.also, i am a twat
Joined: Jan 2008
I can't hold it in any longer, the ultimate conclusion is - FUCK IT ALL!?!
Most of this has little to do with Motorbikiní & is just me spewing out my inescapable sickness so you might just want to shuffle on byÖ
The rat boxer (referred to as the DMW because it is a BMW & my first initial is D) has now totally given up co-operating & I have nowhere to work on it other than a very rainy car park, which in all practical terms means I have nowhere to work on it, even putting aside the fact that I have minus budget. The electrics and induction set-up are well fucked somewhere along the line and it hates cold-starting to the point that it flattens the battery, which I have no way of charging. But itís come to a head because having just cut out to one cylinder 5 miles out* it then fucked out completely and left me to push it the last 2 rainy miles back to the sheltered housing I call 'The Place' where I 'live'... The simple reason behind why I have nowhere to work on it is because I am a unsociable & understandably dislikeable cunt. I call myself this every time I catch a sideways glancing view of myself in the mirror. Each time I donít find reason to disagree with myself. The tax on the bike is up at the end of March & the MOT shortly thereafter and thereís little point in renewing either on a bike that wants to quietly die so I think we can safely say that from here on in Iím going to be living in a place called íDunnridiní Ė Fuck it, Iím beaten. Itís over.
I deeply regret that the bloody thing didn't give me another massive heart attack (see last Aug) with all that pushing because I fucking really fucking have fucking had fucking enough. My chest is banging & bursting and I can only hope that the neat & tidy solution of death whilst sleeping comes to me soon. Please. Good grief please.
I have lost my only friend with whom I had regular contact of any depth and now just sit here day after day on tranqs, sometimes looking up at a picture of him printed on the Order of Service for his funeral stuck there on the wall, which has a small clump of mud from his grave taped to it. Heís looking at me in 2D form standing happily by an Airhead but heís not here any more. There is now nothing in the way of human contact and nothing that one could remotely call a social life, so I go nowhere because of who I am when I get there, and quite understandably no-one comes here because who in their right mind would wish to seek out contact with the blown out shit-storm that is Ďmeí? I donít blame them in any way, why would you wish to spend time with this? I donít.
I have no contact with my Parental Units as they are both lifelong useless & malicious cunts who persist in denial of my (5 year older) half brother sexually abusing me when I was eight, which I have previously discussed here. I do not have the fortitude or patience to work them towards any form of dialogue which is based on anything other than their self protecting resolute view that everything ever has always been entirely my fault. This of course means I have no contact with him either, but then unlike me (me, here, the total failure), he is a gregarious success graced with a triumphant career that took him to senior posts living in Turkey & Dubai and now leaves him in content & cashed up early retirement somewhere way west of here. But then he always was stupid enough to fit in with this bastard world. When I last told my Parental Units of the abuse they immediately (literally - a second) leapt into denial both of the event & me having previously mentioned it. It was, they immediately trumpeted, a delusion, then at some point later rung him to check & took him at his word. Perhaps he doesnít actually remember? I do.
Sorry for being so frank.
I have resolved that it is best that I withdraw from contact with my ex-wife & three children (16 & twins of 14) as the sum total of lamentable upset this will cause is, in my regretful estimation, less than that which would be caused by continued contact with me. I sorely know I'm not doing the right thing but it's all I can do because I just sit there being a sad sack of shit based on unshakable wretchedness, deep regret and the fact that I sorely want for a time machine & an increase in open sharing to remake what is irretrievably broken. I can offer them nothing but to parade my sickness & sadness before them. Thus I make them feel what I am told is uncomfortable & useless, which is their rightful & understandable reaction. Itís not the duty of children to be concerned with the happiness of a parent. I have failed them. I had planned for it to be all so different.
Around '92/'93 I sat on a railway line all night full of barb pills & rum waiting for the morning train to take me to hell, but I made a terrible mistake & persuaded myself that life could be different. That I could live another way & escape the 30 odd years of shit that I had trailed thru/ough. For 10 years I could sustain it and built a magnificent success, backed by the love of a good woman who deserved so much better than I. But in the end it wasn't possible to maintain Ďbeing someone elseí & now there are 4 innocents to be hurt by my ĎCancer Of The Personalityí style toxicity & predictable unrelenting decline. I should have waited for the train or for the pillsínípop to knock me away, because there was no one to be effected then. There was no ex-wife to have hurt, no children to emotionally damage. Love them as I do it's a crime to bring children into this shit world and I have blighted them with my faulty genes & failure as a parent.
For the sake of all that really matters I can only hope they find a way of being a better person than I am. They already have. I'm so very proud of them and have great confidence in their ability to transcend me & the hurt I have caused them all. The sum total of upset will be less than that caused by continued contact with me.
All vain attempts at meaningful creativity have come to nothing. Nothing in the sense of no success in trying to make a living out of this muck. The only time I succeeded at anything was when I was pulling in £37K p/yr producing opportunities for other people to do what I wanted to do myself. But also failure to do anything at all consequential, a complete inability to do anything that meant anything at all. All of that was just something I did while I could maintain the delusion that I was capable of anything. I have nothing in me, no-one wants me to participate in anything and to even let the thought of doing anything pass thru/ough my mind stings unbearably. All this accumulated failure hurts so vividly that I come to the point where it is clearly best not to even try. It was just an empty vanity anyway.
I am so fucking sick of being in this shitty little town where pretty much everything Iíve ever done wrong or fucked up is within 5 miles of me. Every day I go past countless places where Iím reminded of this or that dreadful mistake. Iíve lived elsewhere, Iíve travelled, and as tho/ough I were a modest Earthbound version of Roy Batty Iíve seen things you peeple wouldnít believe. But due to unfortunate circumstance & this unstinting sickness of the soul I ended up back here. And then I stayed here because I accepted that Iíd subsequently married a wonderful woman who wanted & needed to stay close to her family, who in turn had somehow ended up here as part of the Palestinian Diaspora. To be fair she told me on our second date, I knowingly went with it and it was clear it was part of her familial culture which I respect & envy, but I guess I didnít know how much it was going to effect me, especially when she (metaphorically) got the 14 year itch & her love was (totally understandably) gone. I watched the wedding video recently Ė where did that man go?
She always deserved better, and now that I am gone there is finally some happiness coming back into that home. We had attempted a reconciliation and even discussed me moving back in to the family home Iíd left because I had been too ĎBroke In Tha Braneí to be there. We talked of perhaps at some later date seeing ourselves in a happy retirement together, we talked of maybe even getting married again. But I couldnít deliver, couldnít recover a health in my soul and she quite rightly has moved on. Some time later she has found herself the beginnings of a new relationship and that's all ok. Iím sincere in my gladness at seeing a new happiness in her, which I fervently hope can lead to her finally being fulfilled, whether thru/ough this or some other future. You see people can only fulfil themselves once I am removed. Itís been a lifelong pattern.
And so Peter has gone, my family has gone, my worklife is fucked and now the bikeís had it too. I am entirely bereft of company, and as part of that I am (and will remain) bereft of female company (see Ďwho in their right mind would wish to seek out contact with the blown out shit-storm that is Ďmeí?í above + add ugliness). I now just have to just sit here and wait. Iíve totally exhausted all reserves of energy, ingenuity or hope and tried a million fucking solutions to no effect. Iím disbarred from taking any actions to snuff out my aching shitfuck of a life by my conscience regarding the harm this would cause those unfortunate enough to have become connected to me. There is no way forward. Now I just sit here and wait. So in the end itís all just a disgusting tale of human failure & emotional incontinence. Quite sickening really. This is probably no place to mention any of it, but I have to speak it somewhere. Donít blame me for you having read it - On this here thread Iíve always been ĎSold As Seení so donít say you werenít warned, it says it there in the sidebar Ď.also, I am a twatí. Itís been there unchanged since post 1.
Please don't feel you have to say anything as Iíd really rather not have to offend you by telling you exactly why you are wrong, not least because I have only mentioned a small portion of the disappointment & pain here. Thereís plenty more but Iíll save you the nausea of watching my complete collapse shall I? It's not as if I've come to these conclusions on a whim. It's taken a solid 10 fucking years** for this repeated shit to bring me now totally to my knees so it's not like a well intentioned casual/sincere comment will bring to mind a solution Iíve not already endlessly juggled & examined from every angle or perspective. Thereís no need for comfort or reassurance. Itís done.
Reality produces facts which cannot be disproved.
* Swapped the HT leads & the problem stayed on the same side. Swapped the plugs. Each side has a healthy spark. There is fuel & the carbs are only slightly out of balance. Fuck it, thereís little point in continuing with any train of informational or diagnostic thought as the only thing itís good for now is setting fire to. I may/will be sitting on it at the time.
** Since the work based bullying & strategic persecution started in Ď04 which led to a malicious & ill conducted redundancy and a Stick Based Legal Event which was followed by further lack of success in the job market (90 fucking applications for jobs I was a total fit for = a solitary unsuccessful interview) followed by further breakdown and the collapse of my marriage & family life. To locking myself in the madhouse to living in the woods etc. And so it goes on, unending & futile... Whine moan whine grind teeth ad inf.
planktonnn screwed with this post 02-06-2014 at 04:42 PM
Reason: Typos'n'ting + clarity/sin-tax...