Curbed by Karma

"While Karma stood over the pavement, I was biting the curb,  sick entertainment but I but it feels good..."

For whatever it's worth, I'm not proud of who I was circa the era of events surrounding this post. I have just been enlightened as to the extent of the emotional damage I must have caused others in my wake. If you are my mom, you should just stop reading now...

It was recently suggested, that the content being expressed in this post is most likely the type of shit most people don't, won't, or can't acknowledge in themselves. Let alone talk about it honestly in the raw. The secret skeletons everyone seems to have in relationships, but won't admit it until it tears them to shreds. Not for nothing, but here it goes.

Have you ever felt like you were arguing with yourself face to face?  Not so much in the literal sense of the mentally unstable homeless man. Spending his days in Pioneer park yelling obscenities & picking up dog shit with his bare hands. Randomly tossing it like grenades at the squirrels that may or may not be running by. 

 déjà vu perhaps...

More like clashing verbally in a emotionally charged battle with another that makes you feel like you are trying to rationalize with a former version of yourself? 
A variant of self.... pre-therapy, before ever considering that recovery was an actual thing, prior to becoming a father, previous to accepting that I am not in control & actually believing in a power greater than myself. 

For me it's a daily fight not to revert, not to self-sabotage my progress, while taking the easy way out instead. The former version of myself was like water, if it was hard, I didn't go there. I took the easiest path with the least amount of resistance. The softest way possible for me... Often times at the expenses of others.

Even back then I figured that sooner or later all-knowing-all-powerful-karma would catch up with me. I wasn't sure when or where it would find me, I thought I was decent at running from the wreckage of my past until recently it belted me with a powerful upper-cut. While hunched over with both hands on my knees attempting in vain to catch my breath, between the wheezing, I heard the voices of many scorned lovers echo through the pit of my stomach "You surely didn't think you were getting away with your past actions harming so many other's unscathed, did you?"

After many long hours, turning into days of self loathing, I shouted "Why the fuck is this happening to me!!??" as I shook my fists at the great blue sky.... I had an Aha moment of comprehension.. Of course this would find me in sobriety, so I can sit with these emotions, feeling every sensation running through me while not running to find shelter in a bottle, a bag, or someones bed. If heartache is cumulative over years of not letting it affect me, then this is why I get to feel it today. Almost like this was the first time.. if you thought teenage angst was tricky, try doubling the effect with un-checked mid 30's apprehensiveness.

Although I wasn't to keen on it then, (I was barely conscious) I was a pretty shitty & self-centered person in my drinking / using days. It was all about me. What I wanted from you, whom else I also wanted at the same time, how I wanted you, when I wanted it from you & finally how I was going to cut you off when I was done with you.

 In some form or another I was out to get mine. Even when not actively using a substance, I would turn to using women (my second favorite drug.) Even though I was raised to know right from wrong, even though I love & respect my mother..... I really only trusted that didn't have anything to offer or contribute in a healthy relationship. Especially trust.

My intentions were not to hurt anyone, my intention was to have some mutual fun, escape into something new & exciting, but at the first hint of it becoming serious I would get flighty. I would conveniently  distance myself from you with working more, traveling, racing / riding my dirt bike again, or partying with friends every weekend (a.k.a. by myself) until eventually I found the next new and fun thing to dive into. It wasn't really about you as a person, but I sure a hell didn't want you to know I couldn't express my deepest feelings anything past orgasms, drunken banter, or coked up philosophical talks.

I was shut off from the world emotionally, but I didn't want my partner to be... I desired them to want me, to need me, to fall in love with me. Once I had sealed that deal, I could put them up on a dusty shelf or as a trophy on the mantle if it was a large enough conquest. Then I was off looking for the next, getting that same old high again with the thrill of the chase or being chased.

I would always do my best to conveniently miss calls, cancel upcoming plans, be vague & shady (mysterious) about my whereabouts, be out with friends, hoping that the woman I no longer desired to be with would just drop out & call things off on their own accord. If they walked away by their own choice, I could handle that easier than being upfront and honest. (It's not you, it's her) Since my intentions were to still be decent, I did everything I could (in appearance) not to be the bad guy. Going so far as to tell them I missed them from time to time, but due to our hectic schedules it was virtually impossible to line up time to actually see each other. I would keep them hanging on as my lifeline in case I needed a back up plan someday.

Occasionally, one would come along that I would start to catch strong feelings for, had a sexually charged connection with, that I mistook for intimacy. I grew attached to my perception of what we were. It felt like we fit just fucking right.. yet those seemed to be the ones I fucked up & burnt bridges with the most (because I had my own skin in the game) I would eventually continue doing what I had always done.. Then wonder why I had gotten the same results, same old feelings of shame, remorse, regret.

At my worst I had just turned 30. Perhaps I was in mourning of my twenties, thinking the party would soon end, or maybe I was just getting in my groove. In appearance I was dating a single mother, who from time to time I was serious enough to take out on dinner dates & stay over at her house overnight. To balance out this normalcy, I began sleeping with a buddies girlfriend I had known for years, I managed to impregnate an Exotic dancer whose stage name spelled out backwards was anaL, along with various random encounters. It seemed the only standard I had was a double-standard..

The shrouded truth that I was not about to share with you, or be up front about, was that I had already decided before ever hooking up with you that it was just not probable we would end up staying together. It was my self defense against building up any hopes or expectations that this would be any different than my past attempts at monogamy.

I just couldn't for the life of me figure out why I wasn't good enough for the ones I wanted to stay, to stay...  during all this time my my number one love was still cocaine. Cocaine didn't say no. Not once ever that I can recall... Cocaine never asked me where I was last night, who I was with, or why I wasn't answering my phone. Cocaine liked going to the same strip clubs & bars I did, and if I felt like staying inside on Friday night (through Tuesday afternoon) & isolate from the outside world she was always happy to oblige. Not once did I hear her complain that I wasn't enough.

 I was infatuated with her on every level & she got me completely. Everything else & everyone else were side dishes compared to her. 



........ to be continued