One Bad Day

Actually it has been several bad days. Two days ago I attempted to commit suicide. This hasn’t been the first time. I honestly can’t say it will be the last. Last time I tried I said never again, this is the last time. I see how far that got me. 

I’ve been disagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, depression and a few other things. I’ve been in therapy for over half my life. And no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of the feeling that I am broke. 

It’s odd. I have good days. Quite a few really. But when the bad days show up, they are extremely bad. Last night I found myself curled up in a ball, back pressed in a corner crying. I was shaking bad enough my Fit Bit registered it as steps, and my jaws hurt from how hard i clenched them. 

The night before that is when I tried. Most of the time I feel useless. I feel unwanted. I look into the mirror and I hate who looks back. I find myself fat and ugly both inside and out. I wonder who could ever love a person like me. Add onto that all the baggage I carry, and the additional difficulties of being with a person who has PTSD, I think that the situation is hopeless. 

I have two failed marriages. That makes me feel real good about myself too. 

All of the above hit me at once and I couldn’t take it. I felt the only way out of the pain was to not be alive. I know it’s the wrong way to think. In the moment when drowning, alone, I  panicked . It was like screaming into the dark for help, but only hearing your echos answer. 

So two days removed I’m sitting here, with my mind on overdrive. Self doubts, self questioning, and a hundred other things going through my head. And all I want is quiet. 

What I wouldn’t give for one night of quiet 


First Efforts

“Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere.”

–Anne Lamott 

Saw this quote this morning and it stuck with me. Can the same be applied to life. Struggles lead to pain. Pain teaches us, and we become better. 

Letting Go of a Dream

It feels to me that I have reached a very pivotal point in my life. Sadly, I’ve come to the realization that some of the dreams I held onto for so long will never come to pass. Most of them are minor. Some I knew would never happen and fell into the “in my wildest dream” category. One however remains painful to think about letting go of. 
Children. For most of my life I wanted children. It may be odd to hear a guy say, it to me the idea makes life sound complete. Not easy. Just complete. 

My grandfather raised me with perhaps an older set of values. A successful life is one where you provide for your wife and children. You make sure that they are better off than you were at their age. I’ve tried so hard to have that, yet that part of my life is empty. 

Somehow, even if it’s a bit misguided, I feel like a failure. Partly because I know I have to move the idea of kiddos from the dream to far fetched fantasy category. 

Mostly because it requires two people. And I am one person. And a guy. Given that I’m middle aged (I shutter typing that), and I’m not the most attractive guy (no filters means honesty with yourself too I guess), and I’m painfully shy, the chances of me finding a woman around my age or younger who wants to fast track a family and kids approaches the 0%. 
 I’m also not rich enough to be a sugar daddy damn the luck. 

Maybe it’s just the solitude of sitting out on the porch alone in the dark, listening to the spring frogs and bugs chirp. Life isn’t complete till there’s someone to share with. 

An Open Letter to my Ex Wife

Out of most things in my life, I regret not being able to make us work the most. It’s taken time but I have come to realize that the fault isn’t with me. Or with you. We were just best friends who didn’t work out as anything more. 
I wish the paths of our lives would have been the closer together and that we would have craved the same things: Kids, career, traveling. On the surface we seemed so close yet that divide between us proved insurmountable. 

I am sorry for a lot of things that happened during our time together. The one that still gives me nightmares is that you felt ugly, unattractive and unloved. Not a day went by, including after the papers were filed, that I didn’t think you were beautiful. I think I I always will too. Maybe I just didn’t show you enough, or took the little things for granted. 

I wish I would have told you how some of your words hurt greatly, rather than saying “I’m fine” and trying to deal with it later. I let that two word statement cause way too much damage. 

Maybe it would have been fixable had I spoken up. That is something I will have to carry with me. 

 I will always care about you. It happens when you love another person as long as we did. You leave marks behind. Both good and bad. 

I know that most of what was said and done came from anger. That anger was born out of fear and pain. I don’t hold it against you. I understand. In the beginning I didn’t, but I do now. 
I want the best for you. I know that’s not me. We could have went round and round for years more. We both were stubborn enough, just not in the right areas. I still get sick knowing I’m the one who said to stop. I felt like all we were doing was hurting each other. 
I miss my best friend and those moments we shared. I know we are trying to make some type of friendship work. It’s difficult. But thank you for the effort. 
I know you won’t ever read this. Maybe this is my way of having some closure so I can move on. Guess only time will tell.  

Office Drama Queens

I hate drama. Now I’m not talking about the kind found between the pages of a good book, or played out on the silver screen. No I am referring to work place drama. And those who try to stir it up.
I have one woman in my office who feels my life should be completely open to her. I’m sorry I’m not some book that you can scan the pages of looking for some juicy tidbit. 

Take today for example. She’s standing near my desk when my phone rings. I’m fairly busy, both working and ignoring her. The conversation following was priceless:

Her: Your phone rang. 

Me: Yes, they tend to do that from time to time. 

Her: Arn’t you going to check who called?

Me: No. 

Her: Why?

Me: Because I don’t want someone to listen in on my conversations. You know how nosy people are. 

Her: Oh my god. Who? I have to know. 

It took all my self control not to face palm myself right in front of her. 

Removing the Filter

Sometime here recently I removed my filter. You know that thing that keeps you from saying something completely out of line or totally inappropriate. Yeah that thing. Well I took it out, and after some inspection found some pretty gaping holes. So I didn’t put it back. I’m to the point were I don’t care about having one. So I decided to try something new. A life without filters.

I sit in a park right now writing this first blog, not knowing where life is heading. Is it worrisome? Yes. Does it bother me? Not as much as I thought. Kids are playing without a care in the world. Then it dawned on me. Kids for the most part are happy. And guess what they haven’t developed yet. A filter.

Yes I know. It’s a pretty thin argument. But think about this. How much of our lives are spent modifying ourselves or our views for other people. And for what end. Acceptance? Little good that will do you if you’re miserable at the end of the day.

So this is the first step in a journey of who knows how many. No more filters. No more touch ups on photos. No more changing who I am unless it’s for me. Let’s go for honest and real.

It’s time to be honest with myself and with others, and in true over the top fashion I’ve decided to blog this entire train wreck. At least it should be interesting.