How do you define yourself emotionally? Is there a formula that I should know? For as far back as I can remember I’ve been so focused on keeping others around me happy and never really stopped to consider myself. I’m not kidding here….I didn’t have any musical taste at all until I was around someone who did, then I’d just like what they liked until I was around someone different. Generally’ I’d like what my partner liked. When I was with one who liked sports I’d become a sports fan, when one was into video games I became a gamer. Now, some of these things resonated with me and I carried on doing them after the partner was gone but it wasn’t often. Generally speaking, when the partner left, the personality that I had been for them left with them. My identity has always been based on someone else, starting from my earliest years.
How fucked up is that?
I took Karate lessons from age 6 to age 15 and did very well. I trained in a traditional dojo with full contact and got all the way up to my blue belt (two belts away from first dan black belt). I hated it. I hated every waking second of it. I hated the sparring, the fighting, the katas, the lunges and punches and break falls. The only thing I liked was the teeny bit of weapons training I got as a blue belt but still, I went four times a week for years. My father put me in karate, hoping to toughen me up, and I did it because he wanted me too. The fact that I didn’t like it never once entered into the equation because it simply did not matter.
D is the only person I’ve ever known who asks nothing of me. He doesn’t care if like if things he likes, in fact, he doesn’t really have many hobbies. We’re kind of like two vacant souls who come to life for our son. Sad isn’t it? I guess that’s why we get along so well.
I thought, for most of my life, that if I had love, friends and family, happiness would follow. I struggle with friends, much more so since M came and went from my life. He was impossible to satisfy and became an anchor. No matter what I gave it was never even nearly enough. I couldn’t relate to someone I couldn’t please, is what some of it boils down to. The lies, the crazy and the eventual betrayal put the final nails in that coffin, but for a large period of time all I did was strive to be enough for him.
As for family, well, you guys know how stunningly well I’ve done with anyone who has considered me family. Batting a good, solid zero on that one.
Love. Well, I’ve found a lot of different varieties, some make my skin crawl while others are welcome and, dare I say, needed. Colt is the most constant love connection i have ever had. The fact that he is dependant on me only makes that bond stronger and it allows for real, genuine, overwhelming love to blossom and grow. I’m not saying I want people to depend on me though. My time with internet connections taught me that I hate that feeling of obligation that distant friendship can bring. I don’t like having to constantly tend to friendships which is why I have no friends. I know there should be some pleasure in friendship for me but aside from you guys, I just don’t have the energy. It’s so much easier to just be the one who listens and supports than to have to engage and come up with things to share and do together. M burnt that out of me too, I think. I just can’t find it in myself to care.
So…in the end I have my disabled little boy. If I can make his life at least somewhat happy, I’ll have accomplished some sort of goal. Maybe that’s why I’m here…to carry him through. I’d be okay with that. It just seems so bleak.
I’m not depressed. Not lonely. Not even unhappy….I’m just in pain and tired from working my arse off all day. I’m kind of glad I have no one waiting for my call and that my phone hasn’t rung in years. I’m glad Colt wants to be on his own upstairs for a while and I’m glad D is late tonight. My only obligation is to feed the boy and sleep and that’s just about enough for me.
I Always think that I just don’t understand people, but really, I think I don’t understand myself. Ha. My dad used to say that he didn’t understand me all the time. Maybe he was right about some parts of me…the fucked up parts. Takes one to know one right?