Category: Uncategorized

untitled #1 for 5/15/15

I have been in a state of depression for about a year now, and it’s getting quite old.

…and my own optimism is beginning to grate against my nerves.

When I was a child I imagined great wondrous dreams and visions of a happy family life–failing that, a happy pairing between myself and a love. Not once did I pray or dream of being alone. Never did I desire to be a singularity. I would always be a part of a whole–the equal portion to a unified existence of a greater love and understanding.

Now, here I am, mid-thirties, with half a heart, three children and not much else to speak of.

I try to convince myself that I will discover a love worthy of pairing to mine own–that there is a woman out there that would be willing to take on my idiosyncrasies and incomplete family.

“Maybe this is the morning that I’ll meet her–the one who will help make me complete,” I say internally, as I shake the sleep from my head when I wake. And at the end of day, as I bed down alone, I repeat that phrase–with a “yeah, right” sort of nasally huff preceding, and revising the statement to “…maybe tomorrow morning will be…”

It’s wearing on me.

And I can’t say that it’s entirely for a lack of trying–I’ve attempted to make contact with people, and have made numerous revisions at the sad attempts at selling myself on varied and numerous online resources for singles. I either go unnoticed, arrive too late, or simply do not fit the desires of those women that are out there. So, I repeat to myself that these simply aren’t the women that I’m looking for–that there is someone in particular that I am supposed to find, and for one reason or another, she has not shown herself to me yet. Some omniscient force or power knows best.

Still, it’s quite depressing to be sitting alone, waiting.

I Quit.

I’ve never said those words–“I quit.”

…at least, I’ve never really said them and truly meant them before. Well, maybe that’s a lie; I’ve said them, and meant them–but I’ve been in some of the deepest darkest depressions or some sort of situation where I feel like I have been brutally beaten down by someone or something.

I hate the idea of considering myself a quitter of anything. I’ve always been the type to believe that if you want to do something, then you should devote everything that you have to it, and that you should never give up, under any circumstance. Maybe that’s why I took it so hard when my marriage fell apart. Again. And Again. And Again. But that’s an entirely different story.

I don’t mind admitting defeat. That’s a sign that you’ve actually done something–and learned something. And in the admission of defeat, one is continuing to show that they are learning… you know? I see it as a process of just continued growth and dedication. Make sense?

But quitting…

…but that’s where I’ve found myself. Wanting to quit.

I woke this morning to the sound of my phone ringing–alerting me, shortly after 4AM–that a Winter Storm Warning had been issued. I swiped at the screen, ignoring the call, and rolled back over, to try to drift back to sleep. As I laid there in the darkness, I began to wonder why I’d even set up those alerts and wake-up calls so many years ago, when it seems like nobody cares. I also began to try to think of how many hours of sleep I’ve missed or otherwise had interrupted by these alerts, notifications, and phone calls. And then, I thought of an argument that arose earlier this week…

Too many arguments, too many fights, too many disagreements have come up in my life surrounding some of the things I do–or try to do. And I’ve always tried to do my best at it… and all it’s done is get in the way of so many other things… and left me feeling even worse for wear. And my level of involvement or dedication–while it reaches that point of being nearly too much for me, is still quite small in the grand scheme of things. So, it often feels as if I’m fighting some great battle that doesn’t need to be fought. Or something like that.

Since the late ’90s I’ve been involved in trying to manage an online world for the local EM–at the very start of my toying with an online presence, I think it was still DES! That little project was started by my dad–who simply volunteered his time to the agency at that point–and then picked up by me. I wish I still had the HTML files I’d written back then–or that I could remember which section of GeoCities the first incarnation of the site had been on. Eventually, in August of ’01, I asked if I could actually be a recognized member of the team. A few short minutes later, I was. Following that, I began to dedicate even more time to presenting the best online media relations that I could.

I tried to do my best in keeping up education and training requirements as well–but life happened; finding myself becoming a husband and a father got in the way of furthering those aspects of my volunteer career. I still tried my best to juggle the online stuff, though.

With the advent of social media, I took on more responsibilities and created accounts on Twitter and Facebook, long before any other agency in the area realized the importance of these newly born tools–my accounts pre-date nearly every agency in the Commonwealth, including the state’s own accounts! I began to share PSAs and weather bulletins–some original, many copied. I’d drive around and take photos of storm damage–floods, ice, winds, etc.–and post them online to the website, media accounts, and photo-sharing services. Eventually, I developed a following; my sense of responsibility grew.

As the years pressed on, I continued to share and post; I continued to develop and find ways of getting the most timely information to everyone. My phone became my best friend throughout most of this. Now, it’s become a hated symbol of wasted time and effort, waking me at 4 in the morning, reminding me of the fights that go nowhere.

Earlier this week, I voiced an opinion–perhaps a bit misguided, though I’m not entirely sure–on a topic related to the current “emergency” that’s affecting the community; that opinion turned into a nice little fight between my mother and I. To be honest, I still don’t fully understand why it got so heated.

 

Narcissism? Not Necessarily…

So, it hit the news a few weeks–maybe a month–ago that dudes taking tons of “selfies” are potentially narcissistic whack-jobs; and this news, though fairly old–seriously, go google it–has been repeated a thousand times over. Thing is, it does make a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Couldn’t you see Christian Bale’s character in American Psycho just snapping pic after pic of himself and posting them to Facebook?

…all this attention to the male selfie news has made me question why I take so many on occasion–am I narcissistic? Well, maybe a little… but that’s not why I think I take so many pictures of myself. The fact of the matter is, I’m fat and worthless. At least, I used to be. I saw myself that way, anyway. Maybe I still do, at times. Yeah, sometimes, I still do–and the selfies are taken with disbelief; do I really look this way? Am I really in better health? Am I really attractive?

Other psychological aspects to the taking of these images relate to some of what I am going through in discovering myself as being single. Am I attractive enough? Is there something inherently wrong with me that I cannot see? Am I a good person? Why am I alone?

What’s bad, is that the self-doubt has been around a fairly long time–some of it stemming from my youth, and quite a bit from my failed marriage.

 

The Road Behind & Ahead: Reflections of 2014 and hopes for 2015

So here it is–January 1, 2015; that day where many of us sit and think about what we’ve done, and where we plan to be in the year that’s just begun. And here I am, left sitting, wondering where the time went, whether it was worth my while, and what I can do to try and make it better.

In many respects, 2014 wasn’t that great of a year for me; in some it helped to lay the path for what could be a better future–though optimism seems to be running a tad short due to certain events and feelings leaving me jaded.

The biggest change that took place in 2014 was the dissolution of a ten-year marriage, eleven-year relationship and the drastic effects it’s had on a friendship that has spanned nearly two decades; intertwined in this mess, of course, is the affect that it has on my family–my children. In this respect, 2014 was very cruel to me–and I welcome it’s passing. Still, I’m left with so many more frightening questions and uncertainties of where I am now, and where I am going.

Another drastic sort of occurrence was the removal of my gallbladder–which came without much warning. Earlier in the year–and late in the previous year, as I think about it–I had suffered symptoms similar to those that I’d had the night before/morning of my gallbladder’s removal; I had felt incredibly ill, suffered terrible sweats and drastic cold chills–not to mention excruciating abdominal pain. Funny, on the morning of that last attack, I’d thought that I’d simply worked myself into one terrible emotional fervor related to my relationship woes. When the pain became too great to handle, I took myself to the hospital for help; hours later a diagnosis of an infected and dying gallbladder was made–surgery was eminent.

One great positive did surface around the last third of the year; I got a job! For nearly a year I had been searching for some sort of employment that would work with the scheduling needs of my family–that need became greater and even more difficult once I found myself a single parent. I was so discouraged–worse than discouraged–as prospects were so few and far between; then one day I found a posting for a “less-than” part-time position at a local business. At first, I believed that I shouldn’t bother, as I’d applied for positions with the company in years past; something, however, told me I should try–just as I’d been trying with every opportunity that I found. Much to my surprise, I was interviewed and hired.

It’s hard for me to say what the future holds. Honestly, there’s not much that I can forecast, given the hand that life dealt me this last round. I guess that I could say that I am somewhat cautiously optimistic–hoping for the best, yet still expecting and planning for the worst.

I would like to find myself in love, once more; to find that person that I hope to spend my life and eternity with. I don’t expect that it will happen–given the difficulties related to “finding” someone when one has children. I’d imagine it will also be rather difficult as I am still that shy, fearful person at my core–the same scared child that got incredibly nervous and awkward at the mere inkling of a smile from any member of the opposite sex in high school.

I still have a very strong desire to move away from this neighborhood, and to find a place better suited for my children. Since the divorce, that lofty goal has grown even more desired, as I wish to escape the memories associated with this place. I do hope that I may find some house available somewhere that I might be able to call home, and continue to raise my children in.

I hope that I might somehow manage to gain more responsibility and become more involved in my job and in the community. I’m not exactly sure of how to achieve this, though it does seem–at times–that I am actually taking steps toward these wishes everyday.

My vision for 2015 is rather blurred and hazy at this point. I do hope that the forecast calls for a lifting of this fog, and brings a future of bright sunny days…

I hate to say it, but it seems like this year is bringing one of the worst Christmases in my history.
I dunno.
I’m just a bit sad and depressed.
Barely any gifts for the children. Money issues, again, because I involved Diana I’m my life, again. Losing Diana multiple times this year. Losing those loving feelings for Diana. Being alone. Wanting to find someone to be nuts over–and wanting them to be nuts over me. It’s depressing.