Dead

It’s days like today, I wish I was dead.  Gone.  Rendered to the earth and forgotten.  With everything I’m going through, I feel so sad, so lonely, overwhelmed, and exhausted.  Why does life have to be so goddamn hard?!?!?!?!?!  You would think that a 39 year old man would have it all figured out, but I don’t.  I need someone to sit in the mud with me, but alas, I sit alone.

Abduction

Terrible night at work. So, here I am, I’m my garage, getting drunk to try and wash the anxiety away with beer. Then I have to get up and take a piss. I step out the back door, and while I pull my cock and balls out of my banana hammock, I wonder if aliens came down an abducted me, would anyone miss me?

Gone

As she watched him leave

Having given up on his dream

She never could have imagined

It would be the last time

She saw him

Lonely

It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I say that like anyone really cares. I used to believe that the worst part of being lonely was being alone in a room by yourself. But now I see that the worst part of being lonely is being in a room full of people and still looking at them as if they were ghosts.

-Graveyard Night

The Price

What’s the price for being exhausted? How can I make those around me understand that I’m burnt out? After spending 17 years with the same woman, 13 of them being married, and being treated like shit for the majority, I have nothing left to give.

And I’m the one that feels like shit for it.

Because I’m human and because I’m tired, because I’m worn down, I feel like shit. I’m on the edge, and it feels as though there’s nothing I can do about it.

But according to my mom and my wife, I need to be medicated. Yeah, let’s put a gauze pad on a gushing wound.

Just a Thought

A lot of times, I wonder…what good is prayer gonna do? With or without God, my life has led me to this point. The point of not caring, not having any hopes or dreams, the point of just existing, the point of no return. Don’t get me wrong, I pray, but I’m mostly met with silence.

What good is prayer gonna do when I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop? The clock to stop? Is prayer suddenly going to reinvigorate me; breathe new life into me? Oh, this is God’s plan for me, okay!

I’m burnt out; a lost cause incapable of not feeling hopeless. I’m burnt out.

Does anything really happen for a reason, or is life more or less trying to dodge the shit piles along the way?

(Bleep) New Year

I’m not one of these people who waxes useless words to characterize the first day of a new year. I don’t see hopes and dreams coming true; I don’t see new possibilities. I see a new year, the same as the last. I’m sure to those of you who are reading this blog post, that seems a bit morose, but I call them like I see them.

Never on a New Year’s Eve have I brought in the new year in a bar or at a party or fucked some random stranger. I’m sure to some of you, those crowning achievements seem a tad bit mundane, but for a guy like me? I might as well win the lottery.

Just as I didn’t go out of my way to listen to a single Christmas song last year or wish someone Merry Christmas, I’m not wishing anyone a Happy New Year. I don’t have it in me because I don’t believe it for myself.

Fuck it.

I’ll hear of vacations that others are planning to take, and I’ll be exceedingly jealous. Oh, wait. My family does have a vacation planned. We’re going down to Tennessee to see some preacher. Nothing says a fun vacation like being delivered from demons!

My mom says that I need deliverance; says I’m, in a way, possessed. I don’t feel possessed. I feel reality. I feel sad, lethargic, bored, unmotivated. They tell me I should go back to school to get my RN degree. I’m 38 years old! What the fuck is college gonna do for me?

Being married to a woman who has successfully anchored not only herself but me as well to the home and being the father of three autistic kids, I don’t see any great improvements coming. But that’s my life in a nutshell; wanting more out of life and unable to attain it. I’m miserable and living in despair.

But who gives a fuck, right?

I’m wrong for feeling the way I do. As my mom constantly loves to remind me-life could be so much worse. That’s not exactly the greatest thing to say to someone who’s standing on the precipice of self-destruction. In other words, my feelings are invalid.

No hopes. No dreams. No new year’s resolutions.

Faith in Crisis

I find myself questioning my faith a great deal. I have too many questions to fill this post. Maybe I’ll write more about it one day. But if God is a Just God, then why does evil occur in the world? It’s an age old question. And the cliche answer is free will. Sadly, the free will of some affects the lives of others. Why don’t we answer this question with a genuine response:

This world be a fucked up place.

A friend of mine is a victim of domestic violence on a daily basis. She’s also a drug addict. And I love her anyway. But I can’t be with her. She’s been abused and has never been given a chance.

How can God allow this knowing it’s happening on a regular basis? The guy is a waste of oxygen, as all abusers are. But if you kill them, you’re the one going to prison. Even though the world ain’t gonna miss that abuser one fucking bit, someone has to pay the price.

I pray for my friend constantly. And I worry about her even more.

This Is As Good As it Gets

People the world over, theologians and philosophers, have pondered the question: what in the fuck is the meaning of life? I’m sure that for some of them, they didn’t say fuck. But I do. I use the word frequently.

You know, but when one ponders the question, the more elusive the answer becomes. Like a balloon caught in the wind, we’re left looking like a bunch of fucking idiots chasing after the goddamn thing. Mind the sewer drain.

I’m sure that the aforementioned theologians and philosophers have sat on their respective shitters and pondered the question while they grunted. In fact, that’s something I’m about ready to do. Sit on the shitter, not ponder the meaning of life. I don’t give a fuck anymore.

You know, one has to wonder what God was thinking when he created mankind, knowing that Satan was already here. He would have been better off having stuck with the dinosaurs and shit like that. Because, let’s face it, dinosaurs were pretty much mindless creatures. Why he created a race that had the capacity of free will is beyond me.

My mom keeps sending me videos and shit of Pastor Greg Locke and other preachers. She, like most others in my family have the capability to hear, but not listen. I know what my mom is thinking; she’s hoping that by some miracle, I will watch said video, and will be inspired, the ship will be righted, the Titanic doesn’t fuckin sink, so on and so forth.

Let me tell you something about being in a dark place: when you’re in one, there is no light at the end of the tunnel, no light pouring down from the top of the well; it’s cold, it’s dark and you’re all alone. It is a literal hell.

And those who have never been through it will never understand. We are the Walking Wounded. The ones that are passed by in the store aisle, the sidewalk; we are the ones who slip through the cracks. And everyone wonders we kill ourselves.

Right now, I have a little over $226 left in my bank account until next Wednesday. I’ll be broke by Sunday. The last time I really ate something was yesterday (well, it’s yesterday now) morning. And that was a ham sandwich. And I don’t plan on eating anything else. Making sure my wife and sons have food in their bellies is the sacrifice I have to make. Because that’s what you do when you’re a father, isn’t it? You make sacrifices?

Fuck this!

In 1 Peter 5:7, the pretentious apostle wrote to “cast your anxiety upon him because he cares for you.” Well, God can care for you, but it doesn’t mean that you’ll what you want, or even that he will ever answer your prayers. If a child tells their parent “I want this”, “I want that”, does the parent really care? Sometimes they do. Other times they don’t. Sometimes the child can’t get what they want because the parent doesn’t have the money.

With three autistic children, I have a life that no one else wants. Want to know how I know? Because everyone I talk to, family included, tells me they don’t know how I do it; they couldn’t do it. Even the poorest person in the United States would look at my life and say, “fuck this! I’m going back to my cardboard box!”

Truth is, whether with God or without, my life has been the same for as long as I can remember. Spin your wheels a little faster and dig the rut a little deeper. What is it the Bible says about a life without passion? I’m sure it says something.

I have a life that no one else wants and I gave up on hope and life a long, long time ago.

In 2 Corinthians 1, the Apostle Paul wrote: We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself.

I like that scripture. Why? Because it’s genuine, it’s real. Who would have ever thought that the Apostle Paul was suicidal? That the guy who had pretty much wrote the New Testament and was possibly more influential than Christ himself, would reach the end of his rope.

But if I were to talk to a preacher, they would tell me to endure. Because a far greater glory is waiting for me at the end. Endure the depression, the heartbreak, the brokenness, endure the autism, a wife who won’t take care of herself or get a job or take what you say to heart, endure the fact that you barely have enough to make ends meet and you have to go without eating; endure the rut that digs deeper and deeper. While I’m enduring, this dark place keeps getting darker. It’s cold and damp, and I tremble as I feel my way along the moldy brick walls.

It is hell. And this is life.

The Devil

Every time you think you’re smarter than the devil, he proves you wrong.