I Am Blessed

This is what I know.

     I know I can't keep lying to myself. I know I'm not happy. The accumulation of my consequences has outgrown any possible benefit I have in denying it. I attempted at killing an ant colony one ant at a time and it's left me with a lawn full of ant hills and a body covered in ant bites. I know it is time to dig up my lawn, destroy the facade I keep so dear to myself, and start over with fresh dirt if I ever hope to have grass as green as the other side's. 

This is what I know.

     I know I have no idea what I'm doing. I know I've given up. For years I struggled. I strived for the best: food, friends, alcohol, clothes and drugs. And now what? I've grown complacent. I've grown tired. I've grown angry and frustrated, and tired and annoyed, and scared and tired. And why? I stare into the faces of people who whine and bitch about their lives, and wish my life onto them so they can see how utterly pathetic their cries are, and yet, I fail to realize that their pain, albeit confusing to me, is valid. I don't find The Exorcist scary, but that doesn't mean I can completely disregard you there hiding behind the couch after she f@$&s herself in the panini with a crucifix. Your fear is real. I have to learn to do more than accept it--I have to learn to respect it. In giving your fear a face, in learning its name, I hope to recognize my own, if only, to combat it. 

This is what I know. 

     I know there are those few poor shmucks, that despite how far I fall, despite the bitter words of hate and contempt I spit at them, they still seem to light a candle for me at mass. They keep me in their prayers and their opinion of me never falters despite my every attempt to burn that bridge. I've learned to use this push and pull from my loved ones as a test of sincerity. To what end will you love me?  The most frightening thing for me, being the fact that there are indeed people who've yet to give up on me.  They stagger on, towards me like an army of the undead: burnt, mangled, and starved. And while their salivating gnarls are scary as shit, they are only traits that I impose onto them. I know I don't deserve them, thus beginning the most malicious off catch-22's. I push out of shame, and they love despite. So I push out of more shame, and they love despite. So I push and they love so I push and they love. I'm a monster. 

This is what I know.

     I know I know nothing. I know it's time to change that. I know I must press on. I know I owe certain people more than I can give, and I know they'd never expect me to pay them back. I know I am lucky. I know I am loved. I know I am a brother, a son, a friend, a man. And for this I am blessed. 

This is what I know.