I feel like it would've been remiss not to write this evening. I'd really like to get reading (I'm reading "Excuses Begone"), but something had to be mentioned.
I received an extraordinary e-mail from a friend today, someone who cares deeply about what I'm going through and only wants to see me better. It said this, basically - "Get busy living or get busy dying." It's my choice. And, while the latter may not be approved, it would be respected. But let people know so they can either a) help or b) get out of the way.
I got the e-mail while I was at work and it was a tough read. It was tough because 100% was true, it was emotional, and it nearly made me cry. When it's 2pm and you're trying to get work done, that's not easy. There was also talk about grilled cheese and, God, I love grilled cheese. So it was emotional.
(Btw, I'm watching Star Trek - JJ Abrams - and I always, always get teary at the beginning. It was SO well done.)
Look, I can't promise that things are going to work out, but I can promise that I'm trying (even when it doesn't look like it). I think what's really hung me up (wow, grammar) is that I do have a lot of residual feelings regarding how I grew up, my shitty marriage, my crappy jobs... and I hang onto all of that. And I hang onto all of it because... they seem like good excuses to fail.
Right? If I have excuses to be a failure, then I can't truly disappoint anyone.
The problem is this - I actually haven't disappointed anyone, except for myself. I've always thought of myself as such (a disappointment). Yet, would I ever think of my own son as a disappointment, no matter what happened to him or what he decided to do with his life?
The answer... is a resounding... NO.
My past is the wake of a boat. It's there, but it cannot shift my course. Therefore, I need to steer. I can deal with that wake as I see fit, but it can't steer me.
I entitled this "Lip Service" because I almost feel like that's what I've been doing lately... paying my sobriety lip service. I don't mean to. My emotions have been up and down and I simply can't grip them. But I don't have to... not all at once. I have help if I just ask for it.
And for those wondering, the last piece of the puzzle has been placed. I told the president of my company what I've been fighting. I never thought I'd do that... I've admitted what's going on to my family and to you, my friends. I never thought I'd finally tell my job. You should've seen how caring he was and how much he wanted to help. I left his office thinking, "Why didn't I do this sooner?"
Kirk just got the crap beaten out of him, but he's looking at a model ship and realizing his potential. Time I do the same.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
So Little Time For Such a Long Entry
I will preface this by saying, "If I were you I'd manage to avoid the invitation... of promised love that can't keep up with your adoration..."
I have so many topics to write about, I don't know where to start. (Let's just say they're all dramatic... slight shot at the person who told me these were too dramatic...) I've got weeks' of fodder.
First - I will NOT write, yet, about who or what I let take me down. That's not fair - because that's me, not them, and this will not be the end people who I let into my life. There's an entire line of context that needs to be understood, nearly a year long, and I can't do the emotion justice. Not yet. It will take writing and rewriting, edit upon edit, and still I don't think I could do it justice. I need to, in some way, verbalize how integral this person has been without trying to badmouth. Because there is NO badmouthing here. It was a criss-cross of emotion and heart and... Christ, I can't arrange it all. I don't think it's at an end. It can't be. Although, I did need to let it settle by doing something childish - ignoring it all. And, when it comes down to it, it makes me realize that I've sooooo neglected others in the process. All of those questions about who has truly supported me and how... they've been answered. In spades. They're people who have supported me all of my life, or tried to and didn't quite know how, but they tried! They tried their fucking hearts' out. We were on different pages, but they still tried so, so very hard. It was in plain view, yet I think we were all a little blind. And... that's okay. God, dammit. I realize, that's okay.
Second, happy mothers' day. Again, I'm trying to condense a whole lot. Happy Mother's Day to the mother of my son - the mother who, on day ONE of my recuperation, said Yes to meeting for breakfast so I could see my little one. We only saw each other for an hour, but that wasn't a restriction. It just happened that way. My son was tired at 9am, needed a nap, still had a full day planned, etc. There was no "you have one hour and I'm outta here." That's not the way it went. In fact, in my opinion... it was perfect and brings tears to my eyes. I even saw them again this morning before our commutes. To anyone reading, especially her family, I'm not writing a ton because I don't think she reads this. She will always, always touch my heart.
Just so you know how special you are to me (although you probably won't read this) - I listened to "You Look So Fine" about forty times today. That's been her ringtone to me for four years.
Second, happy mothers' day (no, that's not a mistake). Again, I'm trying to condense a whole lot. Mom, I love you and I could write pages about this, too - and I will. I heard magic words. Words that made me realize, even though I've heard them before, that life does not come with instructions. I KNOW THAT. But I was told that I was, at my own son's age, my mom's best friend. And I finally, finally get that. Because that's how I feel about my son. He is, without any doubt, the best friend I've ever had. When he's 35 and - married, divorced, rich, penniless, struggling, strong, willing to write or wanting to shut-in - he's my son and my best friend. He will never, ever be a disappointment to me and I will always hold in my mind taking him to see Cars 2 or him wanting to watch ABC Trains a hundred, thousand times. It won't change... not in my mind.
To add some context to the image that will stick in my own mind of my son... him sixteen inches long, snuggled on my chest as we both nap, with his mom behind the camera. My favorite picture over any Norman Rockwell.
Third, a thanks to karma. I have NO idea what's going to happen tomorrow morning, but I do know that the worst I expected today was not the worst that happened. The funniest thing is this - two of my most ... I don't know ... most spiritually balanced friends wrote to me when I needed them most. One of them I've reconnected with already and I love her with all of my heart. The second was one who I haven't heard from in months (and months) and I love her with all of my heart. I feel channeled with both and somehow, when I just needed a cosmic kitchen of hope, they wrote to me. The universe amazes me. I used to say "sometimes". No way. It amazes me ALL the time.
That second person, by the way, does more than amaze me... she baffles me. We've barely touched (metaphorically), but she is the reason I'll grab the headphones tight to my ears when something truly profound hits me. She's the reason I toss my head in-time. And, although this sounds awful to those who are reading and don't understand, she's my "Prostitute". There's just so much raw power and stripped emotion behind the song and it's about damage - damage that she made me see in myself. Damage that I've been desperately working on. I used to walk to work and listen to it over and over... thumping in my head, bobbing in tune. "Look for a new beginning on you..."
Fourth, the Phantom Menace sucked the first time. Things don't change when you refilm them in 3D.
I'm going to keep writing tonight and then I'm going to bed... soon. It's not because I'm isolating or doing harm or anything. I've already written several other entries today and I'm wiped - literally. My eyes burn.
I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow morning... or tomorrow night... or next week or year. It simply doesn't matter. What matters is now. I went to work this morning and was turned around because I wasn't medically cleared to be there. I nearly threw-up because of the anxiety. But do you know what made it better? I mean, 100%, unequivocally better?
Listening to a little Gnarls Barkley while remembering my son wiping his nose on my shirt at about 6:17am this morning.
To anyone wondering, I found my true support. I may fall a hundred times over again, but I found my reasons to get right the fuck back up.
I have so many topics to write about, I don't know where to start. (Let's just say they're all dramatic... slight shot at the person who told me these were too dramatic...) I've got weeks' of fodder.
First - I will NOT write, yet, about who or what I let take me down. That's not fair - because that's me, not them, and this will not be the end people who I let into my life. There's an entire line of context that needs to be understood, nearly a year long, and I can't do the emotion justice. Not yet. It will take writing and rewriting, edit upon edit, and still I don't think I could do it justice. I need to, in some way, verbalize how integral this person has been without trying to badmouth. Because there is NO badmouthing here. It was a criss-cross of emotion and heart and... Christ, I can't arrange it all. I don't think it's at an end. It can't be. Although, I did need to let it settle by doing something childish - ignoring it all. And, when it comes down to it, it makes me realize that I've sooooo neglected others in the process. All of those questions about who has truly supported me and how... they've been answered. In spades. They're people who have supported me all of my life, or tried to and didn't quite know how, but they tried! They tried their fucking hearts' out. We were on different pages, but they still tried so, so very hard. It was in plain view, yet I think we were all a little blind. And... that's okay. God, dammit. I realize, that's okay.
Second, happy mothers' day. Again, I'm trying to condense a whole lot. Happy Mother's Day to the mother of my son - the mother who, on day ONE of my recuperation, said Yes to meeting for breakfast so I could see my little one. We only saw each other for an hour, but that wasn't a restriction. It just happened that way. My son was tired at 9am, needed a nap, still had a full day planned, etc. There was no "you have one hour and I'm outta here." That's not the way it went. In fact, in my opinion... it was perfect and brings tears to my eyes. I even saw them again this morning before our commutes. To anyone reading, especially her family, I'm not writing a ton because I don't think she reads this. She will always, always touch my heart.
Just so you know how special you are to me (although you probably won't read this) - I listened to "You Look So Fine" about forty times today. That's been her ringtone to me for four years.
Second, happy mothers' day (no, that's not a mistake). Again, I'm trying to condense a whole lot. Mom, I love you and I could write pages about this, too - and I will. I heard magic words. Words that made me realize, even though I've heard them before, that life does not come with instructions. I KNOW THAT. But I was told that I was, at my own son's age, my mom's best friend. And I finally, finally get that. Because that's how I feel about my son. He is, without any doubt, the best friend I've ever had. When he's 35 and - married, divorced, rich, penniless, struggling, strong, willing to write or wanting to shut-in - he's my son and my best friend. He will never, ever be a disappointment to me and I will always hold in my mind taking him to see Cars 2 or him wanting to watch ABC Trains a hundred, thousand times. It won't change... not in my mind.
To add some context to the image that will stick in my own mind of my son... him sixteen inches long, snuggled on my chest as we both nap, with his mom behind the camera. My favorite picture over any Norman Rockwell.
Third, a thanks to karma. I have NO idea what's going to happen tomorrow morning, but I do know that the worst I expected today was not the worst that happened. The funniest thing is this - two of my most ... I don't know ... most spiritually balanced friends wrote to me when I needed them most. One of them I've reconnected with already and I love her with all of my heart. The second was one who I haven't heard from in months (and months) and I love her with all of my heart. I feel channeled with both and somehow, when I just needed a cosmic kitchen of hope, they wrote to me. The universe amazes me. I used to say "sometimes". No way. It amazes me ALL the time.
That second person, by the way, does more than amaze me... she baffles me. We've barely touched (metaphorically), but she is the reason I'll grab the headphones tight to my ears when something truly profound hits me. She's the reason I toss my head in-time. And, although this sounds awful to those who are reading and don't understand, she's my "Prostitute". There's just so much raw power and stripped emotion behind the song and it's about damage - damage that she made me see in myself. Damage that I've been desperately working on. I used to walk to work and listen to it over and over... thumping in my head, bobbing in tune. "Look for a new beginning on you..."
Fourth, the Phantom Menace sucked the first time. Things don't change when you refilm them in 3D.
I'm going to keep writing tonight and then I'm going to bed... soon. It's not because I'm isolating or doing harm or anything. I've already written several other entries today and I'm wiped - literally. My eyes burn.
I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow morning... or tomorrow night... or next week or year. It simply doesn't matter. What matters is now. I went to work this morning and was turned around because I wasn't medically cleared to be there. I nearly threw-up because of the anxiety. But do you know what made it better? I mean, 100%, unequivocally better?
Listening to a little Gnarls Barkley while remembering my son wiping his nose on my shirt at about 6:17am this morning.
To anyone wondering, I found my true support. I may fall a hundred times over again, but I found my reasons to get right the fuck back up.
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