Hello there!
I guess before I look back on the year 2023, I will talk about now and what I hope for the future. 2023 has been a year of many of the same struggles for me, some internal, some external, some eternal. Some of these, the people around me, have at least a passing knowledge of. There are also several that only I know about, for I have never told anyone, save for you, dear reader, between the lines. It's not complicated, but it is. I'm not complicated, but I am. See the perfect sense I make? Yes, yes, it's awesome, isn't it? Well, again, it is, but it isn't. There is so much I wish I could share with the world. Sadly, it is because I know this world all too well. And that's why I hold back. Do you ever feel like a star that could shine all the more brightly if only it were in another sky, or the lowly plant that could flower, bloom, and blossom if only it were in another garden? Or maybe you are a human being that could just do so much better with some new scenery, maybe in another part of the world. Maybe in another universe? I guess it's actually happening somewhere where all those quantum particles are in a different place, maybe moving at a different speed, maybe in a better direction. If all things are indeed possible in places where the dice fell differently, it seems that maybe I have found myself in the wrong one. And please permit me to explore the many meanings of what I just said. What does it mean to find yourself? I know. It's like going a few towns away and running into someone you know... Or thought you knew. It's like those fun house mirrors, except that it's not the image in the glass that is wrong. It was the image in the mind. And it's really like that tired analogy of a puzzle that has a definite picture, but not the one on the outside of the box it came in. Only when said puzzle started coming together did all of the pieces make sense. Have you ever known something subconsciously, but not on the surface level? Man, is it one hell of a whammy when it finally hits you. You know? Like turning that corner and running into a person you thought you knew, and it was you? I guess I am not making sense to anybody who have not found themselves in that situation. If so, just take my word for it: It's a heavy, heavy experience. It didn't happen this year. It didn't happen the year before. It was almost five years ago, now. Now, as super self-conscious as I am, it has always felt to me like I was walking with a neon sandwich board sign. But it is apparently not. But there are differences. Those who never knew me could hardly compare my current self to this person from 2019. So maybe it is only blazingly obvious to me because I finally happen to know this person that I apparently am. So, why am I bringing this up now? Well, firstly, I'm not exactly broaching anything new because it has been here in these words all along, if only between the lines. Why? Because it is nothing I quite feel able to spell directly out, but if you know, well, you know. Secondly, I am sorta bringing this up now because I may soon be faced with a choice either to keep going as I have and suffer a complete breakdown or just flat out come out and say it, the very thing that might well change my world. For the better? For the worse? Well, if I had known it to be the former, I would have said so five years ago. Instead, this has been an internal struggle, the likes of which I have never seen before. When I realized it was both liberating and confining. A prison in the shape of a human being, with the only difference being that I now know why. Still... I have made a few endeavors to make those figurative walls maybe a bit thinner, a little less opaque. I see the difference quite clear when I stand before the mirror. And I don't know if I should feel downhearted or grateful that I seem to be the only one who can truly see me. In the meantime, I have other problems. These cut hours and this whole week off work have me seriously worried about my finances. This day in and day out struggle, trying to maintain a status quo that I have never exactly been happy with? Well, it's bringing me down. So what do I want? That is the question, isn't it? Actually, it is more the question to ask just how to go about it. And that is yet another struggle that has carried over and over from years past. Then we have this struggle with grief that I fear will never end. I have found myself in situations where it has hit me so suddenly, so sharply that I have spontaneously broke down in tears and had to find a corner where nobody could see me crying because you know we super macho hombres are not supposed to cry. God damn it. If she were still here, I think she would have been the first one I would have told about the things I rambled about above. See, it has never been about safe spaces. She was simply my safe person, somebody I could tell everything. And I did, almost. Maybe if I had known that time was ticking down, I would have. But you see, back then, I was still doubting myself at times. I rarely do these days. And now? I really have no safe person anymore. Maybe it was our similar internal wiring that made me feel safe talking to her about many of my internal struggles. We had a few demons we fought in common. And there were things only she would have understood. It just felt to me that we were similar operating systems installed on different computers. That's all really. The rest I can't exactly put into words except to say that I felt safe from judgment because she understood. It is a hell of a struggle having a different nervous system than most people on this earth. And even if I didn't tell her absolutely everything, there are still many things I never said to anyone else. So you see, in addition to being sad about losing her far too soon, in addition to the heartbreak of knowing she had plans for the future and dreams to follow, that she did not deserve to die, I have this selfish reason that I needed my guardian, my warrior, my safe person who believed in me more than anyone else in my life ever did. I do not wish to downplay the loss of my mother a mere two months after I lost my baby sister. I would never want to make her loss seem minor because it wasn't. Not at all. And it hit me long before I could even sort out my feelings from the first loss. Truth is, I still have not sorted them out. My mother was a good person, and of course, I love her. She always meant well. But there were so many things I could never truly talk to my mother about. With Momma, we all saw it coming. She had fallen ill the previous July, and we all saw she was not coming back from it. We saw it coming, but of course, it hurt like hell. But with my baby sister? Nobody saw it coming. One evening, I was having a relatively normal text conversation with her, and the next evening was the absolute worst of my life. I held her hand. I squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. I thought she was going to wake up. "She knows I'm here." I thought. Now, well, I don't know. Such is the recurring hell in my mind. And it seems I have gotten off topic, so let me summarize. I am starting 2024 with many of the same struggles from 2023 and before. My finances are a struggle. My grief is still a struggle. My anxiety and depression are still a struggle, and I have that one more struggle I have not exactly said, yet I have in little ways here and there, in my words, in my presentation, in many bits and pieces of subtlety in these pages. Then there is the simple struggle of this status quo. My life seems to be like a video loop that plays over and over. I get up and do the same things every day. And it's not just the work that seems repetitive. Even the things I used to do for fun seem tired and well trodden. I think that beyond being world weary and tired of life, that I am just plain bored with life too. I feel that I have nothing to look forward to but old age and death. And worse? The death of a person I know I am not. The eulogy would be all wrong, starting from the first word. And that's just not cool. I seem to have withdrawn into myself and let my body navigate on autopilot. I have been having heavy thoughts, some of which I dare not give voice or text to. I am tired of this play and I'm tired of this role. It is just not me and it never was. And it may so happen in 2024 that I may have no choice but to stand upon the rooftops and shout it out loud. It's like this: If I am to go down in madness, I don't want it to be over breaking down from staying a course that I can no longer stand. If I'm going down, then it is time to ditch the role and appear onstage as myself. Is that so wrong? Only to the people who would accuse me of "pretending". If there is anything on social media that pisses me off more than these sarcastic memes that blatently trivilize people like me, then I don't know what it is. In the words of Neil Diamond, I am I said, to no one there. And who are they to tell me just who or what I am? Are they in this mind? Do they feel with this heart? No. Nor would I dare tell them who they are. And if I am to be damned, let it not be as a stranger to myself. Much love, my friends. Much love. Now... Let me talk a little about last year.
It looks like I have made it through another year. Hooray? Yes, yes, hooray for me. Ah, 2023. A definite step up from 2022, that's for sure. Of course, you can't take away from me what the previous year already took. So, what all happened in 2023? My youngest son graduated from high school, turned 20, and found out he was diabetic. We finally had a proper service for my mother, and she's now at Cypress Creek Cemetery. I have only been there twice. Momma's not there any more than Marsha's at Piney Grove. I may not have any definite beliefs about the afterlife, but I know all too well what the light leaving a loved one's eyes is like, there one minute, gone the next. The distraction of the noisy construction crew at Piney Grove not withstanding, I did not feel my baby sister's presence there. But, in the middle of Tallahassee traffic, I swear she was in the passenger seat beside me, her belongings in the back. It was a strange feeling of calmness in a situation that would have normally had my anxiety reeling. She was there that day, but never once have I sensed her in that cemetery. Marsha's not at Piney Grove, and Momma's not at Cypress Creek. I don't know where they are, but I most certainly know where they're not. They have both visited me in my dreams at time. Momma insisting that I take the rest of her food because she was afraid of me starving, overreacting as usual. Marsha and I on the sofa watching our favorite TV shows. Whether I was subconsciously Jedi Mind Tricking myself, I can't say, but those were some very real dreams. At least they seemed that way. I guess I should try not to think so much about this, so maybe I'll talk about other things that happened in 2023. I finally quit the vapes last February. The price jumping up 12 dollars more for a one week supply was all the motivation I needed. Those scary coughing sessions where I felt I was drowning on dry land are a rarity now and I am no doubt saving a lot of money, though these cut hours and higher prices on everything else have more than offset that. At least I'm not paying someone to slowly kill me anymore. I got a nasty case of food poisoning last October, exasperated by my stupidly taking sodium based antacids that sent my blood pressure skyrocketing. There was a while I quite literally thought I was going to die. I mean, seriously. I kept expecting to hear certain people calling for me to cross that line. But even in my delirious state, that never happened. I know I sound like a drama queen here, but I promise you that was how I felt. I missed two straight days of work, and you know I've got to be about dead to do that. I'm just cutting it way too close on these bills. But, I remember I just didn't care at that moment. I could barely stay on my feet. But it would seem I'm still here nearly 3 months later. It has really been a continuation of the same old struggles, fighting the same demons, missing the same loved ones. It's been another battle in the same old war. I guess if 2024 is going to have a theme, it's gonna be I'm still here. Making it through January is going to be tough. The 23rd will make two years without my baby sister. January sucks. It's cold gloomy and bitter, and it makes me feel cold, gloomy, and bitter. The 23rd was bullshit. It will always be bullshit. This cold ass month can thaw in the fires of Hell. But otherwise, how are you? Okay, I am going to do my best to remain as much on the bright side as I can in this dark time of the year, but I also ask your forgiveness for the times I know I'll slip up. They say time heals all wounds, but I seem to be still waiting. Yeah, I know it takes effort on my part, but there are some things I am simply not ready to let go of. It is hard to explain that even my bitterness comes from a place of love. Love with nowhere to go is all grief really is. I believe in the spirit of togetherness and holidays and yadda yadda Yoda. More importantly, I wish everyone happiness this season, and I genuinely mean it with all of my heart, all of my love. I'm sorry if I seem like Scrooge, and I don't mean to be. Let's just say I am dealing with some ghosts of Christmas past. I've basically got about a month and a bit, that 'ol double whammy of the holidays and January to get through. I guess if there is an equivalent time to now, it would be September, birthdays, and whatnot.. But of course, January is a memory with pictures I wish I could delete from my mind. But my mind is not exactly a hard drive, and let's just say the operating system ain't exactly Windows. It takes so much more than time. It takes effort, and usually, my effort (sorta) works. Except for in two apparent seasons. And it looks like I'm going to have a whole week off work, so plenty of time (aside from worrying about bills) to think about it. I never want to forget you. Just as I cherish you, I want to cherish every memory. I only wish to forget that very last one. Am I a drama queen? Am I really? Oh no. We macho hombres can't be caught having emotions, can we? We aren't supposed to need a bit of tenderness, arms to hold us, and a shoulder to cry on, are we? Oh no, we're not even supposed to cry at all. It's just the mold and the role, the goddamn role. And I hate it! Why? because it's not me, and it never was! And I am not even sorry I don't fit it. This is me. This is the brain that got installed in my head. I didn't choose it, but I am not going to deny the truth. If that makes me a drama queen, then so be it. The title in itself implies I have a kingdom of some sorts, and it implies one more thing: ladies and gentlemen. Maybe I sound silly. But there is a key difference here. This is not acting. These are my true feelings, and the only question is whether to express them or not. And I think it is better that I get them out somewhere, even if only in a place where nobody I actually know will ever read them. I have a feeling that had I not started talking about them at least somewhere, I would have long ago gone down in madness. Now, I am only slowly going down in madness instead. Maybe the end result will be the same. I can't really say. This extended week off seems to be detrimental to more than just my finances. This isolation, along with these cold gloomy days, has been one hell of a downer, mentally. I would imagine that a bit of warmth and sunshine would go a long way to bringing me back out of this abyss, but I might as well be wishing for the moon and stars. This weather is not going to change just to cheer me up. And of course, they say that we are all responsible for our own happiness. Just who are they? And just what kind of a life and a future do they have? I am sure that there are different situations that will make your task of managing your own mental health easier or harder. Who are they? I mean, really. Are we comparing apples to oranges here? I have also heard it said that it is so much more comfortable to cry in a mansion with a cute maid handing you your tissues, than in a broken down house that is slowly falling apart, or worse, out on the street. yes, yes, we are all responsible for a lot of things, aren't we? Sometimes, we succeed. Sometimes, we fail. Sometimes, it's our own damned fault. Sometimes, we did the best we could, and it just wasn't enough. It is hard to put a blanket expectation on human beings when we don't even know what it's like. Am I throwing out excuses for myself? Maybe I am. But I honestly don't know what to do. If there were a magic button I could press to change everything, I'd be pressing the absolute hell out of it. But, there is no magic solution. If only I could start completely over with the knowledge that I have now. I think I would do awesomely. Just give me back my life and my future. Give me something to look forward to, to work towards. Let me keep the wisdom and the lesson, but not the pain, not the regret. Give me the chance to go back knowing what I know now. And if I screw things up the second time around, it will be all my own fault for having known better. I would fully deserve this gloomy coldness. But to have thrown all of this at me when I didn't know any better, to give me painful lessons that I will never get a chance to apply what I learned the hard way. Well, that's why real life is bullshit. Who needs it anyway? If I could live in a fantasy, I would. Which reminds me. Do you want to know the most ironic irony? Everyday people in my real life will never understand. These are the people who live in my part of the world and speak the same language that I do. Yet they won't understand me. Then, I found myself bored and alone, aimlessly surfing the internet, and I found something. It was a story written by somebody a long way from here, ditto for the actors. They spoke another language, and I had to read the subtitles. But, do you know what? They get it. They may not know me or speak the same language as I do, but they get it! They... Get... me. I sat here speechless and moved in a way that words could never express. Somebody understands what these feelings are like. And even if I find myself no less alone than I was before, the thought that somebody out there would understand gives me just a bit of hope. The small screen suddenly became a mirror. I swear I saw myself. Never before has a work of art spoken to me like this. Somebody gets it. Somebody understands. And maybe, just maybe, I could find that understanding a little bit closer to home. I wasted a good deal of my life trying to be what people expected me to be, and what exactly did it get me? It got me right here. This is where conforming to a role left me. And my words, These weird ramblings? This is how trying to fit a mold has gotten me. And now that I am trying to be a bit more of my real self? Why it's driving me crazy too, because even so, I've got to stay in bounds or everything else in my life may go to shit. Because people just wouldn't understand. How do I know? Because I see it all the time. Maybe not (yet) directed at me, but they're talking about me when that talk about others like me, so it might as well be. The biggest bit of bullshit is when they call it "pretending" because that's where they have it backwards. Yes, I have done lots of pretending in my life. Every time when I go out in the world, I have to pretend to be someone I never was. The people they accuse of pretending? They were the ones brave enough to finally stop pretending. How ironic to call it pretending when they're finally not. Kudos to those brave souls. I wish i could be one of them. Maybe I will make that happen someday? You hear it said all the time around the turn of the year, New Year, new me. But it's the same old me, albeit somebody you have never met before.
Man, this cold gloominess has really got me down. I mean, it is oh so typical for early December and all of January, and it oh so fits my feelings. When I was a little kid, I was not so different from other kids. I looked forward to Christmas morning, as did my sisters. Nowadays, I want to hide away until it's all over. There are several things that feed my anxiety these days. The first is this week off from work I got from things being so slow. I think I will be okay if I am careful, but as is my nature, I still worry. My first couple of days off, the weather was nice. The days were bright, and the sun shown down unusually strong for this time of year. I opened the doors and let the spring-like air into the house. I managed to get all of my clothes washed and dried out on the line. I didn't make my usual Friday grocery trip. I just didn't really feel like going anywhere. The next days, in contrast, were overcast and gloomy, more in line with this time of year, more in line with this feeling in my heart. My financial and job situation has me feeling down. The holidays have me feeling down. I miss my mother. I miss my baby sister. I feel old and tired and inadequate. My cycle of lonely / fine with being alone seems to have fallen on the former. Yes, I am pretty damned lonely. With nothing better to do on this rainy day (At least nothing I can motivate myself to face) I have spent my time on my computer, Going to Doomworld to download game levels, killing time on YouTube, going on Twitter to look at pictures of beauty that will never be within my reach. Maybe there is something to that fable about the devil in disguise as an apparition showing endless images of fantasy to distract the young prince from actually doing anything princely. Then he looks around, realizing he's gotten old and useless. It's not a very good image, not to a prince, nor to a princess. I well understand that I am not the center of this universe, and nobody is under any obligation to care about me. I understand that. Believe me, I do. So, I am not some angsty teenager (anymore) lamenting that nobody cares in some ploy for sympathy. Nobody has to care. They all have their own lives and their own troubles. I understand that. I just wish there were another human being that I could be close to, who would want to be close to me, somebody to care when they never had to care. I honestly would sell my soul to any devil or demon who would offer just that. Of course, one has to have a soul worth taking, and it sure seems the devil's making no deals. I would like to think that I am indeed worthy. I am not a bad person. I have my flaws, and man, have I screwed up in my younger days, but I do have empathy, I do have a heart. I know this because it's hurting pretty damned deeply right now. I spent years of self reflection after my ex left me. I had to know, had to understand what I had done to have deserved such treatment. I just couldn't understand. It happened so fast, and I never saw it coming. It's been 15 years, 15 years, and there is still so much I do not understand. Was I perfect? Of course not. My long conclusion is that I was good to her. I spent a long time away, working. I really had no choice in that matter. I was the sole breadwinner for a family of five. I mean, that was my role, right? Secondly, I had known my ex long before we ever got married, and it should have been obvious that a spouse and a family was not for her. Truly, it is nice to dream about getting married and having children. One can conjure some pretty pictures in their heads. Babies are a bit of work, but they're not really that hard to take care of. Feed them, burp them, hold them, rock them to sleep, and put them in their crib. Yes, it's scary when they get sick, and sometimes it takes forever to get them settled so you can sleep. But still. The real thing is that babies don't stay babies for very long. They start crawling, walking, and running. One has to run a bit to keep up with them. I know. It was certainly true with my three. A parent can't exactly go off and do their own thing when watching them. I guess you could say I went to work, but I took that job because I needed to provide for my family. It was my role. The thing about becoming a parent is that there is going to be a long time where your life will not be your own. You're going to be day after day after day consumed by the responsibilities to your children. In a fantasy, it all goes away after you wake up, and you can go on about your life however you want to. In reality, you've got to take the good days with the bad. Kids can be exhausting. And you can't hold them to the same standards as you would an adult. Kids are just kids, sometimes. You've got to pick your battles, where to be lenient, and where to be strict and unyielding. And you've got to let them have a childhood. It can be a lot of stress, and I just couldn't be both at work and at home at the same time. I really had no choice. It broke my heart every time I had to go. I guess I should have known that everything was falling apart towards the end. I found myself spending the weekdays working at my job and the weekends cleaning the house and fixing the meals. Of course, what I didn't know back then was that she was farming out the kids to relatives and running around as if she were single. And I never even suspected. It was December 31st, 2008, 15 years ago today, when I was discarded like an empty Pepsi can in the Junior Foodmart parking lot, abandoned when I went into the store. Do you know? It wasn't just the leaving, but just how callously and unexpectedly it was done. And that was when the self reflection started. What had I done to have been treated in such a manner? And after all these years, of asking myself what I did wrong, after raising my three boys alone from the ages of 5, 7, and 9 to the ages of 20, 22, and 24, I have come to the conclusion that no, I am not a bad person, and even if I were, that was not the reason she did this to me. The burden of parenthood was too much for her. The fact that I couldn't provide 24-hour companionship was too much for her. far easier, it is for a scumbag without a job (but that is another story). I am certainly no angel, but I did not deserve to have been treated so badly. Maybe it was punishment for my ignoring the warning signs in the first place. See, loneliness makes one downplay those red flags. She had appeared out of nowhere, offered me what I thought was love, gave me attention, wanted to play the role of a loving wife, wanted to play the fantasy of a big family with all smiles and no troubles ever. And I let my loneliness make my decisions for me. Monsters into angels, as Jewel Kilcher sings. It's ironic how I relate to so many breakup songs sung by women. If only you knew. But no, I am not a bad person. I may be a mess. I may be limited by my anxiety. And I am definitely over the freaking hill. But I have a heart, and it's longing for something I fear I will never have. I once thought I had it, but that was an illusion. Leave it to Jewel's lyrics how a heart starved for love can indeed hallucinate. And it seems I will spend the rest of my life (however long) asking myself where to go from here, yet never moving at all. Sometimes, I feel that life and so many things in life is a trap, quicksand that seems like solid ground from the outside. So many heavenly gates that lead straight to hell, and you don't know, can never realize you're in hell until those gates slam hard behind you. Not all hells are the same. It is only the feeling that lets you know where you are. A Venus Flytrap and a spider's web are two different things. But both are hell for the fly. Both are fatal. Does it really matter how one dies as much as it mattered how they lived? Gone is gone, and an eternity minus a few years is still an eternity, right? Heavy thoughts, man, heavy thoughts. Should I be concerned that I am no longer afraid that I no longer seem to give a shit? Just don't make it prolonged, painful, or scary, and it probably won't worry me at all. It's the balance of being afraid to live against the fear of dying. Ever stand on the middle of a seesaw? Have you ever been surfing? Heck, if I had a bucket list, I might add going all cowabunga on the waves. But the only list I have is my fucket list, and it's a pretty damned long list at that. It would seem to me that my words have gotten a bit dark, rolling in like those storm clouds in the gulf. The only real solution is to just clean cup and move it on down the line. A heavy heart can never truly sing. I need the spring, the sun, and its warmth. Never before has it seemed so far away. The fact that one could feel so cold yet still be among the living is kinda confusing. Dear Universe, my only friend, Dearest Obliva, Beautiful Empress Of The Void, How I long for the safety of your arms. I know you could take away the pain. I know you could dry my tears in a way that it will seem they never have existed, fading away as I will, lost to the event horizon of your arms. Let me dwell with you in a place where pain has no power, where time has no meaning, where regrets return to dust, drifting in space for all time where they can never harm anyone. To believe in nothing at all is to still believe in you, and I do. Forever and ever amen. My love is yours, Oblivia, and I'm waiting here for you to claim me. The realization that nothing is forever comforts me, yet breaks my
heart. It comforts me because I know Oblivia will gather me into her
arms someday. It breaks my heart because Marsha should still be alive
and well, but she's gone. The pain of her loss adds to my weariness, and
I am tired, friends, I am so tired. Worlds spin and worlds end and not
even time goes on and on. Is there really any right or wrong in being
weary of existing between the bookends of time, as half of a matching
set that has lost its meaning by no longer being part of the whole? How
could it not be understandable to be simply tired of it all? They'll
tell you to toughen up and call you a cupcake. As if cupcakes were a bad
thing or something. I like frosted mint icing on mine thank ya very
much. Nobody was waiting on the pity train you keep saying derailed.
They were waiting on a little understanding. Strange, isn't it, that it
might be different in someone else's mind, that people can simplify and
summarize another human being when you've never felt with their heart.
Maybe it is not so bad as that. This is just an observation for me to
add to all those said before. The difference? That I can freely admit
that I do not know and clearly state that I am willing to listen and
learn and maybe empathize. Ignorance may be bliss, but it is no license
to trivialize another human being. There is a quiet dignity to the void,
a peaceful tranquility I once knew and will know again. I know who and
what I am.
There is only one alternative to this focus on mortality: New Year, and the same me you have never met before. Allow me to introduce myself. Hey it's me, first and third of three, depending on how you look at it. And as I go merrily down this stream of life, I have finally made a decision. This decision is that if this stream ever becomes a waterfall... If this raft becomes a barrel... If it ever becomes obviously inevitable that I'm about to be going over the edge, Then I am going to do so as myself. I will not be called crazy for breaking down from trying to fit this damnable role. No, I'll be called crazy for prancing my way over the edge.... As myself. Once again, allow me to introduce myself. They think they know me, But they don't. Only you, dearest reader, dearest universe, dearest Romans, robots, and strangers might have a clue. They never could. It is not their fault, really. It's the world, and especially this part of the world that makes it so difficult to truly express my feelings. It is just the way of society, the role, and the mold, and the figurative chains that bind us to what and who we are expected to be. And with that said, I wish you, my dear friends, Romans, robots and strangers all the best for 2024. I wish you all the best and I send you all of my love, all of my love. May I be here joyously one year from now. May we all be joyously here one year from now. May all hearts find a home, may all souls find belonging and peace. Let there be light and love, and may we all be ourselves in the light of the truth of meaning.
May we all be free.
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