I've been reading a lot of things about me lately. They are mostly snippets of thought. Not entirely the truth but also not entirely a lie. I have thought long and hard about how to address them or whether I should bother to address them at all. I could defend myself but the effort I would expend in doing so would do nothing to preserve what I'm really trying achieve, and in fact, would only make matters worse.
There are things I've written that could be looked upon as an attack to somebody's character and I can see that. That, however, could not be further from the truth. I write not to attack, but to heal. This is one of many tools I rely upon to kind of reset my head, clear out the cobwebs and try to move forward. I am hurting everyday and need these things if I am ever to do just that. I have thought long and hard about what I should say or if I should say anything at all and have finally come up with what I believe to be the right answer.
I am sorry.
I am sorry for making you believe that I didn't care about you. For ignoring your cries for help when you were feeling unhappy and unwanted for so long that the damage could not be reversed. For making you feel trapped. For not giving you the support you demanded and needed so badly. For not appreciating you. For ignoring you.
I am sorry I could not be the husband you desired to be at your side. For not being your best friend. For assuming everything was okay when it wasn't. For not working harder. For being too demanding. For being unable to hear you. For making you leave. For being selfish. For not treating you like the princess you are. For making you stay for so many years longer than you should have.
I will offer you no excuses for my short sided view of our world together. You made me a better person and without you I am incomplete.
I hope this letter finds you. I hope you understand.
My love will always be with you.
Set a drift, my raft creaking at every wave and swell the ocean provided. Many years ago my journey started. With the clothes on my back and a small provision of water my raft was cut loose of its moorings and forced out to sea. For years I have endured the storm that pounded at my soul. Each day I faced the ocean swells large enough to sink a normal vessel, but somehow I have managed to survive. There was a time I had given up. I jumped from my raft into the ocean only to find the ocean did not want me. It had summoned the currents from deep below, gathered me into a swell that rose high above the ocean and, while at the crest, had thrown me from the water back onto my tiny raft.
I have been adrift for longer than I can remember. My rage and anger summoned the storms made more intense by my frustration. But I have learned. I have learned to calm my soul and curb the anger that haunts me, and the ocean has responded in kind. The storms have receded, the swells are not so mighty and I have learned to accept what this ocean has to offer me and it has provided. I am, however, still adrift. Now, caught in a current from origins unknown I have motion. I move past the small islands that in their sanctuary would leave me there alone until the end of my days. Past ships cracked open on the jagged rocks the ocean hides just below the surface leaving no survivors, only warning. My raft instinctively navigates away from these hazards and invitations. As if it knows where I'm going or certainly where I should be and should not be.
I search each day for signs of life. A coast, a lighthouse, a wood stove burning, a welcome. There must be someplace out there where I belong. Someone who will love me, accepting my faults while seeing the genuine intention of good that still lives deep within me. I have learned so much but I will no longer waste the knowledge with those who will not know me. My frustration wanes, my storms are ending and I have a sturdy raft. Just a little longer and I shall know land again.
I just finished watching "The Quiet Man" with John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. It's a great old movie and if you haven't seen it I recommend you do. The funny thing about the movie is how I am loosely relating the important bits to my Ex-Life. Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O'Hara) is obsessed with obtaining her dowry which creates tension ( and ultimately leads to an epic fist fight) for Sean Thornton (John Wayne) who doesn't see the importance of it at all. He believes it's enough to love her and he will provide whatever she wants/needs on his own. I'm not saying my Ex-Life was the same as this, but it was pretty similar. The only real exception is that I've never been in a fist fight with anyone over it.
What bothers me the most about her attitude in this movie is how she forced him to lower his standards and enter into a conflict to get back into her good graces. Expecially since she had obtained the best qualities of the man already. I know there is some discussion in the movie about traditions and whatnot, perhaps it was a message just for the times (1953), but still.
Okay, back to the present.
I spent most of Thursday, Friday, and Saturday looking at pictures and playing word associations. It turns out that zapping your brain tends to scramble and cause a lot of memory issues, especially if you had some to begin with. Only one more to go, then a 6 month brake. Looking forward to that.
Damned therapist. Always prodding and probing into places where they don't belong, where I don't want to be, where nobody should be.
Fridays session might have been an exception though. We discussed 'starting over' and why I'm having so much trouble jump starting my life again. The simple explanation would be to say that my metaphoric battery is dead. There have been six major restarts in my life and each time I've managed to start over. The big hitch here is that none of them were of my choosing. Each time somebody else initiated the 'reboot' completely out of my control and each time I pulled the pieces that were left back together and started out a new. Each time except the last. Though the earlier 'reboots' were at a younger age where I was left with nothing over and over again, they all added up, draining my ever depleting battery until finally it lost it's charge, leaving me stuck in the mud. That's the simple answer.
I am told, that I simply do not have the energy to start 'collecting' things again. What's the point? They will simply be lost again later. I will not trust anyone anymore either, as they will only betray me. While there are many people out there who are trust worthy, whom I would never have to watch my back with or wonder what secrets they're keeping on their cell phones, it is simply too much of an effort to go find them.
While this last 'reboot' was extremely complicated and at least one person would argue that the whole thing is my fault, it was also the most destructive. Not of 'stuff' or acquired wealth, those things can easily be replaced, but of identity and self worth. The mental problems I had going into it wiped away my former self leaving a blank canvas that could have been filled with a vibrant life seeking self portrait. Instead, it was immediately filled with the small colors of negativity, painted there by the events of the time. I just needed a little more time.
Those negative memories I have of the events that unfolded may be true from my singular view point but they are still mine. Those are the pieces I hold onto. I am still trying to put them together in a way that will help me recharge that battery that will start my life again. The only problem is those pieces are sharp and don't fit back together correctly and in that mess of broken pieces is me. Unworthy, unidentifiable me.
I'm standing by the side of the road and I'm trying to remember how to start. What to do, where to go, how to act, it's all up in the air. I have stopped living my life but not because I wanted to. A more truthful statement would be to say the option to live a life has been taken from me. While the reasons for why or how this has happened are less important to the story now, the fact remains that they are somehow still blocking my progress in moving forward.
Perhaps it is the lack of an apology, or the loss of sincerity, maybe the absence of compassion and empathy. Maybe it's the narrow field of vision of a past not riddled with all things bad, or the resentment still held for things irresolvable. Maybe it's the whispers to the youth of the many things untrue. Forged over years to become a truthful lie used to buffer unhappiness in an effort to make the real unreal at a cost of history rewritten. The easier route taken, but not the correct route to be sure.
This is where my struggle begins. To have the years shared together in a single vision of the truth ripped apart to become the truth of one liar. To watch years of memories reduced and changed into a truth that never happened. To watch one fall into favor as the other falls into nothingness. Nothing more than a footnote.
I am lost in this mess every day but I am trying to rebuild from the pile or rubble left behind by the others that have caused it with little positive effect. Like many that have come before me I have tried to cross the road only to be struck by the 18 wheeler with it's bright's on. There, on the pavement, waiting to be scraped up by the road crew and placed anonymously into the incinerator. Burned, ashes, gone. Road kill.
But I am young (certainly younger than others) and I may recover. I will wake up tomorrow, take a deep breath and take two steps out the front door. I don't have a place to go or know exactly what I'm going to do but taking those steps will be the first positive thing I've managed to do on my own for about 4 years. I know I've got to move on from this or else I'll never be happy but I just don't know how. Everything I loved, everything I had, it's all gone. Too young to quit, too old to start over and to be honest I have no interest in doing so. Maybe time and some more writing will leach it out of me. I don't know. I'm just one more shattered person without any Super Glue.
Trying hard to discover what resolutions I should make in order to make the most of the new year has left me short of breath and wondering. Should I Endeavour to be more like the people I've just seen at the store? Running here, running there, buying bananas and beer in an attempt to usher in the new year on the slightly inebriated side. Dressed and looking the same, these people run around the world stating how original and different they are. They drive the same cars, living in ticky-tacky houses believing that somehow their life is different from they're neighbors.
No, not for me. I enjoy being different, living in different locations, dressing to my own tastes, looking as I want to. I will never be ticky-tacky and if you believe I am, then you haven't taken a close enough look and are therefor not worthy of my attention.
My resolution is simple; I will continue to grow upon my strengths, to be enlightened by change and to live a life worth living. I will give my past a mercy 'shot to the head' and end it's life quickly. My physical pain now behind me I will now find a way to silence the emotional pain I have gathered. I will wrap it in a burlap bag, and drop it into the river. I am not the same, and I never will be.
Happy New Year to all,
Highlights of 2014 (The Good, The Bad and The Ugly)
Now that my medical crap is out of the way I need to start moving again. I've picked up 20 lbs and don't look so dead anymore. It's amazing the crap I've been through the last year, my body is scarred with little probe holes scattered about but the Doctors finally figured out what was wrong and fixed it so no complaints. One of the biggest hopes I have is to bury this unprecedented fear of living life I have developed. I have completely de-evolved and just don't want to be bothered by anyone. Ironically, now that I have nothing more of value to give away, people have left me alone.
I am hoping to put away this love/hate relationship that I battle with constantly. It's difficult because I can see, as I always have, with clarity the abuse I've received but I also know I cannot hold on to it if I am to move on and forgive. I need to realize that some people will never be punished for what they've done and that the world is just not fair, but nobody ever said it was. I still hope the universe will balance it out on it's own.
Goals for 2015
These last few years have really done a number on me. I lost the ability to trust, to fight and to generally just live. It just goes to show what happens when you keep kicking a man when he's down. I am feeling stronger everyday and even if it means that my past becomes a casualty, I know I can get up, kick the dirt off and try it again. Because you can't count on anyone but yourself, even if you don't want to.
2015 is going to kick ass.
I am laying in bed warm and wrapped snug, staring out the window into yet another gray day. I am trying to move but I am sore all over and the light, though diffused, causes my eyes to wince in pain. Once forced open my eyes can clearly make out the gray descending down through the trees. Like a poisonous fog of wretched despair waiting to be inhaled by the unsuspecting it travels closer and closer to my window. At the last second I realize my danger and execute a plan of retreat that will guarantee my safety; I get out of bed.
It's just another winter day here in the Pacific Northwest. These days did not bother me so much until recently. I few years ago I would not have given them a conscious thought. I would have got up out of bed and started my day the same as many other people. I would have went to work, complained about Monday, the bills, the house, worried about the wife, the kids, dogs and cats. I would have went about my way and considered myself pretty normal. These days, however, I find it hard to get out of bed. Really hard!
The clock on the wall says 03:03:00 PM. Bitchen'.
Before I went crazy I would have glanced at the clock, sprung out of bed, and fretted over the wasted time. The sun will be down in 2 hours, another waste of a day. But there is no fretting of the day lost today. No rage or anger that I allowed yet another one slip away. The truth is I let most days slip away. There isn't much to wake up for anymore and when I am awake I become quickly angered at the state my life is in and I am unable to change it. I get rid of one poison only to be injected by another but am still haunted by the first poison. I cannot run, will not fight, and surrendering had no effect.
The sun is down and the vision of gray has vanished. I can still feel it but somehow knowing it's out of sight is refreshing. I crawl back into bed, under the covers, wrapped snug again and wait for sleep to reclaim me. There is comfort in that, or at least there should be. For the one thing I hope to see while sleeping does not visit me anymore. I do not dream anymore. It is a small price to pay for the peace that sleep provides and I do not think my dreams would offer any additional comfort. Maybe when the poison is gone.
Good god, are you kidding me? Thanksgiving? Thanks for what? Oh, I know, thanks for keeping me alive yet another year so that I may experience just one more time the absolute loneliness that loosing an entire family can and does provide. I tried. Really! I called and stopped by to see them on occasion but I guess that doesn't count or tally on their score cards or whatever. It shouldn't be this way, I know that. I mean, I'm their father for fucks sake but Gena made sure there was a score to keep. Well fuck you Gena. With any luck I won't have to deal with knowledge you still walk the Earth much longer. Yes my hate for you grows with every passing day. Holidays amplify the effect simply because I know you don't believe any of this has anything to do with you.
On the plus side of things, I make amazing Deviled Eggs! I'm not kidding, they're fantastic. Those cooking classes are really starting to pay off! Anyone wanting the recipe, drop me line.
Well now I head into Christmas. Oh joy...Maybe I'll be over this mess by then. Yah, I kind of doubt it too. I would like to know, one day, what the the hell gave her the right to upset my life in such a disastrous way. Who gave her the right to push my life reset button, and then walk away as if she had done nothing wrong? I hope one day I'll figure it out before she dies, but I doubt I have the time.
The big question.
How do you start over? How do you let go of the past and, more importantly, learn to forgive the people that have damaged you? I know it's insanity to continue to blame somebody else for your problems and that eventually we all need to step up and take responsibility for our own actions, but what if you can't? What if you just can't stop it because you know better? You know that deep down you did not contribute enough to the problem to deserve the outcome. You know you were wronged and that the innocent are still being punished while the guilty remain free. I just don't know how to continue in life anymore with this knowledge and I have grown tired of forgiveness and the empty promises that somehow my life will turn out all right. Although, there remains one constant phrase I've heard repeatedly over the last few years that I've only recently put any real thought into it. "You're better off without them". I couldn't agree more.
To disappear takes time and effort. I found a new place about an hour and a half from where I previously shared a place with my mother. It's a nice enough place on the bay, a loft I believe. I now split my time between the two places and even though I spend a few nights a week there, it's nice to have a place of my own to go home to. Peaceful and unlisted. Perfect
I then had to get a new phone number. I have grown tired of waiting for the scraps of attention to fall my way, wondering if the kids were ever going to call or if they even cared. I have had four surgeries and been hospitalized 6 times last year. 14 weeks in the hospital and I had family visitors once. Nice. So, to bastardize an old school saying, "If they don't want to call, I won't let them".
It's not that I don't love them, I miss them more than I can say, but I doubt they feel even the slightest bit of concern for me at all. None of this matters anymore. If they want to feel they've had a bad childhood or whatever their bitch is then fine, they're entitled to their opinion. They're wrong, but still.
I doubt any of this will have any effect on the world at large and that's fine. I just want to be left alone to find my way again. All of the people I loved and cared about walked away from me, but not before doing unforgivable damage. Why? Well, I know several versions of this answer. Which one is right? I no longer care.
Well, this is it, the big goodbye.
I could give you a couple dozen reasons for walking away from Experience Project, but I do not think anyone cares enough to listen to them all. And who could blame 'em? In truth, there are two reasons I think are worth sharing with you.
1. I really only sign on to see what my ex-wife is up to,
I know, pathetic, right? Well, not really. It's the only form of communication I have left with her. She continues to blow me off whenever I try to talk to her these days, and quite frankly, I deserve better than that. Yes, I still love her. Probably always will. But I have grown tired of wasting my life waiting for her. I just don't think she gets it, but I'm not getting into that anymore. I am here if she wants me until I am not. You can read what I have left here if you are curious.
2. and... I really think it is time to privatize, prioritize and reinvent my life. I have been through hell and back and shared a great deal of it with you here, but the truth is I do not need this anymore. I am not as crazy as I used to be and I really think it is (relatively) under control. Don't get me wrong, it is an effort to maintain this level of control, but it is my effort. It has become somewhat transparent to those around me. The truth is, also, that I like being crazy. All you 'normal' people are so bland, so boring, it just makes me pitty you for you inability to experience things the way I do. To see the richness of life in the full vibrant color, smells and sounds I do. In addition, I no longer feel the need to justify myself to anyone any more. Here I am, take it or leave it, makes no difference to me.
So, in order for me to move on, someone must be exiled. BohemianTragedy goes on a permanent vacation today and he's not coming back. I'll leave the stories for those interested in how a divorce can utterly destroy a man, how being crazy is really really bad until it's good and other meaningless dribble.
I've come to say what I came to say and now have nothing more to say. Now I'm off to slay dragons or wrestle octopi at the edge of the world or some other 'crazy' thing. So I offer you my farewell. My the gods you believe in grant you peace and wisdom, and maybe somebody you can share them with.
(Robert for short)
I am tearing myself up again. Anxious, nervous, worrisome and contemplating death once more. The past has come to haunt me bringing with it new challenges and fears to overcome. I cannot calm down.
This should be done, over with, kaput, finished. I should not have to deal with these things any longer. Not with the vivid details prescribed to me, at least. Not with these feelings again. Oh no, not with this crap again.
I pace back and forth in my solitude. I am loosing focus on my task, on my ob
I am in pain. Emotional trauma once again. A realization of the truths now summed up neatly in a ledger of emotional bleeding cascades my thoughts as my brain tries, in earnest, to make heads or tails of it. Something is wrong with the processor. Something unfix able short of a replacement. Everything of doing to prevent such a cascading failure has been tried. There is no stopping it now.
And still the questions of life and purpose haunt me. What have I done to deserve all that has happened to me? What measure of man is left to measure in me? I have become a shell of what I once was, a man no more. What have I done for this?
I just want to quit hurting. The war is now long over for me. You may release me from your prison camp. I will go quietly. I will not make trouble. You have won. You have broken my will and I will torment you no further. I will find a rock to hide under until time ends. You may now be rid of me. Please let me go.
Of my past I can only say that I was there. I lived it. I remember it. Even though I will remember a version different from others, different from yours, I still remember it. The past is what defines us. It damages us just as it rewards us and it is a constant never removed from us. It is who I am.
Some would look at the past as better off forgotten, a relic of memories to painful to endure. All damage, never rewarded. They seem to have forgotten that the good things that have happened to them or because of them. The joyous moments, though fleeting, have taken tool to your soul just as the bad has, and has helped shape those things you still believe are good. Those things that make it worth your while to wake up in the morning and do it once more.
Can you be anyone else? Would you be?
There is good in there. There behind the veil of evil you have allowed to grow, covering all that is good, is the truth of your past. Do not allow it to slip away. Do not allow it to change into the evil that you now perceive it to be. There is good in there.
I hold on to my past, both the good and bad. The good is cherished, a reminder of what I can be, what I can have, what I may yet have again, and what I should strive for. It brings a smile to face and friends long past to my memories once more. The bad is there too. A reminder of what I should avoid. Things I should not do. Mistakes once made to review. Together they shape my future, and I am better for the knowledge of it. But what of you? Would you have me forget you if for no other reason then to make this passage easier on you? Would you forget our time together, perhaps lock it away until time itself has forgotten? Do you think our time together evil? Bad? All of it? And what of me?
Am I to forget you?
Damn I feel good!
After 3 plus years of pain, 3 Surgeries, 5 new holes and 132 staples (those things hurt!), I am finally on the road to recovery! It took 6 months to get everything for this straight once they finally figured out I needed surgery. Then the first surgery got botched so they needed a second one just to tell them what they needed to do in the third one.
Whatever...I don't care as long as they can fix it and it appears they have! I sleep at night, am eating again. You know, basic stuff I was missing. My energy is returning. Yep, it's hard to explain, but Damn, do I feel good.
This is not the end of things, however. Nor, is it the beginning. Since acquiring insurance I've been on a run to fix as many things as possible, like my teeth! Bright and shiny, truly worthy of a smile. And my, uh, mental madness stuff. Got a new Therapist and a Psychiatrist and just finished the second to last round of ECT treatments (Electro Convulsive Therapy). Just one more to go. They're really working. I mean, I feel great! But still on the list is my Peripheral Vascular Disease. This one's gonna be tricky (seems to me). They seem to have narrowed the cause of the stroke and subsequent high blood pressure to a series of collapsed veins in my leg. I've had to have 4 CAT scans done so far and a 5th one has been requested. The plan is to go in and re-open them up with "stints" or "shunts" or some damn thing. Seems simple enough but they're having issues with the how part of it. The difference between my leg and body blood pressure is nearly 100 points and that's not good.
It doesn't matter! I feel damned good. They can do whatever they want to me! But not tonight - I got a date! Time to show off my new million dollar smile! Okay, okay, maybe $335,000.00 smile.
Damn! Almost forgot! I QUIT SMOKING 3 1/2 WEEKS AGO!!
God I love having insurance again!
Being crazy sucks. But in all honesty I cannot say with any amount of certainty that I am truly crazy. Sure, last week I was as depressed as a pot-hole on two lane mountain road and this week, I'm still depressed, but I've somehow managed to light that spark that had long gone away. I'm not sure how long it will last, but what the hell, I'll take it.
In an effort to keep my motivation moving forward, I jumped back on my motorcycle and went anywhere I could or wanted to. In addition to my exploration exploits, I've also taken up (or re-taken up) fishing. I already had the gear, plenty of fishing poles and tackle to go around. I bought a fishing license (legal counts), outfitted the motorcycle to be more fishing friendly and ventured off into the great northwest outback in search of my prey.
Having a motorcycle has certain advantages over a car. You can easily navigate the tight spots finding new private beaches and fishing spots. I've found a few nice private areas to drop a line in the water. And to top it off, I've actually caught a few as well (no small feat). Fishing also allows ample time to meditate, read and reflect on things. I don't know if it is of any real benefit, but it makes me feel good.
Still, it's rather lonely. Sometimes the solitude is so loud it's deafening. Then there are the memories of camping days gone by with my family. I remember one great day on Navajo Lake when we must have caught 30 fish! Yes, I know, those days are long gone. Still, I can't help wonder if I were to extend an invitation, would anyone accept it?
Ahh, to be Bi-Polar. What an absolute joy it is to be of two minds. Always in conflict. Always battling for supremacy. Always in the way.
Yes, I can go on for hours about the highs. Everything is better, everything enhanced. I am god like. Invincible and capable. I am all knowing, all doing.
There is nothing un-obtainable. I am king of my universe with the answers to all of life's mysteries. An unstoppable force of nature wielding technology as my weapon of choice and taking no prisoners.
What about the other side? That dark place in my mind where my demon lurks, void of sunlight and all things good? What about it?
This is the time when I withdrawal. When creativity and ambition leaves. When the sky is not so blue and the grass not so green. I could care less about those things that seemed so important to me just a short time before. It's a time that seems to draw in those 'extra' bad things that where circling above your head, out of reach and sight, during the higher times. As if a magic shield that was keeping them away from you had suddenly vanished and now a shit storm of epic proportions has descended from the heavens landing the majority of it's excrement expressly on your best shirt.
Being Bi-Polar is an exercise in being alone. There are no heroes that will swoop down to save you. Your friends and family are gone, tending to there own petty selfishness. No one understands you and nobody cares. That's the truth of it. You can join a support group, take your meds, do everything 'right' and still, you will be alone.
I know, I know...
This is more of a rant than anything else. I'm feeling down and sorry for myself and somehow I've lost that spark that keeps most people moving on. I'm just tired of it all. There are so many things I could complain about right now, and all of it seems more than justifiable offering explanation as to why I am so far in the negative this time, but what would be the point of explaining? I'll just go around in a big circle and end up right back here.
Once around the block is more than enough.
I know I should post this as an "Experience" somewhere but somehow it's just easier to rant about things here. Today, I shall once again rant about Divorce and all it's evil intrepidness.
More to the point, why do people continue to think the way they do?
I have witnessed my 'Ex's' postings of our failed marriage. Always posturing, trying desperately to make people see her as the good person. The person that just had to take that that step to bail out of a 22 year marriage that she was so miserable in. To leave all her stuff (again with the stuff), leave her house, leave her financial security to venture out into the world and bury this, as she puts it, sham of a marriage. Twisting the facts into a fictitious novel of 'truths', believing what she is writing and turning me into the salt that is covering her wounds.
I know it's a matter of perception. Her view on how bad it was, how bad I was to her and the children but it's not the truth. I know our marriage wasn't perfect but I'll be damned if I'm going to let her continue to relegate our failed marriage into a visit to the ninth level of Hell any longer. I remember the good and the bad. There were a lot more good than there ever was bad. Not because I want to remember it that way, but because it was that way. And while the last few years fell into the "I'm working a lot but I'm not trying to ignore you" category for me, I'd really like to remind her that I was working my ass off for us. For our eventual happiness and financial security. I think that had a lot to do with it.
Now, our oldest son has fallen into the same Divorce realm that has encompassed our lives. His wife had an affair with his best friend and it ended their marriage. There are two young children involved and I'm sure it's tearing him up.
The only thing I hope she sees (me Ex) is how this kind of betrayal hurts the other person. How being in love and then having that love ripped away from you is such a devastating ordeal. My son, however, has the advantage of knowing the reason - straight up. There is no question about the why. And he's young, he'll recover just fine. It's not like the time was there, but still, it's gotta hurt like hell.
Every time I read her posts or talk to her, I get the feeling that I missed something paramount. There is never a mention of love only torturous unhappiness that I just don't understand and it leads me to the only conclusion I can come to - that she never loved me.
But I'll never know. She has an agenda that she keeps close to her chest. Was I there only to support our children until they were grown? Again, I'll never know.
I've moved and am finally recovering from the insanity that surrounded me. Left are only questions and a disproportionate view point of nearly 30 years of my life. I am not young. I was set to live out the rest of my days with the woman I was in love with, regardless of the flaws. I will not recover. But these days I find myself upset by what she says. Her one sided views take center stage and I feel an ever increasing need to counter them. Perhaps I'll find an answer to this and all of the Hell she put me through, maybe even find the footing I need to justify that I wasn't the bad guy. I kind of doubt it though. Divorce is a terribly one sided affair.
It was a good idea. "Take Off" an inner voice screams to me. "Re-Start your life!"
So I did.
I thought, "I'll go camping." So I packed up my stuff and took off to a place called Beverly Beach on the Northern Oregon Coast. I thought it would be a good thing. To finally put this train wreck of a past behind me.
I wasn't even close.
The only thing camping alone is good for is to remind you constantly of how alone you really are. A pathetic waste of a person, sitting alone by a camp fire, crying endlessly, pining away hoping endlessly for a life you remember to be returned to you.
But hours slip into days and nothing is changing. "She's not coming back" my voice says. "They are all gone. No one cares."
I forge ahead. Next, on to Devil's Lake. While both camp grounds are beautiful and filled with wonderful and friendly people, they cannot change the fact that I am indeed, alone.
How could those years I dedicated myself to being a good husband and father be so easily forgotten by those I loved so dearly. I am not perfect. Nope, but I am far from the worst.
I am not sure what to say, or even how to feel right now. It's complicated. All I know for certain is I want her to leave me alone. Nothing she says offers any comfort and is a magnitude a selfishness unmeasurable.
Anyhow, putting that aside for the moment, here are some pictures from the trip. I am a terrible photographer, but you get the idea.
My Campsite in all it's glory.
It's amazing how dramatic the changes can be within a mile or so.
That's me BTW (Damn, I'm good looking!)
Yep, you should never go camping alone.
I had just finished moving the last of my "important" stuff to the new place. There was a little more to get, odds and ends mostly, but I was pretty well done with it. Out of nowhere, something hit me - hard! While standing in the bathroom someone in my head turned out the lights and I fell. I was able to regain consciousness and move myself back to the bedroom, where I curled up on the floor and went to sleep. I had fell victim to another stroke.
This time was different, however, as it knocked the wind completely out of me, taking all my ability to move, or respond, or talk. It took a couple of days to recover enough to the point where I could stand again. When I did, things just didn't feel right. My face was numb and it seemed a lot of my basic motor skills had been damaged making it hard to stand. I muddled through it, got up and dressed and prepared myself to return to the old house to finish up the move.
Then, I got hit again. This time I dropped unconscious to the bedroom floor completely oblivious to everything around me. I was dying.
I don't remember the EMT's or the ambulance or even the first hospital. I came around just as I was being transported to the second hospital, but not enough to be of any help to anyone.
After 9 days in the hospital and an endless series of tests, they let me come home with only the knowledge that indeed a stroke had occurred but without any knowledge as to how or why. There is nothing wrong with my heart. They could not find a blockage anywhere. For all intents I was in perfect health and yet had suffered 2 strokes nearly back to back.
So now I wait. Wait for more doctors, more tests, more things I cannot afford. So far, I have 8 different surgeries scheduled to repair things not associated with those strokes. The bottom line is they don't know what or why this happened.
I wait here at my new home hoping I can get a break and return to myself once more. I am unable to work or do anything else too exciting for fear of falling again. Now, I am just a person hiding away hoping a hero shows up to save my life. The rest of the stuff I wanted to move is no longer important as I can't do anything with it anyway. I am just here, that's it.
I'm getting closer. Almost finished. Just a few more boxes and my BBQ.
The place I am moving to is nice enough. Cosmetically, it's much nicer than the house I'm moving from. There are hardwood floors and new paint. Insulated windows and a sliding glass door that works right. A dishwasher and disposal. Somebody that does the yard work and maintenance, a garage and a sizable yard with a patio (you know, for the BBQ). It's smaller then the old place by more than 3/4 of an acre and the garage is really only suitable for parking one car (parking cars in a garage! Work shop blasphemy!).
And of course, there's people everywhere. Living in town sure does have it's disadvantages. What neighbors can you trust? Which ones are the assholes? All questions still to be answered. Still, It is a very nice neighborhood. Lots of families and well kept yards. Not too many "spare" cars parked in front and the kids in the neighborhood seem well behaved and (mostly) normal. It's a good environment. Nice and 'safe'.
On Thanksgiving I was moving my stuff when I found myself in a state of almost despair. The new place has everything you could want in the way of modern conveniences or a nice place to live, sure, but I found myself already missing those things I would no longer have. Those things that made my old place my home.
There is no favorite chair in the shop, next to the wood stove for me to spend my early winter mornings huddled next to. No deer sleeping in the back yard for me to spook. No more can I be the tinkerer with the vast collection of cool stuff to tinker with. I can no longer be the local garage for friends to stop by to work on their car. I will no longer be attacked by the ferocious house cat laying hidden in the tall grass either. No more apples. No more pears, grapes or cherries for that matter either. No more freedom to build it, mold it, paint it or otherwise make better the various structures or landscaping features. No more dreaming of such things either. No more searching for Ralph's treasure. No reason to get up in the morning. And certainly, no more family to occasionally come by and brighten my day.
All the memories, all the dreams, now have to be stuffed way down inside in an attempt to try to hide them from the people that never really cared about how all of this would affect me in the first place. Those people that acted out of spite, that left me crippled and defenseless, can now see the end result of their actions and still claim no responsibility. A friend tried to give me the crap speech about opening new doors leading to a new adventure blah blah blah. I never asked for or wanted any new doors to be forced open for me to fall through. I don't want this! I was happy here but they just couldn't't leave me alone. Now, I'm sure, those same people are quietly grinning inside at my plight. This is, after all, what they wanted. To them I can only say, "watch your back". I'm not dead yet, and I'm not done either.
Bitter? Hell yes! And why wouldn't't I be? It only took 40 years for me to find a place I could call home. It's also something I'll not have again. Home is where the heart is, right? Well I know where my heart is. I doubt the same could be said for the others.
Previous PostsAll Apologies..., posted February 4th, 2015
Crazy, On A Ship of Fools..., posted January 25th, 2015
Howdy Pilgrim..., posted January 25th, 2015
So, Tell Me About Your Mother..., posted January 20th, 2015
Road Kill, posted January 12th, 2015
And Their All Made Of Ticky-Tacky, posted December 31st, 2014
A Year in Toasters - A Review and Hopes for The New Year, posted December 29th, 2014
Gray Day In The Window..., posted December 1st, 2014
Thanksgiving 2014..., posted November 27th, 2014
I Disappear…, posted November 18th, 2014
Goodbye. It's Been Fun…, posted July 17th, 2014
It's Coming Around Again..., posted July 12th, 2014
Am I To Forget You?, posted July 10th, 2014
Paging Dr. Feel Good, Dr. FeelGood To The O.R., posted July 7th, 2014
I Put My Blue Jeans On..., posted June 5th, 2014
Which Way is North?, posted May 30th, 2014, 1 comment
Is There Ever Going To Be An Answer?, posted May 6th, 2014
Camping Should Not Be Performed Alone - Ever!, posted May 1st, 2014
Well That Was Unexpected...., posted January 23rd, 2014
A House No Longer A Home, posted November 30th, 2013
~Fini~, posted November 14th, 2013
Got A Match?, posted November 8th, 2013
Sould I Stay or Should I Go? Go, Definetly Go...., posted October 24th, 2013
Swinging For The Fence..., posted October 14th, 2013
Who Cries for the Broken?, posted October 12th, 2013
Can I Leave Now? Please., posted September 10th, 2013
Out of Sight, Out of My Mind...., posted September 3rd, 2013
The Edge...., posted August 30th, 2013, 2 comments
The Forgotten..., posted August 25th, 2013
So Very Tired, posted August 11th, 2013
A Little Clarity Is Not Always A Good Thing..., posted July 31st, 2013
Open Up My Head and Let Me Out..., posted June 19th, 2013
It's Been A Whole Year? Really?, posted June 19th, 2013
A Broken Record Eventually Stops Working, posted May 25th, 2013
A Fool and His Life Are Soon Parted, posted May 13th, 2013
Traveling A Little Lighter, posted May 10th, 2013
Three Libras, posted May 5th, 2013
Breath In, Bleed Out, posted April 24th, 2013
Into The Intentions of Spring, posted April 15th, 2013
March Madness, posted March 23rd, 2013
Observations Made Through A Cracked Telescope, posted January 25th, 2013
On The Lighter Side..., posted January 21st, 2013, 1 comment
Deal, posted January 20th, 2013
Diving Into Ice..., posted January 20th, 2013
Roam, posted January 20th, 2013
Slow Down...., posted January 18th, 2013, 1 comment
The Missing, posted January 12th, 2013
Damn Dreams, posted January 8th, 2013
More Bad Poetry......, posted January 7th, 2013
I Just Can't Help It..., posted January 7th, 2013
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