my careless contagion

It's time, I suppose. It's time to say goodbye. Okay, it's way beyond time to say goodbye. But it's always hard to put down something you've lovingly adored for so long. So it is with the girl I loved so strongly.  I'm sorry I haven't written much lately. I am sick. Too much stress. Not enough rest. Depression. The weather. But I'll be fine (unfortunately, and if I die, I go home). Just not today.  *** My cherie amour, lovely as a summer day My cherie amour, distant as the milky way My cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore You're the only girl my heart beats for How I wish that you were mine In a cafe or sometimes on a crowded street I've been near you, but you never noticed me My cherie amour, won't you tell me how could you ignore That behind that little smile I wore How I wish that you were mine Maybe someday, you'll see my face among the crowd Maybe someday, I'll share your little distant cloud Oh, cherie amour, pretty litt...

My parents spent the last two months in Florida. Every time they come back, I'm filled with dread. It's hard to explain. Perhaps this article can speak for me.  They come back, and I try to find a place to hide. But there is nowhere to hide. I even had a dream the day after they came back that I was a fugitive and they couldn't find me. No one could find me. I simply ran away and hid.  I can't explain to most people what it was like growing up in my house. They don't have the ability to understand. And, yes, I know memories are not always to be trusted. But the feeling I get when I see someone is something I can trust. And with them, it's fear and loathing. This should not be.  As the above article states, it's best to sever all ties with narcissistic parents. They cannot change. This has become one of the biggest reasons why I don't want to live here anymore. That's sad.  There are some things other people will never understand. They...

Disclaimer: If you feel you may be triggered by discussion of childhood abuse, sexual abuse, or anything akin to that, please know these are discussed in this post. I apologize in advance for the messy way this is written. This was difficult to write. A note before I begin: It should be clear after reading this I'm not trying to garner any female's adoration. There is a stigma attached to being a victim of physical/sexual/psychological abuse (of which I experienced all), and it does not make a woman want to be with a man. So, it's fortunate there is no woman in my life with whom I can share this at the moment. This is me — alone again — walking with God, inspecting and tending to the wounds of childhood sexual abuse (CSA) as well as other childhood trauma. The timing is good for God to deal with these childhood wounds. Reading about PTSD simply led to something larger (to be discussed in a future post), and, as they say in show business, "The show must go on .....

Well, folks, I finally snapped. I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.  This recent emotional breakdown was precipitated by quite a few things, things I can't get into here, but I'm writing this because something good came of it. In short, my breakdown showed me that I also had a breakthrough . Hey, I'll take the good news any way I can get it.  In the past, I've read quite a bit about trauma bonding. A little read about this can be found here . The bulleted list at the end of the article reads like a summation of my childhood as well as workplace and romantic relationships as I got older. This article is about me. I had an unusual (possibly co-dependent relationship) with my mother, and that set the stage for bad relationships later on. My father is a cruel, condescending, and cold man who physically abused me. My oldest brother was distant and aloof. My other brother was one of the meanest motherfuckers I've ever known. Oftentimes I am trigger...

I was a boy and she was becoming a woman. She was a couple of years older (I'm guessing)  than me. Our conversation has stayed with me for 30 years. The scene was the Cosmo (short for cosmopolitans) swim team picnic, which signaled the end of the season and the last time I'd see these people until school began again. I don't recall my exact age, but it was 10, 11, or 12. Her name was Nicole, and her words still echo in my soul. I was busy running around, having fun, eating candy and being a boy. She grabbed me (literally) and took me aside. She said she knew I didn't want to hear it right now, but someday I would need to know this. She told me to be kind to girls' hearts, to not be like the other boys; don't play games with girls because that's how people get hurt. Here was a barely-a-woman telling this I-just-want-to-be-a-boy- forever how to be a man. I should have heard this from my brothers, should have seen it in my father, anyone but her. But I liste...

It's time to say goodbye to what I thought we had. I don't know if I was realistic in believing it was truly how I saw it, but it doesn't matter now. There's nothing left to do but say goodbye. I don't think I'm strong enough to do this. I don't feel strong enough to hold myself up in a chair right now. It has to be done, and I'm never going to be okay some distant someday until I let it go completely. The pain is mostly over. Now it's just me holding on to sadness, and sadness does what sadness does. We've parted ways. We've walked our separate paths now. We've seen that neither of us had what the other needed. It's so hard to miss her sometimes. And, it's the only thing I can actually feel most days. If I say goodbye to this, then I will have nothing — just a big, black hole in my chest. Still, I know this is all I will ever have if I don't let go. Letting go means I can have something someday...

I just finished reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower, a book I've been meaning to read for years. Why now? I guess because I have time, as I live alone.  There should be a trigger warning on this book; that's the first thing I think. I was triggered by the ending. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. Just like the language the character uses, it was covered up but out in the open the whole time. Sometimes what someone doesn't say says more than what they do say.  Anyone who is a victim of childhood abuse will recognize themselves in the character Charlie. The whole book is Charlie writing letters to an anonymous "friend" who he does not even know. That's the entire book; that tells the whole story. His language is permeated with childhood trauma. Again, it's not always what he says; it's what he doesn't say.  So, what are the perks of being a wallflower? As far as I can see, the book only mentions one perk, and that...