Holiday Season

The Holidays are quickly approaching, and I'm as cynical as ever, if not more so. Thanksgiving is out of the way, and while I didn't hear from the girls the night of, I did get to talk to them the next day. I miss them, and always will. I'll miss the people they were, and I'll miss them changing into the women they'll become. Maybe not completely, but enough of the process that I don't know if they'll still seem like "mine". Still, it could be worse, with everything else wrong, at least I'm comfortably warm, most of the time, and despite no car, or license, or job, or material possessions (what I own fits in half of a duffel bag), I'm at least relatively comfortable, and in relatively good health.

To change gears a bit, I had a great time last night, a winter bonfire, lots of discussion, mostly about nothing, and towards the end, after I went back inside, a riveting discussion with an intelligent lovely young lady. When I was stationed in Kuwait I had the opportunity to go to Egypt, Jordan and Israel on a tour, and I've been able to tell my friends about it, but never really discuss it with anyone but my friend Chuck, who went with me, and actually gets the credit for planning and organizing the trip. Well, she had the opportunity to study abroad with BYU and travel the Holy Land as well, (and Egypt), and so we were able to talk about it quite a bit last night, it was wonderful. It gives me hope at a time where it's been largely absent in my life. There's a lot to mourn still, and a lot of things that are still overpowering me with hopelessness... simply too much of the elephant to eat (one bite at I time, I know, but I like to step back and measure progress, and it's agonizingly little, and slow). Anyway, she's a fan of Shel Silverstein (who isn't?) a teacher, at least for the rest of the year, well educated, and someone I feel is an intellectual equal, and that makes me want to be better spiritually. I don't expect it to advance, or become a relationship or anything like that, but I do have an idea of where to be looking, and the caliber of woman I'm interested in.

She was also annoyed/embarrassed/reminded of a painful situation when another person there asked if she had been married before, she reluctantly admitted that yes, she was divorced, and I was quick to assure her that I felt there was no issue with that. I understand the stigma within the church, people always question what you did wrong to cause it, especially in a high LDS area, less so where they're more separated and there's less of a "mormon culture" around. I don't know for sure the source of her discomfort with the question, and I won't know until she decides to illuminate me, not something I'll push for, because I know how that can feel if you're not ready to share. I don't know that we'll ever get to that point, and I'm ok with that. I just want... well improvement in my situation, a finalizing of the divorce, (4 1/2 years it's been)... I'll consider trying to make it more once I'm free. until then, it's a dishonesty I'm not willing to commit again. I know the reason my ex hasn't signed anything is because it's still the ONE thing she still has that gives her any power over me. I'm hoping there will be some legal option here to finalize things, whether or not she wants to sign.

Happy Thanksgiving

In years past the extended family (uncles, aunts, cousins, etc) would gather at my grandparents farm, 40+ people getting together for the holiday complete with kids tables, card games after-wards, sometimes necessary farm work like branding and castrating cattle (because the manpower was ready and available), usually that part was done before dinner. But I have some great memories of Thanksgivings at my grandparents. That changed when my Grandpa died and more and more of us began drifting father and farther from home.

The last 4 years I had my daughters for part of the day, and my ex would have them the other part, we would do things like go to the church for a dinner for families or individuals without family in the area, or if that wasn't an option, I would get a healthy choice dinner, turkey and gravy, potatoes, and green-beans with cranberries while the girls went with the ex for dinner. Depressing as hell, especially since most of my friends had family and weren't really able or willing to hang out while I had some free time.

This year... well, my grandma's in a home, as far as I know there's no plan for any kind of gathering for the holiday, and I'm 2500 miles from my kids. I'm not looking forward to this Thursday.

Musing musingly about muses

I've been saying for a long time now that I'm still madly in love with the person I thought my ex-wife was. That person never existed, except in my own mind, which was incredibly painful during the breakup when it was no longer something I could kid myself into believing. I've found myself musing over things we did, or enjoyed together that weren't horrible, we were an "us" for 4 years, they were very rough times, but I was able to eke out a general happiness.

The things that I loved about her, well, there was a playfulness about her a lot of the time, I'm probably remembering it more than it ever actually existed, but it was there. We had a lot of similar tastes in movies, not totally, but enough so that we generally always enjoyed movies the other did. Similar family values, the idea of putting a senior relative in a nursing home, fighting over an inheritence, removing the stone from an heirloom ring and having it placed in a new setting just to have it look more fashionable, etc etc. All of these were anathema to us. We were the same age, so we experienced a lot of the same pop culture, and could relate a lot on those levels. Musically, we adapted to each other's tastes, I added some punk to my lineup, and she added a lot of country. Religious, well, I baptised her and thought she had the same goals I did, (me) getting the Melchizedek priesthood, and both of us getting sealed in the temple to our children. Hobbies, before the pony craze, we were pretty similar, and gaming (RPG's) was a pretty big part...

But of course, much of the more important (to me) pieces were an illusion, either facilitated by her (as in the case of religion), or self delusion (roleplaying games) She took the opportunity to turn every single game session of the last year into an evening long battle. Religion, well, she never stopped her witchcraft dabbling, using it a number of times to try to kill myself or persons I knew... As well as a number of other things, none of them savory. So much for getting to the Temple together. She always had money for her hobbies, her my little pony collection and her modifications, which is a uniquely female aspect of the nostalgic hording. Men want collectors items from their past, women take the arts and crafts and scrapbooking obsessions and apply them to things they loved as children. To be fair, I made sure I spent enough money on my own hobbies to keep a relative balance, at least enough so that I didn't feel it was an unfair imbalance.

There were other things of course. She never forgave me for cheating on her when we were engaged, and that colored everything for her afterwards. She stopped loving me then, and never again started. When her parents filed for custody of Justice, she saw in me a useful tool for getting her back, and she fucked that up terribly, and today, 8 years later, still doesn't have custody. But That failure she blames on me, my job was sufficient to meet our financial needs, but not much more, and generally we had to rely on my 401K, and a second job in order to stay on top of things. While she would spend her days in a depression she'd expect me to take over 100% of the housework when I got home, including cleaning the day's messes, caring for the children, cooking dinner, etc etc. I never had a problem chipping in and helping, but walking through the door was not a signal that I'm on duty now and she's off for the night. That's not a partnership, which is what I wanted from her. I know the home was stressful, but I took every chance I could to give her a chance away with her friends...

I don't know. I tried, but so much of it was self delusion for a person I thought I saw in her, that she never was, never planned to be, and never wanted to be. I don't know what she saw in me, if she saw anything at all. She made comments about how she'd have sex with me once a month or so, so that I'd do much more than my share around the house, she made comments about having my youngest daughter so that she could get more from me in child support when she divorced me, etc etc. It hurts because even though I know a lot of it was illusion, it was some of my happier times in life. It didn't compare to being a single father, those times were sheer bliss and made the marriage seem like the hollow shell it was. But it's a totally different relationship dynamic. I did everything as a single parent because I had to, I didn't expect a partner, and consequently, I didn't have to clean up for anyone else who had been making messes while I was at work. Things at the home were exactly the way I left them (for better or worse).

Part of that also bothers me. Because I've gotten used to not having to deal with other people and their needs or wants, taking care of messes in my own time and way, reacting the way I wanted to. It makes me wonder how compatible that is with a potential spouse, because lets face it, every courtship is both a relationship and an interview for the job of wife and mother. I don't like myself, haven't since the end of January, and that makes me wonder how another person can. It makes me resent the people that do, because I don't feel worthy of love, which must mean there's some kind of defect in them, and if there's a defect in them, then they don't live up to my standards, which I also don't live up to, so I respect them and me less.

It's a mess, and so am I. I've fallen so far I don't see a way out of the pit. I've heard from two different people that my problem is entirely my drive and intelligence, turned inward and working to destroy me. I have no external focus for it. I have a few projects to occupy me, and I spasmodically focus on them for a day or two, then ignore them until I pick them up again, it's the same with the job search. I work on it for an hour or two a week, then drop it and find something better to do. It's a deadly malaise, and my depression is killing me. I know it, I can feel it. It's slower than the pills would have been back in July, but it's really just a downward spiral I can't bring myself to care about enough to try to climb out of.

I hate psychoanalyzing myself... I was going to check into a hospital for a few days last week, get some intense therapy and work, but a timely email from a friend (it actually arrived right before I got in the shower before going over to the hospital) made clear that while it might help in the short term, checking out of real life in that way would only make it easier to do so again, and again, and that the stigma attached to it would, as I suspected, make it a lot harder for me to do a lot of the long-term things I need to do, like working on regaining custody, getting work, or even something simple like owning a firearm. That's a sacrifice I'm not willing to make for some short term peace of mind. And so I'm working with outpatient therapy, which has next to no stigma anymore, can do a lot more for me, without damaging my goals, desires, and needs.

We all fall down

So yeah, today started OK, the constant pain that has been my personal hell for the last 3 weeks is gone. First gout then an infected tooth that I had to have pulled. I got started on building a D&D character with my little brother, then we went and helped a family move, mostly loading up a truck. Got back, and looked through the mail, there was a letter for me from the girls. I still haven't talked to them since Erilyn had her appendix removed, so it was kind of a shock. Inside were their school pictures, Erilyn looking enough like her mother to worry me Carol and Brenna looking like they hadn't had any effort whatsoever put into their appearance for picture day. Needless to say, I'm grumpy about that, and then there was a letter inside.

From the girls...

From Brenna, "I love you Dad"

From Carol "I love you wile (really) moth (much) Dad"

From Erilyn "Dad I hope that I get to see you again, love your May"

The last one hammers home how empty I am without them and even now, half an hour later I can't control the tears. I need my girls, I can't live without them, and don't want to. I love them more than I can put into words and miss them more than I ever want to admit to myself.

"We all expected you to fail"

I'm sure that's not what my sister meant when she said it... Or rather not in exactly those terms. Let me go back a few months, I'd just lost everything including the girls a place to live, I'd been trying to kill myself unsuccessfully, and in a very dark place that I really haven't climbed out of, or improved much. So my sister got me a bus ticket to stay with her in Phoenix, and help her with her move to Eureka, hey it's better than sleeping in a park in central PA. So when I get there, and I'm talking to her, she says everyone who tries to do the single parent thing eventually loses it and gets completely overwhelmed, and that she, and everyone else who knows anything about my situation is amazed that it took me as long to crack under the pressure as it did.

What I heard, and still do, is "We all expected you to fail, and we're surprised it took you as long as it did to do so." I put a lot of pressure on myself to be honest. I see other people seemingly breeze through life, or at least the parts I struggle with, I look at many of the situations and problems I have and can clearly see the right solution. I don't always act on that information, but I generally know when I am and am not doing the things that will move me forward.

I can see how the decisions I made brought me to this point, I could see it as it happened. How can I forgive myself for a poor decision I made when I knew it was a poor decision. And when I look at how high the cost is, how can I not look at my sister's statement and not see it as "we all knew you were gonna fuck up in a major way eventually."

I've always been my own harshest critic, it's why I stopped going to church ten years ago. I made some decisions, didn't want to stop what I was doing, couldn't forgive myself for them, and refused to be a hypocrite by continuing to go as though I was doing everything right. At the moment, I want to crawl into a bottle and forget my life, because I see nothing in it worth dwelling on.

A blog about nothing

It's been two weeks since I updated, and things are more or less static. Still out of work, but I've got more applications in. Still sleeping on my parents couch. Still don't have a license. Still don't have my girls. Still don't have a relationship... Haven't talked to my friends, other than random messages on FB, in a while... Brad's party I think was the last time, and that was Labor Day. Still not sure why I'm still here.

I hate this. I hate having lost every single thing in my life that made it worthwhile.

Years ago, a friend asked me what I would grab if a fire was destroying my house. My answer was my children, and he asked about necessities, important documents, clothing, food supplies. And I replied that all of that could be replaced, or were simply material possessions, and not that important. Some would have varying degrees of difficulty to replace, but it could be done. Family was the important and irreplaceable piece of the puzzle. He looked at me oddly and said I was a very eclectic person. It's true. But that's not really relevant.

The thing that hurts me the most, is not all that I've lost, but that I've lost all. The irreplaceable part of my life was wrenched from me 2 1/2 months ago. I wasn't there for Erilyn's 8th birthday, or her appendix having to be removed 2 days later. I'm not there for them at all.

When my ex-wife and I separated, there were 3-4 weeks when I didn't see my girls, till now, that had been the worst time of my life. At great personal expense, that made sure I couldn't pay other bills and expenses, I got them enrolled in daycare, so that I could see them for a few minutes every single weekday. Later, when the temporary custody order got hammered out I kept them in daycare because seeing them every Wednesday and every other weekend was not and could never be enough for me. I love my little ladies, and there is no pain greater than being apart from them.

A friend observing them over several months, and years was amazed at how I took 3 ill-mannered, brutish, undisciplined monsters and turned them into functioning, thriving, young ladies. A change he had thought impossible. And now they're back with the woman who had made them what they were, and who will destroy their lives and futures.

And I don't care enough to care. Everything that was ripped away from me beat me down and made me miserable, but I could smile, and work towards a light in the tunnel, for my girls. I had a reason, and a purpose to exist. July 12th, one week after I turned 30, when everything good in my life disappeared, I was arrested and sent to jail for 4 days in lieu of $1500+ of traffic fines (my vehicle was still impounded, and I still lost my Drivers License for close to a year and a half), I also lost my slot in a shelter, which would have kept us off the street and provided some stability, but the worst, was that children and youth took my children from me, with me in tears, them confused, and scared, and I knew that everything worthwhile in my life was leaving in the car with them. If I think about it, I hurt and ache in ways that are unimaginable if you haven't been in the same situation. I can't explain it better than I have above, I need my kids. Mrs. Doubtfire seems like a totally reasonable and rational solution, because I need my kids, and I can understand how Robin Williams' character felt. Never being absent from their lives for a single day, to never, or rarely seeing them is a pain unfathomable to others outside the situation.

I try my best to ignore it. I shut myself off. I disappear into my computer, or a book, or a movie, or whatever other distraction I can muster, because I can't deal with my life. It's too much, and it hurts too damn much. I talked to the girls on Erilyn's birthday, and to Erilyn the day her appendix was removed, and one other day. That's it. 3 times in 2 1/2 months. And I walk around stores finding myself looking at/for things they would enjoy, because I'm totally wrapped around their fingers and spoil them ridiculously. And every time I do, I catch myself and have to remind myself that, no, you can't. They aren't yours anymore. The 3 people I built my life around are gone, and I don't think I'll ever see them again.

I may meet Erilyn, Carol, and Brenna again, but not until after my ex has warped them from who and what they are/were. They won't be "my girls" anymore.

I try to ignore the pain. But it's there, waiting and lurking, and I wonder, why in the fucking hell did I have to puke up the sleeping pills and tylenol. Why couldn't I have just drifted off blissfully instead of having to bear the twisting of the knife. The pain doesn't get easier to bear, I don't get comfort from anything. I'm angry. I'm hurt. I'm empty inside. And I don't want to feel anything. Ever again.

9 years.

It's been 9 years since September 11th. I was at work, at the Army War College art department working on a project, when one of the artists in the next room came in and said one of the world trade center towers had just been hit by a jet, there was still a lot of confusion, and I came out and watched on CNN as the second plane hit, and knew that it couldn't possibly have been an accident for both planes to hit in quick succession. I watched for about ten more minutes before going back to my desk and pulling up the live video feed online.

A short time later (though time was crawling that day) the Pentagon was hit, and shortly after THAT, the towers fell. We were called by our NCO's and told to contact any family we might need to in order to reassure them of our safety (we were several hours drive from NYC and 2 1/2 from DC, but it's always nice to know that family is safe during that kind of chaos). I called my parents and actually woke them up, letting them know that I was safe, and told them to check the news. A few hours later, we had a meeting at the company HQ, where the events were discussed as well as the events that would soon occur. The post was closed for the rest of the week, nobody on or off, all services were closed, all nonessential personnel were sent home, and we were issued our M16's (but no ammo) and guards were placed around the base, the power plant, the water treatment plant, certain buildings with strategic importance, we even had a few snipers set up.

And the rest of us were put on rotating patrol duty, patrolling the post, and keeping people out. I understand a reporter from the local paper tried to sneak on, and was apprehended and ejected with police help. The next few days were a blur of guard duty, and rest, and for 5 months after that, after the post was reopened and things returned to a semblance of order, 12 hour guard shifts were a regular part of duty, checking vehicles for explosives, all visitors for ID, etc.

Many people have said "if you do this" or "if you don't do that" the terrorists have won. Well, I hate to say it, but in the 4 planes and 3 successful attacks, they did win. Life hasn't ever been the same, if only in that we're far more conscious of security, and we accept many more steps in community safety (metal detectors at all courthouses for instances), greatly changed aircraft security measures, etc. They briefly awoke the sleeping bear of the American people, and I'm proud to say that the soldiers and sailors defending us are still wide awake. And we didn't submit to their will, but so much of our lives have been changed in so many big and little ways that you can't with a straight face say they didn't have a major victory on 9/11/2001