Superhero Down

Superhero Down Pt 5

This brief tale of a supposed superhero’s low periods comes to an end with this…

That paper was what I had just flung across the room. The same paper was the very reason for the state I was in now. Today had been too much for me. It was one thing to have close shaves and still get the job done and it was another to fail completely while you thought you were on a roll.

I used to be untouchable and flawless. Everything I did was perfect; I was a work of God that no one even thought was possible. I beat all kinds of odds, broke records, survived my father’s irresponsible behavior and finally managed to kick him out of the house at age ten! I gave my mum her life back and I became an awesome person! I’m awesome, dammit I’m a hero! So why the hell is this tripping me up so badly?

Better question: why did Chris have to do this to me? I never even knew about the stupid models before he showed up! I was a pure, innocent person, living my life in the purest way possible. I never broke any laws, I never even cussed! I didn’t even know what erotica was until this fool called Chris got caught watching it and curiosity got the best of me. Why did this boy have to come into my life and bring me this hell?

It finally hit me; this must be what happens to people who everyone relies on, people who are a source of inspiration to others. I could not talk to anyone about this, not even mum, especially not mum! I’d much rather be burnt at the stake than have an earful of righteous talk which I am all-too familiar with, being a member of a church that welcomes everyone until they know what the everyone has done and where the everyone has been.

I couldn’t afford to make a mistake; I’m supposed to be superhuman for crying out loud! People have bigger problems: drug and/or alcohol addictions, marital issues, struggles in their walks with God and I’m the go-to guy for advice, like I’m some soothsayer with problem-solving skills! I’m not even the damn church counselor! Why did I have to be the one everyone held in high regard? Why couldn’t I just be the young man trying to find his way in life like everyone else, as human as I possibly could be?

Chris had nothing to do with this; this was me. This was me unable to pass a simple test. This was me not noticing when each ounce of my self-control was lost. This was me telling everyone else how to deal with this and yet taking no time to figure out how to deal with this for myself, with or without help. This was me living out a case of Stockholm’s Syndrome where my captors were not even near me!

Maybe I could keep the computer outside my room; then I wouldn’t have to look at it till I need it. Bailey, don’t be silly. You dragged the laptop from the study table across the room. What makes you think you would not take it from wherever you put it just so you could watch partake in the unholy bump and grind? Is my cloud of perfection just a case of hidden pride or ego or just a desperate attempt to remain loved by everyone?

Then Martha popped up in my head. She did say she was there if I wanted to talk. Bet she had no idea what was really going on and if I told her, she would most likely use the word I did not want to hear, that stupid, sad, degrading A word that people called themselves to admit they had a problem! I’m not one of them; I do not have a problem.

My eyes were already closing because today had drained me of all my strength. The physical effects of constantly watching the lust birds did more harm to me than good after all.

I woke up with a resolve: I was going to talk to Martha. I couldn’t continue to kid myself that I was superhuman. Something had to give for me to finally have the peace of mind I so longed for. If I was going to have any chance of being free, this was the only way.

I sat up on my bed and was just about to pick up my phone and call Martha when my mum barged in with a look that was a cross between confusion, pure anger and total shock.

“Bailey, what is this?”

I sat there in complete shock, unable to open my mouth or to hear anything else that flowed out of hers. I knew it was over; there was no one else to pin this on. Chris had been at camp for three weeks and mum had left her phone at home while she went with a group of friends to a fasting retreat last week. The only one who could have done this was me.

I sat and watched as she launched her missiles at me, not knowing what to say about how my favorite video of the finest of unclad bodies landed on her phone along with fifteen others.

Ouch! Quite an unfortunate ending to that. As to whether Bailey will get the help he needs, or will sink into depression, it’s open to interpretation.

But one thing is for sure: the best of us aren’t superheroes, and we’ll always need help. If you’ve got an addiction, don’t keep it to yourself, and don’t avoid the truth of admitting it. That’s a step towards recovery. Remember, those things you’re addicted to will always over-promise and under-deliver.

Big gratitude to Makafui for this telling tale!!

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