"lost things"

 WARNING:

incorrect grammar & fat rambling ahead

I find myself obsessing over lost or potentially lost things..

-photos

-childhood toys

-emails

-passwords

-clothing

-funny videos

-memories

Parts of me are stressed that I am so disorganized in my photos, with duplicates, multiple accounts,

& screenshots of random things I don’t need. 

I had to ask myself why it bothers me so much.

I had to ask why once the obsessions start, I struggle to not let the thoughts control me.

I feel disorganized in my life.

If ONLY I could find every stray thing out of line and put it all back in it’s place.

Maybe life would make sense if I could cross every T and dot every I.

If I could have all my ducks in a row. 

Life is so complicated and messy. I can’t stand it.

The thought of losing things exhausts me. It feels like a waste when something is lost.

Loss of money, time, material, happiness. It feels dirty, unorganized, inefficient.

Recycling stresses me out.

I stress about checking everything to see if I can recycle it before throwing it away. I stress about throwing anything away.

What I am throwing away is creating more loose ends all over the world.

I stress about my imprint & impact I am leaving on the world.

The people & animals I am and could be hurting.

I feel like pieces of myself are strewn about infinite places &

it’s impossible for me to find them all and put them in their place. And do it correctly. 

I feel that if only I could organize & clean & find & solve all physical objects in my life & online

that any emotional pain will be gone. That I will have life figured out. That life would be solved for me.

That I could handle anything in my way. That I would be happy.

That I could whip out that funny puppy video to show my brother

because it was already organized into a folder in my phone.

That I could post for everyone's birthdays and events because all their photos are already

there ready for me. I feel what if the lost relationship with my brother would be made whole?

What about Sydnee’s too?

I want to see my life organized in photos in front of me.

That I can have an actual representation of time in front of me.

Laid out in photos with dates & times.

That I would have an actual representation of how things were and are going.

It feels so nice to understand how the months move into making a whole year now.

Having awareness of what is going on around me makes me feel so connected, grounded, grateful,

and excited to continue. Peaceful. Not until recently. Not until 25 years old did

I finally start getting an inkling into what the hell was happening with life. And with me. 

I feel like I got dropped into life with a bunch of broken pieces in the shape of memories

and I need to put them all together to figure out what life means and how to have a good one.

I already failed. I am so stressed about that. What happened to me in all those 25 years of life.

Why can't I remember? Why was I so slow to finally learn how to learn?

Why did it take my brain so long to heal? Why do I struggle to do what's good for me?

Why can't I connect with lady friends? 

Is there a way beyond this? Is there peace for me? Here? 

I always tell myself. What if there was a fire that burned away everything and I am left with nothing.

What would I do? How would I feel? I worry if I lost those things. Would I lose me?

Would I lose myself and not know how to be me again? 

As a teenager to cope with my life I would organize and clean obsessively.

That is how I learned to cope with what is around me. That’s what my dad did.

Now he’s in prison. That’s what mom did. Now she is alone. I could go on. Why am I so hurt?

What about us?

Here’s the thing dad, they don’t need to know they received an email first off. They can feel all kinds of emotions without knowing they received an email and here’s why: 

How do you think you and I are talking right now? All siblings got the same information that you wanted to talk to them or write them. What they choose to do all shows in their actions or lack of. That’s why I’m talking to you right now and B or E are not. If B or E wanted to know if you sent them something they would take the steps to find out. 

You can write them all you want. What you choose to do is up to you. 

When you consistently ask me to contact my siblings for you, I feel like you believe I don’t matter. That I am just a way for you to get what you want. I feel like you really don’t care about what I have to say, even when you ask. It seems you always have an agenda of what you want accomplish when speaking with me and not because you want to have a meaningful conversation where both sides benefit. I feel like I’m only taking to a businessman who wants to sell me stuff , instead of a loving father who cares. I feel like that is how you treat everyone in your life. And it is pushing us away. 

And it really sucked having a dad like that as a kid. It really really sucked. 

Everything you did was on your terms. When you wanted to see us, you didn’t ask if it worked for us, you DEMANDED IT.  Even when we wanted to seek refuge and have alone time you would barge in and then make fun of us or guilt trip us for trying to have boundaries. YOU could care less about boundaries which in turn shows you don’t respect us. Do you even value us? Do you only value that we can carry out something for you? What about our feelings dad? What about our experiences dad? What about our choices dad? What about our hopes and dreams dad? What about our future dad? What about us? 

It’s just your movie and we are all side characters and pawns in your story. When we would ever try to speak up we were not heard, or worse. We were mocked. You would mock L until she had a full on anxiety attack. You would push and push and push her until she emotionally couldn’t possibly feel safe and then you would make fun of her for it. Say that she was the crazy one. That you only wanted to spend time with her.  You would guilt trip us saying that we don’t care about you, and it made us wish we never even tried to care about you in the first place 

Your actions made me want to kill myself. I felt crazy. I felt like something was inherently, deeply wrong with me. That I was made incorrectly because I had such a hard time functioning. Or worse, that if I wasn’t made wrong that I fucked up my self on my own by my mistakes or lack of intelligence. That took years and years of my life away. All that time was dedicated to suffering. 

Couldn’t you see that there was something severely wrong with your family?

That 3 out of the 5 kids attempted suicide?

And that 2 suffered from deep depression? 

Or that your wife didn’t do things for herself?

Or was always mad at you? 

Or didn’t want to spend time with you or be near you? 

Or didn’t want to be intimate at all?????

Didn’t you see that something was bad?

Or did you just not care? 

Were you too busy carrying out your own plan to see how much pain we were all in? 

Wouldn’t you think that you needed to take a break from work and heal your family? 

Or be there for them for things
they wanted to do???? 

You told me it was because of my own sins that I was struggling with not wanting to be alive. 

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