I think I have lost sight of the point, the reason why. I don't get the point of recovery anymore, I mean...once you start fighting, you are always going to be fighting. It's not like one day you wake up and realize you don't have to fight anymore. So what's the point? Why fight? As long as it doesn't go "too far" who cares right? It's not like recovery gives you some kind of reward for staying in recovery...woo a day, a month, a year, 10 years...you don't get a break from fighting for a day so you can celebrate; you don't get a new car or something, you just wake up and fight again like always.

Ok so this is me thinking. later

oh PS. if you read this, could you leave a comment with minimum of your name (initials/ Id mark), I'm rather curious as to my audience.

The things I wish I could tell you

Every time I hear you talk about all the stuff you believe; it comes off as hate. I do think you are a fucking racist, prejudicial prick. I don't believe that you "act racist" and shit because you want to get a rise out of me; I just think that you are in denial of the prejudice and hatred you hold.There is so much I want to tell you, but there is a part of me that is afraid you will kill me after you find out. I would like tell you that all my life I have thought you were a pansy because you have never stood up and told mom that she needs help, you have always just fucking said shit like "that's how she is" and just justified her actions. When I was little, before I realized that you were such a fucking pansy, I respected you. You were my hero. And since then...you just keep loosing my respect.Right now, I kind of of want to be able to tell you what June 13th or August 28th means to mean. There is a part of me that would love to be able to celebrate the 10 and a 1/2 months that I have gone with you. Part of me wants to tell you that when you make comments about me eating, that it makes me feel SO ALONE because I already feel like I disappoint mom because of her comments, so when you say stuff like she does...it hurts soo bad.I wish I could tell you that it hurts every time that I think of my future, because I know that if you never find out that you will no longer be a part of my future...I'm scared to loose your love because there is a part of me that still would like to see you as my superman...the guy who used to carry me to bed after falling asleep on your pillow, the guy who protected me from the thunder and lightening, and the guy who used to call me your "angel".Every time you talk to your friends and and they ask if I am with anyone and you tell them that I am keeping my options open and stuff; I want to tell you that I have been in love once and that I hope one day I can be again. I wish I could tell you who it was, but I don't ever see that happening.I wish I could tell you why I just roll my eyes when someone in the family asks me why I am not married or makes some dumb assed comment about a "hot guy". I wish I could tell you how much it hurts when you say hurtful, derogatory, and hateful things about gay people....I wish I could tell you why it hurts so much. I am gay. I'm never going to have the ideal life you thought I would have. Yet I am afraid you will never hear these words...and if you do as I have already said, I am terrified that you will hate me, that instead of being your angel that I will be come a demon in your eyes, or worse yet that you will see it as an attack to your faith and that you will think you will have to defend it.I used to love you, to respect you; and now, now I don't know. Sometimes I wish I could go back to the days when superman was here.I'm ok with me and I wish i share me with you

sing or not to sing

I think I might have realized something today. For the first time in several months, I actually sang during church. And the first thing I realized is that I loved singing, and I love singing even out side the confounds of "praise and worship", I just love singing. I also realized both of the reasons that caused me to quit singing firstly "praise and worship", then "Christian" music, and finally any song. If I were asked why I never sang, I would say that it was because it was too painful; that it reminded me of the dreams I would never have. But to myself, which I didn't really admit to til today, I would say that 1. I couldn't sing P&W/Christian music anymore because to the extent that I don't trust God, I don't believe/relate to those songs. 2. There was/is a part of me that thinks that I don't have the right to sing those songs, that I'm no longer worthy. and 3. the reason the singing extended to any song...well I don't know why it spread there.
But back to how today connects. While singing, I felt good. I also realized because of that feeling that singing was part of the reason I used to enjoy church. But today I came back to the idea of just singing because I like to sing; not because of anything else, not because it's what you do in church or anything, but just for the pure love of music and singing.

Ok so I don't know if any of this makes sense but yea.
later

I was checking my twitter today and came across this tweet posted by Jennifer Knapp "Those who speak so eloquently of grace seem to have experienced it's true need". I am assuming this was directly from her and not something she heard given then lack of quotes around it; but I have no idea and that isn't the point.
When I saw this, it struck a cord in me that goes beyond just the concept of grace that is mentioned. It seems as though anytime anyone speaks of something so passionately and with such beauty, whether it be the concept of grace, love, friendship, or whatever; it seems that they really get how much it is needed not so much just by those who are listening but also by themselves.
It is these moments, when the speaker truly seems to grasps his or her own need for the topic that I have been moved so deeply. And it is these type of moments, these pure honest moments that seem to become landmarks (in a way) in my life.

I hope this makes sense. I don't feel that I have expressed myself well or enough; but this is all I have really got.

As my last post indicates. I have been thinking about SI and other bad things a lot this week. I think it is primarily due to the fact that I am extremely stressed out right now; but still the fact remains. And in particular I have been thinking about Bob. Sometime in October or November of this year will be the 5th year since I've seen Bob and as of August 28th it will have been the last time we...talked and stuff. Anyway, the last few days I have been thinking about all this, even to the point of dreaming about it; and right now....only the good things are really coming to mind.
I know at some point when my mind clears I will remember the bad times Bob and I had and how if I ever see him again that the odds are that he will kill me. But right now, all I can manage to think about is his sweet, comforting scent....and well the good things I found in our time together. And today it all kind of converged with the thought that one time in an entire year isn't bad...and since it can't be Bob that it will be even less bad.
LOL I have even thought that maybe giving in just once, whether with Bob or his friend, might make me feel bad cuz I broke my only real goal for the year...so I even contemplating pissing someone off so that they would beat me up...then I couldn't feel guilty for breaking my promise to myself.
And right now, distractions aren't even helping with trying to get my mind off him.

Thoughts from Tuesday

Today I looked up some psychology articles, out of curiosity, on self-injury; and because I thought that if I was going to think about that today, I might as well try to be constructive with it.
One article published this year said that a big problem that self-injurers have is an inability (or not enough ability) to regulate emotions; aka they are very impulsive. "Duh" right? (or at least that is what I thought when I read it). Well, anyway. In this study they examined the difference between current self-injurers and those that have been in recovery for a year (they haven't hurt in at least a year). And they found that those in recovery had increase perseverance and premeditation (being about to stick it out and to see the consequences before hand).
Another study looked at the correlations between thoughts (amount and intensity) and action of self-injury and found that more intense thoughts as well as increased thoughts increased the likelihood to self-injure.
So, these got me thinking. I wonder if recovery takes away thoughts over time or if people just get better at thinking it through and sticking it out through the urge?

This is a stupid post

Ok so I was just watching Mona Lisa's smile, and I found myself staring at Julia Robert's lips and I thought "what the crap? they are just lips!" But then I starting to thinking about the different people I have been attracted to in the past; and most, not all, but most have more full lips.
I think I am going to have to edit my attraction list
1. Eyes
2. Hair
3. Lips

LOL ok yeah I'm a dork but I though this information was amusing enough to share so yea.