Just Another Animal [Connor's Journal]

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor || Crayze || Sykes

“Each and every one of us has a fire that burns inside us and they can try like hell to put out that flame but as long as in our minds we know who we are meant to be, they don’t stand a chance.”
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Unknown

I can't remember what happened the day I was diagnosed, can't conjure up the thought--the reality--that my life decided it wanted to jump off the face of the earth. I can't decipher the meaning, understand why I'm the one dying. I'm not able to recall the last proper conversation I had with my father. It had to be before mom died, before Adam shot himself in the head and they hauled Christy off to foster care, saving at least her from being mauled by the monster Jon was becoming. The monster he became. It's hard to believe that it's been a little over three years since the tragedies struck, hard to believe that at one point in my ebbing life, I was actually happy.

April 5, 2011

At times, you wonder what makes you who you are. People, influences, just the idea that you're losing your fucking mind. Strike one for me, I must be officially insane. A seventeen year old guy journaling? Yeah, I've lost it. But something about being able to speak out with words of silence, being able to control myself for once. Something about the freedom, no set backs. Being able to attempt to block the horrors of my life. The knowledge that, at any given moment, my body can just decide it's done and shut down.. Heart, lungs, all my working organs. Fine one moment, dead the next. Crazy, right? But I'm not afraid of dying, no longer afraid of the constant beatings from my father. No. I'm afraid of never having something to live for in the first place. I'm afraid of being forgotten.

Connor

JACK from caution 2.0 made this gorgeous template.

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[connor crayze sykes]

Unknown

Makes you wonder, makes you think real hard. About who you are, about what you're doing. About why everything seems so old and routine. The same stuff over and over. Familiar sights to see, the same bridges to cross. It's like you're running in circles, while the whole world revolves around you. Taking the same turns day after day, wishing to be a part of what you see. Wondering what anything is anymore, if you're a part of anything that matters. You're simply stuck in the memories that seem so much more alive than now. Waiting for your train to break off track. Waiting to find some meaningful change. And realizing that life isn't an advertised paradise, it's reality.

Sometimes for me, the hurt grows so strong I can't even breathe. The power of wishing, imagining, that things will get better in time. That if I remained steadfast and take the blows that come my way, the pain will eventually become an indifference. But sometimes the hurt grows so strong that I get scared. I run and hide. And then, I cry.

Connor

[connor crayze sykes]

Unknown

I'll never forget the day that door pretty much closed on my life forever. I was nine. Mother had taken Adam to soccer practice and Christy was just a wisp within her. Just a tiny, precious being, starting to grow. I listened as the car engine started up, watched them pull out. Jon's hand fell, heavy against my shoulder. 'Come here Connor, I want to show you something.' Back then, Jon wasn't just my father, he was my dad. Of course I listened. He showed me how to use meth multiple ways that day. But as I said before, I was nine, didn't know right from wrong. And then he showed me the blade, sharp against my shoulder. I didn't know what being high meant, what crazy was. He was both and he drew blood, made me cry. 'Don't go telling Mommy, though. You might make her jealous.' Hardly, and I still have the scar today. Some part of me knew none of this was right. I had never seen Jonathan like that. But I listened to him, didn't tell. Because in all truth, I was afraid. Afraid that that door would close on us forever if I did. Afraid she would walk out. So what if I had told the first time it happened instead of the second, or third? Could she have stopped it? Could she have saved us? Sorry, mother dear, but you're dead now just like Adam. And once again I'm alone with Jon. This time I know it's all wrong. So why do I keep going back for more?

Connor

[connor crayze sykes]

Unknown

It's funny how we always wish time away. I'm at that age where we all just wanna grow up you know? Can wait to be old enough to do whatever shit we want. But despite how much we want to grow up and do 'grown up' things, we're afraid of getting older. I guess that means I'll be forever young, but whatever. And then you have those parents or adults who say they will never go back to their teen years, while we're all sitting here stressed about growing old. We want to live the life, follow our dreams. But nobody wants to die. It's a confusing fucking paradox of achieving your dreams, if that makes any sense. We want things, but we don't want to deal with the things that come with those things we want. It's this big dramatic eye-for-an-eye scenario. None of us wants to start the chain, but none of us want it to end because that leads us to the unknown and makes things unfair. But life has never been fair. We have to play the hand that we've been dealt.

A game of poker, chance, lies, deceit. Been there done that, still do always will. Until my last breath. That's how I get by. I hate everything about myself. But that doesn't mean I'll change, I'll never change. I'm just like everyone else. I'm afraid of change.

Connor

[connor crayze sykes]

Unknown

I don't know what's happened to me, honestly. My emotions are chaos, I'm confused and scared. I fell in love again far too fast and I'm just going to keep screwing it up. I never asked to live this life. I never asked for a lot of things, but I especially didn't ask to hurt him along the way... he deserves so much better than gashed up hips and a broken heart. I don't want to leave him or our little girl, but I don't want to die on him either... He's scared, or bothered or something. Can't put my finger on it but I know it's my fault. That's not a surprise, of course. I'm a royal fuck up, probably the highest there is.

It's always my fault. Maybe I was made to screw things up. We give ourselves this image of perfection and shit, but really what do we have? Eyes, ears, lungs. Whatever, half of me doesn't even fucking work anymore. I'm screwed. Half the people on this planet are screwed. Maybe I should stop complaining, keep my damned mouth shut for once. Whining won't get my brother back, won't erase my mistakes. Won't even save my life or the hearts of the ones I love.

I just... don't want anybody hurt because of me anymore, especially Deacon. I told him I would get better, I'm sure as hell trying. It's scary. How long will these transplants last? Everybody thinks life is this thing we happen to have, but guess what? It's not a fucking right, and it's not all rainbows and candy, either. It's a fucked up little thing we go through that challenges our strength and durability every day, tests us to our wits end. And you know what? Life is a helluva lot harder when you've been ripped off. For me, love and life will never be heaven, because I'm already in Hell.

Connor