want to, just can't

want to, just can't
C

Cement

Registrant
I have so much I want to say, i have been writing pages every day, i just can't seem to get any of it out on here.

I gain strength from what I read of others similar issues...i want to tell some, but it is stuck...I guess I might be a better 'responder'who knows

I will cut and paste something that i wrote, over several days from last week, maybe someone can relate

I am so sad, I want to cry, I am crying. Things slip from my grip, oily paddles oily hands grasping and lurching to hold on as they disappear into the water..and I pulled my muscles trying to lunge for them.

I am going through hell, and every little thing, a document that takes too long to open, these thoughts that cant just BE on the page, every minor irritation is making me want to punch somemthing. I want to break things, wreck things, destroy like I have been destroyed to prove to the unbelievers that I AM...that these things DID happen, that the effects dont just go away

My mother, as much as she believes me, wants to think that I can just heal myself, and blah blah love thyself blahwell, maybe if I was taught how, I could, but I was never taught how to love myself, I was only taught how to look for it from somewhere else.
 
AND SOME MORE...remember, I am on the other side of this episode...it all turns out okay in the end! I even avoided acting out...

I tell my wife I have had a tough week, and she says, Well I hope you are going to take a break from all that stuff with your mother. I am in it, what so I do? Turn a switch? It is too fucking late, I started it, maybe that was wrong? Maybe I should have left it buried forever, never shone the light, never cast into the wind. Maybe that was the way to go. Then I could have waved that magic wand my mother was talking about, or maybe just locked down completely, and been just fine. NO, goddammit, I dealt with it, and now I am still dealing with it, because that is what the fuck I have to do. I must follow this path, I must play out this hand, I must finish the painting, I must write 'til it makes some goddamn sense, I must pound on this fing keyboard til it or my elbows break MY ARM IS CRAMpING. I AM SO ANGRY IT ISNT POSSIBLE FOR ME TO

I am so angry. It is maybe ten minutes later, and I am not tensing every muscle in my body, but if crossed, I could snap VERRRRY easilyor maybe not, maybe I can just keep it in, or laugh, or maybe I will just rollll onwho knows? I am going to do work right now

So now I have a headache and I want to go to a strip club and smoke cigarettes. It is 12:45 and I really need something food, a break, a massage something. I dont know what, if anything, I should do. Go into the feeling, I hear my therapist saying
 
AND THE NEXT DAY, FINALLY...

Have made it through and I am going to not feel bad againtook me about ten seconds to write those last few words, and they dont even make sense , do they? See how hard it is for me to love myself? I admit to a little confusion. Not quite sure what to do, really. This is one of those moments when, ordinarily, I would go and buy something. I think it is a good thing that I will not. Perhaps nice little trip with my wife might be in order?

Crisis for my assistant about copying somethingwhy am I even putting myself in the way? VERY GOOD QUESTION

I wanna wanna feel something, now that I feel a little free of the painI want to experience, because everything seems kind of boring. Here it is, this boredom. I want to read, take a walk, garden, play music, make photographic prints and sell them online...er, ugh...oaf..I am losing steam a little...well, I think I actually need something to snack or eat
 
Cement
as I slowly lost my problems I felt a void inside me, there was 31 years worth of shit in my head and as I got it out something needed to go back in.
But the mundane everyday things that I had avoided for so long didn't seem to do it, the sort of stuff a normal guy, a husband, should do somehow hadn't got the edge or excitement of my past life. However strange that sounds.
But the secrecy and deception that my life required took a lot of effort and created a bit of a rush.

Anger and frustration took over, especially at objects. I nearly kicked my welding machine to pieces one night. And the bloody computer reduced me to tears many times.
thankfully I kept it away from other people, although my boss did get some stick from time to time, but he probably deserved it ;)
I needed to shift my anger and did it, usually by thrashing something worthless, and it felt good.
I was never an easily angered person and neither am I now. But I needed my angry time, and gained great strength from it.

Eventually I replaced the emptiness with normal things, I'm heavily involved with a 4x4 club and edit the newsletter, I help a survivors charity and get involved with normal stuff with my wife.
It's a monumental effort to change from unwanted thoughts to wanted ones, and I don't believe for one minute that I have made a 100% change, maybe 80%. But it's ok because it's so much more than I had.

I hate to offer suggestions but....

I wanna wanna feel something, now that I feel a little free of the painI want to experience, because everything seems kind of boring. Here it is, this boredom. I want to read, take a walk, garden, play music, make photographic prints and sell them online...er, ugh...oaf..I am losing steam a little...well, I think I actually need something to snack or eat
Click to expand...
enjoy the anger, release it and welcome the new stuff into your life.

Lloydy
 
anger release...hmmm good suggestion...

I am also finding great comfort in writing...just even the acty of typing is soothing...however meandering, and oh, can I meander...
 
writing's good, I'm just over 90,000 words at last count ( I count them all manually - honest :D )

Lloydy
 
I agree about the benefit of writing about one's abuse. The NOMSV newsletter, Men Speak Out, welcomes submissions these personal accounts. Publishing there might extend the sense of being heard and uf sharing.
 
you're right there Murray, most of us have written pages and pages to help us through our pain, and the stories of our recovery are important in helping others.
We should send them in

Lloydy
 
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