Medical Madness

DISCLAIMER: Contains graphic images.

Sometimes it is necessary to  make a decision in the interest of self-preservation. The reality of such decisions is that it can be a difficult decision. Sometimes, however, the answer is glaringly obvious. So it is with my decision to return to a skilled nursing facility. I know it is the right decision, the only decision that makes sense. Losing my foot is not an option I wish to consider, but it is a disturbing reality. I have been fighting with wounds on my feet for the past 5 years. On my right foot for about 3 of those years. For the most part, it has remained at it's status quo for the majority of the time. Open wound, wound care, some healing, undermining, debriding, dressing, wait a week repeat.

It has been a long and frustrating time as the wound showed little signs of healing as I was unable to stay off of it. So finally, had to lose a small bone from my foot. The surgeon also performed a radial graft, and for a moment, the wound looked great....

Until it didn't.... (four days later)

Now I really do not want to complain, as this really is my fault for not being able to stay off of it. But I am concerned that even though I have been off my foot for a week, the degradation may have continued. I find out later today when the cast comes off long enough for wound care. Fingers crossed. Hell... it may work, I have tried everything it seems except total compliance.

Update: The appointment went well! Both the podiatrist and I were pleased and surprised at how different the wound looked after only a week. I still may have to be here a month, but at least I know that it is possible for me to walk out of here at the end of this.

I don't want to complain. I do not want to whimper or whine. In fact, these would all be in conflict withe the man I want myself to be. Still, there are things which have been weighing heavily on my mind these past few weeks, things which I feel I must get off my chest.

First of all, having spent a fair amount of time thinking about this, I realize that I need to make an effort, a true effort to write in this blog more consistently. This morning a friend posted online that they felt that people were somehow treating emotions as something to be avoided, because in talking about their feelings, or listening to another person's feelings somehow made them uncomfortable.

I observed frankly that my childhood experience conditioned me to believe emotions to be something to hide. Emotions were not acceptable as they were a sign of weakness. Further, I was abused in most ways possible, and when talking about feelings were considered to be a sign of weakness, I shoved them ever deeper, thus causing further harm to my young psyche.

But after reading my friends post, I replied with these words:

  "I was forced to believe that emotions were not acceptable and it resulted in years of internalized suffering. I’ve since learned that emotions are an essential part of what makes us human. It is wise to be in control of them, to recognize them, to talk about them, and to feel them. It is not wise to let them control you."

I realized after the fact that I really should take my own advice more often. Sometimes, like today, I come up with real gems. This observation made me think, "Gee! I need to get back into journaling or blogging, or both. I got out of the habit, and the years I lost are only highlighted by the time I have remaining, however long that is. But I know that as I age further, I will have more to write about.  I need to spend time thinking about what I wish to blog, and what I wish to journal. 
All I know for certain is that this time, I cannot falter for long, or I may never return to it, and I have already lost over 20 years. How much life have I missed? The emptiness is filled only with regret. 

I shall try to write a paragraph aor two a day. amd see how it goes. Then I need to get into the habit of Journaling as well. 

Second, recent events which would have done me well to journal about are on my mind, as I try to sort out my memories in a cohesive manner. I need to finish the outline, and I need to determine my next few steps.These steps are critical.

 or blogging or both."

draft test

Well, Fuck...

What else can I say? What else needs to be said? I swear it feels like a lifetime has passed since my last entry, and perhaps it has.  I have been struggling with even being able to log on and add entries for a while now, in part because I have been having a problem with browser redirects. I Could not find anything in my browser that might be causing the problem. I tried several malware fixes, but none worked. I finally accessed the damn thing from my phone long enough to figure out which gadget was responsible. I deleted it from my page, and no more redirects. I can only assume that other people had the same problem as my site has seen no traffic in a long time. I doubt very much if I have any followers left.

I need to take time to get back to this, and start writing again. I have tried to start another blog, but because of my health issues, I found myself unable to follow through with it. I am hoping that may change. But it will not happen tonight. I have medical appointments tomorrow, and it is late. So for now, this is just a check in.

"It has been a long while, my friend. I haven't spoken to you in so long.... ! How have you been?  I did not realize how much I have missed you until just now.... ; It is so very good to see you!"

Have you ever had a greeting like that? One where you are so happy to see your friend that you are truly happy to see them... yet at the same time saddened, regretful that you had let so much time pass? The loss of countless moments when you could have been doing something... anything together.... and there is legitimate sorrow that these moments are lost?

Well,  that is where I am at in this, my blog, but also in many areas of my life. I just got out of the hospital again, not even really clear what was wrong, only that when I arrived in the ER, I was barely conscious, cold, running a fever of 103.7, and apparently with a heart rate of close to 150 bpm. My white blood cell count was up over 20, (whatever the hell that means!) indicating I was fighting some sort of infection, possibly viral. So they dumped me on antibiotics, a lot of them, treated me as if I had the flue (which I did not we learned later) and until they dropped 4mL of morphine into my veins, I was having a really hard time.... although now I can figure out why I do not remember much. It got a little foggy after that, and more so after the subsequent injection of dilaudid. I do not remember much about being taken up to the second floor. It is all a little hazy. As was most of the first day, though now it seems like several had already passed. Again, I wonder why? But apparently somewhere along the line I had the opportunity, while on morphine in the emergency room, to post a selfie on facebook. Guess I should be glad I was clothed.

 SO I got distracted. I saw my niece online and said howdy, and although brief, it may have been the most adult conversation she and I have ever had. I was there the day she took her first steps. She took them toward me, halting, unsteady, but determined, before collapsing against my knees with a gigantic grin. She balanced herself, lifted herself upright, and with a new direction, she ran back to her mother across the living room. (Maybe six feet... but it was the accomplishment, not the distance that was important.) That was pretty much the last time any of  us saw her sit still for a moment. At least that is how it seems to her mom and I.  It is getting close to four years ago now, the last time I saw her, and perhaps the last time any of us will see the little girl she once was. Her Mom was in the hospital very sick, needed heart surgery. And she needed to make some very adult decisions for her Mom. She was close to wits end, and I was as proud as could be of her for being so grown up. I told her so, and then, for a moment... just a moment, she was the little girl again as she stomped her feet and said "But I don't wanna be a grown up!"But I digress  I am getting off track.

"Life teaches us painful lessons, which we, as parents, want to protect our children from, but in the end, they too, must learn some things on their own. The circle closes, ad infinitum." ~ Me, during a chat with my niece

I chatted with her briefly this morning and it was during that conversation that I happened to type a truism. I like it when that happen because it makes me feel a little better about myself, the wisdom I have gained as I have gotten older. I come across them occasionally and surprise myself. I really need to start writing this down! Which is partly why I am here today blogging. My journals and blogs are in a way my friends. Who else but myself, and or my few readers would care about any of this stuff  Perhaps one day my blog will have a following, but in order for that to happen, I have to write in it. Otherwise, who would want to read it? So there I am. Life is right there,  just waiting. Begging me to reach out and take it.

To those who do read me, I apologize for being gone so long. I will try harder to write more often.

Part of what must be on my mind.

I do not often dream about people I can easily identify, unless I see them often. So last night it seemed odd that I should dream so clearly about my nephew Alan who is recently deceased. It was not a remarkable dream. For some reason, in my dream, Yvonne and I were out shopping at some sort of thrift store, and she had found several necklaces which appeared to be teardrop shaped glass pendants on dainty chains. Each pendant seemed to have images of babies, a little like Anne Geddes' art work, somehow embedded in high resolution into the glass. I get that... what woman does not like babies? Not something I would have bought , however... but the strange part was in my dream was my nephew Alan was apparently working at the shop in some capacity. He was wearing some sort of headpiece enabling him to manage the phones and talk to a supervisor while helping customers. That was strange. Alan liked people, and might have done well in retail at one time, but he preferred a different method to making money that did not involve actual work. Too, in the dream, he seemed happy, clean, and healthy. That was the odd part. I had not seen him be any of these things in several years. But, upon waking, I still felt somehow good, because in a way. I sensed that he may be those things now.

I am nervous, very nervous about tomorrow. I have been in pain so long now that I am desperate for relief, but I am still nervous. Not as scared perhaps as when I went in for heart surgery, but I have had a lot more time to think about this, and there are several reasons I believe that my nerves are getting the best of me. First of all, as with any procedure, there are risks. I could walk out of the procedure  and it could not work. I could have to go through it again. I could get a serious infection. I could end up walking out in worse shape then when I walk in. Or, it could work, and I may find the relief I seek. But even if I do, I know it is just a temporary fix, a bandage on a condition which I may have to deal with for the rest of my life. I hate that. I hate my damn walker, and I hate every moment of pain I have to go through. I took a shower last night, and the pain made it difficult to do, and more so, it made it difficult to dry off and get dressed afterwards.

That's the thing with this sort of problem, the little things we take for granted every day. When our body no longer lets us do those things without pain, or when the pain becomes so great that we cannot do those things at all.... it becomes overwhelming. Emotionally, since this all began, I have changed, a lot. But not necessarily for the better in all respects. In fact, all but one of the changes, it seems, are negative. The one positive change I have seen is that I am more appreciative of the "good days". But mostly, I regret not being able to do the things I once did. I regret that so much goes undone. I regret that household chores do not get done. I feel like a burden, and I feel guilt. I feel worthless, and I feel depressed.

I have no sense of accomplishment most days, and beyond that, I see things coming up that will require a lot of work, and I do not know how I will handle it. So it seems apparent to me that I am going to have to make it easier on myself in the future by getting rid of stuff, or I am going to have to ask for help. Asking for help is not always easy.But I suppose I had better get used to it. It would appear that some years in the future, I will have to rely more heavily on others. I hate that idea. But hopefully, I can maintain my mind, if not my body,, and I can at the very least continue to express my appreciation to those that are there for me when I need it. I used to joke that I planned on being difficult for the poor nurses when I do end up in a nursing home. I realize now, that by then, my pride will be largely broken, and I will be better off by being kind and appreciative. It may get me a lot further if I do not make all the nurses hate me.

I do have another option, and it is the scariest of all. I can make good choices now, and work harder than I ever have to reclaim my health, to strengthen myself, and to try to reverse as many of these things as I can now. That means a lifestyle makeover. I have to rethink everything, plan. make a commitment to myself, to God, and to others that I will not give up, that I will keep picking myself up when I fail, and try again. I have to will myself to beat this thing, and I may have to ask for help in doing it.

But for now, let me just get through this next week.

First Poem in a very long while.

Another poem by Jeffery F Walton

I do not write poetry as often as I would like. Nor do I necessarily write very good poetry. However, when I do get the urge to write poems, it is usually the result of feeling pretty low about something going on in my mind or life. Today, obviously, I am having struggles in my relationship.  It happens, but I have allowed things to get out of hand.

I do not necessarily want to go into details, and won't go into many. However, I will say that with the developments of the recent changes in my health, and the resulting pain, I have found myself    unable to control my emotions. I have been frustrated at myself and my situation. I have been angry at my inability to do the things I have always done with ease until now. I have been angry because in many respects my life feels totally out of control. Not good for someone with OCD. As a result, I have taken all of these feelings out on those closest to me. Shameful, I know, and pain is not an excuse for being an asshole. But there it is.

This poem is for the person I claim to love, but have not been acting like it. I do not blame her for her feelings right now. I only hope and pray that I can pull my head out of my ass and get back on track before it is too late. In as much as anything, this post is a public apology to a wonderful woman who deserves a whole lot better than I have been lately.

Unexpected encouragement.

Yesterday was a long day. I was presented with news that I could have gone a lifetime without hearing. The telephone rings, and a voice, perhaps familiar, perhaps not, disembodied, impersonal, yet belonging to a person who is faced with one of the more difficult tasks in life, proceeds to tell you that someone you know and perhaps loved is gone. It is a part of life. These things happen to each of us in time. Sometimes we are the recipients of bad news, sometimes the task falls to us to deliver the news to someone we care about, or other times to people we may not even know. It is an unenviable task, one which there is simply no easy way to do. You cannot really prepare someone for the news, because that only sets their mind to spinning, "Oh God! What is it?" On the other hand, the bearer of the bad tidings must be considerate of the recipients feelings. But there is no easy way. 

How do you tell them that someone they know and perhaps loved is dead, and not coming home tonight? In my experience, the direct approach is usually best. Don't beat around the bush, simply express your regrets up front, and simply state the facts in as clear and concise a manner as possible. Then remain with the person, either in person, or on the phone, long enough to offer whatever support and condolences that you can, listen to them, answer the questions, and then, making sure they are as okay as they can be under the circumstances, walk away. Your job is done. Anything less would be insensitive, anything more would be maudlin. I applaud young Quinn for the tactful way in which he handled the painful duty. He was personally involved with my nephew, worked with him, and knew him better than most. He was a friend to Alan John. I am thankful for everything he did for Alan, and in turn for me. Quinn is a nice man, a caring man, working in a challenging field, advocating for the needs of the homeless, focusing specifically on providing them with an avenue off the streets. 

In many cases, it seems like we walk past the homeless, sometimes not even sparing them a glance, or acknowledging their presence. But thankfully there are a few, people like Quinn, who find a calling in serving the needs of the homeless, of treating them with dignity and respect. People like Quinn who see people like my nephew Alan as more than just a sad statistic, but as a person, a human being who has a story, feelings, needs, but who most of all just one person to care enough about them to not look away.

In the past few years I have learned that there is a fine line between helping someone, and enabling someone. Sometimes doing one means doing the other. What can you do in those circumstances? That is something I have yet to figure out. But, along with the many other things that are important to me, this is something I have begun to feel strongly about. One of my things is that I enjoy writing, I find it cathartic. It helps me to sort out my thought and feelings. But I have a tendency to only write about the events as they happen. 

A friend of mine, last night, took me aside, and encouraged me to pursue my writing, as have many others before him.But he suggested that I not necessarily write in a linear fashion. Who says I need to keep things in any sort of order? The important thing is that I take the time, explore my observations, past present, and future, without regard to the actual sequence of events. Also to allow myself the freedom to write in whatever manner I see fit... forget about making points, or targeting audiences. Focus instead on the simple act of writing and see where it takes me. So... right now, I haven't a clue where it will lead, but I did want him to know that I did listen, I did hear him, and I genuinely appreciate the input.

Years End

It has been a long time since I last posted to this blog. A very long time. This is something I hope to rectify... I hope to begin blogging again in part because I think the simple act of writing will be therapeutic. The past couple years, my life has changed drastically, and in a way, I feel a little like the fish pictured above. My world has gotten smaller, and because of health issues, I have become trapped in my own little microcosm. I can see the world outside, I still have some movement, but it is limited by unseen barriers. I have my basic needs taken care of, but the freedom I once enjoyed  is at this moment lost to me. But the problem is, I can still see beyond the tank I find myself in... I can see the outside world, and it seems so close .... if I could only grasp it! So, I have started a new blog which will highlight this new journey I am embarking on; the journey to reclaim my health and my life. You can find it here:  http://comingbacktolife.weebly.com

It is my most fervent hope and prayer that 2013 will be the year I take control of my life and my health, and reclaim what is mine. 

Spot Check

It has been awhile since I wrote anything to my blog, and I am feeling a little guilty for being remiss in my writing. However, aside from simply checking in to inform those that read this, if in fact any remain, that I am still alive, I do not really have time tonight to update. Suffice to say, I am well, reasonably content in my circumstances, and looking forward to more positive changes as they happen. Life is pretty good lately, and I am truly blessed. Promise to write more later.

The two year rule

I should be in bed. I have a busy day tomorrow, but I do not feel tired. I am again up in the middle of the night pondering thoughts and feelings, wondering to myself how I went from Point A to Point B. I did not recognize the transition, I just rather abstractly observed that something in fact had changed, and I was surprised.

I suppose it is like growing up. We are young one minute, thinking that this will go on forever, then suddenly, it is 25 years later and we look in the mirror at the old stranger who now stares back at us with wrinkles, gray hair, and looser skin. Long vanished is the healthy glow of youth, replaced by the scars of experience.

I remember how painful my separation and divorce was, how I bargained with God, myself, and even my ex wife to not let it end, not looking, nor caring then, how unhealthy the relationship was. For a time after I watched her drive away without so much as a glance back in the mirror, I still clung to the futile hope that if I just loved her, it would all work out in the end. And so it did... it worked out, but not as I hoped, nor as I planned.

I began to fill my time with activities, and made new friends. As time passed, the anger and hurt faded, replaced with a lesser form of love and acceptance. I realized that I had fallen out of love with my wife, and I began to realize how our relationship was unhealthy and codependent. More time passed, and I began to deal with some of my underlying issues, only to find that there were more issues for me to deal with.  In time, perhaps because we started out as friends, we found that our friendship, albeit changed, was still there. To this day, I value her friendship above many others even though, honestly, there are times (and I say this with some alacrity) that I am glad we are no longer married.

Tonight I realized that I have fallen out of love again. It was just a matter of time, and Lord knows I tried to hang onto the love I felt. But the object of my affections quit returning my love long ago. The token gestures she has made over time has fallen woefully short of the love I needed. The person I fell in love with was not who I thought she was. Yet, for the longest time, oddly, about the same amount of time as it took me to come to the same realization  with my ex wife, I clung to a dream that my heart wanted to believe in, which my mind told me time and time again was not ever going to happen.

So tonight when I realized that, although I allow myself to maintain some feelings for this person, they are not to the degree they once were. I have no real feelings of regret or remorse, nor even sadness. In fact, I think if I had to choose a single word for what I am feeling, the word would be relief. It is too bad though. I really had hoped for better things, but with the loss of trust and respect, and to a degree, a loss of faith in this person, I can no longer hold on to the dream. Maybe someday, I can have a real friendship with her, but for the longest time it has been pretty one sided.I just wonder why it takes me longer to learn than others.

I have come to a conclusion though... Since it takes me about two years to come to terms with a failed relationship, I am going to allow at least four years for any relationship I am in. Two years of dating and getting to know someone before getting serious, and if it falls apart then, two years to pull my head out of my ass. Seems like a good number anyway.

Getting a move on.

I have not been feeling very well the past few days, and have accomplished very little. In the smallest sense, anyway, I do not feel I have been very productive. Today, accomplishing half of one chore outside made me feel a little better, but inside I have made several steps in the right direction. I still feel like shit, however. I have a doctor appointment two days hence, and I am both apprehensive about it, and looking forward to it at the same time. I do not like being in pain, and am hopeful that the doctor will take me seriously. It is not like I enjoy being in pain, but anymore doctors approach pain issues with kid gloves, and it is frustrating that many people are being made to suffer for the actions of a few. Oh well... it is a brave new world in which certain drugs are dispensed only by timed release, and everyone is looked at as an addict or an idiot. There is little in between it seems in the eyes of a pharmacist, who looks at everyone with skepticism. Who could blame him (or her as the case may be) in today's society?

Anyway, this morning I have freed up over 12 Gigabytes on my laptop hard drive, which is phenomenal... moving all of my documents and inessential files to an external drive. Next step is to do a back up of the laptop, just in case. Down the road, I will likely have a new laptop, and possibly a working desktop. I figure I may as well simplify now. Other things on my agenda involves going through my closet and alphabetizing my clothes. (An OCD joke) I have been struggling with the small opening to my closet compared to the large doors. The doors can never open more than 20 inches or so, making it impossible to really get to anything in the closet, so I took the damn things down.  Not that anyone besides me cares about such things, but this is what I am doing today.

By the way, the Ducks lost to Auburn, and even though I live in Oregon now, I just don't care. Does that make me a bad man?

Salad Days

I have had a recurring thought the past few days that I thought I might want to write about at some point, but am not really prepared tonight to give it the time or attention it deserves. However, having met my ex wife's Aunt tonight, I was again reminded that I need to put some thought into it. In my lifetime, I have learned that when things keep popping up in your daily life, there is usually a reason for it, and to me, this recurring thought tells me that I definitely need to spend some time thinking about it, and eventually writing about it at more length.

Tre's Aunt asked me how long she and I had been married, and I responded "Twelve Years," happy that it sounded like a suitably long enough time to suggest that plenty of effort was made to make the marriage work, "but we only were together for ten of those years." I amended. I think a lot about the whys, and the hows of my failed marriage, and I hold myself responsible for the failure, generally disregarding whatever role my ex played in the failure. "That part is for her to own, and it is not my responsibility to place blame or responsibility on her." I reason to myself. This is, of course, true enough. But it would be so much easier if I could blame the failures on my youth or inexperience.

"Salad days" is an idiomatic expression, referring to a youthful time, accompanied by the inexperience, enthusiasm, idealism, innocence, or indiscretion that one associates with a young person. The phrase was coined in Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra in 1606. In the speech at the end of Act One in which Cleopatra is regretting her youthful dalliances with Julius Caesar she says: "...My salad days, / When I was green in judgment, cold in blood..."  Whether the point is that youth, like salad, is raw, or that salad is highly flavoured, and youth loves high flavours, or that innocent herbs are youth's food, ... few of those who now use the phrase could perhaps tell us; if so it is fitter for parrot's than for human speech. Nevertheless, it is about the best title I could come up with for this entry. So much time has passed, my view of myself, my ex wife, my marriage, and the world in general has changed.

I would like to think I am a wiser man, perhaps better prepared now than I was then for when love again finds me. But I can only hope that when and if it does, that I can apply whatever wisdom I have gained in the interim, yet still find the same enthusiasm I had in the "salad days" of my youth.

MMXI

January 1st, 2011; A new year, with the same promises of years before, to be a better year for me. Naturally, I made no concrete resolutions, no promises of changing habits or behaviors, so 2011 is beginning relatively stress free. I do have a few things in my head that I hope to accomplish this year, and with a little effort on my part, a little planning, and a little good fortune, I am optimistic that some of these expectations I have of myself may come to fruition. But, and I say this with some alacrity, I am not going to beat myself over the head with any self defeating bullshit for any perceived failure on my part. I am just going to keep plugging away at things, and take a look at things again a year from now and see how I have done.

Without any firm commitments to accomplish even a single goal, I do have a few areas in my life that I think merit a little more effort on my part. I need to take a more proactive approach toward my healthcare... I need to be a better advocate for myself. That is probably the most important thing I will be looking at during this year. Additionally, I have a few financial goals, but I am not going to stress over them. I am just going to look at the individual steps necessary for me to be more fiscally responsible. I hope to use my time more productively in 2011. Time is my single biggest resource, and I am getting to an age now where I do not feel comfortable simply squandering my greatest resource.  Seems pretty simple, huh?  Yeah.. well...we shall see. I have never really been all that good at resolutions. I would set these lofty goals, and then beat myself over the head with every single failure, year after year.

Other things that are in the back of my head, but again... no promises...; I hope to write more this year, perhaps even some poetry. I plan on taking more photographs, as I have been truly enjoying taking photos this past year. Maybe I will take a couple classes, or maybe I will get more active in my church or the community... maybe I will learn to dance.... Yeah right! And Maybe monkeys might fly out my butt. Anyway.. you get the point. This is my year, my time, my life, and I mostly hope to start enjoying myself a little more. To those who still read this, I hope you find 2011 to be a fun and prosperous year as well.

Years End

I realize the need to update this thing, especially in that 2010 has been a real disappointment at least as far as my blog goes. I have hardly written at all. But, 2010 has been a great year for me... I am healthier than I have been in a long time, my attitude has improved, I am more active, and actually have somewhat of a life away from the computer. (I KNOW!) I have begun taking more photographs, and have made a few friends this past year, started going back to church and truly, for the most part have been enjoying life. I still have not blogged as often as I would have liked, and I have done no artwork.

I will be attempting to clean this up a little in the next few weeks or months. My web presence has gotten a little ... disorganized. I am hoping to take care of that as time goes on. In any case, it is my hope that 2011 provides me with many new adventures, a sense of fulfillment, and continued progress towards my personal goals.  I wish the same for each of you.

The Bitter Cold

It is cold outside, patches of frozen slush lie here and there beneath the trees that rise up from within the neighborhood like monolithic spires. The trees surround us here in Pheasant Park, like a mask, they both envelop and protect the neighborhood, towering mostly straight and tall above the homes and wetlands that lie beneath. Nearly invisible in satellite images, the quiet loops and cul de sacs are sheltered from the busy highway just a couple hundred meters away. Sheltered from light, noise, snow, and to a degree, even rain, the neighborhood is a testament to the dreams of the affluent people that lived here 40 years ago. It is a nice neighborhood, one way in, one way out, even the tires of the cars that venture past the NO OUTLET signs are muffled by the blanket of pine needles and leaves. The jays and the squirrels chatter at one another, while the herons wade through the wetlands. Residents walk their dogs to the end of the road and back, casually waving at each other as they pass. It is a nice neighborhood, and I am thankful beyond measure to be able to live here However, in the garage, where the spiders gather for their union meetings, plotting the eventual demise of the humans that also reside here, it is cold, dusty and unpleasant. This is where I have spent the last three days, scrubbing, cleaning, shuffling, moving, organizing, and stacking what seems like mountains of refuse. In short, I am not having very much fun.

Yet, I am glad not only for the place to live, and the kindness of the woman that rents to me, but also for the opportunity to do these chores which have been a welcome distraction from the myriad things on my mind. Too, I am looking forward to being able to go out into the garage and actually be able to move about freely and to be able to locate a tool or a box with relative ease. My landlord looks forward simply to being able to park her nearly $50k Volvo SUV out of the weather. We both look forward to being able to do things in the garage, ranging from painting, to carpentry, to pottery, to bike repair, and weightlifting. I marvel at my fortune to have landed such a place to live, and know it is part of a larger plan. It is that plan, and the personal struggles that I am having that occupy many of my thoughts lately.

The holidays generally are a difficult time for me, having little family around, and being uncomfortable around strangers. I miss having family around, and I miss being surrounded by those I love. Love itself is one of the things that troubles me. It adds to life, and makes it all worthwhile, but at the same time it can be so complicated, so confusing, and at times even empty and painful. A life without love is like thorns without a rose. Where is the reward for having to deal with all the pricks? (I know... my bad... but it seemed too apt to pass up on!)

I am in the middle... I think... of reinventing myself, of discovering who I am, and who God would have me be. I have always believed in God, but not always followed the rules. But as I reached my 40's, I really started coming into being. I know, without hesitation or reservation, that God has been actively working on me for quite some time... molding me, shaping me, leading me, preparing me for something big. Unfortunately, change never comes easily, though sometimes it comes quickly. In my case, I fight it, so it doesn't come all that quickly either. I guess I am just a slow study. Be that as it may, I have spent enough time in prayer and meditation to have realized that I am EXACTLY where I need to be at EXACTLY the right time. Even though I do not like it, I am supposed to be still, and wait. Continue what I am doing, and draw closer to God. That is what I know. However.... I have OCD and control issues, and relinquishing control for me is not easy. I want the things I want, and I want them now. I do not always understand why I have to wait. I am only recently learning how to apply something I have known for years. "Let go, and let God." Trusting people is difficult, and trusting God can be too. Especially if you are like me, and want to do things your own way.

Right now, I need to be out working in the garage, but I am sitting here typing. It is warmer in the house than in the garage. I want to continue with this thought, and am afraid if I stop, that I will not get back to it. Such, too, is the case with the garage. If I do not stop this, I will never complete that. Sigh* Wish me luck... This project and two others needs to be done by tomorrow afternoon. I will get back to writing a little later.

If you do happen to see this, please let me know you dropped by. I could really use the encouragement. Thanks, and have a great day, and a Happy Thanksgiving. Even if I do not want to celebrate, I do have a lot to be thankful for. What are you thankful for?

INSOMNIA

Middle of the night I should be dreaming, but awake....thoughts a streaming.

I dream of her, can't help it, I just do... Broken promises and dreams that won't come true.

Not intending to write a poem.... but 2:am, me up alone....

Wanting something... mostly not to dream.

Yeah, yeah.. hokey... but I was looking at a blank page at 2:00 in the morning. What the heck was I supposed to do? I began typing. Don't ask me for apologies. I have none.

In any failed love there are several things that hold true. One... there is always someone left behind. Two, whether or not we like to admit it, men tend to have a harder time bouncing back. Women talk, women cry, women move on. Men have less friends to talk to about it, and lets face it... most of our friends don't care to listen. We were all raised up to "suck it up" and pretend like we weren't hurt. But... in spite of our denial, we do hurt. Fact.

Anyway... my breakup has been going on for a very long time. Almost from our first kiss. I do not know why I fell so hard for this one... but I did. Now, it is time to heal and move on.... but every night when I go to sleep, she taunts me in my dreams. I really thought I had a handle on this thing. I know the relationship is dead, no chance of fixing it. The trust and respect are irretrievably broken, and there is no going back. What sort of a fool would I be if I did go back? Not that it is an option. She is still lying to me... still stringing me along, still trying to keep me at arms length... just in case things don't work out for her.... she tells me she loves me, that she will always be my friend... that she misses me... and even though she cheated on me, used me, lied to me, and blamed everything on me.... my stupid heart still wants her. So... at night, when I should be asleep, wishing it were in her arms, I am awake, having a battle between my head and my heart. My head knows that this is all bullshit. I know I need to let it go and move on. But my heart.... stupid thing... just won't let me. If she were to read this, she would get upset... call it hurtful, and tell me that I was being mean, and how she could not believe how hurtful I was being.

I love her... but, I really don't give a shit what she thinks anymore. Let her parade around with her mock hurt and tell me how mean I am being... when I am the one who was lied to, betrayed, and cheated on. I wish her no harm, no ill will, but I feel sorry for the next guy. He is gonna need some really broad shoulders if he is gonna carry her baggage around for her.

Here is the catch... someday she may see this... or someone may tell her about it. But while my heart is hurt, my head is angry. Later maybe... big maybe, I can be her friend. But first, I am gonna expect her to treat me like one instead of breaking one promise after another. A certain amount of let down is expected.. but a short list.... lets just focus on one thing... Dependability. She promised to get me to my sons wedding. FAIL. She promised to get me to my mothers grave on Mom's birthday. FAIL. She promised to get me to a job interview on time. FAIL. She promised to love me and be my friend forever... kind of hard to do when she never stopped looking while we were living together, cheated on me while we were together, many times.... lied to me, led me on, used me, and then, when things were not going her way, made me feel like I was the bad guy. If that is love and friendship... count me out.

UPDATE

I have been remiss in my responsibilities at least as far as blogging goes. I have been busier than normal, happier than normal, healthier than normal. In short, the move was a very good one for me. Met CrazyDogMomma this past month for lunch as she passed through on her move to California. Best wishes go out to her. She is likely settled in by now.

Life is good. If I could just get my financial under control, I would say that I am in the best shape overall in a very long time. Better in some areas, healthier in others. I do not recall simply enjoying life as much as I have recently, in a good number of years. I know I should post more, but really, for now.. that is the best I have. And Bruce.... Looking forward to the pics from Burning Man 2010.