Untitled Entry for November 29, 2015

[This post was originally authored elsewhere. I’ve since decided to include it here.]

It seems as though the holidays are beginning to take a toll on my emotions–helping to underline my feelings of loneliness.

I know that I can survive through this low point–and that by its end I’ll look back and wonder how I’d let myself grow so melancholy; still, there is no comfort in being aware that this too shall pass.

I wish that I would find someone to help brighten my life.

[Republished March 27, 2016]

It seems as though the holidays are beginning to take a toll on my emotions–helping to underline my feelings of loneliness.

I know that I can survive through this low point–and that by its end I’ll look back and wonder how I’d let myself grow so melancholy; still, there is no comfort in being aware that this too shall pass.

I wish that I would find someone to help brighten my life.

Untitled Entry for October 20, 2015

[This post was originally authored elsewhere. I’ve since decided to include it here.]

I’ve always wondered how much honesty would be too much honesty when it comes to writing about my character or feelings on an online dating site. Writing anything at all is quite the conundrum to begin with—something that can be seen in comparing the contrasting guides and how-to’s discussing how one should fill out those blasted profiles in order to find the perfect match!—but, I digress.

Recently, I began to think about my profile on one site—which has only attracted two women—and started to wonder whether I should try to tweak it, and how to go about doing so. My first thought was to try and be just a bit more honest and upfront—to take some of the mystery away, and to attempt to reassure that I am not another one of those creeps fishing for a “good time.”

“Divorced. Lonely. Depressed. Wishing to change that all, real soon, with your help,” was my first thought; just emblazing the top line of my bio with those words. I couldn’t speak truer words to anyone; surely I’d get someone with that kind of honesty, wouldn’t I? After further thought, however, I had my doubts and figured that despite my efforts in being honest, I’d come off as the pathetic and pitiful creep that nobody would want. Sad, really, because honestly many women are looking for that guy—the one that fits the description that I wrote—but they really don’t want to run into someone who’d say it that way. Though that guy is wanted, those words take on negative connotations.

Divorced. A guy that has known love, sure, but a love that ended somehow
 That thought can be attractive—where it’s obvious that the man knows of love well enough to commit—but it brings about  the introduction of several questions: Whose fault was it? Was it mutual? How messy was it? Does that mean that he has a pre-defined type? Will he try to compare relationships? Is there still a connection to the ex-?

It’s easy to see how—despite that one positive note—hearing that a guy is divorced is a scary prospect.

Lonely. Depressed. These two statements kind of go hand in hand; it would make sense that someone that’s feeling lonely would be depressed due to the loneliness. But, then again, one is able to raise question to the degree of the depression and loneliness. Does it mean that he will continue to be depressed a few communiquĂ©s in, or will it fade like it should? Does this mean that he will be a little clingy or over-exuberant when he gets a message or call? And if he’s lonely and depressed now, will he feel the same should things not work out?

That last question is a big one for many women; after all, how many women really want to be the cause of a man’s heartache? Not many; and where women typically feel so much more in tune with their emotions and know the pains of heartache themselves, they’d rather skip over the guy showing evidence that he’s in touch with his emotions, simply because they don’t want to hurt him any further.

Wishing to change all that, real soon, with your help. A good reinforcing statement that shows some play and humor—not a whole lot wrong with it—other than it’s a bit cheesy. It shows that the guy wants to find a true connection, but the cheese suggests that it may just be another line. So much for trying to show that I’m not just another one of those guys.

[Republished March 27, 2016]

I’ve always wondered how much honesty would be too much honesty when it comes to writing about my character or feelings on an online dating site. Writing anything at all is quite the conundrum to begin with—something that can be seen in comparing the contrasting guides and how-to’s discussing how one should fill out those blasted profiles in order to find the perfect match!—but, I digress.

Recently, I began to think about my profile on one site—which has only attracted two women—and started to wonder whether I should try to tweak it, and how to go about doing so. My first thought was to try and be just a bit more honest and upfront—to take some of the mystery away, and to attempt to reassure that I am not another one of those creeps fishing for a “good time.”

“Divorced. Lonely. Depressed. Wishing to change that all, real soon, with your help,” was my first thought; just emblazing the top line of my bio with those words. I couldn’t speak truer words to anyone; surely I’d get someone with that kind of honesty, wouldn’t I? After further thought, however, I had my doubts and figured that despite my efforts in being honest, I’d come off as the pathetic and pitiful creep that nobody would want. Sad, really, because honestly many women are looking for that guy—the one that fits the description that I wrote—but they really don’t want to run into someone who’d say it that way. Though that guy is wanted, those words take on negative connotations.

Divorced. A guy that has known love, sure, but a love that ended somehow
 That thought can be attractive—where it’s obvious that the man knows of love well enough to commit—but it brings about  the introduction of several questions: Whose fault was it? Was it mutual? How messy was it? Does that mean that he has a pre-defined type? Will he try to compare relationships? Is there still a connection to the ex-?

It’s easy to see how—despite that one positive note—hearing that a guy is divorced is a scary prospect.

Lonely. Depressed. These two statements kind of go hand in hand; it would make sense that someone that’s feeling lonely would be depressed due to the loneliness. But, then again, one is able to raise question to the degree of the depression and loneliness. Does it mean that he will continue to be depressed a few communiquĂ©s in, or will it fade like it should? Does this mean that he will be a little clingy or over-exuberant when he gets a message or call? And if he’s lonely and depressed now, will he feel the same should things not work out?

That last question is a big one for many women; after all, how many women really want to be the cause of a man’s heartache? Not many; and where women typically feel so much more in tune with their emotions and know the pains of heartache themselves, they’d rather skip over the guy showing evidence that he’s in touch with his emotions, simply because they don’t want to hurt him any further.

Wishing to change all that, real soon, with your help. A good reinforcing statement that shows some play and humor—not a whole lot wrong with it—other than it’s a bit cheesy. It shows that the guy wants to find a true connection, but the cheese suggests that it may just be another line. So much for trying to show that I’m not just another one of those guys.

Untitled Entry for October 17, 2015

[This post was originally authored elsewhere. I’ve since decided to include it here.]

One thing that I’ve discovered is how much more emotionally exhausting being a single parent can be. It’s hard to try to be everything to the children, and to be there without falling apart in front of them. Fielding the commentary of how they wish that their mother was with us and still a part of our family brings up so many different feelings and emotions inside of me. How do I respond?

Most of the time, I simply tel the child, “I know,” and that “I wish she was here, too.”

…and sometimes, I do wish that their mother was still with us. It’s difficult to say why I fell that way, though. Is it because I wish I could grant the children that wish? Is it because I miss that family element that we’d had for over a decade? Is it because I am lonely?

Other times, I wish that their mother would find a way to grow more distant from us, because of all the heartache and pain that she’s brought–and continues to bring–upon this family.

[Republished March 27, 2016]

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.