What the hell happened?

hospitals and PTSD days

Had to get a CT scan at the hospital. Saw one of my wife's Drs on the way in. Was kind of ok until I left. Felt so down all day. Slept a bit. Managed pretty much nothing. Was exhausted.

Wanted someone to talk to. To pick me up. Meh. I'm the healer. No one to heal me.

Was asked to help others. Used my last bit of energy on them.

Tired. It's too hot. Can't open window, party down the road.

Don't want to carry on like this.

I spent 20 years working for a place. We did great things there. Helped a LOT of people, setup community initiatives. I made less than the going rate for my skills. It was ok. Worth it for the right job. We all made sacrifices to be there. Last year the person in charge retired. New person came, I saw the place change dramatically, a lot of people left. I held on. Took a reduction in my hours, I was there for the people I was helping.

A couple of weeks ago I was dropped, as an independent contractor they were able to drop me without notice or reason, so they did. Today the new company, a nationwide chain took over and I had to hand the systems over.

20 years, all that time, effort and sacrifice. I was sent off without even a thank you.

A part of me is glad, it's turned into a toxic environment. But all that work. And now I have lost a massive chunk of my income and I am too sick to go hunting for more work right now.

Out of respect for those who are stuck there still I will not be naming the place.

But this sucks the big one.

it's all gone

I’m sitting here realizing that everything I had accomplished 15 years ago is gone.

I thought I was set for life in my career, nope.

I thought my health while not great would still last me to retirement, nope.

I thought my marriage would last until I was elderly, nope.

I thought the house I was in at the time would be mine until I died, nope.

Still here though. Sick of being resilient. How about some good things happening.

It’s a bitter, sad, photo this one. I took it as I stepped out of the hospice after my wife died. I’m 47 years old. In all that time there has only ever been one woman who truly loved me with such depth. I’m not sure it will ever happen again. I have tried to love again. Trying to find that love again. It’s not easy. Yes, there have been attempts. The shit that goes through your mind when you try to pick up the pieces. People telling you how terrible you are for tying to find something again. I already felt it. First time I tried to have sex I almost puked from the guilt. Kept telling myself she was gone. It was ok. I don’t know anymore. Maybe I am too broken.

I’m kind of jealous, she’s free, free of pain, free of stress. She’s not up all night trying to figure out how to keep going as everything in your life gets more and more fucked up. I swear, this train is gonna wreck. There’s got to be a curve that I can’t take. Been close a few times.

If you ever find that right person hold on for all you have, do all that you know, try all that you don’t. Relish the moments. Not just the big things. Enjoy a picnic in a spring evening. Walk along a beach, have dinner in a shitty dive. Joke in the supermarket, pick up a cucumber and give her a look. Watch a movie at home. Join her in the shower. Perve as she climbs into bed. Take her to yard sales. Do it all, knowing that everything must end one day. Oh, and take photos. Because one day that’s all you will have left.

fallen angel

life

My life is shit. I want to die. But I can't.

Liked, not loved

Liked by many. Intimately loved by none. Just an ideal. Nothing more.

Can I borrow you?

Can I borrow you for a few mins?

Sure.

I would take her into the bedroom, have her lay on the bed.

I would climb behind her, hold her close.

And for a little bit, the world was ok.

I miss this so much.

Not so brave

People tell me I'm brave and strong because my wife died. I'm going to dispute that. Circumstance happened to me and I held on. No bravery, because I was given no choice. I just read a piece written by a woman who pulled herself out of a violent relationship including some of the shit he did when she tried to get out and after she got out. That, that was bravery.

I'm not a person with much hatred, but I wouldn't mind sitting down with a few assholes and having a few words.

aspie

You won't understand, you can't understand. What it's like in our heads. It's so much I can't really explain it.

I listen to music, the silence, it's deafening. That high pitched whistle. Tinnitus. But there's the other things, a tap dripping, a pen clicks, a fan whirrs, oh how I hate fans. The music, it stops some of the sounds.

The feel of things on my skin. Wool is the worst, it's like some sort of lava sandpaper. Denim, so unforgiving and rigid. It sits in hard pieces digging at me.

Soft, gentle. Yes.

My fingers. They need stimulation, they need to move, feel, touch. It helps my overloaded brain. Distraction. Slow it down.

My brain, oh my addled brain. It takes in so much. And it's all separate, my brain doesn't go car, my brain goes blue Toyota Camry with one headlight more translucent than the other. Then multiply that by all the cars. It's working hard to process everything, all the time. Too many things and it overloads.

People. Ohhh, trying to talk. One person is ok. My mind will process, what is their face doing, are their hands moving. What are they saying, is there extra information I need to process because they used their hands, where do I look. Oh, facial expressions need to process those too. I need to reply soon. Keep it in your mind. Prepare an answer and have it ready so you sound normal. Is it going to sound acceptable? Must process all of it. I can keep up. Until there's another person and I have to double my efforts.

I have to go out in all this and restrain myself. Look normal. Wear a kind of mask to fake being like you. It's so tiring keeping up the charade.

But people know. They know, the mask slips sometimes. Some are mean. Different is bad. Aspie is an easy target. Feel power by being above another. Take down the easy one. Picked on for being not like you. How you revel in our discomfort. We hide, retreat. Then we get hated at work. Not a team player. First to get fired or looked over for promotion.

Or we get pushed locking ourselves down more and more until we explode. Hopefully we make it home first. Older we get the more we can suppress it.

We take drugs or drink alcohol. Oh we do so often. Our minds slow you see, we start to think clearly. Body's start to numb. Maybe even get close to your thinking. Nice to go there for a little.

No, we don't long to be you. We want to be us. With our thoughts and feelings. Even if it's hard.

And we want to be loved still. Oh to be loved. Sometimes they come and they love us. Beautiful souls.

Tired

I am so, damn, tired. Not just my health but that's a major part of it. Everything, everything feels like a battle, trying to work, trying to navigate humans, money, illness, being alone. I'm tired of doing nothing but battle. Please, let me rest. Let my soul rest, let my mind rest, let my body rest.

Not going to happen though, is it?

Tired and alone

Somedays you feel it inside, you want to write the grandest of words, you want to create tears of joy, speak of the deepest of sorrows, create the most carnal of lust.

You stare at the keyboard. And all you see is "I'm tired and alone."

Fucked up life

Yesterday I was sitting in my yard cutting up weed to dry so I can have a measure of pain relief worried because one of the local gangs has been going through my back yard raiding properties of their weed and if Jack finds them they are likely to kill him, all while wondering how I'm going to be able to get enough energy to work because my credit cards are at $15,000 and climbing.

And that's how fucked up my life is.

Pictures

The more I happen upon pictures of my dead wife the more she looks like a stranger.

Why?

Why in the fucking fuck of all that is fuck do I have all this shit happen? Come on? Can't I catch a break?

2 months of feeling like shit, pushing Drs over and over, finally get a scan to find that I need more scans to find the issue. More waiting while I can barely function. Months I expect because here you are nothing but a number, there for their convenience.

My biggest client dumped me for another company, not surprised, new head honcho is a bitch. Hope it bites her in the ass.

My best friend. The only close one I have is selling up and moving hours away. And today I find she has a new boyfriend. Fucking great. More alone.

Fuck this life. Fuck this world. It's a lemon and I want my money back.

Seriously. My life is a fucking piece of shit, all I do is get fucked the whole way through it.

Ohhh looky, someone telling me my wife died because god needed her. Well then god is a fucking selfish cunt! If you did god, then fuck you too!!!!

How's it going?

Hey how's it going?

Terrible, my health is failing, the depression is hitting me hard from the exhaustion.

I'm sorry, hey, I have this problem with my computer.......

1am and friendzones

1am. I should be asleep.

Got planted firmly in the friendzone tonight. Pity, she seemed so nice. She did it kindly. I knew it was coming. Already worked out the logistics, it wasn't going to happen. I'm used to it, but, well. That teeny spark of hope. It gets that little more dimmer.

Facebook wouldn't allow me to post this. Apparently it violates community standards. Seriously, fuck you facebook. You really are a faceless corporation with literally zero empathy.

Earth is a special hell.

Why are you single.

Why am I single? Why? Let me tell you.

I am good, I am everything you read.

But you don’t see the rest. You don’t see what’s going on inside.

You didn’t see me almost having a panic attack because I had to buy fuel that wasn’t at my favourite place.

You didn’t see me upset because I can’t get the pants I like anymore and it’s the only type I wear.

You don’t see me trying to make myself go to the cheap supermarket because my income is disappearing. I’ll do it soon, really I will. Its just my one is more comfortable.

You don’t see me sitting in the parking lot before giving up and going home. I couldn’t go in today.

You don’t see me hiding in my bed for an afternoon mindlessly scrolling facebook because the world is too loud.

You don’t see me awake at 3am trying to figure out how to keep my broken family going. Me n my daughter.

I want to be like you, I want to me normal. I want to I want to. But I’m not.

I will never turn it on you, that will never happen. Ever. But me. I’ll turn on me in a second. Just like so many others have done to me.

I wish someone would turn up, I wish she would break down my walls. I wish she would allow me to be me until I heal me. I wish she would stay and hold on. I can be better, I can, I was.

For now I am a broken person in a broken world.

Buried alive in a hole I dug myself. I’m trying to get out, trying and trying but its deep and sometimes I slip, then I have to climb again and my hands are bleeding.

Release from a narcissist.

We were sitting together one night having a beer. She took a gulp, put the beer down and a teeny burp escaped. I looked at her and grinned. She looked back, mortified. “I’m so sorry” she stammered. “Ugh” I thought, “her asshole narc ex.” I kept smiling, “that was so freaking adorable.” “Now this”, I said and chugged half a bottle before ripping a larger burp “is a real burp.” She looked slightly stunned for a second. “Sorry, it’s just he would tell me off for anything that was not becoming.”

She burped again, just a little bit. I grinned at her. She smiled back, feeling just that little more free of him. Just a small step to her being her.

Harsh times bring on harsher times

Well, it's a shit show right now. I knew my biggest client was going to drop me but I hoped, you know? Hoped it wouldn't happen. So there goes 1/3rd of my income. That's after I lost half of it a few years ago. I don't even earn minimum wage anymore. All I have to show for it is $12,000 in credit card debt. No longer the celebrated top IT person in the country.

My health is shit. It's getting worse. I can only do a few hours work before needing to stop. I'm trying to get hospitals etc to listen. But I'm just a number, a simple statistic. So I go on to the waiting list and hope I live long enough to attend their appointments.

And now, someone has turned up. Dear reader, she's kind, intelligent, caring and I'm going to say it. Real pretty too. Logical me kicks in, sees the logistics. She's stuck there, I am stuck here. Close, but not close enough.

Fuck you life. Give me a break. Come on.

I know, It's always darkest right before the dawn n shit. But fuck me. This is just too much.

Gotta stay, for my daughter.

Drunk Ramblings pt3

I sit at a blank screen, blink, blink flashes the cursor. What to say? What to say?

47 years, feels more like thousands of years. They call me an old soul. I feel it some days.

You gotta hurt, hurt to learn. I don’t know why. But its true. If you grew up fortunate you don’t know. You don’t know what it is to be dragged through the mud. You simply can’t relate.

You can have sympathy. But you don’t have empathy. Not until you have been burned. Not until you have been at the bottom, begging the universe to just kill you.

You think you know me. You don’t. None of you do. Not even my family. I’ve seen things, experienced things. Helped people. Ones you have no idea about.

I am me. No more no less. I’m no hero. Just an ordinary human who never got the hang of being ordinary. My mind is a mess, helps me see the world differently. Good and bad that one.

Kindness. World needs it so badly but it can’t happen. Too much fear. Gotta be tough or get broken.

We know the world is wrong. It’s why we have our things to get through. Alcohol, drugs, pills, buying shit. Sex (oh I miss that one) We know its all a mess, powerless to stop it.

It’s gonna get worse. Economy is a trainwreck about to unfold. Theres coming a point where its going to hit. Many casualties. People don’t know. Too busy hiding in fear, unable to see it. Good. Distraction. Easier.

Alone. Not a fan. Won’t compromise. Refuse. No putting up with shit. Modern Gentleman knows, I aint much to look at, but I bring good things to the table, even if I am a mess.

What is the modern gentleman? Here to show people. Mainly women. There is good. If they see it then they know. Less putting up with shit. If they all refuse to put up with shit then shit will have to change.

Hurting people

Yeah, I’ve hurt people. I never like doing it but sometimes in life that’s how it goes. Sometimes you get in a corner and there’s no choice. Sometimes you gotta do it for a promise, sometimes wrongs have to be righted.

I had to stop them. I had to try. My wife wasn’t the first one they had killed. I never knew that at first. No one told me that when I started down that track. My wife made me promise. “If I don’t make it through this, don’t you walk away. You don’t walk away, you stay, and you fight them for what they did to me.” My last promise to her. I’m nothing amazing and I am a total pacifist, but a promise is a promise.

So I gave myself 2 weeks and then I started down the path. I tore myself to pieces. Recounting in detail everything they did that lead to her death. 6 pages. 6 terrible wrenching pages. Some saw what it was doing to me and told me to stop. No, a promise is a promise. No retreat.

“I’m on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell” goes the song. I played it over and over. “Arms wide open I stand alone, I’m no hero and I’m not made of stone.”

They tried, they tried to stop me. They even bought in my therapist to get info from her. Nope, didn’t tell her shit. I know how to walk alone. Done it for so much of my life.

They called me after they got that letter. I could tell the woman had been crying. Good, it made it’s point. She apologised, then I knew it was right, because there’s no way she was allowed to apologise. Wrong side of heaven. Don’t care. Sometimes the Gentleman must be a warrior. Yes Kenny Rogers, Sometimes you’ve gotta fight when you’re a man.

They offered me a meeting. With 2 people not involved in her care. Nope. No. I was taking this all the way, seeing it through. I told them I wanted them all there, all those involved in her care. I am a quiet, autistic, introvert. Didn’t care. I’m no hero. But there comes a time when you must stand. If it was for me I may have folded. But no one does that to mine. So I walked in and faced 10 heads of department and surgeons. I found out later that they think these meetings are a bit of a joke. The person yells a bit, cries and then leaves. No, nope. Not me.

They had one last thing up their sleeve. Almost got me. They were all there waiting for me. Made me sit in that room after they were all comfortable already. Then they told me I was running the meeting. Bastards. Nope. Fuck ‘em. I was prepared anyways. So I simply started talking. I never yelled, never go mad, sure as hell didn’t cry. Over the next 2 hours I carefully slowly, factually tore them to pieces. Was I trying to hurt them? I sure was. With no one else to worry about I didn’t give a shit anymore. I was going for it. I knew I was impacting them when one of the surgeons broke down and started crying.

I couldn’t help my wife. But I managed to make some points. Most people will never know, don’t care, it wasn’t about ego. I have saved lives with some of the changes. Some they refused. But I made a difference. She didn’t die for nothing. And I kept my promise.

Did I damage myself? Yeah. That was mental torture. I faced it pretty much alone. No friends, they would not have coped and I had to focus, couldn’t be pulling them along.

Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

One day, maybe one day I will get to love again, love like that. I hope so. I hope I never have to go through that end ever again. But you can bet, if I have to, I will. Song just came on, turn the page

I shall remain, The Modern Gentleman.

alone

Feeling very lonely this morning. Maybe it's the fatigue. Working hard, feel like shit, and the straps on my CPAP aren't working right so I'm short of sleep too.

nightmare

Last nights nightmare. I had left my car parked on the side of the road. When I returned it wasn't where I thought I left it. Dude said he had, had it towed. I didn't believe him because there was no legal grounds for it to be towed and he couldn't tell me who the towing company was, he gave me a street but there's no towing company on that street. So I went searching for my car thinking I had forgotten where it was. No sign of it so I'm thinking maybe it did get towed. I pull out my phone to start searching for a towing company in that area and to call them and my phone was broken, very, very broken, a massive hole right in the middle.

Going to bed

It’s getting on, I shower and climb into bed, I can hear her in the shower getting ready for bed too. She wanders into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel. “ooh, can I borrow your towel?” I ask with a grin. She gives me a look. “Hey, a guy has to try, it’s not my fault you have a great ass,” I respond to her gaze. She does a small eye roll but there’s a grin there. “Roll over,” she says, “so you can’t peek”. “You know, I have seen your naked body thousands of times,” I grumble as I look away. “Yeah but you know I hate you watching as I climb into bed” I feel her climb in and I roll back over. “It’s a bit chilly” she says. “I know, now I get to snuggle you with all my warmness.” I roll over and wrap myself around her. “ooh you are warm” she coos. “I know, my hands are warm too, just right for your tushy!” I say smiling. I nudge her to roll on her side and my hands find their mark. “Did I mention you have a fine ass today?” I ask. “Yes, I believe you did once or twice” she said with a smile. “Oh good, just checking.”

It never got old.

lost cause

Sometimes you go looking for salvation at the bottom of a bottle. You know it's not there, but at least you can escape for a little. Just some respite from your screaming mind and the pain your body has to endure.

Walk away, leave me here to drown.

Depressive episodes

I'm a few days into a depressive episode, doing nothing but the bare minimum. Sleep a lot.

No one has noticed.

Shitty dreams

Last nights nightmare was heartbreak.

I dreamed my wife didn't die. She decided to leave me. Fresh heart break. I woke up and still hurt.

Isn't it interesting how it's our heart that hurts in these times.

Been down all day.

I tie my shoelaces wrong.

I have been told by many people the way I tie my shoelaces is odd. Some have tried to show me the “right” way to do it. I’m not changing. It’s how my mother showed me to do it. A little fragment of her lives on in that moment. Yesterday I drove past the place she was killed, 20 years ago. As always I slowed a little, acknowledged the place as I always do.
Sometimes Facebook memories show me parts of my life with my late wife. Some of its fun, nice, some of its harsh and brutal, her death was a terrible way to go. Fragments will remain with me for the rest of my life, good and bad.
I can wander through the house and there are reminders of people, the paintings done by my grandfather. A small marker pen drawing on my porch that I refused to paint over done by someone I am close to even though we don’t talk often.
A few days ago something from my facebook memories came up about my wife. It wasn’t a good reminder and I commented on it. I was told by someone it was time to move forward over her death. The thing is all those past experiences are what bought me up to where I am now. Both good and bad. It’s not about letting go or moving forward. It’s about acknowledging our pasts and building on them. Did I love my mother? Absolutely. Did I love my wife? Totally. I accept their deaths, I acknowledge they are gone and they aren’t coming back. But I refuse to block everything they did, everything they were and every effect everyone who has been in my life has had on me, everyone who has been in my life is a part of who I am.

Societies rules

Society has all these rules. You must look a certain way, you must be a particular type of person. You have to be outgoing, but not too much, you have to dress with the current styles, but be mildly different, but not too much. Look feminine, but not too much, look masculine, but not too much. Wear makeup, but make it look like you don’t. Be skinny, but not too much. Be with someone but act like you don’t want to be. Be independent, but be a little dependant.

In the end we have a bunch of confused people who have no idea who they are supposed to be or how they should act. Here’s the Modern Gentleman’s advice. If no one else is being hurt (apart from the twats trying to force you to be who you aren’t) then be you, talk your talk, dress your dress, think your thoughts. Cast the “trying to make you into who you aren’t” losers aside. It’s way easier and one piece of freedom you can have.

Darkness

almost 4 years

Monday will mark 4 years since my wife died. It's hitting me hard today. I wish I didn't have to face those times alone. Then I feel guilt over wanting someone else. I know it's not the case, and I keep telling myself she's dead and not coming back. But It's hard, feels a bit like I'm cheating on her.

Sometimes I am ok with being alone, I'm not entirely sure I am relationship material anymore, maybe I am too broken now. A few attempts have not gone well.

Hopes n dreams

"It's all gods plan" or "god doesn't give anymore than you can take" has to be the two shittiest fucking things people can say, next one to give me either of those is going to wear a full aspie meltdown from me and are going to be told to get fucked in no uncertain terms.

My mother is dead, my wife is dead, my sister has a big tumor in her head, my father has cancer. My company is going bust and I am fucked if I know what I am gonna do about that. My back is getting worse, I'm in pain, all the time, the only time I cant feel it is when I am drunk. It always seems like the more I go down the more people want to fuck me over. At one point shit got so bad when my first house was taken from me the stress was so much on my wife we lost our son. Christmas day. Fucking great day that one (sarcasm).

Sure, I could turn into a nasty piece of shit and people would go "well, he's had it pretty hard" but I won't, every day I am going to pick myself up and be me. If I have to drag myself through this fetid sewer called life I will.

What I do is I dream. I dream that someday, somehow, things will get better. Statistically speaking if I keep going then somewhere something good has to happen. If you flip a coin it can only come up tails so many times before it changes and you get heads.

I hope that someday, somehow someone is going to go, wow! Hes a good guy. He's been through some shit and yet he's still, a good person. I'm going to show him some real love.