Month: September 2020

Things have been so heavy that it is time to talk frivolity for a bit. I’ve been in a dark place and, well, I am getting through. In the meanwhile I am moving and I am trying to get to the point where I can reduce my outfits. The numbers are how I think that it works…

31 tees. I can wear 31 tees. That gives me one different tee for every day of the week. I’ll need to reduce the number I have to get to it, but I believe that leaves me only with the best of the flock. It works.

14 shorts and underwear. That means I can change them every day for two weeks before I need to wash them. What do I wear in the meanwhile? We will get to that. Now this number does not include gear for games which is also covered later. This is straight shorts life and gym shorts specifically, because that is what I rock in the land of Covid.

7 covers a number of things. 7 pairs of jeans. 7 pairs of nicer pants to go with 7 nice shirts and 7 ties. This also covers 7 sets of bedwear–shorts and tees that aren’t for outdoor use, and sweats as well.

5 focuses us in on the coaching and fan gear. My kids play high school and youth football. I coach the youth side, but I have chosen to stay away from High School coaching. I don’t want to commit to that. 5 covers the articles of clothing I will have from a team. That means I will have enough to sustain 2 practices and game day (3) and two games at the HS level. I should only ever have to deal with two in any given week and be able to wash weekly.

2 is the catch all for randomness. 2 Comic Con costumes. 2 suits. 2 of whatever works and is needed for any particular affair. I’m trying to reduce and two seems like a good number for such randomness.

So, that is me. 31, 14, 7, 5, 2. That is how I intend to order my life.

Some Thoughts:

1. Don’t let your partner become your ‘problem’. I learned that the hard way. Your partner is your refuge and together is the only way to move forward. I’m back on that page, though it will take a great deal of time and effort to prove it.
2. That being said, I’m an idiot when it comes to relationships. Like big dumb. Ocean dumb.

By definition despair is the complete loss or absence of hope. After last night it feels like I know a thing or two about that feeling. How do you get rid of it? How do you move from hopelessness and feeling emptied out and on the constant verge of collapse to making enough forward emotional progress to get through the day and into the next one? Well, I made it this far. I am no expert. In truth I am holding on by a gossamer thread, but I am still here. I also know that I will be here tomorrow and that, dear reader, is progress.

So, what have I learned? Let’s break it down in ten minutes (or less at this point).

1. The Power of Feet on Pavement. I walked around for a very short time today, and for the most part it was helpful. Getting up and getting moving can definitely force the mind to break from the strain of failure. If possible do some real exercise. I didn’t because I didn’t have it in me but maybe I could have if I tried. One thing is clear: Sitting in bed is a recipe for destruction.
2. Dive into story. This is also known as avoidance. I watched an episode of Alias and it distracted me long enough to get up and get moving if only a little.
3. Work. Double edged sword here. Work can be a refuge or a trigger. Today was more in the trigger column than anything else, so this is a tough one. I found moments of distraction in the job but it in no way made me happy. Still, the point is staving off despair, not suddenly being happy again.
4. Play Games. Madden helped. So did Clash Royale. Of course if you hit a losing streak then you’re back at square one, but at the same time it can be therapeutic to take an L and shake it off. It means that you recognize that there is more out there and there is a chance to be successful and eventually, happy.
5. Music makes the heart sing. This is a tricky one but it can be the most powerful force if done right. Stick to the upbeat and happy stuff. I let Jack Harlow and Pharell pop in my eardrums. I tried Tracy Chapman but that lingered on depressing long enough to precipitate another crash. Definitely avoid Sarah Mac. Definitely
6. Sex. Haven’t tried it, but I am certain the act of lovemaking chases the bad thoughts away. I mean, how could it not?

Some Thoughts:

1. I didn’t say write. That counts too. After writing this list I felt a little better about sharing.
2. So I guess sharing counts too…

Tonight I nearly took my own life. In this moment I regret that I didn’t. In that moment–the moment I turned back towards the shore–I realized how easy it would’ve been. The water felt warm and inviting and encouraged me to come down into the depths. I wanted nothing more than to accept that invitation.

Life gets extremely hard. Love–the act of loving and being in love–makes me so vulnerable that the idea of all of that love falling apart is too much to stand. Tonight I had to face the question of whether or not I am actually in love. I didn’t have an answer and I still don’t. I know the positive aspects of it have drained out of me like a deflated balloon. That is not her fault. I have lost any real sense of self (as discussed) and I believe that impacts everything around me. That is part of what dragged me into the ocean. Cowardice is another part of it.

Yes, life gets extremely hard and I was fully ready to surrender. I’m a 45 year old man with the dream partner and a good job and a chance to be a very good author and I was and still am ready to surrender. Beneath the surface of all of it is a current of rot that makes all of it feel like it can and will crumble.

So, when I realized how much pain I put the person I love most through on a daily basis and how hopeless I felt to ever change anything about my life to a better state–to a place where there was no rot–I gave up. I walked into the ocean and tried to give myself to the waters. The only thing that stopped me was that I didn’t want her to watch me die.

Now what?

Sitting here watching the morning’s ocean I am stuck wondering what I am doing with my life. I exist as a series of contradictions. My partner is a woman born of hard and fast music (punk rock) but exists in a very slowed, focused, and relaxed bubble of life. I am born of slow jams and exist in a bubble of overworked, overexcited, and jargon-driven madness. It is only when I am loaded up on coffee and staring at the horizon that any of it seems to balance out. Perhaps that is the issue–balance.

I watch the people moving to and from the beach in the mornings and I wonder what sort of lives they lead. Do they come and surf before work, put in the hours, and then come back to surf again? Is the beach their center? What is my center? What is my goal? The only sensation I tend to return to is overstimulation. I binge. Be it on TV or audiobooks or videogames, etc. Even sex for me is a rush of energy and excitement sustained for as long as possible followed by perhaps a day of refraction. I go all into everything I do, which feels at odds with the idea of being a jack of all trades, as I have expressed in the past.

In short, I feel this beach experience has allowed me to recognize some things about my life that are problematic and as a result start to sort some of that stuff out. It is very difficult to exist in this mental and physical space which is so fundamentally different than how I, long ago, decided life was to be lived. I do have a great deal of mental restructuring that needs to be done in order to become the person I want to be. However I need to decide to commit to that pursuit of first understanding who that person is and what ultimately will make me happy and how to balance that against the reality of the life I live and choose to lead from this moment on.

What matters is more important right now than deciding what matters most. I believe that is a key starting point in working towards a future that both satisfies and enriches me. If I feel satisfied and enriched I will be a better partner and less of an enraged soul.

Some Thoughts:

1. Last of the football drafts in a little over an hour. I am writing this down right now primarily to remember that it is happening.
2. I also need to write more. Much much more.

There is nothing more frustrating than being told by the person who you think (and thinks) knows you best that you don’t know yourself. At some point you either start to think that you are loosing your mind and are suffering from all facets of mental breakdown, are being utterly manipulated by that person, or that they don’t know you or don’t fully understand you or are not willing to come to grips with the differences between their interpretation and who you are in your thoughts and actions.

The hardest part for me in all of this is the separation between thoughts and actions and guiding those actions by what you think the other person is going to think or feel. After a while you stop feeling like any behaviors are ‘yours’ vs. cultured by the perceived expectations of the outside world. Moreover the less and less time you spend actually examining yourself the less and less you ever get a chance to reflect on what this ‘self’ actually is anymore.

So, in this fashion, I am starting to feel lost and angry and sad and alone and directed and unsafe and insecure and really unable to be myself without having a real sense of who that self is anymore coupled with a feeling that the self I still recognize is unacceptable and behaviors should be reshaped in order to suit the expectations of the people I want to be around.

After a while you get so used to being told you are wrong that you forget you ever had the ability to be right.

I’m going another friday without doing a freewrite. I just do not have it in me. I find that it is really difficult to even type without error after 10pm let alone exert creative energy. I don’t have anything left in the tank. So that in of itself is a moment of growth. I know I need to structure my writing life around a daylight schedule, because my night game is trash. Heck, I barely even remembered to do the blog.

Two minutes into this thing I don’t even know that I have much more to say other than I hate this low energy crap. I started thinking of food as fuel today, and simultaneously wondering what type of fuel my brain needed in order to be successful. I do not have the answer. In truth I fear that I haven’t been using the right fuel and continue to not to.

Lately post 10pm it isn’t only my mental functions that hit a sharp decline. I wonder how much of that is sugar related though. I tend to load up on simple sugars late and crash soon after.

So many questions… so little time.

Spending a little time in California and I am pleased.

That is it–blog over.

No, seriously, that is the start of things. I am happy and I am looking forward to the chance to really sit down and write. I am also extremely exhausted from the transfer from AZ to CA. There is a lot of fatigue dragging down the words. I am typing extremely slowly and with errors, which can be a sign of being over worked or be a sign of being on the verge of collapsing.

So, tomorrow will be another day and an important one for my partner. We will be celebrating.

Some Thoughts:

1. I’m way too wiped to put together anything resembling coherent thought.
2. Blog fail…

Two drafts this weekend and a 3rd team already drafted before I joined this other league. That 3rd team is a bit of a mess with a lot riding on Kamara who may or may not be a Saint by the start of the season. I don’t go for the uncertainty. I like a clear and present sense of WTF is going to happen. Covid limits that but there are certain undeniable truths.

Truth 1:

Barkley will be the top fantasy back barring injury. Nick Chubb will rank in the top five. McCaffery? Yeah he’s going to do very well, but I don’t see the team riding him to the extent they did last season. Given the choice I would draft Barkley first and go for a surefire QB pick second and follow that with another RB and then receivers. Yeah, I know this is PPR, but I think the backs are going to get yards and the WR choices are, generally speaking, deeper.

Truth 2:

Brady is going to be successful. He has too many weapons not to have a sick sick season. I am going to start that man. He has a chip on his shoulder again and several dangerous targets to choose from.

Truth 3:

There is no sure fire defense. There are perhaps 3 you can ride all season and get decent points, but the way to go is week to week. Save your draft capital for other positions including kicker. A good kicker is valuable especially early in the season where these teams have no practice against opponents and points may come fast a freely.

Truth 4:

I’m not taking the L in all three leagues. I’m going to win at least one…

Well, I am in my new writing space. I am happy with the space as it currently exists, but I am entirely open to change and advancement based on what is going to make me more productive. As is, I think the space lends itself to creativity. We have colorful walls and three bookshelves (plus) worth of inspiration. We have an acidwash floor that just screams creativity and good lighting at the desks themselves.

Speaking of desks, we are at opposite ends of the room, giving each of us enough space to work and be productive, but allowing the ease of spinning around and having a conversation. At one point we considered putting a bookshelf between us as a room divider, but it felt pointless. What is the value of sharing a space if your first recourse is to hide yourself behind a bookcase? For me the only value in the bookcase idea was to be able to have a great zoom background where I sit at the nexus of books. That is not going to be ‘the way’ and I am going to be okay with that.

I needed this. I need a space that I feel is my own and I am comfortable with. I share it with her, but I have my own side and my own desk and my own setup that mirrors hers but is absolutely different–an alternate world reflection as if drawn from the early Superman comics. The entire setup brings a smile to my face that touches my ears, and we aren’t even done with it yet. We intend to add a couch to make the space feel cozy.

I’m happy, and that matters.

Today was a tough work day. I was swamped with a number of work details that needed ironing out and I failed entirely to access my creativity. I did not write. I still have not written anything of creative value in several days. Time and again there just is not time to do the things I want to do, and that is because of how things transpire on a day to day basis. Today it was kids and the drama commonly associated with co-parenting along with birthday planning.

Here is the thing: When one parent feels like the balance of responsibility is shifting then they fight that shift. I am dealing with that in the most mundane of ways–Paperwork. I don’t mind doing paperwork, however I cannot do the paperwork needed for this, and that should be enough for the ex to take the weight. As with everything it ends up being about more than that. It ends up being about that shift of responsibility and the kids suffer as a result.

I am going to need to let them deal with it on their own. I do a lot. I cannot continue being the one who carries all the weight.