do more harm than help -because that’s what I consistently do best.

Maybe I do need to be alone. It would surely make some choices easier than they are today.

I hate this.