Catching Up – Midlife Crisis

This is a bit out of order, forgive as there is just so much to catch up on.

The divorce didn’t leave me with much.  I got lucky on several things except for my method of transportation.  I was left with the car my now ex-wife had when I met her, a 2001 Kia Rio.  I referred to it as the “Clown Car.”  As there was literally no leg room in it in the back seats when I sat up front.

So I did what I had to do.  I didn’t make enough money to afford anything.  I was trying to save my house at the time.  I took ownership of it, did some maintenance on it, tinted the windows as it was the hottest vehicle I’ve ever seen in my life.

That was until I took my daughters on a shopping spree for that Christmas following the divorce.

We were on our way back from Indianapolis, when suddenly smoke started filling the car.  We suddenly had no heat.  I knew any repairs to this car were going to be costly.  The car was only worth about $1500 as it was.

Throughout the divorce process, I had been interviewing for the job I currently have.  When this car broke down, I made enough to afford that car payment and extra cost for full coverage insurance.  So I started thinking, just what do I want?

That’s when I came to the sad realization that manual transmissions aren’t something you can get easily in a lot of vehicles these days.  It broke my heart.  I wanted a manual transmission, as I’ve had several issues with automatics.

So it came down to the final 3.  It would be either a Jeep Unlimited (4 doors), a Chevrolet Colorado (4 door) or a Chrysler 200.

I ended up just buying the first Jeep I saw.  A 2010 Jeep Unlimited Sport.  The first thing I did was jump in the back seat – to make sure my very important passenger would have enough room.  This was critical to me.  Boy did it.

Even though it was used, I still had to pay out the nose for it.  My credit had been ruined by the ex-wife, so I had to pay an exorbitant interest rate and my monthly payments are almost as much as my mortgage payment.

But seeing the smile on that little girl’s face, makes it all worth it.  Every single penny.

Two and a half years later, I’ve put over 40k miles on it.  We’ve criss crossed the country.  Going as far west as Yellowstone National Park, and as far north as North Dakota in it.

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Catching Up – That Was Unexpected

As I said in my previous post, I started reaching out to old classmates of mine for IRL social needs.  I met one of my old classmates at a BBQ joint for lunch one day.  Instantly something just felt different about her.

We never really knew each other while in school.  She was in a polar opposite world than I was.  I was what was commonly referred to as a “hick” in my outward appearance.  She on the other hand was all heavy metal, and even had a mohawk in high school.

But on the inside, wow.  I felt drawn to her.  I didn’t know why, and I still don’t fully.

She invited me to go to the drive-in with her and her kids.  Something my ex-wife hated, another thing of life that I genuinely missed.  So I went, it was a no brainer.  We went to the drive-in several times together.

We talked non stop, about everything and anything.  We quickly became close.  She was my best friend, my confidant, the person I ran to with new and/or exciting information.

When talking with other friends of the female persuasion, they told me that some of the things we discussed weren’t things that girls normally talk to “friends” about.  My mind wondered and stewed on that heavily.  Do I make a move?  Do I ruin this good thing I have going on in life?  I’ve had so much bad stuff happen, my fragile soul just can’t take rejection right now.

So one night, after bringing her and her kids back from the drive-in, I made a move and kissed her.  Nothing more, nothing less.  I showed where my mind and my heart was to her.  I was going to leave it up to her on where it went from there.  I would be okay with any direction it went.

After a day of biting my nails until they bled, she was receptive but anxious at the same time.  Life hadn’t been so good to her, with health, vocation or relationships.  She was still technically married to her husband but had long since been separated and apart from him.  He had a girlfriend, and she had went through several boyfriends since they parted ways.  She too was done with the opposite sex.

We just sort of fell into this whirlwind romance and lived by our hearts.

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Catching Up – The Plan

My life post divorce was that I didn’t have one.  For a good while, that didn’t bother me at all.  I was always doing this or going here, and I was tired of that.

I worked my job, I binge watched TV shows I had never been able to see before and for the most part I was happy.  But how much happiness does that sort of life lead?  I’m somewhat of a social creature, for the most part the internet helped fill that void.  I was lonely though.  I needed touch, I needed affection, I needed intimate physical contact.

So I did what most people do these days, I put ads on dating websites/apps.  What a disaster that was.  It instantly showed me what our society had turned to, and I didn’t like it.  I dated a lady who lived 50 miles away for a few months.  We had some good times, but in the end, she turned out to be completely not trusting and wanted to control how I operated my life, and my actions.  That’s when I said goodbye to that world for good.

So, I had to formulate a new plan.  I was done with the thought of dating.  That’s when my next step came to be.  I was the guy in school who everyone knew.  I was social enough to be noticed.  Not everybody knew me, I only had 2 close friends ever.  But, the thought of reaching out to those people I could find and catching up with them, to see how life has treated them seemed really appealing to me.

So I started reaching out.  I haven’t had that much luck, but it’s a goal.  It’s something that keeps my social needs met.

One of those classmates quickly turned into a relationship.

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Catching Up – The Charges

Lots has happened in my life since that dark and horrible time in my life that I last really used this blog.  I’m going to try to update as best I can.

My now ex-wife and her sister formally filed criminal charges against me.  I discovered this only when what appeared to be an advertisement from an attorney came in the mail.  It said that I had a warrant out for my arrest!  Not believing everything I read, I looked it up through Indiana’s online court system.  It was true.

This news came to me on a weekend, lawyers typically don’t work on the weekend – but the one that sent me the flyer/ad did!  So I hired her.  I wanted to get that warrant taken care of as soon as possible.  I felt like I was running from the law, and it kept me up at night.  Unfortunately due to the charges, there was a 24 hour hold if I were to turn myself in.  That was the test I gave the lawyer.  She was ineffective in removing that hold, which I read lawyers can get done.  Due to this, she refunded the retainer I had paid her and I moved onto another attorney, purportedly the best in town.

The retainer and fees were almost triple what the first lawyer charged, but it was worth it.  Every penny.  He was able to get that hold removed, and I turned myself in.  That was an interesting experience, one I had never experienced before.  I sat in the “drunk tank” for 3 hours.  There was a gentleman who was apparently passed out/under the influence in there, and another gentleman who was speaking another language primarily.  He could speak some english, but his accent was very thick.  I couldn’t make out what language it was exactly.  Then came along an inmate from one of the state prisons, he said he was convicted of murder and there for a court hearing in the morning.  He and I had a good conversation.  It was odd/scary/weird at the same time.  A good friend posted my bail money, to which I paid back asap.

The charges, which I won’t explain in detail were 2 felonies.  I was looking at a maximum of 6 years in prison for the events of that night.  It destroyed everything I had worked for my entire life, my character.

My lawyer told me 1 piece of advice, that really was odd to me but makes sense when I look back upon it.  He told me to just live my life and not try to get into trouble.  Don’t try to investigate or solve anything, that was his job.

He filed for discovery documents and mailed me copies.  In it were pictures of my ex-wife and her sister, the police report, everything from that evening.  I was appalled at the gross mis-representation of the situation by the police officers.  The pictures were such a staged thing to me.

I didn’t have much communication with my lawyer except for our initial visit, and the court date.  But man did that guy work miracles, some of them wouldn’t come to light until a year down the road.

He was able to negotiate the charges down to the lowest level a criminal charge can be, an A misdemeanor.  He was also able to get those charges changed as he put it, “on the front end.”  This meant, I wasn’t taking a plea bargain.

I am one to always take responsibility for my actions, and while I do feel like I acted improper that evening, I will always state that I had never had an anxiety attack like that in my life.  I do not understand how this might have played into a trial, but it was something on my mind.

My court hearing was quick, and very confusing.  I spent more time watching a video about pleading guilty to a crime than I spent inside the courtroom.  I was convicted and sentenced to 1 year of probation, with the sentences running concurrently, meaning both sentences ran at the same time.

Due to this conviction, a report was sent to the state police and then onto the federal government.  My 2nd amendment rights had just been removed, and for a while I thought permanently.

I was then told to report to the probation department immediately after leaving the courtroom.  While there, they took an intake interview and made a follow-up appointment.  I then had to go a block down the road and take a drug test, as no drugs or alcohol was a part of my probation requirement.  I was unable to urinate and was threatened about being thrown in jail until I could.  This is when the reality of the matter set in for me.  After about three months, I was released from supervised probation and moved to unsupervised.  I didn’t have to see my probation officer (who is a pretty cool guy), I didn’t have to do anything but live my normal life.  I was one step closer to getting this monkey off my back.

When my probation term was finished, I received an amazing surprise.  One my probation officer and judge just couldn’t believe.  My lawyer somehow got wording in my guilty plea that once my sentence was finished, the charges would be dismissed.

They were.

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Long time, no see

It’s been a while since I’ve posted on my blog.  There’s been a myriad of reasons.  I was overwhelmed with my new position with CAITS (where I still am).  I started a new whirlwind relationship (which I’ve put off kinda at this point).

But I will return.  I need this outlet now, more than ever.

I’ve just started a bathroom remodel that I’ve been putting off for 12 years!

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First Day Complete

Today was my first day in my new position with CAITS an acronym for Clinical Affairs Information Technology Services, as a Computer Support Technician.

It’s a new role in a location at the university that I’ve primarily stayed away from, Jordan Hall.  In essence I am the IT guy for the Medical Sciences department of IU.  This is where people become doctors.

Today was a large dose of information overload for me.  I’m in a period of flux, as my accounts and permissions are being created.  After a period of up to 2 weeks I will be on my own.

Right now, the person I am replacing is showing me the ropes of the department.  Once he feels like I’m up to handling things on my own, he will move to his new position within the department, which is in Indianapolis.

Tomorrow I have my ETC course, then he will be showing me the other buildings to which we have labs and equipment in.

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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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