2008-09-10 - 7:03pm
Jack Is Not The Bottom
When someone you love decides to give up and hit bottom there is nothing you can do to stop them.
But what do you do when they think you are bottom.
Only you bottom out.
Because you are weak and can not even support yourself.
The funny thing about the bottom is it never really ends.
There is always something else below.
There is always the threat of falling.
And always somewhere worse just below you.
Something lurking. Waiting to happen.
And if you wait patiently enough, it will.
Sitting in a dark hopeless apartment, with no lights and no gas. I don't know how you let this happen. I did not know it was that bad. This is not the you I know. Intelligent. Infinitely resourceful. Independant. A clever survivor. The first Tyler I ever knew.
I do not even know you now.
I do not understand.
In some ways I do. There was a time when I thought that maybe down was really the way up. The funny thing is, we all have our own ways of finding our way to the bottom. Our own ways of undermining and destroying ourselves. No one can tell us any different. They just don't understand. It has to be this way.
This is salvation.
This is the way out.
The way home.
The way down.
This is part of why I resisted getting help for so long. In my mind I knew what I was doing.
We all have our own ways to get to the bottom.
Unfortunately yours lead to me.
You want me to save you. Save you from your life. Save you from everything that I have given up trying to save myself from.
You let yourself fall.
You blew it all up.
You have a lot more courage than me.
You believed in me.
You believed in me like some sort of god. A god that could be manipulated into answering your prayers.
Only it didn't quite work out the way you planned.
These things can backfire.
I am not the bottom.
You wanted it to be fun. You wanted it to feel like Fight Club, but with all the comforts of home.
You would hate it here. Until you made me hate it here.
Maybe I make it look fun.
I don't know how my life is balanced or why it works.
I think you hate me for having low standards.
I think you hate me because you did everything you are supposed to do. You went to school. You got your fancy pedigree papers. You got the job. And none of it was worth fucking shit. It didn't make you happy. It drove you out of your fucking head. It made you sick.
I dropped out of college. I work my shit job. I live in a bad neighborhood in a small apartment. There is no air conditioning and one bedroom does not have power. I live off cereal and coffee. And it works for me.
I would not call myself happy but right now things are not bad.
Outside of myself, life is decent.
And it kills you.
And it kills me that you probably hate me.
And it kills me. The things you said about me. Because some of them are true.
I had to hang up on you. I would not stand there and take any more abuse. I never thought I would slam a door in your face. But I had to. Even at a time like this. I had to.
My chest aches.
My heart feels strained.
I feel sick.
Like I have a fever.
Immediately after I hung up I had to call everyone I knew. My landlord. My therapist. My old roomate. I had to know I was not a horrible person.
I had to hear that it was not my fault. That I was not responsible for you.
I kind of felt like going to confession. Only I would not hide behind the screen. I wanted it to be like therapy. I wanted to be absolved. If anyone could tell me I was not a bad person, it would be a priest. Even if I do not go to church anymore. Even if I don't have a religion.
I do not even know how to begin to start dealing with this.
You could be doing anything right now.
It's going to be a long night.
Jack's Hypervigilence - 2008-09-17
Jack Hears Through A Friend He Is Not Hated - 2008-09-12
Jack Is Missing Half Of Himself - 2008-09-12
Jack Is Crushed - 2008-09-11
