Demons

I am not one given to great bouts of introspection; this is probably because I fear what I might unearth with too deep a search. I do however, try to work out the “kinks” in my system with the hope that one day, I just might smile at the person staring at me during my morning ablutions. This is, of course, easier to say than to do and sometimes I find myself in very unfamiliar territory, where I’m so scared out of my wits, it’s all I can do to leave my house. On those occasions I find I cannot recognize myself, or the person I purport to be.

Maybe these periods of unhappiness (let’s give it a name) stems from my feelings of guilt, my knowledge of self; I would be the first to admit that I haven’t always treated those around me in the best of fashions. Even those that I admittedly call friends or (to my eternal damnation) those that have shared intimate feelings with me. Until a while ago I was not able to look at myself and say, “Some things need fixing”. I was always able to gloss over my faults and comfort myself by saying “better luck next time”, “you can’t win them all” or some other messed up cliché that has been spoon fed to us from a myriad of sources. Every once in a while though, one must look back to the cause of the malaise and if at all a pattern emerges, then “Some things need fixing”.

I am not a nice person, I come before everybody, if at all you are unfortunate to come within my sphere of existence then chances are, you are there to fulfill some need of mine, and if not you then the next person. For as far back as I can remember I’ve always thought this way and at some point I really did believe and give in to this philosophy. It has caused me no end of sorrow, the logical conclusion of such a warped mindset philosophy is, when the person is done sating my need, then their welcome is of course revoked. This has been a recurring pattern in all my relationships, and I can’t help but sometimes feel that I may have lost some path to happiness in one of these.

I feel shattered. I am caught in a cyclic daze; I would beg to end this right now, but how? Half the people I’ve wronged can’t stand me (that in itself is not a condemnation on their part, because most times, I can’t stand myself). It is not that I seek my sense of self from these people. Actually that is not the case, but leaving a bad taste in peoples’ mouth will sooner or later wear you down, no matter how much of a narcissist you claim to be. Me, I am close to reaching my breaking point. It is one thing to have problems, it is quite another to think, nay, know that your biggest problem is yourself. I would have ended this a long time ago on the river Thames; some times, I wonder why I didn’t.

Does this mean I have nothing to offer those around me? In plain and simple terms I would probably say yes, I have nothing to offer anyone. If the totality of my utility is overshadowed by my demons then what point. Believe me, I do have demons, so do most, I know. Yet mine have gotten to such a stage that I wonder who is in charge of me, them or me. My money’s on them, and with good cause, they have triumphed once too often. Yet I am not laying all the blame at their doorstep, demons are as demons do, there is always an element of complicity, at least in my case there is.

That I could die and leave the world unseen. Even that would be too easy an out for me. I beg not to be besieged by these thought too often, I am weakened from constantly trying to absolve myself of my past deeds. I wish I could move on as the “past friends, past relationships” have. I know they spare no thoughts for me, why bother. I will never be happy, one once said to me, you don’t know what you want, another opined. They are happy, 2.4 kids, a cat and a dog, the camper for the weekend, a house in the ‘burbs. Me, I look at my latest victim, sorry “girlfriend” and wonder how long this will last. When will my demons claim her too, when does the next cycle begin, should there be a next cycle?

I am not happy, I want to give these feelings away, but to whom. I wear my masks (yup, lots of those too) so well; no one is even to believe that these words I say are true. Help kill these feelings inside me please; my self-recriminations are threatening to tear me apart. Because it is all-true.