I've committed to adding a doodle to this site every other day. Here's a start. Just an old bic pen and a sketch book. Nothing fancy and nothing time consuming. But it's a start.
A few years ago (let's call it three) my wife and my daughters made a great new friend at camp. They would come home from the Summer with their stories about what they had done, the fun, the laughter and even the stories about tears and I would be just a little jealous; They were getting to meet new people and have these great bonding experiences that I missed out on. It's sort of a childish thought looking back on it. But it was my reality at the time.
At 4:46 a.m. Nick's body was dumped in a shallow grave not far from the Missouri river. His murder had been slow and brutal, but not entirely unexpected by himself. He was used to it by now. By 1:27 p.m. he'd had enough of laying around, and while he usually gave people a little more of a head start, the bugs were crawling in sensitive areas, plus he was quite pissed at his most recent murderers. So he sat up, brushed the dirt and leaves off, straightened up his tattered and bloodied clothes and said "Time for some payback!"
Today has been a mess, punctuated by more mess, and topped with a big messy cherry. Time wasted carting a daughter around to meet friends who didn't show until hours later, hours spent waiting on a take care clinic and getting the right meds for a daughter who possibly has mono (yay), kids who refuse to clean for more than 5 minutes on a single task, crying, a cancelled trip to Chicago for Kat and her mom. Utter chaos.
I'm starting to breath a little. Maybe all the stress of the storm and worrying about other people's LIVES has put things in perspective for me. Maybe I've just finally cracked. Either could be true. But I feel at ease today despite it being the usual hustle and bustle of work and kids and dogs and cats and such. The usual fighting and frustration has been less palpable lately. I feel like I have a partner who's starting to look for compromise more and more often. More and more she's coming back to me after a blow out and rewinding things, making apologies, recognizing fault.
I apologize, because what I did, I did only to hurt you.
I wasn't attempting to heal the hurt I feel you caused me.
I wasn't trying to resolve the issues that I perceived.
I wasn't thinking about getting to a better place.
I wasn't worried about creating lasting peace.
I wasn't focused on reducing any suffering.
I wasn't making an effort to be a friend.
I wasn't intending to enlighten you.
I wasn't walking a happy path.
I was wrapped up in my own pain.
I thought by hurting you I would feel empowered and in control.
I hoped that if I hurt you my own pain would be lessened.
Yet another sleepless night, filled with anxiety dreams that made me wake up and check my phone for messages every 15 minutes. No messages. No hi, no fuck you, no nothing, just more anxiety. UGH!
Nothing quite like that feeling of wanting to help someone and wanting to understand their hurt and being completely shut out and shot down. Especially when they were the ones to throw it out there that things were sucking and then to vanish. I know it's there pain and I'm making it all about me... but I'm a jerk like that I guess. At least that's what I'm told repeatedly. Just a big fat fucking jerk for caring.
Just want one day of relaxation. ONE FREAKING DAY! One day of not having a headache. One day of not fighting. One day of not having a child do something idiotic. One day of not having to deal with anything but my own needs and maybe someone putting me first for a change. But noooooooo! I have work, I have kids to take care of, I have a wife camping, then camping again, then on a trip to Tennessee, then what? Everyone has their own shit and so there's no one I can rely on to talk to or help me through. I just have to suck it up and deal with being alone in this.
