I want to thank those that leave comments or send me letters through my hotmail account.
Many of you stay anonymous, and while I can understand the reasoning behind it, I wish I could put a name to you all personally.
Like the last person who left a comment about Christian Love Stories....about a woman who has medical issues, and her husband, and the love they share through Christ. Thank you...I added the link to the right as well. It touches me, and it saddens me at the same time. While I do not envy her situation and am very sorry for her physical pain and hardships, I do envy the love she shares with her mate. Something I have been praying about for years and have yet to achieve.
Other than my sweet dog, and the occasional communion with Christ through prayer, it can be very hard at times to feel so alone in this world. I wish it were easier. I also wish I could say that all your comments gave me a boost of confidence to wake up everyday and thank Jesus for a beautiful day and keep me going to be a representative of Him.
But I'd also be lying to myself and to you.
I recently told by someone who doesn't really know me all that well, that he and his wife had been praying for me. He says he sees me at church, alone, and told me lovingly yet bluntly "You look like you have had all your confidence drained from you, and we pray that it is restored." Well, believe me when I say I didn't know how to respond. A meek 'Thank you" you came from my lips to know that someone is praying for me, but the flip side is 'Am I really that obvious? Do I really look like I can throw in the towel?'
The sad truth is, the answer is 'yes'. I have often thought about running away from my current life. My marriage. My career. My family. Does that make me a coward? I suppose to some people it does. I have often thought/wished I had never been born. To say life is a gift to cherish...yes, at times it is. At other times, I cannot help but argue in my own head that if I had never been born to begin with, I wouldn't really know the difference to treasure life or not. So non-existence would have protected me from feeling so alone.
I have no idea on where I am going with this right now other than a brain dump right now, so instead of rambling in a circle as I can often tend to do, I will stop.
November 29, 2007
This past week (Part I)
It seems in the last few years, the closer we get to the holiday season, the more I feel depressed. I say depressed in the way that I am not experiencing the love and joy our culture has associated with the coming of the season.
Where some look forward to singing Christmas carols, drinking warm egg-nog on a cold night, looking at the pretty lights and spending time with family and all the delicious smells wafting from the oven, I can't help feel like I get short-changed.
Last week, my church had an annual holiday breakfast. I was really looking forward to going, and even volunteered to come in early and help set-up. I extended an invitation to my wife more than once over the course of a few weeks leading up to the event, and she led me to believe that she would be attending. Why wouldn't she? She was quite able to spend time with the neighbors the last few days having wine and socializing for hours on end. Could a two hour breakfast a mile from our house be asking too much?
Sadly, the answer is a resounding 'Yes'.
I had gotten up early that morning and rushed down there to help set up tables and chairs, and quietly sat in anticipation for my wife to show up at 9am as I had reminded her a few times before.
9am....9:15.....9:30...9:45...
One of the congregation came up to me, "Hey, where's your wife? I guess the bed was all too warm this morning." He meant it as a joke, in good spirit....but he was all too dead spot on and it took as much energy as I could muster to put on a fake smile and not break down. It's a good thing I had my sunglasses with me, as I could feel my eyes begin to well up with tears and my pride did not want to let on how crushed I was.
At 10:00 am I had given up. I could no longer enjoy myself, and who was I kidding? I could not sit any longer and 'pretend' I was having a good time.
I left silently, and walked home.
Once home I walked inside to see my wife at her computer, sitting in her robe, drinking coffee.
I was at a loss for words. If I open my mouth, my emotions would come pouring out. I'd say something hurtful and mean. For what? To 'get even'? No, I just thought to myself....this is par for the course, I am so foolish for getting my expectations up. I should have known better. My face and my body language must have given me away.
She looked up at me from her PC, "What's wrong?"
Astonishing. In those quick few seconds, so many responses had filled my head, but none of them would be ending good. I decided to fight down my primal urges inside, my rage/anger/hurt/frustration/sadness/loneliness.
"Nothing.", I said.
I slipped back into the garage and tried to make myself look busy for a bit. Better to give myself something to do, keep my mind and body occupied....calm down.
As I began to pull out the Christmas lights from the garage shelves, I felt as if once again...Christmas is here, and I'll be going through the motions.
To be continued.....
Where some look forward to singing Christmas carols, drinking warm egg-nog on a cold night, looking at the pretty lights and spending time with family and all the delicious smells wafting from the oven, I can't help feel like I get short-changed.
Last week, my church had an annual holiday breakfast. I was really looking forward to going, and even volunteered to come in early and help set-up. I extended an invitation to my wife more than once over the course of a few weeks leading up to the event, and she led me to believe that she would be attending. Why wouldn't she? She was quite able to spend time with the neighbors the last few days having wine and socializing for hours on end. Could a two hour breakfast a mile from our house be asking too much?
Sadly, the answer is a resounding 'Yes'.
I had gotten up early that morning and rushed down there to help set up tables and chairs, and quietly sat in anticipation for my wife to show up at 9am as I had reminded her a few times before.
9am....9:15.....9:30...9:45...
One of the congregation came up to me, "Hey, where's your wife? I guess the bed was all too warm this morning." He meant it as a joke, in good spirit....but he was all too dead spot on and it took as much energy as I could muster to put on a fake smile and not break down. It's a good thing I had my sunglasses with me, as I could feel my eyes begin to well up with tears and my pride did not want to let on how crushed I was.
At 10:00 am I had given up. I could no longer enjoy myself, and who was I kidding? I could not sit any longer and 'pretend' I was having a good time.
I left silently, and walked home.
Once home I walked inside to see my wife at her computer, sitting in her robe, drinking coffee.
I was at a loss for words. If I open my mouth, my emotions would come pouring out. I'd say something hurtful and mean. For what? To 'get even'? No, I just thought to myself....this is par for the course, I am so foolish for getting my expectations up. I should have known better. My face and my body language must have given me away.
She looked up at me from her PC, "What's wrong?"
Astonishing. In those quick few seconds, so many responses had filled my head, but none of them would be ending good. I decided to fight down my primal urges inside, my rage/anger/hurt/frustration/sadness/loneliness.
"Nothing.", I said.
I slipped back into the garage and tried to make myself look busy for a bit. Better to give myself something to do, keep my mind and body occupied....calm down.
As I began to pull out the Christmas lights from the garage shelves, I felt as if once again...Christmas is here, and I'll be going through the motions.
To be continued.....
November 19, 2007
Recent Poll
I came across an interesting poll on CNN.com today:
Do you approach family holiday gatherings with (42826 votes so far) :
Dread 41% 17619 votes
Joyful anticipation 59% 25207 votes
That's actually quite sad. And I admit, I answered 'dread' myself.
The ideals of intimate family gatherings, relaxation, getting to know ones neighbors, and a reason to celebrate and exchange gifts has lost much of its meaning to many people, including myself.
When I was younger, there was always a magical feeling in the air when Thanksgiving and Christmas were upon us. As a child, I recall looking forward to grandparents visits, eating rich food, holiday TV specials, the smell of a pine tree, twinkling lights, eggnog, fresh cookies, and of course toys.
To me it meant time off from school, Twilight Zone marathons, chocolate candies, and fireplaces.
Sadly today I recognize now more than ever spirituality is at an all time lull. I crave getting to know Christ more and more, to recognize that this day symbolizes 'hope' for a doomed world, to be 'thankful' of what we do have and to cast our worries and troubles aside, at least for the duration of a good meal.
But now it seems I am spending time with people and relatives and neighbors who do not share by spiritual beliefs. It's more about the iPod, or the PlayStation than it is about family. And I fall right into this trap as well.
I was at the mall yesterday alone to begin my Christmas shopping, and I realize I am buying gifts for people, expensive ones at that, because somewhere over the years I feel obligated to just by the sheer nature it is Christmas, and that's what you do. Some of these people haven't seen the inside of a church in years, let alone opened a bible, or prayed. But that's not really for me to judge and hold against them. Our whole society has become perverse in thine manner.
As an example, I purchased my aunt a gift certificate for $50 at a clothing store. To me, a few thoughts crossed my mind during the whole ordeal: 1) Certificates are so impersonal, but I truly am drawing a blank on what to get people anymore. 2) Was $50 enough for my aunt? To some it may be, but to me, I think I'll end up spending more on her to assuade my own guilt for not looking cheap if you can believe that. 3) She's agnostic to boot.
I had that same thought with many people this year, even my wife. She gave me a list of what she desires....leaving no room for me to get her something of my own thinking lest she be disappointed....which of course takes out all the meaning and pleasure out of gift giving to me.
On the reverse side of the coin, she asked me what I would like for Christmas, and I honestly do not know. I really haven't given it too much thought, in which she replied "Great, looks like it is going to be another gift certificate year." This saddened me a bit, because I thought after 4 year of marriage and 2 years of dating, she'd be more creative when it comes to me.
I think of parties we are obligated to attend in which I don't want to participate for one reason or another, whether it be traffic, or listening to the same tired stories I always hear, or fussing about meals on if they are being served on time or not, and if the kids are behaving, and all the other stress.
Speaking of stress, just getting to the malls and navigating on my free days seems to tire me out already just thinking of it, then to come home, hide presents, wrap presents, identify presents, etc. It just doesn't sound very relaxing at all anymore.
And perhaps I am being overly cynical these days. I watch the news and just seem to get so depressed on all the horrible events: fires, earthquakes, cyclones, disease, war, shootings. How am I to be thankful? How can I celebrate with all this minutiae happening all over?
I lay in bed last night and decided to share some of my thought with my wife in the dark. I told her I fear for peoples salvation, more so today than ever before. I told her my emotions as of late have been all over the map sans the drugs. I felt as if I was opening up to her looking, grasping for some empathy and support. Instead she told me maybe I need to see a therapist again.
Not what I wanted to hear.
It was at this moment, she said she couldn't help me. That I see the world too black & white. That I forgot to have fun and that I am way to serious.
I sat and tried to digest this for a minute or so. Is it possible I am slipping back down the hole again? Do I need to start taking medication again before I start sliding down fast? While I was thinking these thoughts, my wife rolled over away from me and fell asleep.
Here I am again, feeling alone in the world, intensified by the false veil of 'holiday cheer'.
Do you approach family holiday gatherings with (42826 votes so far) :
Dread 41% 17619 votes
Joyful anticipation 59% 25207 votes
That's actually quite sad. And I admit, I answered 'dread' myself.
The ideals of intimate family gatherings, relaxation, getting to know ones neighbors, and a reason to celebrate and exchange gifts has lost much of its meaning to many people, including myself.
When I was younger, there was always a magical feeling in the air when Thanksgiving and Christmas were upon us. As a child, I recall looking forward to grandparents visits, eating rich food, holiday TV specials, the smell of a pine tree, twinkling lights, eggnog, fresh cookies, and of course toys.
To me it meant time off from school, Twilight Zone marathons, chocolate candies, and fireplaces.
Sadly today I recognize now more than ever spirituality is at an all time lull. I crave getting to know Christ more and more, to recognize that this day symbolizes 'hope' for a doomed world, to be 'thankful' of what we do have and to cast our worries and troubles aside, at least for the duration of a good meal.
But now it seems I am spending time with people and relatives and neighbors who do not share by spiritual beliefs. It's more about the iPod, or the PlayStation than it is about family. And I fall right into this trap as well.
I was at the mall yesterday alone to begin my Christmas shopping, and I realize I am buying gifts for people, expensive ones at that, because somewhere over the years I feel obligated to just by the sheer nature it is Christmas, and that's what you do. Some of these people haven't seen the inside of a church in years, let alone opened a bible, or prayed. But that's not really for me to judge and hold against them. Our whole society has become perverse in thine manner.
As an example, I purchased my aunt a gift certificate for $50 at a clothing store. To me, a few thoughts crossed my mind during the whole ordeal: 1) Certificates are so impersonal, but I truly am drawing a blank on what to get people anymore. 2) Was $50 enough for my aunt? To some it may be, but to me, I think I'll end up spending more on her to assuade my own guilt for not looking cheap if you can believe that. 3) She's agnostic to boot.
I had that same thought with many people this year, even my wife. She gave me a list of what she desires....leaving no room for me to get her something of my own thinking lest she be disappointed....which of course takes out all the meaning and pleasure out of gift giving to me.
On the reverse side of the coin, she asked me what I would like for Christmas, and I honestly do not know. I really haven't given it too much thought, in which she replied "Great, looks like it is going to be another gift certificate year." This saddened me a bit, because I thought after 4 year of marriage and 2 years of dating, she'd be more creative when it comes to me.
I think of parties we are obligated to attend in which I don't want to participate for one reason or another, whether it be traffic, or listening to the same tired stories I always hear, or fussing about meals on if they are being served on time or not, and if the kids are behaving, and all the other stress.
Speaking of stress, just getting to the malls and navigating on my free days seems to tire me out already just thinking of it, then to come home, hide presents, wrap presents, identify presents, etc. It just doesn't sound very relaxing at all anymore.
And perhaps I am being overly cynical these days. I watch the news and just seem to get so depressed on all the horrible events: fires, earthquakes, cyclones, disease, war, shootings. How am I to be thankful? How can I celebrate with all this minutiae happening all over?
I lay in bed last night and decided to share some of my thought with my wife in the dark. I told her I fear for peoples salvation, more so today than ever before. I told her my emotions as of late have been all over the map sans the drugs. I felt as if I was opening up to her looking, grasping for some empathy and support. Instead she told me maybe I need to see a therapist again.
Not what I wanted to hear.
It was at this moment, she said she couldn't help me. That I see the world too black & white. That I forgot to have fun and that I am way to serious.
I sat and tried to digest this for a minute or so. Is it possible I am slipping back down the hole again? Do I need to start taking medication again before I start sliding down fast? While I was thinking these thoughts, my wife rolled over away from me and fell asleep.
Here I am again, feeling alone in the world, intensified by the false veil of 'holiday cheer'.
November 16, 2007
A bit angry and frustrated today
Sometimes I just feel so exasperated.
Marriage is much harder than it first appears on paper or in one's head, especially when either spouse occassionaly tends to put their feelings and free spirit first with disregard to how the other may feel or react.
What is really burdensome to me is that it happens so randomly, I never know what to expect, other than the fact it will indeed happen again if history is any teacher.
So I write this entry today with a few caveats in place: 1) I'm still a little worked up and probably have some residual resentment, anger, and hurt feelings that may come out in this. 2) I had very little sleep last night partly in regards to this. 3) I feel the need to vent, but I don't have anyone to turn to early in the morning. 4) My prayers in regards to the state of my marriage seemingly don't get answered right now and I'm a little lost on what to do/say/act next. 5) Things lately have seemed to good to be true, so I guess I was just fooling myself, ignorant to the fact that my wife is capable of a stupid stunt...again.
Apparently one of her co-workers was leaving the company and so she left a message that she'd be going out for a "couple of beers, and I'll be home soon." That message was left on our answering machine roughly at 5:45pm. Okay, I'm actually fine with that. She let me know where she was going and why, and who am I to deny her the right to say goodbye to someone she worked with and a friend over the years.
But I guess I should have realized that the other people also taking part are the same immature, drunks and chain smokers that always seem to spell trouble. Last night was no different.
So at 8pm, my wife is still not home, and calls again to leave a message (maybe I was in the shower or something) stating "If you want, I'll bring you home dinner. I'll be leaving in the next 5-10 minutes."
I didn't call her back for two reasons: 1) It's already 8pm and I assumed I was on my own for dinner, so I ate a sandwhich on my own. 2) She said she's be leaving in no more than 10 minutes, and the restaurant she was at is only 15 minutes away, so I should expect her no later than 8:30pm.
I went to bed at 10:45pm. Wife was still not home. I really didn't want to call her and 'check up on her.'
Finally at 11:45 pm she walks in the house. She makes a lot of noise, comes into the bedroom, chooses not to say one word to me, and climbs into bed.
I'm pretty worked up now and I can't sleep. The thoughts that go through my head are random, but generally are of this nature: "You are rude and inconsiderate. Grow up. How does 10 minutes equate to 3.5 hours? Why aren't you saying anything? You think this is acceptable? Please, do not talk to me. Lord, why? Why did I choose this person to marry who only cares about her own fun?"
It doesn't stop there.
At 12:30 am the phone rings. It is one of her really drunk girlfriends calling. She is so loud, I know instantly who it is, and I cannot help but think to myself "Figures, XXXXX is involved. Of course my wife stayed out late, and didn't call, she's hanging out with the very immature people yet again."
I got up and slept on the couch all night. Starting an argument at 12:30am was not on my list of things to do right then and there. My wife did not say one word to me. I did not say one word to her. I got up early, and tired, and left for work.
I'm praying about this, but I am so angry right now. These are the moments I wish I was not married and I kick myself in the rear. It's seems senseless to argue to her about this, because her M.O. is to be hyper-defensive, that I am over-reacting, that she won't do it again.....but the fact of the matter is she will.
Lord, what will you have me do? Why do I feel like I am the only one in this marriage? That I am the only person that think about 'us', when I believe my wife only thinks of 'herself'?
Lord, please give me the wisdom to act accordingly and lovingly, but please understand why I am angry and help quell those feelings.
Marriage is much harder than it first appears on paper or in one's head, especially when either spouse occassionaly tends to put their feelings and free spirit first with disregard to how the other may feel or react.
What is really burdensome to me is that it happens so randomly, I never know what to expect, other than the fact it will indeed happen again if history is any teacher.
So I write this entry today with a few caveats in place: 1) I'm still a little worked up and probably have some residual resentment, anger, and hurt feelings that may come out in this. 2) I had very little sleep last night partly in regards to this. 3) I feel the need to vent, but I don't have anyone to turn to early in the morning. 4) My prayers in regards to the state of my marriage seemingly don't get answered right now and I'm a little lost on what to do/say/act next. 5) Things lately have seemed to good to be true, so I guess I was just fooling myself, ignorant to the fact that my wife is capable of a stupid stunt...again.
Apparently one of her co-workers was leaving the company and so she left a message that she'd be going out for a "couple of beers, and I'll be home soon." That message was left on our answering machine roughly at 5:45pm. Okay, I'm actually fine with that. She let me know where she was going and why, and who am I to deny her the right to say goodbye to someone she worked with and a friend over the years.
But I guess I should have realized that the other people also taking part are the same immature, drunks and chain smokers that always seem to spell trouble. Last night was no different.
So at 8pm, my wife is still not home, and calls again to leave a message (maybe I was in the shower or something) stating "If you want, I'll bring you home dinner. I'll be leaving in the next 5-10 minutes."
I didn't call her back for two reasons: 1) It's already 8pm and I assumed I was on my own for dinner, so I ate a sandwhich on my own. 2) She said she's be leaving in no more than 10 minutes, and the restaurant she was at is only 15 minutes away, so I should expect her no later than 8:30pm.
I went to bed at 10:45pm. Wife was still not home. I really didn't want to call her and 'check up on her.'
Finally at 11:45 pm she walks in the house. She makes a lot of noise, comes into the bedroom, chooses not to say one word to me, and climbs into bed.
I'm pretty worked up now and I can't sleep. The thoughts that go through my head are random, but generally are of this nature: "You are rude and inconsiderate. Grow up. How does 10 minutes equate to 3.5 hours? Why aren't you saying anything? You think this is acceptable? Please, do not talk to me. Lord, why? Why did I choose this person to marry who only cares about her own fun?"
It doesn't stop there.
At 12:30 am the phone rings. It is one of her really drunk girlfriends calling. She is so loud, I know instantly who it is, and I cannot help but think to myself "Figures, XXXXX is involved. Of course my wife stayed out late, and didn't call, she's hanging out with the very immature people yet again."
I got up and slept on the couch all night. Starting an argument at 12:30am was not on my list of things to do right then and there. My wife did not say one word to me. I did not say one word to her. I got up early, and tired, and left for work.
I'm praying about this, but I am so angry right now. These are the moments I wish I was not married and I kick myself in the rear. It's seems senseless to argue to her about this, because her M.O. is to be hyper-defensive, that I am over-reacting, that she won't do it again.....but the fact of the matter is she will.
Lord, what will you have me do? Why do I feel like I am the only one in this marriage? That I am the only person that think about 'us', when I believe my wife only thinks of 'herself'?
Lord, please give me the wisdom to act accordingly and lovingly, but please understand why I am angry and help quell those feelings.
November 12, 2007
Memories of Bottlecaps
Sometimes the most simplest of all things and their associated memories can bring a smile to my face and a certain 'giddiness' to myself.
Today, in a higher than normal hectic day, one of co-workers had out a bowl of left over Halloween candy. Inside, I spied a package of Wonka Bottlecaps. The packaging has changed quite a bit over the last 25 years from the very first ones I can remember opening, but the taste is unforgettable.
As is the memories that filled my mind of being a child and not be cogniscent of the cruel and wicked and often dissapointing world that surrounds me.
It was a little surreal. I popped the first cap in my mouth...Rootbeer.....and before I knew it, it was a summer afternoon in Michigan and I was with my parents and my favorite uncle sitting outside an old A&W drive-in stand. My uncle used to take me here for a rootbeer float when he was alive and I was young. We were on vacation, and we had been vsiting relatives that still live in the smae hometown my parents were from.
I has a special bond with my uncle. He was like a grandfather to me. He always made time for me, and I have so many special memories of him. I was devestated when he passed almost two years ago. Probably more so than I would be when my own grandfather passes.
Anyway, I remember him introducing me to Bottlecaps, and to this day, it is one of my favorite novelty candies.
Orange....like a 50/50 bar, and here I sit again in the backyard of yet another relatives yard. There's a picnic bench outside that I sit on and watch my older family tell stories of their youth in which I cannot relate, but it's okay. I have my Bottlecaps and I listen to their laughter and I watch the clouds drift by and feel the warmth of the sun on my arms and legs.
Grape. My cousins and I will be lighting fireworks soon. We swam all day out at the cottage and ate hotdogs and canned beans, and fished for Sunfish.
Cola...another flavor just as delicate. Why are all my memories now of when I was eight or nine years old? The images and feelings are intense and are surprising that they have surfaced. But with every cap I throw in my mouth, the taste takes me back. Back before I knew what mortage was, taxes, before a career, before alcohol and girlfriends and death and war. Before I knew about depression and God and corrupt world ideologies and pain and hurt. Before I allowed anger and despair to take foot in my mind and heart.
5 Bottlecaps. That's all there was in this pack. 5. It took me all of a few minutes to eat them all, but the memories that brought back with them is something I treasure and long for again.
November 06, 2007
Depression - Meds, the first 2 weeks (part 9)
The morning I started my medication was very personal to me. I woke early, as I always do, while looking forward to go to work and getting out of the house, not looking forward to certain people I had to work with.
The thought of putting on a 'happy' face all the while concealing my contempt and utter lack of respect for some people was harder than it seems. While I thought I was doing a good job at it, apparently I wasn't fooling too many people. As much as I thought I had my anger and emotions under control, I would learn later people had noticed a difference in me.
My patience, something I had very little of to begin with, had even smaller margins now. I never really noticed how much I was gritting my teeth or rolling my eyes when people were talking to me.
I looked in the mirror of our vanity and saw the tired eyes looking back at me. I also noticed that I had a lot more gray hair than I once remembered. Was I actually aging myself, taking years off my life from the foul and putrid moods I was now in? Would I be prematurely gray from genetics, or did the the world do this to me? Did I do this to me?
I opened the first bottle. Lexapro. The Clonapen would wait until later, but I would make sure I stuck one in my pocket, just in case....you know...for an emergency. I wanted to do this quietly. I did not want my wife to see this...partly pride...partly because I didn't want to hear any comments or have her reminded that her husband sunk this far.
The doctors told me I wouldn't feel anything right away. They said it would take at least two weeks for my body to adjust and accept the drugs in my body and have my brain chemicals altered. Funny, you never really have these same thought when you drink a few beers. Alcohol changes the brain chemistry, but usually within minutes of consumption. Here, now that I want my chemistry to change, now I have to wait two weeks. People wonder why people turn to alcohol. It's simple.....People want to escape their reality and pain as quickly as possible, not wait two weeks or longer. I know...alcohol was my 'friend'....my own medication that I could prescribe as much as I wanted and when.
There were times even the slightest feeling of anxiety, perhaps just a simple heart flutter, would send me to the cupboards for a tumbler to add a few ice cubes and watch the amber liquid of Jack Daniels splash across the glass.
I swallowed the pill and continued to get ready for work. I dressed and said goodbye to my wife who was still laying in bed. On my wait out our bedroom door she told me "Did you take your pills?"
My God...I wish I could have seen my face at that moment. There it was....that question just dangling out there in space....waiting for an answer. I wanted to reply "Yes, you're crazy husband who cannot seem to get his act together...the guy who is educated and knows better....the guy who was big and strong and in control and fixed and paid for everything who is now an utter mess, who cannot concentrate, who hates people, who hates life, who doesn't know up from down right now and wants to run away and ask God for a 'do-over', who feels like he wants to punch everyone in sight, who likes the taste of whisky.....took his good for nothing pill that isn't even going to do anything for two weeks if he's lucky."
Instead I muttered a soft spoken "yes" just to get it over with and walked out without looking back.
So here I start my new regime... a pill every morning...a physical reminder that stares me in the face to let me know I failed somewhere along the line.
To be continued.....
The thought of putting on a 'happy' face all the while concealing my contempt and utter lack of respect for some people was harder than it seems. While I thought I was doing a good job at it, apparently I wasn't fooling too many people. As much as I thought I had my anger and emotions under control, I would learn later people had noticed a difference in me.
My patience, something I had very little of to begin with, had even smaller margins now. I never really noticed how much I was gritting my teeth or rolling my eyes when people were talking to me.
I looked in the mirror of our vanity and saw the tired eyes looking back at me. I also noticed that I had a lot more gray hair than I once remembered. Was I actually aging myself, taking years off my life from the foul and putrid moods I was now in? Would I be prematurely gray from genetics, or did the the world do this to me? Did I do this to me?
I opened the first bottle. Lexapro. The Clonapen would wait until later, but I would make sure I stuck one in my pocket, just in case....you know...for an emergency. I wanted to do this quietly. I did not want my wife to see this...partly pride...partly because I didn't want to hear any comments or have her reminded that her husband sunk this far.
The doctors told me I wouldn't feel anything right away. They said it would take at least two weeks for my body to adjust and accept the drugs in my body and have my brain chemicals altered. Funny, you never really have these same thought when you drink a few beers. Alcohol changes the brain chemistry, but usually within minutes of consumption. Here, now that I want my chemistry to change, now I have to wait two weeks. People wonder why people turn to alcohol. It's simple.....People want to escape their reality and pain as quickly as possible, not wait two weeks or longer. I know...alcohol was my 'friend'....my own medication that I could prescribe as much as I wanted and when.
There were times even the slightest feeling of anxiety, perhaps just a simple heart flutter, would send me to the cupboards for a tumbler to add a few ice cubes and watch the amber liquid of Jack Daniels splash across the glass.
I swallowed the pill and continued to get ready for work. I dressed and said goodbye to my wife who was still laying in bed. On my wait out our bedroom door she told me "Did you take your pills?"
My God...I wish I could have seen my face at that moment. There it was....that question just dangling out there in space....waiting for an answer. I wanted to reply "Yes, you're crazy husband who cannot seem to get his act together...the guy who is educated and knows better....the guy who was big and strong and in control and fixed and paid for everything who is now an utter mess, who cannot concentrate, who hates people, who hates life, who doesn't know up from down right now and wants to run away and ask God for a 'do-over', who feels like he wants to punch everyone in sight, who likes the taste of whisky.....took his good for nothing pill that isn't even going to do anything for two weeks if he's lucky."
Instead I muttered a soft spoken "yes" just to get it over with and walked out without looking back.
So here I start my new regime... a pill every morning...a physical reminder that stares me in the face to let me know I failed somewhere along the line.
To be continued.....
November 02, 2007
To Die in Jerusalem
From the HBO website:
To Die In Jerusalem:
Two daughters lost in conflict: one a suicide bomber, the other her victim. Two mothers searching for answers. Two nations divided by the land they share. TO DIE IN JERUSALEM looks at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the eyes of two mothers who lost their daughters in one deadly act of violence. The documentary recounts the heart- wrenching story of two teenage girls - 17-year-old Israeli student Rachel Levy, and her killer, 18-year-old Palestinian suicide bomber Ayat al-Akhras - who died together in a Jerusalem market in 2002.
Additional detailed synopsis here.
I actually stumbled upon this last night while I was flipping channels. Earlier in the day I had written about Halloween, and when I got home, my thoughts still seemed and I feared my entry didn't make much sense. I planned on re-commenting on it today, but then I got sucked into this documentary.
A world a way for me, but saddened me so much. I will probably never make it to the middle east in my life time, especially anywhere near the West Bank or Palestine/Israel, and to be honest, while I know there is a conflict raging their daily, like most Americans I probably don't pay all that much attention. Sorta like, 'Outta sight, outta mind'.
The story itself is tragic enough. We could go on and on and on about the ramifications, politics, etc. One thing that really caught my eye was the living conditions on both sides. The neighborhoods were so crowded, Arabic graffiti adorned the walls similar to what one would see in inner cities in America. But instead of gang signs and rude remarks, the scrawling was of Allah, or jihad, or other political statements. To me it reminded me of downtown Compton, CA...a place you don't want to be out at night, where all the windows have bars on them, and gunshots and sirens are a regular sound.
So it is just as common in sections of Israel and Palestine. Where in America, these sounds are associated with drug deals, prostitution, gang warfare, in the middle east it is about religious differences and occupation. Wow.
I was amazed at the attitudes of both families. Upon the anniversary of their daughters death, one mother cried and is still looking for answers, the other, while sad, celebrated heroism and nobility. You can guess which mother was which.
And to think this happens every day? Week? Month? Year? Generation?
As a Christian I was fascinated by both ideologies presented to me, and what there idea of peace and God's will is, and how different that is from mine. I read the bible, one reads the Torah, the other the Koran. Very religious books, 3 radically different interpretations.
I was very saddened by the parents outlook and attitude of the martyr, Ayat. While in their hearts they miss their child, they also believe she is a hero for her sacrifice and the justifications they offer are something we cannot comprehend, but seems absolutely normal to them.
The final thought I had was something that Christ said to us all: "I am the way the truth and the life; NO MAN cometh unto the Father BUT BY ME." -- Jesus Christ (John 14:6) And so I wonder, as a Christian, did both these children die for nothing? If they did not accept Christ, where do they reside now? I have an easier time accepting where Ayat may be, but I am not so sure about Rachel. Rachel was old enough to know about Christ, but did she die in denial of Christ as the savior, no matter how innocent she was? I do not know, for only Christ knows the condition of the heart and who spends eternity where, but as I sit on my couch and watch these past events with a slack jaw, I cannot help but think years of heartache for both families ended in two lost souls....literally.
To Die In Jerusalem:
Two daughters lost in conflict: one a suicide bomber, the other her victim. Two mothers searching for answers. Two nations divided by the land they share. TO DIE IN JERUSALEM looks at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the eyes of two mothers who lost their daughters in one deadly act of violence. The documentary recounts the heart- wrenching story of two teenage girls - 17-year-old Israeli student Rachel Levy, and her killer, 18-year-old Palestinian suicide bomber Ayat al-Akhras - who died together in a Jerusalem market in 2002.
Additional detailed synopsis here.
I actually stumbled upon this last night while I was flipping channels. Earlier in the day I had written about Halloween, and when I got home, my thoughts still seemed and I feared my entry didn't make much sense. I planned on re-commenting on it today, but then I got sucked into this documentary.
A world a way for me, but saddened me so much. I will probably never make it to the middle east in my life time, especially anywhere near the West Bank or Palestine/Israel, and to be honest, while I know there is a conflict raging their daily, like most Americans I probably don't pay all that much attention. Sorta like, 'Outta sight, outta mind'.
The story itself is tragic enough. We could go on and on and on about the ramifications, politics, etc. One thing that really caught my eye was the living conditions on both sides. The neighborhoods were so crowded, Arabic graffiti adorned the walls similar to what one would see in inner cities in America. But instead of gang signs and rude remarks, the scrawling was of Allah, or jihad, or other political statements. To me it reminded me of downtown Compton, CA...a place you don't want to be out at night, where all the windows have bars on them, and gunshots and sirens are a regular sound.
So it is just as common in sections of Israel and Palestine. Where in America, these sounds are associated with drug deals, prostitution, gang warfare, in the middle east it is about religious differences and occupation. Wow.
I was amazed at the attitudes of both families. Upon the anniversary of their daughters death, one mother cried and is still looking for answers, the other, while sad, celebrated heroism and nobility. You can guess which mother was which.
And to think this happens every day? Week? Month? Year? Generation?
As a Christian I was fascinated by both ideologies presented to me, and what there idea of peace and God's will is, and how different that is from mine. I read the bible, one reads the Torah, the other the Koran. Very religious books, 3 radically different interpretations.
I was very saddened by the parents outlook and attitude of the martyr, Ayat. While in their hearts they miss their child, they also believe she is a hero for her sacrifice and the justifications they offer are something we cannot comprehend, but seems absolutely normal to them.
The final thought I had was something that Christ said to us all: "I am the way the truth and the life; NO MAN cometh unto the Father BUT BY ME." -- Jesus Christ (John 14:6) And so I wonder, as a Christian, did both these children die for nothing? If they did not accept Christ, where do they reside now? I have an easier time accepting where Ayat may be, but I am not so sure about Rachel. Rachel was old enough to know about Christ, but did she die in denial of Christ as the savior, no matter how innocent she was? I do not know, for only Christ knows the condition of the heart and who spends eternity where, but as I sit on my couch and watch these past events with a slack jaw, I cannot help but think years of heartache for both families ended in two lost souls....literally.
November 01, 2007
Dol-drums
I think that spelling is what is generally accepted, but I'm not positive. That's how I feel today. I'm a bit tired; actually more tired than even I think I let on. This morning it was very gray and overcast outside with fog.....a day I would have liked to stay in bed for a bit longer even if I couldn't sleep.
I had a large cup of over-priced Starbucks this morning, and even that 20 oz IV drip of caffeine hasn't seemed to get me jump started today.
I glance at the clock and realize it's only lunch. A 200 calorie cup of instant Pad Thai noodles is my vice today, and while it sounded good at the store, it has left me grossly unsatisfied to say the least.
As was my dinner last night.
Shredded Trader Joe's BBQ chicken, nuked, and served over an open faced wheat hamburger bun. It was later than I would have liked, so I only ate one, but I told my wife it had no real taste anyway, so the thought and energy of making a second one never got off the ground.
Yesterday was Halloween.
I'm not sure what to make of this 'Holiday' anymore.
When I was a child, my parents took me trick or treating and it was a big thing. I was Steve Austin (the Bionic Man) once, Frankenstein, a ghost, and Tweety Bird amongst other characters.
Then one year when my parents got seriously religious I was scared into not celebrating Halloween any longer, lest I be giving homage to Satan and his minions. Instead, I was dropped off at a 'Harvest Festival' at my church at the time for cold pizza, some board games, and store bought treats.
I never really celebrated Harvest Festival again after that one year, nor did I partake in Halloween again until I was in college. And in college, it was more about an excuse to have throw back some beers and meet girls than it was about dressing up.
I remember that I was always leery about Halloween. Part of me enjoyed the idea of a party, a time to have fun, a time to have a few drinks and socialize....but the other part of me was indeed scared that I was not taking Christianity seriously, that perhaps Christ was frowning down upon me, that maybe, just maybe I was glorifying the evil one.
I have not worn a costume for about 15 years now, and I have no children to be faced whether I Trick or Treat or not.
Personally I dread Halloween, not necessarily for occultic overtones, but the sheer fact I hate opening the door every 2 minutes and handing out candy to kids that are generally impolite or feel I 'owe' them something for coming to my door. My wife thinks I'm a 'fuddy-duddy', but in all seriousness I count the hours until it's over.
There is a strong christian family that lives across from me, and this year they handed out candy and let their kids 'ToT'. My atheist neighbor who claims to be a very 'spiritual' person besides the fact she doesn't believe in God also was passing out candy.
My mother made a strange comment to me the other day which I just listened to and did not reply. I've been playing it over in my head since: "Maybe I was too hard on you as a kid for stopping you from participating in Halloween. I think I allowed certain Christian beliefs to go overboard in protecting you."
Now that she said that, it bothers me. It bothers me that my mother now thinks Halloween is okay from her spiritual side, that participating in handing out candy for 2-3 hours will not send me directly to hell. My conscious ebbs back and forth on my moms self-revelation. Sometimes I get mad that she robbed me of certain childhood memories in the name of 'faith', I also think she was 'right' at times. While I do not personally think that handing out candy will indeed send me to hell, I also recognize that the occult is indeed glorified on this day and does not sit well with me. Hence, I look forward to when the day comes and goes within a matter of hours.
I read from ChristianAnswers.net some articles regarding Harvest Festivals and Halloween and what should Christians should do. The authors equated that Harvest Festivals were just as bad as Halloween in a biblical sense, because it is a 'substitute' holiday meant to supplant one occultic day with something else to fill the void, and this is dangerous. In the end, even Harvest Festivals are made up of games, treats, etc...perhaps not with scary costumes, but to give children something to do in light of ToT and was sending mixed messages.
Personally, I can understand this point and even find myself agreeing with it. But what do 'I' do? My neighbors and wife continue to pass out candy. I sit outside because I am determined not to answer the door every minute, and I see some of the clever costumes. I even talk with some of the parents and wish them well and safety. I don't have the heart to deny children something they don't yet understand, but I can only pray. I sit in silence and quietly commune with God and Christ that I recognize this day is rife for spiritual attacks, and I pray for the kids, my neighbors, myself...that we don't take this day too seriously. That God knows my heart and the struggle within, and how do I set the correct example when I am not even sure how I genuinely feel myself.
The only non-confusing thing I do know, and I hope you realize I'm not trying to make a joke of it...is that my wife picked out all the Kit-Kat's just for me. Kit-Kat's are my favorite candy bar and now I have quite a few of them to enjoy.
I had a large cup of over-priced Starbucks this morning, and even that 20 oz IV drip of caffeine hasn't seemed to get me jump started today.
I glance at the clock and realize it's only lunch. A 200 calorie cup of instant Pad Thai noodles is my vice today, and while it sounded good at the store, it has left me grossly unsatisfied to say the least.
As was my dinner last night.
Shredded Trader Joe's BBQ chicken, nuked, and served over an open faced wheat hamburger bun. It was later than I would have liked, so I only ate one, but I told my wife it had no real taste anyway, so the thought and energy of making a second one never got off the ground.
Yesterday was Halloween.
I'm not sure what to make of this 'Holiday' anymore.
When I was a child, my parents took me trick or treating and it was a big thing. I was Steve Austin (the Bionic Man) once, Frankenstein, a ghost, and Tweety Bird amongst other characters.
Then one year when my parents got seriously religious I was scared into not celebrating Halloween any longer, lest I be giving homage to Satan and his minions. Instead, I was dropped off at a 'Harvest Festival' at my church at the time for cold pizza, some board games, and store bought treats.
I never really celebrated Harvest Festival again after that one year, nor did I partake in Halloween again until I was in college. And in college, it was more about an excuse to have throw back some beers and meet girls than it was about dressing up.
I remember that I was always leery about Halloween. Part of me enjoyed the idea of a party, a time to have fun, a time to have a few drinks and socialize....but the other part of me was indeed scared that I was not taking Christianity seriously, that perhaps Christ was frowning down upon me, that maybe, just maybe I was glorifying the evil one.
I have not worn a costume for about 15 years now, and I have no children to be faced whether I Trick or Treat or not.
Personally I dread Halloween, not necessarily for occultic overtones, but the sheer fact I hate opening the door every 2 minutes and handing out candy to kids that are generally impolite or feel I 'owe' them something for coming to my door. My wife thinks I'm a 'fuddy-duddy', but in all seriousness I count the hours until it's over.
There is a strong christian family that lives across from me, and this year they handed out candy and let their kids 'ToT'. My atheist neighbor who claims to be a very 'spiritual' person besides the fact she doesn't believe in God also was passing out candy.
My mother made a strange comment to me the other day which I just listened to and did not reply. I've been playing it over in my head since: "Maybe I was too hard on you as a kid for stopping you from participating in Halloween. I think I allowed certain Christian beliefs to go overboard in protecting you."
Now that she said that, it bothers me. It bothers me that my mother now thinks Halloween is okay from her spiritual side, that participating in handing out candy for 2-3 hours will not send me directly to hell. My conscious ebbs back and forth on my moms self-revelation. Sometimes I get mad that she robbed me of certain childhood memories in the name of 'faith', I also think she was 'right' at times. While I do not personally think that handing out candy will indeed send me to hell, I also recognize that the occult is indeed glorified on this day and does not sit well with me. Hence, I look forward to when the day comes and goes within a matter of hours.
I read from ChristianAnswers.net some articles regarding Harvest Festivals and Halloween and what should Christians should do. The authors equated that Harvest Festivals were just as bad as Halloween in a biblical sense, because it is a 'substitute' holiday meant to supplant one occultic day with something else to fill the void, and this is dangerous. In the end, even Harvest Festivals are made up of games, treats, etc...perhaps not with scary costumes, but to give children something to do in light of ToT and was sending mixed messages.
Personally, I can understand this point and even find myself agreeing with it. But what do 'I' do? My neighbors and wife continue to pass out candy. I sit outside because I am determined not to answer the door every minute, and I see some of the clever costumes. I even talk with some of the parents and wish them well and safety. I don't have the heart to deny children something they don't yet understand, but I can only pray. I sit in silence and quietly commune with God and Christ that I recognize this day is rife for spiritual attacks, and I pray for the kids, my neighbors, myself...that we don't take this day too seriously. That God knows my heart and the struggle within, and how do I set the correct example when I am not even sure how I genuinely feel myself.
The only non-confusing thing I do know, and I hope you realize I'm not trying to make a joke of it...is that my wife picked out all the Kit-Kat's just for me. Kit-Kat's are my favorite candy bar and now I have quite a few of them to enjoy.
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