Tag: Anxiety

iii. Red Cherries and Black Licorice

There’s a pretty good saying in life about the past and the future. I’ve heard it both in Alcoholics Anonymous and Buddhist philosophy. When you dwell in the past, you receive depression and when you worry about the future, you create anxiety. The idea here is to discover inner peace and live gracefully in the present moment. If only it were that easy, we would all be living blissfully. To overcome the past, you must reconcile with the parts tearing you up inside. The problem with the future is created when you’re unhappy with your past and stuck on making it all better.  This whole process of grief and healing brought me to a place where I would never want to return. I am much better off where I’m at right now than I will ever be; it’s a fact!

For me, the worst agonizing type of anxiety I have ever experienced takes place when I develop feelings of intimacy for the opposite sex. It wasn’t always like this for me, but after many tragic events broke me down into nothing, I eventually became so damaged inside that I couldn’t experience desire as it was naturally intended. I don’t wish to relive those feelings because they are downright dehumanizing, but I’ll never forget it. Some of the longest nights of my life were spent back in that place, and I used drugs and alcohol to chase them away, but when I sobered up, I got smarter about it.

I told myself I would wait until one year of sobriety before I would even consider the idea of falling for a female. I knew how absolutely fragile I was and the thought of possibly dying over it scared me. This is really a sad thing, but I cannot fall in love or even contemplate opening up emotionally without suffering absolute anguish and despair. Something that was intended to be pure and beautiful in life is simply a curse to me.

When I first took notice of this spiritual thing guiding me towards a potential love in my waking life, I grew very nervous. I remember the very first time I texted her on messenger while in class. The moment after it happened, the fear set in. I felt pressured to do so in some way so it evolved regardless of my own instincts. This is the part of the Story where I bring another from the past into the picture. Her name was Amanda and she was 9 years younger than me.

<<REWIND

I met Amanda at a 2nd shift job I had. She was a Grand Valley girl and was the first female to try and awaken my intimate side after the tragedy with my ex. There’s not really much needed to tell the story I want to tell, but it led to where I needed to be. I can still recall all the sleepless nights. I remember the agony like a knife stabbing into my neck. I lost months of sleep and the anxiety pushed me too far. She was just too young and I really hesitated a lot with her. I tried telling her I was broken, but she was persistent. Then when I finally let my guard down and opened up, it was too late. The whole thing was full of mixed messages, games and secrets. I never got any good answers from any of it.

How can I say it without saying it? That feeling nearly killed me. I still remember waking up feeling all concussed when I realized what I had done. I drank a pint of whiskey, maybe a fifth and a 12 pack of beer, then I chugged a bottle of NyQuil and went for a drive. I had nowhere to be and I was fucked up to the point of no return, and I knew it, but I just didn’t care. I took the back roads and was driving at a suicidal speed. I knew what could happen, but I didn’t care. When I woke up and discovered there wasn’t a scratch on me and saw how mangled the car was, it was like a sign from God. I still remember the dream about running from the police. The way the light bent in the dark from the headlights of the cars. It felt like the dance of immortality. The power and the strength I had, was unbelievable. Then to experience those exact same feelings in the middle of the night with K9’s and patrol cars scouting the area, well it was alarming.

Here’s the irony in it all. Two weeks before I rolled my car, I was sitting at my desk during break time at work telling Amanda about this exact dream. She gave me a very serious look and she said, “I don’t care what anyone says about this kinda stuff, but that MEANS something. You need to figure it out because someone’s trying to tell you something.”  Then a few days after our conversation, I fell asleep one night and had a dream about Amanda. I was chasing her in circles around a black truck, and she was laughing and just playing with me. Then I fell down and got hurt. A week later, she put a huge hole in my heart and I fucking totaled my car over it because I was emotionally incapable of dealing with these feelings. It was a reckless date with fate.

FAST FORWARD>>

After a short duration with the feelings I had for Jasmine, it was like reliving the hell all over again. This time though, I had no booze or pot. I was pushing towards a total relapse, but something kept me from doing that. This time was different. Jasmine straight up hated me and she told me. Other than being really nice and kinda flirty this one time, she really went out of her way to express how much she completely detested me as a person. The things she said downright fucking offended me as a person, and not to mention, she had like no hesitance in just freaking laying it on me. She didn’t even feel bad. She didn’t even really know me as a person well enough to develop the comfort to say such things in that fashion, but she did it anyway. I may have troubled myself brutally trying to figure it out, but one thing was crystal clear: she felt completely comfortable with shoving me right off a cliff. She was judge, jury and executioner. Never in my 32 years of existence have I ever received such words from a female unless her and I were already sleeping together. It fucking blew my mind.

Anyway, there is nothing in the world that could ever makeup for the entire year of sleep I lost over Jasmine Bechtel. She fucked with my head on a whole new level. I would convince myself that I loved her one day, then tell myself I hated her the next. They say that the devil is in the details of all of this. It was a pretty cunning idea to sabotage the one person that was solemnly keeping it all together for me. I was shattered into a million broken ass little pieces. After enough time with brutalizing anxiety and terrorizing episodes of manic depression, your mind just ends up breaking down. I was so fucked up on the inside, that I ended up losing my job over it. I got laid off because I couldn’t focus on anything. I couldn’t perform a simple task without forgetting what I was doing. I had people asking me constantly, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” “Brian, are you okay? Do you need to go home?”

OK. NOW PAUSE ||

Whew. Okay, now I just took a deep breath and thanked God that I’m here in the present. I will never go into the full black details of this shit stain in the confines of time simply because it makes me want to die.

The depression and the anxiety come with the setbacks regarding YOUR PATH IN LIFE. The anxiety occurs during the parts where you’re not progressing spiritually as a person, so the past just keeps haunting you as a reminder to go forth. Sometimes it feels easier just to do your own thing and tell yourself that your happy alone, but isolation is never the answer. There’s a million things that lead you astray and the further you wander off, the worse the anxiety becomes. I know because I had the anxiety over “my Princess”, for a solid year straight. It became very intrusive and interrupting of my life, and my will to commit suicide was never stronger than during this time in my life. It was like the Great Wall of China blocking my path. I was trapped and had nowhere to go.

The cure I needed to move forward was locked inside of me. Once I discovered it, I took some time to figure things out. The anxiety was still there though. Then one night I had a dream about the Grand Valley clock and it said 6:45pm. The following day, I see Jasmine at Meijer. I spend my time trying to put the pieces together, then about four days later I was pulling in to GV to go to AA, and it was like 6:30pm. I parked where I would see that clock and I just sat there. I had this text on my phone I was gonna send her and then I remembered the random fucking photos I posted on my old blog that previous weekend. I pulled up my phone, modified it a bit and pasted in my text message into the blog post. Then I heard the bells chime and I looked up at the clock and it said 6:45, so I sent the text and never looked back. I was so scared of what she might do that I literally turned my phone off for two hours.

That was 9 months ago…. and I have to say that I am fucking thankful. The anxiety fucking left me. I got a better job, and I got a raise and I’ve been doing the best work I’ve ever done. I’ve been moving forward as a person and moving towards being at peace in the moment. This all happened because I did what the dreams instructed me to do. I know for a fact if I had to go through that pitch black hellish anxiety for any more given time than I had already done, I would have just simply put a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger.

I’m fucking alive because of a spiritual intervention, dude… so if you ever feel that darkness just creep into your life when you’re down, just fucking know it’s there to challenge you. It’s there to stop you from being happy. It wants to keep you in that place you’ve been dying to escape from. And it’s pretty fucking cunning. It will do anything to try and blame the darkness on someone else other than yourself. That’s how it defeats women, but as for men, it makes us blame ourselves. Wouldn’t that have been tragic?

There’s a reaper standing in between us. It blocks our path in life. It wants us to fail. It wants us to give up and hate each other and push the blame elsewhere, but the truth is that we BOTH made mistakes. Our mistakes in life is what makes us human, and our forgiveness of our mistakes is what makes us divine. Embrace the pressure of this message because you’re gonna need it if you ever want to leap forward into the moment that’s been created solemnly for us. I won’t let anyone in the world get in between us. And if I have to pray every night and beg and plead, I will. I will do so because I keep my promises and I don’t surrender to anything but the light. I know black licorice tastes like shit but sometimes you gotta eat a shit sandwich so you know what shit tastes like, that way when you bite into a sweet little cherry, you’ll actually appreciate the blessings you’ve received in life. Then you’ll know the difference between death and life. I say this only because you rejected the one person that will unconditionally love you for the rest of your life, whether in sickness and despair, grief and sorrow, alive or dead.

 

iv. THE CURTAIN CALL

It took me a long time to write this post because I don’t really how to put something like this into words. The scope of the spiritual implications in life is risky business. We live in a world where science and religion are combative with each other and they should be coinciding with one another. They go hand in hand. Psychology and spirituality could really be the same thing if you just read between the lines. The ancients used nature to depict character and foreshadow concepts of morality in a world that is constantly changing, but yet never evolving and that’s because nature itself always remains the same.

The book of Revelation delivers an entirely pure psychoanalysis to the reader, but the reader is not fully aware of this. The symbols and actions all depict a time of turmoil and a great conflict in the world around you. That is why I read the book of Revelation about 63 different times. My apocalypse has already happened inside of my mind. I learned the scope of my limitations. I accepted my poisons in life and I threw them away. It is “Good Fruit” that the Spirit is looking for. I saw these two cherries on a cherry tree and in front of them was a hand with scissors, preparing to cut them off. A pair of cherries like this must be ripening to become desirable enough to require delicacy before they are harvested. Just think about all the time and care that has gone into this, and how the moment when they are plucked will be done and over within the twinkle of an eye. Life is precious and life is short. Don’t take any of it for granted, Jasmine. Love is the only cure for life and you are my medicine.

 

 

 

Skull Pop Savior

I freaking love these capri’s. I love wearing all pink especially after having a really bad day. My dad can be such a dick. I wonder if he ever stops and thinks about how his overbearing and dominating alcoholic driven behavior has effected me over the years. He doesn’t. Because he drinks it away. Then acts like a dick because I don’t do anything right. Total control freak. I need to move badly, but I want to have a woman’s body more. I’m saving my money for body sculpting. I’ll go post op in three stages.

  1. Tummy, waist and hips
  2. bicep reduction
  3. B cup implants

Then I’ll show my dad how he really makes me feel. Then all will be well with world. This will be great for women too because they make me feel like such a bitch, but skull pop leggings on the other hand: ❤️❤️❤️ As far as being a bitch to women, I like it. Nothing makes me get off harder than being restrained on the bed with a woman on top of me. Having the goods will only add fuel to the fiery flair of hormonal passions while indulging in hot, endless amounts of kinky sex.

As far as body sculpting, it’s completely necessary. I was looking at myself in the mirror today and I need it. Losing 80 pounds in one year ruins your body. They can effectively remove all the excess skin, which is where I plan to start. I also want a thin silicone  hip implant so I can have natural curves. This will be the best way to begin my new journey as it’s more of a subtle beginning rather than having obvious boobs or chick arms.

Three goals in life will revolve around my dad’s influence. Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but I don’t want to follow in his footsteps.

  1. Be a woman
  2. Be sober
  3. Be submissive

I apologize for the penis, but I like my penis so I want to show it off. Between Briana and Brian’s penis, I experience complete bliss when I pleasure myself. Getting off with her is the only escape I have in life. It’s sad and pathetic, but undeniably true.

I seriously wonder everyday of my life why I was dealt such a rediculous contradiction of a pointless existence. I’m a prisoner in my own body, a prisoner in my dad’s house and a prisoner on this sick and twisted, degenerated ass backwards planet called earth. Well, fuck. I just said it all.

Now wrap me up like a fucking mummy and bind my wrists and ankles with shackled anchors and toss me back into the depths of the sea. I am seriously already there, drowning and shivering my ass off while bottom feeding piranhas gnaw off the decaying flesh of my tormented soul. I am such a cynical little bitch when things don’t go my way. I should put black makeup on and cry while I let the mascara run down my face like an emotionally imbalanced teenager with daddy issues.

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