G
Guest
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Before anyone asks, this isn't a pity post or a cry for help...just curious. It's kind of a continuing saga
PJ
"A tear is the body’s way of knowing a small part of the soul has died...if only I could cry and know my soul survives."
My path of anti-love started in my early childhood.
My father was a foster parent who showered gifts on the wretches of humanity, while showering me with mental abuse. Meanwhile the juvenile delinquents poured physical abuse on me…. several times even attempted to murder me. And no one cared.
My father showed me then that I was not worthy of his love, and continued to demonstrate this, as I grew older.
My mother left my father when I was 8, and left me to the abuse and anger of that household. I often watched my foster brothers and adopted brothers destroy my household and personal property. They killed my animals and abused me…even tried to kill my father a few times.
Yet in spite of all this, my father still gave them everything they ever wanted and more….and still treated me like a third class citizen in his house.
I do not blame my father [or mother] for this. I forgave them a long time ago. I merely mention this to set the stage for a life that does not include love.
Yet still I believed I was worthy of being loved and capable of loving. I liked girls and they seemed to like me. I was popular in school, made decent grades and performed very well in athletics.
Then at age 13, I was shot in the head with a 45-caliber pistol, leaving me with a broken shattered body and tremendous amounts of depression. I thought if no one loved me before, how could anyone possibly love me now that I was physically ugly.
I was wrong. The local community, the nation, and hell even my dad poured out love to me, and I even started to believe I was worthy of being loved. That is until the novelty wore off, and then it was back to being human garbage ~ a useless oxygen intake system that no one wanted or would claim.
After I started back to school [still barely able to walk], I met a girl named Kim. I was totally infatuated with Kim, and showered her with every ounce of affection I had in me. As you guessed, she only wanted to be friends…thus reinforcing my belief that I was not good enough to be loved.
High school went much the same way, becoming infatuated with people that could only see that I walked with a limp and didn’t want to be seen with me.
After I graduated, I traveled down a path of alcohol, drugs and escapism that led to frequent sexual encounters that, as all my sexual encounters have been, were either one night stands or extended one night stands…and always with the wrong women.
This lasted up until I met Jennifer, a model for body glove, and truly one of the most beautiful women physically I have ever met. I was 22 and met her at a local punk rock bar on sink or swim night, and I guess we were both a little too drunk, but it led to a whirlwind romance and me proposing to her. We talked of raising kids and spending an eternity together. I really thought my luck had changed. That is until we were talking on the phone about getting married and having kids. Two weeks later she was living with another guy.
But the torture of losing her and knowing I was not worthy of her love was not enough for her. She had to call me three to five times a day to tell me she still loved me and no one ever treated her better than I did.
After Jennifer, my fear of intimacy and lack of trust increased tenfold, but that didn’t stop me from becoming a sex addict who could never get enough. At first the sex made me feel good…made me feel loved. But later, every time I had sex, I realized I was never going to see this person again and that they too would never…could never, care about me.
This cycle continued on until about three years ago when I first discovered internet bulletin boards. I had broken my back twice in the previous five years, and I was working through the pain and the depression caused by the pain.
I’m not sure if I seemed emotionally bankrupt from all the pain killers and anti-depressants I was on, or if I just felt so alone that I was reaching out to anybody who wanted to talk, but this period of time became like a revolving door of women with questionable intelligence, morals and agendas. Some of them never came back, but most came back for more. That was the problem, my door always seemed open to anyone.
I met Val at one board I frequented. She was my perfect half and showered me with more love than I thought I could ever use or deserve.
However, things turned bad when I started finding things out about her that I knew were true, but I did not want to believe. She was always accusing me of being with other women, and being an overzealous flirt. The truth was she was accusing me of those things, because that is exactly what she was doing.
While Val and I continued arguing over who was doing whom wrong and who loved whom more ~ I know it's stupid to have that conversation with someone you never met ~ I met another girl, Chella, in a chat-room. Chella felt much the same way as I did about love, and we flirted a lot and grew pretty close.
When her mother died, I sent her e-cards and emails to help her through that rough time, and that endeared me to her and we grew closer.
Well, Val came back to me and even though she was engaged to marry another guy [who she was talking about marrying the whole time she and I were talking about love and possible marriage.] She told me even though she fully intended on marrying the other guy, she wanted me in her life as well. I told her she was fucking nuts.
.
Well Chella and Val became friends on the bulletin board during the period of time where CHella and I were having major problems in our relationship [due mostly to my wandering eye and need for instant gratification. I have always seemed to put symbolism over substance in my life.]
Chella kept pushing Val on me; trying to get us to be friends again. That’s right, I fell hardcore for Val all over again and honestly believed she wouldn’t marry the other guy [what an ass I am huh?]. It seemed that since we were not concentrating so much on being in love, we grew closer and closer.
I started a book of poetry for her [that I later scrapped]. I just did not want to believe I was being played for her selfish, emotional needs.
Anyways CHella flipped out that I would go back to Val after the tumultuous relationship we had had previously. We started arguing every day.
She even started stalking herself, and lied about me, telling mutual friends and acquaintances that she had a federal restraining order against me [I was never taken to court or served any paperwork] and that police profilers told her I was one of the most deranged, psychotic individuals they had ever come across, and that she had to move out of state for fear of her life.
But what really hurt me was all the friends we shared turned against me and called me psycho and monster and went out of their way to hurt me emotionally at a time when I was already hurting emotionally. It’s not bad enough that I don’t deserve romantic love, but now I didn’t even qualify for platonic love. My fear of trust and intimacy were at all-time highs now.
Well in spite of knowing that Val was the worst possible person for me to turn to for support, I did it a third time, which drove Chella to an all-new frenzy to get everyone on the planet to hate me.
She sent Val emails about things I was and was not supposedly doing, and even recruited my friends into teaming up against me to split Val and I apart [which worked very well] which, in hind-sight was actually a pretty good thing.
So, I decided it was time to move on, and that I did. I found an old female friend who I had a lot of history with, and she helped me pick up the pieces of my self esteem and confidence, and we spent a lot of time together. I helped her after a breakup of a nine-year relationship and helped her take care of her children. I didn’t think things could get any better. I moved in with her and the kids, and felt so safe and secure. I had truly found happiness. It was not romantic love with a future of true commitment, but it was a strong bond and something very special to me. She told me once that she couldn't think of anyone she would rather have help her raise her kids, even to the point of saying if anything happened to her, she would rather I raised her kids than her ex.
I still had some issues with trust and feeling that I was good enough for her, but she constantly reassured me I was good enough and that I could trust her. I even brought her into my online life and let her join in on my online community. Life was starting to become complete. I had a "girl-next-door" type who treated me well, and I had a family of my own for the first time.
But as always, I am unworthy of love and loving. One minute I was ecstatically happy, the next I was packing and moving, and her abusive ex was back in her life. I looked at her with a tear in my eye as I left, saying:
"You know it's not going to work, and I'm not going to be able to help you next time."
She said, "I know," and I left. Even wife beaters deserve love more than I do apparently.
After I moved out, I started talking to my longtime friend Jess, and Jess and I started feeling closer than we probably should have. We’d always been there for each other as friends. And like the saying goes, the best relationships start off as friendships, and that was very true for a while. But being as I had major issues of trust obviously, and she was dealing with her own problems, the fabric that wove our relationship so tightly together began to unravel. It didn’t help that her mother [who I also had a tryst with] hated my guts and did anything and everything to pull Jess in another direction. Jess took the ball from her and ran as fast as she could away from me, even though we had been there for each other for years, and that I was the one who helped her towards some sort of emotional balance when she had been beaten and raped. Her mom didn't even believe that she had been raped, but now her mom's opinion mattered more than mine. Her mom loved me to death at first for helping Jess get through the rough times, but I hurt Jess' feelings and now I was the antichrist
It’s killing me now, I didn’t just lose someone that could’ve been Ms. Right, I lost my friend that I talked to daily…someone who confided all of her secrets to me as I confided mine to her.
In your lifetime, you may only meet two people who you could tell everything that has ever happened to you and everything you’ve ever done, and still have them like you.
I have no bad feelings towards Jess. In the beginning she told me she was no good for me, and I didn’t listen. But when I said I wasn’t good enough for her, she said I was, and I listened…so in the end, the fault is mine for being stupid enough to try. I knew better, but I was in love with the idea of being in love with her, and that is the only love I've ever known.
Now, 5 back surgeries later, I’m still in a lot of physical pain, and wondering why I feel like I’m just sitting alone behind a computer, waiting to die.
I’ve met two new women since then; one here in Tampa, and one on the internet, and I’m just thinking…
“Is it worth it?
Is all this bullshit we go through day in and day out for some dreamt-up super Shangri-LA called "LOVE" really worth it?”
I don’t think so. Driver stop the car…I wanna get out
I am now happy in the hatred of my own soul. I am accepting in the fact that no one can ever…will ever love me.
I am anti-love. Just accept me as I am, and I promise not to care that you do not care.
And beyond that, I don’t think I could ever say “I love you,” to someone and mean it.
In order for me to mean it, I would have to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they loved me, and I can’t…I won’t ever believe that again.
PJ
"A tear is the body’s way of knowing a small part of the soul has died...if only I could cry and know my soul survives."
My path of anti-love started in my early childhood.
My father was a foster parent who showered gifts on the wretches of humanity, while showering me with mental abuse. Meanwhile the juvenile delinquents poured physical abuse on me…. several times even attempted to murder me. And no one cared.
My father showed me then that I was not worthy of his love, and continued to demonstrate this, as I grew older.
My mother left my father when I was 8, and left me to the abuse and anger of that household. I often watched my foster brothers and adopted brothers destroy my household and personal property. They killed my animals and abused me…even tried to kill my father a few times.
Yet in spite of all this, my father still gave them everything they ever wanted and more….and still treated me like a third class citizen in his house.
I do not blame my father [or mother] for this. I forgave them a long time ago. I merely mention this to set the stage for a life that does not include love.
Yet still I believed I was worthy of being loved and capable of loving. I liked girls and they seemed to like me. I was popular in school, made decent grades and performed very well in athletics.
Then at age 13, I was shot in the head with a 45-caliber pistol, leaving me with a broken shattered body and tremendous amounts of depression. I thought if no one loved me before, how could anyone possibly love me now that I was physically ugly.
I was wrong. The local community, the nation, and hell even my dad poured out love to me, and I even started to believe I was worthy of being loved. That is until the novelty wore off, and then it was back to being human garbage ~ a useless oxygen intake system that no one wanted or would claim.
After I started back to school [still barely able to walk], I met a girl named Kim. I was totally infatuated with Kim, and showered her with every ounce of affection I had in me. As you guessed, she only wanted to be friends…thus reinforcing my belief that I was not good enough to be loved.
High school went much the same way, becoming infatuated with people that could only see that I walked with a limp and didn’t want to be seen with me.
After I graduated, I traveled down a path of alcohol, drugs and escapism that led to frequent sexual encounters that, as all my sexual encounters have been, were either one night stands or extended one night stands…and always with the wrong women.
This lasted up until I met Jennifer, a model for body glove, and truly one of the most beautiful women physically I have ever met. I was 22 and met her at a local punk rock bar on sink or swim night, and I guess we were both a little too drunk, but it led to a whirlwind romance and me proposing to her. We talked of raising kids and spending an eternity together. I really thought my luck had changed. That is until we were talking on the phone about getting married and having kids. Two weeks later she was living with another guy.
But the torture of losing her and knowing I was not worthy of her love was not enough for her. She had to call me three to five times a day to tell me she still loved me and no one ever treated her better than I did.
After Jennifer, my fear of intimacy and lack of trust increased tenfold, but that didn’t stop me from becoming a sex addict who could never get enough. At first the sex made me feel good…made me feel loved. But later, every time I had sex, I realized I was never going to see this person again and that they too would never…could never, care about me.
This cycle continued on until about three years ago when I first discovered internet bulletin boards. I had broken my back twice in the previous five years, and I was working through the pain and the depression caused by the pain.
I’m not sure if I seemed emotionally bankrupt from all the pain killers and anti-depressants I was on, or if I just felt so alone that I was reaching out to anybody who wanted to talk, but this period of time became like a revolving door of women with questionable intelligence, morals and agendas. Some of them never came back, but most came back for more. That was the problem, my door always seemed open to anyone.
I met Val at one board I frequented. She was my perfect half and showered me with more love than I thought I could ever use or deserve.
However, things turned bad when I started finding things out about her that I knew were true, but I did not want to believe. She was always accusing me of being with other women, and being an overzealous flirt. The truth was she was accusing me of those things, because that is exactly what she was doing.
While Val and I continued arguing over who was doing whom wrong and who loved whom more ~ I know it's stupid to have that conversation with someone you never met ~ I met another girl, Chella, in a chat-room. Chella felt much the same way as I did about love, and we flirted a lot and grew pretty close.
When her mother died, I sent her e-cards and emails to help her through that rough time, and that endeared me to her and we grew closer.
Well, Val came back to me and even though she was engaged to marry another guy [who she was talking about marrying the whole time she and I were talking about love and possible marriage.] She told me even though she fully intended on marrying the other guy, she wanted me in her life as well. I told her she was fucking nuts.
.
Well Chella and Val became friends on the bulletin board during the period of time where CHella and I were having major problems in our relationship [due mostly to my wandering eye and need for instant gratification. I have always seemed to put symbolism over substance in my life.]
Chella kept pushing Val on me; trying to get us to be friends again. That’s right, I fell hardcore for Val all over again and honestly believed she wouldn’t marry the other guy [what an ass I am huh?]. It seemed that since we were not concentrating so much on being in love, we grew closer and closer.
I started a book of poetry for her [that I later scrapped]. I just did not want to believe I was being played for her selfish, emotional needs.
Anyways CHella flipped out that I would go back to Val after the tumultuous relationship we had had previously. We started arguing every day.
She even started stalking herself, and lied about me, telling mutual friends and acquaintances that she had a federal restraining order against me [I was never taken to court or served any paperwork] and that police profilers told her I was one of the most deranged, psychotic individuals they had ever come across, and that she had to move out of state for fear of her life.
But what really hurt me was all the friends we shared turned against me and called me psycho and monster and went out of their way to hurt me emotionally at a time when I was already hurting emotionally. It’s not bad enough that I don’t deserve romantic love, but now I didn’t even qualify for platonic love. My fear of trust and intimacy were at all-time highs now.
Well in spite of knowing that Val was the worst possible person for me to turn to for support, I did it a third time, which drove Chella to an all-new frenzy to get everyone on the planet to hate me.
She sent Val emails about things I was and was not supposedly doing, and even recruited my friends into teaming up against me to split Val and I apart [which worked very well] which, in hind-sight was actually a pretty good thing.
So, I decided it was time to move on, and that I did. I found an old female friend who I had a lot of history with, and she helped me pick up the pieces of my self esteem and confidence, and we spent a lot of time together. I helped her after a breakup of a nine-year relationship and helped her take care of her children. I didn’t think things could get any better. I moved in with her and the kids, and felt so safe and secure. I had truly found happiness. It was not romantic love with a future of true commitment, but it was a strong bond and something very special to me. She told me once that she couldn't think of anyone she would rather have help her raise her kids, even to the point of saying if anything happened to her, she would rather I raised her kids than her ex.
I still had some issues with trust and feeling that I was good enough for her, but she constantly reassured me I was good enough and that I could trust her. I even brought her into my online life and let her join in on my online community. Life was starting to become complete. I had a "girl-next-door" type who treated me well, and I had a family of my own for the first time.
But as always, I am unworthy of love and loving. One minute I was ecstatically happy, the next I was packing and moving, and her abusive ex was back in her life. I looked at her with a tear in my eye as I left, saying:
"You know it's not going to work, and I'm not going to be able to help you next time."
She said, "I know," and I left. Even wife beaters deserve love more than I do apparently.
After I moved out, I started talking to my longtime friend Jess, and Jess and I started feeling closer than we probably should have. We’d always been there for each other as friends. And like the saying goes, the best relationships start off as friendships, and that was very true for a while. But being as I had major issues of trust obviously, and she was dealing with her own problems, the fabric that wove our relationship so tightly together began to unravel. It didn’t help that her mother [who I also had a tryst with] hated my guts and did anything and everything to pull Jess in another direction. Jess took the ball from her and ran as fast as she could away from me, even though we had been there for each other for years, and that I was the one who helped her towards some sort of emotional balance when she had been beaten and raped. Her mom didn't even believe that she had been raped, but now her mom's opinion mattered more than mine. Her mom loved me to death at first for helping Jess get through the rough times, but I hurt Jess' feelings and now I was the antichrist
It’s killing me now, I didn’t just lose someone that could’ve been Ms. Right, I lost my friend that I talked to daily…someone who confided all of her secrets to me as I confided mine to her.
In your lifetime, you may only meet two people who you could tell everything that has ever happened to you and everything you’ve ever done, and still have them like you.
I have no bad feelings towards Jess. In the beginning she told me she was no good for me, and I didn’t listen. But when I said I wasn’t good enough for her, she said I was, and I listened…so in the end, the fault is mine for being stupid enough to try. I knew better, but I was in love with the idea of being in love with her, and that is the only love I've ever known.
Now, 5 back surgeries later, I’m still in a lot of physical pain, and wondering why I feel like I’m just sitting alone behind a computer, waiting to die.
I’ve met two new women since then; one here in Tampa, and one on the internet, and I’m just thinking…
“Is it worth it?
Is all this bullshit we go through day in and day out for some dreamt-up super Shangri-LA called "LOVE" really worth it?”
I don’t think so. Driver stop the car…I wanna get out
I am now happy in the hatred of my own soul. I am accepting in the fact that no one can ever…will ever love me.
I am anti-love. Just accept me as I am, and I promise not to care that you do not care.
And beyond that, I don’t think I could ever say “I love you,” to someone and mean it.
In order for me to mean it, I would have to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they loved me, and I can’t…I won’t ever believe that again.
