sad stories and honesty

i remember when trust went for free
Sold for a smile on the face of a fantasy
Truth found her home in the pages of fairy tales
Decadent words formed the phrases for dreams that failed
Now trust is a costly commodity
Giving it away is the mark of absurdity
And truth is a homeless traveler
Hoping in the night to be found

-38th parallel, who am i

honesty hurts like hell. the aftermath at least. i was hanging out with some guys last night, and we drifted into this deeply personal conversation. i got to talk about things that i never get to, either because they are too taboo, too awkward, or just i don't know... too sad.

it hurts a lot bringing things to the surface- thinking critically about things that bring me deep sadness. when those kinds of things are brought out, we have to face the reality that we have them. deep secrets, struggles, hard memories... now my challenge is that i don't want them on the surface. i want to go back to hiding them and trying to fix how i am on my own.

but thats stupid. i can't heal unless i accept my wounds, and stop trying to hide them.

so let me just say what i'm really thinking, then i'll tell you a story from my formative years - aka, a event that happened in my childhood that has shaped what i am today.

i hate myself. or i just don't like myself at all, or belive that i am capable of being loved. i approach my relationships with the assumption that i am going to be rejected, so i try to win the approval and affirmation of people. i try too hard to impress people, i think. anyway- here is a story i told last night.

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i was suspended in grade 7, for the first time in my life. i was at a new school, and i wasn't fitting in all thay well. the suspension was for some stupid reason- throwing gravel rocks at a kid who was making fun of me.

my parents were separated at the time, and my dad was living in an airstream trailor in a campsite on nanaimo's jinglepot road. i stayed there that night. when my dad got really angry, he would have this rage filled face. i knew when he had that face there was no way to reason with him. my dad made me feel like an asshole. like i had made some stupid mistake, getting suspended. it felt like i was getting punished because i didn't fit in at school. it wasn't my fault, it was just the way i was. nobody wanted me that day. nobody wanted to hold me and say "its ok... it's ok".

to this day i feel like every mistake reflects on me. i feel like i make mistakes because i am an idiot, a mess-up who will never get anything right.

two days later i went back to school. i was depressed, not using the word lightly. i was goofing off in class, chucking paper across the room, trying to score it into garbage cans. one of the pieces hit this guy in my class, who thought it would be funny to try and trip me after school. not because he didn't like me- it felt like he was trying to prove to me, and everyone else, how "un-cool" i was. after the kid tried to trip me i lost it, and just started wailing on him, kicking him and hitting him with my backpack. one of the teachers saw us and pulled us inside.

so me and the guy sat in the "first aid" room -ironically. he was calm when he told his side of the story, i was a nervous wreck, trying not to break down. i was told i was going to be suspended again- and all i could do was accept it.

i had to ride the school bus that day- to further add insult to what had happened. i was walking home, just terrifyed and weak, and this guy from my class pushed me down- and i didn't stand up. i just lay on the ground crying. i didn't care anymore. i cried for about ten minutes before dragging my sorry ass home. my brother was trying to comfort me- but i didn't want his comfort. i wanted to cry, and feel like i was allowed to- because that was better than feeling like i was not allowed to feel sorry... or something like that.

i was suspended five times that year. my dad wasn't as angry everytime. i just felt more and more like a loser everytime. i couldn't win.

theres one more story. my class was set to take a week long sailing trip, to celebrate graduation. one of my suspensions was handed to me three days before the trip- for some stupid reason i can't remember. i was told that i wasn't allowed to go. i didn't argue. i accepted it. i just went home and hid under a couch, trying to hide from myself.

i thought that i didn't deserve the trip. i thought i was an idiot, a faggot, and a loner, and because of that i was destined to make screwed up mistakes, and have to live with them. i still don't think i deserve it. i don't think i deserve anything good in my life. on the other hand, i didn't deserve the rejection either. there was a lot of guilt that year.

anyway. thats a chapter of my life. thats me. i've come a long way since then, and i still have a long way to go. thats one sad memory realized- now i can move on to others. one thing i've realized is that i can't fix myself. i have to depend on Christ. i have to reflect on the promise that Christ will never "leave" me or "forsake" me. thats a challenge i'm facing today. (this journal entry is way too long).


Honesty is a hard attribute to find
When we all want to seem like we've got it all figured out
I may be the first to say that I don't have a clue
I don't have all the answers
And God I pretend like I do

-lifehouse, trying.