Why would you want to love a shattered woman?
“Why would you want to love a shattered woman?” you may ask.
Let me tell you.
You will get someone who appreciates love and kindness. She will not throw
those back at you.
Randomly buying her flowers, cooking her favourite meal, doing the dishes, all
those little things, she will love. If you keep going you will see her grow and
bloom into a beautiful person. Slowly she will get her voice back. I love it
when they do. Heaven help anyone who ever tries to silence them again. That’s the
first part of their confidence. Then as the rest of her confidence returns, oh
how awesome she is. Then one day someone will cross you. The fire that will
come from her, that person will surely burn.
And the love, the passion. It’s like she’s had to repress it for so long. It comes
back, oh it comes back. She will want to go further and deeper. She will want
to find limits and boundaries if she knows she is in safe hands.
Let me give you a warning here dear reader. She may reach a
point where she must spread her wings. She will never leave completely, not if
you don’t want her to, but sometimes she needs her new found freedom. Let her
go, let her fly. Cheer her on as she rises.
Maybe, just maybe, you will find one who stays.
mothers day
It's mother's day.
My wife is dead, my mother is dead. There is nothing to celebrate.
I miss having someone to dote on.
Fuck, my, fucking, life
I'm running a gauntlet of bearucrats who are trying to kill off my business that I have spent 20 years creating.
Because some asshole feels schools working together is wrong and they have to compete instead.
And now they are paying a nationwide chain to undercut me.
So I am losing my clients.
So I am busting my ass trying to keep my last clients happy doing impossible things.
Because I am too sick to go do a regular job.
In short I am very, very fucked and I see no way out.
So I bash my head against brick walls in a futile effort to last a little longer hoping beyond hope something goes right for once in my pathetic fucking miserable existence.
This years lesson, you give up everything for a job, in the end though, they will drop you for the big company who can do more for less. Loyalty is just a word.
Acts of kindness
"Do you still have that wood up the back? I have run out and won't have the funds for more for a little. It was cold last night."
"Sure, come around this afternoon and I'll cut it up."
I get home and pull out the chainsaw and sharpen it's teeth. She arrives and we head up the back. This body of mine is not doing well but it's getting mighty cold at night. She doesn't have a lot of money and she only has solar power, no other heating. A few pulls and the chainsaw bursts into life. I dropped that tree a year ago so I know the wood is dry. I work in bursts. Push until I'm having trouble. I stop and rest. Then do some more. My back is yelling a bit. It's going to be worse later. Can't stop for too long or my back will seize. I cut a couple weeks worth of wood for her, she's working to take it out to her vehicle. I have to stop, feeling faint, buzzing in my ears. Sit for a few minutes. Ok, one last go. I start the saw and finish it off, sweats getting in my eyes. This body is an ass.
I finish off the area, we feel around the grass, she pulls out a few last pinecones and branches. She loads them up and heads off. I go in, take off my I'm fine mask and rest. I'm hurtin tonight. It was worth it. Feels good helping someone with no motive other than "because it's the right thing to do." Her and her daughter will not be cold tonight.
The truth about relationships
“relationships are easy with the right person”
No, no, no. No relationship is easy.
I remember bringing Pollis wheelchair home. She was only
capable of walking a few steps by then. She cried. Losing her ability to walk. Losing
her independence like that. All I could do was reassure her, but I felt it.
Fucking hurts seeing them go downhill like that. Would hurt more being the one
losing it. In sickness and in health, I took an oath. Didn’t need it, I wasn’t
going anywhere anyways. But that’s what you do in a relationship, a real
relationship.
Relationships are worthwhile with the right person The good
times will make the shit times worthwhile, and together there are times that
will feel like your soul is being strangled. That’s the price. The good
tempered with the bad. Knowing everything I know now I would do it again. All
of it.
dancing
The dance of life.
.
They all dance just out of reach. Never quite coming close enough. So I stand, alone. Watching them come in, then moving away. Fallen angel
Sometimes I want to just be another fallen angel. Staying for my daughter.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogVz-gMoncc&ab_channel=MassofMan
Routines can be good too
Spontaneity is great but some routines are awesome too. I
loved Friday nights. We had some favourite TV shows we would watch. That was
our night. All work etc was put aside and we would sit together and watch our
shows. I looked forward to our Friday and she did too, every single week. I
feel a little lost on Fridays now.
All good things must come to an end I guess. Revel in the
normal things, appreciate them too. You never know when that normal won’t happen
anymore.
Words flying
Words flying around my head. Jumbled, I want to catch them,
grab onto them turn them into something that makes sense.
Something in this world that has affected me. Has done for
years. A name. Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow. An obscure name with a little known
event. This girl was 13, a child, she was put in a hole and stoned to death in
a stadium with 1,000 onlookers. Her crime was to be raped. She’s not the only
one, so many more. There is so much wrong in this world.
So much greed, so much meanness. Why can’t we be kinder to
each other? Why? Why this need to trample on others to better ourselves. Why
the need to treat others as less?
I feel odd in this world, not normal, always felt out of
place. Like an alien, I don’t belong here. Sometimes though I think it’s the wrong
way around. I belong, it’s all the others who don’t.
Post tonight about sex, men putting their own pleasure
first. Heard this so many times, I didn’t think it happened much, turns out it
does, a lot. People thinking fucking a moist hole is all there is. So many
walking around clueless as to the incredible journey of sex.
But I am the odd one.
25 years ago I ate the wrong piece of KFC chicken. Got poisoned.
Wrecked my life. Never recovered the damage it did. Never thought about how I was
putting my life in the hands of a greasy 16 year old kid who was under pressure
and undercooked stuff. Just unlucky for me. Now I pay. Can’t prove a thing,
everyone else carries on. Except me.
I’m tired. My soul is tired as well as my body.
Asshole around the corner, beats women, his partner left
him, 2 weeks later he had another one. I haven’t even dated a woman in over a
year.
Won’t stop being me though, I’ll be kind and lonely before I
be an attached asshole.
Swirling thoughts. Words flying around in my head.
Aspie, with PTSD, too much shit happened at various times. No
one knows it all, no one. I doubt anyone ever will. Some things are better
locked away.
Still my thoughts fly in circles.
I stand, alone. Even in a sea of people.
Goodnight Ronald
Well Ronald. Looks like your time has come. You have found a good place to go. Under the grape vine. It's getting cold. Night is falling. Good. It will help you ease off into your forever sleep. You are comfortable. No pain. I'm glad. Didn't want to take you to the vet. You get to go on your own terms. I don't know if you can hear me talk. But I will anyway, so you know I'm here. Not going to reach out. I want you to sleep. Make it easier.
You never did take Pollis death well. You were her cat. Even though you sometimes sat with me watching tv. You charmed the nurses when polli had to have dressing changes climbing up on her before they started. Resting upside down. You knew you couldn't move while it was being done and you stayed there for 45 mins each time.
Your breathing is a bit rapid. Occasional twitches. "It's ok Ronald" I'm telling him, "You can go".
My phone is going flat now. Needs charging. I have a blanket. I'll watch over Ronald a bit longer.
last night's nightmare
Last night's nightmare was real weird. I'm in a shower not my own. I look down and my nut sack is melting off. I'm staring at it wondering what to do and hoping it's somehow just a layer while wondering how the hell I'm going to get home.
I don't get it
I don't understand, the violent abusive asshole around the corner. His girlfriend left him finally. 2 weeks later he has someone new.
Here I am, still very single.
Weary
I am weary.
Weary of this world with its meanness and brutality.
Weary of random violence towards others.
Weary of those who step on others to get ahead.
Will humans ever learn?
Or will we be forced to endure this bullshit for all eternity?
Polli, her name was Polli
Polli. My late wife’s name was Polli. Her real name was
Pauline, she hated it, said it felt like an ill-fitting hat. I am going to
start calling her Polli instead of my wife. I am not married. I was, but no
more. If I am to make room for someone else, then I need to do so. I am no
longer married. I have no wife. It does not diminish those 16 years we had. I
will go to my grave with nothing but the deepest of love for her. But space
must be made if I wish for someone else.
I want to move forward.
There is some sadness in that. But I want to move forward.
It’s time.
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.
It's just a job.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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