A Dry Run

I love drinking. Ones that burn going down, the cold beer, the sweet sipping kind, a good mellow red glass of wine.

I don’t like getting shit-faced. It happens way less than in my youth.

It’s been a week since I got too lit. I was drowning some guilt and pouring my heart out to someone I truly respect. It was a top 3 meltdown. I’m not proud, but I think it was needed.

I haven’t had a sip all week. I’ve done this before. I respect drinking, I am a proponent of responsible drinking. My father was a horrendous alcoholic before his stroke gave him a huge reset.

My dad wasn’t an abusive drunk. He would go to the bar after work (he was a machinist in a steel mill).

A 50 year old bachelor married a widow with 4 children and brought an unplanned child (me) into this world. I think he was depressed of the life he made. so he found escape in the bottom of a glass and bottle.

So as I see all the various types of liquor we have in our house, I haven’t touched….and over a half case of beer I bought a week ago…..I feel good that I am not an alcoholic.

I do have trouble knowing when to stop sometimes. (Getting a solid buzz). I too ponder my current life and situation.

I also know now to not drink with someone more depressed than me. Happy hour with a cop who married a psychopath was one of those shit-faced nights.

Tonight my family is planning on having a “drunken game night”. You do shots when you lose a round of any game. Rolling 3’s in Yahtzee, landing on Pay Day in “Life”….for examples of made up punitive drinks.

I am slightly concerned about tonight. I did start only drinking on weekends. That seemed like a good compromise.

So tonight, I think the safest choice is to pour a large glass of Red…and “sip” my punishment shot. Wine is very friendly to me.

I’m proud of my restraint. Last Friday night was a bad one, but I know it had some “reasons” behind it.

I’m also not 25 anymore and cannot slam those drinks down without consequences.

Here’s to getting a little wiser and healthier.

Cheers.

So Far, So…Not-So-Bad

When I had a blog several years ago, I was in the midst of a long slow slide into depression.

A friend suggested writing a blog. I love writing up to a point. I love working with my hands more. I guess it’s the tangible part.

That blog was also “pre-medication”.

I would write about my stress, anger, loneliness, thirst and depression, and then dig deeper to make it darker. For something that was suppose to be healing, it only fueled my descent into madness, self-pity and Hell itself.

After I found the right doctor and medication, and my personal life and marriage almost imploded, I deleted the blog. There was some good stuff in there, but I had to burn it all to the ground to try and heal myself.

Now here I am, still tweaking my meds, settled into a job I actually enjoy and don’t regret going to. I am armed with new coping tools, and I’m working on my marriage still. (Marriage is always work)

So…my life is less chaotic, doesn’t suck as much and now I wish I could get more sleep and my body hurt less.

An Atypical Life

What is a normal life?

Is it one with no early deaths, no divorces, no trauma? No significant emotional events? No life changing challenges and decisions? Quiet, consistent, boring?

What would I have been like without all of those? Would I have this blog? Writing about my perfect little world?

Would I have joined the Military? Would I have years of Hell adjusting to the life after hanging up my uniform? Would my body be so tired and worn out?

My sarcasm and dark humor non-existent?

Would I have turned to find solace in art, music, and especially woodworking?

Would my empathy be less….Worldly?

Speaking of the world, if I didn’t join the Military, my exposure to other cultures and perspective would probably be more….narrow and sheltered?

All of these trials, errors, missteps, defeats, comebacks, rebounds, rescues, redemptions….shaped me for better and for worse.

Like Kirk said in The Final Frontier:

“Damn it, Bones, you’re a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can’t be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They’re the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don’t want my pain taken away. I need my pain.”

Complaining, pondering and writing about what could have been, is pointless, but only if I expect to change what is already done.

I think it’s just a recap to accept what fate has dealt me and to keep moving, to be proud of my scars both internal and external.

Hang on while I over think this.

Exhaustion. Sleep deprivation. Chronic pain. Depression, anxiety, fear, regret.

My current checklist. Probably all directly connected to each other plus some added PTSD, working in a stressful fast-paced environment for months on end….for years on end. Maybe a dash of childhood trauma.

Even when things are quiet, I sit and run through this checklist to see what the current status is.

It’s like glancing down at your gas tank gage frequently. Even though you know you have enough gas.

I sit and ponder how I’m handling something or everything at any given moment.

I remind myself that I blinked and 5 and a half decades just flashed by.

One good thing is that I’m trying to make the half of my life count and be productive. To pay closer attention to little things. To allow myself some peace. (Worth trying and not always successful)

It is exhausting being me. It’s probably why I will never be possessed. The entity would enter, look around and realize “This guy is already in Hell…or screwy”.

What’s particularly funny is that I am calm about something’s others would just curl up and die from. Which is what I do on things they have no issues with. Not a fair trade, but apparently a mental trade off/universal balance.

This mental marathon could also be due to the 3-4 cups of coffee I drink.

Nah….

😉

“Sorry” was never spoken.

In the middle of a weekly get together with Friends. Something sparked a memory or lack of a memory. I think I never heard my parents apologize. For anything.

If anything, not to each other and not to me. I was just a child, the youngest of 5, so I was way down on the food chain.

(I just texted my older sister to she if had any memory of it). While a specific word not being spoken aloud in a home shouldn’t be a big deal….I am starting to wonder if it did leave a hole in my relationships. An important part lacking in my communication skills.

I’ve apologized to the outside world in my day-to-day interactions. But I know it’s hard to say those words under my own roof. My Father and I had an arm’s-length relationship as he got older. I know he loved me and I loved him. But I know our communication was horrendous at times.

…and now my own spouse and children have to help me still develop that skill and logical communication “flow chart”.

As my doctor helps me navigate how I respond and digest this world, I am looking inwards more and more.

Each time I do pull back my own curtain, I see some crumbs of where I was definitely on the wrong path.

I also realized that none of my siblings or my parents no less, had any normal childhood.

We all had extreme challenges growing up. For my brother and sisters, their biological father died when they were very young.

My Father married the widow and 4 children….and I came into the picture…not specifically “planned”.

And that’s another story.

My sister pointed out to me just now from a 1,000 miles away….that our Mother carried lots of guilt for many things and never knew how to put them into words.

Her final years in the nursing home, they had her on….”Happy Meds”.

I think my biggest discovery is our parents and loved ones aren’t perfect. I’m not perfect, life and love isn’t perfect.

We just need to keep trying.

Apologizing all the way.

Red Flags and an overdue talk

Timing. If you do enough things in a short time period, they could be misinterpreted.

I was unfaithful to my wife a couple times….which I will write about later. There are many layers and reasons for it. Not justifying it…it just happened.

I started working out on the rowing machine….I made an impulsive decision to shave off my beard which I immediately regretted and will grow back. I have a birthday coming up which I have complained about repeatedly. I complain about the chronic pain.

I bought my wife an expensive gift (iPad) for Mother’s Day. (With her input)

Separately, these are not a big deal. Crammed in a few days….however….RED FLAGS.

I need to stretch out and work on my cardio. My blood pressure is better for it. I hate the grey/white in my beard. I just need to color it again. (To match my hair that is holding onto the younger color…)

I wanted to get her something nice and useful for Mothers day.

So…she confronted me (nicely) to ask if something was going on….

I know my cheating will have repercussions for the rest of my life and marriage.

…and I’m doing everything I can to get some sort of absolution.

So we finally had a talk that was way overdue.

I’m not cheating….I love her more than she knows. (If you think I’m a pig and bastard…that’s fine). But I mentally crashed and burned several years ago and was prepared to lose everything and just walk away from everyone.

Sex was the only thing I could “control”. I didn’t have to fake anything, or pretend.

I found someone who just wanted sex too and was either in loveless marriage or just wanted something with no strings attached.

It still doesn’t make it right. But it happened.

So we talked. I pointed out that I feel like she “tolerates” me… she pointed out that I’m “absent” and out of touch with the family.

I pointed out that we haven’t had sex in at least 2 years. (Yep…2 years)

She is self conscious about her weight and that I looked elsewhere for intimacy.

So this all finally came out…..came to a head. To the surface.

…and it went….better than I thought it would.

A strong marriage….an even marriage….needs constant work. Constant give and take. Communication.

Sacrifices. Intimacy. Trust.

Admitting fault….or contributing to any friction and tension.

We talked about moving forward. What was and wasn’t working. What to try more of or less of.

Couples have divorced for way less. Somehow, we have made it to past 30 years.

She knows about my mental struggles after leaving the military. A quick review of all my coworkers who got divorced when they left the military is a good perspective.

At last count: at least 20.

So…either I’m doing something right..or we are extremely stubborn.

Love is sacrifice.

Just make sure you don’t destroy the wrong thing or person.

The Point

I believe in God….most days and sometimes not. I feel like an unsupervised and over-caffeinated toddler left to wander, to bump and to trip over things.

From a non-creation point, atoms combined, and chemical reactions formed and heat and water and….sheer dumb universal luck….we developed and developed and evolved…to the point where we questioned everything, a thirst to learn, a thirst to conquer, to destroy, to love….to create, to survive.

Sometimes I think we peaked and this technology is making us dumber. One of my favorite pretend words: Stoopider.

From a God/Big Bang theory….boom! Here we are. Behave, love your neighbor (not his wife so much…) don’t touch his shit either.

So other than that….live. Honor and worship me….etc etc…give me 10% of your income….cause faith isn’t free…..

I think organized religion tweaked faith….tweaked some laws….added some perks.

I’m tired, emotionally and physically. So at the bottom of my daily ride, I’m iffy on god.

(Lower case g to make a point). But as I recover, feel better, pay attention to the universe….God seems more feasible.

There are some things in my life that can’t be plain dumb luck or timing. Maybe, hopefully someone up there actually listens.

But he (or she) won’t give you all the answers, the cheat codes. The straight and easy path. I’ve been handed something without “sweat equity” and I didn’t appreciate it.

There was no challenge. I’ve used cheat codes in games, and guess what, I quit playing them. There was no point in trying when you knew you would win. That’s why some a called “God Mode”.

As we grow up, we search, explore…but then we run out of “newness”. We wonder what else is there? Maybe this is where you either work with it, or you keep chasing that invisible goal or Holy Grail until you drop dead.

Some of us…me….can’t sit still. Whether it’s in our (mine) DNA, or crammed into our psyche…..to want more.?!?

We never stop asking “Why” as the child, maybe just quieter as adults. We are sometimes okay with just walking away from jobs, life, marriages, relationships, promises…everything.

But to stay, to work at “it”….to endure. That’s living. To actually hold onto unconditional love. To sacrifice for others….that’s existing.

Maybe that’s what God expects from us. Here are some basic rules, make do with them, don’t be a jackass, be kind, help others and stick to your commitments.

Maybe that’s “The Point”.

Better Days

Whether it’s due to laying low, avoiding drama…etc. I’m having better days.

My body still has the aches and pains, but maybe my recent return to the rowing machine is helping. My back is getting the brunt of the load, but I noticed it “feels” less…old.

I had to make a new change playlist: “Rock and Row”. Sounds like something a dad would do.

I read a medical article how years of intense stress can have an impact on your testosterone levels.

I was going full tilt for those last 15 years in my military career. The 9/11 deployments were just “turbo mode”.

Maybe this is one of the missing pieces in my health. Pushing 60 doesn’t help, but I’m going down swinging.