I’m Better Now

This Friday is when it started. I’m barley getting out of it but it’s lingering.

I don’t really know what happened. But it has the attention of almost everyone. All eyes are on me. Is he ok? What’s going on? He needs help. Everyone is worried about him.

I didn’t mean to worry anyone. Specially not my mom. I honestly don’t feel like I should have, or like I did. I binge watched Pretty Little liars all weekend with out getting out of bed. For anyone this is something normal. Something another millennial would do. But I have history.

My mom asked me if I was ok Saturday. I told her I was. But we both knew I wasn’t. I was tired. Tired of it all. Honestly, I just wanted to be alone. I just wanted to breathe, I wanted to get out of my head and float away into the fake lives of the characters on my screen. I wanted to forget about mine.

I didn’t go to church on Sunday, which only added fuel to the flames. My best friend texted me. Asked if I was ok. I didn’t text him back until today. One of the Elders called me, said he was worried and my mother had mentioned something to him. I didn’t reply or call back until today. Told him I was fine, he asked if there was something he could do to help. I didn’t text back.

I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m done. It happened. I was a little sad let’s move on, I’m better now. I’ll be fine, I’ll be ok. Just like the last time.

I AM . . .

I have lived a double life for a while. (I am a mess). I go to church. I am a Jehovah Witness. You think you know them. But, you don’t know them well enough. Some rumors are true, others are created in the same room with fairy tales. The point is that I have been in and out of this organization for the past 5 years.

Who am I?

 

I am a God fearing son of a woman who raised two boys all by herself. She isn’t a bad mother, she loves her kids and loves God just as much. I am her son. I have friends in this organization that say they love me. We have history. We have fun, and they have been there for me in my hardest times. I am a good christian, that dated a very nice christian girl but sadly did not work out. I live my life in the eyes of these people as if I am an innocent angel that can do no harm and lives by all the laws of he bible.

I am a rebel and a hypocrite. I partied and drank hours before a church speech. I slept with men right after taking a suit and tie off after coming from a place that told me not to, that it is sin, and not what I was meant to do. I have friends out side of church that I love to death but am told no to speak to.

I am confused. Who am I? All my life I thought I was different. I felt something was not  ok. I never belonged. Up until last year I thought I was gay. I denied it at the start. I tried to change and it didn’t work. So why did I end up falling in love with a girl? Why did I have such a fond of being with her? When at the same time I saw guys the same way? Why? What do I want then? Who do I want? Who am I going to be?

I am a liar. I lie. I lie a lot. I lie to my best friend and tell him that he is the only one I talk to. That he need not worry about me, that I am not talking to anyone out of our religion. I lie to my mother when I go out with the “none believers”. I lie when I’m asked if I am ok. I lie to cover up past lies and lies to come. I lie to myself. I lie so much, I start to believe what I am saying is the truth, but I can’t find the truth.

I am messed up. I am an emotional mess. One week I am out of the universe happy, and the next colder than the dark. I will be the most bad ass confident person you will ever meet. I will also be the most quietest, shiest, hands-in-pocket young boy in the world. At times small things can trigger me to jump without thinking, other times the most serious things in life can’t even make me flinch.

I am scared. I don’t want to disappoint my mother. She is my everything. If she is not happy, I will not be happy. What will people say when they find out? If they do? What will they think? What will I do? Who will I run to? I will lose it all. Everything I lied so hard to keep. All those years. Will my none religious friends even want me? What if they feel resentment towards me for only running to them when I need them? Only when I don’t have any where else to turn to? Will they help? Will they be there? What if I am left on my own, what if I can’t find a way out? If I get trapped in my head? What if I can’t take it all? Then? Now? What if I make a mistake that will cost me everything?

Tattoo Removal

I bleeping love tattoos. I always wanted a tattoo when I was younger. I was always afraid to get one. Then when I went to college (yes I did go, it was a blink of an eye moment, but nonetheless I still went), I got my first tattoo. “Brave warrior” right on my left shoulder.

I got inspired by a Demi Lovato lyric. When I heard her song Warrior it spoke to me in the loudest way possible. I feel like I relate to that song so well because I have been through the thickest of mud and the hardest of concrete and I am still here. Sure, bruised, beat up, in pain, but HERE.

The day I got that tattoo, I nearly fainted. Or I did, can’t remember, but the rush was great. I loved it and I have loved it ever since. Then months later I got another tattoo near the crease of my arm/ elbow. In the same area I got another small tattoo in San Fran.

Those tattoos mean the world to me. They mean so much because I got them with friends that I cherish and I look back at those times and I smile because it was honestly one of the best moments in my life.

But sadly. When I went through my “I’m a virgin for God” phase I started the process of getting them removed, and till this day I still do. Even though I am getting them removed that doesn’t mean I regret them. Sounds like hypocrisy but give me a sec to explain.

Even though I go and come back from Church I still feel like getting them removed. Not the one on my shoulder though. That one is staying because it has a special meaning to me that no one can take away.

The process of getting them removed though. OMG. Ok just picture this, and this is as accurate as I can get ok? So lets just say you take a fork, yes a fork, and you go to your stove, the flames are blazing like they are welcoming you into hell, and you lay the fork there for a good ten minutes or so. Then you grab the fork, and start poking at your skin like there’s no freaking tomorrow. That’s how it feels to get a tattoo removed.

Oh, and get this, it gets better, every single time you go back it gets worse. That’s right, its like they left the dam fork an extra minute on the eternal flames of death.

Of course its not an actual fork that they use, its this little tiny cute laser that blasts into your skin. Lovely. It breaks down the ink in your skin so your body can take care of the rest and dispose of the ink when you use the Wiz Palace. It’s actually a beautiful process that lasts just about 3 years.

If you’re lucky enough maybe you had an inexperienced tattoo artist with cheap ink, so then your removal will be a walk in the park. If you went to a good tattoo artist who has amazing Mona Lisa work of arts and has that high end ink derived right from under the throne of Satan, then your walk in the park is going to be a 3 AM, getting mugged and beat up while also getting hit with a stick, then later peed on my a dog, type of walk. Wonderful.

If you want a tattoo just make sure you want that on you for the rest of your life. I know you already heard that a millions times, but I don’t give a dam bro, listen. You remember those dope shoes you bought that were over priced but you just had to have them because you wanted to be “the cool kid”. Or even if that wasn’t you, just picture those shoes or heels (for the ladies, whats up gurl) that you love, now its been years, they smell. They look worn out, they have this weird smell that is concerning, they’re drooping and now instead of “nice kicks man” you get “dang son can’t you afford new shoes?”

That’s a tattoo.


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It’s The Weekend Boi

I’m at my local Starbucks again because I live here now. I did not go to work today so its a good day. *Insert super cheerful hyped up music here*. I am semi worried about how my check is going to be when I see it next week, but I’ll worry about that later. You know, I’d rather be broke and happy, then have money and be stressed.

 

Today I have a very eventful day. One of my friends dog’s had puppies and I can’t wait to meet them. I was there for her dogs first days, I even have a picture of me with her. And now she’s all grown up and having puppies. Life moves so fast. *Gets emotional over dogs*.

 

 

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This is me with the beautiful little Bailey from two years ago

 

 

I’m also eating breakfast with her (the owner of the do not the dog lol). My diet has come and gone in these recent days. Meaning, that one day I stayed with it and the next I haven’t. But don’t worry! Its not like one day I’ll eat only veggies and the the next day down some fries and three tons of soda. No. I have been doing well and I have made my limits. I have also starting walking which is really relaxing. I like to walk alone, earphones in, music on max, and just forget about everything. Its nice, try it.

 

Also on today’s agenda. Looking for jobs. Ok that’s enough of that. 

 

At the end of the day, my church is doing this thing for the Death of Jesus (Easter type thing). So I’ll be attending that. One of my friends is having a dinner a little after and he invited me. I don’t know if I’ll go to be honest. I know they’ll have good food and I wont be able to contain myself. I might just go late that way I can go but still keep my diet integrity. Plus I love spending time with him and his family, just don’t know who else they invited. (Because I’m awkward meeting new people).

 

Tomorrow there is a church picnic as well. I’ll try my best to attend that but probably just arrive at the same time one of my other friends does because I need moral support just to be in public and around people. You guys ever get that? When you’re alone you’re weak but when you’re with your friends you really don’t give a dam? Maybe its just me, who knows. But that’s basically all I have to do. And then for Monday (which I hope never comes around) I’ll have to return to my work. Maybe JUST maybe, if I wish hard enough the building will be consumed by flames before I even have to return, but I know that’s a little stretch in reality. (My fingers are crossed though).


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Sorry God

I didn’t go to church. You know, I was debating weather to go or not. Sorry God. But I chose not too. Well, I didn’t technically choose. My mom said she was tired and didn’t sleep well so she wanted to stay home instead. (Our church does this thing where you can call in and listen through the phone I know, high tech). I mean gotta get that spiritual food some how, am I right? Hahaha.

I don’t know, I was feeling iffy. I don’t know if that’s a feeling or not, but that’s what I felt. Something about seeing my ex, just being around people and all.

So, usually when I get to my church, I go around saying hi to everyone. I walk in, scan the area, and go around shaking peoples hands (people are usually sitting, but I want to say hi so they don’t think I’m socially awkward which I am). When I’m done I sit and wait for it to start. There’s nothing bad about it. I really enjoy going. But sometimes, we’ll let’s not lie, most times, I just don’t want to talk to anyone, let alone shake their hand. Wow that was a lot of comas.

But I didn’t want to do that, at all. Lately I’ve been a shut in. It physically hurts to talk to other humans. I know I’ll get over it. I’ve noticed I’ll be social here and there then come back to my rock. That’s normal right? Let’s say yes.

My “don’t care” attitude is still on me like a brand new sweater. I love it. It’s warm, cute, and just the right size. But we’ll see how it gets after a couple of uses.