One Year

Today marks one year since I’ve seen my father alive.  It was at our annual family Thanksgiving celebration, which I’ve been told by my uncle has been happening continuously since the 1950’s.

Here’s the last photo I took of my father, acting in only the way my father did, he’s the one on the right.

That’s him proclaiming “something” to my uncle Larry.  He was always so social, something I really didn’t understand until I went through this divorce.

This year really changed as far as our family gathering are concerned.  It’s compromised of a gathering of clans of our family.  3 to be exact.  This year one of those clans decided to go on their own, which reduced the number of people by half or more.

At first there were questions as to whether it would happen or not.  With all of the things I’ve lost in life this year, it really concerned me.  This was really the last thing I counted on in life left.

Fortunately, it did happen.  For that, I am thankful.  I am also thankful that I was able to share this day with my beautiful daughters.  They are the light of my dark life.

When I got home, I had a message from my mother.  It’s the first time I’ve heard from her since Valentine’s day.  Sadly, I must keep her as a piece of my past.  If she even knew what was happening I would not receive any support.  I would be greeted with “I told you so.”

What are you thankful for?

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After the incident that happened on that Friday the 13th, my now ex wife filed for an “emergency custody & visitation” hearing.

It rattled me to my core.  Indiana is known for taking the mother’s side of anything in regards to children unless the mother is a known drug addict or prostitute.

In the document I was served with, twice, she claimed that my child was not safe with me and that my mental status was questionable.  Nothing in the document had anything to do with my parenting abilities or lack there of, it had everything to do with what happened between my ex wife and I.

I got some legal advice from a family law attorney.  I wanted to hire him, but I didn’t have the ability to cover his $4000 retainer.  I was hoping she hadn’t hired one.

I showed up to the hearing late, as I was sitting at the wrong court room for 20 minutes.  When I showed up, the proceedings had already began but I was welcomed in by the judge.

She swore me in, and I apologized for being late.  It was me, my ex-wife and the judge, all within 3 feet of each other.  She then simply asked me what happened.  I told her the same story that I posted here.  I also mentioned to her how when I returned home from the hospital, all of the things we agreed on keeping at my home of our child’s was gone.  The only things remaining were toiletries and coloring books.

The judge’s eyes opened wider, and she told my ex-wife that what she did was wrong.  I could tell my ex-wife was scrambling to explain her actions, but no explanation was needed.

My ex-wife lied under oath and stated that I “pushed her down the stairs.”  That was impossible as a hutch was blocking the stairs at the time.  Her sister was at the bottom of those stairs, which provides a witness to that event.

The judge said that she saw no reason to modify the custody & visitation agreement, plain and simple.

I told her that I want to have my daughters together and will have my eldest with me when I have my other child.  She said that was good, and wants me to do just that.

At the very end the judge then proclaimed that “he gets her on Thanksgiving.”  I’m not sure how to take that exactly.  Before I walked into that courtroom was she trying to keep my child from me on the biggest holiday of the year for me?  I guess I’ll never know.

In the end, the justice system surprised me.  I’m grateful and appreciative.

On my way home from the hearing, I started receiving friendly texts from my ex-wife concerning bringing items back to my house.  It’s brought a flood of questions into my mind.  Is this really the woman I call the love of my life?  Is this really the person I vowed my life to?  Is this really the mother of my youngest child?  Perhaps one day, I will discover those answers, but for now I’m just left with questions.

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Starting Over

As of this moment, I’m basically starting over in life.  Not a move I wanted to make, but I digress.

I’m starting with my girls.  My first mission is to revamp what is now their space.  I just purchased a very nice bunk bed for them and will eventually have their room stocked as it should be.  My now ex-wife took everything of my youngest daughter’s except for her toiletries.  I’m not asking for them back either, like a phoenix I will rebuild.  Dad’s place will be special to her.  The home she came to from the hospital will always be a home for her, even if she isn’t there full time.

Then it’s a matter of building a new identity for myself.  I built my adult identity as a family man, but I have no family now.  I don’t expect or want a new one either.  I’m my own man now.  I’m not going to get anywhere by sitting at home like a bump on a log either.  It’s not going to help me, it’s only going to hurt me.  I need to get out there, unfortunately the peer group I typically hang out with is either 15 years older or younger than me.  It works against me in many ways.  I need new friends, I need single friends.  I need new experiences.

The first step is to blank the canvas that was created in my home.  I have a lot (and I do mean a lot) of holes to patch.  Once I get that completed, I think my mind can finally start to settle.  I’m just having some trouble with motivation.

I have a room mate, and I feel like I’ve won the lottery with this guy.  My home is cleaner than I think it ever has been at this point.  I only wish he would be here longer, because before you know it he will be leaving for his home in Oregon.

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It’s final (in many ways)

Friday the 13th, a date that will and already does live in infamy.  That’s also when my divorce was final.

It started as a typical day, but turned into something very dark, something I might pay a heavy price for.

My now ex wife (which I didn’t know at the time) had spent the day moving most of her things into the garage to prepare to move out the next day.  Her sister came down from Indianapolis to help.  I was under the assumption that she would not be there when I got back home from work.

I wanted everything she was taking to be put either downstairs or in the garage, as I didn’t want a bunch of people I don’t know walking through my house, potentially ransacking what they please.  I was going to do the good thing and take Amelia with me and we were going to have a fun day together, see a movie and go to the Wonderlab.

So I started moving what was left, heavy furniture.  There was a chest of drawers, a cedar chest, the dining room table and chairs and a hutch to be moved.  I figured it could be done that night, and I assumed that I could do it on my own (as she was supposed to leave that night and take Amelia to a birthday party).

I started with the hutch.  Rachel provided some assistance, but was not happy about it.  She kept saying that I wanted to break her things, I didn’t.  I just didn’t want them where they were.  We had problems getting it down the stairs, and that’s when she told me the divorce was final, and in a very snarky tone.

I don’t know why, but between that and the situation which was escalated by her sister, my anxieties got the best of me and I lost control.  I had to end the feelings within my body by any means possible.  I felt like I was going to literally explode.  My heart was racing so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of my body at that moment.

So I did something I greatly regret.  I pushed her.  I then got my handgun, loaded it and was going to end my life.  I never pointed it, but held it at my side.  Then I saw the tattoo I had put on my arm of my dad’s handwriting.  It reads “Try to do me proud. This is ol’ Dad signing off.  Love, Dad.”  It stopped me in my tracks.  I knew he would not be proud of my actions, I knew he wouldn’t want my life to end like this.

So I put the gun away, unloaded it and sat on my couch.  I knew the police were on their way.  I just wasn’t sure what was going to happen.  Was I going to jail?  Am I now a violent person who just did a cruel and harmful thing to my family?

Sure enough, the police did call.  They asked me to come out of the house.  I didn’t want to escalate the situation, so I did.  They had me put my hands on my head and kneel.  I was then cuffed and the handgun was confiscated under Laird’s Law.  The sheriff’s deputy said that he will try to have my lifetime concealed carry permit stripped from me as well.

They asked me what happened, and I told them much like I’m telling everyone here and now.  I’m fully aware this is publicly viewable, and that’s okay.  This is what happened.  They were obviously checking to see what the truth and what the facts were.  The police (and I can only assume my ex wife) took mercy on me.  No charges were filed.  Instead I was taken to the hospital on a 72 hour law enforcement hold because of my suicidal action.

The law enforcement officers were kind to me, and I understand what they did and why they did it.  I thanked them for their efforts and their jobs.  On the way to the hospital, I had a good and genuine conversation with the Sheriff’s deputy.

I was then placed into the detention center of the ER, a place I had never been before.  It was as interesting as it was frightening.  I had to remove all of my clothes and wear a gown.  A nurse graciously let me keep my cell phone until I was moved to the “crisis” unit.  I was then sold/pressured to sign myself into the hospital voluntarily as it would let me get out in 24 hours or less.  I came to find out later that was a complete lie.

That unit was what I like to refer to as “jail-lite.”  My room was very much like a jail cell in my opinion.  There was a jail like bed, a single chair and a camera pointed straight at the bed.  The room had 2 doors to it and it was cold, so very cold.  I was strip searched and they attempted to do a metals scan on me, but did not due to my VNS implant.  It was a small unit, and I was allowed to move freely around it.  There was a single bathroom for the entire unit.  There was a phone that I was told I could use freely.  I called my ex girlfriend and told her what had happened.  I was not able to use that phone again.

That night, nurses checked on me and I sobbed at times uncontrollably in that room.  I was scared, I was frightened and I was regretting the events that had taken place.  It was the closest thing to jail that I had ever experienced in my life.  I tried to sleep but couldn’t due to how cold I was.

The next day, I saw the psychiatrist and a counselor.  He obviously didn’t care, and the counselor took my statements and was consoling.  Within 3 hours I was moved to the “stress care” unit.  I was told how much better it would be there, and indeed it was better.

I had space, and I wasn’t as cold.  I was given a room with a room mate.  He told me that he was “hearing voices” which creeped me out a bit, but he stayed primarily in the room – so I stayed away.  I spent much of my time walking the unit, which is a U shape.  Walking 12 complete legs is a mile.  I can only assume I got in at least 10 miles or more in.  They had “day rooms” with TV and such, but I couldn’t access a newspaper.  That made me sad.

The nurses and staff were much more helpful than in the crisis unit, even though they were the same people.  One in particular was especially kind, giving me information that I wouldn’t have found out for hours had she not told me.  I went to a couple of group therapy sessions, one of which was very helpful for my anxiety.  Something called HeartMath, which is a way of meditation to control your heart and in turn control your brain.  It has helped me, and I’m currently on a regimen of exercises 3 times a day.  I was told that once I can notice the control, I can back it off.  But I don’t have that control yet.

Not an hour after that session, I was dismissed from the hospital.  My ex girlfriend picked me up and took me home.  It was a sad sight.  All of the things we discussed, all the things we agreed upon, she threw out the window.  All of Amelia’s things were gone, things she wanted to stay at daddy’s house.  The only things left are her toiletries and the coloring books she wanted to keep.  No clothes, no toys.  Her car seat was taken from my car and her bike was even taken, when she had previously said that it should stay there “because daddy is going to show me how to ride it.”

I couldn’t stop the tears, so I left.

On and off throughout my stay, I tried to contact Rachel but never got a response.  She then blocked me on facebook.  That let me know, and so I sent her a final email message.  I won’t contact her again.

I’m left with puzzling questions.  Questions that I probably will never get an answer to.  I was supposed to pick her up from school all week, and take her to her soccer lesson this week.  This weekend, I was supposed to have her as my first official weekend.  To poke and prod would just make things worse than they already are.

I’ve discovered that she’s requested a hearing to change custody and visitation.  This saddens me, but I understand the concern after the acts I did do.  I’ve said from the beginning, I must pay the price for whatever I have done, and that I will.

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It Doesn’t Feel Right

Today is my first full day back at work since my surgery, and it doesn’t feel right.  I would have never started or even thought of working at IU if it weren’t for Rachel.  I wouldn’t be a man with an open mind and heart if it weren’t for Rachel.

I wouldn’t be the man I am today if it weren’t for Rachel.  The woman who has shown through her actions that those things mean little to nothing to her.  She’s said many times that she “needs a fresh start.”  I don’t think she realizes that she doesn’t need a new relationship to have a fresh start.

Yet here I am.  Sitting at this help desk contemplating the past, because that’s what it really is.  I’m thinking about a person that no longer exists.  A figment of my imagination as it were.  I only want her to get better, and she’s in counseling but I haven’t seen how she’s benefited from it, other than giving up and letting go of her life.

On Saturday, my entire life will feel this way.  She’s moving out with the assistance of her new lover, his family and her family.  I’ve been tasked to stay away and keep our daughter.  It’s my first official weekend of visitation.

I know I’ll heal from this.  It will just take time.

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Goodbye IU

Suddenly this week, my soon to be ex-wife left her position at IU.  She didn’t leave for another position, she just left.  She had a good paying position in what I always thought of as a prestigious department.  In her 13 years at IU, she started as a temp worker then landed a job at the Kelley School of Business in their MBA program, then moving to Informatics and then where she was (which I will not name), then became the VP of the Bloomington Professional Staff Council, which she recently resigned her duties from.

I was very proud of her professionally.  She embodied everything I hoped to be in life.  I was not jealous, just proud.  I was proud to be her husband, and I’m sad to no longer be.

I don’t know how to take this news.  I’ve been a flood of emotions about it myself.  The only thing I want in my heart is for her to go out and do this thing she’s so hell-bent on doing, and see that guy she left is the same guy she married and upon seeing that, want to come back to me.  Of course my mind knows this is more than likely a dream, if I could only get those two organs to speak to each other, I wouldn’t be such a split man right now.

She’s a smart, and strong woman.  I know she will get back on her feet quickly, or at least I hope she does.

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Upgrade Complete

I’m not sure how long it’s been since I’ve written about my health issues.  Today I had surgery to replace the battery on my Vagus Nerve Stimulator.  It’s primary function is to control my epilepsy, and has been the only thing that has kept my seizures under control.

This is the 3rd time I’ve had this surgery, as the batteries last on average between 5 and 7 years.  The surgery went better than I had expected it to.  I actually woke up from anesthesia this time without any issues, which surprises me.  I really like the stuff.  The biggest difference is that they did not suture me this time, and instead used derma bond, which is essentially superglue.  I have basically no pain.

The model I now have is upgraded.  It has on board diagnostics and even monitors my heart rate and activates automatically if a seizure is detected.

By textbook terminology, I am a cyborg because of this implant.

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Almost Real

Today has been almost like what my new life will be.  Alone.

My former parents’ in-law came today and took those pavers they had wanted to so badly.

I stayed up until almost 5am in the hopes that I would sleep until they had all left, unfortunately my bladder couldn’t hold out.

So I got up and relieved myself and hoped to go back to sleep.  I couldn’t.  What I heard was very interesting however.

My soon to be ex-wife finally told her parents just what she’s doing.  They were obviously not happy about it.  Her mom said “You are rushing things, and it’s not good.”  Most of the time, I wouldn’t agree with her mother – but I do on this.  She’s running, and I wished she would just tell me what she running from or to.

Once they left, I hit the road and went to my other ex’s to see my daughter and get away.  We talked and had some good times.  Once my current wife and daughter left, I went back home.  I’ve been watching Netflix and getting used to the beauty of the silence in my home.

It’s dark, and depressing.  It’s my new normal.  Thankfully Netflix does a good job of helping me escape.  I know there’s a big chunk of me that needs to do just that right now, I just worry about being stuck in this world.


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A House, but No Longer Home

The packing of things has commenced, and it’s made me extremely depressed.  Most of the things that genuinely made this house our home are packed or in the process of being packed away.

It began last night.  I picked up my eldest daughter, and we had a nice family meal and then spent the entire evening packing up her room.  She didn’t want to take much home, I’ll keep her things until I can either restore her room to the way it was or she gets her own place.  The 1 thing I provided that child that made me proud was stability.  I was able to do that for almost 14 years.  She never had a question about anything at her dads.  Now all of that has gone out the window.

Tomorrow my ex-in law’s are driving 180 miles round trip, to retrieve about $10 in concrete pavers they gave us.  I really don’t get it at all.  It’s just 1 item that’s quickly becoming a laundry list of things that I’ll have to replace.

My TV, which lately has become my gateway to escape via Netflix is being taken from me.  I specced it out, and it’s the first flat screen HDTV that I’ve ever been able to call mine.  She’s taking it, god knows that she doesn’t need it where she’s going.  So I bought a new one tonight, a UHD (ultra high-definition) one.  I really shouldn’t have, but it felt so good.

Also tomorrow she’s also taking our daughter to meet her new “family” as I like to call it. (this is the part of this post where I get a bit hasty).  They’re going to go bowling (all 7 of them) and then my daughter is going to learn about where she’ll be living.  That mommy is going to be sleeping, kissing and doing god knows what else with someone who isn’t daddy, and that she’ll be living 30 miles away from everything she’s ever known in life.  I should put her in counseling now, and save the adult version of her from thinking this is normal behavior, running from a marriage into a serious relationship.

What my soon to be ex-wife is doing just blows my mind.  I shouldn’t concern myself with her anymore, and I shouldn’t even ponder these things but I can’t help it.  I vowed my life to her.  I don’t want to see her unhappy, and I don’t want to see her in an environment that isn’t conducive to her happiness.  That is what it seems like she is doing however.

I do have some good news though, the thing that I thought would be impossible actually is possible!  I have a very good chance at saving my home, and on my own.  So I’m taking that opportunity and seeing where it leads me.  I’ve changed insurance companies, as our homeowners policy had doubled in price in just 2 years.  I’m doing a lot of cost cutting, and it feels nice.

The future looks bright, but the present is so dark.  She said that she wanted this divorce so “we could heal the damage we have done to each other”.  Let me repeat, those are the words she spoke.  Her track record with her actions haven’t been matching those words at all.  Time will only tell if they do.  I’m not expecting them to, but it’s the only thing my heart wants.

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Of Mice and Men

I never read the book, but I did see the 1992 film that’s roughly based on it.  I’m starting to feel a lot like Lennie as of late.  I seem to be excellent at ruining any good things I have in life through actions that seem harmless to me.  The results of my actions never bring good things, the things I hoped.  They always bring the opposite.

The world is becoming more dark, and more scary to me lately.  I don’t know what to say about it, but it makes me want to hide in my shell and never come out again.  That is my current plan.

I had to say goodbye to a friend who’s been a breath of fresh air and at times the only person to give me a dose of reality.  Her husband has decided that he no longer wants to be a man, and in turn no longer wants her.  She came here for him, and this morning began the journey all the way across the country to where she came from.  I’ll miss her greatly.  I didn’t get to actually see her much, as our schedules just didn’t sync that much, but our talks were always a great motivator for me.

My motivations in life are currently focused on saving my home.  People are over rated at this point.  My hangup is that my connections to others have always made me feel whole, like a regular person.  I need to learn to love the freak I am within.  I shall drown my sorrows in whiskies and Netflix.  It’s a good distraction, and distraction is the only thing that is going to help me through life at this point.

I don’t need to change myself and “be” something for someone.  I don’t need to look for someone, I don’t want to anyway.  It just really hurts when being yourself is given the same negative reactions that caused me to be anti-social in the first place.

My biggest hangup is that I honestly don’t know what makes “me” happy anymore.  I gave everything of my being to my marriage.  What made me happy was to see my wife and children happy.  To bring them happiness, made me happy.  I’m loss as to how to change that.

So there you have it.  I feel like a socially awkward, mentally disabled 35-year-old who kills the things he loves the most.  I’m emotionally damaged to the point where I can’t understand how that can possibly change.

I have to learn how to live with that or it will destroy me.

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Yesterday, I became something I never thought I would be, a landlord.  I don’t know how to think of it exactly.  I’m just trying to save my house, but I know I can’t do it on my own.  I’ve been talking to this guy for a while now, he’s in the area for a while on some family business.

Now to find a 2nd tenant, as much as I’d love to just have 1 room mate, I can’t really swing it that way, as my income will soon be dropping by $200 a month.

I have a prospect, but I’m unsure if the reward is worth the risk with this one.  It’s my (now get ready for this) ex step aunt’s son, or could be explained as my half sister’s cousin.  He is supposedly a high functioning person with autism.  His mom called me and said that she wants him to be a little more independent and leave the nest.

I worry that his mom might take that as an invite to be a 2nd tenant, and want me to take over all of his needs.  I have enough on my plate, I’m just renting out space here I have enough projects in life.

I’m working on several angles at the moment.  I have 2 upcoming job interviews that could potentially take some of the pressure off of me.  While I do enjoy the role I’m in currently, I know it’s just a stepping stone for me.  I’m also trying to get my mortgage payment lowered.  I’m also going to see if I can get my escrow account closed and pay for my insurance and taxes directly.  My mortgage payment isn’t really the issue, it’s that escrow account.

The reality of my new life is starting to become actuality.  It scares me.

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The Things We Do for Those We Love

I had quite the adventure yesterday.  My high school sweetheart and mother of my eldest daughter, asked me if I wanted to go out-of-town with her.  She and I are on really good terms and due to my situation I’m always looking for a reason to escape.  So I agreed.

Her niece, who will always be a niece to me was in some trouble.  She was practically being held captive in her baby daddy’s parents’ home.  They took her car keys, shut off her cell phone and even made it so she couldn’t access wireless internet from within the home.  She was made a prisoner from within the home she’s lived in for the past year.

She has a daughter and is pregnant with their son’s child.  Her relationship with him has been on the rocks, and they gave her an eviction notice, effective November 1st.  I can’t even comprehend this fully.  Is this how you treat the mother of your grandchildren?

When my ex and I were together, it was a tradition of sorts for her and I to watch her (she was under 10 at the time) every NYE.  It was weird to be a teenager and feel at ease to play family for a night, but they are fond memories that I genuinely cherish.

She lives almost 4 hours away, so we left my house at 8am and started on the journey.  We had lots of talks and connection between the 2 of us.  We’ve had our ups and downs but we’ve smoothed them out over the years and are really good friends and co-parents.  We still struggle with some things our daughter does (or doesn’t do), but we are proud of the person she has become on the inside.  If she would only bring those amazing qualities out for the world to see.

So we get there, and get a uhaul truck and drive to the location where K is staying.  I’ll keep her name is as that.  We pull into the driveway and one of the homeowners tell us to get off the property, so we oblige.  My ex and the homeowner then get into a somewhat heated shouting match.  I’m not there to do anything but move stuff, but it’s even stressful on me.

My ex calls the police, and they show up.  The guy is from Bloomington and graduated from BHS (when Bloomington only had 1 high school).  He then tells us that he knows the homeowners.  K comes out, and they lock the door behind her, at first they refuse to let her get any of her things.

Again, I don’t understand.

After a standoff of sorts, things start to come.  At first I wasn’t sure how little or how much we would get.  We eventually filled an entire uhaul truck.  I was kinda shocked at the amount of stuff she had.

We then quickly unloaded most of it into a storage unit K had purchased and then went to dinner with K and the on again off again boyfriend and her daughter.  My ex had them do a birthday thing for me (which embarrasses the hell out of me) but it was quick, and she’s fun.  She bought me dinner too, I’m appreciative.

By this time it was 6:30pm and the ex and I were on our last bits of energy.  We were tired and still had almost a 4 hour drive home.  We got to the place where K was going, and had to unload the rest of the truck up 3 flights of stairs.  She and I were ruined by that.  We dropped the truck back off at uhaul.

I made a big mistake when we dropped the truck off.  I had found an 80’s station and this infectious tune came on.  I cranked it up and it took all the pain and frustration from the day away for me.  I had turned the cab and cargo area lights on so my ex could clean it out, locked the doors and forgot to turn them off.  She put the keys in the drop off and we had no way to turn them back off.

We then finally made the journey home.  I made it home right around 11:30pm, and took a shower and went to bed.

The lesson here?  I had a full day, and I accomplished something.  It was selfless, it was for someone I love.  I’m starting to really feel like an adult (weird to finally think that at 35, I know).  Don’t worry, be happy.  It’s a new way to look at life.

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Today’s Been a Good Day

To give props to Ice Cube, I haven’t had to use my AK because today has been a good day.

I woke myself up this morning via my alarm clock.  Something I haven’t had to really do in many years, as my wife preferred to wake me up.  It was nice to feel her hand touch me to let me know the morning was here, time to get ready for the day.

I’m starting to appreciate the things that I no longer have.  It hurts my soul tremendously.

I came to work, and it’s been a good day so far (still have 4 hours).  I have a couple of errands to run after.  I’m not stressed, I’m not highly emotional.  I’m in a state that’s hard to describe at best.

The best thing I can do at this point is remember the good times, and try to forget the bad ones.  I’m losing the best thing that has ever happened to me.  They say when one door closes another one opens.  For me, this has never been true.  It’s always been a situation where I’m trapped in that room until I can find a way to get out of it.

I’m trying my hardest to not be trapped.  That’s what has made today a good day.

UPDATE:  Of course I was being way too optimistic in my post.  I ended up getting my theoretical AK out, and we had a full on argument.  I think there is much built up inside the both of us, and knowing the fact that neither of us like to argue – we go all out over IM.  The wise part of me knows that no healing will begin until we get those frustrations out, whatever the outcome may be.

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The National Rifle Association

A few months ago, I purchased my second handgun.  This is the first public mention of it.  The model to be exact is a Taurus P111 G2, chambered in 9mm.  It’s a great compact concealed carry weapon.  I happen to be a firm believer in the 2nd amendment, but I do believe certain views of it are outdated and some change needs to happen.

I was raised with weapons all around me, and have always been a natural with whatever firearm I shoot.  Whether it be a handgun, an AK-47 or a shotgun.  I’m a good aim.  With that much power, comes responsibility.  I’m a responsible firearm owner, and hold human life higher than anything else and would only take a life in the defense of another.  I wanted to join the military but a diagnosis of epilepsy at 16 prevented that from happening.

With the number of mass shootings in this country skyrocketing by the day, I sometimes don’t feel safe anywhere I go.  I had a gun pulled on me in my early 20s by someone who can only be best described as a hoodlum.  It scared me right to a gun shop.  The fact that I work at a very large geographical location that bans weapons from being held by anyone but police?  I don’t want to die at my job because someone didn’t like the support we gave them just like I don’t want to die while watching a movie.

As a part of the purchase of the firearm, I was given a free 1 year membership to the NRA (National Rifle Association).  I took it, and accepted a subscription to one of their magazines, called “America’s 1st Freedom.”  At first glance, I just received the 2nd one today this is a magazine filled with very right-wing values.  Any views or stances against a militarized population who has access to full automatic weapons seems to be against their views.

I joined to get an insider’s perspective, and while I totally understand the whole left/right perspective to get a middle consensus, this is just unhealthy.  They seem to be a breeding ground for the mental issues that seem to be the majority of reasons for the mass shootings I spoke of earlier.  You would totally think than an organization such as the NRA would want a healthy talk of different viewpoints, and healthier individuals sending their message across the country.  This is not the feeling I get from their literature.

Regardless your views, without weapons we would not have been able to overthrow the British.  It’s only right that we have the same capabilities in proportion if actual government tyranny were to happen again.

My view is pretty simple and understandable.  Wouldn’t criminals be very leery of committing crimes if they knew a majority of individuals were armed?  It’s not about being loud and proud.  It’s about being silent and at the ready, much like the minutemen of the 18th century.  You only get one life, and I don’t want mine ending for reasons other than my body being finished.

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I’m in a mood to just get a lot of things out.  They may not be clear thoughts, they may not be proper thoughts.  They are however my thoughts.  My mind destroys me at times, I’ve been told it’s a common Scorpio trait.

I’ve had 2 serious romantic relationships in my life.  In those relationships, the female was always very quick to take the lead on just about everything.  I just seemed to be there for the ride.  Hindsight is 20/20, but it’s definitely a part of the equation in the breakdown of my marriage and previous relationship.

My love affair with technology is too much for women to handle at times.  Why?  My computer never judges me for not earning enough.  My computer never makes me feel like a bad father because X, Y, or Z are doing things with their children that I do not.  If you want to make me feel judged, I will hide.  My flight instinct is the strong one.

Going back to hindsight, I should have divorced her when I discovered her secret email account containing her relationships with other men.  Of course I couldn’t though, because I loved this woman with everything of my being.  So stupidly I offered an open marriage as a choice.  Not because I wanted to but because I’m horrible with ultimatums.

I’m still paying the price for that decision.  I will be doing so for the rest of my days.

I should have never became paranoid that she was going to leave me, the present is proof of it.  This turned me into a monster of epic proportions.  Key loggers, hidden cameras, constant surveillance.  I used my IT skills for evil for the first time in my life really.  It became a cat and mouse game.  I just wanted to ensure I got the truth.  I still firmly believe I’ve only gotten half-truths since I’ve given up my ways.

That’s the other part of the equation in the break down in our marriage.  It’s hard for either of us to believe a thing the other says.

Today has been somewhat heated between her and I for some reason, and I’m not exactly sure why.  Is it the culmination of all of these things floating around my brain?  Possibly.  Is it the fact that I feel very alone in the world right now?  More than likely.  It’s come to the point where a bad interaction is better than no interaction at all.

I’d rather have a fist fight than make love.  It’s sad, but it’s what has become of me.


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The 5 Stages

I’ve been thinking about the Kübler-Ross model for stages of grief, it has 5 of them to be exact.  I didn’t really go through that with the loss of my father.  He lived a good life, and I was proud of him as a person.  The biggest problem I had was the loss of his presence.  He gave me comfort.

With the divorce however, I have definitely seen myself slide through those stages.

  • Denial

I was in denial for a long time.  Years to be exact.  She did many things that I was in denial about.  But did I ever think she’d actually file for divorce and be so head strong about it?  It still blows my mind.  There is nothing to deny now however, it’s all a matter of record and it’s pretty obvious that the feelings she once had for me have resided.

Sadly my candle of hope lingers on.  There is a big piece of me that wonders if she’s just checking other yards to see if the grass is greener, or has an urge to dip her toes in the pool of men in the world.  Time will tell us all.

  • Anger

The easiest of emotional states to be in.  I still get triggered from time to time.  Right now, I feel as a failure, not just to two children and to a wife but to myself.  Then to add another person to the mix who can slide right in and do all of those things we did as a family?  That’s below the belt in my book, but he’s just a “friend.”  I’ve threatened to kill people, I’ve pondered committing suicide.  It’s so easy to go there.  It’s blown me away how easy it is to think these thoughts during such a hard time.  My mind is very much like the Billy Joel song “I Go To Extremes.”  For me it’s always been a defense mechanism.  You know if I care about something if I get angry about it because I fight for it.

  • Bargaining

I still do this from time to time.  As I’ve said previously, I’ll always want her back.  I will be married to her in my soul forever.  I still tell her that too, hoping she will say something similar and justify what I have just said.  I never get direct answers however, just enough to make my addictive personality want another fix.  There really has been no real bargaining, just dealings with an emotional terrorist of sorts.

This will stop swiftly I’m sure, as her words have a way of calming me but her actions do the opposite.  There’s no reason to bargain with someone who is actively making these choices.

  • Depression

I currently reside in a state that bounces between this stage and the final stage, acceptance.  I definitely have my fair share of good days, and bad ones.  I had my first shower in 5 days today!  Why be clean when you have no one to be clean for?  Why be a good and productive person when the reasons for doing so no longer exist?  I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad lately, as he was about the same age as I and I was about the same age as Amelia when my own parents divorced, 5 months difference to be exact.  (That factoid REALLY hurts my soul) What would dad have done?  The only things I have to motivate me are my technology, my home and my job and the status of one of those things is questionable.  For a person whose only dream in life was to be married and have a family, it’s like being the king of a kingdom of 1.

Many have told me to seek counseling.  I actually had a few months of counseling in the spring, and stopped when she decided she wanted to “try” again.  I’ve had so many years of counseling in my life that I’m not sure how it would help at this point.  Psychological tools won’t help me.  Removing the pain and torment through any means necessary will.  I think this is a fine time to take up something I’ve had very fine control on most of my life, alcohol.

  • Acceptance

I’ve accepted the fact that my life as I’ve known it is no more.  I’ve been living it for 6 weeks at this point.  I’ve accepted the fact that the person I vowed my life to no longer loves me romantically.  I’ve accepted the fact that my 6 year old daughter will soon share something with her 16 year old half-sister that I never thought would happen, that I never wanted to happen.  A thing that scarred me so badly it caused me to try to get a vasectomy right after my eldest was born (I was refused that by 3 doctors by the way).  Something only their father genuinely understands from their perspective.  All of those previous statements depress me, and that’s why I’m in an if statement with no exit strategy at the moment.


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Back to the Grind

Today is my first day back at work since the procedure.  I’m tired and in some pain still.  Primarily because the chair I’m forced to sit in gives too much support in that area.  I have no options or alternatives.

Over the past few years, I’ve become addicted to something that’s really hard to let go of.  Talking to people.  It may sound odd or peculiar but it’s true.  I talk to people from the moment I wake up until the time I go to sleep.  It really has controlled my life.  So I’m really working on cutting that back.  My first step is to cut out the amount at which I speak to others.  I’ve done pretty good at that.  It’s really shown me some things about myself and where I stand in other peoples lives.  The connections I’ve made with others mattered much more to me than it mattered to others, at least their lack of action has proven that to me.

Last night I received a promising call.  A gentleman would like to rent a room in my home.  He wants to sign the lease and move in as soon as my soon to be ex wife and daughter are out.  He should be in town until April or May.  So not long term, but better than nothing.  That’s all I can expect at this point really.   I can only assume my ad on Craigslist for renting out my home will be there in perpetuity, amongst all of the high priced places for $600 a room.

I’m writing in this blog at the moment because my mind wants to get all of these thoughts out, but I’m tired of talking people just to talk.  So I shall broadcast instead.

I miss talking to my wife.  I will totally put the blame on my addiction on her.  It was with her that I would talk all day every day through instant message about our days, while we carpooled together.  It gave us closeness that I don’t think many people understood.  Now that closeness is gone, and even though we still talk there is a irrefutable *thing* in the air that keeps us distant.

I’ve tried all of the online dating sites.  Wow.  It’s appalling actually.  Most of the womens’ entries have along the lines of “I like campfires and fishing, and my kids always come first” with typically a line in there about being tired of games, lies and hookups.  Such an aggressive stance for someone reaching out, no?  It makes a guy like me run for the hills actually.  That’s just the first gate, the hurdle is even messaging most of them as many of the sites require you to pony upwards of $70 a month for the opportunity.  Not money I’m willing to spend.

So I’ve went to my past, and tried to re-forge connections.  I’ve reconnected with a girl (now woman) who I’ve had a crush on since middle school.  Come to find out, she and I are very similar.  Sometimes it’s downright scary how much.  It isn’t the right time for anything more than forging that bond though, as she and I are both badly damaged from relationships.  Which is fine for me.  I’m trying to forget the past by creating a new future.  The more things I can do with the more people, the better I am mentally.

Other than that, the world is pretty dark right now.  The uncertainties in my life are driving me insane.  I’m not sure if I’ll be able to rent out enough of my home to keep it.  If I can’t keep it, I will need to get rid of most of the remaining things of the house and pare down my things until they fit in a room.

So in many ways, I’m not just losing a relationship.  I’m losing everything I’ve spent the last 14 years of my life on.  It’s a bitter pill, but I’m swallowing it because I have no other option.


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We all have vows we make.  To others, to ourselves and to higher powers.

To me there has only been 1 vow that meant anything in my entire life, my wedding vows.  I said them before an audience of friends and family in a church where 3 generations of my family were married.

It was an event I looked forward to my entire life, and was indeed worthy of what I had imagined.  Yes guys think of their wedding day.  They may not plan it like women do, but they certainly have ideas.

Not to turn this personal blog into a place for political discussion and opinion, but marriage as a social issue has been a big-ticket item lately.  The 1 thing you don’t hear about are those who follow through on the “til death” part, even if they do end up divorced.  My grandmother did that, and I am doing the same.

Just so it’s clear, I’m going to all caps bold proclaim it.  I AM NEVER GETTING MARRIED AGAIN*

You’ll notice the * there.  The reason you ask?  It’s simple, I vowed my life to 1 person.  She may not feel the same anymore, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.  But if at any point in time she decides she wants me back into her life, I cannot do anything but welcome her back with open arms.  Why?  Because again, I vowed my life to her.  She holds a spot in my heart and soul right next to my children for the rest of my life.

Just because she doesn’t hold those words she spoke to me as in high of regard as I do, doesn’t give me the right to throw them away as she has done.

Many have said that this will cause any potential love interests to run away.  If so, they aren’t the right person for me.  If I end up alone for the rest of my life, that is how I shall be.  This is how important that vow is to me.

Right now, I feel as if I wasted my vow.  Hope is a dangerous thing however, and there is a candle of hope deep within that is burning for the memory of those vows we said to each other on August 14th, 2004.  I only hope that she feels the same.

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She’s Moved On

6 weeks ago, my partner of 14 years and my wife of 11 filed for divorce.  The reasons are varied, and according to her it’s something that must be done.  I simply see it as giving up.  Giving up on a lifelong vow, giving up on a family, giving up on a relationship and giving up on a person.

I’m not going to go on and on about how she shouldn’t do this, how I want her back, or anything like that because it won’t do me any good.  It’ll only add hurt to a soul who’s been tortured his entire life.

The big reason for the divorce is trust.  We have destroyed that in each other.  Secondly, she no longer loves me.  The why part is hard to digest and hard to explain.  She’s fallen for the charms of another man, one who has just divorced himself.  Rebound anyone?

All requirements for the divorce to be finalized are completed except for a 60 day waiting period and a judges’ signature.  There is no going back.  We have split everything up except for our home of 9 years, which I am trying to save.  Neither of us can afford it on our own.  I am trying to get a couple of room mates to help me pay for the mortgage and utilities, as well as trying to do something to lower the mortgage payment by any means necessary.

If that plan fails, our home will simply go back to the bank and I will be on the other side of that door.  I will be seeking a room to rent, as I certainly cannot afford to rent even a 1 bedroom apartment in this town anymore.  This is the reality of my life now.

People try to help, but many of their words hurt more than help.  Telling me to “love my children” does the opposite of helping me.  I see my children and I see 2 failures in my life.  I see the 2 women who loved me, but decided to love someone else instead.  I see 2 relationships and 2 families that are irrevocably damaged.  I see 2 children who will (and have) have to endure the same things I never wanted for my children, at all costs.  The moving back and forth, the split holidays, the split everything.  Because of that, I feel like I failed them.  I can’t let them know, but that’s how I feel inside.

A lot of people wonder why fathers abandon their children.  It’s just a guess, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that was a common thought with divorced and separated fathers.  No, I’m not abandoning my children.  Do I want to see them and love them?  Not really at this time, it hurts more than seeing the face of my soon to be ex.  It’s as if I have to remove those memories from my brain in order to move forward, a hard but not impossible task.

I was pretty fortunate as a child, and I believe my children are as well.  The 1 and only thing I wanted for them was to have a “nuclear” family.  The 1 thing I never got.  The 1 thing I’ll apparently never be able to provide them.

Life goes on however, and so will I.

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Baby Maker: Offline

On Thursday I underwent a procedure that eliminates my ability to have anymore children, called a vasectomy.

Sexual health and responsibility is something that is often placed on women, entirely.  I know that throughout my entire life, it has been that way.  My mother had a tubal ligation after the birth of my sister, and I’ve always relied on the women in my life for that responsibility.  I didn’t actively refuse, it just happened that way.

Children are often called a blessing in life, and I totally agree.  They however were never an “active” thought for me.  They just happened.  I never “wanted” children in my mind, I did welcome them into my life however.  Some may not like to hear that opinion from a father, but it’s how I’ve always felt.  Over the years I’ve had to, or have been asked to censor myself, but no more.

I have 2 daughters, and I’m almost 35.  I don’t want anymore children, and it’s only fair and proper that I take a stance on that.  I’m also never getting married again, but that’s another tale for another post.

I was quite nervous for the procedure.  I’ve had numerous surgeries and procedures done on me over the years, but nothing in the general vicinity.  I was prescribed a pain pill and xanax to take 30 minutes before the procedure to calm me and help.  They certainly did.  I knew a needle would be entering my scrotum to dispense a general anesthetic.  This was the part that concerned me the most, I’m not sure why because I didn’t even feel it.  The urologist then cut a small hole into my scrotum and pulled my vasa deferentia out, one at a time.  He then clamped each one individually, cleared some nerve endings off them.  He then cut them in 2 places and cauterized both of them and placed them back.  He then placed a couple of disovable stitches on the hole.  Procedure done.

I asked if I could keep the 2 inch long piece of each of my vas deferens that he had snipped, but unfortunately he had to keep them for “legal reasons.”  It would have been nice to keep that piece of myself for some interesting reason.

While I technically can no longer deliver fresh sperm to an egg, I can cause a pregnancy for 3 months, as the sperm like to hang on for dear life.  So I have to give a sample in 3 months to ensure infertility.  I have also read in some parts of the internet that a yearly test is a good idea as well.

It was literally easier as far as pain goes than getting blood drawn.  I’m surprised every man doesn’t have this done at some point their life.  With the Affordable Healthcare Act, this procedure is paid for 100% by insurance, making it even more of a no brainer.

For the first 36 hours or so, I became close friends with 3 bags of frozen peas.  As of today, I still have a little pain, but have given the peas a break.  I’ve been a bump on a log and stayed on my couch.

I look forward to not worrying about the potential of becoming a father, because I did something about it.

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