Fighting Demons

I don’t like to put too much of myself out in the open at once when I'm writing. It gets boring, to be honest, to read horror every damn time you turn around. You need to laugh, sometimes you don't realize how much time has gone by that you haven't even cracked a smile. I am often considered slightly off my rocker, which I accept happily. Better that than to be regarded as “the crazy sonofabitch”. I have lived too much in one lifetime to be believed. It’s a common thing for those who haven’t had the kind of childhood I did to disregard the more fantastic details of my life out of hand, to smile knowingly and think “Bobbe’s exaggerating a bit”.

I’m sorry to say this but the truth is, I’m holding back. You couldn’t handle it if I told the tale. My own wife can’t.

Also, I write of this stuff sparingly because frankly, I’m STILL HERE. It didn’t kill me. Really, I’m okay now…Maybe not as much as someone with real parents, but still…I’ve seen way worse. Everything I have surrounding me in my life now is a result of my looking for something else to do with myself. And THAT is a result of somebody else looking me in the eyes and saying “I believe in you. Keep going. I’ll see you on the other side”.

And here we are, going on 18 years now since I needed to feel that rage in myself. So to me, the person I was back in the day seems so distant, like a dim memory of another life, Like watching a movie about someone else or a vivid dream you had years ago that has since clouded into forgetfulness.

I have been written to in several private emails about my post, “Turning Off the Wheel”. Who was Sam? Was he real? Did I invent him? Was I he? Did I really kill someone? Did any of that really happen?

Oh yes.

And believe it or not, you got the PG version.

The unrated director’s cut ain’t gonna come out anytime soon.

Samael is the ancient demon of lies and destruction, and is often believed to be the equal to Satan himself. I did indeed invent him…When I was 12. He stuck around until I was around 23 or 24, an unwelcome dinner guest that hurt everybody and spit in the pot roast. I willingly adorned myself with a demon’s skin, not knowing that it wouldn’t come off as easily. There are some parts of my life that are public record, and can EASILY be found in the police archives of Charleston, North Myrtle Beach, Cherokee and Columbia, South Carolina. It reads like a one-man performance of Helter Skelter. I needed something to make me numb to feeling things, and the red-eyed reaper fit the bill for me. And true to form, by the time I was 17 I was a murderous ball of hatred and rage, always walking around with my teeth clenched and blood in my eye. In my world there were two categories of people: Enemies, and those who didn’t inspire an overwhelming need to ram a knife into their guts…Yet.

The reason I chose the title “Turning Off the Wheel” is because I believe that’s the one thing people who live through horrific times most forget to do. I mean, we all have to become someone else at some point in our lives, there are no exceptions. We wear a fake smile. We kiss someone’s ass. We lie to a potential love/mate/friend. We assume the mantle of a demon, because it is only that which can save us. But we are not ourselves.

I see it around me every day. Sometimes we get to the place we thought we wanted to be, and discover we hate who we have become, and regret what we have sacrificed to get there. This isn’t how it looked from the outside, and we want our money back.

But there’s a catch.

Easy enough to SAY “just stop being like this”, difficult to do. For starters, life in general can usually make a killer out of a nice person without much effort, given the right circumstances. As I write this, a boy with too much baggage and not enough guidance has shot his high school girlfriend for some stupid reason, before killing himself. Do you want to know the answer why some adults or children go off the deep end, sometimes hurting or killing other human beings?

If you were to ask them for the reason, they would not be able to tell you because they themselves do not know the answer. That is because the real answer is invisible, even to them. It is because after searching every dark corner of their own hearts, minds and souls, even they could not think, feel or find "one" single reason not to do it.

Somewhere in that invisible answer is the condition causing the problem.

So imagine for a moment what it must take to DRIVE someone to be like this all the time, every day. The constant feeling of dread that blossoms into a self-defense mechanism complete with moat, wall and drawbridge. You are this person. And you stay like that for, oh, let’s say 7 years.

Now say, “Okay, I want to stop and go back to normal”.

But wait…You’ve been this…Thing…for several years now. What is the process for stopping it? Did anybody come out of the woodwork to drive you back to normalcy with love and friendship? Did a wise, all-knowing teacher appear and begin to instruct you on the ways of peaceful living? Did God send a bolt of enlightenment, or maybe an Angel to help you?

No?

Then how do you expect others to do it? There are no manuals for this kind of thing, and it’s frequently too scary for regular counselors to approach. They might get some of it on them.

You can not take a wolf who was raised in the wild, drop it into the middle of downtown and expect it to eat at a nice restaurant, using proper table manners.

So without even knowing what they are doing, or why, these hardened people will continue through life without regard for others because that’s what passes for normalcy for them. They will hurt (and sometimes kill) indifferently, without thinking of the consequences. It’s kinda like the PTSD ‘Nam vets sometimes have.

They don’t know how to begin to turn off the wheel.

Now, I will readily admit, here and now: I was lucky. People around me bent over backwards and broke themselves trying to bring me back to the person they saw inside me. Many of them failed, by the way, and I only recognized what they were attempting later on in life as I crawled back out of the lovely pit of worms I had dug for myself. As I get older, I see some of the same character traits in others, some to a lesser degree, others to a more frightening one. There are some I have reached out to, others I have just averted my eyes and said “I think I’ll just let that one pass.”

My story isn’t the worst one I know. You would not believe what I have seen come through the orphanage in my time, and I hear it’s only gotten worse since then. And there were too many people I loved who didn’t make it out at all.

So; This one is for Terry, Kevin, Robert and Ronnie, Charles, Troy, Brenda, Pierce, Jerome, LeTroy, Sandy, Kelly, Karen, Russell, Kim, Taryl, Brent, and Shane. Some of you who were taken before your time, others who live now only in my memories. All of you who I loved and have not forgotten:

When you fight demons, be careful not to become the thing you most hate.