I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't even know why I want to respond anymore. I guess a little free association writing helps get the lead out. I need to vent this steam.
I'm so tired of it. The haunting. The endless explanations and reasonings. I just want to move on. My body is battered and, my spirit is torn in so many different ways. Despite trying to look up to the bright side after acknowledging my faults and trying to move on, I've just today flirted with the idea of taking my life. Daydreaming about the letter i would write: "now i'm really dead to you". I know... It's totally stupid. I guess it's just exhausting, especially after the accident. My sisters know about everything now, and it's good that they do. I know that they still love me and care about me, but in what capacity now? Gather together, women of the world, and fight against the tyranny of men! Stick together, feminists! Sigh. We're all human, and imperfect though... Although I wonder if few even care to know how sorry I am for what I've done. Sometimes, I feel like I want to leave this place forever.
It's going to be a long and hard process to move on from this. We had such a civil conversation over IM yesterday, but in her status message she wrote "karma". Karma to get hit by a car and almost killed? My sister calls me yesterday. "What were you thinking?!?!?!" repeated over, and over again. What was I thinking? I wasn't. I was feeling. And my feelings led me to someplace very wrong. Turned me into a selfish immature child, who knew only want without the consequences. "Oh yeah, I heard you were hit by a car...you ok? good." It doesn't matter, I guess. What order it all took place, or how it transpired. Maybe I should have turned out a quadraplegic. Serves him right.
I'm lucky to be alive, but living feels like a tormenting, hellish place sometimes. Vacillating between being able to deal with myself, and being incredibly guilty and miserable to the point of sheer anxiety. It's my own doing, I know. Meghan wants everyone we know to side with her. That's just fine. She's right, I'm wrong, and people should side with her. But I'm not a bad person. Conflicted, immature at times, self-destructive, self-sacrificing, yes. All of the above. Without a doubt. But deep down, I am not malicious. I am not a serial killer, or a petty thug. I was just cowardly, selfish, and scared. Scared of consequences, rejection, loneliness, and ridicule.
Sometimes, all I want to do is sleep, and now even that is marred by the dull pain of my injuries. I wish I could just go to sleep, wake up, and everything be allright. I'm sure Meghan feels the same way sometimes... We have to go on dealing in the ways that we have to. She has hers, I have mine. Trying to come to terms with my guilt and with what I've done. Her exacting retribution to me in her own ways... My family, of course, siding with her, as they should.
What a lesson to learn, and what an incredible burden to bear. I hope you rot in hell. Well, here I am. In my own personal hell. Rotting. Tormented. Just as anyone would want to have it. And now I wonder... How bad would it be, if i was going a little faster through that intersection? What if it was an SUV instead of a car? People would probably say I got what I deserved, then. Push up dasies. I'd make better fish food.
This morning I had a dream. Anxiety dream, for sure. Kate and I were on some kind of spaceship that we were on a mission to destroy. We set the self-destruct timer, and start running to the room where the spacesuits are. We put them on. On the back of our suits was a little knob to turn on the oxygen. I turn hers on, and we float out into space. But wait. I realize that mine isn't turned on, but she's already floating too far ahead to hear or see me. I suffocate, alone.
And then I woke up.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Karmic Retribution and being hit by cars...
Last night, riding bikes on the way to meet up with Greg, I was hit by a car. Chris and I rode to work and were going to meet Greg for a drink . We decided to take the Franklin Bridge across to get to Silverlake. Crossing through the intersection of St.George and Griffith Park Blvd. I went through an intersection having the green light, and someone decided to make a left turn right into me. I heard from over my shoulder, Chris saying "Watch Out!" But there was no time to react or avoid.
It all happened so fast. The only thing I saw was this white car and it's headlights, bearing down on a collision course with me. At first, I thought there may be some way to avoid it, but in a flash realized that it was impossible. No way out. Brace yourself. I distinctly remember the glossy shine of the car, and the glare of the headlights. A dull, deep, cracking sound. The car hit me almost perpendicularly, lifted me, and sent me flying. Literally, I felt my body inverted in the air as I was flying across, hitting the hood of the car first, and being flung through the air to the pavement. The inertia was so intense, that all I could do was let my body go limp and give in to where it going. Ever go end over end in the snow while skiing / snowboarding? That's the kind of vertigo I felt. When I landed, the pain was immense and numbing. Too much pain to move at first, then shock, thinking about all the bones I probably broke.
Lying on the ground, I heard the car screech away, as I saw Chris take off screaming after the car on his bike, as two other cars also sped in pursuit. Asshole. After dragging myself to the curb, I realized that i miraculously hadn't broken anything, although in a lot of pain, and bloody. I could hardly move my left leg and ankle below my knee, and my right thigh was throbbing, not to mention my shoulder, which plowed right into the hood of that guys' car. I hope I left a good mark.
I must say that it was heartwarming to see all the good samaritans who had gathered, called 911, and were of utmost help. Chris was my savior and had it not been for him, I don't know how I would've gotten through this ordeal. He took care of my bike, my things, and sat with me the whole time, making sure I was allright, before going to the hospital. Apparently one of the cars that sped after the jerk was able to get a license plate number. I hope they catch that guy.
As for my bike, the fork is snapped where the car hit. If I had been any further into the intersection, that would've been my leg, no problem. I hope that guy has some sort of insurance. I don't really want anyone to go to jail or anything. I just want my bike fixed and my medical bills paid for. Oh, and maybe some sort of apology. But I doubt any of those things will actually happen...
It was by far the scariest experience of my life, and looking back on it while waiting in the hospital, I could only think of karmic retribution as being a fitting description to the course of events. Thank god I'm alive.
It all happened so fast. The only thing I saw was this white car and it's headlights, bearing down on a collision course with me. At first, I thought there may be some way to avoid it, but in a flash realized that it was impossible. No way out. Brace yourself. I distinctly remember the glossy shine of the car, and the glare of the headlights. A dull, deep, cracking sound. The car hit me almost perpendicularly, lifted me, and sent me flying. Literally, I felt my body inverted in the air as I was flying across, hitting the hood of the car first, and being flung through the air to the pavement. The inertia was so intense, that all I could do was let my body go limp and give in to where it going. Ever go end over end in the snow while skiing / snowboarding? That's the kind of vertigo I felt. When I landed, the pain was immense and numbing. Too much pain to move at first, then shock, thinking about all the bones I probably broke.
Lying on the ground, I heard the car screech away, as I saw Chris take off screaming after the car on his bike, as two other cars also sped in pursuit. Asshole. After dragging myself to the curb, I realized that i miraculously hadn't broken anything, although in a lot of pain, and bloody. I could hardly move my left leg and ankle below my knee, and my right thigh was throbbing, not to mention my shoulder, which plowed right into the hood of that guys' car. I hope I left a good mark.
I must say that it was heartwarming to see all the good samaritans who had gathered, called 911, and were of utmost help. Chris was my savior and had it not been for him, I don't know how I would've gotten through this ordeal. He took care of my bike, my things, and sat with me the whole time, making sure I was allright, before going to the hospital. Apparently one of the cars that sped after the jerk was able to get a license plate number. I hope they catch that guy.
As for my bike, the fork is snapped where the car hit. If I had been any further into the intersection, that would've been my leg, no problem. I hope that guy has some sort of insurance. I don't really want anyone to go to jail or anything. I just want my bike fixed and my medical bills paid for. Oh, and maybe some sort of apology. But I doubt any of those things will actually happen...
It was by far the scariest experience of my life, and looking back on it while waiting in the hospital, I could only think of karmic retribution as being a fitting description to the course of events. Thank god I'm alive.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Meghan...
Ah. Public discourse into the nature of such a personal matter. If this is the way we need to communicate, to put our personal lives in the public eye, then you've obviously made that choice for both of us. What a spectacle! This shouldn't be for all to see. This is a glimpse into something very private and personal. I understand that you want to hurt me, and you have every right to do so. You've also chosen by far the most powerful method of doing it. Our metaphorical Nuclear War... You are exacting revenge for something very terrible that I had done, and I am in no position to argue. This morning when I read your comment to my post, I was embarrassed, hurt, ashamed. As I should be. I scrolled down to the trash icon of your comment and prepared to delete it by impulse. I didn't want anyone to see, to know... But then I stopped. Instead, I started writing this. It's painful, embarrassing, both to read and write. But by forcing myself to go through this incredibly difficult catharsis, and dealing with things publicly, I don't have anywhere to hide. The nature of the situation feels very Hester Prynne'esque. Everyone knows everything, and maybe that's a good start. Time will tell...
"I'm trying to see the other side of you too. Trying to see you for a human being and not just a selfish man. But you haven't convinced me yet."
Maybe over time, I can convince not only you, but everyone else, including myself. I know I'm only human, and that like everyone else, I make mistakes too. But why was I so inclined to fail so miserably? To lie so unashamedly? Pathologically? How could I delude myself to a degree where I was able to be convinced that hurting you in this way was passible?
I find some solace in the fact that in dealing with this, in this way, that I'm already stronger than most would give me credit for. I am purposely refusing myself the opportunity to hide, and to not acknowledge my actions. I am not canceling all my social-networking subscriptions. I will not hide. I genuinely want to change, to right the wrongs I've created, and move on with my life in a deterministic way. I have to do this. Both for you, and myself. These are first steps...
I am so interminably sorry, Meghan.
I have to try to work now...
"I'm trying to see the other side of you too. Trying to see you for a human being and not just a selfish man. But you haven't convinced me yet."
Maybe over time, I can convince not only you, but everyone else, including myself. I know I'm only human, and that like everyone else, I make mistakes too. But why was I so inclined to fail so miserably? To lie so unashamedly? Pathologically? How could I delude myself to a degree where I was able to be convinced that hurting you in this way was passible?
I find some solace in the fact that in dealing with this, in this way, that I'm already stronger than most would give me credit for. I am purposely refusing myself the opportunity to hide, and to not acknowledge my actions. I am not canceling all my social-networking subscriptions. I will not hide. I genuinely want to change, to right the wrongs I've created, and move on with my life in a deterministic way. I have to do this. Both for you, and myself. These are first steps...
I am so interminably sorry, Meghan.
I have to try to work now...
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Begin.
"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind" -Ralph Waldo Emerson
My 11th grade High School English Teacher used to make us write that on the top of every assignment and paper we had turned in since the beginning of the year. How do you define integrity of the mind at such a young age? I had assumed Emerson's advice was just to not go crazy. Only as I got older did I know about what the true integrity of one's mind means.
For the past 3 months, I was having an affair, and lied about it. I was so wrong to do so and lie to Meghan about it. Terribly and completely unfair to her. She called me a pathological liar multiple times during the course of our breakup, and I've begun to really explore what that means to me, other than the mere severity and harshness of those words. We all lie in many different ways and varying degrees. Whether we decide to give undeserved praise, or whether we convince ourselves that we are happy when deep down, we're not... We lie to others and ourselves to cope with guilt, and to avoid the consequences of our actions. This entry (and those that will follow) begins my process of self-exploration. Some say you need to see psychiatric help to get over your issues. I think the reason is that you need an outlet to discuss and impartially go through your thoughts with you. Talking to friends and writing about my feelings / interpreting my actions is my way of seeking that out right now. "It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution." I've lied to so many people about the situation, and through these entries, the truth will be displayed. My flaws and shortcomings exposed, and identified. I feel that only by openly acknowledging my problems and facing them head-on, will I find my way, my path to leading an honest life, and begin my journey towards healing and self-realization.
Why did I lie to Meghan about the affair? Fear. I had cowardly took the position of trying not to get caught, than to face the fact that I was falling out of love with her. After three and a half years, and all of our mutual friends, I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth about my doubts and my insecurities regarding the longevity of our relationship. She had wanted marriage, children, or at least the promise that these things would be in our future together. I was unclear, unsure, and felt backed into a corner when the question was asked for the nth time in Japan, and I had finally replied "no". There were things about our relationship that I was always unsure of, and I think Meghan saw this too. We both wanted things to work so badly that I think we both convinced ourselves that everything was fine when it really wasn't. Letting a poignant argument, or destructive realization smooth over and be forgotten after a night's rest.
Lesson 1: Don't lie to yourself about thinking things are fine when your intuition clearly tells you otherwise.
One of my best friends, Aaron asked me if I thought it was self-destructive, the way I went about the last months of our relationship and my affair. Absolutely. I think I'd have rather taken the role of the antagonist and nurture the possibility of the worst situation, than simply come clean and tell her the truth early on. Building up my own personal punishment. Tormenting myself with lying to everyone, and trying to believe my own lies, too. I think I was literally trying my hardest to make myself crazy. So odd, in retrospect, why I would do that... I'm sure part of it was not wanting to get caught. I didn't want to hurt Meghan, but I still wanted to be happy. I wanted everyone to be happy. But at the same time, how to end things? Was I ready to destroy the otherwise outwardly seeming perfect life we'd created with each other? Could it be salvaged in time? Was there a possibility for salvation even after the affair started? By that time, I had already detached, both from Meghan, and myself and my own feelings. I didn't care anymore. I sought comfort elsewhere, and at the same time, was unable to quell the feeling of detachment from my core intuition. I felt lost, depressed.
Subconsciously, I think I wanted Meghan to find out. I never deleted e-mails, never deleted text messages... If I was a better liar, or more diligent about lying to her, maybe I would have. But I consciously chose not to. Maybe it was the guilt creeping in, or that I wanted to be found out. Maybe it was the apathy, and not caring. I was tired of it, exhausted of leading a double life. I had found someone that I was truly interested with and excited about, and I felt guilty for admitting it to her.
I worked for a place for 4.5 years doing non-profit work. After the 2nd year, I knew it wasn't the best working environment for me because of the working conditions and pay, but I had decided to stay and "fight the good fight". Out of a sense of obligation towards the social justice movement, I started building up a resentment towards that place, and started to look for ways to get out. I took classes at Art Center... I started looking for work... I was trying to inflate the raft before jumping ship... Parallel?
I want the people around me to be happy... I try to cushion the blow of bad news, of things people close to me don't want to hear. I truly care about others, and their feelings. A lot of times, I'll compromise my own happiness for the happiness of others. That's where I go wrong. The only thing it gives me is a sense of growing resentment both towards myself, and indirectly towards the other person. To quell that resentment, I think I subconsciously get back at them and myself by being self-destructive. By pursuing the things that make me happy and then trying to maintain some semblance of the way things should be. Deception.
More to come...
My 11th grade High School English Teacher used to make us write that on the top of every assignment and paper we had turned in since the beginning of the year. How do you define integrity of the mind at such a young age? I had assumed Emerson's advice was just to not go crazy. Only as I got older did I know about what the true integrity of one's mind means.
For the past 3 months, I was having an affair, and lied about it. I was so wrong to do so and lie to Meghan about it. Terribly and completely unfair to her. She called me a pathological liar multiple times during the course of our breakup, and I've begun to really explore what that means to me, other than the mere severity and harshness of those words. We all lie in many different ways and varying degrees. Whether we decide to give undeserved praise, or whether we convince ourselves that we are happy when deep down, we're not... We lie to others and ourselves to cope with guilt, and to avoid the consequences of our actions. This entry (and those that will follow) begins my process of self-exploration. Some say you need to see psychiatric help to get over your issues. I think the reason is that you need an outlet to discuss and impartially go through your thoughts with you. Talking to friends and writing about my feelings / interpreting my actions is my way of seeking that out right now. "It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution." I've lied to so many people about the situation, and through these entries, the truth will be displayed. My flaws and shortcomings exposed, and identified. I feel that only by openly acknowledging my problems and facing them head-on, will I find my way, my path to leading an honest life, and begin my journey towards healing and self-realization.
Why did I lie to Meghan about the affair? Fear. I had cowardly took the position of trying not to get caught, than to face the fact that I was falling out of love with her. After three and a half years, and all of our mutual friends, I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth about my doubts and my insecurities regarding the longevity of our relationship. She had wanted marriage, children, or at least the promise that these things would be in our future together. I was unclear, unsure, and felt backed into a corner when the question was asked for the nth time in Japan, and I had finally replied "no". There were things about our relationship that I was always unsure of, and I think Meghan saw this too. We both wanted things to work so badly that I think we both convinced ourselves that everything was fine when it really wasn't. Letting a poignant argument, or destructive realization smooth over and be forgotten after a night's rest.
Lesson 1: Don't lie to yourself about thinking things are fine when your intuition clearly tells you otherwise.
One of my best friends, Aaron asked me if I thought it was self-destructive, the way I went about the last months of our relationship and my affair. Absolutely. I think I'd have rather taken the role of the antagonist and nurture the possibility of the worst situation, than simply come clean and tell her the truth early on. Building up my own personal punishment. Tormenting myself with lying to everyone, and trying to believe my own lies, too. I think I was literally trying my hardest to make myself crazy. So odd, in retrospect, why I would do that... I'm sure part of it was not wanting to get caught. I didn't want to hurt Meghan, but I still wanted to be happy. I wanted everyone to be happy. But at the same time, how to end things? Was I ready to destroy the otherwise outwardly seeming perfect life we'd created with each other? Could it be salvaged in time? Was there a possibility for salvation even after the affair started? By that time, I had already detached, both from Meghan, and myself and my own feelings. I didn't care anymore. I sought comfort elsewhere, and at the same time, was unable to quell the feeling of detachment from my core intuition. I felt lost, depressed.
Subconsciously, I think I wanted Meghan to find out. I never deleted e-mails, never deleted text messages... If I was a better liar, or more diligent about lying to her, maybe I would have. But I consciously chose not to. Maybe it was the guilt creeping in, or that I wanted to be found out. Maybe it was the apathy, and not caring. I was tired of it, exhausted of leading a double life. I had found someone that I was truly interested with and excited about, and I felt guilty for admitting it to her.
I worked for a place for 4.5 years doing non-profit work. After the 2nd year, I knew it wasn't the best working environment for me because of the working conditions and pay, but I had decided to stay and "fight the good fight". Out of a sense of obligation towards the social justice movement, I started building up a resentment towards that place, and started to look for ways to get out. I took classes at Art Center... I started looking for work... I was trying to inflate the raft before jumping ship... Parallel?
I want the people around me to be happy... I try to cushion the blow of bad news, of things people close to me don't want to hear. I truly care about others, and their feelings. A lot of times, I'll compromise my own happiness for the happiness of others. That's where I go wrong. The only thing it gives me is a sense of growing resentment both towards myself, and indirectly towards the other person. To quell that resentment, I think I subconsciously get back at them and myself by being self-destructive. By pursuing the things that make me happy and then trying to maintain some semblance of the way things should be. Deception.
More to come...
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