The Solitude of Madness

How to begin?  Well, I think a positive way to start this Blog post would be with a statement of thankfulness: I am thankful that I am seeing my children again, and that I am getting on well with the ex, after too many years of my stupid anger.

 

…That being said…

 

It kills me…inches at a time…to only be seeing my children for only a few hours every couple of weeks.  But this, it seems, is the mandate of some Quebecois social worker who probably has an automatic bias against me for being a divorced father, and an Anglophone.

But anyway…I cherish every second of those great golden times I get to spend with my children…but when it ends…invariably, I go home to cry that this is all I have of them.

Madness leads to isolation, which only exacerbates the madness.

After my breakdown in 2012, my subsequent divorce in 2013 and the whole fucking shitshow since has been pretty much the fault of my inability to Deal…and while I have, at last – at least – learned to and begun to Deal…the fact of the matter is, all I live for is those few hours a fortnight I spend with my kids.

I’m long past the point of expecting or even dreaming of writing a bestseller; They Came In Peace is no magic bullet for success.

But beyond the solitude elicited by alienating my readers, forcing my ex-wife and Social Services to put up a firewall between me and my children, and just generally realizing that, at 46, this is As Good As It’s Ever Going To Fucking Be, And It Used To Be A Lot Better, I really do feel as though I’ve come to a point where the Steve Suit is wearing me.

The Steve Suit, as I’ve referred to elsewhere (And go look it up if you haven’t read about it already), is the false Human skin I wear, when I go out into the world; be it to see my mother and sister, to go to work, or to smoke one with the guy upstairs, or just go out in public…the Steve Suit is this Human Persona, a fictional character I created to wear when I leave home.  I am always cosplaying as a Human Being.

I think that the only time I’m a real Person is when I see my children…three hours out of every three hundred and thirty six…

But what makes the solitude of my Madness even worse, are the friends that have abandoned me in the last five years.  And what cuts me the most isn’t the loss of people who clearly weren’t friends…it’s the fact that I gave them so much of my love and trust before I realized the truth.

I won’t mention anyone by name…but the couple who went through child custody battles for years because of their open marriage / BDSM lifestyle and unapologetic marijuana use – in front of their children – something I can at least lay claim to: I HAVE NEVER BEEN STONED IN FRONT OF MY CHILDREN…I stood by you through thick and thin…through times you were going through things I truly believed you brought upon yourselves…without judgement or criticism…but you abandoned me, because you couldn’t deal with how I was handling my Divorce.  You abandonded me.  You used me and denied me, in spite of all that I stood by you for.

Then there’s my former illustrator, someone who decided at one point to play with my emotions with the unwitting participation of a third party…you, former tormentor in high school, who I eventually turned into a person I thought of as a friend and confidente…you were doing noting but using me to gratify your own smug ego…to prove to yourself how much of a better person than me you were…typical Catholic cunt.  I hope your little Island is flooded out by Global Warming.

But enough of the fairweather friends…what about those who pledged their undying loyalty to me?  Their unconditional love, their unrelenting friendship.

One of you is a spoiled Princess who only turns to me when you need the unconditional emotional support you know I unquestioningly provide because of my profound love for you.  And then you dodge me whenever my emotions, feelings, needs or problems become an inconvenient burden.  Keep calm and carry on ignoring me, eh?

The other is someone who claimed to forgive me, to have always been and always would be my friend…someone I love as though he were my brother…who refused to understand my pain…who through nothing more than a Desire to Teach Me A Lesson wrecked my life, my police record, and got me evicted and put into an assload of debt…who wouldn’t support me…who wouldn’t sympathize with my pain, always telling me to be happy for what I had…who ultimately abandoned me because it was easier than having to think outside his comfort zone…You are almost certainly sociopath; forget autism, your inability to empathize…to put yourself in another person’s shoes…you’re the ultimate narcissist…you demonstrated you were even capable of making an anonymous stranger’s murder be about you…And that lack of empathy is frighteningly, disturbingly sociopathic.  Combined with the narcisssism, I daresay if you hadn’t found a female babysitter, you’d probably have wound up in jail by now.

What hurts me the most is how much of my life was wasted cultivating false friends like you lot, who ultimately abandonded me.

I can honestly say, that the woman I fell in love with, married, had three children with me and then divorced me, has more love and respect for me than any of you.

And considering all the hell I put her through, that says a lot.  About her decency, my indecency, and your general lack of Humanity.

So…I’m asexual, because I know I’ve not the energy to invest in nor the desireability to be worthy of another relationship; and I am solitary, monastic and hermit-like, because it’s easier than leaving my heart to be stabbed by those I love the most.

The only six people who matter to me now are my mother, my sister, my children and their mother.

I’m done with anyone not blood; clearly not a one of you has a soul.

So long, and thanks for stealing my youth.

Sincerely,

 

Steve The Seeker Karmazenuk

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