It's all Fucked up

Yesterday I ate a bowlful of triggers and broke down completely in my therapist’s office.  Sure some of it has to do with turning 60 but there were older more ancient forces at work.  I’m lazy, I’m a loser, I’m lonely, and I’m financially fragile.  I, I, I.  I am having a hard time seeing the good in my life and there is good.  I have my own home, I have a healthy son and a pretty good relationship with him.  My health is not bad, I wish I had straighter teeth. So I don’t know what was the champion of the I hate me club that brought me down so strategically.  I got a birthday card from a former girlfriend inviting me out to a dinner and I think that was what started it.  I realized that all the work that I’ve done in therapy and with my AA sponsor was all interrelated with the failings that transpired during that relationship.  The more I realized it, the greater power they started to have again in my brain.  I’m still super sensitive in temperament and I do suffer from emotional and mental damage.  This combination if stirred and baked correctly has the potential to create some serious havoc to my staged spiritual state.

I don’t have any set spiritual goals.  I don’t have a higher power other than sloth when it comes to prayer and meditation.  I don’t know what to pray for other than what to pray for.  When it comes to the listening part I just try to concentrate on my breath and not the thousand mental playgrounds that never cease to occupy my mind.  I meditated for over a year, every day and I don’t feel closer to any god or deeper connection.  Sure I’m not spazzing out for a few minutes and yes I’m grateful for that but is that it?  Is that all there is?  Is the secret just to be grateful for a minute of grace?  Is it supposed to build up to some blinding truth about the real meaning of life?  Does it stem the tide of loneliness that dodges every other minute of my waking life?  When I start to drift into melancholy over my station, does it adjust my attention so I’ll turn on the TV instead?  How can I push for sanity and peace when I’ve never had it?  How would I know what it is if it did magically descend over my consciousness?  And how long is it supposed to last?  I know I’m not the only one who has these thoughts but I’m the only one I have access to such a tortured brain.

Truth be told life is not all that cracked up into snowflakes of happiness and bliss.  Sure I’ve felt good and have experienced sublime moments.  But they’re only moments.  They don’t last long enough to get the feel of how to harness them to manufacture a life of multitudes of those moments.   Maybe it’s the alcoholic damaged part of my brain.   Where I once found refuge I now have to fight with that urge on top of everything else I seem to be challenged with.   I know getting high isn’t an answer but it sure is tempting to have the option to completely turn the twisted thought wizard off once in a while.  I have fought the fight to stay mentally stable.  I have tried to kill myself in the past as a result of too much of this landslide of crap.  I fucked up those attempts and that left even more damage in its wake.  How elastic is my brain?  When people say let it go, where do I let it go too?  It still is in my brain, in some hemisphere just lurking and moping because no attention is being paid to it.  But it’s there.  What do you do?  Build up a multitude of happy moments to eventually outweigh the pain of its existence?  I don’t know.  I think happy moments in retrospect only appear long enough to hide the pain, not heal it.

I just get through my days not live through them.   I needed guidance, direction as a child to understand the deeper meaning of satisfaction.  I was only dodging shame and guilt instead.  That’s what my DNA is. Electric shock therapy didn’t reset that part of my brain.  It sure blotted out a lot of my memory but the DNA is still there.  It has its purpose.  I’m sure part of this stress is the lack of relationship in my life.  I don’t want to burden any woman with this weight.  I’d like to try to be with a woman and see how well I can hide this wounded animal.  If there is a higher power why is it so hidden, so dug deep between so many wishes and prayers?  What are the proper desires to transcend this human 3 dimensional life and get to the actual source?  If pain is the price than I have over paid and am due.  I don’t know what to say anymore as I really don’t think there is any value in that ephemeral mystical option.   I’ve read that Buddha says life is suffering and when we accept that we start to understand.  Maybe he didn’t say it exactly like that but I have touched suffering and it is a stretch of unbearable pain that has transcended any facsimile of healing that I thought I had experienced.  It truly never leaves.  Moments are just shaded by grace but burnt into light by the darkness that defines the true nature of its presence.  Am I supposed to love my life then?  Do I love my darkness?  I truly do not know at this moment.  I will act as if it is only a bother and hopefully the fatigue of that madness won’t burn me into a crisp.