theshamelesswanderer

The Musings of My Mind

Category: Body Dysmorphia

11.5.2015

When does the void go away? When does the emptiness stop catching up to you, preventing you from finding what you’re looking for? And speaking of, what exactly are you looking for? I’m tired of these questions, I’m tired of the lack of answers, and I’m tired of the uncertainty. I feel like I’m surrounded by people who just get ‘it’, and for the life of me, I’ll never understand why I’m not one of them. I sound like I’m victimizing myself. I sound like I need to get the fuck up and do something and it’s not that I don’t want to, but what do I get up and do? Where do I go? I hate how this sounds. I hate pathetic and miserable I sound, and most days, I don’t feel pathetic and miserable, but today is one of those days when I do. Today is one of those days when I think about what I’ve done with my life and realize that I haven’t done anything. I think I keep trying to fill my life up with things that I think will give it meaning, but once I’m into it, I realize that it’s emptiness. Again. I have this thing that I can do and I know I can do it well, but what else? How can it reach people, how can it reach me? How can I take this thing I love and un-complicate it so that I can blow up my whole world? In a way that I’m comfortable, of course.

I recently went out and participated in a video shoot with some friends and my role in the video was to kind of direct the communication. Once it actually started happening and we’re in the midst of it, there was pretty much no need for me. It made me realize that anyone can talk to people, anyone can get other to open up, and anyone can do this. What the fuck makes me so special? What makes my work so special that people need to stop and pay attention to it? I had to ask myself some hard questions and I don’t think it really hit me until today. I want to do all these things and I don’t know how to start. I don’t know why I’m here, and as much as I want to find out, I kind of wish I wasn’t being put up to the task at all. As the years go by, I’m realizing that I’ll always be trapped in this state of confusion. Well, maybe not always, but I will for a while. I’m 22 and I act like my life will be over in three years and I can’t stop myself from doing this, being this frantic and fear-filled person. It sucks. I can’t help it. I envy all of you who grab life by the balls and just go for it. I envy those who just know. I hope I become that person one day. I hope I stop disappointing myself and my words. The solution is simple, I’m sure. But it isn’t and it’s a mind fuck and it’s been running me into the ground for years. In a good way, though. Kind of. In the bigger picture, I don’t know what I want to do.

I know I want to write, but I want to do more and be more for all the poor people out there who continue to let life score. Whose motivation hits the floor when they feel like they’re continuously running into a big, black door labeled ‘MORE’, and they simply can’t get in. The combination never worked before, so why keep trying or hoping that something better is in store? Why get up in the morning when all you’ll ever feel is deep sorrow in your core? The answers aren’t written in a book, they’re hidden behind big, black doors with unknown combinations that will never be recovered or restored.

Goodnight.

Once More For the Road

I did it again.

A very long time ago, I promised myself that I would have nothing to do with you. I swore to every god in our overrated existence that I would never even mention your name. Yet, today, I did it again. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to rekindle our connection. I found every excuse as to why I should do it, but couldn’t think of one con against all the pros I’d created. In my dimwitted haste, I never once grazed past the idea that you would destroy me the same way you did all those years ago.

As I allowed myself to get on that perilous carousel of yours, I found myself feeling this rush. It was thrilling. Adrenaline coursed the blood in my veins, and yet all at once, it stopped the flow, stopped the circulation out of pure excitement. What pains me is that I don’t regret it. I’d be lying if I said I wish I’d never done it because while it was happening, I couldn’t help but think of how I could implement you into my daily life again. I couldn’t stop myself from feeling like I’d been missing out on something. As toxic as you are, I sit here and still, not a bone in my body feels the slightest bit of remorse. In fact, all I can feel is the acid burning the back of my throat. A familiarly disconcerting feeling, but comforting in all the right ways.

I’m conflicted because I’m trying to convince myself that it was a one-time only kind of thing, but we both know it wasn’t. Perhaps the most alarming thing of our brief, but tantalizing affair was my readiness. Before I decided to give myself up to you, I felt the long time addiction rising up from my throat. Shortly after, I watched as it poured out of mouth, right into yours, and I simply just could not stop. At one point, when I began to get really comfortable in my old dancing shoes, I found myself unable to hold back. The word ‘yes’ kept popping up in my head, and it just felt so right. My pace quickened and all I could think was, “more, more, more,” and “alright, just one more second,” but minutes followed that last second.

Looking into the mirror afterwards, I wish I could say I felt some kind of embarrassment. I’d love to admit to having been mortified and ashamed, but all I did was splash water on my face and into my mouth in hopes that it would cleanse me and rid me of my sins, rid the taste of our lovechild out of my mouth. Then, I flushed the toilet and never looked back. Sadly, I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ve replayed my psychotic break over and over in my head, I can’t stop seeing myself jamming my finger down my throat while the little voice in my head egged me on.

I couldn’t stop, nor did I want to.

I hope I don’t see you again anytime soon, but now that I’ve flipped back to our chapter, I’m afraid we’ll be meeting again sooner than later.