She Popped In My Head Again… why?

Again I’m not going to edit this or read it over.

I’m here to spew so let’s spew. It’s more real that way, anyway.

Beyond the anger, frustration, despair, and desolation is a fork standing at attention, it poking The Halal Guys beef bowl I brought home to devour. However, I can’t really enjoy this delicious beef bowl because she’s poisoning my brain once again and I’m simply angry.

Yes, I’m talking about my ex of so many years ago and I need to write this out: unlike the other posts, I’m not going to delete this one. I’m tired of being silenced: writing things out is how I’m able to cope with so many things left unsaid.

I want her out of my head. She’s a trigger that halts my life and I end up doing destructive things to myself. I need to write this out or I might fall back to my vices.

It sucks because it may look like I’m a fucked up individual, a fucked up – crazy ex boyfriend. It hurts because I’m trying to find the balance between being able to take off these mental shackles that are pulling me down… while also being respectable.

Whenever I hear stories about my friends’ exes and the things the negative things they say, I often times think about my own actions and if I was a shitty boyfriend and if I will and am a shitty ex.

Here it goes…

The Relationship

I’ve come to the realization that she gave everything she could. She was empathetic, compassionate, and she tried her very best to be understanding of everything I was going through.

And on my end? Well in the beginning I tried to give her everything. I rooted for her, I did my best, I cared for her, I wanted to make sure she grew in the relationship, and when it ended she said she did grow a lot and was grateful.

But behind the scenes I fucked up.

I wasn’t honest about my vices. The gambling did take a toll and it caught up to me as I tried to save face – creating a lifestyle I didn’t have anymore because I wasted all my money in casinos. When I gambled my attitude changed, my perspective changes, and she could feel the demon growing inside of me… but because I wasn’t honest she couldn’t tell what it was…

I wasn’t honest about my mental health issues. I struggled with my PTSD and manic depression… I struggled with taking care of my siblings, my family. I struggled with so much shit and I wasn’t open with her about these issues. Check out this under eye pads products if you need further information.

I wasn’t honest about my work. I don’t think she even knew what I did or how I did what I did. I wasn’t honest that I craved intimacy. I wasn’t communicative in how I wanted to be loved and so instead I was distant.

There was a point in our relationship where she said, “I don’t even know who you are…” God that hurts. She was right… call it insecurity or whatever, but I was too afraid to be who I was because I thought I just pushed her away. It’s funny because this turned into resentment and god damnit some nasty fights happened because of this resentment.

As time went on I was even too afraid to experiment with different techniques to get us talking about my issues. But it was too late.

I can remember every single fucking fight we had and it haunts me to this day because I HATE the fact that I turned her smile into a frown. God damnit – I hate making people unhappy and yet here I was fucking up.

But she wasn’t perfect either…

It’s too late to talk about her imperfections – a few words and some of her actions that were scarring, but god damnit if I were to do it over… I would’ve said how I felt about the scars she left me with… after the breakup. Instead these things are stuck with me and I’m angry with myself.

Now the only way I can release this cathartic pressure is through writing or creating a story or video. However, even this is tough because I was told by her I shouldn’t.

Like even now, after so many years, I still have to be watchful of what I do in relation to her needs? It’s a double edge sword: if I talk about it in any creative form, she gets pissed and I look like the bad guy which just amplifies my guilt even more. And, if I DON’T talk about it in any creative form, the thoughts occupy my head and I fall back into old vices and I pummel into trash cans as my life restarts at zero.

I’m tired I know. I know. I need to move on… but I can’t because there is this looming shadow haunting me, telling me it’s not over yet.

No – I’m not saying “it’s not over yet” as in I hope to get back together. FAR from it… I’m saying “it’s not over yet” as in I’m not in a place in my life where I’ve overcome my own demons enough to where she is finally irrelevant from my life.

What is it I have to overcome?

Gambling addiction.

Paying off a debt I promised I would pay back to her: it’s complicated because it’ll help alleviate my guilt, but also I’m peeved about how (not why) but how it was done.

Being able to finally have a career where I’m not only creating behind the scenes but also the talent in the front.

I need to overcome these things because I every time I falter… I hear her words taunting me and I get angry because I don’t want her to be right. I don’t want her to be right about me… I’m not a failure.

I’ve done so much. I’ve accomplished so much. I’ve had so many adventures and continue to have adventures. Yet, because of my vices, I have nothing to show for it besides a portfolio. And, because of this… her voice punches me across the head.

Now I’m just rambling.

You know what’s crazy about her and I? Even though we were together for so long we were very distant from each other. The many adventures I’ve had of that time… wasn’t even with her. I was alone with others. Many times I was the third wheel.

God I wish I was able to share my stories with someone back then. What stopped me from sharing? Was I that insecure or too afraid to open up? I still think it was a mixture of that plus some miscommunications on her end that led to the distance.

God you have no idea though. I often beat myself up for every little mistake I do in my life. So I often recall many of the mistakes I did in that relationship and it fucking haunts me. God damn I’ve made her cry. Fuck. It’s making me break down right now as I think of every single mistake I’ve made.

So many people in my life are like “Jonathan you’re an amazing nice guy…” am I though? look at me writing about her again. look at me explaining to you that i made her fucking cry. look at me telling you I have nothing to show for the accomplishments I’ve completed.

Maybe I’m just a really good friend but horrible with relationships… maybe I’m just that insecure. Maybe I just need help.

But how do balance all of this guilt, insecurities, and other thoughts that I’ve talked about and somehow release the pain that she brought unto me as well?

I guess I don’t.

This is why I’ve written about her and I’ve kept the ones I think are the most poetic and the ones that people can learn from (well I deleted them on facebook but they still live on this blog).

Listen I don’t know what I want.

Was I at least a good boyfriend? I think that’s the one thing that haunts me because I think I was… I really do. There are so many good memories but god damnit it those horrible actions and words I did is triggering.

I don’t know. I’m everywhere in this post.

It’s 3am in the morning and I’m just rambling.

This is what I know so far:

I want to have the courage to be able to jump back on YouTube again. Those negative comments of random people, plus her comments weighing me down, plus my own resistance (laziness and insecurity) is keeping me from jumping back on the YouTube train.

I hope to one day to stop sleeping around and dating people I don’t like. I hope to find someone who shares my child-like wonderment with emotional and intellectual depth. Who knows.

I hope to one day to tell her how I truly felt during and after the relationship. I don’t hate her – rather it’s these unsaid thoughts that provoke me… speaking creates freedom and I’m not free: I probably won’t be able to say it to her because anytime we communicate… something awful happens.

So instead I’ll revert back to creating some creative piece with the thoughts in my head: probably a short story in a memoir / novel or a short movie of sorts. Who knows. I just need to find the time to create it… and I will.

I hope one day to get rid of all this guilt. I don’t think I was a monster, but god damn did I did do horrible things. No one should be treated the way I treated her. It’s a weird balance because there are also so many good things I did too… but growing up in a domestic violent home and witnessing horrible relationships – I know for a fact that those good things don’t mean shit as the bad stuff will always always outweigh the good stuff. And – I can’t blame anyone but myself.

I don’t know

All I know is I’m getting closer to figuring it all out, because instead of back tracking to my vices I’m writing it all out right here.


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