Ohh, just grow up!

I have been a great many things in my life.

A student, an apprentice, a son, a failure, a stepson, a brother, a mechanic, husband, a failure again, a human. Probably a whole bunch more.

I have never been referred to as a “grown up”.

Ever.

There are likely a whole bunch of very good reasons for that. First, I still drive the same car I did in high school (and before). Second, I can’t look at any experience without trying to find the funny in it. I just can’t be serious. Third, I refuse to suck the life out of every experience.

Am I safe with activities? Damn straight. Others’ safety and well being are always at the fore front. Recklessness has no place in my life.

But fun.

Abandon.

Immature laughs.

I’m all over that. Jokes at work, prank calls to my brother, pranks on my ole lady…. That’s me.

I lived decades under the “no fun” rule and resented every second. I’m a grown man now and am in charge of my own and my family’s fun. I’ll be damned if it’s going to be the same fear and shame filled life. My friends and family will have fun when I’m around. Be responsible, have bills paid, go to work, but have blow your hair back fun.

And, why not?

Grown up life isn’t what we were lead to believe.

Born in the 60’s, raised in the 70’s, I learned money was plentiful, responsibility nil. I learned there was no such thing as a lack of a good time.

Life in 2013 tells me more. Money is scarce, jobs are too. We can’t just live it up like they did. But, we can have fun. We can enjoy our existence.

Where am I going with this? I refuse to “grow up” because I see so much potential for funny in this world. If I grow up, I will lose who I was and am.

If I grow up, I’ll become he who disowned me.

I’d rather be me.

Have a laugh, protect who I love. Have my black and white, right and wrong. Be affable and mean. Be serious and silly.

Anything but boring and grown.

I give up

There comes a time when one has to realize one is beaten. That no matter what one does, it will never be right. That there is no winning scenario.

I’ve been a source of disappointment to a family member for decades. I have behaved poorly, made ill advised choices and pretty much let them down every step of the way. This isn’t self pity or being a martyr, just undeniable facts.

We’ve reconciled on occasion when I’ve “towed the line”. When I’ve performed within acceptable limits and conformed to familial guidelines. Conditions were never set forth, but you can be damn sure they were unspoken and extremely prevalent. I always knew there were significant consequences for my behaviours, for my addiction.

I have always known I am replaceable.

The latest round of estrangement has been ongoing for about a year now, maybe a bit longer. On occasion I feel some dumb ass need to make contact, extend an olive branch and just try to open a dialogue.

I must be a closet masocist.

I did this recently. Having found out the person had under gone a surgical procedure I decided to call and express my genuine concern. The call resulted in an extremely uncomfortable conversation with their spouse, who in “unspoken” language made it clear my telephone call was unwelcome. A couple days later I received an email from the “patient” with a summary of the procedure and recovery process. Again, it was what wasn’t in the email that really hit home. Even the fact the email was signed with their Christian and surnames gave it a feel of a form letter sent in a generic manner.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not whining about hurt feelings. I’m not crying about being disowned. I really don’t care about being the pariah of my family.

I am pissed at myself for continually putting myself in the situation to get shot down again. I seem to feel the need to continually punish myself for past horrific actions by seeking recognition today.

That’s not healthy. Not healthy at all.

To say I am at peace with my past, or myself for that matter, would be a blatant lie. I am accepting, however, of the fact that I made horrible decisions with devestating consequences that cannot be undone. I also accept I am no longer that man.

I live a completely different life now. I don’t hurt anyone, I am reliable and dependable, I am kind and generous. I am loving and I am loved. Hell, I’m damn near a delight.

The fact that I have “family” that has disowned me is now irrelevant. The fact that others are influenced to no longer acknowledge me is inconsequential. Those are their issues. Their crosses to bear. My cross is to find a way to stay away from the drama. To not allow myself to become melancholy and make unwelcome contact.

If I’m to continue on the wonderful path I’m on, I have to not only accept myself for who I’m becoming but, accept others for who they never will be. I will live with the consequences of my past, I will grow in a joyous future and I will no longer seek approval from those unable to give it.

I just hope they enjoy the rest of their days in peace, joy and contentment.

I know I will.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Most of us have had our fill of bird, pie and family. With luck, we’ve all recognized parts of our lives we are truly thankful for and expressed that gratitude.

I know I have.

I’ve been thinking about this blog and how to approach the subject. I’m feel reluctant to continue to prattle on about my last few years. That ship has passed and I’ve set sail to a grand new new future.

However.

I just cannot let this moment pass without remembering my last few Thanksgiving days.

Remembering the hunger. Not just the empty stomach, but the empty soul. The empty heart. An existence devoid of joy and hope. I was a corpse that hadn’t laid down.

A bench, a boulevard or a shelter for a bed. A meal every three days. A horrific health concern.

A blur.

To say I’m grateful is an understatement.

Today I am surrounded by people I love and who care about me. I slept in a bed last night and ate a few times today. I have a job and am rebuilding the tool collection I sold for peanuts a year past. My addiction is quite securely in check.

And I think I’m happy.

I know I don’t remember what happy is, but I’m certain this is pretty close. We all have life’s turmoils to endure. Those are the things keeping us grounded. The trials and tribulations shouldn’t prevent happiness. I no longer allow them to influence my state of being.

Again, prattling on.

Today, as with everyday since November 15 last year, I am grateful for the life I’ve been given back. I have been blessed in ways far to numerous for this forum. I attempt to be worthy of them, and often fail.

But I’m always thankful.

Indifference

Indifference, I’m good at it.

As a matter of fact, I excel at it.

Something hurts? “I don’t care”. Someone offends? “Doesn’t bug me”. Someone pulls away? “That’s their issue”.

Truth is, it does bother. It does hurt. For whatever reason, I feel compelled to keep all of this bottled up. Contained. Hidden away from the people who care for me.

The result is generally the same. After months of “I don’t care”, self destructive behaviour emerges and I end up hurting those who mean most to me. It’s a cycle of insanity. A cycle that destroys trust and breaks hearts.

And I don’t know how to end it.

I’ve read a bunch of the “Don’t sweat the little stuff” books and have been able to reduce any difficulty I have to “small stuff”, thus reducing the significance. What that’s allowed me to do is deny the importance of whatever issue to myself.

By trying to protect my loved ones from my deepest secrets, I alienate them and myself. By trying to be strong, I’m exposing my deepest weaknesses.

I tried to contact an estranged family member yesterday. Instead of truthfully and honestly expressing my hurt, I opted for familiar, self destructive behaviour.

I could have, should have said “Kim, I’m hurting right now”. I could have, should have gone to a meeting. I could have, should have called a friend.

I did none of the above.

Instead, I hurt whom I care most for. I was delinquent in my duties as a step-parent. I was trash. I’ll not apologize, apologies are hollow at best. I will endeavour to make an amend…. A change in ways.

If at all possible, I will attempt to ask for help, when I require it.

It seems, I am not able to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. At some point I became human.

I wish to become less….. Indifferent.

Demons

All of a sudden it’s there.

You’re feeling great, well, as good as you know how. Doing your best to enjoy life, knowing you never really have. Still, putting on the face, showing up and participating in all life has to offer.

Then “it” shows.

Asking “just who do you think you are??”. Telling you “you’re just not worth it”.

Depression in all it’s manifestations is horrible and devestating. I can tell myself “I’m taking my meds, I’m seeing my counsellors, I’m diligent with my doctor”, yet the illness overrides me at each pass. The darkness overcomes me.

Little else but time lets it pass.

Let’s get something straight. I’m not afraid of man nor beast, but the overwhelming darkness of the thoughts would spook just about anyone. Thankfully, I’m no longer self destructive, my arms have had enough. And I am extremely grateful to the team of people who have, and are continuing to help me.

It’s just, the voices are still there, the darkness still envelopes me. The unworthiness is ever present.

And I’ve been told to journal about it.

So here it is, my one blog without purpose or message, just a means to exorcise a few demons.

My apologies.