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Saturday, November 22, 2008

All those who believe in psychokenesis, please raise my hand.

We had a small class about psychics and law enforcement. I liked it, but for the most part, the class was met with derision and howls of disbelief. Law enforcement officials are very much concrete, black and white thinkers. The realm of the spirit is lost on them. You can't handcuff what you can't see.

The rest of our classes were what you would expect. Physical training, chemical weapons. (Yes, pepper spray hurts. Like you can't believe it hurts. Whatever you were doing or planning on doing before being sprayed goes right out the fucking window. You just want the pain to stop...somehow. It is truly terrible and quite effective.)

We learned the psychology of crime, in that some folks just don't have any 'do right' in them. They can't help it. They will lie, steal and cheat when the truth would actually benefit them. And the truly criminal minded are not stupid. It's the wanna-be gangsters that may in fact be retarded.
Jesus. News flash...not pulling up your pants, does not make you a hard man. The phrase 'you know what I'm saying' repeated after every other word does not make you a criminal mastermind.

Get a job, pull your pants up and shut the fuck up. There.

We had a couple of weeks to go, almost six months of learning the way the 'other half' live. I was, in a way, proud that I had accomplished this, my past being what it was. My parents didn't know what to make of it.

(The professional psycho babblers would dissect this and have a field day with it, but graduating the academy is one of the most single proud moments of my life. The other moments were the births of my children.)

My twins decided to be here for my graduation. I was in class when I got a 911 beep on my pager. The balloon had gone up and my wife's water had broken. OH my God...I ran from class and drove in excess of 100 miles an hour through late afternoon traffic, without incident, to the hospital, adrenaline leaking from my ears, screaming at cars to get out of the way. Then I remembered, I was armed. A dangerous mix, but I held it in check.

She was not dilated to the proper dimensions and the Doctors were waiting it out. She wanted me to rub her back. I did so grudgingly. I was too caught up in what I was feeling, what I was going through. Party of one? Yep, Mr. Sensitive, at it again.

My best friend joined me for the wait and we smoked cigars on the loading dock, listening to the wail and wup of incoming ambulances and the summer specific song of the locust waiting for the moment. We talked about my kids, and the life they would have and what I could expect.

We had no idea. I failed to realize that no matter how much I loved my children, I was just not cut out to be a long haul parent. No matter how deeply I was involved in that fairy tale and still wanted to be.

Couldn't make the grade with the spouse, couldn't find someone to truly believe in 'for better or worse'.

Vows? A car warranty carries more weight.

I couldn't believe in me. And my children have suffered for that. (I am also ridiculously proud of my girls, for getting out of a dead end situation without my help and without my guidance and attending college on their own merit.)
I know my children have suffered because of me and am remorseful ...up to a point.

The failure of my marriages was a dual proposition. It really does take two to destroy a marriage.

I own up to my part, and fear I am alone in that regard.

I'm also afraid if I let go of my grief, I will have nothing left.

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.

Thank you all...