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Friday, November 19, 2010

When you come to a fork in the road pick it up...

He realized that slow, sluggish starts were simply the backwash of messy endings. For something to begin, something needed to end, and for him, it was never clear and concise.

He was at one of those places, the universe doing it's thing, bringing him to a new chapter, while throwing the last chapter into a shredder. It was increasingly difficult to hang on to shreds. A few crumpled pieces in his tightly clenched fists, with the rest collecting around his feet, and blowing intermittently across a pebbled parking lot.

He knew what he needed to do. Just couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted a neat, surgical ending and a bright and shining beginning, which was impossible while chasing confetti.

Clutching and grasping, he would collect some remnants, and chase the rest, missing most, and losing the few he held on to while grabbing at the remains.

It had been his experience that when things fall apart, they were in fact falling together, but this time the ride was losing bolts and screws and shaking apart and there wasn't much in his power to stop it.

So he relaxed, stood tall, put his head back and arms out and unclenched his fists.

He allowed the winds of change to wash over him.

He let go.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

...fall begins.

He wanted to shake his ego like a baby in mid-tantrum. It was causing him no end of grief.

For whatever reason, his brain was telling him his present circumstances were probably permanent, and that he was in fact, a grade-A fucking loser.

H wanted to change careers, in an economy that was driving degreed professionals into the fast food industry. Every day, resumes out and no responses in. He worked with undocumented Latins, who thought it was pretty great to have a middle aged white guy to abuse daily, and who took home less money than they did.

He drove a twelve year old truck-in various stages of decay- and rented a room in a two bedroom apartment, with three other middle aged roommates, all on their own medication schedules.

He was pretty sure his daughters were embarrassed by him so they kept a distance and he continued to be attracted to women he knew deep down were out of his league. He was good for one cheap date, then the financial bitch he was in generally brought any further developments to halting text messages and phone calls that grew less and less frequent.

His hopes and redeeming values included being sober for over a year and a half, and beginning to get into some kind of middle aged shape, through a drastic diet change and real exercise. His mirror in the shared bathroom was crueler than his three ex-wives going over his will.

Recently, after a boring shift at work, preparing over priced food for people with too much money, he had come home and started to read. That was still a pleasure he could count on, and he came across a quote from Dean Koontz that in an odd way, comforted him and gave him pause because it was alarmingly close to home.

"Of all the things I am, a killer is one of them. Not a murderer, but still a killer. And a fool. The only child of a mad mother and a narcissistic father. A failed hero. A confused boy. A troubled man. A guy who makes up his life as he goes along. A seeker who cannot find his way."

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...