Am I The Human Blasphemy?
Smile?
I think it’s something that is taken for granted. Smiling. Last night in the space of seconds I lost the ability to smile. In the very same way that years ago when my depression was at its peak, it felt like I was washed over in a sea of almost tangible sorrow. Last night I sat alone in the bedroom. Then it happened in seconds, literally just seconds. I was filled with some crushing sadness and my eyes welled right up and I felt like I didn’t just want to cry but almost like I needed to? Like the tears are some bad blood and I need to blees them out of me. I didn’t cry. I just read.
It felt like the world could have ended around me at that moment and I wouldn’t have noticed. It was consuming in a way that it hasn’t been for years.
I thought about myself. I thought that I don’t feel like a proper man. There are criteria I just don’t fill and it hurt me because no matter what way I tried to reason it, I couldn’t explain it away.
I don’t feel especially masculine. I felt like if I had a chance to prove myself, I would fail. Nobody wants a failure. It seems bizarre but I’ve always thought that a measure of a man can reasonably be erm measured by his actions, good or bad, what he does to turn the bad into good. To move on and learn from his mistakes.
IF…
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
‘Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
Always makes me well up every time I read that. I like to think I’ve not made many mistakes. Those I have made (99.9% related to women), though very many corrected, weigh heavily on my mind. I’m a different person now, which is a lie. I’ve just grown up and come to understand my few strengths and many weaknesses. I’ve changed to know now when I’m being used or it’s never going to work, when she or I is bored and it will save a lot of pain hopefully. Unless something like last night happens and a cloud washes over me, in which case it all looks grim. Even though it may not be. I need to man up. Note to self: winning the biggest bycep competition with your work mates in the pub last week, doesn’t count. It doesn’t define a man. There is no gun show, it was cancelled when nobody bought any tickets.
I don’t feel attractive either. I have no self confidence. I want to feel attractive and Lord, maybe even sexy. I want to be desired. I don’t want to think that when one if your colleagues smiles at you it’s a pity smile because she has a masters in fashion and you look a mess. You’ve wore black non stop, every day for 12 years, am I mourning my innocence? Probably.
Was it because my school crush decided I wasn’t too bad, gave me my first ever blow job and then took my virginity? On the day of your English gcse and you still got on A? Did you peak then? Was it all downhill there? The glory and the innocence tapered off certainly. The frequency of blowjobs and sexdid at an alarming rate after that. Then it was just a string of being used. Having sex demanded of me 5-6 times a day or like 6-7 times in a row. Coming home to find open condom wrappers in the draw even though you didn’t use them because she had the dermal implant and she liked the feeling of keeping it all inside, multiple times. I was just being used, it was "I want it now." Lord help me if I couldn’t get it up because as we all know, being shouted at for it is a huge turn on. That was the same story for a few ex’s. Once they realised they didn’t have to give me pleasure to get it, they stopped giving and I thinking if I gave more would be more likely to receive. All I received was a string of painful and sometimes messy memories. Yay for being broken!
I go off making the effort to wear something other than black or don’t feel like any compliments (if any) are genuine or even sex because I don’t feel good enough. I feel like I’m just a disappointment. My looks, personality, charisma and techniques are all flawed. I used to be confident, make people laugh, have charisma and techniques in the bedroom that worked.
Now I feel clumsy and ugly. Inept and a little ashamed. I need help I think.
Though I thought finally getting a job would make it better. I love my job. I’m doing ok with it. I got to manage 2 whole departments out of the 10 departments for QA in the business. It’s a job of a QA manager and I’ve only been there 12 weeks. I’ve an order book in 6 figures. The group QA & compliance manager (the head of QA for all our offices in 6 countries) said he see’s me in his seat in a few years. The HR and Process development directors are impressed that that I’ve been reworking processes and improving communication between departments off my own back which is saving the company a lot. The HR director said things like this don’t go unnoticed. The Process Development director said he’s already scared I’ll end up in his seat too!
I held a meeting yesterday to develop a process which adds a lot of security and vastly improves communication between QA and the most high risk buying department who make several hundred thousand a month, I was their only QA contact. It was literally the Buying manager, the sourcing specialist and me running the department. They bought it, got a sample, I tested it,inspected the deliveries and then said whether or not they should pay the full amount or send it back and ask for the deposit back.
Now there is inspection forms to please the bug bosses and a new process im developing to ensure nothing gets missed which will cost us and we make a tonne of money and everyone gets trained.
I should be confident about this because it’s good work but outside of the office I feel weak and insignificant. Undesirable. I know inside the office, the company will probably take all my work and give me nothing for it as it is a business. That’s just how businesses are. Heck even in the office i feel undesirable. Everyone is snart and good looking and then there is me. Yay for being broken!
It’s usually times like this I feel I’m not happy. I just feel frustrated. I’m uncomfortable as myself. It feels like for the first time I’m getting a little confidence, if not stressed under the pressure of doing the job of a guy with 30 years QA experience, except I have 12 weeks and it’s peak months. Though I know the confidence is hollow because when I swipe out of work I’m a less than regular Joe. The last person to be sat next to on the tram.
I come home and Eve finds me annoying. I feel like I’m letting her down which makes me feel crap. I feel like I’m just not good enough for her. For anyone or anything really? I know I’m not the best boyfriend she has ever had. We’ve talked about it and I’m cool with that because you can never beat the first love. I don’t think I had one, I just got used. Start as you mean to go on eh?
I feel like I’m unlovable too. I think it’s because of how broken I am. Kind of like a porcelain figure. I see myself in many little broken pieces on a shelf that won’t fit back together properly. I feel flawed. Though as I would never try to replace Eve’s first, it becomes almost achievable try and be a good boyfriend, because though I strive to be the best, it just comes across as sloppy and bumbling. It just feels more confident. Though I have the knowledge or rather the feeling that I can’t satisfy her in all aspects of the relationship (given my lack of confidence in myself, my personality and with regards to sex I feel I can’t deliver of late) it crushes me. I just want the people I care for to get everything they want or need from me. I know it’s impossible but the quest for it is tearing me apart. I’ve had ex’s tell me over and over how shit I am as a man and a boyfriend because I turned more into a slave, physically and sexually. It was just the way they were. Heck I’m not saying I’m the perfect man, far from it but my point is I try and I think my ex’s resented that I wouldn’t bow to their princess complex fully, though I was just an entourage and fuck toy. It’s like they perceived something victim like in me which explains their actions. .
I feel broken and torn. I need to be stitched up. I think I shall have to go the doctors for a chat.
Sorry this has been depressing.
Much Love
(S)ain’t