Feeling alone

I’ve purposely surrounded myself with people who say they love me and want me to be happy. Then why do I feel like they’re walking the fine line of wanting me to be happy and needing me to make them happy. I don’t trust a single person. I’m stuck in a relationship where I want to have sex, but the other party want different, cuddly, type of sex. I just want someone who actually enjoys pleasing me. They say, do you enjoy pleasing her? That’s not what I want! I want someone who likes sucking and all the other ways of pleasing someone. Why’s it always come down to, “give to get” bs. I categorize people and need to lI’ve in MY reality, not yours. I need someone who I can have coffee with, them another for sex, not the same person. I need one at home who’s sweet and controlling, but another one to go down on me. There’s a problem and I don’t accept that it’s always my messed up brain causing the problems. Half the time, I want another guy, I keep myself feeling safe by having meaningless sexual encounters from people who can’t hurt me. I know it’s not the “norm”, but it’s the only way for me to be happy. So instead of being happy, I’m sad. I’m sad that no one wants me. What’s worse is that everyone wants me. I’m semetrical and fit, so I’m hit-on all the time. But I’m broken and could never allow someone that close again. For now, I’ll just keep thinking about death, wishing for it to come sooner than later.

-Ronin

Comments anyone?

Share your story, ideas, feelings.

-Ronin

Where’s Ronin?

Hi everyone,

My apologies for being distant, my daughters birthday is around the corner, my career interview is around the same corner, and my life is filled with eternal sadness. As I had slowly squeezed the trigger, I realized that I’m too much of a coward to go through with it. Haha, you win this round ego...

In the meantime, ask yourself what makes you want to “opt-out”. Now imagine that everything associated is gone, now what’s making you think of death, sadness? Keep going, or give in. You have two choices.

Best of choosing.

-Ronin

Ronin - Splitting

How I control my Borderline Personality

Check out... my Doberman buddies blog... Max My Doberman

Tonight, I had a podcast on while cleaning the dishes. I thought to myself, have I just been putting out complete garbage? Don’t get me wrong, I understand there’s always a percentage of people who don’t like my writing. This was more of an internal question, a ponderance, a coming to truth question. I would like to present myself, I’m Ronin. Over the last few weeks leading up to Father’s Day, I’ve had to split for a minute. Thus, my writing may have been a little… dark. I want to apologize to you, however, I honestly cannot. I promised myself I wouldn’t. I tend to over think things; emphatically so. I spent time with my loved ones over the weekend, which I have to make special arrangements for; unrelated to my diagnosis – ironically. I feel back to normal, that is until I split or disassociate; I believe the latter is next in rotation. See, I believe there to be some sort of cycle of peaks and lows. After a lot of internalizing and working on my inner-self. I noticed patterns, not far from how I operate in my day-to-day. My daily routine consists of establishing an identity for that day, more of a “how do you feel” kind of way. Through music or mantra, or just going with the flow, I find a peaceful balance of self. Then I’m ready to speak to people in an honestly deceptive manner. If that makes any sense.

Ronin pdx - Faces of Portland

I noticed the difference, mainly today. I specifically remember driving up to a stopped car, behind several other cars, at a red-stop light. I thought I was coming up a little too fast, but only a matter of uncomfortable versus controllable. I came to a nice smooth stop without jostling back and forth. All was good, so I thought. A few seconds pass by and the driver started eye-fucking me in their side mirror. The passenger started looking back and then in front, then back again. Traffic started moving at this point and the car hesitated, leaving a rather large gap. I started to move up and the passenger turns and flips me off. Then the car break-checks me, keep in mind we’re doing about ten to fifteen miles per hour—and they didn’t even come to a complete stop. Anyway, we all progress at a slow pace, even the traffic next to us was noticing their odd behavior and slowed a little. Now the passenger is giving me the finger out of their window, as if I didn’t see them the first time. What with all their stupid fucking hats in the back window of a car I assume they just fucking got, thanks to the shitty tape-job of a temporary tag. No, screw them…

So, throughout this little fiasco, I’m not aggressive in any way. In fact, I was noticing the negative effects of the adrenaline rush. I figured it was a mix of not eating, drinking a few cups of coffee, and not walking anywhere was the overall cause. You get no cardio driving, despite what your app tells you. However, I realized I wasn’t in a berserker mode. I was tactfully assessing how to kill him if things got out of hand-yes. But, I live a life unlike most, I guess. I’m guessing you do as well.

Back to writing. I love writing, I crave it now that I’ve seen the desperate need of an outlet. I can be my honest selves. This is the one true place I’m free and can exist without worry of… anything. I began this journey with the intension of writing the story of others. I flirted with notion to write a one-sided conversation over coffee, eh. Topics were draining to me and I felt like someone had me on autopilot. I just let the other driver take control. I focused on not focusing. Which I wonder if it may be causing some of my symptoms/negative coping. Despite, I had to do something, I knew I would feel better at some point. For however long this feeling lasts, I’m doing ok. I’m not 100%, but I have another trip coming up, and a few other stressors just over the horizon to get ready for.

Coping with the family.

I would say that I assist in raising a little boy that calls me dad. I’m trying to be the best role model I can be. I think about his mental health, his attitude, his conflict resolution skills, and more. I pay for rent and a few incidentals from here to there. I also pay child support for my baby that lives another few states away. It’s heartbreaking, truly crushing. I give this little boy everything I wish I could’ve given my own little, though I’m still in her life, her mother tries to keep me away.

More to come soon…

Please seek help if you are having any difficulties. My blog is not advice, it’s freedom of expression on my personal life. In my blog you will see many phone numbers, easily Google-able, for mental health assistance and other services.

 

Suicide is an option - Ronin

Suicide is an option



Check out... my Doberman buddies blog... Max My Doberman

I believe there are people who love their job, career, whatever you’d like to call it. Everything is changing these days, it’s a slow struggle to keep up with what’s politically correct or not. With loving their primary “thing” they do, let’s define it as a job, if nothing else for saving key strokes; shall we. My job is ok and …. Borderline great… Ha. Honestly, it is. I don’t make much in way of income but doing side jobs from time to time can be refreshing. I, in all honesty, do very well now; especially in comparison to a few years ago—and all the time before that. I used to play video poker, pool, and general small-time gambling to make ends meet. That was the same time someone dear and close to me went to prison, I’ve never been the same. I remember it vividly, dropping my father off at the building that would remove him from my life for the next thirteen years. Looking back, I clearly see that I reverted back to the child that was crying profusely at his Grandfather’s deathbed, holding in all the noises, but my eyes were running like a faucet. When we came back the next day to visit him before we left for home, I couldn’t go in. I cried so hard, I couldn’t move from my seat. I was sobbing and bouncing a little, a physiological response for calming I’m told. During that whole time, I lost my girlfriend of about seven years. Our friends were mostly comprised of couples who mostly knew my partner or were related to her, needless to say they chose her (who could blame ‘em).

So, where were we? Ah, yes—money.

I always thought that money would make everything better. It doesn’t, it provides a band aid that can last or fall off in the shower. I think life is going as well as it can, and it’s definitely better than ever. I explained it recently that if there are categories to life, then each category is exponentially full…even the negative. I feel great, no medications that make my skin leak, my face turn red and fall off and no sexual dysfunction; kill me. Seriously, I’m ready for death. I hear it now, the voice in the back of my head saying the comments left will be horrible. However, I’m thinking of just walking over to the gun and shooting myself in the face. Almost eager to do it. Like I’m waiting for someone to give me a little nudge.

That’ll show ‘em!

Fuck them for making me feel this way

Now they’ll know how I felt.

… all that garbage.

So, life’s going well… How are you…?

Suicide! “Just fucking please let me die”, is what I say to myself all the time. Where the fuck are all the crazy shooters at now? Just like the military, train you to do shit and never let you fucking do it!!!!!! I digress.

I have a partner that is so damn amazing it makes me sadder to think that I’m such an asshole and can’t love her back. I force myself into decisions that are the best thing at the moment, even if the “moment’ is counted in years. Suicide. I can’t seem to shut it off, when I think of not being able to do something, examples being: ride a bike due to fear, gain employment, get a better looking partner (I feel that way with everyone, not intended to be rude) and/or anything else that isn’t on the positive side—suicide.

I sit here with my partner and think of how amazing we have it. Thanks to getting good credit, after a decade of being on the shitty low end of 500. I’m now almost 800, and I treasure it for a slight moment… suicide. I’ll never be able to keep it up. The day is nice and sunny, my truck is fixed and my motorcycle is ready to go… yet I still want to kill myself. I can’t stop thinking that that is the best idea. That I want to see the other side, I want to meet my maker, I’m excited for the challenge.  I get scared, you bet! I mostly believe I’m going to Hell and I’m in for an eternity of damnation. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m going to hate it. Every decision I’ve ever made has been a horrible one. Nothing ends well. I hate all things. Suicide. I wish I could feel differently, I wish I could feel nothing. There’s are a few good artists that depict this, Blackbear, NF, Machine Gun Kelly, to name a few. I could be having sex and I look down and see that I’m not as big as I’d like to be and I think that I should just blow my brains out. Why even exist. Why be here in a shitty World that makes you feel like shit and makes me feel that suicide is the only option. Yet! If you do! If you do kill yourself, then you’ll be going to Hell right!? Fuck that! Fuck you for making me think that. I don’t know what’s reality anymore. Suicide.

I drive through lights wishing that they would be my last lights ever; bang! When will be my turn? Will God actually hate me? Will there be a Heaven for me to enter? I don’t even believe in that shit anyhow, so why the fuck am I thinking about it. I really don’t know what’s fact or fiction. Samurais used to do it! I don’t want to be in a World where Samurais are all in Hell. Suicide. I also feel there’s a possible game being played and that those who commit suicide are the actual winners… yay! Go Samurais! Just think of it? What’s that Dark Matter shit in space that doesn’t allow light of any other matter through. Huh? I start to think about things like that I say fuck it, I wanna opt out. I would very much like it if tomorrow were my last day. I have a weird feeling that because that’s what I want, I will actually out-live all whom I know. Which is partly why I believe I push everyone away… everyone. Hi Mom.

Suicide.

I gravitate toward you like a magnet to a fridge. I think of my daughter, and I want to kill myself. I was with her over Father’s Day weekend as I sat there snuggling with my baby, I wanted to kill myself. I don’t want to feel the pain anymore. I know I can, I just don’t want to. I even allocate time between the drop off of my daughter to her mother and the airport so I can wiggle in a little panic attack time. I’ve had two. I just can’t wait until the day my fucking heat stops of natural causes. I want to play the odds and die like everyone else wants to, as if it’s a game. Just to be sure that if I’m wrong and there is a Heaven, I hope to enter… crazy right?! It’s like, because someone said it, I had to put it in the Schrodinger’s Cat box.

-Ronin  

Please seek help if you are having any difficulties. My blog is not advice, it’s freedom of expression on my personal life. In my blog you will see many phone numbers, easily Google-able, for mental health assistance and other services.