I've been trying to sort out for a while now what would be easiest to try to explain first. So much happened last year that it's a killer on my brain just to start thinking about it... and I've learnt it to be a very bad idea to read through my own blog for ideas. Half the shit I don't want to be reminded of and the other half are things I want to punch myself for...
Which, I guess, would be a good place as any to start. One of those "Fuck, I was stupid" times. Always good for something, right? This one was one of the first ones, actually. I'm not sure if any of you have noticed or not, but a lot of my older stuff I've edited and added comments on to try to explain things a bit better than I did at the time. This one though... well, it really was the first step I took in the lies and half-truths. All because of something that I've mentioned again and again and yet have never explained what I mean by it...
The one I get when He is around.
I always expected someone to ask but... I guess you all just assumed. Now you get to find out if you assumed right.
I've said it again and again that I'm not afraid of Him. And, on the graves of my family, I swear to you that I'm not. I never have been. The terror everyone else says He drills into your core when under His stare... I've never felt it. Not once. The first time He was so damn close... and I still wasn't afraid. I was freaked out, of course, but not scared. Not of Him. After all, the Feeling that He gave me wasn't something to stand the hair on the back of my neck on end... or kick in any kind of fight or flight reflex, for that matter. It... never even once made me feel like I was in any kind of danger.
Instead, it was... comforting.
Each and every time, it comes the same damn way. I feel a pressure settle over me... as though a slight weight had been placed over my shoulders and head. Not to restrict me in any way, but just... to serve as a reminder. That He was there. Is there. "Father." The pressure wraps around me and I nearly... I nearly feel at peace. I suddenly feel like a drowning person who's been thrown a floation device. I can breathe. (At least until He decides I need to be punished.)
And it is because of this that I... am afraid. Of myself. Of being different. Through all these blogs, I don't remember anyone who experienced anything like this.
Well... no one, except Proxies. They mention it. They speak of comfort and peace and purpose. They tell about His glory and majesty... and, to the deepest part of my soul, I have respect for Him. I hate Him and everything He has done and will do... but I can't help but have this feeling of respect drumming inside me. Capitalizing the words I use to refer to Him isn't even my choice. It literally feels wrong not to. I can't even... call Him the name He is most commonly known as. I've literally sat here for the past ten minutes to type it out... but I can't. It sounds too simple. Too cheap. Almost mocking. So I simply call Him "He That Is"... or "Black King" works too. But in doing that... I start sounding just like Them, don't I?
Is it really any wonder I lashed out? Again and again? I was pissed OFF. It wasn't suppose to GO like this. This fight was supposed to be against the terror brought on by an Evil Entity who swoops in and destroys your life and picks your sanity apart piece by piece. How the Hell could I feel comforted by His presence? How could I possibly admit to something like that? Not only admit it to myself... but to you guys as well? Basically say that "Hey, I'm like Them! But don't worry. I won't go nutz-o on you. Pinky swear!" I'm sure THAT would have gotten me far...
That night when I went out to see Him... I was desperate. I was mad at myself and desperate to prove that I was afraid of Him. That I was just like every other Runner in this Community. That if I just got a bit closer, I'd feel it. I'd feel the fear that tears you to pieces without even being touched. To crumble to the ground with a terror that pounds in your chest and screams in your ears. I thought I just had to get a bit closer...
I don't remember what happened after I went outside. I don't even remember going back into the house. All I know is I woke up the next morning in my room. I've tried so hard to remember that patch of time, but it's gone. Whatever happened, I might not want to remember. He'd been close enough to take my necklace, after all. My pendant. I'm just... glad He did leave it for me to find. It wouldn't be the last time He focused His attention on it though. I guess He knows it means something to me.
Valerie had given me this pendant years ago as a birthday present. It's handcrafted. A horse on one side and a dragon on the other. I always looked at it as a reminder. On one side you have the horse: Reliable, strong, hardworking, trustworthy, kind, gentle... all the things a person would want to be in the world. And on the other side, you have the dragon: Glorious, unstoppable, untameable - limited only but one's own imagination. I think that's how people should try to live - a horse in mind, a dragon in spirit. Or maybe I'm just being weird again. Looking too closely into things. All I know is that, from the minute I got it, I never took it off. Not until He took it off for me. I'm... just relieved it didn't disappear. It helps me get through the day, sometimes. I believe in its weight around my neck the same way I believe in the ground. It'll always be there. It's a constant.
But, just like my pendant, there's a flip-side to the comfort in His presence. To contrast... the ache when He isn't around is near constant. It runs through my whole body. Some days it hurts more than others, but it's always there in one form or another. Every minute of every day. All my muscles. My brain. My insides. Everything. It's a constant drain. Some days I literally can't eat because I don't feel like I could keep anything down... and I honestly don't remember a day when my eyes haven't been bloodshot red or that I didn't feel the pressure on my temple that told in its painful sing-song voice that I'd be dealing with a headache soon. I just take my pills (migraine pills. Not those "mystery pills" that were (are?) popular for a while) and ignore it. Get on with the day. Smile when I need to. Manners, manners, manners... Don't forget your manners, Mitchy...
I think... I'm getting better at not letting the pain get to me. Heh. Being in constant pain... caused from resisting what He wants of me... Has. Become. My. Norm.
How fucking stupid is that?
What... the Hell is so wrong with me that I'm like this? Am I really that horrible of a person? Am I really that fucking bad?
I still hadn't said It yet though. I haven't sworn loyalty or given any kind of vow or done anything to suggest I wanted His influence in my head any more than it already is. I know after posting this I'm probably going to be called a Proxy again... even though I still call myself a Runner... but, perhaps, that doesn't quite fit with what I am either. Maybe I'm a Running Proxy. Running from the Job more than the threat of death...
This is me being honest. Should I stop?