quantumdefender

[quantumdefender]

who created the bitter jaded man

They Say we are all born with a clean slate. That’s its up to us what we make of our lives. But, how much optimism are we actually supposed to be born with? Do we really get dealt a fair hand? Or do some of us keep getting dealt joker hands and told to just get over it, and play the hand your given?

I was raised, I like to think with loving parents. But my father came with his own baggage. From the stories I have heard from him, and my Aunt. He was abused, forced to run away from home. This was a time when child protective services was, prob in its own infancy. He had no one to turn to. He clearly had to live with that trauma as he was in true survival mode. Had to find humor and some situations where humor was prob not the right response. No doubt, my father was not ready by any means to be a dad. He passed his traumas on to me in the form of abuse. As an adult I can see it for what it was, and I can forgive now. But the child that was me never understood why I had such a bastard for a father.

Then he found my mother, clearly a light in his darkness. You could not find a better woman in my mother to this day, now a grandmother. Loving, sweet, generous to a fault. Forgiving and tolerant. Just a few traits that pop in my head at this writing. There is so much I want to say about my mother in a positive light, but this keyboard cannot hold all my tears. Just to sum up, most men should, and I do, when looking for female companionship compare their own mother as the standard to what a woman should be. To this day, I regret, the pain in the butt I was as a child, for I was no golden child, but I know with no question or doubt, she either forgave, or ignored my shortcomings, and for that I love her even more. Which can explain why she loved my father the way she did.

And there is yours truly, the oldest. Some would say because I was the oldest, I took most of the abuse. He may have mellowed by the time my siblings were born. which would be years later. But in that time but the time I was 4 years old, I think. I recall dimly the fateful day the Cult, I will always think of them as a controlling, unforgiving cult, you may have heard of them, they are called Jehovah’s witnesses.

Now, just to say something positive about this cult. My father needed it. He needed a father figure. I can see that now, cause from  what I hear, he was a MESS. I have no memory of him doing any drugs, but he was a heavy smoker, he chewed Tabacco, (one time when I was a barely older than a toddler, I asked him for some, and the asshole actually gave it to me, I recall throwing up all over a back seat of a car. My first Trauma) and of course he drank. Well, the cult has no tolerance for Tabacco users, so he managed to quit smoking and the chew. He may have cut down on his drinking, but he did not quit that. From what I could tell he cleaned himself a bit. If anyone says he had rough edges, I won’t doubt that. Dad could definitely have used some therapy. But the cult frowned on that.

Now, I do have good memories as well as bad, and painful memories of my father. But someone once said ‘every good moment must be purchased with an equal amount of pain’. Boy, my father was a prime example of that statement. The Beatings were fierce, I may have had some of them coming, but not only did he over do it. But most often, when I did have it coming, it was probable because I was acting out do to the last beating. The CULT always encouraged it by quoting that old scripture “ spare the rod, spoil the child”. My guess is he used it as an excuse to let loose all his own frustrations from his own youth.

Now because of my abuse, I never learned to defend myself. I was so afraid of being hit, I used to run from bullies. It wasn't till much lated I learned to defend myself. So I have abuse at home. Attacked by bullies at school. Brainwashing from the leaders of the Jehovah's witnesses. Where was my safe place? Where was my refuge? When I prayed to god? All I got was another beating. Nice way to beat faith out of someone in their youth.

Its also the reason I have trouble communicating with others. I ended up becoming an intovert.

As for my being raised this way, I came to really hate all religions, I am an atheist to this day. If I meet god when I die, I will expect at the very least an explanation, of why he lets kids go through this kind of trauma.

 Skip ahead now to my teenage years. And yea, I am skipping a lot. But I don’t know how long this urge to write will last. Now I admitted earlier I acted out, I had to vent somehow. You try bottling up years of what I went though already. Back then we had bowling alleys with video games. I got addicted to the games. Which brings me to something stupid. My mom had me go to the store to buy bagels and cream cheese. Well, I blew that money on the games. Then I had the not so bright idea to try and shoplift the bagels and cream cheese. Well folks, I am not a talented thief I thought I was. I was caught, parents called, the jig was up. Now, you average kid, would might have got a spanking, grounding something like that. But no, they had to tell the cult elders. I was labeled a bad influence in front of the whole congregation, and disassociated. (Now what that means is that I was shunned, like the amish. No one was allowed to speak to me from that point.) this means I had no one to even speak to, if I ever learned how to articulate what I was going through. The bullying never stopped, the beatings never stopped. And now, my father threatened to throw me out the house the second I turned 18.

At the lovely age of 16, I was now not already in survival mode, with the usual anxiety, but now I had a deadline. I dropped out of Brighton high school in the 9th grade, to get a crappy job with lousy pay to prepare to be thrown in the wild. Well, I was ready, I walked out of the family home a month before my 18 Birthday. (Oh by the way, at this point, Jehovahs witnesses don’t celebrate holidays or birthdays) yje only thing I could celebrate is the last beating from my father. We didn’t speak for over 7 years.

The roomate I ended up moving in with stole from me. I ended up homeless for a year before I swallowed my pride and moved in with my grandparents. (mother’s parents) I am thankful for them for leting me move in. How ever, my grandfather was an accountant. My grandmother invited me out to dinner one time. Great time. But when we got home, my grandfather told me what I owed him from the dinner. I was not ready for that one. From then on, when I was invited out to dinner or anything from anyone, my response was to turn it down.

Now, at this point, I am compelled to make note of a shameful part of my life. I did something monumentally stupid. I wont say what I did. But I got 2 year probation, and 3 years of therapy. It helped, and the court paid for it. But I could not afford more which I could have used. I haven't committed a crime since. But its still a regret that help get my head on straight a bit.

Now enters the best/worst part of my life.

As with anyone, you will likely have a series of jobs in their life. Some you remember with fond memories, some not so fond. Maybe one where you need a different category altogether. I had a job once at the Sheraton Tara hotel in Braintree. Its torn down now, but I have so many mixed memories, some were life lessons, some were exasperations, some memories were just a series of “what the hell” moments. And some memories were just heartbreaking, soul destroying memories. Yea that hotel had it all. It was where I had a crush, a strong one. But it was the beginning of learning how cruel women can be without even trying.

Now keep in mind the time, this was mid to late 1990’s. long before friend zoning was a term, but women did it. Long before women got caught making false sexual harassment Claims. This was a time where a woman could say the term “sexual harassment” and her word was gospel and men had no say, Men were not allowed to give their version of events.

Now, while I was working there, there was a cute Italian girl, Julie G. working in another department. So we only saw each other in passing, but she always had a smile when we encountered each other. I did my beast to be friendly, turn on what little charm I had. (lets face it, I never learned to flirt. Ok cut me some slack.) she always had time for a quick chat. I soon had a crush, but I kept it in check. Frankly I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing for a long time. Soon the months passed, maybe a year. She got moved to other departments.

Eventually, she moved to my department. She became my supervisor. I thought we made a great team. Our comradery made the days pass quickly. We chatted while we worked, we got to know each other well.

Well as coworkers do, sometimes they go out after work for drinks. We were working different shifts but I told he to call me when she went to bar I would meet the gang there. She never called. Now if you read this far, you should know, I don’t take being left out very well. I finally went to the bar. But when I got there, they were already in the parking lot and leaving. But I got over it the next day, but that should have been a red flag for me. But I ignored it.

I eventually found the guts to tell her how I feel. We went for a drive one night and I spilled the beans. She actually tried to teach me how to drive her Jeep. It was a stick shift. I was scared to ruin the night by destroying her jeep so I surrendered. I should have realized she was trying to change the subject with this move. In hindsight, this was another red flag I ignored.

Then when my Birthday was approaching, she gave her notice. I figured this was my chance to get a date to say goodbye properly, I asked her out, she smiled and said we’ll see. My birthday arrived, I went and bought a suit, and flowers, I was going to take to a restaurant and a movie. At least that was the plan.

Went to work that morning. She was outside smoking, but she had the worst poker face. I realized my money spent on my suit and flowers went down the drain. But I kept a stiff upper lip, and went to work. Sometime after lunch, I got a call on the radio and a guest needed help. Went to that location, opened the door. There was a lit birthday cake. Right then and there I saw her plan. She never wanted to date me. And she thought a cake would soften the blow. It didn’t. I just wanted to get out of there before I snapped. And my coworkers kept getting in the way. I finally shouted “I don’t want to a have my birthday in this God forsaken hotel.” They got the hint and backed off. But the damage was done.

I cooled off when I got home. I tried to call her, but her roommate would not listen to me, would not let me get a word in. she just kept insulting me without having a clue.

A week after she quit, I got called to HR, and got a 45-minute lecture on sexual harassment. But I saw it for what it was. She didn’t have the guts to tell me to my face she didn’t want to see me ever again. So she had HR do it for her. Sitting in HR getting that speech, can you Imagine how degrading and traumatizing it was to just be there as the light goes on in your head?

And then, before I can have time to process what I went though. The next couple of days later she shows up to visit her coworkers at the hotel, she is standing at the door in the kitchen, and says hello with a damn smile on her face like she did no wrong. I had no words. I just walked past her with the events of HR still in my head. Went to work in another room with tears of frustration of loss getting in the way of my vision. She wasn’t sorry in the least.

She never got the flowers, I never wore my suit. I ended up burning it weeks later trying to burn away the pain. It didn’t work. I tied a few times to ask other girls out, but I never had a date. I never had a relationship. At most, I got stood up a few times with online dating sites over the years. No apologies.

I lived with the loneliness and depression, and abandonment in silence. Who would believe me? Years and a decade or 2 passed. Now its 2024. Now we hear on the news about Amber Heard, destroying the credibility and reputation of the #metoo movement, over her antics with Johnny Depp. One day I read an article on the internet about women trying to repress men’s Freedom of speech. I don’t recall much detail except for a comment about feminists being behind a lot of false accusations against men. but now, men are silent no more, men are pushing back.  I realized then, that was what was done to me. She got what she wanted at the expense of my peace of mind. Julie G was my amber Heard.

I pride myself on the little fact I did not spend a dime on gas over the years on stalking her. Everyone always thought the worst of me. They all expected me to be a monster, but at most, I am but a ghost. But I doubt my memory will haunt anyone. I did decide to google her, and found out she was a Spanish teacher  and a guidance counselor! Add to that she got a vacation with her students in the Dominican Republic! The thought  that she could be messing with other kids minds? Well, I went stir crazy in my apartment. I hit a low. I wrote a whole essay (not this one) about women. I read it back to myself and ended up deleting it. But you could say I found my writing mojo.

Anyway, as of this writing (ok typing) I am 55, I have not seen a doctor in decades, but I think my health is sub par, I think I have nerve damage in my hands from childhood thanks to dads beatings and me trying to protect myself. Back pain. I am reduced to buying arthritis pain Motrin regularly. My eyesight has never been that great. And If I could afford therapy I bet they would say I not only have depression and anxiety, I think I got an eating disorder now.

Thanks to not ever having a girlfriend, as of this writing, I kept my expenses low. I don’t have a nest egg, chances are I’ll be dead of natural causes before I am old enough to collect social security. But I pay the balance of my credit cards every month. So I managed to avoid the interest trap thus far. Being a computer technician pays ok. But I have no ambition for more. I have some talent for self reflection, being alone your whole life will do that. But no ideas on how to fix all my flaws. And frankly at this late point in my life, why try? Women never wanted me when I was at my best. Which I am not now. I got enough saving to pay for my own cremation. I wont have a funeral, no one would show unless there was free food. If I died today, my mother and siblings and their kids would show. That’s about it. If anyone else were to show, it would be to point out all my failings, and free food. But I can do that myself so no thanks very much.

But why cremation you may ask? Who would visit my grave? No one visits me now.

So what have I learned in this life? Pain. God if he exists, is like a deadbeat parent. Women consider it a sport to hurt and abandon those that need them the most. The best place to scream out your frustrations is Blue hills reservation. Never tell an ugly stripper you will pay her if she will get off you. Asking a niece for a hug is like pulling teeth. Your nephews throw toys, Duck. Don’t Try to give them any life wisdom they just want to play. Anyone who says your negative, likely was born with a silver spoon up their butt. Anyone who says forget the past, had a poor memory to begin with.

As I write this essay, it with the intention that it be a script to use when I make make youtube video, that can be played for those that want to attend my funeral. I really doubt I will have one. The family that will miss me is small unless you count spouses. We the exception of 2 aunts, the rest can’t be bothered to give me the time of day. I can count on one hand how many friends would give a damn, if I cuts off a couple of fingers.

As for where I am headed? Well, my life was hell. The rent in heaven is too high. So I guess its dust for me.

What did one shepherd say to the other? Lets get the flock out of here. Peace