And So It Begins or Ends or Begins- A Christmas Story

These days if someone one asks me how I feel about the holiday season you might hear me mumble something reminiscent of that of old Mr. Scrooge. While for some Christmas and New Year's Eve provoke a magical time to spend with family and friends and reflect back on triumphs and disappointments of the ending year while simultaneously looking forward to the year ahead, I myself see no beginning or end but rather only subtle differences. Depression is a way of life for me. Depression is my life and when you pile on the onslaught of holiday hassles such as having to deal with all the " Merry Christmas " joyous people who will fight for hours to park closer to the mall, " Joy to the World " does not come to mind. So how do I feel about this magical time of year? " HUMBUG! "

Life is withering slowly to an end as December draws its' last few breaths of 2010 and contradictory to my previous paragraph, I'm going to reflect back on some of my personal highlights of the blessed year. Mind you, I use the definition of
" highlights " rather loosely. While some give an " all the good things " answer to the question; ' What is a highlight? '. I sarcastically define a personal highlight as nothing more that more shit added to the pile that is my life. So good riddance to 2010 and bring on the new year!

The good, the bad, and the not so bad is how I would define most of the events in my life throughout 2010. I'll start with the good. In April, having no outstanding debt, I ordered a nice, new, Italian sports car. Well it isn't really a sports car. It's a motorcycle! Well it's not exactly a motorcycle, but it isn't a moped either. It's a scooter and I love it. So that's one thing off the list. Next would be around June I ran into an old friend. We knew each other years ago when we were but teens. It's always nice to make new friends, especially since my introverted personality makes it challenging for me. It's also nice to be reunited with old ones Although we have both changed tremendously. Having met her I have some how earned the honor of mentoring her son. He's a great kid that has had a few tough breaks and that is all I will say about them. On to the next thing; my yard. Having taken a little more preventative car in the fall and winter, my lawn looked pretty good this year. I got a lot ( but not all ) of the things done on my yearly
" to do " list so that was nice. Lastly, I took a road trip to Bossier City, LA to see an old friend and the best part; I rode my scooter! Well those are the high points in chronological order. And now onto the not so bad.

So even though I have a lot of things to bitch about in the next paragraph, I'll try to keep this one a little more lively with some not so bad things that happened or didn't in 2010. First of all I didn't really get sick save for about 3 pretty bad colds and some bugs in my hair. I didn't gain weight ( or lose any ). I still have a place to live, however tragic the living conditions are. I have a pretty reliable old car that still gets me around and most importantly I did NOT kill myself. This may seem funny, but in all honesty I though about it a lot, to the point where not only had a written a suicide letter ( on more than one occasion in 2010 ), but had also scoured the internet to find the best way to do it. C02 is the way to go and I even have it here. I spent many nights fighting my emotions in silence, holding my phone in my hand and wondering if I should call the hot line and then telling myself to man up. On a side note; what the hell does " man up " mean? I guess it means to suppress your human emotions as they may be a sign of weakness and weakness is of coarse anything but manly. So there you have it. The not so bad things of 2010 through my eyes.

Now on to the main course. If you are still reading then this is what you've been waiting for. The shit that sucked for me in 2010, or as I like to call it, " The year of the same old bullshit with new, never seen before rage! " I'm not sure where to start. Oh yes I am. Work. My job is ( was ) shit. My boss is a drunk, seriously. He usually starts around ten. This wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that he waits until Friday at five pm to tell me how he's gonna fuck me and not pay me. I could write a book on all the ways he's fucked me around for the past four years, but I'll cut to the chase. When I lost my apartment in Atlanta it was right after the holidays two years ago. We got slow and he cut my hours to three days a week. This time he told me to stay home and never told me to come back. I even brought him work from a friend of mine that did me a favor. He charged him double and the shit has been sitting there a month. I hate that ASSHOLE! Still hungry? Read on.

No holiday would be complete without family and mine is fucked. My Father and I have been in a non-stop argument since I was about 21. We do take breaks every now and then to eat and sleep, but it's rare. Rather then go into detail which would fill a 1TB hard drive ( I hand wrote 18 pages during my scooter trip to LA alone )
I can sum it up by simply saying that my hate now outweighs my love for him. Sure I take him for granted, but I just don't care anymore. I am a basically angry person and you would be too if you worked for a piece of shit boss like me and lived with a loud, miserable, short-tempered asshole Father like mine. If I have to spend Christmas or New Years Eve with him I'm going to start drinking at breakfast. Viva Familia!

So where am I now? To recap I'm jobless, I'm blessed, I'm pissed, I'm full of rage, the likes I've never felt before and believe it or not, as silly as it sounds, I'm full of hope. Sometimes having nothing is the best way to get something and the loss of a job is a chance to fulfill a dream. I've made my dreams come true before. I've worked hard and did what I had to so for me starting 2011 unemployed is like sitting on the starting line of a race and I'm going to win, damn it!

Well I have to run. I'm starting to get all warm and fuzzy inside ( dashing through the snow ) thinking about the awesome ( jingle bells, jingle bells ) gift I got for my little ( oh what fun it is ) buddy and his sister.

So I feel alright at the moment. Just remember this kids: " Good or bad, this too shall pass. " If you don't believe me just read some of my older posts.

When will we be landing?

Doctors will tell you that stress will kill you quicker than anything else. I say stress along with a sedentary lifestyle and a horrible diet is a self-inflicted death sentence! So WHY THE HELL am I doing all of the above?
Well for one thing, when I'm stressed I tend to eat. I don't snack a lot or overeat, but when I eat it more often than not is on fried food, pizza, etc. It's like a temporary high. On top of that I feel so unmotivated to work out. How foolish of me when I know better than anyone the effects of healthy eating and exercise can impact your life in a positive way. I did it for years having turned my life 180 degrees and now bouncing back to the other side.

Let's dissect this, shall we? ( Alright, so I now I'm talking to myself here, but aren't I always? )

Main causes of stress in my life. The big 3:
1) My current job. It's beyond dead-end and has no benefits, not taxes, no set schedule throughout the day and surrounds me with temptation to drink. On top of all of the above, since I hate the situation I can't help but feel a constant state of stress.
2) My relationship with my Father. I'm not going into detail but it too leaves me in a constant state of stress.
3) Loneliness. I I have a lot of friends yet I don't. I feel so inferior and/or superior to so many people. I really don't know any peers and up until recently my weekends were spent alone where my only joy was cutting grass. Social anxiety is a bitch.

What makes me happy? This is a tough question and the first thing that pops into my head is beer, but that, just like food is a temporary high, both with very dangerous consequences.

1) Without question my number one joy in life is spending time with my little buddy. Those that know me know who I'm talking about. Sharing yourself with someone is an amazing experience. You can not put a price on the feeling of being loved and needed and there is no greater feeling than when someone asks you for help.

2) As odd as this sounds one of my joys in life is exercise. Although I haven't done it much in a while, the feeling you get after working out is wonderful. After a few weeks of lifting weights and running you feel so accomplished and I could go on and on about the benefits.

3) Number three is a mix of things. I like riding my scooter on nice days. I like playing my guitar when others are around and I pretty much like being outside doing just about anything whether in the yard or the garage.

So there are six things that affect my mood in one way or the other and still for the most part I spend my time home, alone, reading. I'm not sure if I love to read, but I do love to learn. Still when I'm with someone I never suggest curling up with a good book or looking up a blog on the 'net.

So where am I going with all this? Where am I going?

treadmills and treachery

Well as good as things seem to be going ( well actually they are ) on the outside of my skin, my internal struggles seem to be going nowhere. I've spent a lot of time with the kid lately and we have made a lot of progress around my house, still having plenty of time to do things for him which makes us both happy ( I think ). I'm still working on my own business and that too is a good thing because it gives me hope for a better life. I'll soon be able to do things for people that I never could before. Still I struggle with the " here and now ". Maybe this is just the way it will always be for me: happy/sad.

Lately things have been disappearing around here. First it was my watch which I had been wearing only minutes before it vanished. Next was a few important papers that I sat on my bed just before I went to taco night at Fernando's. When I came home an hour or so later that were nowhere to be found and just this weekend a pair of underwear were added to the M.I.A. list. My first thought was that I was losing my mind and that still very well may be the case. Another theory I have is that there is a ghost in my house. I really doubt this could be true but I do remember earlier this year that I saw one here, in my room.
I was laying in bed late at night and having often suffered with insomnia I was not in a peaceful dream state but rather my tossing and turning mode. While lying there I felt as if someone was watching me. I opened my eyes and saw a figure at the foot of my bed. He was wearing all black with a black hat, sort of a cowboy hat and a long black coat. No sooner had I saw him when he quickly moved across the foot of my bed and into my bathroom. I instantly screamed "WTF!" and jumped out of bed and into the bathroom. I turned the light on and saw nothing. I opened the shower door. No one was there. Could there be a link to the figure I saw months ago and the missing things of recent? I am not sure, but I hope this isn't the case.

I am afraid. The only things is that if the lines between what is real and what is not are blurred and if the missing things are the result of a black out of my awareness then I have to ask myself what to do. I keep hearing noises at night. NOt really voices but rather noises; tapping, ticking, etc. I know a lot of this can be dismissed as " the house sttling " but c'mon. No matter what is happening, I need help.

I don't fear physical harm yet I am afraid to go to sleep. I know that God protects me from things like this, but still I am afraid. Is this really happening? Do I indeed share my home with another spirit or is my anxiety getting the better of me?
I need to know.
I suppose if it's anxiety then there is no better time to get back to my work out regimen as this relieves stress but can it cure my mind? Should I seek help for me or call the ghost busters? All I know is that I have to find a way to make my mind and my things turn up.

Right. Down. The Middle.

Guess what? I haven't written in a while. I do have a reason though. Before I proceed I will warn you that this is going to be lengthy.

OK... here we go! First a few points. In July I rode my scooter to Helen, GA and stayed for a few days. I started writing what would become a 18 page blog entry that I never posted here. I will say that I did learn a few things about myself though and a lot of what I learned is good. Anyway by the time I'd stopped writing I had covered several hundred miles riding from Georgia through Alabama and then onto Mississippi ultimately ending up just shy of the Texas border in the town of Bossier City, Louisiana where I stayed for a few days before heading back to Georgia. Now rather then recap everything I wrote down I'll just pick up with what's going on today.

It's Wednesday evening and the weather is cooling. The leaves are barely starting to turn, but you have to look close to notice them. My grass is growing very slowly, fighting hibernation and my pool is all but useless unless you're brave ( which I was Saturday night... COLD ). I always seem to get so depressed in the fall as the holiday season fast approaches, but this year may be different in some ways. Oh sure there will be the inevitable arguments with my father, the stress of never having enough money to buy everything I want for all the people I want to buy for this Christmas and the painful look in the mirror and seeing that I didn't lose as much weight as I'd planned. You know what? All that ( well sans the arguing with Dad ) looks like it's going to be different this year. I've been blessed!

For starters I'm in the process of slowly but precisely getting my own business(s) off the ground. I'm embarking on a journey to places I've never been and I'm excited. I have very little to lose and so much to gain. I'm using and stretching my brain and the feeling is wonderful. I finally see the light ahead. I no longer feel trapped in my job and know now that it's only a stepping stone. I make just enough to keep the bills paid and put aside a few dollars if I discipline myself, but this is going to change. Soon I will be living a dream of mine. Will I become instantly wealthy? Maybe but I will be self employed!

Secondly I have found a very special friend. "D" from one of my earlier posts. Now I'm not going into a whole lot of detail, but I will say that feeling needed and trusted and loved are so great that there is nothing more a human could strive for. It's the ultimate gift from God other than that of his own son. The only other thing I can say is that I'm glad I have more time to save for Christmas because I hope to give him and his sister a great one.

Now the book: In late 2005 I read a book called The Abs Diet by the editor of MensHealth Magazine and it changed my life. By late 2006 I had went from a weak and obese 280+ pounds to a strong and lean 160+/- body with a nicely defined midsection. I did this by following the rules of the book. I simply ate healthy and I ate a lot! I ate more than I ever did at any other time in my life and lost weight. I exercised 3 days a week and sometimes four. I ran or walked on the treadmill six days a week for 30 minutes. That's it. I ate healthy and exercised no more than an hour a day on average for six days a week. I continued to do this for about two years and during this time I was completely off of any and all depression medication. I felt confident and was proud of my body. I miss that feeling so I'm rereading the book and am starting the journey back this weekend with a trip to the grocery store.
I did it once and I can do it again. This time I'm right at 200 pounds and my goal is to bulk back up and hit the 165 mark on the scale.

Other than that it's business as usual. I only work 3, maybe 4 days a week at my regular job and have dedicated my " off " days to working on my own business projects as well as the usual yard work, etc and the best part of all is I get to spend time with "D".

Well I have a plan, it's in motion. I can sway back to the way things were and get depressed or I can stay right where I am now, at the starting line OR I can take off so the next time I write hopefully I'll get an A on my progress report.

A wolf in sheep's clothing

a hundred degrees and it still feels like winter
nothing is simple and nothing is new

the face of child will tear you to pieces
better a memory than a dream that came true

selfish indulgence basks in depression
try not to think of those left behind

open your eyes so you don't have to see her
cover your ears and you won't hear her cry

laden by guilt of the prison created
by foolish kindness you shouldn't have shared

you cracked open their lives and filled them with illusions
illusions of someone that you'll never be

and if they remember then what are their memories
something you did or you didn't do

he joked once and told me I was a monster, bad person
so I sang him a song and shed not a tear

building a home and building a future
all the time only building a tomb

so I sang him a song and shed not a tear

tired...

Oh!

It's just been so long since I've talked to myself. Lately, well for the past several weeks, I've just been letting life take me where it will and following the lead.

About a month or so ago I (re)met a girl that I knew briefly when I was a young teen boy. Funny huh? Well what is funny is that at the exact time we were reintroduced I was actually drunk. I really don't think it has anything to do with it, but I was. Since that day we have been together almost every day. The time we spend together is fun, but even more so is the time I've spent with her son, D. Before I get too far ahead of myself, which I often do, let me explain the whole situation. She lives only a few miles from me, is my same age and has tow teenagers. The youngest being the boy and her daughter being a few years older at 16.

I really don't know what to think of the girl. We'll call her K. She is pretty and seems to be really nice and very respectful. She has a few tastefully done piercings and in my opinion, she dresses nice. She only likes black boys and she has gotten in a little trouble lately ( sneaking out of the house at night which to me is typical teenage b.s. ). Overall I personally do not have a problem with her. However, I do have problems with the situation in general.

D! He's the ripe age of 13 and looks like your typical scrawny kid. Shaggy hair and all. I feel as though he has taken a strong liking to me and that is a very stressful situation because I've let it happen. I really enjoy my time with him and if you've never taught a child anything ( power tools, guitar, etc. ) then you probably wouldn't understand. As soon as we began to hang out, after knowing some of his past, my first reaction was to father him. I think that it's not a good idea. I'm scared.

Momma on the other hand is another story, but not a bad one. As I mentioned earlier we are the same age. She, like my self is a few pounds overweight, but NOT a fatty. She is a really nice person. She raised her kids basically on her own although she was in a long relationship with a black man which the kids pretty much consider their Dad. Momma is anything, but soft-spoken. As she says; she doesn't have much, but what she does is hers. That's pretty cool because the kids have all the basics they need and do not live in poverty. That doesn't mean she doesn't have trouble making ends meet, but these days few people I know don't.

Momma and myself seem to get along well and have been hanging out for about 6 weeks or so. Oddly I've never even kissed her. This doesn't bother me. I don't feel romantically attached to her. I do consider her a friend. I like her kids. I'm just afraid of responsibility. Not that she has ever asked me for a thing nor have her kids. However, things may soon change nonetheless.

As any of you who know me will attest to my Father and I rarely get along. In fact there is ( at least in myself ) a certain degree of love and HATE for my Father. Since I've been spending more and more time with Momma and the kids my Father has been worse and worse. He's said so many bad things about her and her kids and it hurts me. Is she perfect? No. Are the kids? No Am I? No. Is my Father? HELL NO! This man will stop at nothing to hurt me and if he can't get to me directly he will scoff those I care about to hurt me even more. This is nothing new to him. As a child and young adult he always put my friends down in order to get to me. No one has ever been good enough. Not one friend, not one girlfriend. No one. Even those he is kind to face-to-face he will put down immeasurably when they are not around.

The hate for my Father is mirrored only to the hate of myself for letting him, my boss and many other people/places/things. Tension is so thick in this house right now. This Friday things got so bad that I snapped. I wanted to hit him. He constantly tells me to my face that I don't love him. He told me that me and Momma are going to marry and he said what a bitch she was. MANY other defilement! I snapped and pushed him. It felt good. I balled my fists and he kept YELLING! I began swinging... I hit myself so many times in the face that I bruised myself. It keeps going escalating higher and higher.

I want to leave. I want to run away. I want peace.

To add to the stress of a new relationship/friendship and D and K ( the kids ) and my Father, I'm still having chest pains daily.

I had the last week off from work without pay while my boss was on vacation. By " without pay " I mean not only was I not compensated for the week away from work, but he went out of town owing me the previous week's pay as well as the larger portion of the week prior. That's right. He went away for a week with not so much as giving me a tank of gas which would have been nice considering that I burned up an entire tank of gas in one day running errands for him, also with no compensation.

I'm ready to get off this ride. I don't really know what keeps me hanging on. I just don't. If you asked me a week ago what it is that makes me happy I'd quickly reply, D. But he doesn't need me. He may think he does, but he doesn't. My mood swings, my mental illness is real. I'm not one of those " designer depression " types. Mental illness runs in my family. We hurt each other. We hurt the ones we love. How can I put Momma or her kids through this; through me? I can't. The longer I hold on, the worse it will be for all of us.

For some people it's hard to hold on, for others it's hard to let go. None of these are hard for me. I have no problem holding on to my " no where " job with imaginary pay. I have no problem letting go of the love of my Father. No, my only problem is guts. I have none. I've been contemplating suicide for years now... ever since my last attempt which was interrupted with an unanticipated call from an old acquaintance. Well he did call the police. I need guts. I mean I don't have emotions like most people. My emotions are deep!

I used to write to express myself; to " get it out " but I can't even write anymore. I can't express myself in any way anymore. The one thing I had left is gone, but still here I am doing what I always do. Writing. Wishing. Hoping. Nothing ever changes and at the same time everything is changing faster than ever before.

I got high. Every time I do I fall. This time I was higher than ever, but now I'm riding down a landslide back into my own cesspool of shit. Ex business partner, The machine shop, Mini' Truckin', alcohol abuse, my boss, my Father, my stolen toys, everything. Fat. Everything I have ever achieved I've given away. I am a whore.

I have been having so much trouble sleeping and I haven't seen my psychiatrist in a long while. I know I need to go see her, but what can we accomplish? What can I accomplish? It's always the same old shit: " get a better job ", " move out ", " you can do it ". Bullshit! I HAVE TRIED!!!

I really just want to be alone. I really just want to be around happy people. I really just want to die. I really just want to be happy. I really want my Dad to go away. I don't want to see him die, but sometimes I look forward to his death. We are sick, He and I. We are murderers. We are suckers. I hate him. I hate him. I lo', hate him. Nothing on this earth can repair the damage he has caused. I hate his business partner. He fucks.

I'm not gonna do anything yet because I haven't hurt enough yet. I stress so much over a job that does NOTHING for me. I'm going on four years of dedication for nothing, especially not for me. I'm educated. I'm smart. I'm a sucker. My life is hate, self inflicted pain. I'm a whipping boy for my Father. I don't want to hurt D. I can take pain. I say I can't, but my actions prove otherwise.

I'm hiding away at home away from Momma and the kids. I don't want them to see me like this.

Why can't I be normal? Why can't I be happy? Why can't I have a real job... one that deserves me?

People can't make people happy. One will always hurt the other. I'm hurt. I hurt. I will hurt you. FUCK!

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This is the worst or one of the worst things I ever wrote.

This makes absolutely NO sense:

As you lay sleeping
Your head on your pillow
Dreaming in colors
Of crimson and blue

You walk hand in hand
Alone with your lover
Your holding the one
That you never knew

Somebody needs you
Somebody wants you
Somewhere there's someone
That's dreaming of you

As you look in her eyes
You see a reflection
A glimpse of a story
The story of you

She whispers your name
As you kiss her so gently
You long to be with her
But your dreaming is through

As you awaken
Still drunk from her memory
Your hearts beating faster
Because you know it's not true

The drifters come calling
They're holding their hands out
Begging for something
They'll never return

The summer belongs
To those all around you
But you can not touch it
It's no longer yours

Now it's your turn
To walk down the mountain
Into the mouth
Of the sinners below

You reach all around
As you call out to your savior
Searching for poison
To help you get through

You kneel at the cross
Deep in the valley
To find only silence
And no way to choose

Delivered from nothing
And salvaged from nowhere
The river consumes you
And winter is through

_______________________________________________________

Why did He make me this way?
Why am I afraid of life?
Why can't I live?
Why must I dream?
I do not want hope anymore.
I only wish to sleep for it is there where I am most alive.

My scooter, my scratchpad!

First: I want to say is that Thursday I had the biggest scare of my life. Seriously.
Russ and I were at lunch at in an instant I felt an unusual amount of pressure on the center of my chest, kinda like someone put a 500 pound weight on me. At that very same time my left shoulder started tingling and aching. I became dizzy and was gasping for air. My first though: heart attack?. I was scared and told Russ that I didn't know if I should go to the hospital or not. By that time my neck and left shoulder started hurting as well. I drove back to the shop and called my family doctor to tell him what was going on. He asked me a few questions and told me to come to his office, now. I told him I was afraid and he told me that he would get me in right away. I drove there immediately in fear of my life; for my life. I walked in, signed in and sat down. Since the first sign of my symptoms until the time I got to the doctor's office about 30-45 minutes had passed. At the very moment I pulled in the doctor's parking lot all the pain had subsided. I decided to stay just to make sure I didn't just have a small heart attack. After almost two hours in the waiting room and still not being able to see the doctor I decided to leave.
Did I do the right thing? What should I do?

Next: Friday I went with Russ to Scooter Superstore in Norcross to quote a price on recovering a scooter seat. Now those of you that follow me on twitter or facebook already know that I've been considering buying one for several weeks. I initially looked at a 150cc Honda and almost bought it on the spot, but I promised myself to never make ( any more ) " seat of the pants " decisions. I instead went home and did some research. Three weeks worth of research as a matter of fact. In between that time Russ had mentioned going to the Scooter Superstore to quote the seat and suggested I wait to purchase a scooter until I talked to a former customer of ours whom happens to be the manager of the store. I went home and googled the store and fell in love. I saw the most beautiful scooter ever! It's an Aprilia Sportcity 250 cube. I did a lot of snooping around in forums, YouTube, manufacturer's websites, etc. and decided that this may very well be the one for me. To make an already long story short I ordered my Scooter Friday and it's supposed to be here Tuesday. For a total price including financing; the bike will have cost me $5,700 by the time it's paid off in three years. In my opinion that's not bad to have a cool scooter that will easily achieve 80+ miles an hour and get an average of 70mpg. I'm VERY excited!

Finally: Today has been a very magical day for me. To me this very day is a day of celebration that only comes once a year. For me today marked the beginning of summer. So why has summer officially started for me? Today was the first day this year that I did what is to become my weekly ritual, yard work. There is always so much to be done in the warmer months. Any of you that own a home know this is no exaggeration. But the first several weeks are the hardest, but most rewarding.

I started the day by getting gas for all the various machines and then went to work. Fortunately for me I had no trouble starting any of the machines that lay dormant all winter because I use sta-bil, which is one of the best things God has ever created. I edged, mowed, trimmed, spread weed killer, blew off the sidewalks and driveway and raked up a few leaves and limbs. I even managed to get a little sunburn. What a great day. Sure the work is hard, but the results are far worth the effort.

In the coming weeks I'll have to continue my usual weekly labor of love with some added bonuses. I'll have to pressure wash the concrete, plant some flowers, shape some bushes, do a little touch up painting, balance out and clean up the pool and rke up the rest of the leaves before I can get back to autopilot. I'm not looking forward to a lot of these chores, but it sure will be nice when my yard is once again the shining star of the neighborhood and my backyard is my own private paradise.

Again, this is just another one of my personal blogs to myself.

Enjoy your summer. I know I will!

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Packing my bags for the rest of my life

So it finally feels like spring around here. The grass is tall and the leaves are greening. The skies are warming and the birds are singing. The dawn of summer has arrived.

After work today, while digging through my drawers looking to see what shorts still fit me I picked a pair of blue plaid shorts which sparked a memory. Last summer I was fortunate enough to be in Panama City Beach, Florida for the fourth of July. I remember because on that day, besides my swimming trunks, I wore these shorts. Now you would think that memories of the beach, sun and fun would make me smile, but they didn't. The thing I remember most is what I was thinking when I bought these shorts. You see these particular shorts are actually a size 34 waist. I know this because I was forced to buy them as most of my once loose fitting size 32's had become a little tight. Sure I could still squeeze into them, but the key word is squeeeeze.

When I bought the blue shorts, just before my trip to the beach, I made myself a promise to lose weight by this time next year. Now with the arrival of spring and the looming " dog days of summer " it's time to cash in on that promise. Over the fall and winter months I've managed to clock in a few miles here and there running around the neighborhood but I still haven't managed to get back into any sort of routine. There was a time when my life revolved around fitness. My body came first and everything else was second. But there they were staring me in the face. A reminder telling me that I can't go back on my word.

Those shorts, unlike most of my clothes, are large. In this case bigger is definitely not better. My closet is filled with medium T shirts and size 32 jeans. In effect these cool-looking blue plaid shorts are a crossroad. To the left is apathy and complacency and to the right is a return to my roots, the real me. This got me thinking to myself. What are you going to wear for the rest of your life? Am I to be a cuddly 200 pound guy or a fit 160? Looking at these shorts is like staring into a mirror that sees into the past and the future which is the way I'm heading. Now it's time to pack my bags for the journey.

Now at this very moment, sitting in front of my computer, I'm doing nothing. And by nothing I mean nothing besides writing this and wishing that my three day long headache would go away. But in my mind I'm hard at work. I know at some point I have to go see the doctor for my annual allergy shot since I'm one of the lucky ones that always gets hit hard early on with sever allergies. Once my symptoms subside it's time to strap on those trusty running shoes and head back out into the world, my world. A world of work and reward. So even though I may be doing "nothing" at the moment, my plan is already spun into action.

In my life there is very little I have control over. I have a job I'm not fond of with pay that is even less attractive. Due to my financial state I live at home which has its' benefits ( financially speaking ) but the trade of is the lack of true freedom. If any of you have ever lived with a parent later in life I'm sure you know where I'm coming from. God bless our parents. Another thing I seem to have lost control of over the past several years is time. It seems that the older I become the more obligations I acquire. Things like cleaning the garage, grocery shopping, fixing a light socket, yard work, etc. all vie for my precious time. Still there is one thing that I, we have control over and that is our health.

Now rather then go into great detail about all the benefits of health and why we should all strive to be healthy, I'll just point out a few basic points.

1. Esteem: Being fit means feeling fit and feeling fit feels good and in turn helps you to feel better about yourself!

2. Longevity: Not only do those of us who are healthy live longer, but we last longer.

3. Inspiration: What better feeling is there than to help someone? By being fit, especially after not being so, we can inspire those around us to make positive changes towards health and ultimately towards happiness.

Now with the knowledge of fitness I have not only in theory ( not to mention my N.E.S.T.A. training ), but also in application as I managed to drop from 280 plus pounds to around 160 in a little over a year and keep most of it off for many years after
( although I am hovering close to the 200 mark now I stayed at the 160-165 mark for bout three years) It's time to pack my bags and begin my journey home. It's time for me to head back to the familiar streets for a run. Time to clean out the pantry and throw away the processed garbage. It's time to pick up the weights as well as my mood. It's time to go!

In my last post I basically blurbed my intended suicide. After writing that rather dim goodbye I started to think to myself: "What will make me happy?"
I wrote down a lot of things on a piece of paper, a list if you will. Well not really a list, more like a bunch of lists. Things like what makes me nervous and sad, what makes me happy, what are my dreams for the future. I wrote pages of responses to these questions, but it wasn't until I stumbled across a pair of little, well big blue shorts that I found my inspiration.

I hope that as you read this that maybe you found a little inspiration too.

E-mail me and let me know if you are in the same ( weight ) boat and let's do this together.

Until my next miserable blog...

A Constant Reminder

Fuck!

I was feeling alright for a minute. I posted a shitty video on YouTube ( all my videos are shitty ) and this guy posted a funny video response on " how to learn country guitar ). I was smiling and I grabbed my classical guitar and made a video response. I put on a funny hat and play a few songs. I watched the video prior to posting it to see where and how I would edit it. I decided to delete it and not post one at all. I may post one after I get a mask to cover my face. Watching that video made me sick. I just got done watching and deleting it a few seconds ago. Now I feel like my normal fat pile of shit self.

I can't stand to look at myself. My YouTube name is " Ugliest1uEverSaw " which pretty much describes me. I'm so fucking ugly I can't imagine how people can even stand to look at my face. On top of that I can't believe how fat I've gotten. I know I need to start running again. I do miss it, but I can't find the motivation or inspiration to do so. I mean will it really make me feel better about myself? Did it before when I was in good shape? NO! Fat or fit I'm still the ugliest person on earth.

I've heard it said that God doesn't make ugly, but that is simply not true. God may not " see " ugly, but he certainly produces it.
Speaking of God, I can't help but to be a little angry at him. I know it's selfish to say that, but look at me. Why must I be so ugly and so unlovable? The only reason people even pretend to like me is to get whatever they can from me. I could give so many examples to prove this. I mean I know this one girl who claims to be my friend, but she always wants something when she sees me whether it be food, beer, a place to invite her low-life friends or all of the above. That is pretty much the only reason anyone even claims to like me. I may have a friend in Jesus, but to the world I am shit because I AM SHIT!

I fucking hate myself. I have no talent at all. At one time in my life I actually thought I had friends and maybe I did. At one time I thought I was good at something. What a fool I was back then. I guess I still am a fool today, just a different kind.

My life has regressed to nothing more than a life of work at a shitty job, work around the house I hate and sitting in front of my computer watching videos of happy people like some sort of creeper. I can't even find the desire to work on my stereo system I started last October. I can barely even work anymore. I have three alarm clocks and usually sleep through them all. On the days I do work I'm never on time. I just don't want to live anymore. I really can't seem to find a reason to anyway. My life has never been lived.

My memories can basically be categorized as follows:

Drunken happiness ( false happiness )
Regret and shame ( my memories of myself )
Anger ( towards myself and those around me )
Sadness ( due to loneliness and shame )
Hopelessness ( my only joy is in the things I truly despise )

Still to this day I have no idea why anyone would even talk to me. I am so fucking ugly that looking in the mirror sickens me. I had to say this again because it's still bothering me. Since I watched that video I have had butterflies in my stomach and I'm shaking.

I wish someone could help me or at least help me to help myself, but even my psychiatrist can't help me because she has never tried to dig. I control her. I tell her one thing and that is all we discuss... alcohol and exercise. It's always " stop drinking and exercise ". She wants me to join AA or some sort of support group, but I hate crowds, I usually don't like meeting new people... actually I don't like meeting new people because even if I initially like a new person, they always end up being a disappointment. The next time I see her will be just to say goodbye and then I'm done with her.

How can someone as nice as me end up like this. Unloved, unliked, undiscovered, unequaled and alone.
I'm so sick of spending time with me. Yeah I do like being alone, but not with mirrors.
I want to fucking die. Yeah I'm afraid of dying to a point, but I'm also afraid of living. I'm tired of living and nobody cares. Maybe if someone did it would be different.
Why can you not depend on people? Why?
Nobody gives a shit about others in this world nor do I. I was a fool to do so in the past.

I just want to give up. The only living I do is for others like my Dad and my " boss ". I don't know why I care whether or not I anger him because I hate the work I do. It's frustrating and doesn't pay well. On top of that I really don't deserve what I get paid now. If he paid me more money I would feel so guilty that I would have to quit. I can barely stand the pressure as it is. Actually I can't. How I have made it through the past few months is nothing short of a miracle.
NOBODY understands how seriously sick I've become. I constantly have the shakes and am jittery. My boss yells at me and tells me to calm down and that I'm making him nervous.
Every time I mention to him that I want to kill myself he tells me I should do it. He says I'm like the boy who cried wolf.
I'm not going to lie. My suicide threats are truly nothing more than a CRY FOR HELP, but I will cry wolf no more.
If I wait until my Dad dies to kill myself it will only be putting off the inevitable. There is no way I will be able to support myself and/ or this house alone and I would rather DIE than have another greedy, filthy human live here with me.

This is my spot, my world, my anything and everything. All my thoughts are right here with a link on and to my facebook page and nobody cares. This used to bother me, but after looking in the mirror tonight, after watching my YouTube video, it no longer bothers me at all. Ugly people have no need to be here. Ugly people are underachievers. It's fact. Ugly people do nothing but end up poor with a shitty job, pumping out ugly kids. FUCK the ugly in this world. They're useless.

This world is only for the beautiful, the wealthy. Those people are able to fuck people over to succeed in this world. Those people only care about sex and money. People are not deep.. not deep like me. Yeah everyone has feelings and I am the master at digging them out only to step on them. Just look at the pain I cause my Father. Maybe he deserves a lot of it in retaliation, but is equally vicious retaliation right? No.

I'm not a good person anymore. I'm so fucked up I can't even work anymore. I can't do anything for my Father because I already do it all. I'm his slave and his whore and his costly obsession and his punching bag.
To my boss I am the guy that fucks everything up and costs him money. I don't make him money. I am mad at him for not letting me go. I barely work as it is.
I don't like his attitude towards me most of the time anyway.

I guess I'll keep rambling on. I think Barack Obama is an arrogant nigger. He makes me sick too. The world makes me sick. People make me sick.

Fuck this! I'm going to double dose some seroquel and go to bed.

If you're reading this then you are.... fuck you!

My blog, My bitch session!

Well here we are again. And by we I mean my thoughts and I. It seems to me that there is no escape at all from my mundane existence. I'm still stuck in the same " no where " job, which by the way my boss is still constantly behind on my small hourly wage pay. I mean it really doesn't matter though. I'm 36 years old and rarely clear $300/week. On top of that there are no taxes taken out and absolutely no benefits. This makes it difficult to be able to afford my monthly psychiatric medications, psychiatric doctor visits, health insurance and daily cost of living. Which brings me to my next paragraph: The Cost of my Living.

What does it cost me to live? Well that's a good question. Most would answer this question with a vague dollar amount, but my answer is a little less than those of the general population. Here, I'll make a list.

1. First and foremost the cost of my living is my esteem. You see my esteem has be literately destroyed by a fowl-mouthed Father that has consistently put me down for as long as I can remember, He says otherwise, but I don't care what he says. The truth is actions speak louder than words. Anyone remember this cliche from childhood? On top of my loving Father, girls have constantly rejected me. Easily enough I have given up on them. Other reasons my esteem is almost non existent are the fact that I've really never had a good job with the exception of HiFi Buys and Precision Tool and Die ( which by the way fired me exactly a week after having a panic attack at work ).
A quick not on P.T.&D., The boys ( the owner's sons ) both suffer from some sort of mental illness. The youngest has O.C.D. and I believe may be on medication for it. The oldest has more complex issues and although I'm not sure what they are, it was difficult working side-by-side with him. On the day they fired me the oldest son, which by the way is a self-proclaimed Christian, told me that he didn't understand how I could be happy and talkative one minute and quiet and depressed the next. Hmmmm...
Yet another reason I've little self esteem is the fact that most of my peers throughout grade school viewed me as odd and constantly picked on me. Not a big deal.

2. The second cost of my living is the way I feel about myself; not so much my esteem, but my own external and internal self-image. The most important part of this is that I'm convinced there is not one peer in this world such as myself. In other words I feel utterly alone and know that nobody will ever understand me or even want to try. True no two humans are alike, but many have several things in common. For me they're few. I hate looking in the mirror. It sickens me.

3. Loneliness. Yes I have people in my life that I call friend. Some even may refer to me as a friend, but this is really not the case. I may be an asset in times of need for some, but a friend never. Nor am I much of a friend. I tend to disconnect myself from others. The reasoning is very complex, but I'll do my best to explain as abridged as possible:

People are NOT to be trusted!
NEVER let your guard down!
My heart is a rock.
Woman are always up to something and are only nice to you in order to either get something from you or to use you as a stepping stone.
Don't ever, under any circumstances, trust a self-proclaimed Christian.
I've been FUCKED by just about everyone I've ever encountered in my life starting with my Grandmother all the way up to my current boss ( with the exception of those " just acquaintances ".
I don't fit in with people, normal people, party people, happy people, wiggers, thugs, rednecks, etc... you get the picture.
All people are leaches

4. My nerves are shot. This is no exaggeration. When I'm home alone in my room and my Father calls just the sound of his voice calling makes me jump! If the phone rings in wrenches my stomach. I have trouble sleeping. My mind is constantly racing and often I become obsessed with my emotions.

5. I'm a failure. Period. I've never really accomplished anything in my life.

Those are just 5 facts that cost me my living.

I love this blog because this could very well be my suicide note and nobody will ever read it, not even after I'm gone.

When people commit suicide there are always the same remark: " I wish he would have talked to us " or " We could have helped him " or my favorite one " All the signs where there " People tend to act like they care after the fact, but people are much to bust caring about themselves to care about others.

The last time ( second ) I attempted suicide ( yes, a cry for help ) I was taken away by the police after a neighbor called them. My Dad was asleep and never knew anything about it. When I told him about it his response was " Why do you blame everything on me? All I want to do is make you happy. " He really doesn't give a shit about me. He never takes me seriously and he still considers me a " kid " as he calls me. He still calls me and tells me to come home and he still does his best to control me. I always submit because I can't stand arguing and yelling at all.

He will be one of the " He told me and I was too stupid to listen. " Assholes.

People are so easy to read for me that it has lost it's thrill. What once brought me so much fascination has turned into a dull and predictable game.

My psychologist tells me that I can change my life. Too bad no one will hire me due to a devastating misdemeanor on my record that CAN NOT be removed for the rest of my life due to state law. There is nothing I can do to better myself anymore. I've tried.

I intend on killing myself because unlike a teen that has so much life left, I'm 36 and have failed.
There is absolutely nothing left. The girl that likes me scares me because I don't want to get married or date and I don't want a quick fuck.
I don't want a relationship. I don't like answering to people.
I've answered to my Father my whole life and he is the LAST person to EVER have any type of control over me. True my boss does to an extent, but the only reason I work for him is because my Father insisted that I go back to work for him after six months of being out of work, by trying my best to find one. I was going to work at McDonalds or something, but he said no. I would have been a lot better off.

I may have a lot of nice possessions, but they only bring temporary joy. They are worthless without someone to share them with. The problem is that there is no one worthy of sharing them with.

I've decided to end my life. This is not a decision I've just made. I have been contemplating this for the past few years and have struggled with the pros and cons. I've thought it out and have " made my peace " with God. We ALL will never get out of here alive and I certainly don't want to endure anymore insults or disappointments in life.

The ONLY thing that would and could keep me alive is a winning lottery ticket. Why? If I had a substantial amount of money I would move away to another country and buy some " friends ". Everyone likes you when you buy them. I can no longer do this like I once could so I'm out... of time... of friends... of money.. of desire for anything other than death.

I'm not sure who to leave my things to. In my will everything goes to my Dad or my brother. If I could change my will all I have would be sold and donated to cancer research.

So with all this suicide threat how will I do it?

Oh the internet is such a wonderful tool. Seroquel is such a wonderful drug. What a peaceful way to go. The dream of all... to fall asleep and never wake up.

My birthday is in July and on that day I will silently take a walk saying goodbye to all I have known. Rather than leave a mess for my Father he will get a phone call a few days later when they find my body in the woods, asleep in a sleeping bag. The sky will be the last thing I see.
I want it to end this way because besides the human mind the sky is the most mysterious thing in the world, or is it around the world? Is it the door to the universe? Does God live just beyond human reach? The sky is humble. It provides us so much in the form of rain, wind, sun and darkness. The sky is a true love of mine. Sometimes I believe if the sky was a person that it would be my peer.

Well since no one is ever going to read this I suppose I can end this anyway I choose so....

You are the beauty you've never known
You are the love you've always longed for
You are the breathtaking smile
You are the sweetest smell imaginable
You are painful love
You may be lust, but it's true lust

Desire

You are the hug I never received
You are the kiss I've always longed for
You are the dream that never came true
You are the one who walks on by
You are perfect
You are the one who could have saved me

Love

You are small talk
You are a quick hello
You are as I, unknown
You are oblivious to me truly
You are a fire
You are a dream

You are my fascination

Not really a dream of Jesus

preface:

This is a true story and I will try to recount it to the best of my ability.

Last night I was up until about 2:00am. Lately I have been restless so my waking hours have increased gradually over the past few days. When I finally lay my head on my pillow I was immediately engulfed in a vision, a dream perhaps. But it was very real to me.

For just a moment I saw the face of Jesus. A face like the default picture many of you may imagine him to look like. Then the face quickly disappeared and I was struck with yet another image. This was of a man that was clean shaven. I could not make out the features of his face, but I knew it was him. I caught only a glimpse of him because I felt unworthy to look him in the eyes. Although rather than feeling guilt I was overwhelmed with contentment and an instant desire to bow to this man. At that moment as I glanced upon his feet I realized I was surrounded by many, many others. We were all in human form. I could smell his feet. It was a pleasant smell. There are know words to describe the way being is his presence made me feel, but I knew all those around me felt the same.

The only way feeling I can compare to this was how content I felt in just knowing he was there. I felt so safe and comfortable like a child in the arms of his loving mother or father. All I wanted to do was bow in his presence. Kneeling to him brought me joy like I had never known. It was the happiest moment of my life. This struck me as odd because in a literal sense bowing and worshiping someone doesn't seem like it would bring any joy. In my worldly mind bowing to someone seems like it would only be done if forced to do so. But bowing to him was the only desire I had. Although I could clearly remember everything that brought me joy or happiness in my life up to this moment all of them combined could not compare to just how amazing it felt to be in his presence. So powerful I couldn't dare look at him which was fine because even with my eyes closed I knew he was there and I was so content, so comfortable. I could feel his presence and it was ALL I needed.

This is a true story of a dream that came to me in the early morning hours of February the 10th, 2010.

I know that there are many skeptics that will never believe this. That's fine. I did not write this to try to convince anyone that God is real or to convert anyone to Christianity. I only wrote this to share my true experience. My only reply is that I hope that EVERYONE will someday feel the way I did in his presence. It is the only thing that I long for; to feel that way again. I can't wait to experience this again. When and where or even " if " I will never know. The truth of the matter is that I feel as though for whatever reason that Jesus shared his presence with me for a brief moment and gave me a feeling I will long for the rest of my life.

Donny

The story of my life

My name's not important
Nor is my age
My life's not a story
It's only a page

I haven't changed much
Since I finished high school
So many mistakes
And I never knew

How being so different
Would take control
And teach me of things
That I'll never know

I never had children
Or even a wife
I feel discontented
Having squandered my life

Seasons have come
And seasons have past
And all of my friendships
They never last

For this isn't a story
It's only a page
And if I could grow up
I'd act my age

So much time
has come and gone
I can't help but wonder
Where did I go wrong

People I've known
And places I've been
Always remembered
But gone with the wind

And today is no different
Alone in my room
hoping that Jesus
Would come see me soon

All I have left
is just a guitar
A light all my own
But never a star

A comforting moment
A moment in time
A joy and a sadness
And both of them mine

For this isn't a story
It's only a page
And if I could grow up
I'd act my age

Is the beauty of the world in the faces of the ugly?

So today after work I came home to find Dad in bed not feeling well. We decided to fend for ourselves for dinner so after a few hours of gazing into the television I decided to kill two birds with one stone by breaking the boredom with a trip to the Waffle House. What an enlightening evening.

As I sat there alone at the counter I couldn't help but feel the usual " we're so busy " tension in the air. The waitress asked me what I wanted to drink and as I sat there I began to look around. I started to really concentrate on everyone's face around me. My though process was interrupted by the laughter of some teen-aged girls sitting in a booth at the end of the counter. My immediate thought was that they were laughing at me as that is how my brain interprets unfamiliar laughter. I had to tell myself that they weren't laughing at me and somehow I mustered up the strength to look in their direction. That's when it hit me.

A wave came over my body. I started seeing people in a different way right then and there. A lump started to build in my throat. I looked around the room. I started concentrating once again at the faces before me. Beauty. I could see the wrinkles in the faces of some of the woman that worked there. Beauty. I could see insecurity and hurt in the face of the young, pretty waitress. An almost sadness, but still beautiful. There was so much life and pain all around me; So much hurt and sadness, but also a lot of hope. I began to wonder how many of these people were feeling loved. I mean can you be loved and feel loved even when you are away from the
" object of love ", i.e. the one whom you share this love with? I wonder because everyone in that Waffle House tonight carried a lot of pain. So many weather marks of life. I was just astounded.

I saw a lot of smiles tonight, but are smiles just a blanket to cover are true feelings? I've heard it said that if you learn to keep smiling even when you're sad that the smile will eventually turn genuine. I wonder if that's what some of these people tonight were trying to do. To cover their feeling with a smile from the inside out or from the outside in. I can only speak for myself in regards to smiling and for me it hurts. I smile to hide my feelings and to try and shrug off my overactive mind. The mind that haunts me. My only " true " smiles are just an alcoholic illusion. What extension of character, if any, is in a smile?

Anyway the point is that in these many faces; tired, ugly, wrinkled, dull faces is beauty. In the many shiny, smooth, young faces; there is beauty. Now the tragic thing to me is that upon these faces are miles and miles of life up until this very point. So if you ever really begin to look and I mean really look at someone's face it will indeed reveal something and it will be beautiful among the right light because to me there is even beauty in hate, in resent, in anger and in shame. Yes there is beauty among all of the ugly faces, maybe even my own.


A side note to why I wrote this down:

The past week or so has been very tough for me having run out of seroquel and going into extreme withdrawals. I was running a fever and had the shakes even more so than usual. Not to go into too much detail, but tonight my mind is playing severe tricks on me and I'm really thinking about going to the hospital. I'm again alone and afraid. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the night. I'm tired of feeling this way and just wish my mind would/ could settle down. I'm dizzy, I'm shaking and my stomach ( even well before I ate ) is very unsettled. I know I need help, but I'm so afraid to go to the hospital. Is my ( insert mental disorder here ) face my tragic beauty?

tradition ritual

When I look
In the mirror
I think I like
What I see

Because it's all
getting clearer
What has become of me

I see scars
of every size
But the deepest
are in my eyes

Evil-lution
but no change
looks like I'm losing
My favorite game

That's ok, yeah
It's alright
because tomorrow's
another fight

and they're are lines
Upon my face
That tell tales
Of better days

Wrinkles forming
On my brow
What has become of me now

Crooked teeth
Behind my frown
Another family
hand-me-down

That's ok, yeah
It's alright
because tomorrow's
another fight

And there is pain!
And there is love!
And there is war!
when push meets shove

And there is hate!
And there is shame!
And there is no one else to blame!

But it's ok
yeah it's alright
because tomorrow's
another fight!

Another battle!
Another fight!
Another day of lonely nights!

party time

I'm hiding from you... all
You see me jump
but turn other way
melting me
your confusion
or delusion

Are you safe?
Am I?

Bake your bread on my shoulder
Weigh me down
The television is truth
enough for you
but not for me

simplicity is complex
you have no compassion
death to the story teller
death to the truth

Beside me I sit
Tangled in your lives
condemned
sleeplessnes
The heart of the matter
is you
is me

feel me yet?

Another song on the radio
can you dance
forget your problems
you have none
I'll stand against the wall
in silence
awkward clothes

waiting

my 122112 is not a hoax

I've just spent the past several hours looking online for two things. Support groups for mental health ( depression, personality disorders ) and a glimpse of hope in finding a real job. I'm so foolish to even try. The more I look the more obvious it becomes to me that there is but one way yo solve my problems.

I just can't imagine myself enduring much more of these failed attempts to find some sort of self-worth. I think I'm supposed to go back to work tomorrow, but honestly I don't even have a real job and I'm not even sure if I'll be able to wake up in the morning. I've had to struggle and fight myself just to find the energy to get out of bed each day.

Now my Dad is telling me that he needs financial help. I can't even afford to take care of myself with the money I make. My car is having problems and I don't even know how I'm gonna get it fixed or how long it will be until I can't drive it anymore.

I've never been able to do anything right. Why even today while I was pumping gas into my Dad's work truck the fuel spilled on my new shoes. I tried to make a sandwich for lunch and dropped some of it on the floor. I even spilled the milk at breakfast. Anyway I shouldn't even be eating because I'm so fat.

I know this all sounds so pathetic, but like I've said before; no one will ever read this garbage anyway. It's just that I have always had trouble putting my feelings into verbal words. I've always felt better writing my feelings down. Although sometimes even this can be a challenge as my mind sometimes is incredibly inefficient at being able to comprehend its' own thoughts.

My nerves are so frayed that even someone coughing in the other room causes me to tense up. I'm falling apart. I am just so tired of my life. I'm sure nobody's life is exactly what they imagined it to be like as a child, but still many people are happy. I can't really find a reason to be happy except for the fact that I know God loves me. Besides that if I ever smile or laugh it makes me so mad on the inside. I don't deserve to be happy. Not even for a minute. I've done nothing that should merit a state of happiness.

I somewhat feel selfish for letting go. My niece may cry, but she will be alright. She's smart and beautiful and so unique that someone will no doubt love her someday in a way that I've never know. She will only miss me as a memory for a short time.

I will keep blogging until one of three things happen:

1) Someone will love me. I don't want someone to intervene because they " care " and don't want me to die. Everyone says that. Words are so light sometimes when they are read or rehearsed yet the weight of words of anger and drunkenness are crushing with unbearable force. So don't give me the speech you found on the internet about how you care or for me to think of others. Love me.

2) I find a feeling of self-worth. Be it in the form of a job. Someone to mentor
( which probably is not a great idea as I'm pretty unstable in mood ) or some amazing life transformation hahahahahahaha!

3) I finally quit writing about suicide and my pain. I finally quit rambling like so many before me in hopes that someone will feel me. I finally stop playing the broken record and say goodbye.

deep eyes

Oh oblivious child
You know not the pain you cause
Your smile is a dagger
cutting deep into my soul

Your eyes they drown me
I can smell you
I want to taste you
I live to dream you

You do not know me
You never will
Be here with me
soon

Understand me
love me
free me
complete me

A letter to the editor.

Well here it is; 2010 ( a space odyssey ).

It's January the second at about 9:30 at night and I'm sitting on the left side of my couch with my lap top, well, in my lap. I'm wearing a white button down shirt with a loosely worn blue tie, old jeans and some black etnies with lime green laces. I haven't shaved in over a week. I'm in a weird state of anxiety so I decided to write about my mood in no particular order.

As of now I feel very anxious as stated before and for some reason I also feel very un-optimistic about my future. I still can't seem to get a proper diagnosis of my
" mental condition " which means that there still is no hope of a proper treatment which means at the moment ( or ATM for you " others " ) there is no hope.

I feel like everything I try ends in failure. Well it has all ended in failure. I'm 36 years old and can't seem to hold on to one single friend. I have never even began to have a healthy relationship with a girl and every time a girl shows any signs of interest I instinctively run away as fast as I can.

I don't trust people and always feel as though they are " up to something " or that they hold unknown motives for showing interest in me or my friendship. Maybe part of the reason is because I give so much to others ( time, money, etc. ) that I dream of others returning the same sort of help and friendship. I know that these hopes are unrealistic, but still this is how I feel. Every time I've tried to give someone the benefit of the doubt they have let me down.

My work history has been unstable as well. I've had a few good jobs, but always lacked esteem towards myself, like it's never good enough ( what I do ) or I wish I could do better. Once I even got fired from a job for reasons I will never know, but coincidentally enough it was about a week after having an anxiety attack on the job. They told me I wasn't praying enough and to spend more time in the bible.

Deep inside I know it's me, but I also know it's everyone else too. No one is good enough or fair enough and everyone is all about themselves. I feel like my whole life I've just been a stepping stone for others. A free meal or someone to use. I have never earned a fair wage for my work except when I worked for HiFi Buys and the machine shop ( where I was fired from ).

Another thing that frustrates me about myself is that I am unable to cry. I haven't cried since around the age of 13. I'm not sure what the psychological reason behind this fact is.

I've achieved many of the goals I've striven for in my life and every time I've
" reached the top " it has meant nothing to me. I can remember a time in my life when I was so tired of being alone and fat that I set out to get in shape. I knew that people, especially women, are a very superficial breed and my only chance of even being noticed was to build my body to perfection. I did just that. I spent well over a year trimming from 280 plus pounds to a solid, muscular 155. Still hardly anyone noticed. I gave up and let myself go again. Misery weighs the same no matter what the individual weighs.

I also think it's funny how I write to get things off my chest, but these words will never be read or understood by anyone but me. I mean who really takes enough interest in someone else to read their thoughts unless that someone is maybe Justin Beiber or Madonna or Michael Jackson. Still here I am; getting it off my chest.

I've had vast swings of faith with God as well. I mean I've always believed in God and have been close enough to him to know without a doubt that he is real and did create me, but I've also been so angry at him that I've cursed his name. I guess the reason for those emotions are pure selfishness. I have spent too much time worrying about me instead of God. The funny thing is I've almost become dependent on my own misery.

I've tried to kill myself before and here lately there hasn't been a single day where I don't think about it. I've even sat down and researched ways of ending my life and come up with an easy, painless way. Sometimes it scares me to know that I could do it right this very minute. Still I'm hanging on, maybe with a false sense of hope.

I've been abusing my body a lot more than usual lately with binge eating and tobacco. There are times when I don't even shower. Sometimes I barely sleep at all because I can't and other times I'll sleep ten or more hours. I don't want to work anymore. Things have gotten really slow at work therefore my hours have been nonexistent which has made me completely apathetic towards work. Besides the fact that I'm not good at what I do and to this day have no idea why my boss would even want to keep me around. In fact I've only really been good at a few things in my life, but I've never been the best at anything.

I am so afraid of sex that I find it almost impossible to become aroused. I have no idea why. Maybe it's my weird attractions that hinder me.

I feel as though there are very few people alive or dead for that matter whom have ever seen the world the way I do and that is very discouraging to me. I desperately search for an equal, but fear that none will ever cross my existence.
I've always felt trapped in me; in my life. Along with feeling trapped in myself I feel destined to be alone and that scares me.

There is no one else in this world that angers me as much as my Father, but there is also no one else in this world that loves me more than him and I've lived with him my entire life and when he's gone I don't think I'll be able to make it without him; especially not alone. I really feel as though if I don't have someone close to me at the time of his death that I may also die out of sheer anxiety and depression. I'm sure I will have so many regrets to live with that it will be overwhelming. I've always told him that you can't take back words and that is just as true to all of us, he and I.

People anger me. I sit here alone like this very, very often and wonder constantly, " What is wrong with me? ", " Why doesn't anyone like me? " I feel like I'm slowly falling out of my prime and that my talents and loves are not only unseen, but unwanted.

I wish someone would stumble upon this blog and reach out to me. I wish someone would sincerely show me that they care about me; that they're interested in me and what I have to say.

If I had money I would almost be willing to pay someone to love me because that may be the only way someone would slow down enough to look.

Sometimes I think that if I killed myself my blog would become popular and people would say things like, " It was so obvious. " or " He was such a beautiful person; I wish I would have known him. " or maybe even something like, " What a great mind, he is the kind of guy I can only dream about. ", but alas I doubt even if I did take my own life that anyone would even sit through the news report if there even was one.

Sometimes I think I could be so significant and yet I know that I'm truly insignificant. I don't know if that makes sense, but nobody will ever see this but God and I and we both know what it means.

Look at this, it's after ten O'clock and still I'm alone on a Saturday night like so many Saturday nights before. I'm dressed and anxiously waiting for something to do, but I know that in a few hours I'll be miserably crawling under the cover in silence and despair.

I know I'm a good person, but I also know that something is wrong and it is literally killing me having destroyed my life to date. My childhood was stolen from me and my teen years were a blur. My twenties were consumed with alcohol and rage and now in my thirties all I can recall is sadness and disappointment.

In the end I wonder if I'm responsible for how I feel today. I wonder if it's my view of the world that keeps me from living in it or am I really so boring that I'm truly a waste of effort to even know.

I guess it really doesn't matter because here I am having wasted over a half of an hour blogging to myself only to feel worse than when I began in the first place.

Maybe I'll get mad. I do that often. Sometimes the smallest thing will sent me into a fit of rage. Something so insignificant as dropping a pill bottle on the floor will have me spewing words that could waken the devil. Sometimes I spend hours looking in the mirror, changing clothes and yelling at my reflection. My reflection is a truth and truth, however sharp and revealing is nothing more than fact and fact is rarely painless. Even when I was very fit I still had the face of an ogre.

Oh well at least I've spent time tonight doing something. I can't say it beats the alternative because what alternatives do I really have? Surf the internet? Commit suicide? All viable options and still equally harmless to the world around me.
Sometimes I think about the impact my death would have on my Father, but then I'm reminded of the fact that he's 65 years old and in bad health so he will not have a lot of years to suffer. He also has his sister to console in as she too lost a child to mental illness. I just don't want him to blame himself even though he is part of the " big picture " I forgive him because he is somewhat ignorant and oblivious to my emotions and also how to deal with them or his owns for that matter.

I only hold hatred for a few in this world, but none more that the hatred I hold towards myself. I've created a monster piece by piece and day by day since early childhood. Struggling sexuality, confiding in the wrong people as I reached out for help and giving to those who only take are are faults in my existence. I've searched all over the internet for theories on how God sees my life and how he would react to my death and according to my results it seems that God would not have me. I don't like to believe that, but if it's true then why would I want to to wait to die? If it's true that God does not see me or hear me ( which I believe he does ) then what is the reason for long suffering? I see none, but still I pause and hope. I hesitate to ask God for help sometimes. It's not that I doubt him because I don't, but I also know that even though at times he can bring me great joy the world still has to knock me down to reality and the reality is that this is where I live. This is where we all live.

I'm so jealous of the happy ones. Even now as I write this I can see those guys at the bar smiling, smoking a cigarette. They are all drunk and cursing and talking about girls and who they want to fuck and who they fucked and how much money they have and how crazy I am and the girls; The girls talk about how ugly I am.

I'm not stupid in that respect. I know how the one-eyed world sees me. I'm nothing more than the butt of a joke. Someone to talk about and spread rumors.

Even when I lost all that weight the rumor around town was that I " snorted : my way to a lighter stature. HA! I guess the truth is boring. Oh no, wait! The truth is here in the letter. The proof is right here! You have to dig for the truth and let's face it, you need a mighty big shovel to get to the bottom of this page let alone to the bottom of the " truth ".

Maybe I'm just a confused smart ass. Maybe I'm just a self-centered bastard. Maybe I really am crazy. Maybe no one will ever know or even care to do so.