Joe's Garage

  Frank Zappa.

  Joe's garage.

  If you are unaware of this album.....consider it a blessing. Released in 1979, I didn't became aware of it until a few short years later. Mind you, I was born in 73.

  My mom had married a dufus named Joe. They were married from 83 to 85. So, it was during this stint that I was exposed to the music. I was 10 - 12 years old.

  I'm shaking a little right now. It upsets me and makes me sad that I listened to that album then. Not only did I listen to it, I really dug it. I listened dozens of times. I listened enough to memorize the album!

  The album is on YouTube. I listened to it again last night. I kept wanting to imagine that when I first heard it my young ears hadn't grasped what I was hearing. Alas, I knew what I was hearing. My young mind was filled with visions and thoughts of debauchery. I wanted to meet women who were like the ones I heard about on the album.

  Don't listen to the album! It's dark. It's a thing that I will be haunted by forever.

  Almost simultaneously we found some smutty magazines. My friends and I would laugh and giggle at the images. But Joe's Garage I don't think I shared. It was my private escape.

  I'm not sure if I was allowed to listen to it. It wouldn't have mattered, secrecy and shame had entrenched itself in my life years before.

  I'm not sure what the point of this particular blog is. Sometimes I like to wrap them up with some sort of take away truth. Sometimes I just want to vent. This time I just want to ponder.

  Innocence was taken away early from me. At the time I really enjoyed it. It was fun and exciting. It provided an Avenue to escape on. I wore the tires of my mind out driving that Avenue.

  It was so simple to do. Those nude women pictures captured my thinking and retarded my emotions. Gradually I was becoming an emotional cripple.

  It seemed so fun at the time!

  When I remembered Joe's Garage last night I could only think of how silly the album was. I could remember laughing out loud and knowing that I had discovered something that was forbidden.

  Last night, as the songs played by, I was stunned. Each song led further down a path of sexual idolatry. I knew each song by heart.......still!!!

  I'm not freaking out or anything right now. I found out years ago that I was an emotially broken man whose drugs of choice included objectifying women. I knew that I was exposed to sexual stuff at a super early stage. So, this latest memory only serves to reinforce those facts.

  I do grieve a little for the younger me. He wasn't given a chance to be young and innocent. Sure, he thought it was fun at the time, but it left him utterly bereft of the ability to function. He became an anxious guy who found relief in wholly innapropriate means.

  He grew up to horribly damage those he loved due to his dysfunctional thinking.

  So, screw you Frank Zappa! People thought you were a genius, so did I, but you were really a freak peddling smutty crap that would warp young men's minds. Then again, you provided an escape. Many painful days were escaped by listening to your music. Many more would come because of what I had heard.

    I'm gonna go be a little boy now. Maybe buy a lollipop. That sounds good. Any ideas on where they sell brain brushes? Mine is a little dirty.

Dad's dying 2 - filling in the blanks

  In an amazing turn of events, dad's kidneys have sprung back to life and his cancer is nowhere to be found! His liver is still badly damaged with cirrhosis caused by the Hep C. But, with the new medicines available, the doctors believe they can knock out the Hep C and my dad will be able to recover. His liver will never be fully functional but he will most likely be able to live comfortably. They will check him for cancer again in three months, but for now no traces could be found.

  I'm relieved.

  Last night I went and visited him. He is emaciated and slightly lethargic. But there is hope returning to his eyes. He had been quite distressed for the last few days. He had lost his dignity of life. He was ready to check out.

  It has been an emotional Rollercoaster for me. He and I have begun a process of relating to each other. This last year has had mountain tops of emotional connections as well as disturbing valleys of conflict. I disagree with him on many things, yet I want him to be my dad. I want a father.

  In my last blog I wrote about not having time to do those things I so desired to do with dad. Maybe if I had just sucked it up, looked past the legalistic arguments of my dad, we could have enjoyed each other more. Now that it seems I have more time, now I have choices.

  There are still some boundaries that I need to have in place. There are some topics too toxic to my sobriety to discuss with him. Carefully navigating those things can begin to set the stage for him and I to relate in peace.

  It's a dicey situation.

  It may be anecdotal, but my addictions thrived at times when I was in close proximity to him. If you were to graph out my life you would find that, at the very least, there are correlations between my addictions and my relationship with him. It may even be causation. (But I have to own my own BS, causation doesn't quite work)

  So the battle has shifted. The battle is now about getting as close to him as I can without being damaged in the process. Not an easy task!

  He is such an opinionated, thick headed, masogenistic, hard man. I know I am too, but he is dad, he should be better at being nice than I am!

  I put my arms around him last night and told him how glad I was that he has a chance at living. I told him how sad and broken I was that he might have been dying. I told him that these last few years have been good getting to know him, and that I wanted more. I told him that I loved him deeply.

  He choked up and thanked me. He told me that he loved me.

  I pulled his head over onto my chest and ran my finders thru his hair. I told him I loved him again.

  I hope we have many more moments like that. I hope we can relate. I know we will draw swords and skirmish sometimes, but I hope I can remember how painful it was to realize I might lose him. If I remember, I might be able to be graceful in our heated discussions.

  I'm very grateful to have a second chance.

 

Dad's approaching death

  Just finished a conversation with my stepmother concerning my dad's health. It's not looking good. His liver and kidneys are failing. He doesn't want dialysis. When he is alone he asks God to remove him from this broken body. The end approaches quickly.

  I have no idea how to behave thru this. My emotions are all over the map. I spent the last few days processing forgiveness towards dad. I wish we had been close. I wish I had found forgiveness sooner. Maybe I could have.............. I hope I don't spend a long time trying to fill in that blank.

  The advice on how to behave around him seems good. I should share my sadness, express how my life will change, and don't shy away from difficult discussions about dying.

  Ok, I actually do know how to behave. I know how to be present. I get authenticity. Then why is this so damn hard! Those tools should make things easier! They dont!!!!!

  Recovery tools don't make situations easier, they make them healthy.

  I'm digging in for the approaching waves of regret and loss. I know I will beat my head in emotionally with thoughts of how I could have been a better son sooner. Why did I waste so much time?

  So here we go dear readers. Joshua is about to enter the battleground of yet another painful war. Seems like I just got over being in triage for the last battle. I'm weary. I'm strong. I'm wounded. I'm ready to rumble.

  I'm gonna go be with dad tomorrow afternoon. I can only say that a few more times. Ouch.

Should feel

  I should feel _______ about ________, but I really feel _______.

  That sentence can be powerful. It allows me to place, in a proper context, the struggles I have identifying and relating troubling feelings.

  It's not an original idea that I came up with. I heard about it listening to The Mental Illness Happy Hour. That is quite a show! Enjoy it if you have the means. But be forwarned, reality is ugly and hard and he doesn't shy away from the difficult discussions. It's not a "G" rated show!

  So let's practice filling in the blanks!

  I should feel sad about going into this holiday season single for the first time, but I really feel relieved.

  Ok....that was a softball. Let's get gritty!

  I should feel upset that my dad is fighting cancer and doesn't appear to have much time left to live, however I feel happy that his time of weakness has brought us closer together.

  Immediately I want to fill that last statement with disclaimers, something to take the edge off, but that's the point of this excercise! Part of my struggles in life has been to try and act as tho what I am feeling isn't really so. I was burdening myself trying to figure out the proper feeling to have and it brought untold anxiety into my life. Today I am free to just feel. If the people I share those feelings with are safe people, then I can express my disturbing emotions without fear of being condemned or cast away.

  What then makes someone a safe person? Within the confines of this topic, a safe person is someone who can hear the difficult things yet remain unaffected emotionally. They aren't invested in the controversy.

  I should feel happy for having so many friends who I can be authentic with, but I feel a tinge of grief as I recall how horribly I treated others in the past. I wasn't a safe person.

  So, dig into that first sentence some. I believe it can be a gateway into understanding how our perceptions of other peoples requirements can break our spirits. It freed me up to express the dark stuff.

  I should feel embarrassed about sharing the dark stuff in these blogs, but instead I feel free and often laugh at how disturbing I actually can be.

  Sometimes I prefer to go dark, it gives me the giggles.

 

Alpha Doormats

  Just the title of this post kinda evokes strong feelings, right?

  What the heck is an Alpha Doormat?

  Last night my favorite podcast threw the term out. I identified immediatly. It describes, in two words, something I had been struggling to pin down for years. It mashed together my two personalities.

  How was I able to be so codependent, yet domineering, all at the same? Was being controlled and controlling a large factor in my failures as a man? Why was I unable to listen and empathize whilst feeling unheard and marginalized? 

  I am an Alpha Doormat!

  Without knowing much of any actual thing about this label/title, let me commence with my opinion. (Just cause I don't know anything about a particular subject, that has never limited my ability to have heartfelt and strong opinions about the matter) Go Alphas!

  My childhood was filled with menace. There wasn't much of a place to safely express or hold opinions. My desire was to do everything possible to maintain peace. Massive sacrifices were made to placate my dominant father. He terrified me. I was his doormat.

  This overwhelming urge to have peace, at any cost, spilled over into my adult life. Somewhere I discovered that the battle for peace could be won by dominating the equation. If I could bully you, I wouldn't be walked on. I should be happy then!

  We see this played out on the big stage of life. Total control versus giving in. Military action versus diplomatic relations. Mom versus Dad.

  No matter what side I chose to follow, it was all about me. How to make me comfortable. Make me comfortable and all will be well. But life is rarely comfortable. We scurry from elation to depression. Somehow I convinced myself that I could CONTROL things.

  Control!!!!!!!!!

  That is what is really at the heart of this Alpha Doormat thingy. If I could somehow control people I could be happy.

  Why won't people just obey me? I'm a smart dude. Obey!!!!!

  If I needed to be walked on to gain control, or if I needed to dominate, I would have my control. And it damn near killed me.

  Powerlessness is the solution. Having a power greater than yourself run things helps relieve me of my control issues. If God runs things, I'm cool to fail!

  It's perhaps an oversimplification to just hand it over to a power greater than yourself. Every twist and turn of my deranged mind fights giving it over. I like the power. I like thinking I can change things. I was taught that I could.

  Anyways, I hope this got thru. The Alpha Doormat thing really slapped me silly. I'm gonna bring it up in my upcoming conversations. Maybe I will appear really smart, then I could control the conversation. Then they will obey me.

  Just kidding!!!

Insurance

  Its that time of year again, time to contemplate signing up for insurance. It is open enrollment season for my work! The excitement!

  Getting older has its benefits, who knew that I would be paying for them!

  For the first time in my life I have health insurance! I'm not very happy about getting it. Of course I realize that someday I will be needing it and signing up now makes it easier down the road, but I don't like being forced into buying something by my government. I will pay for it, even if I didn't get it. Somehow someone thinks this is being kind to me. Leave me alone. No really, give me back my money, I know how to use it better than you. Bug off.

  Maybe there could have been an opt out option. Maybe a form that states that I will never use the social services! Don't get me wrong, safety nets are nice, but we have a system of hammocks.

  Whatever.

  I do not much care for the insurance. Guess its a sign of maturity that I'm insured. Maybe its a good thing. Maybe the buttinskis have it right, insurance is good. I like buttoutskis better! Being insured is probably the smart move.

  If I ever get sick and need major medical care, please don't read this post to me! Just smile and show me where to sign for the next government handout, its the fashionable thing to do! If I get sick I never complained about this...ok?

  So, the same government that wages seemingly stupid wars is now requiring my compliance in getting insurance. War mongers running health care. This will end well!

  How did this become a political rant? It's just insurance Josh! Cough up the stupid money, grow up, and go about your life. Why the big deal?!

  It's because I'm a crybaby who doesn't like being told what to do. Also, I live in a country that said it wouldn't impose these things. Those traitors! Boohoo.....waaaahhhh!

  May the fleas from a thousand camels infest their bedroom.

  May I never become sick and have to eat these words. I will just pretend I never wrote them, just like they pretend the constitution..........

  Enough already!  End this dumb post! You're insured....it's good....get on with it.  :)

 

 
 
 

Foggy

  That time of year has come again, the fog! Usually it starts around Ellensburg and doesn't let up until after Moses Lake, but sometimes it extends all the way from Snoqualmie pass clear to Spokane.

  I suppose most don't like the fog. It makes your nerves rattle and your trip harder. I think that's why I like it! I am on high alert. Adrenaline.......oh how I love thee!

  When the fog starts freezing.....now that's when its really fun!

  I'm no sadist. I like driving in nice weather on a sunny day. But if you need to run at night, I prefer to mix it up with rough weather. Makes the drive go by faster. Also, you tend to not get drowsy!

  The freezing fog starts. The wipers start to clog up with ice. The defrost can't keep up. Your face is boiling from heat. All you can see is thru two small holes right above the defrost vents.

  Eventually you give up on the wipers figuring they aren't helping. Turns out they were, but now you can even get the windshield back to what it was mere moments ago.  You roll the window down to try and time the wipers to give them a "slap". That works! Then in a few miles they are clogged again.

  I am totally cut out to drive this truck. I have the perfect mixture of skill and stupidity! I'm just glad that I have this job. Sure I miss out on some things, but I feel blessed to do a job I enjoy.

  Bring it on old man winter!

The Wrestler

  So...here I am

  Within the next two weeks my ex will be remarried. Its frighteningly fast. I am scared for them. Too many recovery relationships get rushed into. They usually end horribly.

  But I am torn. I wrestle with two natures. Part of me wants to rant and rave. I want to dissect the reasons why what they are doing is fraught with peril. My other nature recognizes the redeeming nature of God. I believe God can do a wonderful work thru their marriage.

  So I have been struggling against myself today. Guess what......I won!

  I wrote a blog out that aired a lot of my grievances. I was gonna just post it. Throw it up on the page. I couldn't care less who's toes I stepped on. I am hurt and they should be too. But my group of friends have pointed me into a better path. I can still post that blog, but I need to describe my struggle. I need to demonstrate my belief in grace. I need to show you what I am wrestling with.

  The other blog will appear at the end of these beginning paragraphs. Unedited. Raw. Unnerving.

  I heard someone say, "Its hard to know when to smooth things over or die on the sword of truth". That is precisely my struggle.

  I have the power to curse and bless with the same tongue. I am going to attempt the impossible.....I will do both. It won't be easy. I am perhaps wrong for even trying. Here we go.....

One one hand......
  I don't like this new man in my ex's life. While they are engaged I hope he gets the hives. Maybe he gets struck mute and can't say the " I do". Maybe someone talks some sense into them and they slow down. Going fast into another relationship isn't healthy! Don't make the same mistakes many others have! Its dangerous! Get help now, its not too late!!!!

On the other......
  After the engagement is over, I will be praying for a different thing entirely. I will pray that God can redeem the mistakes that were made. I hope He can repair this rushed job. Maybe their relationship will be incredible. Maybe he will be the right man for the rest of her life. I will hope so.

  You see the two natures.....right?!!

  I don't know how to fix the dichotomy. I'm not sure it should be fixed! At the very least I need balance. Who struggles with this gunk?!! Am I a freak!

  I am so broken. Sure I have four years of sobriety, some great friends, and a good counselor, but I am a wreck! This cauldron of anger at what I perceive to be stubborn ignorance has got to stop. It is no longer my responsibility to guard her. She is free to decide bad things. I am free to express my anger over them.

  Man....I hurt so much over this.

  Someday my daughters may read this blog. Perhaps at that time this man will have been a great influence on them. Maybe he fulfilled something I couldn't. I hope that if they do read this they understand my struggle and aren't hurt at the unkind words. I am angry and this is a medium I express that in.

  However, if he didn't work out, maybe they read the parts where I am being rude and they relate. Maybe I get to play the "told you so" card.

  I'm hedging my bets!

  Just don't let what you read make you think I am always a resentful jerk. I'm only mostly always! Ha!

  Beware of what you will be reading. I purposefully didn't go and edit it. I want it to be authentic. I don't wish for it to hurt anybody. When they marry I hope I am completely wrong in my fears. I would hate to have another marriage fail.

  One more thing. The Bible speaks about marriage as a picture of Christ's love for us. Christ made the largest sacrifice of all to redeem us. I could not imagine dying for the people who curse and deny you. Yet he did.

  When they marry I hope they find that same resolve. May their sins never grow big enough for the other to lose hope. May any bitterness never get a foothold. May they love unconditionally. May theirs be a beautiful marriage. May the love of Christ guide their lives together.

   Now.....strap on a seat belt. I'm mean.....and it shows.

 

**************************************

  There are many reasons I write this blog. Sometimes it is to express milestones, sometimes to express deep feelings, sometimes humor, sometimes nuttiness.....etc.

  I derive great pleasure being able to scroll back and read things I have written before. Some of those things make me cringe! I'm not much of a writer and, if you combine that with my character flaws, I can come off as a complete moron.

  I like being a moron.

  I like giving up pretenses and letting it all hang out. Rawness and reality are awesome places to live. I try and visit often.

  I am beginning this blog with those disclaimers because what I want to write is volatile. Its disruptive. But I feel like I must write!

  Let's start. Make sure you read the ending!!!!!!

  King David

  No, I'm not writing about the old testament King who conquered nations while stealing a soldiers wife, I'm talking about a modern David who stole my wife.

  Come on Josh! That's ridiculous. You screwed up your life and she left you. This man has nothing to do with that. Get over it jerk!

  Yup, I did many horrible things. I will own all of them. So relax, I know the majority of this is my fault, but I will still complain about king Davids part as well.

Dear king David,

  You did it! Congratulations you old rascal! She divorced her husband, while you divorced your wife. Good job!

  A couple of weeks after her divorce was final you proposed. She accepted! Awesome!

  Two months after her divorce you will be married. Shut my mouth! You are so great at this!

...................Too far yet?...................nah, I'm just getting started.............

Last year you spent Christmas with YOUR wife and kids. January you announce the divorce. Its October and you are remarrying! Way to be! You get a new family this Christmas, its a Christmas miracle!

  Dude, if you had romantic notions about MY wife before YOUR divorce.....slap my knee.....that's spectacular!

  Enough joking

  Listen king David, you and I know some of the same people. They know how you treated your wife. You are a strong armed bully. You won't be able to pretend forever. The fact is that you pushed MY wife to divorce fast, get engaged fast, and marry fast. Fast and recovery don't mix well. They don't mix at all. You are a bully for rushing things.

  I know of no credible recovery group that would sanction what you are doing. The most prevalent group (Divorce Care) makes this especially clear. You are choosing to refuse sound counsel and go it alone.

  You may feel that your recovery group is sanctioning your relationship and that makes it ok. The group you have at your church was started by pushing out an established recovery group. You spearheaded that effort. I was part of that group. You formed a coup and kicked us out. You bullied a dear friend of mine into giving up our meeting time. I propose that your recovery group has its own issues, starting with how it started.

  I know the feelings you have. You thought you would be unlovable and that life was passing you by. Then you spotted a beauty. A broken beauty. Who wouldn't want to help? You would be cruel if you didn't. But, she wasn't your beauty. You were wrong to even talk with her. Men shouldn't try and help wounded beauties. They end up in adultery. If you had any "thoughts" about MY wife before her divorce....its adultery you are doing. Its not divorce and remarriage.

  You started dating her before all this took place. Didn't you? At the very least, you flirted and got cozy. Right?

  So, you are playing a good hand. You see the other players and know what the next move is. You saw the weakness of my hand and raised. She was impressed and figured you could be her hero.

  But you are a conman. You have them all bamboozled. When I discovered what you were up to it resonated with me. I was just like you.

  You weren't sent by God to her. You are not a good man. You aren't even honorable enough to admit to influencing her decision to divorce!

  I hurt my wife and we separated. But we started working things out. We started to reconcile. Forgiveness and reconciliation were happening! We were going to take things SLOW. Were you part of the group that helped influence her to leave?

  How far back does this con go king David? Honestly?

  Now, with all that gunk out, let me close this positively.

  Its clear you two will marry. You will experience struggles just like any normal couple would. You both profess to love God and like recovery. Fight for her heart David. When the hard times come, be a man and seek help. Don't let this marriage fail. Sure I don't like how it started, but now that it is started, do a good job of it. Be a good and kind husband. Invest in her. Don't control or manipulate, rather submit to each other in love.

  I really want to curse you David. I didn't write down all the ways that I despise you. Someday we will meet again. Its going to be awkward. Especially after all the names I called you! Ha!

Signing off, Josh

  How did I do? Was I mean enough? I want to be meaner. I really do! But I'm done folks. I have spent enough time grieving and worrying. They are going to be married shortly. Its no longer my concern.

  My job is to stay the course in recovery. My job is to reach out to hurting men. My job is to be present at all times. Its Davids job to look out for her. As much as I think he is an asshole, I hope they succeed. It would suck to have invested so much deception and not get the reward.

OK, now I'm really done.

I am such a jerk sometimes.

************************************************

  How did I do? I can't believe I could be so nasty! Yet, there is another side that shows love and forgiveness.

  I wrestle with myself. Don't you wrestle with yourself? Its the human condition.

Recurring dreams

  Seems that every time I interact with my ex I am in store for intense dreams that evening. The dreams always revolve around her leaving, my disbelief, an explanation of repentance, and a discussion about recovery. Last night was no different.

  She sent me an email, all she wanted was for me to start writing her checks in her maiden name. Didn't really phase me. Tho I did wonder how long until that changes again.

  Its the dreams I have afterwards that cause me to marvel. I figure that my subconscious mind is forging new connections. That's good! But the dreams are sad. I am left feeling unloved and unforgivable.

  It takes me a while to clear my mind in the morning. Feeling loved and lovable doesn't come cheaply. While many have chosen to love me in spite of my dark past, she could not.

  I think the dreams could offer up an indication of my healing. When the dreams stop the healing is completed. Sounds good to me! Its not very scientific and it likely isn't true, but when those dreams stop, my heart will finally be comforted entirely.

 

 

Oblivious

  I love writing about those moments where I don't quite get what's going on.  My inability to pick up on cues is staggering.  I am a social cripple! I present such a case:

  I arrive at a truck stop and settle in. A short while later, I notice that a coworker is going to park next to me. She appears stressed. She needs help backing her trailer in...... Uh oh!

  ("She" is a problem. Not this one in particular. All women. Well....most women. Here's the thing, I tend to sexualize female encounters. Rather, that's what I did for many years. These last four years I have been getting my black belt in situational awareness. Today I can treat women with respect! But, I had to become a dork to avoid certain situations. Dorking out, this will become key later in the story.)

  I hop out of my truck, pausing only to put on my superman cape, and help guide her into her spot. She is very grateful, explains how she is worn out from driving all day, and how nice it was to help her out.

  No problem. Glad to help. Have a pleasant night. I get back in my truck.

  My friends are playing online and I join in. We are all chatting and having fun. That's when I get a knock on my door.

  She's back!

  I then that I noticed her truck had moved. She mentions that the parking is better at the other end of the lot. There is a spot next to hers down there and perhaps I should move. Leaving in the morning would be much easier from those other spots.

  She's right. But I don't care. I'm comfortable right here. Besides, I want to get back to goofing off with my friends.

  She hands me a movie. Its a part two of some dumb movie I didn't care to see part one of. She says that she wanted to thank me and saw this movie. Figured I might like it.

  I'm like, "Nah, I got Netflix. It works just fine. Thank you for the kind thought. I gotta go. Have a nice evening."

  I left her holding some snacks, movie in hand, wanting to thank me.

  Now, at the moment all I could think about was getting back and hanging with my friends. At the moment, my phone was blowing up with text messages wondering what was going on. (My friends had heard a females voice and then I went silent). I wasn't aware of the texts yet. I was still outside.

  After her and I parted ways I noticed all my texts. My friends were really worried. They thought a lot lizard had grabbed my attention! I had a good laugh as I told them it was just a coworker.

  Then it hit me!

  I think she wanted some company watching the movie! I remember how strange she looked at me when I said I had Netflix! Netflix doesn't have ME ya big dork!

  Oh well.

  I have practiced the art of not flirting for years now. I am really slow to the draw! I'm glad I am.

  Right now I am on a quest to find myself. Sure a night of passionate popcorn eating might be fun, but it would wound me. I'm not looking to start anything with any women.

  But how funny is it that I couldn't even pick up the clues! "I have Netflix!"

  Oblivious dork! I love it!

 

Vacation!

  For the second time in my life I have a paid vacation! Woohoo and whoopteedoo!

  Its time to be serious about fun. Very serious! Ha!

  I caught myself trying to figure out how to end the vacation early and get back to work. I am a workaholic. So when I told my boss what day I am coming back I purposefully took all the vacation. The full two weeks! Well.....not the entire two weeks, I am coming back three days early so I can use that time for when my sister visits in December. It is important to have time available for her.

  Why was I starting to obsess about returning to work early? Who cares! I thumb my nose at my neurotic nature and refuse to dwell on it any longer.

  Its time to check out for a while.

  I have plans on working on the 1956 Chevy pickup, flying rc planes, going to a play, bike riding, disc golfing, picnicking, movie watching, video gaming, and being lazy.

  I think I might have scheduled too much!

  Anyways, for the next 11 days I am free to do all the stuff I like to do, and I like to do cool stuff! I am super grateful that I am at a place in life where I can enjoy life and live it to the fullest.

  Watch out Spokane......its time to party!

Codependent

  Turns out I have a case of codependency. I don't know when exactly it struck, but I definitely have it.

  It is so annoying!

  When did caring about others cross over into this unhealthy space?

  For instance, today another driver backed his trailer into my truck. Not a lot of damage done, he only dented the shield over the exhaust stack. Seriously, no biggie.

  I begin worrying about this dude. He is a new driver in training (that means he is broke and might lose his job). I share with him a couple of blunders I had made when I started driving. We exchange info. All is done.

  But its not done for me.

  I have to swim around in the cesspool of my mind for the next hour or so. I wonder if there is anything I can do to help, perhaps I could pay for the shield. Should I have gotten his email? I have his phone number, but emailing him might be better. Is he going to be fired? Will his family be OK? Is he going to jump off the next overpass? Was this the final straw for him????!!!!!!

Arrrrggghhhhh

  Why must I care so much? Its not about them, its something about me. I like to rescue. Even when I shouldn't, even when its bad, I want to be the hero.

  Enough already!

  I need to find the perfect balance between caring and wanting to help, versus enabling and being stepped on.

  It is a delicate balance. Some people need a strong man to balance out their struggles. Others need a man strong enough to tell them to do it themselves.

  I have my own story concerning this.

  I was attending a secret society meeting. (Ominous right?!!) While at the meeting, I decided I would divulge all of my dark secrets. In open forum! Some zealous dude decided that he needed to protect me. He cuts me off and asks me to share at some other time. Screw him, I share anyways. When the meeting was over he approached me and explained how he was trying to protect me.

  I was gracious and thanked him for his effort. Then I talked to a friend about it. My friend wondered why it was that guys responsibility to protect me. Yeah, why?!!! It was a very good point indeed.

  I have come to accept that I am responsible to stand up for myself. If I feel unsafe or at risk, I need to do something about it. I am responsible.

  That is my job.

  Why then do I desire to do that same job for other people? Because I fundamentally believe that if there is conflict I need to end it, no matter how much it costs me. And because I have done that my entire life, I became emotionally weathered and proceeded to medicate away my frustrations.

  This is a big insight today. I don't take this lesson lightly. My mission isn't to be a hero. I want to be a helper, but first I have to be diligent with why I want to help. I am tired of cleaning the mud out of the welcome mat of my soul. I am tired of putting myself at emotional risk just so someone else will be comfortable.

The Ring Toss (part two)

  Well I made it! Some friends and I got together at the IHOP restaurant right in the Costco parking lot. We had dinner, chatted a bit, then walked out to toss the ring.

  I made no formality about it. I had figured that I might say a prayer, perhaps talk about a specific memory, or somehow express my sorrow. There was no need. These men have been by my side all along. They knew the scene. All of them, at one time or another, had listened to my laments about my marriage. They helped carry me thru the garbage.

  We walked over to the tree and looked for a place to toss the ring. On the far end of the lot was a big grassy dip that would likely have a dry well in the bottom. We headed that way.

  Things became quieter. We were all a little nervous. Someone commented how strange it would seem seeing a group of men walk across a parking lot and down into the ditch.

  One of the guys started to lift the grate off the top of the well. Another commented how I could just drop it down the grate. I was in a fog. I couldn't speak.

  Without saying a word I dropped the ring, turned, and walked away. The pain was so immensely powerful at that very moment, I simply couldn't think, let alone speak. Tears started flowing.

  We walked out of the ditch. We had maybe spent 30 second down there. Someone commented how strange it would look to see a group of guys walk into a ditch, one tries to take the lid off the drain, then another reaches down and drops something into the drain. I thought that was funny and started laughing.

  He had broken the ice. I am so grateful.

  We started joking around and being silly dudes. We fellowshipped in the parking lot for quite a while. I could tell that the men weren't going to leave until I was OK. That was a nice gift.

  The last gift I got that night was a friend calling me in the midst of a crisis. We were all about to head out when the call came in. My friend was hurting and wanted to talk. I offered for him to come out and meet us for dessert. He accepted the offer. I was so grateful that I could be of service.

I felt completely loved and valued the entire time I went to toss the ring. I even felt needed.

  Thank you.

  Thank you to the men who were there that night.

  Thank you to you the reader. Many of you who read this have walked this road with me.

  Thank you to all who have journeyed with me.

  Now I am a single dude.

 

The Ring Toss

  So tonight I have scheduled a moment to toss my wedding ring. Mind you, this is my silver ring, I will keep the gold one just in case one of my daughters would like to have it.

  What is this whole ring toss thing about? I guess its a fairly common thing. People stop by a lake somewhere and give it the old heave ho. It supposed to bring a sense of closure and peace. Perhaps it can be a time of reflection on the past and a powering forward into the future. I like the idea.

  A couple years ago my friend went and did this. That was when I had first heard of this idea. His story stuck. I found myself drawn into the rawness and brutality that such a moment could bring. I purposed to do the same when my divorce came.

  But let me talk about the wedding ring a bit.

  When we married we were broke, dig in the couch for dinner money broke. Somehow we got these inexpensive rings. I vowed to buy her a better one at a later date. We eventually got better rings, but it was done on credit, and that provided yet another point of contention that we would utterly fail to work out.

  The ring I had gotten married in became too small. Years of married life had expanded my horizons :) For an anniversary she had it resized. Resizing it probably cost more than it had originally cost. But it was quite a gift!

  I never wore my ring. I made up some crap about safety at work. The reality was, I just never wore jewelry. It felt uncomfortable. It made my finger raw.

  I tried wearing the resized ring. Then one night I took it off, set it on the table next to the couch, and marched my way to the bottom of many beers. The ring got thrown away in the morning with the beer caps. I want to cry just writing that. My ring and ultimately my marriage were swept away in a flurry of beer caps and shot glasses. Damn.

  Shortly after becoming sober I went to the store and found an identical ring. I bought it, put it on, and have only taken it off to sleep. When I wake up and put it on, it reminds me of her and my hope for restoration. I knew it would be uncomfortable but I figured that it would help me remember to pray for her. Every time I thought about my wedding ring I would have a quite moment. It worked very well.

  My ring finger has a groove in it. It has a distinct tan line. The fingers next to it are callused just right so the rubbing isn't an issue. I can't imagine not wearing it. I am scared. I suppose that when I look down upon that naked finger I should take a moment and make sure I am present. I imagine some pain coming my way when I miss the ring.

  Thinking about it now, I think it is like a comfort blanket. A small indicator to me and the world that my marriage still has hope. I gentle reminder that I belonged to someone. Someone who, although I did not understand her present behavior, I trusted her character.

  Back to the ring toss.

  Where should I go to toss it? I asked my friend and he asked me if we had a special spot that had a specific meaning. No special places by lakes or streams came to mind. But one memory did come to mind.

  Shortly after becoming sober she and I met up and went to a meeting together. After the meeting I took her back to her car. It was in the Costco parking lot. We sat and talked. I put some music on and tried to dance with her. She was embarrassed, but she was laughing and seemed so happy. I asked her for a kiss. Fireworks!!!! 

  There were literal fireworks going off as we kissed! The baseball game had ended nearby and they were setting them off. Our timing was awesome!

  I placed a lot of hope in that moment. I bought her a card, that when opened would light up and make fireworks sounds. I saw her face when she opened the card. She didn't know it would make sounds. We were in public and she was slightly embarrassed. But I could tell that it meant something to her.   Priceless!

  I had hoped she would open the card from time to time and she could remember back. She could remember the hope. She could remember the excitement. She could remember me. But, she ended up forgetting.

  I wonder what faded faster, the batteries in the card, or her love for me?

  I think its obvious where I must go tonight. I will park by the same tree. I will bring up her face and all the memories we had. I will think back on that evening and all the hope it gave me. Then I will let her go. I will let the hope go.

  I will find a storm drain or something to throw the ring into.

  I think it would have been easier to have thrown it into a random lake. I think this makes it much more real. If there are fireworks going off tonight I may have to shoot myself. That would be way too much.

Villain!

You know the cliché of a Hollywood villain? His hair is black and slicked back. His nose is perhaps a bit too pointy. He is a mustachioed man whose mere presence makes you cover your wallet. He is cunning and crafty.

  I am become a villain! Muwahaha!
 
  When I woke up yesterday I wasn't. The day started out much like any other: Have some breakfast, read a devotional, drink some coffee, enjoy a smoke...... It was an average day.

  My life is filled with such days. I work hard, I play well, I love on people, and I just try and get by. For four years my life is relatively mundane. Working and paying bills seems to take up an inordinate amount of time, but my recovery depends upon my faithfulness to being current with both.

  So when I saw the letter from my ex's attorney, my heart fell out. He painted me as a man who refuses to pay my share of taxes and won't support my child going to college. Suddenly, with the stroke of an attorneys pen, I had become a villain!

  It isn't really much of a surprise. Divorces have a way of making people use harsh words. Divorces don't happen unless a degree of hatred can be maintained. That's just the way it is.

  But I was hurt. The last four years I have spent trying to repair the wreckage of the previous years. For four years the bills have been paid and I have faithfully given extra for my daughters when asked.

  I am not seeking to justify myself or drag people over to my side of the street. My side of the street is filled with years of wreckage. I have been busy shoveling my own dung up, I don't need to fling poo. I just need to share my hurt.

  So, how do you become a villain? Get in recovery, try and rescue your marriage, watch everything dissolve, and voilà.... You too can become a villain. All it takes is a little hate.

*************************************************************************

   Let's shift gears and have me ask you a couple questions. Did I just take it too far? Was I been fair? Am I portraying myself as holier than thou?

  Again, I don't want to be justifying myself. I am plenty screwed up!

  I feel wrongfully attacked. I want to yell. I want to cry.

  A temper tantrum would feel really really good!

  Oh man, can you imagine how great that would be, laying on my stomach, pounding the floor with my fists, and screaming out obscenities! Yes, please!

  Where could I do that without looking like a fool? Is that what I am doing by writing about all this stuff? If writing about that stuff is throwing a tantrum, its not working very well!

  I want my throat to be sore.
  I want my fists to hurt.
  I want to go sulk in my room.
  I want dad to tell me to suck it up you little baby.
  OK, maybe not the last one!
  I want to rant and rave.
 
  In short, I want this damn divorce to be over. I wish it didn't have to become a personal attack. Why can't she be amicable? Somebody make this stop already!

   Arrrgggghhhh
  Pound pound pound
  Kick kick kick

  Nope, words didn't quite do it. I gotta call someone and scream for a while. I better warn them before I start.
 

When dreams go bad

  I like dreams. I enjoy the freedom and flexibility they can provide. I enjoy the ability to explore and create. In particular, I enjoy the insight into the mind they can bring.

  But, I despise the bad ones!

  Who knew it was possible to be weeping in a dream, to then wake up from the dream to a tear soaked pillow? And how did my mind decide that last night was the night to rattle my cage?!!!

  I'm a spiritual guy. I believe God can influence dreams and give visions. How then do you deal with them? How do you know if its God showing you something? And if he is showing me something, what if I don't care to see it?

  If God inspired last nights dream then I am clueless as to what to do with it. If its simply my mind trying to process the gunk, why did it randomly pick last night to erupt?

  I haven't the slightest clue!

  I don't like the gut wrenching and soul churning dreams. I can do without my night time swallowed up by Freddie Krueger. These don't feel like my mind is sorting out the complex feelings. They feel like a sadist is playing my worst fears.

  Can someone please turn down the volume on these stupid dreams?!! Enough already! I hurt, I get it, now can we move on?

  I called up Mom to tell her about the crying thing. She has had the same experience! Ugh, it tears your heart out. I never knew that was a thing. Disturbing eh?

  The specifics of what I dreamed about aren't important. (Guy loses girl, guy dreams of her, blah blah blah, weep weep weep). I am just marveling at the power of the mind. And I wouldn't mind if it stopped!

  See what I did there? The mind thing? Punny. Is that even a word? Funny with a "P". Its "punny"! Ha!

  I think I need to relax. The dreams were brutal, but I am chilling out. Is there a trick to reading something nice before bed so the dreams are better? Maybe Field and Stream? I've never had an emotional dream about fish!

 

Counsel

(When someone asks 4 ur counsel or feedback, ask them 1st if they want "counsel" or "encouragement." The former may not feel like the latter.) - Dr. Henry Cloud

  When I read that Tweet it hit me right between the eyes. How many time have I been guilty of giving advice, when really what I was being asked to give was compassion? Far too many.

  Its starting to disturb me. I see it crop up in the most simple of conversations! Its like I have an innate need to solve problems. I blame testosterone. Who doesn't, right?!!

  Ugh

  How did I live for so long not caring about other peoples experiences? When did I start solving problems rather than actually caring? It grieves me. I guess the good news is that there will always be heartache and I can redeem myself by caring and not solving.

  Hooray for your future heartache! I can feel better by not solving it! Oh wow. Narcissistic much?

  I know, I know....that's not really what's being said here. But I marvel at my degree of self involvement even when pondering how it is I can help others. I am truly incapable of loving another above myself. Platitudes can't perform.

  But I will keep trying, OK? Come at me with your problems bro! I promise to not solve any of them. I will just be there to here you and be upset with you. Maybe once that's done then we will start solving stuff, but usually just letting the feeling out solves most problems.

  I guess I just want to relax a bit. Painful situations are OK for a spell. We can take walks and discuss the stuff. But we don't have to always solve everything. That's freedom and grace!

 

 

The Obituary

  A couple of posts ago I mentioned writing an obituary about my marriage. Turns out its much more difficult to get started writing that than I thought. My attempt here is to describe why it is hard, and how I can't possibly do it justice.

  Twice in my life I have had to say goodbye to everyone.

  The first happened just after highschool. Having been moved around a lot growing up, I never had a close group of friends. But highschool had changed that. The first three years were spent at Riverside Christian Highschool and I had gained many friends. Chaos and confusion in my life gradually consumed the friendships, leading me to leave all of them behind. The culminating moment was when I stole a battery charger from a friends garage. When I was discovered I was so embarrassed and shamed I never went back.

  So when my ex and I started seeing each other, it was with that wreckage in my not so distant past. Somehow I knew that I would someday hurt my bride and I would be alone again. So I kept guarded and medicated with drugs, alcohol, and pornography. Mediocre attempts were tried to stop those behaviors, but they were halfhearted and short lived.

  Gradually my family felt the impact of my sickness. It was a slow motion travesty.

  I had become an expert on building facades. I could present myself as one who had it all together, yet inside I was a mess. My wife saw the disparity but was helpless to intervene.

  My drinking became steadily worse. Blackouts were common. I didn't know it at the time, but energy drinks and hard alcohol is a recipe for amnesia. I drank both frequently.
  Sometimes the blackouts were amusing, often tragic. Trying to piece together who I had talked to, and what we had talked about, was always an adventure.

  But the blackouts grew dark. Arguments and horrible behaviors came out when I drank. It was a brutal lifestyle. My last night drunk was July 5th of 2010, and I had behaved very badly.

  (I am sorry I won't write about the specifics in this forum. The people I hurt and the stuff I did aren't things for public consumption. They are things that get talked about in close personal settings.)

  We separated. That became the second time I have had to let everyone go. This time I had to say goodbye to my own children. Fuck me. Nothing can prepare a man for that kind of pain.

  My children are still very hurt by who I was. Reconciliation hasn't started between us yet. People in recovery tell me to just stay the course and become well, someday I can make those amends. It hurts to think about how long that will take.

  A couple of days ago my older daughter referred to me as Josh, not Dad. She went on to say that she wasn't ready to talk. Guess I am further away than I had even guessed.

  This is another one of those blogs that is all over the place. I hope it makes sense.

  My ex and I never talk, and my kids don't want to talk to me either. I wish I could escape. How much pain can one guy truly bear?

  Escaping isn't even a viable option anymore. Having made contact with my true self severed the connection I had with distraction. The darkness and fog aren't attractive anymore. Its like I see a beautiful distant land on the horizon, and addiction is a storm I had crossed a while ago in the sea. I may not be on the distant shore yet, but I sure as hell ain't gonna turn the ship around.

  How am I supposed to write an obituary?

  Do I love her? Yes
  Do I miss her? Yes
  Were there times of joy? Yes
  What about holidays? Many were great

  See what I am doing there? There is nothing to learn from documenting the moments in a clinical sort of way. I need to cherish the good times and be grateful for them. In a sense I should work towards achieving a state of peace towards the past.

  So maybe someday I will write it all down. Perhaps in a novel or something. That would be fun. What could I call that book? It should be a comedy, a tragic comedy. Insert silly book title here.

  Writing an long obituary isn't feasible. I don't feel emotionally centered enough to do it. I twinge in pain as I think about happy memories, and I roil in horror at the bad ones. There isn't much I can look at without a degree of sadness.

  I hate being defined by my past. Someday, hopefully, my daughters will reach out to me. Someday, hopefully, I can reconcile with my ex (keeping in mind that reconciliation can mean just being able to make amends and thus be able to amicably talk).

  Will I write an obituary? Perhaps not all in one chunk. I think I will document the memories in the blog. This may bring a focus to these writings. Then again, I may continue my random thoughts. Either way, I walk away from these notes a bit refreshed. I really like the ability to go back and reread my past thoughts.

  Except for the misspellings and bad phrases, I hate seeing those! You with me, right?!!! I mean, come on, the emotions and realism is good and all, but try and edit a little! Who can read such ramblings!
 

Kettle Falls welcome sign

Kettle Falls

  My job often takes me to the same places every week. As I do my routine, I often overlook the beauty that surrounds me. Here I am, a guy who frequently drives all over the Northwest, becoming blasé in my appreciation of the grandeur.

Huge mountains with staggering glaciers on them? Meh, saw it last week.
A massive river with 100+ ft waterfalls? Yawn, I drive by it all the time.

  I could keep going. That's not the point. The point is, I am often too wrapped up in my own plaque to look at the world in child-like wonder. My awe vanished.

  So I had an unusual delivery on Friday. It went north of Spokane 90 miles to this cute little town called Kettle Falls. After dropping the load at the mill I parked by the river. Stunning. Absolutely stunning.

  In the middle of the night I woke up and just listened for a while. Complete silence. Not even the sound of a humpy frog. What an unusual sound. Silence.

  Whoever hijacked my sense of wonder and awe, would you mind returning them? I think I am missing out on some spectacular things.

Grieving

  I was told that the grieving process would come in waves. I was told that some days would be good while others painful. Any attempt to circumnavigate heavy emotions just delay becoming better.

  Today is one of the tougher days. Its her birthday. Everything inside of me wants to send her a note. My mind screams, "Just show her that you care!" But the issue is not whether or not she knows that I care, its that she has chosen to not want that sort of contact.

  So, I write this specific note in an attempt to quiet my mind:

  Happy Birthday Jodi,
  I hope someone reaches out to you and shows you that they care. I hope the cards, notes, and gifts really make your day. When you blow out the candles, may your wishes come true.
  Love, Josh

  0_0

  That opens my eyes just writing that note. I am inexorably tied to her. My struggles with the separation are slowly subsiding. That makes me a bit sad. Its like I want the pain. Like somehow without the pain all the years would mean nothing. Forgetting isn't possible, but being OK doesn't seem right. If I am able to accept and move on, then maybe we never had love anyways.

 

Comfort

  Just got done talking to my sponsor. Today marks four years sober! Woot!

  Tonight I am going to my home group and get my coin. Strange thing tho, I woke up wanting to go without my wedding ring. Then I could pick up a babe! Happy four years to me, right?!! Let's celebrate with a smooch!

  Whoa there turbo! I am in no shape to start dating, its just that I want the comfort of feeling attractive. The knowledge that I am desired really appeals to me.

  But what could I attract right now?

  If she was healthy and smart, she would not be attracted. She would look at my current divorce, the separation of my kids, and conclude that I wasn't ready yet. She would be a  wise woman to conclude that. I need more healing.

  On the other hand, a woman new in recovery would fit the bill quite nicely! She would be worried that she was damaged goods. She would see my four years as quite attractive. She could instantly think I am a white knight come to rescue her. We would forge a new path into the depths of despair....holding hands!

  What part of that sounds wise? I wear this ring for that reason. I cannot be trusted when an attractive woman gives me  "those eyes". I turn into a teenage boy full of raging hormones. I have always been suave, only now I can speak the language of recovery, so I could carefully craft my words to attract her emotionally as well. Disaster!

  I want a companion. Someone whom I can bless and be blessed by. I need to be careful that I don't fall into a relationship out of desperation or loneliness. Some more healing has to take place. A finalized divorce might be a good idea also!

  So yeah, women are great comforters. I want to be comforted. Maybe I will just go flirt. What could possibly go wrong?!!!

Go see the fireworks

  I am on the eve of my fourth year being sober! Woohoo! It has been terribly painful and immensely rewarding. I have lost friends and gained new ones. The relationships I have now are authentic and powerful. Life is pretty good.

  The last night that I got drunk was July 4th of 2010. On the 5th I had a couple of beers and was getting ready to plow in yet one more time. That was the moment when I was told exactly what kind of jerk I am when I drink to oblivion. Those few seconds changed everything.

  We had an option to go see the fireworks. I opted to stay at home and drink. Seemed like the right thing to! By making the choice to stay and drink, I set in motion a series of horrible events that I cannot change. That moment haunts me. Often I would choose to drink rather than live life. It cost me dearly. It cost my family dearly.

  So, when you have a choice, go see the fireworks! Trust me, you ain't missing a thing!

 

Indulge me a little petulance

  I am a few days into the discovery of my ex's new love interest. My support structure has helped navigate me thru the painful thoughts. I am greatly aware now that I will survive, flourish, and become even more healed. Armed with the knowledge that I am doing OK, let's get sideways in our discussion. Indulge me.

  I have looked at pictures of the new guy. Not a very striking guy! Handsome and debonair are not words likely to be associated with this creep. He is instantly forgettable...well...maybe not for me due to the circumstances.

  I am so pleased that he is not a looker! It would be crushing to my self worth if he had been handsome. I know it is petty, but it feels sooooo good!

  I am doubling down on the diet. I am going to buy a bike and stay riding it. I plan on thinning up and getting in shape. One day I will meet this guy, and when I do, I want to blow him out of the waters with my machismo. Booyah!

  Living well is the sweetest revenge. Looking good helps!

  Come on Josh, aren't you being a bit vain? Yup.

  Aren't you just projecting ugliness onto him? I suppose...but he earned it. Let me have a look at his picture again......nope......not projecting! Ha!

  If she is attracted to him, doesn't that make you ugly as well, seeing as she also liked you? Not at all. The fact is that I am so attractive it scared her into going for the dog. Woof!

  You are so mean Josh!

  Hey, I am just trying to be real. I sort of snickered at the idea of her dating a turd and me showing up with a beauty. Justice served!

  I will be a fit and firm hunk of manliness. Women will swoon. Men will weep. My ex will know that she chose poorly. And I will do my best to not rub it in....while flexing as I pick up something.

  Is this all fantasy? Sort of. I really do want to get in shape. I am working hard and eating well to achieve that goal. I want to present myself as a new man. Outwardly hunk-a-lishous, while inwardly a sensitive man. Cue the swooning babes!

  So Bozo (that's not the bozos real name) you may have came in and grabbed her attention, but you did it while she was vulnerable. You also did it while divorcing your own wife, turd breath. You make pond scum look smart. You make me sick. You are merely the stuff she dragged in on the bottom of her shoe. Eventually you will wear off.

  How about you man up and go try and fix your own marriage? If it can't be fixed, take some time off and come to grips with what you may have failed at. Its good to be able to see circumspectly, go try it. And leave my soon to be ex alone, instead of creating new wreckage. Its better for everyone. Stop being a predator of weak women. I was one and I recognize it in you. Get help butt breath.

 

Dilemma

  My recovery friends have helped out in the most amazing ways. Yesterday felt like my world had ended, today I begin with a new hope.

  I was presented with a dilemma. I could continue to pine away for my ex, hoping that she would wake up, or simply accept and move on.

  She appears to be entering into a destructive relationship that has plenty of landmines. It has the appearance of how our relationship had started. The trouble is, it often takes years for the problems to surface and become painful enough to address. Even if they do develop there would be no guarantee of her suddenly wanting me back, or even entertaining the idea.

  The fellow she has chosen was a leader in the church. Six months ago he stepped down and filed for divorce. His divorce is still pending. My ex's divorce isn't final yet either.

  I can see how these two hurting people could think that they will help each other out. They will be trying hard and putting their best foot forward. There is always a slight chance that it could work, but without healing its hard to see how.

  I believe the path to recovery involves investment, time, and rigorous honesty. I am not good at any of them, but I am doing it. Its not apparent that these two have done the heavy lifting.

  Goodbye my sweetie. I will be writing an obituary of our marriage. I will always cherish our memories. I won't always be bitter. I have no idea if my future has a new love for me, but I am certain our love won't reignite. I will weep and mourn. I will press into the feeling and do my best to not suppress them. You would be proud of who I have become. I will still love you, but it won't be the same kind of love. The years of confusion and pain are closing, I hope you will emerge happy. I hope you don't get hurt again.

Heartache

  Just found out that my wife is dating another dude. I suppose its more accurate to say, my soon to be ex is dating another dude. The divorce hasn't happened yet, that happens next month. Their relationship is serious enough for her family to know about it and know that they are working towards something serious. His divorce won't be final for a while. Two people going thru divorces deciding to date.......

  Last August she told me to forget about her. She didn't want to be pursued and she didn't want me to hope for reconciliation. I still did. Of course I did.

  Finding this out wrecked my day. Countless tears, screaming, and moaning. I have a headache.

  While I am so grateful for my group of friends who stepped up and kept me on the phone, it doesn't solve the problem. The problem can't be solved. The decision to date means that there will never be reconciliation. There can't be. I will never have that emotional connection with her again.

  I had hoped that she could meet the real me. Perhaps the pain caused by the old me could be transformed. Perhaps she wouldn't fear me.

  I am a recovering drunk and sex addict. Those addictions lead me to some very dark places. In the darkness I wounded and trampled on the very people who cared about me most.

  We had a while together after recovery had started. We became closer and talked more earnestly. Hopes were high. But the victories were small and the old battles were bloody. Eventually she couldn't hold out anymore. And now I am sure of it.

  I sit here right now.

  The pain is fresh. The tears sting. My hope is dashed to pieces.

  They tell me that life and love will return. This tremendous weight will be lifted. I can't see how.

  It was a very rough day.

End of life

  In kind of a bizarre twist to an otherwise acrimonious relationship, my dad has started to become gentle and loving. I only wish it didn't have to happen because of cancer.

  It started a few months ago with him finding out about his liver cancer. He began vomiting up large quantities of blood, was rushed off to the emergency room, only to discover in the coming weeks that he had the liver cancer.

  Fast forward to a couple weeks ago. He had been having pain in his left arm for a few days, then suddenly it broke. Place the arm in a cast, do some tests, and...crap...bone cancer.

  Seeing Dad weak and vulnerable is difficult. I wish he didn't have to go thru the treatments and fear. I wish the answers came easier.

  Its hard to reconcile my feelings about his physical trauma with my feelings about his emotional vulnerabilities. I have enjoyed this new side of him. Our conversations are more honest and deep. Why did it have to happen towards the end of life?

  We spent years debating politics and religion. We had countless hours dissecting the intricate details of what is wrong with the world. I watched as he carefully avoided any true bonds with people. I watched him avoid bonding with me.

  I'm still nervous when I see him. I keep expecting the legalist to emerge. Can this softer man really continue?

  There are those who can ask the same questions about me. My reformed life is still young. I only recently became a loving and compassionate man. Looks like my father, like me, may have experienced enough trauma to change him. I am working on giving him the same forgiveness I want. It is tough to do. I am a hypocrite.

 

Breaking diets

  So I took a couple days off of the diet. No biggie right??! Well.....OK.....the weight didn't just leap back on or anything, but the cravings, THE CRAVINGS!

  Stopped for lunch and had a sandwich. Figured some M&Ms would go well with it and grabbed a small bag. But wait, those bags are two for a dollar. Gotta save money right? Hold on, the cashier has a coupon for half off....four for a dollar!!! Yeah, I got four. Damn.

  What was I thinking? I don't have to worry about my wallet maintaining weight!

  Tomorrow I begin again. I am really excited about drilling a new hole in my belt. Let's get serious again...after I finish those sweet chocolate candies. Two peanut and two chocolate, awww yeah!

Forgiveness and resentment

  I wrote a post back in 2011 titled "Forgiveness and Resentment". I never posted it. It has become my own little reminder of who I want to be. In it I discuss how messed up people are and how easy resentment can fester. I am a champion, a king if you will, of resentments. 

  But it is getting easier to give grace. Allowing space for others to flourish sometimes hurts, but its better than the alternative.

  I dunno, I just read that only post again. It made me nostalgic for where I was. At the time, my mom was going thru divorce. I would stop by her house a couple times a week and we would walk and talk. Those talks helped deliver me. It formed a bond with Momma. I marvel at how wonderful those times were. What a gift.

  I forget how beautiful the path I have walked is. The valleys and mountains make for a tremendous backdrop for the man I am becoming. Its OK.

Well Upholstered

  Ah, the age old battle of weight loss, such good times!

  It began a couple years after I got married. Slowly, insidiously, I began consuming more than I expelled. The years of hyper-activity had meant that I could eat endlessly and never gain anything. I suppose it also helps that I had youth on my side. Nevertheless, my insulation rating was becoming greater.

  In July of 2010 my world dissolved. Countless wounds to my family had culminated in a tragic finish. It was painful enough to drive me into recovery. I began taking an accurate assessment of who I had become. Here is an over simplification of who I was:

Morbidly obese
Addicted to porn
Addicted to alcohol
Addicted to self righteousness
Addicted to control

  As friends helped me put down the addictions, the fat thing had to had to be put on hold. I wanted to be skinny, I wanted to diet and become healthy, but sobriety from alcohol took priority.

  Chocolate and burgers were the key.

  I found that I could transfer some of my cravings for alcohol over to sweets and burgers. It was effective. Today I am approaching 4 years sober! Yay me! Yay fat me!

   A couple of times last year I started and stopped a diet. These would last just long enough for pizza and ice cream to beckon me back into their loving arms. So soft and gentle! When I was hurting, Ben and Jerry's understood compassion.

  The turmoil and heartache of my impending divorce prohibited me from carving out these comfort foods. Days when I was especially hurt, I could plow into the food and find relief.

  So when I came to terms with divorce things started changing. (As a side note, I may have come to terms with it, but it still jacks me up sometimes). I began my diet again in late January. I am proud to announce that I have shed 25 pounds! Truthfully, I still need to lose another 25 before its super noticeable. But my belt don't lie, I have run out of holes and need to drill a new one! Booyah!

  My diet is so boring. I need to get a fridge for my truck so I can mix it up. For now it is mostly hardboiled eggs, cheese, beef sticks, and bun-less hamburgers. I mix it up with salads and broccoli. Monotonous.........so monotonous.

  Diet coke slows my diet down. But its very difficult to give it up. Water doesn't quite have the same "washing it down" quality after I finish a smoke. A smoke! I know, I know...where was that on my list? Some other day in the future I will deal with that.

  I am still a mess. No surprise there! I can't get it all fixed immediately. Things take priority, especially those things that hurt others. Its a strange feeling to learn to accept ones limitations.

  I look forward to being skinny. I see the outline of the guy I used to be in the mirror.  When I am skinny I can attract the babes, that would show my ex! I wish I knew what kind of woman she was intimidated by so I could date one of those.

  Wow! Anybody got some pizza and ice cream?

 

18 years

  My last anniversary with my wife has come and gone. Yesterday marked 18 years of marriage. Soon she will be my former wife. The ex. The one who got away. A woman I used to know.

  She sent me an email complaining that I had not started paying for my life insurance. I had forgotten to switch over that bill. She took care of the bills and I never quite had the knack for them. So, when I took mine over, I was an emotional wreck and I forgot one. Simple mistake.

  She also complained that I had put my car insurance on her credit card. Mind you, I am an authorized user and had a card. Regardless, I did it....and I meant to! I also went bowling and put that on her card! She didn't mention the bowling.

  I charged her card in a deliberate act of rebellion. I knew she would complain and I wanted her to! I paid her back for the charges and told her that I wanted to be an asshole for a day. Better than a bitch for life! Ha! I didn't say that bitch part to her, but oh boy did I want to!

  It disturbs me, this divorce stuff. I am being forced into a situation where I will no longer have feelings for the most important person in my life. As my fondness of her subsides, I worry that I will become bitter.

  Speaking of bitter...the Jews have a thing on passover where they eat bitter herbs to remind them of the years in Egypt. In my own twist on this, I think that I will .... Wow, just went morbid there. Really??!!! I was gonna set up a time annually to remember those years.

  Here is one of my more demented ideas about ways to remember. An annual ceremonial hanging of the stuffed animal frog that she bought me. (She thought it was cute and that someday I might be a prince). I could read the letters she wrote me of love and hope, while the frog gets its neck stretched. Eating those "bitter herbs" would be great. Morbid.

  Maybe I torch the damn frog. Put some sappy music under me reading her love letters. Film the whole thing and send her a tape. How do you like me now witch!

  I dunno folks. Divorce is brutal, dark thoughts come, I am comfortable with that. Seeking solace in the knowledge that this too shall pass. Like eating too much cheese, its painful but it passes.

 

 

Michael

  Michael wasn't a friend, he was barely an acquaintance, what he was was the younger (annoying) brother of my highschool girlfriend. As I entered into my junior year of highschool he was a freshman. We sort of had the same friends and we did kinda hangout. But he was always the annoying little brother.

  His wife found his body Monday morning. Suicide.

  Twenty two years of never seeing him, or thinking about him, and yet I can't imagine this ever happening. Its tragic. Why this? Why now?

  How will his wife be able to cope and grow? What trauma does this do to the kids? Will they navigate the murky waters of recovery successfully? Can some good come out of this?

  I have compassionate thoughts for his family. I grief for his family. Somehow, somebody please go help.

  Somehow I find within myself a tiny sense of relief. I know its messed up in a dark way, but finding out that I'm not the only one who went down the road of destruction brings an eerie comfort. Listen closely, I am not at all happy with their trauma. It is just that I didn't know people had problems, at least more than superficial problems. I felt alone in a world of normal people, this helps change that.

  I want to be careful. I have no idea if he was plagued by mental issues, addictions, or any such thing. I just wish I had a crystal ball that I could have seen the future and gotten help. I wish I somehow could have known the pain of life and been more helpful...sooner.

  So I take a moment to think about Michael. I have no clue how he got to such despair. Frankly, I don't care how he got there. My heart breaks for him and his family. Such pain and sorrow.

Peter part 2

  I wrote that last post while sitting waiting for my truck to be unloaded. Its a great time for listening to podcasts, reading, playing video games, or catching up on my favorite TV shows. Occasionally I write.

  I wrote about Peter because he is a Bible character I can kinda understand. His years of faithfulness to the cause were almost wiped out in one night. His anger and resentment weren't hidden away like it was some shameful thing. He was unfaithful to a faithful God.

  I struggle with unfaithfulness. Whether it be God, family, or friends, I don't find within myself the ability to stay true. I rebel, push back, or don't engage. Its like I have the unique ability to destroy the very things I like.

  Things were going well for me. I figured out how to be productive at work, people at church thought I was important, even my wife was modestly happy. Inside me was a sea of uncertainty. I was a seven year old stuck in a thirty year olds body, and I could pretend well.

  Life became a blur of work, church, and drinking. When not working I would fret about the jobs I had left to finish, when working I would think about booze, and when boozing I would think about religion. Not all the time, mind you, just when I was feeling powerful.

  Church became about acting just right. Be the guy who greets people, be the one who helps them move, visit the infirmed, pretend to care. I read the Bible just to hone my skills as an orator. I listened to sermons to memorize the cadence and style of good preaching. I learned about dispensations, theology, Christology, Calvin's T.U.L.I.P., eschatology, etc...  I struck out, not to deepen my understanding of God, rather I struck out in quest of strength.

  The strength I sought was in reputation. I could converse with the heavy weights. Most average church goers had limited knowledge of the scholarly works, and if i had the knowledge, I could appear like a good man.

  It troubled me that my wife knew the truth. She put on a good face and pretended that I was what I appeared. Years of pretending has taken its toll.

  Maybe this is why Peter blows my mind. He was just a fisherdude. He had no agenda to fill, no church to impress, he just met a man that would radically change his life. Peter stumbled into history being himself.

  That is what I seek to do.

  I must give honor to my beliefs. Yet, I must recognize my inability to follow my beliefs. Proclaiming the truth and obeying the truth aren't so easy to do.

  The truth is that Jesus paid my debt. I had been taught for years that once I accepted his payment it was my duty to stay debt free. That is a fallacy. It smells like smoke! If I am relying upon myself to rescue myself, from even my future actions, I am trampling on the debt that was paid.

  Sorry to get all preachy. I feel like Paul when he said that within himself he finds no ability to do the good he wants to do. That's why the gospel is such good news. It removes the burden from the drowning man and places it on the lifeguard.

  I heard a good story that if you see a big fella thrashing about and drowning, the safest thing to do is to wait until he is almost going under, then rescue him. To do so sooner would jeopardize both your lives. That's what God did with me! I hated it! But I'm glad he rescued me!

  Back to Peter. Here was a guy with issues loved by someone who knew those very issues. Every mistake, every lie, every bit of cowardice, it was all understood before hand....and he was still loved. I am still loved.

  Folks, its a cruel world. Its important to be kind and be aware of others hurts and misfortunes. It matters that we champion human rights. Root for the underdog!

  Belief matters also. I am not postmodern in the slightest. Jesus said what he said and I believe him. Either he was right or he wasn't. Either my beliefs are correct or I am wrong. Regardless, it is my duty and honor to love others.

  Have a happy Easter folks. Remember, nobody ever became a Christian because you complained that they only come to church on Christmas and Easter. Huzzah!

Peter part 2

  I wrote that last post while sitting waiting for my truck to be unloaded. Its a great time for listening to podcasts, reading, playing video games, or catching up on my favorite TV shows. Occasionally I write.

  I wrote about Peter because he is a Bible character I can kinda understand. His years of faithfulness to the cause were almost wiped out in one night. His anger and resentment weren't hidden away like it was some shameful thing. He was unfaithful to a faithful God.

  I struggle with unfaithfulness. Whether it be God, family, or friends, I don't find within myself the ability to stay true. I rebel, push back, or don't engage. Its like I have the unique ability to destroy the very things I like.

  Things were going well for me. I figured out how to be productive at work, people at church thought I was important, even my wife was modestly happy. Inside me was a sea of uncertainty. I was a seven year old stuck in a thirty year olds body, and I could pretend well.

  Life became a blur of work, church, and drinking. When not working I would fret about the jobs I had left to finish, when working I would think about booze, and when boozing I would think about religion. Not all the time, mind you, just when I was feeling powerful.

  Church became about acting just right. Be the guy who greets people, be the one who helps them move, visit the infirmed, pretend to care. I read the Bible just to hone my skills as an orator. I listened to sermons to memorize the cadence and style of good preaching. I learned about dispensations, theology, Christology, Calvin's T.U.L.I.P., eschatology, etc...  I struck out, not to deepen my understanding of God, rather I struck out in quest of strength.

  The strength I sought was in reputation. I could converse with the heavy weights. Most average church goers had limited knowledge of the scholarly works, and if i had the knowledge, I could appear like a good man.

  It troubled me that my wife knew the truth. She put on a good face and pretended that I was what I appeared. Years of pretending has taken its toll.

  Maybe this is why Peter blows my mind. He was just a fisherdude. He had no agenda to fill, no church to impress, he just met a man that would radically change his life. Peter stumbled into history being himself.

  That is what I seek to do.

  I must give honor to my beliefs. Yet, I must recognize my inability to follow my beliefs. Proclaiming the truth and obeying the truth aren't so easy to do.

  The truth is that Jesus paid my debt. I had been taught for years that once I accepted his payment it was my duty to stay debt free. That is a fallacy. It smells like smoke! If I am relying upon myself to rescue myself, from even my future actions, I am trampling on the debt that was paid.

  Sorry to get all preachy. I feel like Paul when he said that within himself he finds no ability to do the good he wants to do. That's why the gospel is such good news. It removes the burden from the drowning man and places it on the lifeguard.

  I heard a good story that if you see a big fella thrashing about and drowning, the safest thing to do is to wait until he is almost going under, then rescue him. To do so sooner would jeopardize both your lives. That's what God did with me! I hated it! But I'm glad he rescued me!

  Back to Peter. Here was a guy with issues loved by someone who knew those very issues. Every mistake, every lie, every bit of cowardice, it was all understood before hand....and he was still loved. I am still loved.

  Folks, its a cruel world. Its important to be kind and be aware of others hurts and misfortunes. It matters that we champion human rights. Root for the underdog!

  Belief matters also. I am not postmodern in the slightest. Jesus said what he said and I believe him. Either he was right or he wasn't. Either my beliefs are correct or I am wrong. Regardless, it is my duty and honor to love others.

  Have a happy Easter folks. Remember, nobody ever became a Christian because you complained that they only come to church on Christmas and Easter. Huzzah!

Peter part 2

  I wrote that last post while sitting waiting for my truck to be unloaded. Its a great time for listening to podcasts, reading, playing video games, or catching up on my favorite TV shows. Occasionally I write.

  I wrote about Peter because he is a Bible character I can kinda understand. His years of faithfulness to the cause were almost wiped out in one night. His anger and resentment weren't hidden away like it was some shameful thing. He was unfaithful to a faithful God.

  I struggle with unfaithfulness. Whether it be God, family, or friends, I don't find within myself the ability to stay true. I rebel, push back, or don't engage. Its like I have the unique ability to destroy the very things I like.

  Things were going well for me. I figured out how to be productive at work, people at church thought I was important, even my wife was modestly happy. Inside me was a sea of uncertainty. I was a seven year old stuck in a thirty year olds body, and I could pretend well.

  Life became a blur of work, church, and drinking. When not working I would fret about the jobs I had left to finish, when working I would think about booze, and when boozing I would think about religion. Not all the time, mind you, just when I was feeling powerful.

  Church became about acting just right. Be the guy who greets people, be the one who helps them move, visit the infirmed, pretend to care. I read the Bible just to hone my skills as an orator. I listened to sermons to memorize the cadence and style of good preaching. I learned about dispensations, theology, Christology, Calvin's T.U.L.I.P., eschatology, etc...  I struck out, not to deepen my understanding of God, rather I struck out in quest of strength.

  The strength I sought was in reputation. I could converse with the heavy weights. Most average church goers had limited knowledge of the scholarly works, and if i had the knowledge, I could appear like a good man.

  It troubled me that my wife knew the truth. She put on a good face and pretended that I was what I appeared. Years of pretending has taken its toll.

  Maybe this is why Peter blows my mind. He was just a fisherdude. He had no agenda to fill, no church to impress, he just met a man that would radically change his life. Peter stumbled into history being himself.

  That is what I seek to do.

  I must give honor to my beliefs. Yet, I must recognize my inability to follow my beliefs. Proclaiming the truth and obeying the truth aren't so easy to do.

  The truth is that Jesus paid my debt. I had been taught for years that once I accepted his payment it was my duty to stay debt free. That is a fallacy. It smells like smoke! If I am relying upon myself to rescue myself, from even my future actions, I am trampling on the debt that was paid.

  Sorry to get all preachy. I feel like Paul when he said that within himself he finds no ability to do the good he wants to do. That's why the gospel is such good news. It removes the burden from the drowning man and places it on the lifeguard.

  I heard a good story that if you see a big fella thrashing about and drowning, the safest thing to do is to wait until he is almost going under, then rescue him. To do so sooner would jeopardize both your lives. That's what God did with me! I hated it! But I'm glad he rescued me!

  Back to Peter. Here was a guy with issues loved by someone who knew those very issues. Every mistake, every lie, every bit of cowardice, it was all understood before hand....and he was still loved. I am still loved.

  Folks, its a cruel world. Its important to be kind and be aware of others hurts and misfortunes. It matters that we champion human rights. Root for the underdog!

  Belief matters also. I am not postmodern in the slightest. Jesus said what he said and I believe him. Either he was right or he wasn't. Either my beliefs are correct or I am wrong. Regardless, it is my duty and honor to love others.

  Have a happy Easter folks. Remember, nobody ever became a Christian because you complained that they only come to church on Christmas and Easter. Huzzah!

Peter

  Peter and I go way back. He was a fisherman, a fighter, and very opinionated. He had a bad case of foot in mouth disease. He was brash and temperamental. He was a passionate bear of a man.

  I relate to Peter because I am all of those things, and more. I liked it when he would argue with Jesus. I enjoy the accounts of his betrayal. I marvel at him when he naval gazes while Jesus offers to forgive him. I am shocked that he didn't ask the writers of the new testament to not include all his blunders. I suppose that he wasn't worried about his reputation, rather he just wanted to give his sworn testimony. Still, I would have told Matthew not to write that slanderous stuff, Peter didn't.

  Easter was a time of torment for Peter. He spent the previous couple of days telling Jesus that Jesus was wrong about everything. He vowed to fight to the end for this political messiah that he thought he was promised. When that failed, he disavowed any knowledge of Jesus and cursed at him. He watched all his dreams of the previous 3 years die on a cross. He was a man of guilt and shame, and he had lost his way.

  Some time before Easter Peter was on a mountain with the boys when he saw Jesus transfigured. This scene of Jesus in all his Majesty was so powerful that Peter wanted to erect a church right on the spot! It says that he had no idea what to say, so he said the church thing. Silly boy.

  But that's me. Moments of great growth or spiritual understanding are wonderful, but I often want to capture the lightning. I want to freeze joy and suck ever last drop out of it. I try and box God in.

  This relationship with God is a wild thing. He is an untameable God. He chooses the whacky and downhearted to display power.

  As I reflect on the events of the first Easter and how Peter reacted, I consider my own shortcomings. I am not a good representative of Christ. I run away and hide when things get tough. I deny even knowing Him. I run away and go back to work. Just like Peter.

  I am so grateful that none of this relationship relies upon me. I can't be good enough to merit any favor from God. I can't be bad enough to overpower the forgiveness bought at the cross.

  Happy Easter