Ever get a song, or even a fragment of a song stuck in your head? Of course you have, unless you live a music free life, which would be horrible. These are some lines of songs that have been floating around in my head lately. I don't remember song titles, but I will list the artist if I know it. "I hope she knows I have this memory" - Blue October. "When they come for me I'll be sittin' at my desk with a gun in my hand, wearin' a bullet proof vest, thinkin' my, my, my how the time does fly when you know your gonna die by the end of the night" - Streetlight Manifesto. "My words, they pour, like children to a playground, children to a playground" - Blue October. Yeah, I've been listening to a lot of Blue October. My favorite song, currently, is Breakfast After Ten. "Hang up the phone!"
Betrayal. It is all around us, inhabits us and is part of us. We betray, sometimes innocently and without purpose. Sometimes deliberately. Sometimes we betray by running away from something else and run headlong into betrayal. When it comes, it comes with force. It pounds and crushes our spirit. It is relentless in its pursuit of our destruction. I have betrayed, without wanting to, but I will not say that I was innocent. I betrayed out of fear and laziness. Someone dear to me gave me the opportunity to go beyond where I was, to take up a task for her that was overwhelming her and I agreed to do so. Ultimately, I lied; I did not go and she was crushed. And now I am being left. She has betrayed - she has in my estimation lied. I do not count her as innocent. The question is, did she mean it and how long will it continue. Probably for however long our dying relationship has to go. I am sick of swimming in the blackness of betrayal and I desperately want to come up for air.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
I have always* said that life is not fair. Now I know that what I've been saying is true. I have been thinking of the basic unfairness of my life, and I feel petty doing so. I whine about things: "it's not fair that the woman who never wanted kids is going to take them away, at least part time, from the man for whom kids are his life"; "It's not fair that I have to go through this situation that I never wanted." The list could go on. And, yes I know it is not fair that a woman had to endure tremendous pressure feeling as if the man in her life wasn't there for her, etc.
So What?! People go through crap. Some people, I would venture most people, in this world go through much worse crap than I have to. I realize that thinking about the pain of others is cold comfort when you are hurting or feeling sorry for yourself, but in the bright light of the day I have to realize that while my pain is significant to me, it is nothing in the realm of possible pain. Yes, I have lost my wife. Yes, I am losing my home. Yes, I have lost my pride. Yes, I am losing some face time with my kids. No, these are not the worst pains in the world, only my world.
I have to reach up and move beyond my pain. I have to understand that pain is a part of life and stop railing against it; that I should better spend my time learning to adjust, accommodate, and grow despite and because of the pain. I will fall, and I will fail, the ache in my heart will continue, but as long as I inch forward I can be OK. Now, If only I could get my heart to see what my head sees...
* Obviously not always, but rather a long time. I guess it is just easier to say "always" instead of saying "for a really long, but unspecified length of time."
So What?! People go through crap. Some people, I would venture most people, in this world go through much worse crap than I have to. I realize that thinking about the pain of others is cold comfort when you are hurting or feeling sorry for yourself, but in the bright light of the day I have to realize that while my pain is significant to me, it is nothing in the realm of possible pain. Yes, I have lost my wife. Yes, I am losing my home. Yes, I have lost my pride. Yes, I am losing some face time with my kids. No, these are not the worst pains in the world, only my world.
I have to reach up and move beyond my pain. I have to understand that pain is a part of life and stop railing against it; that I should better spend my time learning to adjust, accommodate, and grow despite and because of the pain. I will fall, and I will fail, the ache in my heart will continue, but as long as I inch forward I can be OK. Now, If only I could get my heart to see what my head sees...
* Obviously not always, but rather a long time. I guess it is just easier to say "always" instead of saying "for a really long, but unspecified length of time."
Monday, March 19, 2007
Dear JCMY
There is so much I would like to say, but haven't the ability to say to so that you will hear it. This is just one way, I suppose, of rationalizing why I haven't said these things to you all at once. I hope you understand.
I still remember the day I met you. I had asked your mom for an introduction the night we'd first met and it was shortly after that you and I met. As the days and weeks went by, you easily climbed into my heart. I knew I was in trouble when you first called me dad. I have been yours ever since. It doesn't matter one bit that you are not my biologic child, you are mine in so many more important ways. You, of all the boys, I chose. While I do not mean to diminish the love I hold for them, they did not offer the opportunity that you did - to chose to love someone, fully and wholly, without regret or condition. Perhaps this is silly distinction to you, but it is important to me. You were 18 months old when we met and I remember it like yesterday.
I freely admit that I made many mistakes with you. It is not an excuse, but I was a young and unprepared father. I guess just like every other father in the world. I remember trying to teach you things and to set boundaries. I want to ask you to forgive me for those mistakes. If I had it to do over again, I would have done some things differently. As I did them differently with your brothers. But I wish I hadn't made those mistakes. The memory of you crying, not understanding, still screams through my memory. I do not think I was cruel. I know I was loving and kind most of the time. I just wish I'd done some things differently. Truth be told, you probably have no idea what I am talking about. I ask for your forgiveness anyway.
I remember the joy you brought me as one of those young and unprepared fathers. I remember your sitter, who spoke only Spanish, passing on Spanish I could not understand. "bobpo's," and other words you knew and I did not. You were a beautiful child and it warms my heart to think back and remember those times. The baseball games, football games, rollerblade hockey, ice skating, world series games, everything. You opened whole worlds to me and I am thankful for that.
Enough memories, though, and on to the present. I wish you could see the ache in my heart. I wish you could see the desires I hold for you. I wish you could feel the hope I have for you. I wish you could understand the love I have for you. I wish you could see what I see.
In my heart and mind, you held so much promise. You athletic skill is great; I love that you can look at a football field and see it like a general sees a battlefield, and you adjust accordingly. You are intelligent. Maybe not in the tradition, straight A sense, but you are smart. You could argue a starving man out of his last piece of bread. You have the ability to listen to an argument and turn it around on you opponent. You are social and can easily fit yourself into many different situations and different strata of society. You are a hard worker and do an excellent job.
It saddens me that you are not living up to you abilities. I know, none of us can always live up to our potential and abilities. But at least we make a run at it. where as I think you run from it. I believe that it is never too late, and that you can do so much with what God has given you. I am not sure why you run from your potential, but I have some ideas. As always, feel free to correct me if necessary.
First, I think the death of your grandfather was devastating to you. I know you two were very close and his untimely passing , I believe, set in motion things you can barely describe, let alone manage. I think it made you teen years that much more difficult and unsteady. I think, by the way, that his death had a devastating effect on our family as a whole, but that is another topic. I think you still grieve, and to some extent do not know how to handle the pain and emotion, so you run from it. By running from it, you run from yourself, your responsibilities and your potential. You do things, you know what I am talking about, that help you to forget; or at least to push the pain and emotion to the side, so that it doesn't have to be dealt with.
Second, I think you are afraid to fail. This is a common enough emotion, but for some reason, it is magnified in you. Perhaps it is that you have succeeded so well in the physical challenges of your life - sports, physical tasks - that the prospect of failure is too much to consider. I don't think you realize that we push forward as much through our failures as our successes. I have failed miserably on any number of occasions. It helped make me who I am. What is important is not getting knocked off the horse, but how we get back on the horse - and keep getting on the horse until we succeed.
Third, I think you have given up on yourself. I think that you think no one believes in you, so why should you bother. I will take some blame. I have fallen into the pit of always hammering the bad that you do and not reminding you often enough of your potential. I am sorry. I think you think that you are not loved - more so after your grandfather died. But you are loved, and very much.
Lastly, I think you have given up on hope, at least to a certain extent. I know you have made statements that you no longer believe in God, Heaven of Hell. I think this is a reflection of two things. I think it is a side effect of a loss of hope, perhaps brought on by disappointment that God did not let Poppop live longer. I also think that, like many of us, when we are doing things we know to be wrong, we reject the final authority of right and wrong.
In summary, JCMY, I want you to know that I love you. I want you too see the young man I see - the young man buried beneath the exterior that you portray. I want you to see that you are handsome, intelligent, and blessed with numerous skills. I want you to see that you can and do bring so much joy to those around you. I also want you to stop running, to mature and to stop destroying yourself. I want you to stop doing those things that bring harm to you, discord to yourself and your family and limit your potential. I want you to do what you yourself stated a need to do: "...Wake the F*** UP!" I want you to get right with God. Make peace with Him and forgive Him. I want you to make peace with the death of your grandfather. I want you to make peace with what you call your demons, those demons that hold you back from being the person that you were meant to be. Mostly, I want you to succeed in your life, and by succeed, I mean to live a happy productive life, full of happiness and challenge.
I am here for you and will not go away. I will not always give you what you want, but the things that I do, I do out of Love for you and a desire to see the best in your life. Sure, I fail in my goals, but I will keep trying. I will try to be the best dad I can be, no matter what happens in this life. We will argue and fuss, we will disagree with actions you take and actions I take. We will yell at times. We will be at odds with one another, but all that is what life brings. Through it all, I love you and want you to succeed in your life. I will not tell you what dreams to pursue, or how to pursue them, except when I see the dream as self destructive and the way deadly. Otherwise, go after your dreams and be the man I know you can be.
Love,
Dad
I still remember the day I met you. I had asked your mom for an introduction the night we'd first met and it was shortly after that you and I met. As the days and weeks went by, you easily climbed into my heart. I knew I was in trouble when you first called me dad. I have been yours ever since. It doesn't matter one bit that you are not my biologic child, you are mine in so many more important ways. You, of all the boys, I chose. While I do not mean to diminish the love I hold for them, they did not offer the opportunity that you did - to chose to love someone, fully and wholly, without regret or condition. Perhaps this is silly distinction to you, but it is important to me. You were 18 months old when we met and I remember it like yesterday.
I freely admit that I made many mistakes with you. It is not an excuse, but I was a young and unprepared father. I guess just like every other father in the world. I remember trying to teach you things and to set boundaries. I want to ask you to forgive me for those mistakes. If I had it to do over again, I would have done some things differently. As I did them differently with your brothers. But I wish I hadn't made those mistakes. The memory of you crying, not understanding, still screams through my memory. I do not think I was cruel. I know I was loving and kind most of the time. I just wish I'd done some things differently. Truth be told, you probably have no idea what I am talking about. I ask for your forgiveness anyway.
I remember the joy you brought me as one of those young and unprepared fathers. I remember your sitter, who spoke only Spanish, passing on Spanish I could not understand. "bobpo's," and other words you knew and I did not. You were a beautiful child and it warms my heart to think back and remember those times. The baseball games, football games, rollerblade hockey, ice skating, world series games, everything. You opened whole worlds to me and I am thankful for that.
Enough memories, though, and on to the present. I wish you could see the ache in my heart. I wish you could see the desires I hold for you. I wish you could feel the hope I have for you. I wish you could understand the love I have for you. I wish you could see what I see.
In my heart and mind, you held so much promise. You athletic skill is great; I love that you can look at a football field and see it like a general sees a battlefield, and you adjust accordingly. You are intelligent. Maybe not in the tradition, straight A sense, but you are smart. You could argue a starving man out of his last piece of bread. You have the ability to listen to an argument and turn it around on you opponent. You are social and can easily fit yourself into many different situations and different strata of society. You are a hard worker and do an excellent job.
It saddens me that you are not living up to you abilities. I know, none of us can always live up to our potential and abilities. But at least we make a run at it. where as I think you run from it. I believe that it is never too late, and that you can do so much with what God has given you. I am not sure why you run from your potential, but I have some ideas. As always, feel free to correct me if necessary.
First, I think the death of your grandfather was devastating to you. I know you two were very close and his untimely passing , I believe, set in motion things you can barely describe, let alone manage. I think it made you teen years that much more difficult and unsteady. I think, by the way, that his death had a devastating effect on our family as a whole, but that is another topic. I think you still grieve, and to some extent do not know how to handle the pain and emotion, so you run from it. By running from it, you run from yourself, your responsibilities and your potential. You do things, you know what I am talking about, that help you to forget; or at least to push the pain and emotion to the side, so that it doesn't have to be dealt with.
Second, I think you are afraid to fail. This is a common enough emotion, but for some reason, it is magnified in you. Perhaps it is that you have succeeded so well in the physical challenges of your life - sports, physical tasks - that the prospect of failure is too much to consider. I don't think you realize that we push forward as much through our failures as our successes. I have failed miserably on any number of occasions. It helped make me who I am. What is important is not getting knocked off the horse, but how we get back on the horse - and keep getting on the horse until we succeed.
Third, I think you have given up on yourself. I think that you think no one believes in you, so why should you bother. I will take some blame. I have fallen into the pit of always hammering the bad that you do and not reminding you often enough of your potential. I am sorry. I think you think that you are not loved - more so after your grandfather died. But you are loved, and very much.
Lastly, I think you have given up on hope, at least to a certain extent. I know you have made statements that you no longer believe in God, Heaven of Hell. I think this is a reflection of two things. I think it is a side effect of a loss of hope, perhaps brought on by disappointment that God did not let Poppop live longer. I also think that, like many of us, when we are doing things we know to be wrong, we reject the final authority of right and wrong.
In summary, JCMY, I want you to know that I love you. I want you too see the young man I see - the young man buried beneath the exterior that you portray. I want you to see that you are handsome, intelligent, and blessed with numerous skills. I want you to see that you can and do bring so much joy to those around you. I also want you to stop running, to mature and to stop destroying yourself. I want you to stop doing those things that bring harm to you, discord to yourself and your family and limit your potential. I want you to do what you yourself stated a need to do: "...Wake the F*** UP!" I want you to get right with God. Make peace with Him and forgive Him. I want you to make peace with the death of your grandfather. I want you to make peace with what you call your demons, those demons that hold you back from being the person that you were meant to be. Mostly, I want you to succeed in your life, and by succeed, I mean to live a happy productive life, full of happiness and challenge.
I am here for you and will not go away. I will not always give you what you want, but the things that I do, I do out of Love for you and a desire to see the best in your life. Sure, I fail in my goals, but I will keep trying. I will try to be the best dad I can be, no matter what happens in this life. We will argue and fuss, we will disagree with actions you take and actions I take. We will yell at times. We will be at odds with one another, but all that is what life brings. Through it all, I love you and want you to succeed in your life. I will not tell you what dreams to pursue, or how to pursue them, except when I see the dream as self destructive and the way deadly. Otherwise, go after your dreams and be the man I know you can be.
Love,
Dad
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Dreams
Are they curses?
I have dreamt of you twice, that I can recall. They have both bothered me, both in the usual ways, and ways I did not expect.
I am sitting in a chair, at home. You come in and kiss me. I don't know why, but you behaved as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I started to cry and remember thinking "is it really over?" "Are we getting back together?" As I started to cry, tears of pure joy from your kiss, I awoke...
And cried bitterly. I realized upon waking that it was just a dream. The pain was intense and the loneliness crushing.
I am laying in bed, in my usual sleep position. I notice you climbing in bed next to me and you cuddle up to me. I feel the softness of you on my back. I am happy. I missed you and it feels good to have you lay with me. It was a tender moment.
That morning I awoke, again feeling lonely and empty. I miss you dearly. I did not cry this time, because I know we are over. The brief spike in hope that the dream produced has bothered me, but I have had to let it go. I miss being touched, "spooning," and being tender. What amazed me about this dream? It had no sexual content or context. It was the simplest of joys - laying close and comfortable with another human, one you love.
Perhaps next time I can dream of my future and not my past. Maybe I can dream about what happiness my await me as I move forward and stop pining for a past I cannot regain.
When?
When will I stop loving you...
I have dreamt of you twice, that I can recall. They have both bothered me, both in the usual ways, and ways I did not expect.
I am sitting in a chair, at home. You come in and kiss me. I don't know why, but you behaved as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I started to cry and remember thinking "is it really over?" "Are we getting back together?" As I started to cry, tears of pure joy from your kiss, I awoke...
And cried bitterly. I realized upon waking that it was just a dream. The pain was intense and the loneliness crushing.
I am laying in bed, in my usual sleep position. I notice you climbing in bed next to me and you cuddle up to me. I feel the softness of you on my back. I am happy. I missed you and it feels good to have you lay with me. It was a tender moment.
That morning I awoke, again feeling lonely and empty. I miss you dearly. I did not cry this time, because I know we are over. The brief spike in hope that the dream produced has bothered me, but I have had to let it go. I miss being touched, "spooning," and being tender. What amazed me about this dream? It had no sexual content or context. It was the simplest of joys - laying close and comfortable with another human, one you love.
Perhaps next time I can dream of my future and not my past. Maybe I can dream about what happiness my await me as I move forward and stop pining for a past I cannot regain.
When?
When will I stop loving you...
What a price I paid for peace, at least in my own accounting. I sit here, feeling like an abject failure and it is my fault. I surrendered, I gave in, I laid down and willingly died...for what I thought you wanted. And you left.
When we met I was self confident. I knew myself, I made my own way. Sure, I had been hurt by a recent break-up, but I was still confident. I actually liked my self. I don't know when it happened, but I slowly gave up. I don't know if it was your constant insistence that you dad should be consulted about everything; I don't know if it was your growing insistence that YOU were always right; I don't know if it way your constant knit-picking and informing me that there was a better way than mine. But give up I did, and here is the result.
I question everything I think; I automatically defer to you as being more correct. I doubt myself, I hate myself, and I am unable to accept that it should be different.
I can't be mad at you. (Even now I defend you when some would say I should be angry.) I am the one who gave in and gave up. I allowed the change. I.
How will I find the strength to regain what I lost. No, not lost, gave away willingly. How can I go back to who I was without going backwards? How can I move forward through my self imposed/home-grown quicksand of doubt? How..?
Perhaps you are right to leave. Perhaps you are right to find what you would consider a "real man." Perhaps...
When we met I was self confident. I knew myself, I made my own way. Sure, I had been hurt by a recent break-up, but I was still confident. I actually liked my self. I don't know when it happened, but I slowly gave up. I don't know if it was your constant insistence that you dad should be consulted about everything; I don't know if it was your growing insistence that YOU were always right; I don't know if it way your constant knit-picking and informing me that there was a better way than mine. But give up I did, and here is the result.
I question everything I think; I automatically defer to you as being more correct. I doubt myself, I hate myself, and I am unable to accept that it should be different.
I can't be mad at you. (Even now I defend you when some would say I should be angry.) I am the one who gave in and gave up. I allowed the change. I.
How will I find the strength to regain what I lost. No, not lost, gave away willingly. How can I go back to who I was without going backwards? How can I move forward through my self imposed/home-grown quicksand of doubt? How..?
Perhaps you are right to leave. Perhaps you are right to find what you would consider a "real man." Perhaps...
Monday, March 12, 2007
This past weekend was my anniversary weekend and I have been hesitant to write about it. It is strange that all this chaos has been going on for over 2 years, but this year it really bothers me. 3/7 was the anniversary of our meeting - 18 years ago. Hard to imagine, but this woman has spent approximately half of her life with me.
We met about three months before her 19th birthday. I and a friend had just come back from St. Louis where we'd seen REM in concert. It was a snowy weekend in Tulsa and most things were closed. We wanted to rent a video, so we went out to the video store. Not our regular one, no, one we hardly ever went to. J was working that night - called in from another store. She offered us some free videos if we helped straighten them, it was late, we were taking forever, and they wanted to leave. We took her up on the offer. We all then went to Denney's for a late night meal. This last part we rarely tell, because it makes us look bad - she came back to my apartment and the three of us watched movies until dawn. Whether you believe it or not, nothing inappropriate happened. I then stood out in the freezing cold and asked if I could see her again. We were married 1yr and 2days later on 3/9. Short courtship and engagement, but it seemed to do well - until now.
I look back on that time with such fondness. Our meeting. My proposal in the city Rose Gardens. The first time I told her I loved her. Night walks in downtown Tulsa. Planning the wedding. Financing the wedding with a JCPenney credit card and a little cash. Her dad married us. I very much loved her dad and miss him. He was hilarious at the wedding and at the rehearsals. All this makes this weekend special and Hell at the same time.
She left this weekend. Said on Wednesday that she had the opportunity to take a long weekend. Left Wednesday and returned Sunday night. Never told me where she went or with whom. She told the youngest she'd gone to ATL and I guess she figured he'd tell me. I am suspicious, but cannot dwell on it, it hurts too much to think what most people would be thinking.
The weekend is over and she is home now. Somehow, I feel worse. Odd, but I feel much more relaxed when she is gone. Maybe not so odd, given the circumstances. I want her home, but it stresses me. I guess it is that distance between what I want and reality and when she came home that reality became very apparent again.
We met about three months before her 19th birthday. I and a friend had just come back from St. Louis where we'd seen REM in concert. It was a snowy weekend in Tulsa and most things were closed. We wanted to rent a video, so we went out to the video store. Not our regular one, no, one we hardly ever went to. J was working that night - called in from another store. She offered us some free videos if we helped straighten them, it was late, we were taking forever, and they wanted to leave. We took her up on the offer. We all then went to Denney's for a late night meal. This last part we rarely tell, because it makes us look bad - she came back to my apartment and the three of us watched movies until dawn. Whether you believe it or not, nothing inappropriate happened. I then stood out in the freezing cold and asked if I could see her again. We were married 1yr and 2days later on 3/9. Short courtship and engagement, but it seemed to do well - until now.
I look back on that time with such fondness. Our meeting. My proposal in the city Rose Gardens. The first time I told her I loved her. Night walks in downtown Tulsa. Planning the wedding. Financing the wedding with a JCPenney credit card and a little cash. Her dad married us. I very much loved her dad and miss him. He was hilarious at the wedding and at the rehearsals. All this makes this weekend special and Hell at the same time.
She left this weekend. Said on Wednesday that she had the opportunity to take a long weekend. Left Wednesday and returned Sunday night. Never told me where she went or with whom. She told the youngest she'd gone to ATL and I guess she figured he'd tell me. I am suspicious, but cannot dwell on it, it hurts too much to think what most people would be thinking.
The weekend is over and she is home now. Somehow, I feel worse. Odd, but I feel much more relaxed when she is gone. Maybe not so odd, given the circumstances. I want her home, but it stresses me. I guess it is that distance between what I want and reality and when she came home that reality became very apparent again.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Hope folds in on itself...
Like a cheap umbrella in a violent storm, the hope and happiness protecting me from the torrent of misery fold in and collapse. I am soaked by the reality and battered by its intensity. I keep trying new umbrellas, but they each fail in their time - some last longer than others, some not at all. I am left without protection and forced to stand in the downpour, the very picture of abject misery and neglect. I wonder if the rain will ever stop, realizing that it won't. I also wonder when the rain will have come down long enough to form a puddle, then a pool, and eventually a flood; a flood to wipe clean everything in its path and drown those unfit to survive. I believe I am one of those and am just waiting my turn.
I can understand...
I was thinking about death. I can understand why people would want to end their lives. I can see and feel the allure of the peace of death. I can appreciate the absolute freedom gained from knowing you are going to die - and soon. Paradoxically, it makes you invulnerable. Nothing can touch you - not stress, bills, IRS, failed relationships, work, regrets, failures in general, nothing. I can touch that freedom in my imagination, and that is where it will stay. I also happen to believe that death would soon become unpeaceful and would last forever. Whatever pain is felt now, here, in this temporal existence, is nothing compared to Hell. I know that the pain here is susceptible to influence as well. The smile of a child can dispel the demons of the IRS, at least for a time. The cry of a child's skinned knee can become of paramount importance, minimizing all other concerns, at least for a time.
Hope, happiness, death and being morose. They all surround me. The first two seem so fleeting, the next, unimaginable and the last an almost constant state. Why the flip? Why the change, when I'd been doing well? Despair, I think. It seems that no matter how hard I work, the further behind I get. I know it is a cliche, but it is painfully true. I cannot seem to escape the vicious cycles of my life. The one option that haunts me is not really an option, and I certainly won't be pursuing it. In fits of absurdity, I have a fantasy of losing everything material I have in some storm or such. What a pathetic fantasy and how much of a coward must I be to think like this.
I understand why she left me. She wanted to be free. She never wanted kids. She was tired of the responsibility of marriage, of my life (but remained committed to her kids). I too long for that freedom, I just don't know how to obtain it without betraying everything and everyone. I have fantasies of disappearing and starting over. Of going completely on a cash economy. I have even thought of trying to buy a new identity. All this is completely unworkable for someone like me. I have no marketable skills - those skills I do have require extensive background checking and licensing. I don't think I would survive. If I ever do disappear, look for foul play, as I am too much of a lazy bastard to do that type of thing. Besides, I would never voluntarily leave my kids and never have contact with them again - I couldn't stomach that much heartache and pain.
Why am I writing this? To exorcise the morose feelings that I have succumbed to in the last 18 hours. It helps to write it out and view how really silly your thinking can become when it is dragged down into a pit of self pity and despair. So I cast away these feelings and thoughts and look toward a brighter tomorrow - even if I cannot see it yet, it will come. Dawn always comes.
PS I can be so very histrionic when I write. Melodramatic. In all honesty, I think I am a melodramatic sort at times, even maudlin. I am hoping to lessen those times, but will my attempts at writing reflect that change? Only time will tell, like so many other things.
Like a cheap umbrella in a violent storm, the hope and happiness protecting me from the torrent of misery fold in and collapse. I am soaked by the reality and battered by its intensity. I keep trying new umbrellas, but they each fail in their time - some last longer than others, some not at all. I am left without protection and forced to stand in the downpour, the very picture of abject misery and neglect. I wonder if the rain will ever stop, realizing that it won't. I also wonder when the rain will have come down long enough to form a puddle, then a pool, and eventually a flood; a flood to wipe clean everything in its path and drown those unfit to survive. I believe I am one of those and am just waiting my turn.
I can understand...
I was thinking about death. I can understand why people would want to end their lives. I can see and feel the allure of the peace of death. I can appreciate the absolute freedom gained from knowing you are going to die - and soon. Paradoxically, it makes you invulnerable. Nothing can touch you - not stress, bills, IRS, failed relationships, work, regrets, failures in general, nothing. I can touch that freedom in my imagination, and that is where it will stay. I also happen to believe that death would soon become unpeaceful and would last forever. Whatever pain is felt now, here, in this temporal existence, is nothing compared to Hell. I know that the pain here is susceptible to influence as well. The smile of a child can dispel the demons of the IRS, at least for a time. The cry of a child's skinned knee can become of paramount importance, minimizing all other concerns, at least for a time.
Hope, happiness, death and being morose. They all surround me. The first two seem so fleeting, the next, unimaginable and the last an almost constant state. Why the flip? Why the change, when I'd been doing well? Despair, I think. It seems that no matter how hard I work, the further behind I get. I know it is a cliche, but it is painfully true. I cannot seem to escape the vicious cycles of my life. The one option that haunts me is not really an option, and I certainly won't be pursuing it. In fits of absurdity, I have a fantasy of losing everything material I have in some storm or such. What a pathetic fantasy and how much of a coward must I be to think like this.
I understand why she left me. She wanted to be free. She never wanted kids. She was tired of the responsibility of marriage, of my life (but remained committed to her kids). I too long for that freedom, I just don't know how to obtain it without betraying everything and everyone. I have fantasies of disappearing and starting over. Of going completely on a cash economy. I have even thought of trying to buy a new identity. All this is completely unworkable for someone like me. I have no marketable skills - those skills I do have require extensive background checking and licensing. I don't think I would survive. If I ever do disappear, look for foul play, as I am too much of a lazy bastard to do that type of thing. Besides, I would never voluntarily leave my kids and never have contact with them again - I couldn't stomach that much heartache and pain.
Why am I writing this? To exorcise the morose feelings that I have succumbed to in the last 18 hours. It helps to write it out and view how really silly your thinking can become when it is dragged down into a pit of self pity and despair. So I cast away these feelings and thoughts and look toward a brighter tomorrow - even if I cannot see it yet, it will come. Dawn always comes.
PS I can be so very histrionic when I write. Melodramatic. In all honesty, I think I am a melodramatic sort at times, even maudlin. I am hoping to lessen those times, but will my attempts at writing reflect that change? Only time will tell, like so many other things.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Good-bye Shadow Cat
Tonight the weather mimics my mood. It is windy, raining, with a chance of tornado. I feel uneasy. Not about the weather, but about tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to, with much regret/sorrow/dread take my cat of 21 years to the vet to be put to sleep. She has stopped eating and does not seem to be able to hold anything down. She appears in pain when walking, and her behavior has changed. She loses us and seems lost. She has stopped using the litter box and this creates a number of problems. After long discussions, with and without the kids, we reached the decision that it would be best for her to be put to sleep. It was hard watching my youngest say good-bye tonight. He has known her his whole life. I do not look forward to the task and approach it with conflicted thought and emotion. I miss her already, but I don't like to see her suffer.
I don't care if I am anthropomorphizing, I love this cat. Save for my mom and sisters, I have know and maintained a relationship with this cat longer than with any other creature. She has provided comfort, has listened and has not criticized. She has shared her home with me and put up with the dogs in my life.
Funny, I didn't start out as a cat person. I called her cat-dog (long before the cartoon) and joked that I had raised her as a dog. She would "bark" out the window at birds. She was given to me after being found blind on the roadside - a newborn kitten. Her finder nurtured her until she was a few weeks old and asked if I would accept her. She has moved with me from Oklahoma to Minnesota and down to Georgia. She has "trained" at least 3 dogs and never took any grief from them. They knew she had pet seniority and seemed to understand the need to back off with just a glance from her. I believe we have given her a good home and a happy life and her presence here will be felt and missed.
I don't care if I am anthropomorphizing, I love this cat. Save for my mom and sisters, I have know and maintained a relationship with this cat longer than with any other creature. She has provided comfort, has listened and has not criticized. She has shared her home with me and put up with the dogs in my life.
Funny, I didn't start out as a cat person. I called her cat-dog (long before the cartoon) and joked that I had raised her as a dog. She would "bark" out the window at birds. She was given to me after being found blind on the roadside - a newborn kitten. Her finder nurtured her until she was a few weeks old and asked if I would accept her. She has moved with me from Oklahoma to Minnesota and down to Georgia. She has "trained" at least 3 dogs and never took any grief from them. They knew she had pet seniority and seemed to understand the need to back off with just a glance from her. I believe we have given her a good home and a happy life and her presence here will be felt and missed.
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