Log in

WTF! - Very long post - skim if you wish - Feeling Sorry For Myself [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Feeling Sorry For Myself

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

WTF! - Very long post - skim if you wish [Sep. 30th, 2003|02:41 pm]
Feeling Sorry For Myself


[mood |angryangry]
[music |" Ancient Temple " - D&D music by Midnight Syndicate]

First, I want to apologize to all that I offended by posting about my radio show in here. I realize that this is supposed to be about our feelings and trials, but I also thought that it might be a good place to get to know one another. My bad.

I'm going to whine now. Before I do, a little background. Two years ago, I was rear ended by a rather large truck that damaged two of my lower vertebrea. Very very painful. I've been adjusting for those 2 years in doing things in another manner than that which I'm used to. The one thing I refused to do is lay down and die. I make my best attempts to work as much as I can and function as close to "normal" as my bod will allow. Flash forward to about 4 months ago. Rear ended again! Car, fucked up again. This time I became so anvious about driving I haven't done it since. My anxiety makes me focus on every thing moving around the car as if it's targeting me. Unrealistic? Very. But that's what my mind tells me nonetheless. I can't even open my eyes as a passenger, although that's been getting better. I'm peeking here and there. Before the accidents, as far back as I can remember, my body and mind have been screaming at me to do things faster and shaking me into terrors. I didn't know it was panic until after the first accident when the doc told me a story about this boy named Raven who had some internal issues that his body was not good at dealing with. Some things made sense. Three med changes later, I'm up for my 4th here next week, many painful physical therapy sessions, pain meds, muscle meds and Xanax for the really bad times, here I stand.

A broken shell of what a 35 year old male is supposed to be. I'm scared of being alone, of no one understanding what I feel and no one loving me. Well, all except for my two beautiful daughters, 13 and 8. They are everything I live for. I'm why they're here and they're why I'm here. That is my purpose in life. Nothing else gives me unconditional joy. I draw, drum, write and host my own weekly radio talk show. I have a best friend who cares for me when it's convenient for her. There are people I've met online that are some of the most amazing folks I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I've met them in person too so it's not just an online personality.

What I wonder is why I am able to make it to work, maintain my responsibilities as a responsible parent and constantly strive to make myself better? Faced with what is always bearing me down, I never feel like I can even do it for one day, but I try. I'm very proud of myself for the attempts I make but it's all internal. I want to be noticed by people who are important to me (besides the girlies, they're the greatest). I want love. I don't want someone to tell me they love me cause they're into a certain part of me, I want to be loved from head to toe. (Ya pervs!)

I can't figure out what to do to help how I feel. Some have said, dump everyone who is part of the problem and not part of the solution. Easier said than done. In spite of the length of this whining rant all about me. I love people. I want to help. I want to make others smile and feel like they are worth something. That's the main reason I do the radio show. I bring laughter and information to people and I get a thanks for it sometimes. That's pure joy for me. I draw constantly. I'm not bad to be modest, but you know where 99% of what I create goes? The trash. No one would ever care to see what I do. The other 1% goes to my babies cause I love the joy in their eyes when they see me create something that's "cool" to them.

A friend of mine summed it up in her own distress the other day:

"When is it my turn?"