I thought about deleting the entries prior to this. I have been able to slide back into my own dreamworld again though. I realised this morning that the only way for me to keep it and manage it, is to write about it. I am sorry to say why I wanted to delete it. But essentially, if anything happened to me, or I allowed it this life to end, someone would ask why and they might find this place on the laptop.
I read something from Humans of New York yesterday and it was the right sentiment. I didn't do the same thing but it is the same feelings as I've had: https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/photos/a.102107073196735.4429.102099916530784/735002979907138/?type=1&theater
When I thought about taking the sleeping pills, it was just the same as sitting on the beach for three days. When I thought about allowing myself to fall, it was the same thing. But looking at the innocent passers by that might see me go, that was on my mind. Not that I would have actually stood on the wall by the cliff and fallen - It would not have been just them either. The train tracks are down there too.
Perhaps, in my own confused way, I'm wishing a death to the way of life - not the life. The way that can be changed. I lack the courage to change it. Or I don't want to hurt anyone. And I wonder that if I go so far and hurt her, and then find it is for nothing - another strange dream of freedom.
Sex can't free me. I know that. It only ever held me back. The reasons for my dark thoughts are so many now.
It is not accurate to say that I sometimes remember things. I remember everything, probably. But things are not brought to the fore in my mind until I'm ready for them. And the small things are very significant in that moment. One small thing I thought about was in that room when I was 10 and the fire was burning. He asked me to put my hand in the fire . I will admit, the memory is vague and from a long time ago. He may have done it himself to show me. Even at the time, I would have perhaps thought he was teasing me. I knew the fire was dangerous but a part of me also knew that there was a way to do it without getting burned. And I might have thought a lot about that in the days that followed until another childhood distraction replaced it. But now, whether accurate or not, I see the sinister nature of that challenge. Would I do what he told me to do or would I question it? I know it sounds bizarre. I know it may mean nothing at all - it was just a trick to play on a child. But my mind can't help asking if this was part of the whole thing.
On my 6k walk, the one I take quite often, I cried most of the way. I cried because I was re-evaluating my life and my relationships. And it was hard to look at myself as following a pattern. It felt as though I were trapped. And I have always felt that way when I remember that room. I looked into that fireplace all the time. I grabbed the poker from that fire place and I hit him with it. So I remember the fire well. And I remember him asking me to touch the flame. He might have done it. I told him there was some trick. And at the time, I thought he was trying to trick me in his cruel way. He was cruel to my brothers, and he put salt on my food when I wasn't looking. So I knew he could be crafty and sly. But he was testing me always. He was always seeing how far he could go - puzzles and stories all disguised to work things out. The fact is, maybe he wasn't aware of what he was doing. But he had an instinct for it. Maybe it was just an old man being mischievous. But the fact remains, the games went to far one day, and I hit him with the poker on the legs. And I remember feeling strong because he was older and I know that it hurt and I wanted to keep beating him.
He is now dead of natural causes and has diluted into earth and grass. I am alive and unhappy and thinking about sleeping.
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