Scared Bunny

I love the way people are trying to get me to start dating again.

Don't get me wrong. I still appreciate a hot woman. And I am still a hornball just like the next guy. But I am not interested in dating. I have found that if I stop for even a minute, and don't keep myself occupied, my anxiety jumps and then I'm a mess. I even enjoy making cold calls at work because it fights off the anxiety. But the causes of my anxiety would be right in front of me if I were dating. The anxiety isn't about Tricia. It's about me. She didn't personally cause them. The fact that I was dating and then married caused them.

But people, including my shrink, keep asking me if I've tried this, that or the other thing. Let me ask you this; can you see me being a church guy? I have a blog full of the word fuck and comments about anal sex. While lots of church guys are like that in private, I am just like that period. And bars? You think I would ever trust a woman I picked up in a bar? I would assume any time she went to a bar without me she was trying to get picked up. After all, I did it.

But the best suggestion was online. With one exception (Heather, or She Who Shall Not Be Named) every single story in this blog involves an online hookup to at least some degree. So we kind of have a track record there. We have the women who were married and told me they weren't. We have the women who were married but said they were separated. We have hard core no lube anal girl. We have a woman who I broke up with who, despite pledging she wanted to marry me was claiming to be in love with another guy less than a week later. And… Well, you get the idea.

Unless my new psychiatrist comes up with a med that blocks the physical symptoms of anxiety, there is no way I can date unless it's one off and I never think about them again. I don't do that very well though. If I like them I get attached. Then the anxiety hits because I don't feel worthy. It hits because I don't trust. It hits because I am expecting to get hurt again.

People don't understand that. It's not always my thoughts that are triggering this bullshit. I am pretty nervous physically sometimes even when I am not thinking about anything negative. Even when it's thought triggered it may not be a negative thought. Sometimes I need to be doing something, but at the same time can't get myself motivated to do it because I am so anxious I just feel like walking around almost in circles.

I'm seriously worried about myself, and I am not sure people see that. I can't show it at work because I could lose my job. At home nobody is there. I sure as hell can't call friends and say “Guess what. I'm turning circles in the living room!” It's bad enough my dog does that when he takes a dump.

I am isolated because I have to be with someone that makes me feel safe just to not feel insane. People don't understand that and how do you tell someone “Sorry. I don't feel safe with you emotionally.” That is a pretty harsh thing to say, to be honest. But with all but a handful of people, it is the absolute truth.

It's not always that they scare me either. It is that I need to draw on their strength to feel safe. My son calms me some because he won't hurt me. But he can only do so much to comfort and protect me emotionally. My mother… well, she is the root of much of my neurosis, so the fact she may be better now doesn't change that. My Dad is sometimes the only one I feel safe around within the family.

It's all so complicated and confusing. It's bad enough I have even wondered about ECT to see if it will slow my thoughts. My quick wits have always been a source of pride, but my conscious cannot keep up and keeping bad ideas under control is impossible. The mind may only be able to think one thing at a time, but what it thinks can be hard to control. My therapist has tricks that help when I'm there, but they don't seem up to the task in the real world.

One of these days I have to get better. Because I can't live the rest of my life like this.

Labels: anxiety, dating, life, medication, relationships

These ideas are nightmares to white parents
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing, it's so scary in a house that allows
no swearing
To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he don't care
He's a problem child
And what bothers him all comes out, when he talks about
His fuckin' dad walkin' out
Cause he just hates him so bad that he blocks him out
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap
His step-father hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nose
His house is a broken home, there's no control, he just let's his emotions
go...

[Chorus]
{C'mon}, sing with me, {sing}, sing for the years
{Sing it}, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, {c'mon)
Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you
away...

Entertainment is changin', intertwinin' with gangsta's
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Holy or unholy, only have one homie
Only this gun, lonely cause don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are a
mothafucka they can be great
Or they can degrade, or even worse they can teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen
From standin' on corners and porches just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you
To get they hands on every dime you have, they want you to lose your mind
every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get me off
of these streets quickly
But all they kids be listenin' to me religiously, so I'm signin' cd's while
police fingerprint me
They're for the judge's daughter but his grudge is against me
If I'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesn't make sense Pete
It's all political, if my music is literal, and I'm a criminal how the fuck
can I raise a little girl
I couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to, you're full of shit too, Guerrera, that
was a fist that hit you...

[CHORUS]

They say music can alter moods and talk to you
Well can it load a gun up for you , and cock it too
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault and I'll get sued
See what these kids do is hear about us totin' pistols
And they want to get one cause they think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we really just protectin' ourselves, we entertainers
Of course the shit's affectin' our sales, you ignoramus
But music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our
checks in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it
How we can come from practically nothing to being able to have any fuckin'
thing that we wanted
That's why we sing for these kids, who don't have a thing
Except for a dream, and a fuckin' rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on their walls all day long
Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in their lives
Till they sit and they cry at night wishin' they'd die
Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they vibe
We're nothin' to you but we're the fuckin' shit in they eyes
That's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and
hold it
Cause we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our
songs and we can...


This is a song that got to me from the first time I ever heard it. I have a little bit of a prejudice because the chorus comes from my high school class song, so the song stuck out to me from the start. But the ideas behind it really fit my childhood. Hell, in a lot of ways I still relate.

I live kind of a double life. On one hand I have the kind of job that people think of as a suit and tie existence. People would expect me to live in a gated community and be a member of a country club. I should feel more comfortable in khakis and a polo than board shorts and a t-shirt. But the real me is more of a punk than a banker. If I wouldn't get blasted for it I'd have even more ink than I have now. Given the choice the only long pants I'd own would be jeans.

It's not a house that allows no swearing, but a life. People around me don't know how to take me because I'm not like them. I'm edgier, darker and more blunt. I'm honest to a fault. I have even had trouble at work because people expect me to be someone I'm not just because of my position. At the same time, I don't fit in with people who wouldn't be shocked by my attitudes either. I see nihilism for the sake of nihilism as idiotic. I don't want to be satisfied with just doing OK and just getting by.

The history of my musical taste tells my story. I was one of the few white kids listening to rap where I went to school, and as it went from more fun and games to darker and more violent my interest increased. Hell, I hated the fucking Beastie Boys when they came out, and when they outsold Run DMC I just about puked.

Where I'm from there were a few groups when it came to music. The main group was dirtbags listening to their Ozzy, AC/DC and Iron Maiden. I didn't have anything against the music, but the fans at the time seemed pretty brain-dead. Then there were the alternative kids, which just didn't have an edge at the time. It wasn't exactly pop, but it wasn't very dark at the time. We did have some country fans, but I just avoided them.

Anyway, I liked rap at first because it was different. It didn't fit in to any of the groups that were on campus, and I didn't feel like I fit in with any of them either. The fact is, I felt like a total outsider, and there was little more outside the mainstream at a school with almost no black students than rap.

But I had one problem with the music at first. All you ever heard was the typical bragging, just short of pop, rap. The more raw inner city stuff took a while to make it to a town like mine. I'm sure it was in the record stores before I knew about it, but it sure wasn't on the radio and even in the stores they never played it, so I didn't know about it. That was until I went to a Run DMC show.

Now, imagine this bill: Run DMC, DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, JJ Fad and Public Enemy. Kinda reminds me of one of those old Sesame Street “One of these things is not like the others” songs. I can't say I immediately got in to PE. The sound was awful in that arena and all we could really hear was Professor Grif apparently calling for all white people to be lynched. But the friend I went with was able to sift through that and he started listening to their music. And before long we were both hooked.

It wasn't long before we added in NWA, Too $hort and the like. Now my friend just really liked the fact it was, to him, black music. He was one of those guys. But for me what I loved was the raw emotion and often anger. I was a very angry kid even if nobody seemed to realize it. I'd had a pretty rough childhood including whole years that are blocked from my memory. I'd been basically disowned by my father at the age of 10. I'd lived in a household where my parents spent so much time worried about my siblings they had no idea that I was an emotional powder keg. Music with so much raw emotion really fit my mood. I can't say I know what it's like to be black because I don't. But I do know how it feels to be angry at how I was treated by life and authority. And the fact it was outside the mainstream for that town didn't hurt.

Now I still listen to the old stuff, with some of the newer, edgier music thrown in. I am not in to the bragging music so much because, seriously, who gives a shit. I've even made room for a lot of the metal that has an edge and intelligent lyrics. It's the guys that really dig down deep in to what they see and feel make it to my Ipod. It's all because I still feel like an outsider. I may have a total white collar job earning a good living, but I don't feel like I fit in any more than I did in high school. I usually do a decent job of faking it, but the people that really know me know that I am usually uncomfortable because I feel like the people around me don't really want me there. And in some cases that discomfort is a reason why some of them really don't.

The people that see where I am in life don't see the real me. Those who don't appreciate how I can be like I am and still be where I am don't like the real me. Sometimes I feel like I scare them because they feel like I shouldn't be able to be here and still feel the way I feel. But here I am and if I can get past all my bullshit here I will stay. And if they don't like that they can kiss my ass.

Labels: eminem, emotions, life, music, pain, rap

There's something funny going on right now. You may have noticed infrequent updates. In fact, I know lots of people stopped checking all together. Some even emailed to see if I was OK. As I have never actually been "OK" that was kind of a funny question. I am, however, still alive, still in therapy, still on medications and still single. But some people insist on checking all the time even though there aren't any updates.

The ones that like my writing and those that are concerned I appreciate. But other people are kind of funny. See, they want to see if I am going to write about them. They are petrified I am going to tell their stories. I find it hilarious that someone would be scared of having their story told because, the truth is, and the stories aren't, secrets. These people want their secret kept, but if I have the story, how fucking secret can it be. And who is going to know these huge secrets? It's all about random people who don't even really know who I am.

Now, of course, I could actually use real names, cities, addresses, even phone numbers. And with some of these stories there sure a chance some people might take a little interest in the person or persons involved. I know certain people have very strong feelings about some subjects and don't handle it very well when they hear certain things were done. And those law enforcement and government types… man they sure get nosy when they hear some stories.

I am not sure if they are paranoid (You know, some substances do cause that), obsessed or what. But the network logs all the visitors, so I know when they stop by. And other people using their computers notice what sites they visit, and they tell me when they find out about these little snooping missions.

But I don't have any secrets. All my facts are right here: good, bad and ugly. These people can't say the same thing. They think only a few people know the stories, and they get real scared of what will happen if they get out. But these juicy little secrets have found their way out, and they are getting around. And it all has nothing to do with me. I'd stop worrying about what I write because the parts I'd write would be the funny parts. It's the other stuff that could be life changing for you. It's also important to remember I'm not the one who could profit or benefit from those stories getting out. Sure I could generate a little blog buzz, but it wouldn't get me other things... tangible things... give me power over you. That very well could happen if the bullshit that keeps on happening and has happened for years doesn't stop.

I'm not trying to scare or threaten anyone. If I wanted to write these stories and out these people I'd have done it. But it's not my place and they aren't my stories. But I do want to get a little sense of reality in to a few minds that your past can be used against you, and the more you upset the people in your present the more likely you are to find out how true that is. What I write shouldn't scare you because it would only embarrass you while you read it. What some people say, and who they say it to, is something completely different.

Labels: nosey, paranoid, snoops

I'm scared to write.

I don't mean that in the way I have said certain stories aren't told because I am scared that the person or persons involved will unleash on me making me miserable and making this blog unreadable. The stories from my marriage aren't going to be told period, so why be scared. I don't write those stories because I don't want to. They are ours and ours alone.

But for some reason I have a problem when I even think about writing. I get scared and anxious. I hate that feeling. I have all these triggers, but to have writing, one thing I love and one thing I am good at, be one of them is making me miserable. I loved when hundreds of people read what I wrote every day. I even admit that I loved that some people would stay up and keep checking the page to see if I had written for the day yet.

I know that part of the problem is that when I write I think of her. When Scared Bunny stopped being a nightly read it was mostly because what I wanted to do was write for her. I know it seems strange, but it still seems my writing belongs to her, and I can't use it without her blessing. I don't mean her blessing telling stories. I mean her blessing to write at all. That's why I wrote those paid posts. I felt a little guilty writing them, but not near as guilty as I felt writing anything of substance.

A big part of me is trying to keep my whole life superficial right now. If I keep it shallow and I fall, the fall won't be too far. And I can't handle another fall.

Labels: fear, life, relationships, writing

I do believe that I have to be alone until I can learn how to be alone without being lonely.

And that truly scares me.