The Difficult Times Of A Difficult Person

I’ve been called many things in my life, Stupid, Difficult, a disappointment (mostly by my father) and so the list goes on ! This, as the title suggests is a post about difficult times, probably made more difficult by being a difficult person.

As far back as I can remember, I have been an extremely deep thinker. If there was an olympics for worrying  I would be of Usain Bolt status. I don’t think I have ever made a rash, last-minute decision in my entire life. Everything must be planned out, carefully budgeted and prepared. I lay in bed all night just, thinking, endlessly. My mind is restless.

My grandfather once said to me “Your just like me, full of nervous energy” as he lit his 20th cigarette of the day. He firmly believes smoking calms his nerves. Once after one of my  severe bouts of depression I asked him profoundly  “How can I feel better?” he looked at me and said “Shit and a shave !” I remember just laughing nervously and braking the intense eye contact. After a few seconds of silence he said “You just gotta know when to lick and when to kick” a phrase I have never forgotten.

Suffering with anxiety and depression from my early teens I have spent a large portion of  my life looking at others wondering why I can’t have what they have. Why did I always have to be the outsider, lost and lonely ?

I was raised in an extremely strict home, my parents devout Jehovah’s Witnesses. I had three older sisters (one was my half-sister) and a younger brother. Our life was hard. One full of anger, rules and bible bashing. My father was self-employed tradesman. We never had any money as a family of seven, we were always looked down on. We had nothing. Often the people of the faith would feel sorry for us, especially after a sermon given at the sunday meeting about caring for the less fortunate. They would give us hand me down suites and old clothing. That’s one thing I despised as, the children would mock you as you walked into the kingdom hall, saying things like “Oi… that’s my suit, why are you wearing it ?” as if you didn’t feel bad enough !

I left after finally seeing sense, in fact, so did all my siblings. I admit openly, it took me a lot longer than them, I was the last to leave. I will be honest it was one of the hardest decisions of my life,as its left me with a huge, overwhelming hole. I’m now 27 years old, I don’t have any friends and other than work have little or zero interaction with anyone other than family members. It’s a lonely existence,  but in the words of one of my favorite  Noah and the whale songs”You know in a year, it’s gonna be better You know in a year, I’m gonna be happy”. Words I desperately clutch too.

I’m currently stuck in a dead-end job working endless hours for minimum wage, being treated like dirt on the bottom of the bosses shoe, hoping one day someone will appreciate all my hard work and dedication.Yeah… dream on I hear the reader say ! I’m convinced I can turn this around and achieve something.

This page is where I wish to share some of some experiences. I look forward to reading your comments and exploring your pages and hopefully find some purpose in this cruel world.

Love & peace to you all.

 

 

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