A Man Only a Mother Could Love

By nature I’m an emotional person. When I feel happy, I am ecstatic, and when I am down, I feel terribly lost and alone. I realized some years back that as hard as I try to change that or “fix” it, that it is my nature, and that I could either reject it or embrace it. That’s an easy thing to do when I am feeling myself, but in those moments where insecurities and doubts crop up, it’s a struggle to pull myself out of it. It often starts like it did last night, with the onset of a cold or a tummyache or what have you, as if my body’s energy is too busy fighting germs to keep my brain healthy too.

In my college years, I suffered from a very severe depression–one that landed me in the hospital thirteen times over the course of three years. During that time, I took countless medicines, saw countless therapists, and was told many different things. It’s a time I wouldn’t wish on my own worst enemy: a suicide attempt, self-mutilation, and probably gallons of shed tears are the memories I have to show for that time, and it’s what responsible for a failed music career, lost friends, and many lost years.

I am not sharing that to elicit sympathy, only to give context. Over the course of many years, I became more comfortable with myself and more able to avoid the downward spiral, and in time, the number of smiles outweighed the number of tears. Those years are now part of who I am; they don’t define me, but they are woven into the person that I am now, a person I am not always happy with but one that desperately wants to do the right thing in anything I do and somehow come out happy on the other end. And for the most part, I’ve managed pretty well. But sometimes, circumstances come together and I do manage to feel insecure and scared, and today is one of those days when the feelings have welled up for no given reason, just the facts of daily life.

It didn’t help that my mom Googled my name and inadvertently discovered the disrespectful wonders of the gaming world. Choice goodies revealed plenty of gamer hate over one thing or another, and my mother was flabbergasted that such things can be said about her son. I tried to explain, but of course, such a thing is lost on a reasonable, proper-thinking adult. Honestly, I can’t truly understand myself, having never been remotely likely to put nasty comments about some game reviewer in a forum signature, or spreading hate on message boards about how someone should be fired or killed. How do you tell your Mom why people hate me but don’t know anything about me? How do you tell someone that the quality of your heart or your character is meaningless to someone that only cares that a game they love got an 8.5 instead of a 9?

You don’t–you just move on and try not to think about it too much.

It doesn’t help that it’s been a month now that my stepdad left my mom, out of the blue. No problems, no arguments, everything seemed fine. And then boom. It has torn up my mother, and because I love her so much, I share that pain with her.

At times like this too, I tend to feel alone, and I wish Chris were here just to hold me, but even then, I get scared, because experience tells me if you get too clingy, the one you love pulls away. He’s felt distant lately, but whether that’s true or a figment of my overactive imagination, I can’t tell. In all truth, it’s likely just me. For the most part, we’ve simply had a great time, and I haven’t burdened myself with worries and analysis. On a day like today, I wish more than anything for reassurance, but as much as I want to tell Chris what I am feeling today–alone, insecure, unloved–I am more worried that I would just push someone I love away or sound needy and unreasonable. How do you weigh the need to be comforted by someone you love with the fear that asking could be the worst possible thing?

It’s another question that in 35–almost 36–years, I don’t know the answer to any better than any of the other questions. Maybe it’s best to move on and not think about that one too much, as well.

Goodness, this all reads very emo. Perhaps I should leave on a happy note:

~ by fiddlecub on March 12, 2008.