Monthly Archives: September 2007

Hotline.

Let yourself jump ahead in time,

to the day when you are free

from the pain and sorrow,

and you will look back

on the distant memory

of how you almost died,

but somehow you lived through it.

 

It’s amazing, even suicide prevention lines are automated these days. Imagine, you are desperate, and you hear a recording tell you, all representatives are busy. If you are are having a crisis, please hang up and call 911 or head to the nearest emergency room. Oh, like anyone who wants to crawl in a hole and overdose on barbituates wants to attract that sort of attention.

So, the advice went something like this,

Well, you go to school right?

Yes.

Ok, so find someone you know in your class and strike up a conversation.

 

As if that would change anything, or relieve the pain somehow. Just another disappointment in a long line of disappointments. And all I can think about is Gene Wilder.

“You get nothing, you lose, good day sir.”

Diary?

Today it dawned on me.

I am failing out of school.  As if my life was not enough in shambles, even my abilities as a scholar have failed me.  I keep repeating that I will not quit.  I will not quit, I will not quit, I will not quit.

Algebra may in fact be the death of me.

Well no, I cannot lay all the blame on poor algebra.  I bombed my last quiz, and today, I am fairly certain, barring a miracle that I have no belief in, that I have bombed my first psychology of gender test.

Except for those two boys, I will soon have very little to live for.  And even they seem to be fading fast in my mind.  A long talk with the sitter today pretty much confirmed much of what I already thought for some time now.  I know I would rather not be around to see the damage being done to them now take its toll, and it apparently already is.

There have been a few happy moments, but for the most part, I can say that the last decade or so has been largely sad, and full of strife.  The part that leaves me devoid of hope is that there does not seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel that I can see.  I suppose decade is a bit long, perhaps eight years would be more accurate.  One disappointment after the next.  Interspersed with a few bright moments, too few, and too far in between.

And now it is just dark.

No one is looking at this, and that is just as well.  It is going to be a long, lonely weekend.  That suits me just fine, as I have no plans, and no desire to see anyone at all.

Dear Diary, today I considered not just quitting school, but quitting my entire life.  It really has not gone as planned, and seems to be getting more and more unbearable by the day.  Where as before I could not sleep, now all I want to do is sleep.  This has gotten so bad diary, that my short nap yesterday resulted in me waking up groggy and incoherent close to 7pm, meaning I missed my research class.  My co-workers have taken to calling me ‘zombie’, and I now find myself on the verge of tears at any given moment.  A classmate yesterday described me as ‘menstrual’.  I had hoped this would improve with time, and perhaps it will.  Maybe diary, it is one of those, ‘get worse, before it gets better’ things.  Or maybe not.  I will soon be receiving a fair amount of money, with which I had planned to save, and pay some bills with.  I am considering taking it, and maybe leaving instead.  I have a good month to decide this at least, so, should things not improve, that will be what happens.  I think what I am trying to say diary, is that I am at my wits end.  Seeing that failing score drove me as close to the edge as I think I have ever been.  In a week of heartbreak, and terrible disappointment, this was perhaps the most disappointing of all.  I have grown accustomed to others letting me down, and taking me for granted, but this was different.  I failed myself in a more direct fashion.  Right there, in large numbers, in red ink.  I took my own abilities for granted, and I let myself down.  There are few things that bring a person lower than the realization that, you are not good enough.  Not good enough for someone else, not good enough for school, not good enough for your children.  My sigh is no longer a sigh, but a sort of half sob, because it comes out quickly in staccato.  It is the breathy stutter of grief.   Lacking any real conviction, or any real exit plan, I can only sit here and scream a virtual text-laden scream.  I keep telling myself I cannot quit, but my words carry no weight.  I try to remember the other times in my life where I quit on myself, for motivation.  It has had the opposite effect however, becoming a lifetime of little failures that have led to this monumental collapse.  The movie reel of gradual self-destruction.  Soon I will be able to convince myself that there is nothing tying me to this place.  There are a few individuals with kind words, and advice, and encouragement.  But not many anymore, and that is just as well, as soon as I am finished alienating those few, then there will be no one left.  I saw something today that made me think.  Cars were slowly swerving around something in the street ahead of me as I drove, so I slowed down a little before so I could see what it was, and swerve around it myself.  It was a seagull.  A badly injured seagull standing in the middle of merrick road in heavy traffic.  I swerved around it instinctively, and looked in my rear-view just in time to see the SUV behind me nail it head on, and end its miserable existence in spectacular fashion.  It died in an explosion of blood and feathers, and the car did not even slow down.  I did however.  I changed lanes and took a last look at its flattened dead body.  At first I was angry at the SUV driver.  First of all, SUV drivers are resource wasting road hazards, and secondly, I felt sorry for the poor bird.  It then suddenly dawned on me that perhaps it was not cruelty at all, but mercy.  That bird had nothing left but suffering, and in one clean smash, its suffering was abated.  I sympathized with the poor bird, but I was glad that it did not have to suffer any further.  Sometimes dying is okay.  That bird that once soared majestically was reduced to a quivering wreck in the middle of a road, overwhelmed and hurting badly.  There is no dignity in that.  People are like that too.  For some, there is redemption.  But some of us are slowly walking out of the cars paths, too tired, and too hurt to find their way back to the sidewalk.  And too injured to fly again even if we by chance stumbled onto safe ground.  For those, there is no disgrace in calling it a day.  Facing down that SUV bravely, choosing their own way, and punching their own ticket.  I learned more in the few seconds I watched that brave animal, than from anything else I have seen in my entire life.  So I will futilely attempt more wretched polynomials diary, and then sleep.  I am tired, again.  Tomorrow I will awake in a fog, work with a hole in my chest, and then go home.  Mostly likely I will sleep, try to smile and play with my boys, and then sleep again.  This is not much of a life.

Might as well address this for what it is now.

Stepping past the line.

I remember in high school, during wrestling practice, we would routinely battle dehydration, and suffer 3 hour workouts in temperatures that sometimes exceeded 100 degrees.  For those of us who sucked weight, it was almost a death sentence more than once.  This is no exaggeration, as several young men did die the year after, and several more in the following years by doing the exact same idiotic things we did.

 During these practices, we would occasionally fall down, collapsed from heat exhaustion.  Our coach(es), would stand over us and usually yell something like, “you give one hundred percent while you are in this room, or you get the hell out of it!”  At that point we would drag our dangerously dehydrated bodies off the mat, and continue doing suicides, or whatever torture was on tap for that day.  One could argue that perhaps this approach was unreasonable, and excessive.  Perhaps it was.

But that was what was expected of us, and we gave it.  Most of us anyway.  Those of us with enough pride in ourselves to fight through, and “eat bitter”, and want to win.  This is what has been missing from my life as of late. 

I have forgotten how to suffer.  And by doing so, I have allowed people who do not deserve a place in my life, to have one, and furthermore, affect me enough to disrupt it. 

So, just like that room, my life requires one hundred percent.  You say you love me?  Ok, that requires one hundred percent.  If you are not willing, or able to give one hundred percent then the solution is very simple, get out of the room.  Wanting, or needing to be single, or divorced, is not one hundred percent.  Just like those coaches, and that team, deserved athletes who were only going to give their all, I deserve someones all too.  I will give my all, and that is what I should get in return.  This is not about petty anger, this is about self-respect.  I know I am good enough to get that, so to continue entertaining false proclamations is uncalled for.

I got so depressed yesterday, and considered throwing in the towel.  And then after a short conversation with Antonio at the babysitter I knew I could not.  He cried on the phone to me, and actually said, “I miss you so much daddy.”  He had never said anything like that to me before, for the first time, I felt like he really needed me.  I listened to him cry, and cried at my desk, telling him over and over that I would have a great weekend with him, and we would have lots of fun.  And he said over and over how much he missed me, and loved me.

That was suffering like I had never felt.  There is nothing that will ever hurt as much as knowing they need me, and not being able to be there for them.  Nothing, or no one.

This hurts more than I can accurately describe using words, all of it.  But like the song says, “one day I’ll wake up and it won’t hurt anymore.”  Or maybe I won’t wake up at all, either way, this has to end sometime.

Sites like myspace and facebook have become potential stroke risks, so in order to avoid brain hemmorage, I have decided to avoid them altogether.

Anyone who does actually read this will laugh and say, no, you can’t just not go on.  Or, you can’t just not talk to certain people,

I urge those concerned parties to remember, I have gone weeks without eating, and days without water.  While surrounded by food and drink, and even worse, people consuming food and drink.  I have ignored my own sense of self-preservation for the sake of sport.  I think I can safely stay off troublesome internet sites for a long while without suffering too much harm.

I have become soft, and yielding, and weak.  I despise myself for it.  Those who wish to hurt me, or toy with my emotions have another thing coming. 

I’m getting off the mat.

No Complaints.

I have no one, I have nothing,
Things I made so quickly gone,
Alone at last, I find myself,
With all the things I left behind,

Memories are all I have,
Of times when I could hold my joy,
The only thing that made me smile,
When I saw my baby boy,

Gone, it goes,
It goes bye, bye,
I wish it were not so, all the time,

Leaving me, it’s leaving me,
And I can’t make it stop at all,
It won’t stop,
It won’t stay,

Because nothing stays,
But that’s ok,

I won’t complain.

Sin Fuerza.

Sin fuerza

Esta vez me voy por cierto.
Ya no queda duda en mi,
El miedo hacen las mentiras,
Y lleno, tan lleno ya estoy.

Te miro y se caen las lagrimas,
No los limpio,
Dejando que me limpien adentro,
Lavando la pena de mi cuerpo,

Poco a poco te dejo detras,
Una parte de mi todavia gritando,
Te amo, te amo,
La voz baja, y poco a poco, mas suave,

Y se pasa tiempo, bajando,
Mas, y mas, y mas,
Hasta que, un dia, no se oiye,

Adonde fuiste, mi amor,
Que mi voz ya no te toca?
Y tu cara no me mata,
Te olvidaste, de nunca olvidarte,

Y asi me olvide tambien,
Nada mas, queda lastima,
Y el eco, ya sin fuerza,
Te amo, te amo, te amo.

Y no para siempre,
El regalo que me has dado,
Dolor sin parar,
Amor sin querer.

Me quedo sin fuerza,
Me quedo sin ti.