Drowning in debt

I’m drowning…
Like in my own abyss of debt.
I don’t even know when it started to get bad.
I mishandled credit.
I’ve made terrible decisions and got my ass handed to me every single time.
Im disappointed in myself too.
Left several jobs, relied on credit, and recklessly bought things unnecessarily.

I fucked myself.

I can’t even begin to think about paying student loans when I graduate. I’ve put off graduating for years and failed classes. Racked up over 90k in debt and I’m not even 30.

I keep thinking to myself that maybe I’ll catch a check from music or maybe get rich somehow.

Like, “oh I’ll just pay that later.”

Then I think that maybe I could just OD to escape when the time is right.

I know it’s completely psycho and I realize I have issues…

Im honestly just…

Lying to myself.


How to tell 5 year old son why his daddy isn’t around any more?

My precious little boy doesn’t understand why all the other kids have daddies and he does not. How can I tell him what happened? How can I look into his sweet little face and let him know the truth? How can I explain it to him in a way that makes sense to him, when it doesn’t even make sense to me? How can I sit him down and tell him that in the months before he was born, his daddy started wearing a rooster costume every day and insisting that I call him Grappler the rooster? That he made me throw candy corn on the floor so he could pretend to peck it up like Grappler the rooster? That the last thing he ever did was screaming “Grappler loves tidbits!” into my face before he ran off cackling into the woods, never to be seen again?


I can honestly say I don’t do this often. The chances and the intention is for you to never find this. The intention isn’t even for you as much as you would so deeply want it to be. To use it like a news article or sign that in some way, I’m weak or care or even thought of you. Truth is this isn’t even for you. This is for me. Although you are another person in this world; the emotional pain and confusion and selfishness you carried broke my perception of love and what I had hoped for…. And I’m grateful.

Being so torn and confused as to such a beast you had become to the point where your story on your end wanted to continue. You just couldn’t let go, you wanted to see me fail in some childish way. Finally I’m in a place where the thought of you isn’t an emotion. You aren’t a sore spot in my body. You aren’t a regret or wishful thought. You aren’t a desire. You aren’t a question. You are just a memory of what was, what could have been.. and what I never care to revisit. I’m free…

Just to let it out there im even braver than you had met me. I see the silly shit show you had as friends and the veil in which I had once sought you as true love… I see now as an immature human. You wanted to live the life you felt you never had, now you seek contentment and happiness and I know all you hold is sorrow and regret in hopes for someone else to validate your story tales.

I came back braver. I came back with loving myself even more. I came back over time to find what you saw in me was what you wished you had. You couldn’t control me, or stop me. You couldn’t prevent my shine. You couldn’t take me down…. And in the end maybe your work and effort back fired. Maybe the drinks and other ransoms and secrets just couldn’t be held in. I even was shown a dumb ass picture of you someone showed me under some stupid sexual page and I’m not surprised…. You always had a way of; going above and beyond I suppose? Even your friends I had blocked seem to hold this mirror of stupidity to social media as if it’s ok to do this while it was found to be… hilarious.

I can finally say I don’t care. I’m smiling. I’m free. I don’t need anyone or anything. I don’t hold back… I don’t give a shit.

This is for me. Dear self, look back in humor. Look back in self reflection. Remind yourself how you shall continue to move up, be stronger and get more in which you deserve. The past is exactly what it is. The Past. I am proud of your endless courage
And bravery and abilities in which you were vulnerable. But I’m also happy in which you are now at peace with it all.

May more amazing things happen for me. And this is me finally being able to say… goodbye.

And May all that you deserve come to you.

The Reiki healer next door

She calls me the other day to ask I’d I had spotted anything unusual up in my perch that might have led to her broken windshield, I think she suspects the other neighbor lady’s son and while I can’t completely discount the notion, as I’ve seen him bounce around on my car a time or too but I report on this occasion I saw nothing.

She then transitions over into asking if I knew about the previous owner committing suicide in her home. I flashback to a few weeks before when I awaken in the middle of the night to a coughing fit and the sound of singing bowls ringing through the walls at 3 am. I don’t mind the sound, I find it calming but I’m allergic to sage and wonder if it’s bleeding in through the ventilation somewhere. It probably doesn’t matter , I live in a place it lives in abundance anyway.
Fast forward to currently I admit to being very present that somber night and tell her I hope it doesn’t detract from her enjoyment of the space. She kind of laughs in response and says no. Going on to report strange happenings in her abode that she doesn’t feel are malevolent but are significant in proving to her there’s a spirit present. She tells me about a tea cup with yellow roses showing up in places that it shouldn’t and of flickering lights that she called an electrician out to investigate but found no issues with the wiring.
I admit we also have been experiencing the flickering lights despite changing the bulbs and then divulge what I did know of the person that lived there before her.

We end our conversation me vowing to contact the other previous owner about moving his armor work bench for his society of creative anachronism stuff out of the garage this week and planning a ladies night with the girls sometime soon. In thinking on it, I think Sean and April would hit it off splendidly. I suppose I’ll see for myself.

Sorry I’m like this

I have done nothing wrong. You’ve told me so. I know it in my heart. But the thing about trauma is it really doesn’t give a factual shit about who’s a good person trying their best. I keep trying to give you more than 50% because I thought I was such an open book but more and more I’m realizing that I never tell you the things I want to – that I’m hurting and I need you, that I had a fucking awful day and the only thing that helped was your voice.

The thing is, I don’t know how close is too close – not for you, but for me. I don’t know how much it’s ok to rely on another person before I’ve put myself in danger. And even though I know you’d never hurt me, I’m still in this place where being weak for a moment is so intolerable I get a little sick thinking about it. I want to share my real self with you, but I’m so scared there’s nothing worth sharing – that I’ll tell you I feel this stupid twisted sadness more often than not and it’ll be too much to take.

It’s so stupid because you’ve shared things with me no one else in the world knows, and you probably already know the places I go when my mind tries to drown me, but I still feel like I can’t talk to you about it. You of all people! If not you, the. WHO?

No one, I guess. This is not me blaming you at all – I blame me. I wish I could be brave enough to be my true self around you all the time, not just when I’m caught off guard. I just want the real me and the real you to have a life together and I feel like I’m the thing in the way. And how stupid is that? Things are going great! You probably don’t even think anything is the matter. I guess nothing *is*, not anything anyone can do anything about, anyway…

I just hope, one day, I can be brave enough to be as honest with you as you’ve been with me…and for you to not turn away because of it. I don’t know. It’s happened before. The first time I ever fell in love, in fact. I was “too fucking emo”. I’m an adult and I still haven’t gotten over how bad that stung and I’m so fucking angry about it because I want to have normal relationships and talk about it when I’m down, but I feel this stupid crippling shame about BEING DEPRESSED of all things.

Such a rant. What I’m saying is, I’m sorry I can’t be better for you. I’m saying it here because it sounds like an excuse to me, and I wholeheartedly believe you deserve better than that. I just want you to know that I’m trying. My God, I’m trying.

After the snowstorm

My daughter graduated from kindergarten earlier this week, her ceremony taking place the day after some asshole in Texas decided to reenact the star wars kid slaughter scene.
Even though I wanted to just keep her home and skip the ceremony all together, we did it anyway. I think, we will not be intimidated by terrorists. That’s not the whole of it though, I know that happy milestone memories are important anchors against would be devastation and sometimes you just have to work with what you got. So I put on my brave face.

It’s a perfect spring day as we gather on the lawn, a completely different face from earlier in the week. I buy my baby a rose, and cheer with the rest of the parents as the children march out.
The teachers take turns reading a poem about everything you learn in kindergarten including the essentials of cleaning up after yourself to the mortality of all living things, and I’m pretty sure we’re all crying now but the sad tears get a moment for pride as the kids are then called up for their achievement certificates. My kid spotted me almost immediately when she came out and she signs I love you to me from her seat. After she and the others collect their belongings , the kids are released to us for the summer. I take my kid to the Taste of Denmark bakery nearby and we load up on delicious pastries to celebrate.
Meanwhile I keep tabs on the news coming out of Texas, and it’s grim. Law enforcement in tha hallway just waiting for over an hour while the kids are being shot, babies using their friends blood to play dead so the killer will pass them over. I hate this.
In response, DPS passes a multimillion dollar investment towards mental health services and training in schools. While I read , Texas will no longer admit even parents into school buildings unannounced I think to myself well we’ve already been doing that here, our schools lock up tight after a certain time and though this had been a source of frustration to me when I needed to walk to pick up the kid and needed the restroom, I’d rather them be safe than under assault.
My kid likes school , I’ve talked to her about homeschooling without giving her the gorey details, but she wants to continue her campus experience , I understand the value of a good educator to the power of her development and know that she won’t always feel that spark for learning if it comes from just me.
I’ve read that there is a significant amount of data to back a course of action that prevents the loss of life that we’re experiencing daily in our schools, not only in the realm of gun purchase but in schools with psychological support and tutelage, so that when someone feels that impulse towards violence they are better able to navigate their thoughts to walk away from committing the act before it happens.

Vicious cycle / SOML

Over the last few years, I’ve discovered that two things make me genuinely happy. Happier than the booze or bud or endless and needless distractions.

The first is being productive. Weird, right? I lost count of how many jobs I’ve had in my life and yet I so rarely ever felt that way at work I don’t think I ever realized how much better I feel when I am actually getting things done that need to be done even if it’s like some yard work or some similar bullshit. I mean, I’ve been called lazy my whole life, and it’s probably not wrong (though one person, once, in one of the most meaningful compliments I’ve ever received said that I wasn’t lazy I was just bored). But anything you think about me, no matter how negative it may be, that I’ve wasted my life or whatever, believe that I’ve already beat myself up on it many times over.

The second, and probably greater of the two, is conversation. Meaningful conversation with someone I care about. And no, not the ‘well I’ve already talked to him for 5 mins better cut him off now so he’ll keep wanting more bs you probably think we’ve had. You just don’t get it. Like I have so many thoughts, and I formulate my own original opinions, and, I know the truth is nobody really cares. But that shit just festers. And you know, I am eminently reasonable. I freely admit when I’m wrong, or when someone else has an improvement on my idea. The discourse, the transferring of one intelligence to another and vice versa, that’s what I really want!

You, of course, are not responsible for making me happy, even if you could have so very easily with just a little more effort and just a little less of whatever bs social conditioning girls get growing up (most guys get plenty too). I don’t think I’m “special” like you rightfully believe you deserve. But I am certainly different, and different enough that I think you did yourself a disservice by not giving me a fair shake. Deep down I think you know I’m right about that.

Because you know what really drives me crazy? Like absolutely ballistic furious? Seeing all these crushes over the years going for the cool guy, or the rich guy, or the best athlete, or the one with the highest body count, or whoever just generally raises your fucking social profile the highest and, ALWAYS, inevitably becoming disappointed before repeating the same mistakes with someone new (not me though, of course, never me). It’s like, everyone thinks I’m crazy, and i probably am, but ya’ll be the ones out here doing the same shit over and over your entire lives expecting different results, ya know?

And you know what? All those guys you were crushing on and sleeping with instead of me? I know them well. Not specifically, but I do. I was a guy’s guy long before I was a feminist cuck or whatever you want to think of me as. They suck, they really do. They take the attention and sex you give them and it feeds their arrogance that they are being ‘manly’ in the right way and they become more set in their ways, more resistant to any positive change, more willing to believe that not only do they deserve you, shit you were so easy, they probably deserve better. They’re so great after all. And no they won’t ever admit they’re wrong or be amenable to compromise or actually give a fuck when you need someone to listen to you because what they’re doing, what they’ve been doing their whole damn lives, it clearly works, doesn’t it? They’ve never been humbled or had to reevaluate the way they conduct themselves or treat other people. And you just eat that shit up and pretend you love them all the more for all that confidence and swagger and bravado. But wait! It gets even better. Those same despicable caveman values not only exist in perpetuity in the man himself, but then get extended to your kids too! So your son gets to be just as much of a jackass as his father! And 30 years from now I’ll still be alone and he’ll be dating some starlet with 59 bajillion followers.

Anyways, it’s been awhile. I’ve emptied my chamber. Hope the next couple weeks are fantastic for you. I’ll be doing yard work.