Regrettable

Today, I deliver bad news to you. I have no idea how to do it.

I'm going to end our arrangement. I'm going to give you two weeks to move out of my house. I'm going to listen to you either rage at me or explain why my decision is all wrong, or maybe something in between that I can't predict. But it must be done.

It's silly this all came crashing down over a bag of frozen bananas. But also fitting, given the nature of our disagreements. 

Why do you need to leave me to live in peace in my own home? Unfortunately, it's because you don't fit in. Maybe you can't; maybe your ways are just too set in stone. Maybe your expectations for cohabitation are just too far away from mine. Maybe I simply don't live up to your standard of a housemate. 

I'm willing to accept all these perspectives. It's only fair you'd be upset, maybe even angry. You'll now have to scramble to find a new place to live. I'm not sure that can be done effectively in two weeks. But to be fair, you might have seen this coming. And to be more fair, I'm not sure what other response from me you might have expected.

Let me clarify: my sympathy for your perspective is not the equivalent of "it's not you, it's me". Because it definitely IS you. You knew you were moving into MY house when we made this plan. We established fairly quickly your influence on the household would be minimal: that I would make some concessions for storage space, shopping preferences, and how to live with the animals, but for all intents and purposes, you were expected to assimilate into the way I lived, not the other way around, and not even some kind of compromise. This should not surprise you, and I'm not sure why it surprised me to have discovered this expectation to have been unreasonable in your eyes. 

I extended this invitation to you as a gesture of love. I've watched you struggle in your previous 'home' environments the last few years and wondered how you could possibly have survived. I am also a survivor, so I know that's just what we do, no matter what. I broke out of my family's dysfunctional cycle because I had school, and my eyes opened, and I was set free. My ideal three months ago was that your eyes would open: you'd get into a supportive emotional space, somewhere nobody would steal your stuff or demean you every time something went "wrong" (whatever that meant on any particular day). My ideal was to give you space to catch your breath and let a productive adult life take seed: you'd get (and keep) a job, you'd set goals to finish your GED and get a driver's license, you'd save money and get your finances on a sound path. 

To your credit, those things started to happen. I'm not exactly sure why they stopped happening, but they did. But that's not why you now have to leave. The only conditions for living in my house were that you pay the modest rent and live with us peaceably, though only the former was specifically outlined in our Agreement. I suppose I'll come to regret that now, but whatever. In all my sparkly-eyed idealism, we both know what I offered you was more than just a place to live: it was a place in my home, in my family. But now I think you either weren't ready for such an offer, or had no intention of accepting anything but the physical space reserved for you in the floorplan.

Our conflicts were varied, from the dogs to dishes to the air conditioning. It became clear early that we're both quite stubborn. You came across as demanding and pushy. Maybe I came across as a dick. The difference between us is that you have been living with me, not the other way around, so when we don't agree on a thing, it's my preference that stands. Maybe at your age it's too much for me to expect that you'll just keep quiet and live with the things you don't like until you can get on your own feet, but for $100/month and all ways I've changed my daily life to accommodate you,  I don't mind telling you that I don't care. I've held up my end of the bargain and more, and you've continued to express your dissatisfaction with what I've provided.

You've been demanding, disrespectful, defiant, manipulative, and dishonest. You've yelled at and threatened my pets. You've attempted to use my uncertainties and doubts to your advantage. You've tried (and failed, btw) to fuel conflict between me and my ex to get your way. You've manipulated and abused the relationships I have with my kids so you can win small, temporary victories. You've attempted to gaslight me into believing past conversations meant something entirely different than when we had them. You've outright lied to me. You goad me into confrontations and bait me with conflict to try to make a point. You may even steal from my daughter before this is over.

I'm trying to imagine your expectation of it working, as if I'll somehow have the "Aha!" moment and the lightbulb will come on, and I'll suddenly let you run the dog grooming business out of my living room, clippering and trimming poodle puppies on my living room table while sitting on my couch; or consent to you constantly throwing my food away whenever you decide it's time, without talking to me or considering how much it costs to shop; or that I'll force my dog to always make room for yours because you aren't interested in teaching them to get along, only to fear conflict.

Here's the newsflash, honey: this is my house; this is my dog's house; this is my daughter's house. This is not your house, or your dog's. You were brought here to adjust to the way I live, not the other way around. I've been patient, I've tried to be as loving as I can, and I've done my very best to understand where you're coming from at any given time during our arguments.

Because I know you're angry all the time. I know you've been through emotional abuse, and other kinds. I know you have anxiety, and attention problems, and diagnosed mental health issues. I know you have PTSD as a result of childhood trauma. I know you need help, and time, and space. I know this because at your age I wasn't much better off. I'm not holding any of this against you. However, I can no longer offer you any help, or any of my time, or any of my space. You've taken every last bit of compassion and sympathy I could offer and wasted it because I wouldn't let you smoke weed while my daughter was in the house (or whatever else I did to make you unhappy on any given day).

You'll never know what this almost cost me, or what it has actually cost me. You'll never see that side of me. And you've given up any right to seeing me vulnerable again, or having me open up to you emotionally, for a long time. You'll eventually learn that these things are gifts people give you, and when you don't acknowledge those gifts by respecting what you see, or hear, or learn about a person in those moments, you forfeit your right to them. For years to come, I expect my name to escape your lips with only venom, regardless of the love I've tried to give you, all the times I've had to remind you to eat, all the rides to work, the many days caring for your pets while you went on days-long trips to visit friends, or meals we've shared. Those gestures didn't mean enough to you to return them with kindness, or acceptance of house rules, or even a vague understanding that I'm trying to build my home with love and light, and maybe you should just take what's offered and leave it at that. So you'll insult me, and tell my family how awful I am, and call me names to all your friends, and describe your time here as truly awful.

And I've come to accept this. Because you don't know how the disruption in my home might have cost me my job, my livelihood, my ability to feed my family and have a roof over my head. You don't know how your negativity and constant complaining and foul language soured my relationship with my life partner for a time. You don't know how close I came to the worst depression in a decade because I felt in over my head trying to make our arrangement work for both of us and wanting to avoid conflict. You don't know the emotional sacrifices I made, knowingly and otherwise, to accommodate you.

You don't know because it's not your business; those decisions were mine to make. I'm not writing this to call you to account for them, but to remind myself that they occurred, and to make an honest ledger of what I've been through. I maintain that whatever I paid to make this work, it was worth the trouble, worth the love, worth the effort. I hope that your time in my home has made a difference, and if it doesn't, that's not on me. If your three months here has done you no good, you've wasted three months of your life. Either way, it's now time for me to reclaim what's mine as just my own, because you have shown no interest or ability to make our arrangement mutually beneficial.

So it's over. You have to go. I'm truly sorry, but... go get better on someone else's time. No, being sorry doesn't mean you can stay; it means I acknowledge that this sucks for you. Nor does it mean that I claim responsibility for all the stress you're about to endure. Every single moment of anger or frustration or fear you feel between now and the second you walk into your next residence is entirely your own doing. How many times did I say to you "If [situation] continues, this isn't going to work"? How many circular arguments did I step out of because you were unwilling to discuss the one issue I brought to your attention? How many times did I state a simple expectation, and then you agreed to it, and then you didn't meet it, and then, rather then acknowledging that failure, you'd make excuses? How many times did you scream at me in my own house because you didn't get your way? How many times did my unwilling to change the way I live cause you to be nasty to me? How many times did you insult me in front of my own child? In my own home? All because you were unwilling to simply live under my roof by my simple rules? 

Consider it. I'd ask you to try seeing it from my perspective, but I don't know any more whether that's something you're capable of. Again, I'm not holding this against you; you aren't ready for true empathy yet. You have a lot of work to do, and I hope you do it. You're brilliant, ferociously intelligent, beautifully talented. You've been given many gifts that can change your life, and can be used to change the lives of others for the better. You have a real destiny and purpose in this world and you're so blinded by rage and fear and confusion you won't let a single soul gently pull the wool out from in front of your face. Unfortunately, through this letter, I know I've become the latest in a series of assholes to kick you out, further justification the world is out to get you and (poor little you) now you have even more work to do to keep your head above water. I can't be your stepping stone any longer.

I love you and I wish you well. Maybe I'm totally wrong about how I think you'll react. Maybe you'll say you understand, and you're sorry, and you'll begin looking for something else right away, or perhaps that something is already lined up. That would be great; I sincerely hope I'm wrong about the way you're going to react to this conversation. But in case I'm not, here are all the reasons outlined for you. 

#newintelligentsia

The Intellectual Revolution started with small acts, none of which was likely intended to start a movement.

Like this one: In the old days. retailers routinely used to market with the phrase "buy one get one free" which, with the influence of internet and social media culture, was shortened to "BOGO" for the convenience of the acronym. It wasn't long before someone pointed out that "buy one, get one" was outright silly. Of course paying for one thing ought to get you one thing; what the retailers were really saying was "buy one, get TWO", so stores tripped all over themselves to start advertising BOGT sales. Once someone coined the pronunciation "baw-G-t" as a variation on "bought" with a hard G sound, anyone using BOGO was quickly dismissed as ignorant and unworthy of consumer dollars. Acts like this were fun, and became more popular, and took on a life of their own.

Thus began the Great Enlightening. A handful of years ago, people decided they wanted to elevate themselves: read more, eliminate mindless TV, use bigger words, learn Calculus for fun. Of course many took a few public steps in this direction, like proclaiming their new Duo-lingo accounts (complete with a few choice words in a new language) or sharing screenshots of their fitness apps giving them a virtual high five. The whole world, it seemed, was on a self-improvement kick of epic size.

While many actually did this work, finding themselves suddenly able to run an 8 minute mile or sit through Pride and Prejudice for the first time since it was assigned in ninth grade, there was a much larger population that started in earnest, but whose efforts eventually flopped. But by then the damage was done: after a hard day's work faking enlightenment, those who would privately sit and endlessly scroll through their social media accounts found their feeds populated more and more by #newintelligentsia posts.

That's how it all started. Over time, and without many people noticing, culture adjusted. Reality TV shows disappeared, first one at a time, then en masse, replaced with shows hosting book clubs and academic debates. Snack cakes went away after declines in sales as sugar addiction awareness became common. Grocery stores expanded their fresh produce sections and "farm to table" stands began popping up even in urban centers. Math clubs started popping up off university campuses, and the Hodge Conjecture was solved by a 14 year old girl named Eshe Fajah.

As everyone got 'better', it became a competition, as do all things humans do. This fed the frenzy. Yoga studios once relegated fitness freaks and spiritual nut jobs became as popular as dollar stores, and abandoned their paid membership structure for a drop-in business model. Nutritional awareness became the norm, and even closeted slackers got healthier in spite of themselves. Even religion got a makeover: the King James, NIV, and other "modern" versions of the Bible were all tossed as ignorant tripe, and large editions of the full apocrypha were being published without translation. Forced to learn Hebrew, ancient Greek, and the like in order to worship, a new generation of religious scholars was born.

It's been a nice decade or two of human development. And here we are today, when the US Congress announced that all future laws adopted by the legislature will be written and debated in Latin. This was to appease the general public, which took up the cause of a social media poster who created alternate versions of the Constitution and Declaration of Independence, still on yellowed, aging parchment, still in slanted, handwritten calligraphy, but in the major classical languages of the world: Latin, Greek, Hebrew, old Germanic, etc.

A Rant

The older I get, and the more times I repeat the cycle, the more it becomes clear that having a good life means ONE THING about 89% of the time: getting your head out of your ass.

Not enough sleep? Turn off the TV and put your phone away at bedtime. Don't like how you look? Get some exercise and stop eating crap. Hate your job? Go get a new one, or maybe get that schooling you need for a better position. Not enough time for what's important? Delete your social media apps from your phone and see what happens.

If your house is dirty, sitting around complaining about it won't make it clean. Do the dishes, sweep the floors, scrub that mold out of your shower stall. It's hard work, but you already know nothing else will fix it, it doesn't all have to be done at once, and when you're done you'll feel better. Life is the same way.

Yes, SOMETIMES YOU NEED HELP. Nobody can do everything alone. Maturity is about learning your limits and the balance between independence and stubbornness. The difference is about what pushes you toward, or keep you from, your goals.

Ultimately, you aren't a victim of society or at the whim of fate; YOU are your biggest obstacle. Take charge of your life and build something, for yourself and those you love. Nobody else is going to sort out your shit because they're all on their own journeys.

Don't begrudge someone else's success; someone (usually them) has worked hard to get that. If you want to enjoy the same things they have, you have to do the same work.

[unfinished]

Unsolicited Unnouncement

This unsolicited announcement is brought to you by my absolute need to LIVE and LOVE UNAPOLOGETICALLY and without the approval of others. I have busted my ass the last several years to find out what happiness means and pursue it. I struggled to adjust to circumstances beyond my control, repeating the Serenity Prayer to myself nightly like a chant. I went to a therapist for years to sort my differences with others and get a weekly sanity check on what I thought was healthy and reasonable. I attended support groups and coaching. And I forged a better, stronger, deeper version of myself, something on the life path I believe I need to travel, instead of what had been chosen for me by others or the roads I'd taken haphazardly of my own volition just to keep the people around me happy.

I sincerely tried to work with what I had. I put faith in unconditional love. I put faith in acceptance. I haven't been perfect, after all. I just wanted to feel better about myself, as if my life had purpose, that I was in control of my own happiness. I wanted to rely on the people around me for reassurance as I grew, but I had to move on without it. I made the most painful, difficult decision of my life in a basement on July 10, 2014, and my family will live with the consequences of a string of decisions made since that day for the rest of their lives.

I didn't want all that; I just wanted to not go slowly insane over the years. I wanted happiness.

In the 5 years since, I've rebuilt. I have actively tried to maintain family connections while still protecting my dignity; it hasn't always worked. I grew a friendship into a loving partnership. I have taken steps in my career and other aspects of my life my old fears never would have allowed, and I've prospered. I finally know myself, and the people around have finally had a chance to meet that man, too. Now, they get to know me for who I am, not the person I was pretending to be in order to hide the pain and confusion I felt about my daily existence.

I have finally taken full ownership of my life.

Still, not everyone is on board. Old wounds won't heal if you continually tear off the scabs and refuse to take responsibility for your own, feelings, and pain, and life... your own Self. And in spite of my new strength and growth, I am reminded a few times a year by a select few people that my own gains are still fragile. It is hurtful, and it is sobering. These reminders come in the form of harsh words and disappointment and accusations that were born many years ago. They tear away at newly grown confidence and barely hardened resolve at my new direction in life. They erode the soil under new roots critical to my future. The accusatory voice of a child is still one of the most painful sounds in the world.

So here's the announcement: I don't care whether you approve of what I've done. I don't care if you agree with my path to happiness. I acknowledge that I've hurt you, and I apologize. But we both know we'll be in each other's lives forever, and I will love you until I die. If I must love you from a distance because you refuse to accept me as-is, so be it. You have stomped your foot to prove independence over and over, but still come back for help when the people who haven't yet figured their lives out are too enmeshed with their BS to be capable of giving you what you need. If you don't like what I feel I must do to protect myself, you won't get what you're asking for. I want to help you, and it hurts me that you refuse to let me in a way I know how, but I won't take the blame for your situation afterward. It's true we will each have to give a little to grow trust, and I'm on board with that, but we have to move together, on both our terms, or I don't move at all.

SCWA

Through the Veil

Image credit: David Meriwether Knapp

This week, I had a discussion with my teenage daughter.

The discussion started with an apology. It wasn't the first one I gave her for helping create a situation whereby a custody schedule is required. As usual, I also went a little into my own feelings about it all. There will, undoubtedly, be more apologies. We both know it sucks, and after this long, we both acknowledge it was necessary. That's when she told me she could finally see me.

She meant since my divorce, since moving out and doing some single parenting. She meant it the way Neytiri does in Avatar. She also told me she has basically no memories of me pre-divorce, which is disturbing. It's reminiscent of my own teenage experience of having almost no memories of my own childhood until I moved out to attend school at age 16. I was out of my parents' hectic, dysfunctional household and away from their marriage. That was a huge milestone in my life. I'm now wondering how my own children will remember this... do remember this.

Knowing that my daughter is appreciating our relationship more, despite the unfortunate reason, is a tender reminder of my own experience learning to live with a terrible reality: finally 'meeting' my dad  after his cancer diagnosis. Forced to quit drinking and cigarettes to accommodate his chemo- and radiation therapies, I'd sit with him and finally see this man who'd been my father 30+ years without the veil of addiction. He was still crude and inappropriate, but he was also funny and interesting. He smiled in a more genuine way than I remembered before. He emoted not just drunken anger and affection, but deep love.

I wonder now what my daughter sees in me. What veil separated us before? It's hard to describe to her, or anyone really, how I contorted myself into a person I thought my wife (and her family, my coworkers, my neighbors, etc.) would approve of. It's hard for me to understand how such an effort disfigured my interactions with my family and my children, but it's obvious it did. Now, the masks are off, and I wonder who else sees me differently.

Looking back on all this creates a lot of regrets, but I can't afford that. I did my best with what I had at the time. I adjusted to my reality the only way I knew how. It's all any of us do, every day. I know I'm living more honestly than I ever have, though I've discovered that living "unapologetically" requires a lot of lessons I haven't yet learned. Fortunately, there is time yet to learn them, and I have people who love me enough to wait.

Picking Up Where I Left Off

Well, it's been a while. Where were we?

Once again, I'm resolving to write again. I know well what happens when I don't, but I've done an amazing job at rationalizing myself right out of some aspects of maintaining my states of well being.

Mentally, I've been sort of stagnant. I haven't advanced my education in too long. I hit a milestone and stopped, although I do have to credit myself with the professional advancement that resulted and the subsequent learning curve I'm still ascending in my new duties. That said, I am not yet satisfied with my schooling and have to do work on this.

Physically, I have begun to understand how to master this aspect of self care. I went through a long period of eating right and working out, changing my body in nice ways, but more importantly, completely changing my body image in ways most men probably experience twenty years before I did. More on this later, probably.

Spiritual self care has never been my strong suit. I can't claim any major steps forward here in the last couple years, but I haven't gone backwards. I think I've expanded my means for doing this right, so that's progress. Now, it's a matter of practice and building a habit.

Emotional self care has been the main focus of the last 2-3 years. I divorced, and mourned the end of my marriage and that life I had for so long. I began to rebuild, with a new place to live, a new way to parent, and a new life created not just from the best of those broken pieces of my married Self, but new components that never would have fit before. I speak and act freely, and think long and hard about any limits another person would put on my life. Of course I know full well relationships with other humans require some kind of implied agreement that includes boundaries, and I've chosen to include in my new life only those humans that complement the boundaries I set for myself.

So where am I? Still exploring, still searching. In some ways, I've come full circle: made big changes only to find that what I did differently had nothing to do with that aspect of my life. In others, I don't recognice the person I was five years ago. This has required sacrifice, one in particular that has hurt me deeply. I can't say it was worth it, either way. It's just unfortunate. I'm still holding out hope for reconciliation.

In general, I tell people who ask that I'm happier than I've been in ten years. I've been saying it for two years and it's true every time. I know nothing is permanent, and there's always work to do, but I feel more ready and equipped to build a life of happiness than I ever have before. For the first time as an adult, I really feel like the hard work of Living will finally yield the reward of Life.

CAP

16 January 2014

Issues identified so far:

1. I really enjoyed my time on Tuesday nights with the boys, especially with Ax because of the problems we've had getting along. I enjoyed the laughing and sharing in the car, letting him drive and showing him trust. I enjoyed watching them both with the unit and the other cadets. I was looking forward to not only many Tuesday nights together, but possibly other activities, including maybe even encampment. Given how difficult the relationship has been with Ax, and the tense environment at home, I was not just looking forward to this connection, but relying on it.

2. I'm worried that Ax is a quitter. He recently left the swim/dive team, too. He does the minimum amount necessary in each class, with a few notable exceptions. He has no drive to succeed. This is a critical time in his young life, as the next few years will determine his options for the following 10+, so naturally I'm worried that his apathy for life now will doom the rest of it to not only limited options, but cap his belief in himself and what he's capable of achieving.

3. I wanted both boys to be able to see me in a new light. My past experience in CAP put me in a unique position to show them and others some of the things I'm able to do, and use talents that have gone un- or underutilized in 15 years. I wanted to demonstrate things to my boys that would never have shown up in family life. I wanted a chance to show them that I'm not just the guy pushing them to get their homework done or take a shower or get to bed on time or put the garbage out, but I'm also a guy with real interests and talents, I'm an interesting and worthwhile man, and I'm worth their interest and time and attention. I get so little of that when I'm just being the dad who pushes them not to slack around the house all day.

4. CAP was the only outlet I had at Ax's and Bx's ages, and beyond, to deal with the shit going on at home. CAP was the only place I could go where the expectations were clear on both sides, and if I couldn't meet them for one reason or another, I wasn't shamed, I was helped. I know there's shit going on in our house that both boys are struggling with, whether they know it or not, and I'm worried that they could be missing out on not only the amazing opportunities CAP has to offer, but a valuable outlet from which to escape the chaos of our house and the marriage. Maybe I should ask if Ax would be more wiling to join if I didn't, or if I joined another unit.

5. On joining again myself, without the boys: I've already been accused, rightfully so in some respects, of starting to separate myself from the family by doing things without/away from them. I don't want CAP to become yet another way to distance myself, yet I know it could be very good for me. This particular conflict is unique because it's the only one identified so far that has nothing to do with the boys.

It Comes Back

[Fall-ish 2015]

It comes back
Those nights when you're leaving
   Sobbing
Because he won't change his mind about the divorce
But he spent nights the last ten years crying over rejection

It comes back
The frustration you feel because now you're stuck on a tiny budget
And have to live on support payments and part time pay
Was felt every time he saw your Starbucks card auto reload
Even when the checking account was empty

Was every transfer from the savings account
To cover the cost of gas
Incurred because you wanted to drive
Half a mile down the road
Instead of just putting the kids on the fucking school bus?

Work Stuff

16 April 2016

Today, when she gave me my merit increase letter for the year, KZ told me if I'm unhappy with my salary, I should complain to someone who cares, because she doesn't.

Her tone wasn't malicious, but rather exhausted. I get that she has a lot going on right now: with work, with family...but who doesn't? Or, to give the benefit of the doubt, maybe her stuff isn't routine, but she knows damn well I have some non-routine stuff happening too. I don't use my stuff as an excuse to sound snotty or sarcastic, and neither should she.

She also made at least two vague references to things I should think about, including one specific to a scenario in which I seek employment elsewhere. KZ and I have a history with these kinds of wink/nod conversations, but I'm not sure today's were meant to compliment my ability to understand, as they usually are. Rather, I interpreted them as passive aggressive hints that she's losing patience with how I operate within the group, or handle my career, or something along those lines.

To give credit where it's due, KZ did tell me she tried to give me a better raise, but wasn't allowed to. I get that she's frustrated, but I'm the wrong person to take that out on. If she's setting herself up defensively in case I'm upset by that, that's not my issue.

I really don't feel like I have an ally in her much anymore.

A Letter to My Son II

15 February 2016

A Letter to My Son II

Dear Bx,

First, happy birthday. As I told you this morning, you're an extraordinary human being. I'm proud to call you my son and I consider myself lucky every day. I am excited to meet the man you'll become, and watch as you grow into that person. I look forward to sharing your adult life with you as much as I've enjoyed every happy moment we've had so far.

I know we're having differences right now. When you were born, as you grew up from a chubby, determined toddler into an athletic and intellectual whiz, when you beat me over and over in both real sports and video games, all those nights I held you when you were sick, or read to you even after you were asleep, I never once imagined that on your 16th birthday we'd live in different places or be struggling with the issues we now face. This hurts me all the way to the core of my soul; I can never be complete until I've made things right with you.

By now, you've figured out I'm not perfect. I made mistakes that put us in this situation and I can't take them back. Some of those actions weren't mistakes when they happened, and some that might have been mistakes back then don't seem so in hindsight. The point is I will never get it exactly right; I'm just doing my best every day and it's always been because I love you. All of you, mom included.

I'd like to say you'll understand this when you're a man yourself, but by then you will have created your own life with your own collection of mistakes and successes, and your perspective will mean a thousand times more than anything I ever said. I guess that's the tragedy of the generations: we can never really learn from each other. But I do hope you'll believe me, even though you lack this experience now. I have never done anything I didn't believe was the right thing to do for one reason or another. Most of the time, I'm the only one who knows what those reasons are. I don't think that will ever change; that's just the kind of man I am. I sincerely regret if that's made things hard on you/us.

I want our relationship to heal. I want to be able to spend time with you, have you come over and feel comfortable in my home. Which can also be your home, if you give it a chance. Or three. Because it might take more than one. I know you're hurt and you've been angry with me. You don't like all my rules and expectations. You don't like how you've been treated. Some of that will never change, but I hope you'll accept me and love me as your dad anyway. I want you to feel respected and loved, and I'm doing a lot of work to get better at that job, expecially with you.

I'm sure you know this about us: you and I have always struggled to understand each other. Even when you were a baby, I'd get home from work and you'd start crying. It hurt me even then, both because it happened in the first place and because I had no idea how to fix it. As a toddler and little boy, you struggled with rules or when I told you to do something. You tested me and pushed me. You were harder to love than Ax (Sx wasn't around then), so I had to work harder to do it.

That's why I volunteered as assistant coach for your flag football teams and tried to spend more time throwing a ball with you or biking or encouraging you. It's why I invited you to play softball with me and why I always tried to say yes whenever you asked if I could play PS3, even when I would have said no to everyone else.

I had to change how I approached being your dad, and when I did that I discovered you were an even greater treasure than I'd realized, and I felt that my relationship with you was worth even more than the ones that were easy to maintain. It needed more cultivation and therefore grew into something more beautiful. I loved you more than I had before, and in ways that were different than with anyone else; I was your dad in a different way than I was anyone else's dad.

I still think that's all true, so I'm willing to do that work again to change my approach. I'll do whatever I have to do to save our relationship. If we can't go back to that, let's start to understand each other and move forward into something new. Being a father is the most important thing I've ever done, and I'll fight until the day I die to do it right. My dad did that for me, too, when I rejected him. Did you know that happened? It was right about the time I was 16 myself. I wasted a lot of days blaming him for how messed up our family was, even though (I didn't know this at the time) he was only doing his best, too. He didn't have the emotional skills to approach me, and if he tried, I missed it, probably because I was so, so angry at him. I can never have those days back again. I am determined to not to repeat this mistake with you. I'm begging you to join me in making this right.

Sick

25 May 2016

I got sick last night. It kept me up late, so I slept in and had to call into work half a day, partly to get rest I needed but also because of residual sickness.

I'm still not completely well. The toxins in my body haven't all been evacuated. I just got in and I'm quiet, reclusive, sluggish, reluctant. Coworkers will notice and hopefully give me a wide berth. They won't ask what happened; they know only I was ill, and that's enough for them.

And that's enough for me. Except they probably think I ate something bad and spent half the night on the toilet shitting my guts out, emptying my ravaged bowels to exhaustion, enduring cramps or sharp pains or some other agony. Somehow, it's acceptable to call in sick and be given extra space when that happens to you. When that happens to your body.

But that isn't what happened. My sickness was emotional. Replace every physical symptom of the story above and the rest of it is completely accurate. I was goaded into an emotional place I haven't been in many months. I was baited into reacting to a taunt, and I bit hard. I didn't just swallow the bait, I chewed all the way up the line.

In my mind, I wasn't lashing out. Instead, I was refusing to sit idly by--again--while someone who was hurt had a public tantrum and implicated me as the bad guy. I was just done not responding; I was standing up for myself. I still feel like that was the right attitude. Clearly, however, I need to work on my execution.

We made a little mess, I'll tell you that. And I paid a price that has already included half a day's productivity at work, and will probably also cost me three late assignments. There's a lot of work to do and the stress of it all only adds to the pile of how I feel. When I stand in this place, my perspective changes, and suddenly standing up for myself 12 hours ago seems like the most foolish thing I could have done.

The worst part of all this is it's 100% my fault. What happened to me, I mean. I am explicitly separating myself from the actions of the taunters; they are separate human beings and may, for all I know, be dealing with their own consequences today. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that I saw a situation created by other people, went to my emotional medicine cabinet, picked something super potent and super toxic, and swallowed it whole without reflection.

I keep a well-stocked emotional medicine cabinet, by the way. I'm always prepared to self-medicate when certain kinds of stress hit. This is part of my addiction and it must be seen to.

So here we are: I'm half a day behind in my work, I'll be a whole day behind with my class, and emotionally I am still fighting the battle. Another field of conflict awaits me about 7 hours from now. By then, my best hope is to be too exhausted from trying to catch up in the ways I know how to get more involved with or behind in the ways I don't.

SCWA

The REAL Reason

Written 24 April 2015

I was challenged by my (then) wife about the "real reason" I wanted a divorce. I realized years ago it did no good to respond to these accusations with honesty, as honest answers are complicated, take a lot of time, and usually weren't listened to/believed anyway. So I wrote this in response for my own edification/exploration
* * * * *
The real reason is that I am a flawed and broken person. There are so many things I have failed at, so many things I want (especially from you) that I don't know how to get, so much I've screwed up, so many times I've hurt people, especially you... And this has been unacceptable. You haven't approved of who I am in all these years. Sure, you tell me how attractive I am and how much you love me, but when it matters most, when I am at my lowest, you don't want me the way I am really am, you would rather have a version of me that will never exist. Not that I haven't struggled and beat myself up our entire marriage to become that man... But I never will. And what I've learned over 20 years of trying is that I am okay the way I am. But you won't take me this way, and it's unfair and unreasonable for me to expect you to change, and you really do deserve that man you've been looking for (regrettably, in me) all these years. And that is the real reason.

On Bullies

Written 21 August 2015, in response to a friend's Facebook video posting. I love this man dearly, but he's a tough guy: from a rough neighborhood, minority, now a United States Marine. I know the culture that teaches the best way for someone downtrodden is to get tough and push their way out, but it's not always that answer. I did not post this response to his video, but I wouldn't hesitate to tell him this over a beer in his Bronx neighborhood.

* * * * *

Its not this simple, and it never will be. If you've never been bullied, you can't possibly know this. Bullying is about abuse of power, plain and simple. Bullying is not ever going to be solved by making some kids tougher, because for bullied kids it's not only about size or strength. It's also about confidence and what they believe themselves capable of. For kids, both those factors have a lot to do with family and social environment. I knew plenty of kids who were capable of flattening their bullies with one swipe, but for them, power wasn't about size. I knew other kids who were scrawny the bullies never once would have considered picking on because of that kid's projected self image. If you simply make every kid able to defend him/herself without addressing the issues of power abuse, you will just make more bullies who can do more damage.

Sometimes

Sometimes
I glance out the window of my mind and see
Poetry
Love
Beauty
Tears

Grandmother's Eulogy

19 May 2013

Good morning. I'd like to tell you about my Grama, Minnie Mae Hobgood.

Whether you called her Friend, Sister, Mother, Aunt Minnie, Grama Hobgood, or any of those things with a Great- (or Great-Great) in front of them, everyone here knows what a special lady she was in her lifetime.

To me, she was Grama. She brought me to church as far back as I can remember. She was an amazing combination of patience and urgency whenever Chuck and I would be talking during sermon and she'd look back at us. Even twenty pews away, she was NOT to be ignored. Like many of us cousins, I practically grew up in her back yard, and I actually believed in the much talked about 'ugly stick' until I was about fourteen. Not to say Grama was a mean lady--she just had so many of us lambs to mind. My most enduring memory of those days are of a woman feared as and rumored to be strict and stern, who did occasionally show it, but was never angry more than a moment, always forgiving, and constantly filled with the kind of love that still forms the core of my religious beliefs, and still cements my faith when it falters.

That's just been my own personal experience, and between 4 siblings, 1 spouse, 7 children, 26 grandchildren, and 65 great grandchildren, it represents literally less than 1% of what kind of person she actually was.

She meant something special to each of us. How many of us have slept in her house because we had nowhere safer to go? How many of us have eaten only because we knew she'd offer freely without judgment? How many of us found love and sanctuary in her care when they were needed most? And then, once we were helped gently back onto our feet, how many people in our own lives have benefited because we were nourished and comforted by her unprejudiced kindness?

She touched so many in such countless ways; the amount of Good she did in this world can never be measured, but I know if God is keeping score, He called home a winner this week.

What I ultimately learned from her is that life is an open system based on love, and it is not self-sustaining. We need to feed into it by taking care of each other, and being responsible for who and what we bring into this sometimes cruel world. Through her example, I learned that the greatest help we can sometimes offer another human being is remaining true to that person we've grown into ourselves, and directing our own lives not away from, but toward those we love. This is how she touched me; this was the gift I received.

What gifts did she give you?

Of course, after a while, I wasn't a very good grandchild. Like everyone eventually does, I became an adult focused on myself: my stuff, my work, and eventually my family. I formed my own bubble and floated away, seemingly having forgotten Grama's lessons. Now I do know that that's how it's supposed to work--of all people, Grama would know this after raising seven children. I know I'm not alone in having drifted away, and I doubt I'm alone in having been reminded by her declining health how important our family bonds are. As we slowly gathered at her bedside, or included her in our prayers, we tried to return the favors of love and kindness we'd all been given for so long. In this way, she gave us one more gift.

If you loved Minnie Mae Hobgood, honor her last gift by continuing her legacy. Continue her work to make the world better through unsolicited acts of kindness. Hold dear the connections you share with those who sit here today to remember her. Today it's easier than ever to send a message or text, or even a simple Facebook poke, just to let others know you're there, and you care about them. Whether blood kin or a friend, Minnie made us all Family through her love. Let's make sure she is always remembered by never letting that go.

Adult Lives

10 July 2014

My whole life, I've watched adults, living their adult lives. Even after I was grown, I watched as adults... not just adults, /other/ adults... did things with their lives I had never imagined I'd do: start businesses, educate themselves, date casually, drink responsibly (and otherwise, without being judged for it), initiate and end intimate relationships, tell uncomfortable truths because they believed in themselves despite their bad decisions, make investments, have disagreements but not fights, express anger without yelling, disapprove of another's actions without disapproving of the person himself, make hard choices with money and live happily anyway. And other healthy adult things.

I had occasionally seen these behaviours on TV, but not often, and with too little information to learn them. Given my literature choices, a select few of these were demonstrated, and of course only under ideal and/or unrealistic circumstances. More often than not, however, with my media influences and adult role models, these commonplace adult actions were completely foreign to me, even as I grew into physical adulthood myself. And as that happened, and my youth (even adult youth) slowly became less and less of an excuse for my irresponsible behaviours and bad habits, I became more and more confused.

(emotional immaturity)

And if you haven't experienced this yourself, let me assure you: being a physically grown yet emotionally immature adult in a healthy (or at least functioning) adult world is terrifying. Going into a coffee shop and watching two people discuss business, I wonder at the idea that neither of them depends on an employer for their livlihood, and how that can not paralyze them with fear. Trying to finish school, I watch as young 20-somethings make their way confidently from class to class to (minimum wage) job to (sometimes their own) homes without trying to pad their daily existence with the approval of other people that so often depends on frivolously spending time and money. Being nerdy made engaging in hobbies like gaming easier, but I wondered how so many young men, some married professionals, could engage in twelve-hour long sessions of anything without somehow alleviating their wives' or girlfriends' (when they had them) disapproval.

[unfinished]

Anniversary Card 2012

12 November 2012

To My Dear Wife,

(Notes)
Today, our 18th wedding anniversary, will very likely come and go just like most of the other 6,500+ days we've been married: we'll go to work and meet our responsibilities to others and try to find time to remember how important each other is.

Every year on our anniversary

We have been through so much together. I have days when I am amazed at our resilience, days when I truly never want to even imagine a life without you, and of course other kinds of days too.

The truth is wherever you and I end up in our lives, w

and that we both have a lot of learning to do about our own selves,

Even after all we've been through, and despite our worst fears, t

(Written)
I am an imperfect husband, and you've always deserved better than I could provide. You've shown a divine grace in your acceptance of my faults and forgiveness of my missteps. I have spent most of my adult life wishing to be the man of your dreams, and I still hope I can get there one day.

I know we have uncertain times ahead, but I believe we can make it. Just like 1 Corinthians says, love is patient, and kind, and other stuff, but in our case it is also stubborn. We have lasted 18 years because parts of each of us refuse to give up. I'm counting on those parts to see us through.

There hasn't been a moment in the last twenty years that I haven't loved you, and no matter what happens there will never be a day for as long as I live that I won't keep loving you with my whole heart and soul.

Eighteen years ago today, we said our vows and lit those candles, and they went out, and we lit them again... and again. We have a bond that can never be broken, no matter what our hearts or heads may say, no matter how far we may grow from one another. You will always be my forever partner.

Depressed Thoughts

• I waste people's time, especially my kids'
• Even if I am good at my job, I don't do it well or fast enough. I fall hopelessly behind and put myself at risk of losing my livelihood despite any job skills I may have.
• Although I like a clean space, the energy required to pick up is too much for the work required
• It doesn't matter if I'm prompt in doing financial and other business because I don't deserve the prosperity that would result

Reflections

"Reflections at Timmys" edited, written 29 March 2014

So now I am near the end of  the first leg of that journey begun so many long months ago. How much has happened since then? How much will happen now? It's not just my education I've been working on.

That, in fact, is the only thing over which I truly feel control. That, and my career, which is directly dependent on my education to a large extent. I know I will finish whatever degree(s) I set out for. I know I will push forward in my profession(s) to eventually get what I think I deserve. It will only be a matter of time and perseverance, and human limitations aside, I have those things in abundance.

The real question is what I am doing with my life--my marriage and my family life. I have allowed these things to become my life. That's how it's supposed to work, right? I chose a life partner; we made a family; that's supposed to be the end of it. But of course it isn't the end of anything.

I had hoped it would at least become a beginning. Indeed, it has, but I am not satisfied with the progress of this life. The early denial of affection in marriage resulted in my bad choices to seek it elsewhere. That destroyed trust never came back on either side, and has crept into every other aspect of the relationship, slowly poisoning not only both of us, but our children.

I know I know the right thing, for now, is to be alone, and heal. I need to rediscover myself, redefine who I am, what kind of man I want to be and what that will take. I can not do this without hurting people I dearly love. TV common sense tells me if they love me, they will also want the best for me, but deep in my broken core, I am too afraid their pain will overcome their love, for they are broken too. And so I am once again paralyzed.

I am not impressed with the man I am. I have lied and been unfaithful. If I am completely truthful, I stand to lose the privilege of watching my children grow up the way I really want to--the way they really need me. I am only now starting to see see the effect my brokenness has had on them; what if, in an effort to heal myself, I inflict on them even more damage? Which decision makes me least selfish: new honesty or continued deceit?

And so I float in this Purgatory, on the edge of a blade, never knowing which side to lean toward, never sure where lies Paradise or Inferno. It is a painful reality to wake up to each morning, to retire to each night. Every smile of my children almost hurts me: they believe in the reality I show them, they rely on it. It breaks my heart to know that reality is laced not with a history of fierce protection and providence, but of desperation and deceit. It tears me to fucking pieces.

And so I am no further forward than I was 20 years ago, except that now I carry the baggage and guilt of the last 20 years on my shoulders. I know I am wiser, but I must dig out that wisdom and sort it from the bitterness I still surely feel. And then apply it to some as yet unmade plan.

Divorce Announcement

Written 10 July 2014.

Last night I told Nx I wanted out of the marriage. We had the talk with the kids. It was shitty.

I am more scared now than I have been at any other time in my life. I know this intellectually, but do not feel it. In fact, I feel like almost nothing's changed; I feel the same as I did every day I woke up unhappy and unresolved about how to change my life. I thought a weight would be off my chest, but I still feel just as burdened as I did yesterday and a hundred days before this.

I also feel guilty, not about Nx but the kids. Sx was devastated, heartbroken. I fear I've ruined her for the rest of her life. I worry, too, about the boys: of course they'll deal with this differently. They didn't really respond appropriately at all, which worries me more than Sx's response. They will have to deal with this, just like they dealt with all the silent bullshit for years before this, but I know (both intellectually and emotionally) that they will be better off after this has settled, and real happiness comes into view. (At least for me.) I also feel guilty about not feeling guilty about Nx.

I have fucked this marriage up, it's true, and it's on me to end it. I have not fucked it up alone: I bear no more or less than 50% responsibility for its slow, agonizing demise. Nx knows this in her heart, but has never accepted that it needed to end. She may never. What I did yesterday was nothing more than pointing to the situation as a whole and calling it what it is, what it has been for a long time.

Today's Facebook status should be: "Looking forward to living without pain."

And to think this all started with a really productive day at work. I had a fire under my ass about unfinished business. (unfinished)

FFF-55 draft: Disappointment

(Written 23 March 2011.)

I made up my mind a long time ago. I resolved to set expectations for myself that were higher than everyone else's. That way, I'd at least satisfy most people, probably impress some, and hardly ever disappoint anyone but myself.

So far, it hasn't really gone as planned. At least, not from what she says.


* * * * *

Overheard

There are times in the life when the soul says, "ET, go home, I don't like it here, it's a terrible squalor nasty place, and I wanna go back to Heaven...I wanna go back to the Garden of Eden, and merge back into the Whole, and  God's eternal grace." But I can only have that I if I die, but I wanna live, so I choose not to do that. At that point we begin to look for something in this world of reality to take the place of connecting with GOD.

Reboot

(Written 17 October 2011. Notes to myself from the trenches. Time to publish.)

Now you're being punished. Now you have to finally be a good man.

What makes a good man:

A married man honors his vows.

A father protects and provides for his children.

But before and after than,
 - a good man is strong enough to protect the weak
 - a good man develops himself equally for its own sake and also to provide for the people he loves

What are a man's responsibilities to himself alone?

Be honest with yourself. Speak your mind and ask for what you want. Expect what is reasonable. Express opinions and make a difference. If ashamed of something, decide why, and either abandon that behaviour or embrace it.

Be tactfully honest with others. Be the guy everyone can count on for the truth, and from whom it will come gently, even if it's harsh.

Do not remain in a situation that is unhealthy. Determine what needs to be done and see to it, or speak out as to why it's unhealthy and make an exit.

A good man makes mistakes and then admits them. A good man does not hold others' mistakes against them.

Steps:
 - find and attend a 12 step group at least once a month.
 - speak to Rev. Kxxxxxn regularly
 - journal and write at least every other day
 - run, walk, or bike 30 minutes a day
 - focus on Nxxxxx and the marriage. Spend some time with her every day. Journal it.
 - try to stay positive. HALT when necessary. Do not dwell on the negative, but do not forget it. Laugh every day.
 - get more, closer male friends
 - share writing with Nancy to better expose the other side

Development:

MENTAL: Stay in school. Get good at your job. Read and act and think critically to stay mentally fit.
SPIRITUAL: Find God. Again.
PHYSICAL: Become strong. Use physical development as an outlet to frustration, and as a medium to concentration. Try to get off the hypertension meds.
EMOTIONAL: Solidify. Pay the bills, mind the business. Stay on top of your depression. Then reevaluate.

Because THIS, the guilt, and humility, is only temporary, but these are the only feelings that hard-focus on what is wrong, and what needs to be done.

But I am already a good man. But I am a flawed man. Who isn't flawed? Nobody, but few are flawed in the ways you've become, and these ways hurt those around you. That is unacceptable. But my flaws don't negate the ways in which I've stayed a good man? No, they will be your anchors, and your refuge when necessary. These are the places you will go when in doubt. When in doubt.

55: Days and Nights

(Written 14 December 2012. Time to publish.)

There are days
I can’t see it coming,
Days of laughter and smiles.

There are nights
I wonder why it’s taking so long,
Nights of tight-clenched teeth and hushed arguments.

And the times in between
I just don’t know what’s happening.
Maybe nothing. Maybe that’s why it needs to end.

But what if I’m wrong?

* * * * *
FFF-55 Vol. XLVIII.

Christmas Tree 2014

(Written 8 December 2014. Time to publish.)

7 Dec 2014: "I had a really nice time picking out a tree with you today. We are a really good couple. Please don't throw everything away. I love you and want to have our marriage work."

Well, I love you too, and would prefer if our marriage worked as well. Unfortunately, it doesn't. You'll accuse me of looking to the past for justification, and rightly so. But in addition to being aware of our struggles six months ago or six years ago, I am also thinking of the past week, the past month, or sometimes even yesterday. What's taken me so long to reach this conclusion is the realization that all that arguing, all that conflict, is connected, and evidence that our marriage is broken, and every effort we've made to repair it has failed.

Our experience yesterday picking out a Christmas tree does not represent a potential for resolution of all those years of conflict. It does not show a glimmer of hope beneath years of dysfunction. It holds no answers to our inability to see eye to eye on financial issues, or form a sexual bond. However, I won't deny it was a positive experience. It does (to me) represent the very best we can be: friends and coparents. No part of the Christmas tree experience crossed a line of conflict or touched a point of sensitivity. It did not require an intimacy we've never had, or a major decision regarding our children or money. In this way, I definitely agree with you: I also had a really nice time picking out a tree with you today.

As for "throw[ing] everything away," I am certainly not doing that. I am choosing to live without you, my spouse, and our marriage, true. But I am taking every day of our twenty years with me. I will not discard it. I will remain the father of our children and your partner in raising them. I will, if you're willing, remain your friend, and do things for/with you that friends do together. Maybe we can, after all, enjoy a concert together, but won't it be a relief when it's time to go home and I'm horny and excitable from the show and all you want to do is go to bed? Won't it be freeing to drop all the baggage built up for so long and actually enjoy each other's company without the expectations that have soured our relationship for so long?

That's really what I'm looking forward to most with you: the ability to just be in each other's presence and emotional space without all the defensiveness, the guarding of information for fear of criticism, the sensitivity to the past, and the disapproval. This mistrust has killed our marriage.

So that brings me to question your first statement: we are a really good couple. Why? Because I disagree: We don't touch each other; even before I moved out of our bedroom, while I was still trying to make things work, you didn't lay a hand on me unless we were in public. We argue in the open because it's the most civil arena; arguing in private always breaks down to hurt feelings and accusations. We have little in common when it comes to how we spend our leisure time, what sparks our brains, and how we respond to emotional stimuli. These are just the public aspects of our couplehood. I don't think it necessary to get into detail about differences in our sexual appetites and interests, but this has been the single most challenging part of our marriage, and ultimately what I'm looking forward to changing the most.

Truth

(Written 12/7/14. It's time to publish.)

So here's the long and the short of it: I'm ending my marriage.

The reasons are myriad, convoluted. Here are some of them:

- Sex/Intimacy
- Inability to resolve conflict
- Differences in parenting priorities
- Differences in financial priorities
- Failure to resolve differences after 3+ years of therapy

None of this means I don't love my wife. It's just not that simple. In fact, part of the reason I need to divorce her is because I love her. I need out of the marriage because I can't love her the way she deserves to be loved; I can't give her the love she's earned after a marriage of twenty years. I feel this is two-sided: I no longer think she's capable of giving me the love I deserve or have earned after everything we've been through. For my own part, I have recognized this latter fact over and over again for years, and it's slowly broken my heart. Or perhaps hardened it, but at this point there is no hope for my situation either way.

None of it, in fact, is simple. We have three kids together. I can't imagine a life without seeing them every day, hugging them before bed every night, hearing about their days at school every time we sit down for dinner. Also, I provide the main income for the household and my wife can't make a living on her own salary. I am unsure about the ability for either of us to support a home and shared custody on what I make after it's split between us. Even our dogs complicate this mess. Frankly, this whole thing scares the shit out of me.

Marital Aide

Written 18 October 2013

It hurt, to be sure, but I had to say it. Within seconds, years of waning hope turned into anticipation of months of mutual agony and bitterness. We both knew it was coming, of course, but denial is a powerful marital aide.

Movement is good. When you’re at the south pole, every direction is north.

Some Days

Some days, smiling is hard.

I admit I've let the cracks widen, despite an ongoing fight to keep the depression from squeezing in. I admit I've neglected to take care of myself in ways I know are not just good for me, but critical to daily self-care. I admit that I may not be able to handle this all on my own.

[unfinished]

Worth It

Early 2015

So. Breathe.

Stop worrying about what's happening around you. Stop worrying about what anyone will think. This is about you.

That's what she told me: it's always all about me. How can I trust that sentiment? How can I possibly take care of myself when I always make it about everyone else?

The answer is to find balance. Between taking care of yourself and any/everyone else. And make good choices about who the 'everyone else' is composed of.

I do not need to care for those who don't care for themselves or abuse me, or both. Not the adults anyway. The children will continue to take advantage of me by failing to recognize what's been undertaken toward their care and feeding. That's just part of parenting, or so I'm told. But they are not the issue.

I do not know why I'm worth saving right now.

Anger Management

9 December 2014

So I'm dealing with a lot of shit today. None of which will be gone into for this post.

But one thing that's eating me alive about all this stuff is that I do not have a partner to share the burdens. My wife says she wants to be my partner, but I don't trust her with my vulnerabilities, doubts, weaknesses, or fears. I've been burned too many times when admitting wrongdoing of various degrees of severity to believe even small mistakes will go unpunished by some judgment or disapproval, let alone (what I'd really love to get) with a deeper love and understanding as a result of showing I'm a flawed human being.

This hurts me terribly. (unfinished)