Montaigne Posted March 13, 2008 Report Share Posted March 13, 2008 (edited) I’m not quite sure how to explain this; as I’ve never really done it before – so I’m just going to try to divulge my story with as much honesty and authenticity as I can. Firstly, I’m a 26 year old male. When I was born there were complications and unfortunately the day after my birth my mother passed away. I grew up with 3 siblings in a household with a violently abusive father. My siblings and I all spent our entire upbringing living in complete fear of when the next outburst would come, and so it’s hardly surprising then that most of us later developed fear/anxiety disorders. Despite all of this I never felt that there was anything terrible about my childhood; at least growing up without ever having had a mother didn’t seem foreign or alien or different to the normal experience to me at the time. I guess I didnt know the experience of others, I didn’t know what it was like to at least have one parent that loved you and protected you, and most of all being a male I never knew what it was like to have a loving mother. When I was younger I never really thought about these things, I just.. coped. As I became a young adult though my longing for maternal affection was clear. It wasn’t really until this point that I realised I would be so indellibly shaped by all that happened on the second day of my life. Life isn’t easy at the best of times, I know everyone is searching for meaning, and I was searching for a particular type of affection that I’d never had and longed for so deeply. Then, something amazing happened – and I found exactly what I needed and wanted. I fell in love with a woman who became very special and dear to me. Her name was Chloe. She loved me so much and cared about me so deeply – it was certainly like nothing I had ever experienced before. I didn’t realise until I met her that someone could be so completely devoted to the welfare of another; it was as though she was selfless in her affection for me. It was very maternal you see, so you can imagine the contentment and completion I felt at this time. Life was easier at this point. Of course unconsciously I’d always felt the weight of the fact that my mother died for me, and it was never something I had been comfortable with. I found it crippling; but with Chloe I was able to flourish. I had a very successful academic period where I received awards from my uni, and I was finally able to overcome some of my (serious) social hangups and such. I was doing very well and qualified for an honours degree, again i was doing very well in that and was certainly on course for a PhD scholarship (which is what I was aiming for). Then things got difficult again though. Chloe was a very good person, and bad things too often happen to good people. It’s hard to explain just how damaging the loss of Chloe was to me. When you have something so grand it’s truly wonderful, but once it’s lost; the uniqueness that made it so special also makes it impossible to ever reclaim again, and the realisation of this cuts so deeply. It was like losing my `mamma’ (as I sometimes called her) for the second time. To be honest I think the pain it brought out was from the loss of both of these women. I became completely apathetic and gave up on academia. I’ve now found my way into a lowly menial job with absolutely no prospects for betterment. I’m a drone; the antithesis of what I had always wanted to be. It’s been years since I lost Chloe, and I’ve spent them all as an alcoholic. My self-destructiveness is quite an issue now. Parts of my body are completely covered in permanent scars from cuts and burns that I’ve asked women to inflict on me. That’s very twisted i know but it’s just what has happened. It’s linear in a way I think, because there’s no question that by default I feel a great sense of guilt over the fact that my mother died because of me, and so although it’s stupid there is something quite relieving about being physically harmed by women to me. Clearly I still feel that I deserve to be punished. I’m not quite sure what I hope to gain from posting here, just to get things off my chest as I have never done before is something. I feel like I do actually know how to redress the situation, and that is to find a way to justify my existence. Justifying one’s existence is one of the most difficult and agonizing discourses that can be undertaken I think (particuarly when you have the death of another on your conscience), but it has to be done. I know the only way to overcome my self-destructive tendencies is to make my life worthwhile, and to live as my lost loved ones would want me to. I try to take steps towards that end, but it isn’t easy. Although I have a clear image of where i want to end and who I want to be, I can never seem to realise anything to make it so. Although I’m a 26 year old man now, I need my mamma. Pathetic; I know. Edited March 13, 2008 by Montaigne Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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