C3-H5-N3-O9

***Well, three days to go.

Things are moving along pretty well and all, and I am a bit surprised at that… I can see how they are turning, but hopefully we have another 72 hours of civility left. ***

I use firefox as my web browser. This is primarily because there is an inline spell-check feature, and I am possibly the world’s worst typist. Seriously, awful. Another brilliant thing about it is a little app called “Stumble Upon”. The way it works is that you fill in some preferences, and it grabs random websites every time you hit the button… way too addictive. Anyway, last night I am stumbling and I land on one of those “divorce recovery” websites – the specific page was an article about how to determine when you were ready to find someone new. Interesting reading really, I actually wish I had read it before I was married, because never mind post divorce; according to this thing I wasn’t ready the first time either. Which is actually true, I wasn’t even close to ready. But who is?

The thing I love about this blog is that it gives me a place to remember honesty, and the more I have thought about it, the more I have realized that Honesty is the lynch-pin of any relationship. Nothing groundbreaking there I know. Most will say communication is the most important thing, but contend that without honesty, communication is worthless. It is the hardest thing to keep alive between two people, and the kicker is that if you do manage to maintain it, if it isn’t applied correctly it can destroy things in and of itself. It’s a bit like the days where railroad workers were making nitroglycerine, one wrong move and you go BOOM, but without it, there is no point in being there because there is no progress. In the old days, they had a serious problem in the manufacturing process, you have to stir it very slowly for a relatively long time, people would fall asleep and knock it over (it is EXTREMELY volatile) hence the “BOOM” above. The solution to this is actually pretty ingenious, they would have the poor chap stirring the mixture sit on an inverted cone, so that his legs formed the other 2 “legs” of the chair, if they started dozing they felt themselves go off balance and generally corrected and woke up.

So what I want to know is; where do I get the cone chair?

Walk Away, Walk Away

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son, fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
'cause we'll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms

If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the No's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

When I first heard the song, I was struck by what a beautiful picture it paints of love, commitment and our human frailty. It so perfectly summed up how I felt at my wedding, the invisible assurance that this was the person you would grow old with; the person who would be your constant. For some it is odd that the essence of love is delivered in a song about death, confused by the concept that being there in the end validates the journey more than the beginner ever could.

I heard it tonight and I was struck again, but not in the same way. The beauty had been replaced by a sense of loss, and the realization that I had gotten it wrong. I haven’t found “the one”, and there was no one that I would be no one to follow anyone anywhere.

Not yet anyhow.

fracture

These days I am not good company, and that bothers me. It seems like all of the places I use to “compartmentalize” are full lately and I cannot put anything away without something else flooding into its place. Perhaps it can be attributed to a bit of indecision on the part of my sub-conscious; or, perhaps, not indecision at all. Perhaps it is just that I am not comfortable unless I am unhappy. Logic tells me to ignore it and that I don’t need to bother, but my heart knows what buttons to push before it locks the door. Either way I end up in the same place. Am I actually so flawed that the only reason I even pursue wholeness is so that I can see that it isn’t attainable?

**edited 11-18-08

Sunday

Catharsis ~ A Greek word meaning "purification", "cleansing" or "clarification." It is derived from the infinitive ancient Greek: καθαίρειν transliterated as "kathairein" - "to purify, purge," and adjective "pure or clean."

-Wikipedia

It’s been fourteen weeks since the day I made my first post; seems more like a lifetime ago though. I was not kidding when I said that I really had no idea what I had to offer. I am also a bit amazed that any of you take to time to read it… grateful, but amazed. When I sat in my living room on that Sunday morning it was on a lark - Where I sit this Sunday, with another omelet and coffee, it has become an outlet that I am not sure I could do without these days, it has let me to be honest with myself more than I have in the last 7-8 years, and although there is plenty of “sludge” to sift through, its starting to help me catch glimpses of who I want to be when I look in the mirror. Oddly enough the fact that I know you all read this blog forces me to be as honest as I can, for more than I would be in private; I feel that if you are willing to take the time, I owe it to you and to myself. Well, that’s enough nostalgia…..

The countdown to the court date is in full swing here, and the concept of amicable is fading fast. She think is finally starting to realize the position she has put herself in. I just want out; I want to go back to having a home that I don’t feel awkward in. I want the space to let this pain happen and feel…, well just feel. Last Thursday was an interesting day here as things are getting pretty heated and after a couple crap interactions with my STBEW’s (soon to be ex-wife) father and with her I started to think back on this relationship and how incredibly unhealthy it was/is. It is pretty easy to see it in someone else’s life, the signs are there. In your own life its not that simple. Once you make the commitment to being with someone you want to think you made the right choices so you start to think their view of you is right, and then you start to shut down. When that happens you just, well you start dying a little at a time, and you start to become the person they see you as. It almost like you trap yourself in there, you give up trying to make things better, choosing to simply exist rather than live. As I have said before, denial is both a powerful ally and an arch nemesis; it is never a friend. But back to Thursday … After dealing with all the external crap I was driving back from work and all of what I have fought to have a handle on for the last weeks came knocking,… I lost it. Sobbing to the point where I had to pull over literally wracked in physical pain. I let go of more in that 10 min in the rain than I knew I was carrying around, for the first time since this mess started I let myself I decided it was time to let the pain cover me and do its work. My God did that help.

“Something in me, dark and sticky
All the time its getting strong
No way of dealing with this feeling
Cant go on like this too long
This time you’ve gone too far
I told you
This time you’ve gone too far

I told you
Don’t talk back
Just drive the car
Shut your mouth
I know what you are
Don’t say nothing
Keep your hands on the wheel
Don’t turn around
This is for real
Digging in the dirt
Stay with me, I need support
I’m digging in the dirt
To find the places I got hurt
Open up the places I got hurt
The more I look, the more I find
As I close on in, I get so blind
I feel it in my head, I feel it in my toes
I feel it in my sex, that’s the place it goes
I’m digging in the dirt
Stay with me I need support
I’m digging in the dirt
To find the places I got hurt
To open up the places I got hurt
Digging in the dirt
To find the places we got hurt”

- Peter Gabriel

Briet on the Eyes

As of late, I have been referencing a fair amount of song lyrics. More often than not I am able to find someone else’s words that do a better job of saying what I am feeling than my own ever could… but that is the beauty of music, isn’t it? Well, tonight there is no clever reference material; not because there isn’t one out there, I just don’t frankly have the energy to look. I am relly starting to wonder just how much more of myself this marriage is going to cost me before it lets go… I am down to 14 days remaining, and it seems that there are more hands reaching for their pound of flesh now than ever. The odd thing is that the issues which would normally be stressors during this (like I have any freaking idea what this is supposed to be like….) are really not going so badly; visitation is sorted, support, holidays… A part of me even thinks it will stay smooth; that this won’t get any uglier. The reality is that reality stunted my optimism a while back, and I am pretty much waiting for the other foot to drop, as they say.

Apparently the people on the fringes of my divorce think it is important that they explain to me just how bad this is for them. This, of course, is because I have nothing else to occupy my mind with besides their problems.

Fuck, I’m tired.

ponder

“Into my hands have come many things
You should be disappointed
For I have wasted most of these
My innocence and youth, I poured them out like water
And to think to you that I am
Still worth saving from the fire
Too many compromises to get me through the day
Help me make the choices, sometimes I am afraid
When I'm deaf to everything but the cry of my own pain
Give me the grace to trust You, I cannot walk away”
- Kevin Prosch -

If there is one topic I try and steer clear of, it is ones faith mechanism. We all have one in one way or another, and in my experience it is singularly the most galvanizing topic that can be discussed… there is just too much baggage that comes with the word. As of late, I have been noticing that part of me waking up, working out the atrophy, reminding me what it was to be aware of, well, God.

I hesitated for a long time posting about this, as I hate the idea what I would somehow be associated with the Jerry Fallwells of this world. I get shivers in my spine when I think of “those” people, and what they do everyday… religion makes me want to vomit. Dogma is the grotesque mockery of the relationship that is spoken of in scripture; and that so many have made it a vehicle for hatred fills me with sorrow.

For the record:

I am not homophobic, and proposition 8 is a travesty.

I am not a member of the Republican Party.

I am not of the opinion that you can have a society based on liberty and take away a woman’s right to choose.

I am repulsed when people shove their belief system down others throats.

I knew what it is to look at the mess that is my life, and feel peace. Grace. To know that something far bigger than me gives a damn what happens to me; and I know that I want to have that back… and not have the bullshit that so many package with it. I know its there, waiting… its under the scars of the last few years, I just need to find it.

hes the chief and he needs hailing

Well, tonight is a post that isn’t centered around how fuct I am. We have a new president, and for once I am happy with the result of an election, not merely for the winner, but for the fact that the people actually went out and voted, and the margin was not slim. A campaign was run with minimal smear ads, the loser actually conceded. Well done America.

For the record, until about 4 days ago, I would have voted McCain. I am not a fan of democrats in general, as they typically seem to want to give away the boat, so to speak; but I am happy that we are trying something different. Who knows if it will turn out for the good or bad, but it is a change. Given McCains ties to PNAC members, I can’t imagine that his administration would have done much differently, and although I am radically pro-military (those men and women deserve more than they will ever receive from us), I do not want us to be there any longer than necessary. My hope is that we can ease off of the position of “world police”…

Granted this may all suck, but what the heck, for better or for worse, it is going to be different, and that is a good thing!

Merry Friggin' Christmas

OK… so I am looking for a place to live.

Not just sleep, but actually start a life over.

Well, sort of.

Not really starting anything new at this point, just adding a shot of reality to what has been here a long time; hidden for the most part, but here nonetheless. Feels like being exposed for the first time, having a chance to not pretend what I am the second I walk in the door. I am waiting for that, wound tight as a spring, hesitating to fell the relief too early. It seems too dangerous to let myself think its actually happening before I am out…. Too many times I have watched something I have planned and hoped for dissolve, finding that the light was indeed a train. I don’t think I would survive that this time around. No, I think I’ll hold off the relief until it arrives knocking, or better yet, till it breaks down the dammed door. That’s pretty much the attitude I am taking towards most things as of late actually; I am really trying not to look forward to very much. I know that may sound a bit defeatist, but the reality is, things tend to not work out the way I would hope as of late (not merely the end of my marriage….), and I would rather not have the letdown. Well, there are a few things I am counting on; things I can’t dismiss… but even they are far from certain. Not that very many things in life are certain, are they?

Alright, this diatribe is just depressing. Everyone take a break and look at some fuzzy bunnies or something. Maybe do a Google image search for Flemish Giant rabbits and realize that you want one.

Christmas came into my head a few minutes ago, not the commercialized horseshit of a holiday that gets slammed down our throats every fall, but the day, Christmas morning.There are few things in life that are better than watching your children streaming down the stairs to find what is under the tree, seeing them tear into the stockings with so much zeal it makes your heart skip. See the youngest of them looking with fascination at the cookie crumbs and empty glass of milk she left for Santa, and know that for this year at least, the magic lives on. I was never really much into Christmas before I had children. My immediate family and I are not super close, and Christmas wasn’t really surrounded by much hoopla as a kid. It was really just a holiday with perks. After I got married, I experienced CHRISTMAS, holy crow. I am not sure if you have seen “National Lampoons Christmas Vacation”, but that is the closest thing I have seen to Christmas at my in-laws. Pretty amazing, 45 people, tons of food, friends… it’s really a lot of fun. Add that to my kids running around all filled with wonder and it is pretty much as close to Norman Rockwell as I intend to get.

Well, that’s something I don’t need to “worry” about anymore. Dec 25^th, 2008 is shaping up to be a quiet morning in a small apartment that I haven’t finished unpacking yet. Hey Randy, it’s my very own “Christmas at Denny’s”. Shit. I honestly don’t have the energy to try and convince myself that this is going to be fine right now. Maybe tomorrow my denial will have charged up enough to get me through, but for tonight, there is no cheer here.

Dyl

When I see you I wonder if you even know
That your eyes say more than the words you don’t?
I sit and stare into space trying to find what captivates you?
There is a peace that surrounds you - a solace I long for

"I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test
...
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through
...
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Oh, look out you rock 'n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Pretty soon you're gonna get
a little older
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can't trace time"

“Changes” – David Bowie, 1971

An interesting side effect of this little trip I am on is watching how I am reacting. Seeing how my sub-conscience interprets what is going on and the types of things I find myself doing as a result is indeed entertaining. As of late, I am on a mission to get back to a time when I was honest with myself, when I felt as close to whole as I ever have. The unsettling part is that I end up somewhere around 1995/96. Thirteen years and too many miles later I am scraping around looking for a moment; trying to determine when I started believing the lies I tell myself. Hanging on to the concept that if I can find out what it is, I can avoid repeating it. So here I am, in my thirties, listening to music I listened to then, re-watching movies, reconnecting with old friends, and trying to remember who/what I was; both good and bad.

Looking back on the last ten years or so, it has become readily apparent that for too long I tried to ignore the “dark” in me. Armed with the notion that no one could accept what I really was, those bits that I bore shame about were discarded. Of course I was very altruistic about it, convincing myself that I was “dealing with it” on my own, that I didn’t need anyone’s help, that I could somehow force a change in myself if I pushed hard and deep enough. It all seems like such a waste of energy from where I sit now. The striving, the sacrifice, trying to reshape myself into what someone else thought I should be. I can’t even blame them for trying – insecure people find it easier to change others than themselves; generally by brute force. The fact that I went along with it for so long, that’s the rub. I’d love to say it was some sort of psychological issue, like Stockholm syndrome or something… but the reality is that I wanted so badly for this to work that I turned a blind eye initially, and later blinded myself completely. I needed for this relationship to be what I thought it was, to be unconditionally loved - accepted. I needed it far too much. So much that even when it became obvious that it wasn’t ever going to be that, I could not accept it. I couldn’t face that I had been so wrong then, and its not any easier as I type this. The major difference is that back then I would have had the luxury of calling it a mistake, but now I see three kids that have ravaged my heart… and I don’t know what to call it. My marriage couldn’t have been a mistake, not if they are the result. But what I am going through now certainly spells out that it wasn’t a good choice either. Like most decisions in life, we have little option but to pick a side and ride it out; or as they say: “Never make a mistake you can’t fix”. Well, at least don’t make one you don’t have time to fix.