The plot thickens

Damn, I just don't know.

I mean, seriously, how much do people know about me? I seriously considered ending all of the pretense today, but it's not time. I have such a hard time, because I have the capacity to inflict such pain, such intense, emotional pain that it would call into question my humanity.

Who I am today is because of who I am not. I am not a person built around affirmations, but rather negations. Instead of going out and defining myself as "smart, emotionally strong", and whatever other adjective of which you can think, my life have alwasy been built around me saying "I'm not stupid. I'm not weak."

I can't be weak. I took that on a long time ago. The last time I ever cried was when my dad was diagnosed with MS. After that, I determined that I could never show emotions again, because I was supposed to be the citadel in which my family could find their strength. It's so fucking ridiculous, but it's true. In those months afterwards, my life was chaos inside, but outside, I had to show the face of iron that has become mine. Whenever there is a matter of any seriousness, I don't show a face of softness and compassion, it's of iron determination.

For years, I have frankly gloated that I was immune to such problems. Many times, I thought myself better than other people because I didn't suffer from human problems. I suffered from intellectual and 'higher order' concerns. I didn't have to worry about people dying because I turned life into this materialistic framework that focused around the fact that we live and we die. I didn't have to worry about feelings because they were only biochemical impulses shooting between synapses. I didn't have relationships (realistically, I still don't).

As many of you can see, that power is eroding quickly, and I am not sure how long I can maintain my composure. Two things are all that is left from flooding my life in torture: fear and...doubt. It's more the fear than the doubt, because there are some people whose knowledge of these affairs would not frighten me, because I believe in their genuineness. Although, there is another lie, because Karin (probably one of only two or three faithful readers of my life) is one of those people who I think I could explain all of this to. I had the chance tonight, but I backed out.

It's so ironic, that I, the stoic, he who has always destroyed himself for the sake of his reputation, he who has always claimed to be unafraid of taking any position contrary to society, is now drowning in it. I put on a good show, but I'm paralyzed. There isn't an explosion powerful enough to remove these problems any longer. As I sit here writing, I want to cry, I want to run down the street screaming, but I can't. Like a lie that is told over and over again, I've simply said to myself "I'm above emotions" enough that my body thinks so, even when my mind finally realizes that that is all a lie.

Oh, the world will know, and it kills me, because I know that it will hurt other people. That's one of the two parts of fear that possesses me. The first is the fear of consequences that will come back against me. Every action involves consequences, but it is characteristics that invoke the strongest ones, because they lead to legacies. Actions can reflect personal characteristics, for example, if you say that it is justifiable to lie to a supervisor, then that says you're untrustworthy and you are treated as such. I can't imagine my position justifiable enough to expose myself to censure. Every facet of my being would be questioned, my genuineness under assault, and my reputation wasted. Ray, the iron rod, the fortress of steel, the unbreakable, inside, is afraid, weak, and helpless...ready to shatter at a moment's notice.

The other part is the fear of what this knowledge would do to people that I love. This, I can see, would only have negative consequences. In some cases, I would lose the people that I love. In others, I would crush something in them, I would kill flowers that would never again bloom. How could I cause my family such pain? Who could willingly go to his family and friends and just shred everything? They would be hurt by the lies, the shattered image of me...and I don't want to cause them to feel pain. I would rather endure this suffering my entire life than to harm them in any way.

If I were religious, I would go with the "put it in God's hands" thing, but I really think now in my life that doing that is nothing more than what I'm doing now--ignoring the problem.

A Haiku
These days are so dark.
My heart beats unrelenting...
The day turns again.