trust issues…

so the past five or so years of my life have been really rough. i’ve gotten to the point before where i’ve just been like, ‘fuck reality, i reject it and insert my own.’ problem is, one can’t really do that. i’ve rejected the reality that i couldn’t ever really manage to make a living doing the one thing i’ve always felt i was meant to do with my life. i’ve rejected the reality that i haven’t been able to write and create music like i want to. and i’ve rejected the reality that i have real problems managing my life in a healthy way. i’ve turned to alcohol, smoking, and sex. i’ve tried for so very long to fill a gaping hole IN MY SOUL…all to no avail. nothing was ever enough to fit the bill. i finally suffered utter and complete defeat, and spiritual DEATH.

to understand the root of these issues that keep arising in my life, we have to go back to when i was a child. i believe i had a good childhood for the most part. i had the things i needed; food, clothes, roof over my head, the lights on, running water, and a family who loved me, or tried to at the very least. i had good friends in school and for the most part i stayed out of trouble save for a few episodes of mischief sprinkled in here and there. but there was a point where things started to go off the rails and it started when my parents divorced. looking back, i don’t think i ever really experienced a good example of what a healthy marriage or solid family relationship looks like. ever since i can remember, my father slept on the couch. every now and again, an argument would go a little too far. i’ll never forget the night i watched my father punch through a door in anger. i don’t really remember a whole lot about things, but the stuff i do remember, i remember thinking as a child that it was all NORMAL. my father’s overreactions. my mother’s utter disgust and lack of interest in continuing romantically with him. it’s all i’d ever known. after the divorce, my mother fell into making her children her sole priority and ended up overdoing it a bit. she had no hobbies. she refused to get back out dating or to finding a good solid male role model for us. she made us her entire world; but it was only out of love. my mother wasn’t so much the problem as was my father. no, i can see how much my mother loved us and continues to do so. my father, on the other hand, is a PIECE OF SHIT. there’s something about continually breaking promises to an 11 year old boy and absolutely refusing to be a part of his life that can seriously fuck up a kid. The times we did get to spend together, I was thrown in front of the tv in his apartment and he disappeared off into his room. i think it was during this time that my father’s actions impressed upon me that people can’t really be trusted. you’ll always be let down. and it will always HURT – A LOT.

it was actually one of the weekends at my father’s place where i took my first drink. by this time i was 14. i’ll never forget it. it was a big plastic jug of canadian LTD whiskey. i’d stumbled upon my dad’s stash looking for more soda. i thought to myself, ‘let’s give it a try.’ so i poured a little sip into the bottom of a cup and threw it back. it burned warm in my throat and afterward i started to feel this warm sort of glow. i went back for more. the glow intensified. i thought to myself, ‘this is why people drink! it’s awesome!’ i had gone numb and for the first time in a long time i didn’t feel like complete and utter garbage for my father’s lack of interest in spending time with me. this one night started a pattern of behavior in me that i still struggle with at almost 40 years old. it’s the sickness of my mind that tells me i need a chemical to face a hardship. it’s the sickness of my mind that says the feelings are going to be too painful for me to handle on my own. it’s the sickness of my mind that makes me believe i’m not good enough for people to love me and that i will never deserve it. it’s the sickness of my mind that makes me hate myself.

needless to say my baggage has led to significant struggles for me in my relationships as an adult. i could never keep a steady girlfriend in my earlier days. it was just a long string of sex partners with NO STRINGS ATTACHED; at least from their perspective. the one thing i know about myself is that i always give part of myself to whomever i share a bed with. and it always hurts the same way when it eventually comes to light that they don’t feel the same way i do. i fucked around and caught feelings. it’s time to let this puppy dog go. and so i’m forced to relive the agony i felt as a child when i was seemingly rejected for no good reason. enough times of this happening this way and i eventually just got the idea i must not be good enough for any of it. i then became bitter and resented every other person i saw in a seemingly happy relationship. i swore it off for a long time. no. fuck relationships and fuck marriage. it was all a lie anyway. people treat each other like trash anyway so what was the point? i didn’t realize just how lonely i’d become. i let my bitterness and hard heart take over. and i crawled so deep inside the bottle that i have only the stories my friends tell me of what happened. there’s no memory there. i was tired of being in pain. i was tired of being hurt. the walls went up and i lost faith in humanity. how could this loving God that i hear so many good things about allow such suffering? i thought, if He cared for me, this wouldn’t have happened. i became so self-absorbed that i failed to realize that 100% of the current problems i faced were all of my own doing.

so yea. i have serious trust issues. to say i’m fragile is an understatement. i have a hard time trusting my wife. my wife has seriously violated my trust in the past, and it has recently come to light that she’s violated my trust yet again. she admits it, and feels terrible. doesn’t change the fact that it HURTS with the pain of 1,000 burning suns. so yea. trust issues. and i’m now handling the situation sober. i’m happy to report that even though a situation like this has caused me to drink in the past, drinking is the furthest thing from my mind at the moment. i know it does not, nor ever will help me. i just needed to get this off my chest today. it kinda feels like the rug has been snatched from under my feet.

40 days without a drink. i think i’ll take another 24 hours!

-michael