Biography in Current Events

What is my biography made up of? Judgement, resentments and regrets? I don’t know why my life flashed before my eyes yesterday but it did and it didn’t crush me until this morning. I was thinking about my father last night. Who would I be if he was alive? He was killed by a drunk driver when I was eight. He was the drunk driver. It was a motorcycle accident and actually, nobody knows if it was him or his buddy that was driving. They were evading the police and hit a pole on top of a bridge. I lost him before that though. My mother left him because he was a drunk. She told him that he could not see his kids unless he was sober. Either he was never sober or he never wanted to see us? I don’t care. He was a grown man, he made his choices. I never looked back before though. I do have a few memories of him. They’re not good ones. I’m told that he was very charismatic and very generous. I’m sure this is just how people want to remember him. He was eight years older than my mother who was seventeen when she had me. How good could he have been? I never collected father figures. I’ve always wanted to be my own man.

Recently I’ve also been wondering about the kind of person I would be if I wasn’t raped when I was four. I think it gave me the gift of empathy. I honestly think that I would be a complete narcissist or sociopath. I have a history of being a self-absorbed, self-serving, manipulative asshole and empathy is the only thing that has kept me from taking it too far. It keeps me grounded. However, I would not have these intimacy issues. I would not be afraid of men. I would not see sex as such a bad thing. I would not be afraid of becoming a monster like the man who did it. I wouldn’t be afraid of children. I suppose it is still possible to be a person who doesn’t have these issues.

What kind of person would I be today if I wasn’t captured and tortured by the family of the man who raped me? I was tied to a chair, used as an ashtray and such. It was a swell time. I became aware of the cycle of abuse early. The recipe of how to make a predator. The recipe of how to completely fuck up a person. I have all of the ingredients and I was nine when I promised myself that I would not grow up to become an addict. That I would not become a predator like the people who hurt me. That I would not end up on the streets selling my body. All of the things that kids with my history tend to become. I suppose it gave me the gift of being self-aware and empowered early in my life.

What would my life be like if I wasn’t gay? If I didn’t have to be so different? I tried to wish this all away once. I don’t want to be a person half of the world wants to erase. I don’t want to live feeling like I have to shrink myself down into someone that I’m not just so that I can fit into somebody else’s fantasy of what the world needs to be. However, embracing this part of myself induced self-love and acceptance. There is so much about myself and my life that I would be taking for granted if I was straight. This did come with gifts.

I’m just looking at my life right now. By everybody else’s standards, I am at rock bottom. How do we know when we’re okay? Because at the back of our minds there are those awful things that mustn’t happen and because they are not happening we know that we’re okay. I’m out here living in that nightmare of not okay. I have nothing. I have no one. If it wasn’t for my sister I would be homeless. I’ve been in this basement for a few years now. I was almost out when I lost my job. Just as I was starting to get back on my feet COVID-19 happened and I lost that job too. Of course, I know that this isn’t my worse nightmare anymore.

What got me to this point? What happened to me? Why did I have a nervous breakdown 5 years ago that lead me to lose almost everything? My anxiety disorder went full send in my early twenties. I developed a slight eating disorder as a result. It’s more comfortable to be hungry than to feel all those knots in my stomach. Actually, it feels good to be starving because I am in control. Self-harm much? It got so bad in my twenties that people thought I was sick. I was under attack one drunken night about my weight with my friends that I ended up lying and telling them that I had… cancer. Can you believe I would lie about that? It shut them up. Not my best moment. I still struggle with this to this day. I developed the disease to please in my twenties as a result and that was just me avoiding my own problems. I didn’t need help if I was helping. I bit off my more than I can chew and I was actually taken advantage of by quite a few people. I lost everything trying to save everybody. I was trying to save addicts from themselves and I was trying to save family and friends from domestic abuse. I had a nervous breakdown that led me to this current living situation. Nobody was there for me when I fell and I’m not bitter about it. I am okay with people growing out of my life. I’m just here, without people who love me the way people usually want to be loved. Without income. Without a real place to call home. This is a nightmare to most. This is my life right now.

So am I a strong person? A good person? Do I have anything to be proud of? What is my legacy? I have nothing to show for my life. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I’m just trying to inspire myself. It’s not the life behind me that is important. It’s the life ahead of me that I need to look at. I think I need to let go of my past and all of the limiting beliefs that it created for me. I need to be grateful for it all and just reboot. Easier said than done but it is possible. Whatever, I should go for a run or something now. When I think I sink.