Story #346

I am a INTJ male who is currently suffering ego death.

I am realizing that the world around me is fabricated, shattered and torn whole by the loss of my vestige. She left me after 3 years of complete dedication. It has been a month, and my mind is still reeling from the fact I can’t fall asleep next to her again, nor share a laugh, hold her hand, touch feet as we sleep..

Here is my entirety. I am a compulsive liar, so I will tell you fact about me firstly, then elaborate so that way I am avoiding lying to you.

I am 21 Years old. I was born in Concord, NC in 1996, to C. P. and an unknown father. I grew up under the name of Price for 2 years, as my father was abusive, controlling and a drug addict. After several attempts on my mothers life and mine, she fled under witness protection to Kentucky. After a few years, My step-father entered the picture. At the age of six, I had already experienced Alcohol, Homosexual rape, loneliness, and loss. It seems tiny, comparitively in my mind, but I had to watch my childhood pet be put down, and buried. That was my first loss.

In 2004, I moved to Fort Sill, OK. Here I reside currently, and this is where my story takes a darker turn. My life was shook as my parents were still in their 20’s and partying. Booze was an all-time factor in my life, and to this day I can remember the sounds of soldiers fighting outside my window, the sound of glass breaking, and wondering if someone was going to come into my room and hurt me at 2 in the morning.

They did their best to raise me, put me on a pedestal. I came into my academic talents early at this point, throwing myself into school and achieved the top scores of my class, almost exclusively Sciences. I was put in the G&T program, and later advanced to MENSA, and International MENSA.  My parents never let this bar down, and held me to achieving my best, although my talents only went so far.

In 2006, Mother had a breast reduction done by Dr. Nuveen, as per back problems. After 5 grueling days in the living room, we discovered massive internal bleeding. He had left a Artery in the back open, and leaking into her chest cavity. This condition developed into something worse, and due to my childhood knowledge, I to to this day don’t remember what it is. She ended up dying on the table, for a recorded time of 1 Minute, 45 seconds. I was sitting outside the room when this happened. I heard the flatline, and I ran into the bathroom. Too weak to express my anger, too strong to crumple. I sat in that room screaming anguish. I knew what that sound meant, but she came back. I plead with a god I didn’t and don’t believe in then. I’ve only ever done it 3 times in my life. This was the first and only time it was about my mother.

Later, after a troubled high school, drugs, amateur crime, depression and self harm, I developed into the man I am today, who somewhat collectively gathered himself. I moved out at the age of 17, graduated at 18, and got my own place with a roommate in 2014.

2014 was possibly the worst year for me, save for one thing. I met this girl, named Andrea K. We began dating through my friend Dean, who was her cousin. During 8th grade, I flirted with her and then fell asleep and my friend got nudes and spread  them, sadly, so she hated me throughout high school. I got her to listen to my story, and she forgave me. Not the last time that would happen..

Either way, after sacrificing special time with my family and loved ones, my Grandmother passed away at 6:55 in the morning on Nov 4. She was the one who was there when my parents were. She showed me what compassion, knowledge, and what listening can do for someone. She showed me how considering other’s thoughts mattered, and how wise it was to try to understand, even if you don’t want to.

My world crumpled in 2014. She was with me until April 3, 2015. In December I hurt her badly, I broke her little heart. She was weak, and I knew it, and still, the one rule she had was I don’t masturbate. Which, I find biologically necessary but still, I lied to her every day about it.

She left me, and I wanted her back. The want drove my inner self to the walls. I cracked in May, on the 16th, her birthday, and went suicidal. I sliced my wrists 159 times on each arm, up and down for results kids, sideways for punishment. Punishment for my sins. I spent a week faking happiness and rightfulness to my Therapists, who gave me pills to make me robotic, but couldn’t break my inner walls, so I continued my depression. After getting out, it took 2 days for me to start slicing myself again. The anxiety and sin built up underneath my skin caused me to bleed it out. I lost count halfway through the tears, and frenzied myself. I was admitted again, and got out June 6th, 2015 again, and moved into my friends Blakes after finding solace in my parents. 3 months later, they left, and I swallowed close to 1.5 grams of pills. The lethal dose for Trazodone is close to .4. I remember eating those pills out of my puke, wanting to die so badly. I ate every single one, and passed the fuck out. The next day I woke up, puked three times, then went back to sleep, unable to walk. The second day, I woke up and my eyes wouldn’t follow where my brain was telling them to go. I thought I was suffering my sacrifice of not being able to man up and end it. I was going to die a slow death. I remember a golden light telling me to wake up, so I did. I got back up. A couple of days later she texted me again. It started out slow, and I loved it. I had my precious back. My entire world. My galaxy. I do not exist without her in the center..

For that reason, when we got back together Sept. 16, 2015, I dedicated every piece of myself to this girl. Even if I lust for another, I never chase. Even if I look, I do not touch. I can want, but know I shall never have. For the solution to all was her. I found happiness, solitude, gratefulness, a reason to wake up, in her.

We fought quite a lot. I won’t lie, it’s mostly my fault, since I ruined her sense of trust and love, however I will say I took her happiness, I was, am, a selfish person. I make rash decisions, and the internal part of my mind only cares about this vessel of my body wants.

We both found dedication and love in eachother though. I wanted nothing more than waking up next to her every day, and everyday so far this month, as of July 9th, 2017, I have been without.

I sacrificed my parents moving to Maryland in 2015, when we weren’t together, for her. I sacrificed time with my grandmother, for her. I asked her to marry me, for her. I worked, got up, despite my self hate, my desire to lie down and die, to give up every day. She means the world to me, and now that we’re apart, I have lost my drive. I have no desirable skills. I have no wants, no needs, nothing that people want or need, excluding my ability to DM in D&D, that’s the only want. People like me because I get good at my passions. That’s it.

So here I am, again for a third time in my life, suffering loss. It is a feeling I hate. I have a loss of purpose, a loss for reason to sustain myself. I feel like wasting away. To commit suicide, and leave this nonpeaceful life away from me. I do not want to want her and she spurn me, to find another man.

It hurts man.
I’m broken. I have no will anymore. No drive. No purpose. I am ready to give up.
The only reason why I’m venting is to last long enough to visit my family, and on Oct. 4th, when I get back home, I’m going to do it. I’ll have seen my little brother, my mother, my father. I’ll have given him a memory to hold onto, to happiness, and to have held my mother like she held me when I was scared as a child. I’ll have shook my fathers hand as a man.

As a human being, I am stepping over the cliff soon. I cannot wait to fall, and see where I land.

Thank you for listening. You don’t have to draw me a picture.

– Zack, Lawton