Back Again At Misery Inc

Well after so many months of not having to write on this blog and profess how my life was deciding to screw me this time, I thought finally I might never have to write here again. Well I'm back, so obviously I'm wrong. Only this time, just like the stakes in life, the messes are bigger. It seems that as you grow up the problems grow with you. Spilling your drink and having your mum growl at you might seem like a huge problem when you're young. A girl dumping you might be one when you're a teenager. The problems get more and more mature as you do.

In the past few months I've matured a lot. I've learnt the trade of being a man. I don't know why now of all times, but I have. Jess taught me a lot - for a fling which I wasn't taking seriously, she sure has taught me how to be more forgiving, caring, and mature. We haven't spoken in a while, but things have been plain sailing ever since; I've started university and have begun to make friends; was beginning to get on consistently with my parents; be confident in myself and make decisions with the maturity you'd expect. Everything was great. Until yesterday.

I've been with my cricket team for two years now. Last season was great - I was the youngest there with lots of older guys teaching me how to play properly and friends to make. This season however, our keeper was selected as selector for the team. This unfortunately, spelled the end of my time at the cricket club. Our keeper is an okay guy, a bit of a he-man and definitely not someone I'd befriend, but he also plays indoor cricket. If you've ever played club cricket, then you'll know all about how indoor cricket can be violent, aggressive and unsporting at times. So with his election to selector, he invited all of his indoor cricket buddies over (they of course knowing they'd have a place in the team).

Almost immediately, the team dynamic changed. Most of the nice guys from the previous season left, with only a few older guys overlooking the newcomers. Because I was youngest, naturally these guys were going to assert their place in the team by singling me out. One guy in particular, we'll refer to him as Fag from now on, has been particularly harsh on me, with snide comments being made whenever he batted with me or whenever I made a mistake, he was always first to criticize. I can take constructive criticism, but he went above and beyond to be obnoxious. A few of the others joined in occasionally, but never on that level. The newer players never showed good sportsmanship, consistently arguing with the umpires and other teams. I play for fun and never say a bad word against anyone, no matter what. Some people just don't think that notion is viable.

Not being one for confrontations, I just let it slide. I can take a lot of pain. I'd come home distraught and beat myself up about my mistakes. But it was only one guy, so it wasn't so bad. But this weekend, it seemed as though most of the team had turned against me. Fag kept bossing me around when it wasn't his place, and when I missed a ball off his bowling (and to be honest, no one on the team could've reached it and it was only hit so far and fast because of his poor bowling) he continued to ridicule me and when I reacted, he told me to shut my mouth. Fuming, I continued, safe in the knowledge that his girlfriend is a chubby whale who keeps him under the thumb. But then at half time, the last straw was struck.

"Oh great, so you're opening the batting?" says I to Fred. "Yep" he replies. "You should go out there and smash it." To that, Fred replies, "I'm not taking batting advice from you Spawn Man." I wasn't giving any, nor was I attempting to be serious in my comment. One player being a prick to me was forgivable. Two? Well that was it. I rang my parents to pick me up. A mistake? Maybe. Did I do it? Yes. Can I change it? Nope.

My parents came and pretty much began swearing at the other players in my team who'd wronged me. To tell the truth, sure I'd have liked it to be handled differently, but my parents had been battling with my misery from the taunts at the club all season and had had enough - a mother bear protecting her cub as my mother put it. I was embarrassed and numb. I still am pretty numb about the entire debacle. I'd wanted to talk to them and possibly get them to help me talk to some of the older members of the team. But it went out of my hands and control rapidly, too rapidly for me to pull back before the bridges were burnt. I don't blame them - I know they were doing what they did from a good place and that they only want the best for me. I'm just annoyed they didn't consult with me before changing my life forever, but it's done now.

I left the ground with everyone looking back. Some were looking astonished. Some confused. Others with angry scowls on their faces. It does feel like a death. I had friends there. I felt like I was part of something. A team. And now it's gone. Forever. Forever is a long time. I sent a message to the team saying why I was leaving and that I was sorry it was to end like that. Since I've had a couple of replies and apologies, and a few saying that my parents were pathetic and that I should be ashamed and not come back to the team.

I'm struggling with that - should I have dealt with the problem on my own? Maybe they're right in the fact that I shouldn't have let my parents fight my battles (not that I asked them to). I feel more mature than ever, but am I really after this? By saying that their actions were okay, am I saying that I think it's okay to resolve issues like that? I don't want my parents to think that I despise what they did, but the way things ended doesn't sit right with me either. I can't make heads or tails of it right now. I feel exactly the same way as when my cat died and when I broke up with Vikki. I've been crying and upset, but now I feel like it's all a dream.

The worst thing is that it was cricket. If you know me, then you know I love two things more than anything: Cricket and Batman. And now I have to give one up because of the behaviour of the few assholes in my cricket team. Maybe I was the problem? Maybe I just took things too seriously? I always have a way of crashing and burning with any friendship, club or relationship I've ever had. Maybe I'm the problem as per usual? It's like my conscience is set to overdrive - anything unfair is flagged and I just cannot reconcile it and then my parents come in to swoop me up. I like the feeling of being swooped up, but I feel like a martyr. I miss out on what I love.

I don't know what I'm feeling. Just when life was getting good, it gets worse. If I could take the day back, I would. For the love of God I definitely would. I know ultimately, I'll overcome it and that it was the right thing, but if I could, I'd have confronted Fag myself and if I'd needed to leave, I would have. But there are no do-overs in life. I have loving parents and a life ahead of me, but boy do I have a way of being miserable.

Online Hang-ups

It's a common misconception that the internet is linking us together in these high-tech times. For me, it couldn't be farther from the truth. It's a horrible place for people like me. People who don't necessarily fit into social groups in real life, who are smart and have a way with words. Who are so desperate for everyone to like them and to be what everyone wants them to be, that they'll use the internet as just another mask behind which to hide. That's me.

In real life, girls won't take a second look at me. People won't take a second look at me. It's not because I'm not charming or good looking, but almost as if they can sense it. As if some lingering stench surrounds me. Only a select few seem to move past the outer layer of me, into a place where few people have seen. It's been there all my life. Bullied from a young age, everyone seems to think they can have a piece of me. Even now, with people my own age. No matter how I act - confident or shy, serious or annoying, caring or indifferent - people either don't take me seriously, attack me or let me down. I've never even been on a date.

But online, no one can seem my face. No one can see me. I'm the master of masks and this is my greatest. I can use words and humour and pick any girl I want. I even managed to score myself an online girlfriend, which is further than I ever got in real life. I can be 18 or 20 or 22. I can be the magazine photographer or the apartment-dwelling bachelor. I can be six foot and have perfect hair. I can be what I know people want to hear. What will get me... What will it get me?

I don't seem to know what my end-game is. I certainly won't be in a physical relationship with any one of these people. They won't be sending me nude pictures and sexy texts. We'll never be best friends. And yet I mascaraed around like we will. I try to fit into their view and be what will get them to love me. So I'll be their best friend. But it's not me. It's never me. It's my mask. The real me is all alone, hidden out of view crying. Wondering why he even has to do this to himself. Why he can't be himself. Alone. And yet every girl I meet online I become older and manlier. The mere prospect of beginning an acquaintance with someone as me is terrifying. I guess deep down, I'm hoping against hope that someone will truly see the inner me and love him. That one of these beautiful people online will magically come out and be my best friend. But that's never going to happen. All that's going to happen is the fact I know that not only am I never going to be friends with these people in real life or online in any capacity I'd like, but that the person they're friends with isn't really me in any case!

Thank goodness Andy hasn't asked me my age yet. So far I've been getting into bars with him without being asked for my ID. I'm old enough, but he's nearly 30 and I don't think he knows just how young I am. Even my own body hides me. I'm so young and yet I can pass for someone in their late twenties. Just another way to hide.

I'm the master of masks.

New Beginnings

As the saying goes, in every life there's a time for a reaping and a sowing. And for me, the fronds of my life are just beginning to sprout again, up from the ashes. Looking back over these months of blog posts, I thought I saw a life being undone. Now I see that it is a life being reborn. A time of finding my way, my place, my voice and my heart. Of seeing people fall away and of seeing people rise. From my grandmother's death I was able to start a career. From the losses of my love and my friends, I was able to achieve perspective. Whatever the case, this time in my life has not destroyed me, but left me experienced - somewhat more than I would've enjoyed - but experienced all the same. Reborn from the fire to face it all over again.

You know of my troubles with family and love and life. My time at art school finished with a bang of a similar fashion. It was mostly my fault of course; never seeing the outcome of my lies or actions until they're gone and I'm wishing there was an "undo" button. I asked a girl out, as far as I knew it was for a date, and we went to the cinema. Only there did I find out she had a boyfriend. I flowed with it all the same and when I was asked by my art tutor the next day how my date went, I said it went brilliantly, not naming names. However harmless the lie, time and again I find out that full honesty is the best medicine, no matter how horrible. Had I not shared this lie in the presence of another student, I may still be at art school today. But this was not an ordinary student.

Since I started at the art school, one student, Rick, had had it out for me for no reason at all. My presence annoyed him in his words. As he was a cruel, pot-smoking douche which everyone seemed to like, I tried my best to avoid him as much as possible. But it just so happened Rick was in the carpool on the way to school when I divulged my status-increasing lie to my tutor. So far, so good. Rick looked suspicious, but I felt that my lie went down well and that I'd gotten away with it. But little did I know that it was only the beginning of a chain of events which would lead to a terrible conclusion.

The girl I asked out was a friend of a friend, who I hung out with at school. When that friend texted me about why I hadn't been going to school as much lately, I joked around that I was dying. Hilarious to me. Less so to my friend. Somehow this got around to the girl I went to the movies with and from there, somehow Rick found out about it and then also that I never went on a "date". The car ride to school the next day, to say the least, was tense. Rick claimed that my date was a sham and that I should stop texting the girls. Little did I know that Rick had (at least in my eyes) either a crush on the girl I went to the cinema with and/or a vendetta against me. I passed it off and said that I dated several people, none of which he knew, and that it was none of his business. Luckily my fellow carpoolers bought the story and defended me. I came close to punching Rick that day; in fact I did try and trip him up on the stairs after I found out that the two girls had completely snubbed me and were gossiping. Rick threatened to kill me and I haven't been back since because quite frankly, I know I'll do the prick over and I've spent too long being a good person for him to mess it up.

So you see, once again lies have given me a valuable lesson. A lie to make myself seem more impressive and a joke which was in bad taste. Harmless. To everyone but myself. Time and again the consequences have proven this to me. I'll admit, I was unlucky to tell a lie while in the presence of the one person willing to doggedly disprove it just for the hell of it, but in any case, not telling it in the first place would've saved me a lot of heart ache. So you see, although many things change, some things never seem to. I never seem to learn from these lessons. I always seem to think I'm too smart to get caught lying. Too cunning. In the end I guess I'm not.

The reason I came on tonight was because another of my best friends online simply deleted me and made sure I could never contact him again for nothing more than messaging him and "not leaving him alone". I'll admit, I'm upset. He'd been my friend for more than a year and we'd had some good times together. I just guess that people don't see the world the way I do. I'm loyal and if I have a problem with you, I'll tell you instead of simply cutting you off. I'll be emotionally intuitive. I'll care. As my parents always tell me, the world just doesn't think like that. But in this time of new growth, it doesn't register as a strike against my heart, but as a new leaf of experience for me to grow from. Even as I write, the hurt is going. Probably because I also know that just a new experience comes, so do new friends. Enter Andy.

I spent a solid month lapping up any work I could get my hands on via the local student job search. On one such job I met Andy. We clicked immediately and although he doesn't contact me before I contact him, he seems like a good soul with a good head. Just as my view of people was waning, I find someone who is decent. Someone who doesn't act like a schoolboy, as with Rick or my other friends. Someone who is mature. Thankfully he hasn't asked my age, because if he had when I first met him I'd have probably told him a lie, and I've had too many relationships begin on a lie. It's not that I want to lie. It's just that it's safe within this shell. This mask where I can be whatever you want me to be. Where people take you seriously and don't dismiss you on age or who you date or what you do.

But wear my mask I still do. I'm even lying to my extended family now. After my grandmother died, I was able to acquire a professional camera from her estate. Although I'd rather have my grandmother, it seems almost a gift from her to me so I can have a career. But before long, I just have to taint it. I'm already saying that I've gotten a job at a magazine to my family, friends and even strangers, when the reality is that I haven't even sent in my portfolio. Every time I tell a lie it makes me feel that bit more distant from others.

This new beginning is too brilliant to taint with my lies. It shouldn't just be a new chance to put on new masks to make me feel secure. Maybe I've been burnt again and again to realize that I'm meant to. Maybe I'm not supposed to cover my vulnerability with these masks. Maybe this new chance is just that. A new chance. A chance to feel life as myself, the only version of me I'll ever be. But it's baby steps right now. It's hard to break the habit of a lifetime. I'm still just poking my head through the dirt.

What Am I Becoming?

Today has been no better. It's like someone has grabbed my life and started to twist it. It's not even my life any more. I really do feel like I'm barely coping minute to minute and my only purpose is to survive until my death. The joy has just vanished. Even a week ago there was some joy, but it is no more. I can't cope. I need someone to just descend from the heavens and just take my hand and make everything better. I cannot see any other way this is going to get better. I see no out. I've lost the woman I love, I've lost what was making me happy, I've lost all motivation, all hope, all love. I feel like I've lost everything. And most of all, I've lost myself.

How am I to ever trust another so much again? In the space of a month I've turned from a positive, out going and happy person to someone who is struggling to cope when his mind is not at least completely occupied in fear of a complete break down. A shell. An empty shell of myself and what if I can never get it back? I opened myself up to her so much and she's burnt me so deep - how can I recover? I feel like there's no fixing this. I feel ashamed, but I really just want to die. I have no purpose, no reason. What could I possibly achieve in my life?

I just want this to be over. I want to book a flight right now and fly over to Vikki and just talk. I am so hurt. Everything we planned is not going to happen. All the dreams we had, lost. Every hour which we spent talking is wasted. Not just over a month or two, but nearly a year. That's so much of myself I shared, more probably than I've shared with my parents in some cases. And I'm expected to just start again? And what happens if that doesn't work out? Start again after that? I don't want to become one of those detestable people who shut themselves so tight that they can't be loved. Just so they don't get burnt again. And I certainly don't want to get burnt any more.

As I'm writing, my cat is lying next to my chair. I both envy and pity him. What a life. No love or worries. No expectations and if he dies, no regrets. He doesn't look back and wish he'd chased more mice or eaten more food. Climbed the highest tree or crossed the road one last time. No, he is happy. His success is just having lived. And I envy that. Why can't I just find the joy in living. I'm sure my cat would cope much better if his cat girlfriend just left. And yet I pity him. He can never feel love or joy like we can. Maybe it's our duty to feel this pain and love.

For me, it's hard - a life without love or pain, or one with both. I look back, finding it hard to see a positive on the whole situation. Yet would I do it again? I know I certainly would have done things differently, but would I have ever gotten involved with Vikki if I had a second chance knowing what I know now? It was the first time I'd ever felt truly accepted: my body hair, my thinning hair, my age, my shy personality, everything. But in doing so, I allowed myself to get hurt so much. I was so vulnerable and I trusted someone to be careful with that. Looking at it, maybe it was fair. But certainly, it shouldn't have ended the way it has. And yet, maybe she meant something else in her email. And maybe it is over.

I see her moving on. A job and stuff to do, she said. Me? The best achievement I've made in the past month is managing to not have a nervous breakdown like I nearly had in February. There needs to be magic wand. I need it so badly right now. Maybe if I'd had thought less of myself or been more accepting, I would've ignored her friend's remarks and her un-supporting nature. Maybe if I'd never done a lot of things this would be different.

I've fought so long to keep Vikki that I'm not even sure I want this any more. I just want everything to be over. My mother's pep-talks can only last me a few hours before their effects wear off. And then I'm left with my questions and fears and hurt again. Please save me. I don't know who I'm asking, but I just need you. Someone to be there for me and to accept me. My parents are just not on the same emotional wave length as me at all and I have no one. Vikki was who I talked to and now I'm lost.

Restless

I can't sleep, nor do I feel like doing so. My mind keeps ticking over and I just can't help the anxiety. It's going to kill me if I don't calm down. I've never entertained the thought that one day, Vikki might not want me. She assured me so much that she wasn't like the other relationships I've had in my life, one-sided and ending with me left holding the pieces. Maybe I was wrong to trust so blindly in someone who has clearly just abused that fact. I feel like a fool. And now what am I to do? Move on? To who? I hardly go out any more since my school went extramural and once the cricket season is over, I'll have no reason to leave at all. Who is going to ever find me shackled to my house? What love and acceptance is ever going to find me there?

The moment Vikki said she didn't care about my age that night, my life changed for the better forever. I'll be forever thankful to her for that. Showing me that someone out there was willing to accept me for who I am and not judge me. To give me a chance and to love me. That is why this is so hard. I am alone on this earth. She was the only one who truly accepted me. She saw me at my worst and at my best and everywhere in between. And she didn't care. This is a real shock to me and if it turns out that she definitely does not want a relationship with me any more, then I'm going to be puzzled for the rest of my life.

If I can give some advice to anyone reading, do not ever fall for someone over the internet and absolutely do not get too deep so fast. And it goes without saying, do not get too deep too fast with someone over the internet. It's a recipe for disaster. And yet in saying that, maybe I'm just the exception. Maybe I'm the only one who can't even keep a relationship afloat. Maybe this relationship would have been doomed even in real life. Maybe. All I know is that I have consumed one pack of corn chips which I didn't even like all that much and that the taste is now residing both gleefully and annoyingly in the back of my throat. I hope it doesn't go to my waist - there should be a law of nature that states no fat should be gained from food eaten whilst wallowing over a lost love.

But then again, life doesn't like me remember...

The First Mask Comes Off

Now, I don't know how many people cry for a week before they break up, but you can definitely add my name down as one. With many a sad Johnny Cash song and several tissue boxes behind me, I faced my demise last night and told Vikki the truth. I knew what to expect; rejection, disbelief and a lonely path ahead of me. The problem was I that I'm a dick and don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

So I just told her. There was silence at first and then Vikki said something which threw me. She said she didn't care. She explained that she'd been in a similar situation and that she knew there was more important things than physical being. I couldn't have been more wrong about her reaction. In fact, it only improved things between us. And most of all, it sent one of my masks crashing to the floor.

If one person can accept me for who I am, why can't the rest? Why should I care if the rest like me or not? If one person loves me, then that's enough for me. I've been putting this age mask over my face all my life and now it's finally been lifted and I'm liking what I see.

And with her simple acceptance of who I really am, Vikki has done me more good than she will ever know. I'm hoping to come out of the age closet soon, as I realize that all that hard work to hide who I really am just isn't worth it and it deprives others of seeing the real me. I'm not only cheating them, but myself too. Maybe it will set off a chain reaction in my life. I hope so.

For now, I am enjoying my new-found truth, honesty and acceptance. For the first time, I really don't give a shit about what others think of me. I guess all it took was a little bit of faith from someone else to help me along. And for that, I'm forever thankful.