The Fallen Angels of Our Nature

"You start with something pure, something exciting.  Then come the mistakes.  The compromises.  We create our own demons."  -Iron Man 3

Yeah I just quoted something pseudo-philosophical from a superhero movie.  Sue me.

I sit here thinking about my past relationships and how I got to the point I'm at now.  I know it's beating a dead horse, but I don't really have anything else to do.  Relationships start off in a grand way.  I remember meeting my ex-wife in the hallways of high school and being amazed at having a real relationship for the first time.  I remember my wedding day and not knowing that I was supposed to look at her when I said my vows.  I remember the hundreds of conversations I had with the love of my life.  I remember pulling a cramp when I woke up in the mornings in such a hurry to get to the phone to read her emails.  I remember when we first shared our feelings for each other...  "What would you say if I told you that I loved you?"  I remember meeting my current wife for the first time.  I remember seeing her walk out of that apartment on our first meeting...  eating bbq with her, then walking around a mall for an hour.  I remember waiting on her to get out of the bathroom for the fifth time and thinking, "You know, as much as this used to annoy me with my ex-wife, I don't mind it at all now."

But then the mistakes started.  In my first marriage I was careless and selfish.  I didn't give enough attention to her feelings or spend enough time with her.  I didn't take her out to eat or treat her like a lady or even act like a man myself.  With my life's love...  I failed her in her time of need.  Oh God, when she needed me the most, I wasn't there and I think about that every fucking day.  I can't forgive myself for that.  She was sitting at the parking lot of my apartment complex, and I wasn't there intentionally...  she needed her best friend and I FAILED.  In my current marriage, I don't think I did much of anything wrong besides marry her in the first place.  I honestly don't have a lot of other regrets.  I fixed the things I was doing wrong in my previous marriage and was actually a solid human being for once.  I put up with a whole lot of shit (including being followed around by stalkers and threatened by a madman) and still ended up this way.  But I read something the other day that fits here perfectly...  when you end up with someone like this who's completely different than the person you originally married, then you can't feel too badly.  You married someone else.  That person just happens to not exist.  Such is life.

But as my friend pointed out on Friday, a lot of people (including her) would be jealous of my life.  She said, "You got to come visit us, and now you're about to head back, play your portal game, buy a brisket sandwich, get a bottle of wine, and watch Iron Man 3 by your fireplace in peace.  Then you're going to spend tomorrow playing video games all day.  A lot of people would kill to do that."  I thought about it, and she's right.  I did all those things.  I watched football, I read my Sunday newspaper, I made divinity, I gamed it up, I talked to some good friends.  If you'd asked me during my first marriage, I'd have said that this was the perfect life.  I guess I'll live with it for now, not that I have much choice in the matter.

The reason I'm here, though...  is due to a long string of problems created by yours truly.  In some form or another, I put myself on this path.  These demons...  yeah, they're mine.

The Measure of a Man

"Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you.  You just gotta find the ones worth suffering for."  -Bob Marley

Every single day, all throughout the day, I wonder what's wrong with me.  As in, not physically or mentally, but I wonder why I lack worth to others.  For as bad as I am sometimes, I don't think I'm THAT bad.  I do attach some measure of value to myself.  I can sometimes become...  overly negative...  but that's not all of me.  It's not even most of me!  In person I'm a pretty fun guy to be around.  I try to make people happy, make them laugh, and brighten their day.  I seem to succeed at that, or at least I thought I did.

Yet every time I get in a relationship, people run away from me.  It's not like they even have to consider whether they should stay with me because they're too busy sprinting the other way.  I understand that I got conned in this marriage, and I guess I just can't fathom how people work.  I can't imagine dedicating two years of my life to tricking another person into having a baby and feeling NO remorse for it.  Is the failing mine or hers?  In my last marriage, my ex-wife walked away pretty quickly and filed for divorce without a second thought.  When I was with my life's love, she also had the chance to run with me but chose not to (granted, she didn't walk away so much as get forced away, but the result was still the same since she didn't have to stay).  Since this keeps happening, I can only conclude that I have no worth to others, or at least not enough to matter.

It's the same way at work...  there's not a lot of value attached to me.  I know that I don't make nearly as much as the guys around me, and I've been there longer than most of them.  When I say things and make suggestions, nobody (at least outside of my department) listens to me or takes me seriously.  

Why?  I ask myself that question a million times a day.  How can I fix it?  I'm obviously doing something wrong.  I don't want to be worthless...  I want to add value to things.  To people's lives, to work, to everything.  I'm about to have a son, and I CAN'T STOP BREAKING THINGS.  He'll be here in less than a month, and I don't have answers.  How can someone like me...  someone who screws everything up and fails at everything in life...  how can I be a parent and role model?  I don't think that I can.  Sometimes I want to quit so badly...  because I don't have answers anymore.

Visions of Grandeur

"'Only the great of heart may despair greatly.'  All that malice and contempt is just love and hope and eagerness gone wrong.  It gives us the chance to do better...  In any case, taking a stand against it is what makes us who we are.  When we don't, we aren't anything.  We're just empty."  -Thomas Covenant

Well, I finally finished the Thomas Covenant Chronicles.  It's been a long ride, but it's finally over.  I can't say that the ending was spectacular, but I don't think anything could have lived up to the hype in my brain.  Still, there was one final good quote that made me think...  and it followed along the lines of what I've been thinking lately anyway.

All of the pain of living...  the pain of past decisions, of being wrong...  it gives us the chance to do better.  It gives us the chance to do something different.

I've always aspired to greatness in the things I do.  I imagine myself accomplishing things.  When I hear my Japanese teacher speaking fluent Japanese to a sushi chef, I think about how I'll be able to do that someday.  When I see dads taking their kids places, I think about how I'll be able to do that someday.  I see people like my boss, an expert in his field, and I think about how I want to catch up to his knowledge.  I see happily married couples, and I want to join them.  I have no choice.  My aspirations won't let me be anything other than what I am.

On many days I wake up in despair...  it hits me fairly often.  Heck, it's usually when I end up posting on here.  But I have to fight, and I do that by setting goals and pressing toward them.  I have a personality type that demands goals.  If I'm not working toward something, I feel like I'm wasting my time...  even if it's visiting a grocery store everyday to try to reconnect with my best friend.

In the end, life doesn't mean anything.  I said that in one of my previous posts.  In a hundred years, nobody will care that I've failed, but until then, I owe it to myself to keep fighting.  I've tried and failed at most everything I've done, but that doesn't mean I have to fail in the future.  I could still be a successful dad, I could find myself in a happy relationship...  I could visit Japan or teach at SQL Pass.  I could win the lottery.  I could find my best friend again.  I could accomplish greatness.  It's all very unlikely, but anything could happen.  My life has proven that so far.

"Happy" Holidays

As a bipolar guy, I hate having to deal with my two extreme aspects.  I especially hate the one I am now...  the one who's devoid of hope and full of despair.  I knew it was coming, but I'm still powerless to stop it.  There's no amount of logic in the world to stop either one of them.

I just wanted to put up my Christmas tree.  My parents were nice enough to bring my tree from their storage yesterday, and since I'm off work today, I figured I'd put it up a little early.  I was afraid it would happen...  I'm not strong enough to handle this either.  The last few years of holidays have not been kind to me.  Three years ago my ex-wife kicked me out of the house before divorcing me.  Two years ago I was living alone in my apartment, and I had to deal with putting up my tree and getting rid of all the ornaments that belonged to my ex-wife.  Last year I didn't get to put up a tree in my tiny apartment, which was depressing enough, but I also lost my best friend, which took an unimaginable toll on me.  This year I'm alone again, and I have to once again deal with getting rid of the ornaments that belonged to my soon-to-be-ex-wife.  My Mom was always so accepting and loving of my current wife and her son...  she was happy to have a family and always treated them well.  She loved buying things for them, and she bought them ornaments to celebrate each Christmas they were in the family.  It makes me sadder for my Mom than it does for me losing my wife and stepson.  My Mom is special to me, and even though she hates my wife now, I know that deep down she's sad as well.

I remember a time that Christmas was happy and special.  As a kid, I always looked forward to putting up the tree.  I'd count down the days weeks in advance.  We always put it up the day after Thanksgiving...  such a fun tradition.  My favorite part was putting on the "icicles."  It was always funny to see my parents get so frustrated putting up the lights (a process that now frustrates me as I do it by myself), then it was time for the ornaments.  Last my Dad would bring out the paper sack filled with tiny, sparkling strands of...  something.  I actually have no idea what it's made out of, but it catches the light and sparkles.  Regardless, putting up the tree was special.  It was my favorite time of year.  What the hell happened?

Being a kid is so full of innocence.  Adulthood sucks.  I want the holidays to be full of magic again, not loneliness and despair.  My doctor (who's the greatest guy in the world, by the way) wants me to see him more this month because holidays are a source of sadness for people like me.  It isn't supposed to be this way.  This is not what life is supposed to be...  But it's about to get worse, and I have no idea how to fix it.

Happy fucking holidays.

Discipline

"Discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishments."  -Jim Rohn

People can say what they want about me...  they can berate me for not being one way or another, they can criticize me for being overly strict or too rigid or whatever they think.  Just like the old football saying "Defense wins championships," I have one to add...  Discipline leads to success.  Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do to accomplish greater things down the road.  I foolishly married a white trash woman who can't understand this concept.  And because she couldn't understand it, she quit her job and left me.

I made some delicious tiramisu for a work potluck today.  It took a fair amount of effort last night...  grinding the beans, brewing the espresso, whipping the cream, making that awesome egg yolk custard, and all that jazz.  So today I got home with the empty dish, after only eating a few bites of the dessert myself, and I said, "Well that was a lot of effort for nothing."  Then I kicked myself (figuratively) and realized that it wasn't for nothing.  People got to eat something tasty, and TONS of people complimented me on it!  Was it absolutely thrilling making it?  Well I was drinking wine, and I find a lot of joy in cooking, but I'm sure there were more enjoyable things I could have been doing.  Yet tiramisu doesn't make itself, so I had to sacrifice a little.

Just now I did some P90X Ab Ripper.  I remember the first time I did Ab Ripper...  I got a quarter of the way done and crumpled over.  I tore a muscle and couldn't unbend from a 90 degree angle.  My ex-wife basically had to carry me to the bathtub and run me a hot bath.  About 20 minutes in there and I could finally lay back.  I was in ridiculous amounts of pain for weeks.  Basically, it was bad, and people laughed at me.  They told me that me doing P90X would never happen, like I was some kind of bad joke.  They didn't give me a chance.  And now here I am, doing P90X all the time, bench pressing considerably more than my weight, doing pull ups and hanging leg raises and all kinds of crazy shit that I couldn't do before.  I started with 15 push ups.  I can now do 60-70 depending on the day.  I started with 5 pull ups.  I can now do 15 if my old rotator cuff injury will let me (I do admit that P90X is dangerous).  I have no idea how many sit ups I can do, but it's well past 70.  When I started, I was a guy who had eaten at Popeye's everyday for a year, and I had ridiculously high blood pressure and bad cholesterol.  And now I'm here, eating healthy food, on a quarter of the dose of blood pressure meds I was on, 25 pounds lighter, and in great shape.  I had my annual physical yesterday, and the doctor said my numbers were quite literally perfect (except that I could stand to gain a little more weight, but still).  You know I got here?  Hint: it wasn't by sitting on my ass.  It wasn't eating whatever I wanted...  I had to give up the daily Cokes and sweets and my beloved morning Pop Tarts.  I had to give up my amazing fried chicken and fries.  It takes work.  Discipline.  All I ever heard from my soon-to-be-ex-wife was how much she wanted to lose weight and how she missed being thin.  Gee, I wonder how you'd accomplish that?  Hint: not by eating my entire fucking box of Honey Nut Cheerios while I'm asleep at night...  not by draining my WHOLE brand new jar of Nutella while I'm at work, after it's been in our house for less than 24 hours...  and not by sneaking a box of graham crackers down your throat while I'm not looking.  Idiot.

Just thinking about it, I was also getting pissed at some of the things I've done that have gone unappreciated.  I always hear about how women like men who do things around the house and help them out.  Surveys say that many/most women think their husbands should do more to help with childcare and household work.  In both of my marriages, I've always been top notch at stuff like this, and I never got any credit for it.  I thought I could do things right in this marriage, even though I could tell that my wife didn't love me.  On my Fridays off, I'd make sure to have the house spotless (like hardcore cleaning) when she got home, food waiting on the table, laundry done, groceries bought...  usually even a little surprise like some cinnamon or pumpkin bread or a glass of wine waiting as well.  Sometimes I'd try to surprise her by cleaning the apartment while she was asleep so she wouldn't have to worry herself with it on her weekends. And this is in addition to the mowing and yardwork that I did.  Occasionally I might have gotten a halfhearted thanks, but usually it went largely ignored.  Hey, I guess that's better than my ex-wife, who just called me a pansy for doing housework.  Even so, the thing that sticks out to me the most is one of the last times we had together (well, it was a few weeks before she left).  It was my usual Friday off, but I was deathly sick.  My fever got up to 104, and it was BAD.  I couldn't walk across the room to make myself a sandwich; I got halfway there and had to sit down because I couldn't hold myself up.  I had to get on a work conference call at midday, and I was seriously barely conscious.  I slept for hours and woke up still unable to move.  I felt bad because the house was a mess, but I couldn't do anything about it.  So she walks in at the end of the day and says, "The house is a mess."  She hasn't seen me yet, so before I respond, she walks around the corner and says, "What's wrong with you?"  I tell her how sick I am and show her the thermometer.  For reasons I can't fathom, she seems angry that I'm sick...  she makes a face and yells, "Why haven't you cleaned the cat litter?  You know that smell makes me sick!"  That did it.  My vision whited out, and I'm ashamed of how I responded, but when you're in that condition, you tend to be a little irritable.

So now I'll STILL exceed expectations by RAISING MY SON MYSELF.  You know why?  Because I'm disciplined.  I'm focused.  And I deserve more credit than I get, from myself as much as others.  I don't always do the hard things when I need to.  I should have been the one leaving that white trash behind instead of waiting for her to leave me.  It's a hard thing to do, even when someone treats you like that, but sometimes you have to look past the present.  It takes discipline.  I wish I could have convinced my old lover of that.  Sometimes it's best to let go of a marriage to open up better opportunities.  There's no point in staying with a person who doesn't truly care about you...  only bad things can come from it.  I should have taken my own advice months ago.  Even so, it's now time for me to face life alone, unless "some wonder is wrought to redeem me."  I'll continue holding fast to my goals and my dreams, and I'll raise my son right.  I'll succeed in the things I can control, and for the things I can't control....  well, I'll just stay disciplined.  "Attempts must be made, even when there can be no hope."

Echoes of Laughter

"Did I do a life's worth of laughing in such a short time?"  -Thomas Covenant

People keep telling me about how strong I'm being...  like I'm some kind of warrior in the face of my disastrous life.  I used to think of myself that way too, a tough guy who would get stronger every time I overcame adversity.  In truth, I'm just a fool who continues to get the shit kicked out of him each day because of my stupid actions.  Every single thing wrong with me is a direct result of my failures and bad decisions.  Isn't there supposed to be more to life than pain?  Isn't there more to existence than going to bed early and waking up with a sickening, nauseous twist as you realize that you have to live through another day?  Is THAT strength?  Is forcing myself to get out of bed being strong?  Does it make me a tough guy to sleep and drink the day away?

It wasn't always this way.  I was happy once.  I found a poem I wrote once...  once upon a time when I was in another world.  I was a different person back then, and I highly doubt that I'll be that person again.  I'll post it here in the off chance that I ever lose it.  It's a relic from a special time in my life that I can't get back despite my best efforts...

Realization.

It's a wonderful thing

To have an epiphany,

Something to make you reconsider

All that you thought you knew

Yet were so blissfully unaware of.

Revelation.

You open your mind's eye

To things previously unseen,

Things that you thought obvious,

Yet here they are

Pure and unadulterated in their glory.

Inspiration.

As light dawns on your understanding,

You see how clearly

You are in love.

Yes, love.  The world's greatest feeling.

The cornerstone of wonderful things.

Dedication.

And then you realize how much you care.

You see that even on your worst of days

You'd rather be with her

Than with anyone else on their best day.

Your heart yearns to be always by her side.

Education.

Learning is an interesting process,

Especially when you think you know it all.

Where I once was sure that love stories

Were fairy tales written by fools,

I have found myself to have been utterly mistaken.

Satisfaction.

And here we come to the point to be made:

I AM LIVING a love story.  Everyday.

I can taste, touch, smell my Princess.

I need make no conquest for her love

Because it overwhelms me daily, in every way.

Gratification.

I can't even write this poem with a dry eye

Because no matter how hard I try,

I cannot find even one way

In which I am worthy to receive her.

Yet she gives herself to me over and over.

Action.

Every day I will tell her what she means

To me, as lowly a person as I am.

I literally can't tell her enough.  Ever.

Her worth cannot be measured

By any scale that mortal minds could conceive.

Resolution.

I will chase her and follow her

To the ends of the earth and back,

If that would ensure that she would be mine.

So how will this story end?  What future awaits?

The rest of this love story is ours for the telling.

And I'm feeling a sudden desire to write.

It's hard to believe that that was me.  I was high on a cloud...  invincible.  The guys at work always say that I should have been a writer.  They have no idea.  I was capable of so much...  and now here I sit, staring at a bottle of wine that I can't open because she took my corkscrew, longing to not be sober.  According to the internet, I can use a screw and a pair of pliers, but I don't even have a fucking screw.  But honestly, seeing how my life has gone lately, that's not really surprising.

Did I do a life's worth of laughing in such a short time?  Probably.  It wasn't nearly long enough.  I want to laugh again.  I'm not strong.  And I can't do this for much longer.

Life and Such

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."  -Robert Frost

I've been contemplating the meaning of the eternal question...  what's the point of life?  I once asked my friend that, and he responded, "My only answer is to make it through each day and try to make the people around me a little happier in the process."  That's always seemed like a good answer to me, but it's not enough.  It's not enough because I'm apparently incapable of making the people around me happy.  If that were my sole purpose in life, then I might as well kill myself, because I'm a failure.  Some say that I will find purpose in my son, but I remain unconvinced.  That will be a part of my life, no doubt, but that also doesn't seem like the whole answer.

Right now I live solely to please other people.  As in, I know that my not being alive would make some people really sad, and I don't have a desire to hurt anyone.  But because of that, I have to find something to live for.  At this moment I don't even know how I would define a "win condition."  I have no goals.  For the past 15 years or so, my goal has been to get married and have a family.  Boy did I fuck that up.  I'm honestly not sure how I could have fucked that up any worse.  Granted, some of it (or most of it) wasn't exactly my fault, but I still made the decisions that led to all of this nonsense.  I couldn't have been taken advantage of if I hadn't put myself in that position.

So on the way home today, I was asking myself...  What do I want now?  My answer was, surprisingly, the same as it's always been.  I want a family.  I want to come home to people whom I love...  and people who love me.  I want to go to little league games, piano recitals, dance lessons, gymnastics...  I want to eat around the dinner table and share stories from our day...  I want to go to the zoo and the park and the museum and have a good time...  I want to live.  I've been told by my estranged wife that all of that stuff is "superficial bullshit" (that's an exact quote), but she is at least somewhat wrong.  My answer is that LIFE is pointless bullshit.  The lives we live and the things we do...  it means nothing!  At some point in the future, every one of us will be dead and gone, and at some point after that, someone on earth will speak our name for the very LAST time.  At some point, someone will think of us for the very last time, and everything we've ever done will be inconsequential.

But you know what?  While I'm still alive, there are some things that are important to ME, and I have the right to believe in them.  Importance does have a scale.  A coworker asked me what my future plans were the other day, and I responded that I intended to live out my life and die alone.  He thought that answer was insane.  When pressed, I admitted that there was one person in the world whom I would trust enough to have a relationship but that I was pretty sure she was no longer interested.  He said, "So you just intend to sit around all alone for the rest of your life and play video games?"  When he put it that way, it sounded a lot less appealing.  That's what started me on this train of thought.

I have to find better answers.  I have to find better answers for my son.  I can't make any more mistakes.

And I have no idea what I'm doing.

Grief and Regret

"Grief and regret.  What else is there?  Those are just other names for love.  You can't feel bad about losing something if you don't love it first.  And if you don't love, why else would you bother to do anything at all?"  -Thomas Covenant

If it isn't obvious by now, I'm still slowly making my way through my final Thomas Covenant book.  I like this quote.  I've done quite a few things that have caused me grief and regret, but one thing stands out in particular.  I let someone get away.  I let someone get away who meant more than the world to me.  People on the outside don't understand.  To someone looking in, it would appear that I'm insane (or severely misguided at best).  I suppose that this person and I were dancing to a tune that nobody else could hear.  I miss her dearly.

But instead I find myself in this situation.  A friend and coworker dared me to sum up my life in a paragraph.  Here's my attempt:

Plagued by social anxiety from a young age, I went through much of my school life as an unknown.  Aside from a small group of close friends, most people didn't know that I existed.  Later I stumbled onto my high school sweetheart who introduced me to the Pentecostal church.  Bolstered by a new group of friends, I joined the church and the ministry, marrying the girl in the process (at the ripe old ages of 17 and 20, thanks to a "prophecy" from her father).  Four years later, I began to reexamine my life and became dissatisfied with what I had become.  I mentally left the church while physically staying active to please my wife and save my marriage.  Along the way, I met the woman who would be my life's greatest treasure and who would make me happier than anyone else could ever dream of.  Unfortunately, she was married.  Crap.  My wife eventually divorced me, at which point I consummated my romantic relationship with my love.  This went on for months until, in a fool move, I left her behind and tried my hand at an online dating site.  It was there that I met a woman who was seemingly being destroyed by a multi-millionaire after she left him while she was pregnant.  Feeling an urge to help this family, I jumped in headfirst, marrying her and fighting on her behalf.  I spent the next year fighting court battles and dodging private investigators while valiantly trying to remain sane.  And then...  surprise, here comes a baby!  That would have been great and all, but about that time my wife decided that she no longer wanted to work, so she left me and quit her job in the space of a few days.  And so here I stand, tricked into having a child and feeling like a fool for being used in such a way.  I now face the daunting task of being a single dad and figuring out how to raise a child.  Oh, and my soulmate is back in town.  Rock on.

Honestly, every time I think that something can't happen, it does.  Usually I think of it in the sense of "I wonder what's going to go wrong next," but lately I've been trying to wonder what could possibly go right.  I don't consider anything to be impossible anymore.  Everything might have gone horrifically wrong, but against all odds, I had the strangest period of happiness that a guy could ask for.  If I was a betting man, I'd never have bet a cent that that would have ever happened...  but it DID.  The part of the story that I spend all my time thinking about isn't all of the bad stuff.  It's the one bright spot in the patch of rough.

I can't fathom how much pain will be coming up for me in the next few months.  The holidays will be hard to bear.  They always seem to be over the past few years.  But by God, maybe something good will happen.  I'm tired of regrets.  Let's see some miracles happen.

The Hard Path

"We were not promised ease.  The purpose of life - if it may be said to have a purpose - is not ease.  It is to choose, and to act upon the choice.  In that task, we are not measured by outcomes.  We are only measured by daring and effort and resolve."  -Thomas Covenant Chronicles

Today has been one of the worst days of my relatively short existence.  I'd been dreading it for weeks...  dreading an idea that was a horrible one from the start.  Today I went to a parenting class with my "wife."  It was the first time I'd seen her in two months or so.  It's also more than I can bear.

I had decent hopes for the day after I woke up at 2AM to an amazing dream.  I never dream, and even when I do, I rarely have good dreams.  But any time a dream can take me back to happier times, I'll take it.  Unfortunately, it was downhill from there.  Spontaneously busting out crying during a parenting class while people look at you like you're a dumbass is just stupid and embarrassing.  I should be stronger than this.  She brought ultrasound pictures...  I can see my son's face in them, clear as day.  She was so excited and happy about the pictures and about things in general.  She couldn't fathom why I was so sad...  then afterward she hit me with logic that I simply can't understand.  On a better day, I could have refuted it and shown her how foolish it is, but that day was not today.  After I got home, I went to bed and didn't get up for four hours or so.

I've recorded future me a message.  Because future me will still be bipolar, there's a half decent chance that he might do something else stupid like this.  That can't happen.  I hope to God that I never forget the pain of this day.  If I forget, then I might end up making these mistakes again.  So if and when an opportunity for stupidity presents itself in the future, I'm going to play future me this message to remind him of the price of failure.

Another unfortunate discovery is that I'm incapable of hating her.  That's really the only thing that could have saved me from this kind of despair, and I can't do it.  I couldn't hate my ex-wife either.  I'll try to make do as best I can.

I have no idea where I am or where I'm going.  I don't know what my goal is supposed to be.  Therefore I have no idea how to get there.  I'll just try to be a Dad who isn't worthless.  I feel sorry for this kid already.

EDIT:  Aaaand I forgot to hit post last night.  So here it is, a day late.

Frayed Edges

"I'm sorry you've been through so much.  I really am.  But this is the wrong answer.  It's possible to be in pain without hating yourself and the whole world.  You don't have the right to make everybody else feel the same way you do."  -Thomas Covenant

That quote is one of the reasons I love the Thomas Covenant series so much...  it talks to me.  I'm a very negative person, and I know that.  I've never claimed to be otherwise, and it's honestly just a part of who I am.  When things happen to me...  things like the situation that I find myself in right now...  it makes me even worse.  I hate.  My one aspect hates almost anyone and everyone around me, including myself.  Granted, I don't hate my friends or family, but everyone else is fair game.

The stress is getting to me.  My edges have been fraying at work, and I'm simply worn thin.  My productivity and even my thinking skills have gown downhill, and I'm way too quick to anger.  It also hasn't helped that an old friend has returned to town and to work, and I have mixed emotions there.  Though I hate him with every bone in my body, I have no good reason for doing so, which in turn makes me loathe myself.  I've had people tell me that they've noticed a change in me, which means that I'm not doing a good enough job of keeping up my facade.  I have to try harder.

The hardest thing for me to do will be to not hate... her.  I'm not sure if I can accomplish that.  But no matter what happens, I absolutely cannot teach my son to hate.  I want my son to grow up to be a better person than I, but he'll have a big enough handicap thanks to his white trash Mom.  I have to offset that.  I have to overcome my own emotions well enough to show my son that there are good things in the world.  I rarely see them, and maybe I just don't look hard enough.  During my golden age with the love of my life, I saw good things all around me.  I wrote beautiful, eloquent poetry, I saw a bright future...  my catch phrase was that we were walking "towards an endless tomorrow."  Honestly, I wish my tomorrows had already ended, but I accept responsibility for my failure in that era of life.  Since my golden age ended, I've lost the spark, and I don't see that coming back.

But for my son...  I have to try something.  Maybe he will be the answer for me, a way to help me stop being an angry, bitter asshole.  Or I might fail him like I've failed everyone else in my life.  Flip a coin.

To Bear What Must Be Borne

Being bipolar means dealing with a disease that literally controls your life.  It's been a very hard weekend.  I've tried to offset the effects of the disease as best I can, but sometimes I'm just unsuccessful.  I try to bear the things I have to, but sometimes they drive me into the ground.  I took a look at some pages on it, and it sounds all too familiar.

A person suffering with bipolar disorder experiences two extremes with distinct signs and symptoms:

• manic episodes (excessive excitement, energy or enthusiasm)
• depressive episodes

Both mood and behavioral changes can be signs indicating someone with bipolar disorder is experiencing a manic phase or episode:

• extended periods of feeling overly happy or outgoing
• extremely irritable mood, agitation, or jumpiness
• increasing goal-directed activities
• being easily distracted
• restlessness
• behaving impulsively
• having an unrealistic belief in one's abilities

When a person suffering with bipolar disorder enters a depressive phase, the signs and symptoms create a stark contrast with the preceding manic episode:

• extended periods of feeling worried or empty
• isolation from friends and family
• loss of interest in activities once enjoyed, including sex
• feeling tired or slowed down
• having problems concentrating, remembering, and making decisions
• being irritable
• change in eating, sleeping, or other habits (including anorexia nervosa, bulimia, and other eating disorders)
• abuse of alcohol and drugs
• thinking of death or suicide, or attempting suicide

Yep, way too familiar...  I did some more reading on how difficult it can be on relationships.  I'm sure that it caused my current relationship to suffer.  Nobody can stand to be around me for very long.  I found this section that I wish people could read and understand...

Challenge: Relationships

Bipolar disorder is hard on relationships. The very symptoms – swinging moods, risky behaviors – often leave loved ones feeling confused, exhausted and like they’re walking on eggshells, Van Dijk said.

She also sees loved ones have difficulty distinguishing between the illness and the person. They might invalidate the person’s feelings and either blame everything on the illness or believe the person is making conscious choices when it is the illness.

So it’s incredibly important for loved ones to get educated about the illness and how it functions. Individual therapy, family therapy and support groups can help. Refer loved ones to self-help resources and biographies or memoirs of people with bipolar disorder, Johnson said.

Getting a handle on your emotions also improves relationships, she said. Working on assertiveness is key, too, she said. Individuals with bipolar disorder tend to have a tough time being assertive. Therapy is a good place to learn assertiveness skills. But if you’d like to practice on your own, Van Dijk suggested using “I statements”: “ I feel _____ when you ______.” She gave the following example: “I feel scared and hurt when you threaten to leave me.”

The more I read stuff like that, the more I want to be a writer.  I want to do something to help others who are going through this.  There will always be that part of me who recognizes that I'm broken.  I'm not a normal human...  not like others.  The reason my life is in shambles right now is because of the bad decisions I've made, and a lot of the bad decisions have been due to the disease.  I read on one site that people with bipolar disorder have a difficult, if not impossible, time learning from their experiences because of the fact that our different aspects preclude sound behavior.  I know I've long frustrated my friends who want to help me, and while I'm much better than I used to be, I still lapse sometimes.  It frustrates me as much as anyone, because I'm my harshest critic.  I don't want to make people miserable.  I don't want to lie around in bed all day crying.  I don't want to do stupid, impulsive shit.  But when I go through my day never knowing which of the three stupid fucks inside me I'm going to be, it's no wonder that I get myself into these messes.

Dead God, I fear for my son.  I'm already well past my limits.  In a little over two months, I'll be thrown into the ocean, and I sure as hell can't swim.

Memories

"You can take back your memories, they're no good to me." -All American Rejects

I'm sufficiently intoxicated tonight, so it's time for a blog post.  I had a random thought earlier...  I was thinking about my grandpa and how sad it must be to have Alzheimers and to know that something is happening to your mind that you can't control.  He tries to recall memories, but he just can't do it.  I was relating that with my trying to learn Japanese and becoming annoyed with how difficult it was to not be able to remember what I've learned.  How awesome would it be if we as humans could remember everything we've ever experienced.  If we heard a word in Japanese, we could remember a word in Japanese.  None of this repetition nonsense...  no having something on the tip of your tongue, only to forget at the last second.  No forgetting who your grandson is, no matter how temporary...

But then I realized...  a world in which we could never forget would be a special kind of hell.   In a way, I hate that I can't remember some things better.  I love pictures for that reason.  I've always described pictures as our way of preserving ourselves against loss.  It's a way of keeping our memories for when that person or circumstance is no longer around.  So I take my pictures and I look back through them and remember the good times.  But if I could remember each and every good time in painstaking detail, reliving each moment with perfect clarity.. I don't know that I could stand it.  I miss the good times, and I'd give anything to be able to relive those moments with the knowledge that I have now.  I'd make such better use of them.  But the experiences have faded, and without that, I'd spend every waking moment in vivid remembrance of the good times.  That's what I'm doing now, to the extent that I can.

So while it would be good to have a fast track to learning a new language, I'm not sure that it would be a good thing in the end.  Regardless, alcohol works wonders for forgetting that you're alive, at least for a little while.

The Value of Education

"[On the subject of the Taliban] But then I said, 'If he comes, what would you do Malala?'  Then I would reply to myself, 'Malala, just take a shoe and hit him.'  But then i said, 'If you hit a Talib with your shoe, then there would be no difference between you and the Talib.  You must not treat others with cruelty and that much harshly.  You must fight others, but through peace and through dialogue and through education.'  Then I said that I will tell him how important education is and that 'I even want education for your children as well.'"  -Malala Yousafzai

If you're not familiar with the story of Malala Yousafzai, then you should check it out.  It's a story that has stuck with me for over a year now...  Malala is a girl from Pakistan who has championed girls' education in the Middle East her entire life.  Unfortunately, since that region of the planet is filled with backward, worthless fools, she drew the ire of the Taliban.  Giving women an education would eventually topple the anathema that is Islam, given enough time.  As is the case with so many religions, those in power will do almost anything to retain it.

The Taliban finally came for Malala.  While she was on a bus ride home, armed men stopped the bus and shot her in the face.  Somehow the bullet missed her brain, and doctors were able to save her from near death.  Now she lives in the US where she continues her education while her family is in hiding.  She also just released a book, which is on my reading list right after the final Thomas Covenant book.

The subject of girls' education in the Middle East has been on my mind for years.  When I was married to my ex-wife, I did tons of research into adopting a girl from those troubled countries.  Unfortunately, it seems that there is not a single avenue to do so.  I just always thought that it would be great to adopt an orphaned girl from those countries and provide a better home where she could have so many more opportunities.  I really wish there was more that a person could do to help those kinds of situations, but I guess there's not...  plus I don't foresee myself running out to get shot by those nutjobs.

Nonetheless, listening to that girl speak is almost hypnotic.  It's very rare to hear a girl of her age be able to articulate things so easily and so well.  There's a great interview with Jon Stewart in which she says the quote above.  I see her and I think, "Wow, if an education under that much fire (as in, literal fire, with bombs) can produce such an amazing girl, just think of what could happen if all the girls received an education."  I don't even know why it's sat so heavily on me for years.

But even more impressive is her attitude (both then and now) toward those who were trying to kill her.  It's so hard for me to not hate those in my life who have wronged me, but they literally tried to kill this little girl and she forgives them.  I wish I could take that stance.  There are plenty of things that everyone could learn from this girl.

Choices

"We all make choices, and none of us can guess how they'll turn out.  But we have to live with the consequences anyway.  I didn't know what would happen...  but that doesn't make me any less responsible."  -Thomas Covenant

Of the people who know that I used to be a minister, very few have actually asked WHY I chose to be a minister in the first place.  I sure as hell didn't do it because I enjoyed it, because I'm shy, socially awkward, and fairly inept in front of an audience.  I definitely didn't do it for recognition either.  On the days that they would recognize the ministers from around the area, I would never stand to be acknowledged.  The real reason I chose to be a minister was to help people, and at the time, I thought that teaching them about the Bible was the best way to do that.  I was well acquainted with pain and depression, and I hated thinking about the other people who were going through stuff like that.

I was young and naive.  One of first clues I saw that religion was not for me was when I observed my fellow "ministers."  Because of my station, I got to join the inner circle of people who governed the Pentecostal church in my state, and I got to see who they truly were.  Oh sure, there were some (most of them, even) who were seriously dedicated to their faith.  They seemed to be doing the right thing for the right reasons.  But there were too many who used their positions for power or influence, for recognition, or for the almighty dollar.  The way that some of them would manipulate people was unbelievable.  The congregations (affectionately referred to as "sheep") were dependent upon these preachers for what they considered to be "good guidance," but sometimes it was anything but.

The more I saw of such things, the angrier I became.  My eyes were opened, and I gradually stepped out of my dark age.  Knowing that I was neither a sheep nor a shepherd, I went on to forge my own path.

I had good intentions at first...  hell, I had good intentions the whole time.  But in the end, I lost.  I made a decision at the time, armed with the knowledge I had back then, and I thought I was doing the right thing.  I got married, joined the ministry, and thought that I had a good life.  It wasn't until later when I separated from religion, and that part of my life disintegrated from there.  Upon our divorce, I helped my ex-wife out as best I could, and we parted ways.  Then I foolishly chose to date again, and I came face to face with my current situation.  I met a woman who was seemingly being beaten down by a really, really rich guy, and I wanted to jump in and help.  I saw a woman with a lot of potential who just needed help to get through a rough patch.  So after throwing away the person who was my life's greatest treasure (which I ALSO did with good intentions...  fuck you "good intentions"), I jumped headlong into a serious relationship with this woman...  a woman who played me like a drum.

I just tried to help.  My help was obviously not appreciated.  Every time I try to do something good, I always end up doing something bad.  Always.  I can safely say that there will be no more "good intentions" anymore, but I'll still have to live with the outcome of my upcoming decisions.  My decisions have already cost me, as well as my unborn child.  I feel stupid that I've deprived my child of a loving, two parent household.  I'll be bringing a child into this world with a divided family, and the two most important people in his life will hate each other with a passion.  Sometimes it's good for me to remember how serious my choices are and how grave the consequences can be.  Not knowing what could happen or having good intentions doesn't make me any less responsible for what happens.

I'm now deathly afraid of making decisions.  God knows I don't have much left to lose.

The Alternative to Despair

"Attempts must be made, even when there can be no hope.  The alternative is despair.  And betimes some wonder is wrought to redeem us."  -The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant

Life is full of surprises.  If you'd told me five years ago about some of the things that would happen to me, I'd have said you were insane.  My life is so unbelievable...  it's often thrown around jokingly by my boss, but I really do intend to write a book someday.  I feel that I have a fairly interesting story, at least.  I've also gained a fair amount of insight over the years, even if I don't listen to it half the time.

I keep wondering what the rest of my life will hold.  I get tired so often...  I want to quit, because in my quest for happiness, I end up finding only pain and loss.  I make stupid decisions, partly because I'm a fool and partly because there are two disparate versions of me thanks to me being bipolar.  Listening to either of the extremes is almost always a bad idea, but such is my nature.

Even so, I've wanted to give up for years now.  There have been many times that I've had no reason to keep going.  At this moment, every dream that I've ever had has been shattered.  I've always wanted to be loved, and I got that...  for a fleeting moment in a forbidden relationship that inevitably ended.  I always wanted a family, and I got that...  if you consider being a future single dad to be a "family."  I always wanted a little girl...  not that I'll be disappointed to have a son, but now that possibility is gone too.  I've been ground into dust.

Yet here I am.  I'm not particularly looking forward to anything...  my son will be born in January, but that just scares me more than anything.  I know that I face a lot of pain my future.  There's a better than average possibility that I'll be spending my life alone, and that scares me too.  There's definitely no shortage of dread.  But honestly, my curiosity always gets the best of me.  My life has been so crazy so far that I can't imagine what the future could hold.  Maybe there's a miracle out there for me somewhere.  Giving up just doesn't seem like the answer anymore.

Every time things have gotten tough, people and circumstances have saved me when I needed them.  I have the best group of friends and family anyone could ask for...  people who care about me very much.  I'll survive if for no other reason than their sake.  But when it comes down to it, I'm counting on that miracle.  Don't let me down, universe.

To Meek or Not To Meek?

"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."  -Jesus

I try to be a man of honor.  Do I always succeed?  No, of course not.  Actually, I really suck at the things I try to accomplish.  My most egregious failures will haunt me for the rest of my days, but for most of my life, I've tried to be a person who does things right.  I've tried to treat people with respect and listen to those wiser than me, put forth my best effort at school and on the job, and be courteous to people who don't always treat me well. People criticized me for giving my ex-wife pretty much everything in the divorce settlement.  "Why?" they would ask.  "It's not like you owed her anything.  You had already paid for her college and bought her cars and everything else."

Yet when she demanded everything I had, I gave most of it to her.  Because it was the right thing to do.

Jesus said that when a man hits you, you turn the other cheek.  When he asks you to walk with him a mile, you walk with him two miles.  And when he asks you for a coat, give him your cloak also.  When someone made a mistake, as in the case of the adulterous woman, he didn't let the people pass judgment on her; instead, he told her to get up and do things better.

Jesus was really a meek guy.  He willingly allowed people to walk over him there at the end, but that wasn't all there was to it.  There was also the time that he saw the money changers taking advantage of people in the temple...  so he braided a whip, turned over their tables, and ran them out of the place.  He could be a really butt kicking guy when he wanted to be.

I seem to be continually faced with people who try to take advantage of me as well.  I'm never quite sure if I should be emulating regular Jesus or butt kicking Jesus.  Do I roll over and give up, or do I fight the good fight?  The two contradictory versions of me say different things.  I just want to do something that won't destroy me in the present while not eating me up with guilt or regret in the future.  Hard times, hard decisions.

Greetings and Salutations

"You can never go home again.  But the truth is, you can never leave home, so it's all right."  -Maya Angelou

Well now...  it's been awhile.  A little over a year, to be exact.  I think it's time that I returned home.  Inevitably, I end up writing when I'm down, and I figure I'll be doing a lot more writing over the coming years.  I don't know that it really accomplishes anything.  Reading back over my old blog, I was either utterly stupid or unintentionally hilarious, depending on the day.  Oh bipolar disorder, you're so much fun.  I get all philosophical when I'm low, yet my creativity comes when my mood is on the way up.  So basically, I end up writing lots of contradictory things.  I can't wait to get back into the swing of it!

I'll expound on how shitty everything is later.  We'll just say that, on a scale of 1 to 10, we've reached negative numbers.  Let's get this party started.