Catharsis

Truly seeing another person can be hard.
You might wish that your paths did not diverge so much, that there was more time.
You might try to force a change that ultimately nobody wants.
Because what is beuty if it isn't free?
What is love if it isn't given selflessly?

To answer these question you might have to face yourself. This arguably most of us want to think that we are decent at. I think all the time that from countless, countless hours of introspection that I have come face to face with every demon that has ever lived and will ever live inside of me.

But the truth is, I was blind not to see the pattern. The ebb and the flow, there's always a demon growing, there's always a force trying to stop it. Any new tool that you produce to work on yourself ultimately might save you in the moment. The demon neutralized. But we.. are not made to be satisfied. We need to invent and reinvent and in the process of meeting other people, new demons will rise anew.

Demons are a part of life. The challenge they pose can break you on a fundamental level. I've been there.

I don't know if many people know that. I mean, I'm open about my life to anyone who's curious. But I have been, maybe I continue to be fundamentally a bit broken.

It just so happens, every broken piece has found a home somewhere inside of me. And slowly, slowly my mind unravels, as a mystery box, before my own minds eye.

I had a talk with my father recently. We get along much better now than we ever have had. I told him a little bit about my perspective on my not so ideal childhood, and told him that I had forgiven him since long.

After a minute I almost cried.
And he was sad, but also happy and agreed that he's also enjoying having this "Father/Son connection" after so many years.

To be honest, there are things I will never forgive. But I understand also that the guilt should be enough, I have nothing to add to that.

And let me be fourthcoming. The only way forward is through, right? At least that is what I believe.

I also carry guilt.

Before I started thinking for myself about what a relationship is and isn't my only real reference were idealized television and my mother and father.

I had very magical ideals.
My first girlfriend told me that "if we are gonna do this, first we got to take things slow, and do it right". I was too stupidly horny as young teenager to take that to heart.

Nobody ever after that point, ever said anything wise like that too me again. We just assumed, and played a game of "let's be boyfriend and girlfriend" and hope that we understand what that means without any effort.

This left me an incredibly confused lovefool.

Before getting more into this, none of what I say is meant to do any justice to the deeds I carry guilt for. But this is my story and I want you(the reader) to know the whole thing.

One morning, I got home from work, and my then girlfriend, second ex was sleeping. I came in and I was like, hey.. I really need to talk to you. I actually don't remember what it was about but things had been tense in general, in our relationship and also with my family. She was really tired and needed to sleep in and I tried to tell her that it was important. With all the emotions that were boiling inside of me I hit the wall next to the bed, It's basically above where she slept so it really startled her.

This stuff is going to be tough for me to talk about. I have processed much of it but never talked about it in plain text, for anyone to find and dissect.

We had a big fight and It's safe to say that was the breaking point between us. Probably the worst breakup I ever had. But this is not the end of it. It's about to get darker.

Fast forward a month or so, it so happens we are going on a planned trip. Me, my second ex and her best friend. Situation was a bit loaded and my feelings were very confused, it was stupid but let's not linger on it.

We got to the place, and while yes we had been drinking I'm in no way hiding behind this. The choice to drink is as much our responsebility as anything, and again it was a bad choice. At this point they are stacking up.

The night was coming to an end and I was setting up my tent when I realized I did not have all the stuff I needed. I asked if I could sleep in my second exs tent, which she agreed upon if our bedrolls remained separate.

During the evening as she was falling asleep, and very gradually I think I wanted to think we were getting closer. There was no way I could sleep with everything running through my head at that point. I was so confused, heartbroken and here I was next to her.

And we inched closer. Probably my unconscious moving me forward. Eventually we touch bedrolls.

I started putting my hand around her, I think I realized she was awake. I touched her, inside of her clothes, her knickers with my hand. She froze to the touch and I didn't get far, and I really can't remember exactly what happened first but I think she broke out of the state she was in, and basically ran out of the tent.

So yes.. I did it.
Something I keep as a constant reminder to never. ever. do again. And nothing I ever do will make this right, and no amount of sorry or deed can ever redeem it. It is guilt, pure and proper.

I've openly told anyone who I've started having a meaningful encounter with about this event, because I want them to know this defining moment.

I thought once or twice, that I should turn myself in because of it.
But maybe this is a better, if I keep being honest and open. If I keep this close as a guiding principle in my life.

I'm still learing so much about people and relationships. What it means to let go, what it means to let things take time.

I found so many tools that worked wonders for me as a person. I found ways to communicate with feelings that felt previously impossible. It's because of a person that made me challenge everything about how relationships are supposed to be.

Enter my third ex.

The first person who shared with me, a structure, a package of how things could work if you take to yourself a few core values.

I ended up having four amazing years with this person.

However, everything about this relationship was not amazing.
During this relationship, I've once hit a wall in agony. I've tossed a chair to the floor.

I think it's important you understand that one thing that made us so strong was because we challenged each other, and we were both very smart and strong willed.

This was also one of our pitfalls that led to so much frustation.

A central theme that ran through many of our arguments was "What can I ask for without putting pressure on you?". The answer was from day one until the end, no different "I don't know".

We lived quite frivolously. Experimenting a lot with different ways on how to maximize freedom, while maintaining a working, very close, romantic relationship.

So, at one point she was away for a week with another person she was building an intimate romantic relationship with. I put a lot of pressure on her during this time because of reasons I won't get into in detail I was feeling incredibly insecure about this, and fear of history repeating itself started to grow.

We were going to meet at the end, and connect but towards the end of the week she started being really shifty over text messages, I sensed something was going on and I think I went a little bit mad.

And I was right. She only returned to tell me that it was over.

I, already having been driven sort of off my rails went a bit ballistic. Sadness, anger, grief has never, ever quite hit me that hard. And this is the second guilt that I carry. The memory of this scares me.

I don't remember it all. But I'll share the highlights.
I remember having a panic attack, I remember it feeling like there was no room for me so I threw off my shirt, like I was burning, for a while I thought about tossing myself out of the balcony, and for yet another while I posed with a knife telling her I was going to hurt myself.. when I saw fear in her eyes I put the knife down. I remember kneeling asking please. I remember screaming from the top of my lungs, feeling that I had fucked up the truest love that I've ever experienced. As she was trying to leave I told her that she promised me to give us time. And when she refused I said I would not let her out. Eventually she got out and even if every fiber of my body wanted to stop her, some part of me knew there was no forcing it even if at the time that is all I wanted.
I followed her out in the blistering cold, shirtless.
I forgot my key, she toss her extra on the ground.

I hate that this happened.

And all of this guilt has to amount to something inside of me. And all the pain of knowing what I've caused need to amount to something good.

This is why I keep this too, as a guiding principle. I'm not sure how but I know I grow as a person. And I grow into someone who can be more productive in ways that I can express myself.

Finally, we have come to the last piece.

Where I take all the good parts, still believing so strongly in the tools I've come to depend on, only to see how they put in another context actually can put pressure on others, who are of course their own unique person.

So what can I learn from this?

That no tools ever work for every person, no amount of tool will work for every personal demon. That every meeting, every person has to be a dialog, with no preconception of how to get intimate, get romantic, fall in love.

And finally after fifteen or more years, listening back to my first ex, hearing her voice telling me "time to do this right, to take things slowly", applying what I know today. It is clear, doing it right means listening to each other, and taking things slowly is just that. Trust, and love will grow, if given the right nutrition, and that's something only others can show you, in time.

Time is an interesting aspect of this. I have always felt like rushing into love, partially because of a fear of missing out. But perhaps the rush also means I'm missing things, by pushing what will come naturally.

And so a new demon appears before me. This time new tools will be made, I sharpen my mind. Hunker down, focus on what is important.

I already know the first tools that are going to be paramount in this endevour.

Wish me luck.
This is my silverlining,
I've found it.

Signed, Mireneye

On the long road back

It feels so different to live in a world without Ladie, my grandmother and Björne.

In a world without a stable social circle.
I thought I would survive 2019 and feel stronger and feel that I had processed the bad that happened so I could enjoy everything amazing that happened.

But I don't know. I mostly feel changed.
Because I got to encounter most of it alone.

It sometimes feels like the universe owes me something, like there is an infinitely large hole in me. Unfortunately this has had an adverse impact on loved and close ones when I asked for help.

I am often treated as if I cannot handle it on my own then I am trash. No one wants to be with a weak person. They don't say it, but it obviously feels like they're pulling away. And people who "care" suggest that I need to fix something in how I think. Is it so strange that maybe I just need a hug and someone to listen?

I tried to hold on harder and harder, because I don't want to lose more this year.

And then I lost even more.

After everything, being able to trust once again that I can let go, and people will come back if I give them space and time; is so difficult.

I plays a music playlist, which happens to contain songs from all my past loving relationships. Songs too good to take away. It feels like all the bad things of those happens to me happens at the same time, as if my life consisted of four separate timelines that simultaneously meet in a head-on collision.

All mental wounds bleed simultaneously.
And my, not so ideal childhood makes itself heard.

But I try not to define myself after this sacrificial gown.

I always have a silver line. I have always been attracted by the idea that whatever you do, there is always something to build on.

This should not be an exception.
So that's why I'm looking for what my silver line can be.

(This is a repost from Facebook, where it was first published 13th of November 2019)

The ugly

I don't know where to start.

My journey to Urkult had a series of events that unfolded that put me in a very vulnerable position. And in that position I think I was furthermore hurt a few times. And furthermore, I probably went into Urkult, already carrying a lot of recent burdens.

I feel betrayed.
But the smart thing would be to separate the feeling of being betrayed with the intention.
And I think I can be certain that no-one meant for this to happen. No-one means me ill. I think. Their intentions good.

I think the cases can be distilled into the categories of 1, miscommunication and 2, me wanting to believe, therefore not seeing the full picture. (misinterpreting by choice).

I think that would make an accurate display of what transpired.

Going into it, I know I'm still fragile from the death of a close ones dog, and now I'm carrying a new sorrow that I aquired during my journey. The death of my granny. Last of the close relative in the older part of the family line.

My dad was also at the hospital, they are still figuring out what is wrong with him, but he is home now at least.

And my mom, well.. Her condition isn't any better. I feel sad that I don't see her that much. Life seeming so fleeting these days, maybe I won't get the chance to really talk to her about all the things that actually matter.

I don't know what's happening to me. I feel exhausted, like I can't take any more.

I want to be the person who can infuse good things in my relationships. Not the one spewing venom. But I'm screaming on the inside, a baby scream. Afraid that these feelings I have will ruin the few good things that's going on in life right now. Maybe they already have. Maybe this is just the cascade. And I'm powerless, watching the bricks fall like dominos that I have no control over.

I fear that I can't make someone feel appreciated. I fear that I'll do more damage than good.
I try to be transparent. "Hey, I'm sort of a mess right now, I'm sorting things through, I hope you can be patient with me".

I hope my words will be more than an echo. I need to be heard, need to be felt.
Surely these feelings are mine to process, mine to get through.

But as it's all coming down around me. I can't help but feel, I might need some wind under my wings, so I can take off and fly once more.

Signed, Mireneye