It's Not Real!!!

Trying to stay in the present, I have family members trying to reach out to me via social media. I haven’t been a fan of social media since its inception, and I have worked online for a long time way before Zuckerberg was even in high school, before MySpace, before Orkut, and many other social media platforms. What I determined over time is that many individuals develop an overblown sense of ego because of social media. This comes from someone obtaining hundreds, thousands, even millions of “followers” with many of those followers giving “likes” to randomness. This randomness can lead a social media account holder to believe that they are God like to an extent. Often times, likes are just acts of randomness, and are meaningless, but try telling that to someone with a low sense of self esteem, or someone with a high ego. “It is not real!” (More on that comment later)

While family was trying to reach out to me, I didn’t want to talk much. In fact, nowadays, I say as little as possible. I feel so out of place where I am, a burden, and I feel the less I say the better. I guess this is the reason I can write so much here. No one knows me, no one can judge me, no one can misconstrue anything, it is just words: “It’s not real!” Or is it? Sometimes lines get crossed and things become difficult to determine as to whether or not something was misinterpretted, is it worth tackling? I politely contacted my family members to figure out if there was something they needed, or were they randomly reaching out to me. The latter.

“It isn’t real!!!” Another term that pains me. I won’t get into the details, but I wish I had listened to SD when she made that comment to me. I wish I had paid more attention when I had the opportunity, but I felt like I was sinking in a world of pain. Let me explain, if you read other articles on this blog you would know that I moved from one state to another state, I allowed things to spiral out of control because I couldn’t get my footing, I couldn’t find work fast enough, I felt as if I were a burden, I allowed stupid, meaningless thoughts infiltrate my logic. This lead to disaster. “It isn’t real!!!” As I think about things now, I think about life, and the realities of life. What is real, what will pass, what I am capable of allowing to espace into oblivion since at the end of the day, they truly have no impact on me.

SD is not only beautiful, she is smart, and one of the most compassionate people I horribly hurt, forcing her to disconnect. Whether the disconnection is temporary or not, I cannot tell, and I am trying not to keep my expectations high. I can dream, but even dreaming will lead to the potential of my world crashing down again. “It isn’t real!!!” I should have applied this to the moment I allowed my anger to turn to rage, before I blacked out. “Blacking out” I got good at that as a kid. Imagine geting beat every weekend for no reason other than your parent going overboard on alcohol. Imagine this for years, losing your children, being stepped on, all the while trying to be compassionate, and kind. I never want to hurt anyone ever, and I never want to be mean, I know, and I remember bits and pieces of things over time, where mentally I have created a method to purposely black out. Such a horrible thing to do, and I found out the hard way, time and time again.

In the last 20 years, I have blacked out a few times, mainly in the 90s. I will recall what happened when I last saw my father… I loved my father to death. He was an awesome, and smart man. I hated my father at the time, because I didn’t fully comprehend alcoholism. I hated him because he destroyed everything under the influence. He didn’t have anyone to turn to at the time, the social structure wasn’t the same as it is now. Back then, no one said anything at the person destroying his home, and abusing his family. Nowadays, social media has removed that burdern. On the one hand social media has its pros, on the other, it is creating a world of zombies that don’t know how to socialize without egos flaring. When I last saw my father, I put a baseball bat to his shins. He never walked the same again. At the time, I felt vindicated. All the pains he inflicted on me and my family were “paid back” in full. Over the years as I got older, I felt sad eventually calling my father to apologize.

What a hypocrite I have been. The same problem my father unleashed (alcoholic mayhem) found its way into my life. I drank at the wrong time, destroyed me and SD, and here I am typing about it. Destroyed, sad, yet hopeful I can rebuild. One of the bigger differences is, I made a promise to myself (not SD at the time), that - that was it. No more alcohol for me. Didn’t make sense whenever I drank anyway. I am not even sure why I drank. So here I sit, my thoughts, my keyboard, my dogs, karma, and I wish I had my mala beads, so I substitute the motions of counting beads between my fingers. Another day alive, another day to think, another day to remember “It isn’t real” the pains that I feel are self induced. My expectations, desires, and thoughts, they can all be modified at any moment making them real, or a dream.