Category : Books-Non-Fiction

Sub Category : Biography

My head rested on the edge of the bed. I sat there on the floor in between it and the wall. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and the lump in my throat was growing. About a block away the sound of a vehicle approaching was becoming apparent to me. I immediately popped my head up as soon as i heard the sound. Next i jumped from my cozy spot on the floor, raced out of the back bedroom, down the hallway, and into the livingroom. I arrived to the window and pulled back the curtains just in time to see the headlights vanishing off towards the end of the street. My gut dropped. The lump came back to my throat. My stomach sank. Tears streamed down my face and dropped off my chin and the tip of my nose, falling to the floor. I died inside just as i had each time this happenned. Id lost count of how many times i had done this since he left the last time.
     To keep my mind occupied away from obsessing over his absense was a task i didnt feel fit for. In between rushing back and forth from the bedroom and livingroom window I would scrub and sweep up spots id already cleaned. I would wait with loyalty embraced tightly to my spine, wrapped and entertwined with my soul. My ears would perk up and i would hold my breath to listen to every noise from outside and every vehicles motor pumping as they drove by. And the same thing remained true that with every time i thought it was, it wasnt. It wasnt him. Even when it was him, it wasnt actually him. I didnt know this person who rushed in and out through this door as quick as he could. I didnt know this person who treated me with such an extreme amount of anomosity one would think we were strangers, enemys even. That was patly true at this point. I didnt know this hustler whose baby was growing bigger every day inside of me. This guy was not who i origionally accepted as my lover and companion. I had know clue where that person dissappeared to. I looked for him to appear magically everytime i saw this nobody who had replaced him. I was hopeful that someday this guy who replaced my man would get tired. I hoped he would get tired and let my man sneak back into his own skin. Even if it were only for a small moment in time. I hoped that he would look at me and realize i was who he was meant to be with and not a single thing was worth deserting me again. I hoped so hard it felt as if i was wishing upon a star. Pipe dreams.
   Leon and i had been together for almost a year now. Currently we spent more time apart then under the same roof. Hed been gone four days this time. I swear id lost my damn mind after the first night. I felt awkward and out of place without him around. I started doing things to keep myself safe while he was away. Little things. Like, Id keep the lights inside the house off at all hours of the night and put bright lights pointing towards the yard outside every window so i could see out and no one could see in.  I kept the bathroom door open when i showered and kept my showers brief, sometimes ending with me racing quickly into the hallway to see if he had come home. I kept a bat by the door and most of the time there was something i could use in a fight held within my hands as a type of comfort blanket.
Glenwood. It was a creepy place to be especially at night. I wasnt sure if it was my mind failing me or the town itself getting worse. I kept hearing whispers and noises in the backyard and through the heater vents. Coming from the roof and also down below me. Sometimes I thought leon was there with his friends and he wasnt telling me because he didnt want to see me. Because he was ashamed of me. I also sometimes thought the neighbors were going to try and physically remove me from the home because i was keeping Leon away. Everyone knew Leon had tried to pay the landlord but she refused because it wasnt even us who had signed the lease. Leon had a friend who he worked with, jason, who let us move in. When the landlord kicked him out over it- we stayed because we were not on the eviction notice. The landlord had to re-evict us. She was definately working on it.
   For what it was worth, i didnt really want to be there anymore anyways. If Leon didnt leave me there for days at a time, if he answered his phone when i called or replied to my text messages... Then maybe it would be different. But it wasn't. I downloaded a call recorder app on my phone so i could listen to the phone calls we seldom had anymore along with the random pocket dials. I thought maybe i could find something in the heated arguments and inaudable pocketdial murmers that would provide me some answers or relief from the pain. They didnt do that tho. There is no comfort within angry and disgruntled conversations. So i would cry. I would cry so hard, scream so loud, and beat on my pillow till i could finally fall asleep without him next to me. Then I would sleep stiffly, waking up to any sound that reached past my eardrums and into my dreams. I would find myself restlestly tossing and turning. I was having nightmares again. Stuck laying there half asleep i would attempt to embrace what good memories i had of us. They were what i held onto to keep me going. The i love yous served as a trampoline for my urges. I had many thoughts that i should just go somewhere else far far away. My urges to disappear from this burdenned reality would come and go frequently, bouncing in- bouncing out. What if he loves me still? What if i leave and he comes back? But we were a decent couple- he loves me so much. I know because of how this happenned one time. Blaa blaa blaa.
   Eventually i ended up admitting myself into the psych ward. I told them they'd better admit me because id already written goodbye letters to everyone i cared for. They stripped me down and put me in an all too familiar padded room. I couldnt stop crying. I knew i didnt have to actually kill myself to be dead. For i was already dying. I felt so damn empty inside. I couldnt get the tears to stop. I needed a moral boost. I needed to clear my head. They told me they werent going to admit me after only two short hours. Id overheard them outside the room talking about how i was here for the same issues as befor - mommy doesnt love me daddy doesnt care. I knew they were going to let me go when i heard them talking. I resented the system and thought to myself as i was leaving that if i died that night it would be on their hands. That was good enough for me to leave with a small shred of pride.
   Happiness is a point on the ladder of emotions which is hard to reach without making a serious effort. There's so many crappy emotions and tough experiences you have to climb past when travelling towards it. Theres so many factors that contribute to the journey. Its like a video game for me. Whereas, i have to make several attempts befor i can beat a level and im always seeking the win, happiness. Ive never reached the top of the latter. Well, i thought i did once or twice when i got super high. But it wasnt real happiness. It was happiness patronizing me. Yes. It still sat at the top looking down at me deeply while i was just laying there at the bottom. I met it eye to eye, saw it entirely as a whole, i thought. But all the while, it was actually just laughing in my face. And in the end It was just a silly daydream. I am starting to wonder if it were easier to reach then maybe it wouldnt be as exciting when you finally arrived there. Maybe without the pain and turmoil it wouldnt even be what it is. Maybe, after all our whining and complaining over what we have or are going thru in our lifes, that its become a necessary boundry of the good. This would conclude that happiness doesnt exist without the latter of pain you have to climb to get to it. That would mean It would turn out to be just another moment in your day without the contrast of its opposite. How much contrast must there be however, in order to create this so called happiness? Does happiness really even exist? Can anyone even say they've reached the top?
   For me, the closest i get to happiness is during in the first couple months after getting clean. Everything is brand new to me when i first sober up and i am consumed by overwhelming feelings of gratitude and zealouseness for small, simple things. Its as if im at such a low when im using that when the contributing factor to my troubles (mainly drugs) go away ,normal things that to most others are mundane and boring then become full of elation and excitement. Normal has become happiness. And it wouldnt be happiness if i hadnt teatered on the edge for a bit looking my demons in the face.
   Sometimes i am sure that men are a big reason for me being so far away from happiness. Most of the time tho, i forget. I look to them to grant me peace within my miserable existance. Its only worked at first in every relationship ive had so far. Eventually i end up demanding an intoxicating relationship of emeshment and i push them away with the pressure i put on them. I become addicted to the happiness they provide me. My  tolerence levels to it increase quickly. I get bored. I get irritated. Then i flip and demand that things get better, putting too much expectations on whoever it is im dating.
   Finding a boyfriend isnt hard for me to do. Usually they find me actually. There have been only a couple times i actually sought out guys. Three times to be exact. To be more exact, only one of those three times was i at a point in my adulthood where i was not confusing friendship and seperation anxiety with love. And i only pushed the idea of being with him once him and i broke up. I was devestated. I thought i needed this piece of shit to be happy despite having only been happy a month out of the whole time i knew him and was dating him. Im currently in hate with him tho as he turned out to be a satiricle excuse of a man to me. Crossing lines in my mind that connected both reality and pipe dreams together. I believed in him and he abused that by making sure that nothing he told me was the truth. And it was an excruciating pain i would be hesitant to ignore if ever in the proximaty of his existance ever again. 
   I space off constantly. I look into the direction of nothing and i blank out of my present reality and into my past memories or into my thoughts around current situations. I tell myself "i fuckin hate my life". I tell myself "i just want to die". These intrusive thoughts are damaging to my mental state of wellbeing. They tear me down. The more i hear them the more they speak up. They dont ever stop. I dont try anymore to block them out. I just conclude that my life is a mess and needs fixing. If i were content and happy then these thoughts wouldnt bear down on me like they do. 
Its a huge goal to acheive ultimate happiness. Its like using cause you are on a quest for the ultimate high. That high being rich and beautiful. Where you feel no social anxiety and you dont do stupid shit. You dont trip out, you never feel weak inside, your body never hurts and you dont ever come down. That high is never obtainable tho. You can reach a point where its the thickest creamiest faucaud ever and you think- oh man- im so high everything feels right! This isnt gonna hurt. How could a feeling like this ever hurt? Then you come down. And you realize it wasnt real. Nothings real. You feel the oposite feeling to the ones you origionally felt and now everything is wrong. Fucked up. Happiness vs. The High. And Misery vs the comedown. Were you ever really high? Were you ever really happy?