Tuesday, September 30, 2014
What about the drama from your momma?
I have officially been 30 years old for 2 weeks now, and while I don't feel physically different, I fear that I am becoming more aware of certain unpleasant aspects of relationships I have been a part of my whole life. I've developed a habit, immediately following any of my well formed plans crashing and burning at my feet, of saying "Well I had this vision, right?" This applies to my married life as well. That is not to say my marriage is crashing and burning, oh no far from it, but the reactions to me being married are whats getting to me. Two weeks from now I will celebrate my seventh wedding anniversary. In that time I have purchased two different houses, created a daughter and been promoted two times in my job. The second promotion actually takes effect on October 13th. With that picture, you could safely say I have done well for myself. If I wanted to be modest, my efforts are passable. I pray for and receive my daily bread. I have what I need, and know better than to try living beyond my means, that is irresponsible and, in my opinion, dumb. I cannot afford to be dumb when the life of two other people hang in the balance.
I have blogged before about my happiness being derived from helping others or making others happy. The easiest and most natural way for me to accomplish this is to feed people. Honestly, have you ever seen an unhappy person who's just finished a plate of chow? I cannot say that I have. With the exception of my wife and daughter there are two people I want to make happy more than anything, my parents, but they choose to make that task as difficult as possible. Since I have been married there have been highs and lows, and fights and apologies, as with any marriage. My wife and I have learned from our mistakes and, for the most part, become better people and a better team because of it. Well I had this vision, right? two people bringing together their families and forming one big family who share things and understand each other, and are there for each other in times of trouble. As I mentioned above, this vision crashed and burned. Our families have difficulty being in the same room with each other. My parents cite "they're just too different" as their excuse. My in laws try, I have seen them, but what is the point of putting forth effort that is never reciprocated? The result is a very complicated and overbooked holiday season.
I come from a generation that has a saying "Save the drama for your momma" because no one else cares. But how am I supposed to respond when the drama is coming from my momma? I don't want my wife and daughter exposed to it, because its not their fault, or problem to bear, but I am also unable to change two people who have been doing this for 55 years. This is where recognizing unpleasant aspects of lifelong relationships is coming into the equation. My parents have committed acts of irresponsible and disrespectful nature toward my wife and I. The very same things they taught me NOT TO DO when I lived under their roof. I'm not trying to be dramatic here, and my parents have not devolved into monsters. Its simple things, like not being able to give me a straight answer to a simple, closed ended question, not being somewhere when they said they would be, and worse, not having a cell phone to contact them. Any of those things would have gotten me in deep shit 10 years ago. That's irresponsible, I would have been told. We worry about you, and one day you'll understand. They were absolutely right! But what is my recourse now? To lecture my parents on what they already know? It is not the job of the apprentice to teach the master. Do I call them out for being hypocrites? Do I even have it in me to accept that I was raised in a "Do as I say not as I do" family environment?
I suppose the bottom line in all this is that I am having to grapple with my parents not being the great and infallible entities I always thought they were. They are clearly guilty of many of the shortcomings they drilled me never to do. With this information coming into focus, how do I proceed? I want to respect my parents, but as a man, husband and father myself, I expect theirs equally. If they cannot give me what I feel is earned, then what is my incentive to return in kind? I have long wanted to make my parents proud of me in my accomplishments and successes. I saw it as my way of thanking them for teaching me, and raising me to have work ethic, and determination to see a job through to the end. Another unfortunate aspect of my relationship with them seems to be apathy toward my hard work. Again, without incentive of someone else being happy (my wife, daughter, mom and dad topping that list) why should I push on? What is the point of giving my all if those I want to share my accomplishments with don't really care?
I do not want to accept that my parents are lonely and quietly angry people. That cannot be the truth of it. They taught me everything right, they showed me love, compassion and discipline. An apathetic person wouldn't value these things as traits, and yet I have them. Did my getting married cause some rift in my relationship with my parents? Its too late to repair that now. I am 7 years invested into my married life. I am not going to derail that train to appease my parents. At this point I wonder if they can be appeased by anything that I do. Being an adult seems to become more difficult with each passing year, even if you don't do anything to make it so.
Until we meet again...
Chase
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Wandering thoughts
I've been away for a while, but such is the way of things in the summer. Having a new house gives me no end of projects to direct my energy toward. I would rather be elbow deep in that, than staring blankly at this screen, but 40 hours a week depends on these screens so here I sit. My last update had to do with balancing everyone's happiness over my own. My own happiness being dependent on my ability to please everyone else. It feels like a lot has happened since then. The stress of home buying has settled down, and I can sleep through a night without dreams of the purchase falling through. I have resumed a normal routine: get up, go to work, come home, work a project, make dinner, shower, bed...and repeat. This is the rhythm that keeps me sane, and probably will for the next 40-50 years, God willing.
As a reward for surviving the stress of moving between March and May, the wife and I planned a trip to Myrtle Beach to get away and unwind. There are 2 things I have learned over the past 30 years when it comes to vacations: 1) You get a better insight into yourself when removed from the safety and familiarity of your daily routine, and 2) This applies to anyone who goes with you. We set out on the evening of May 27th and were gone until June 1st. All told, a good time was had and the stress of the past 10 weeks forgotten in short order. My daughter experienced land's end for the 1st time. We built sand castles, which she demolished shortly after. I watched her take on the Atlantic with no fear, squealing and laughing all the time. We ate our weight in seafood, enjoying all the Grand Strand had to offer every night. For some this could be considered paradise, perfection even, and by all accounts I should agree; as the vacation wore on, however, the shine wore off, and my mind wandered in the vacuum where day to day responsibilities and routine were put on hold
As of late, say the last 6 months, I have learned my two biggest weaknesses are fatigue and hunger. The heavier either of them weigh on me, the grumpier I become to those around me. Pair them together, and I feel down right ill. This was my situation the last 2 nights of our trip. Looking back on these episodes, I can say now that I interpreted the world around me differently as well. For example, a dinner table including my wife, daughter, and in laws did not appear to me as a group of people cutting up and having fun. What I saw was a working family unit, that didn't include me...Didn't NEED me. I was the odd shaped cog that didn't sit right with the group I was a part of. I felt like the scene would continue uninterrupted if I was erased from the picture. My daughter had her place, she fit...hell, she powered the machine with her smile, and laugh, but what did I contribute? My sister in law had half jokingly said, soon after my daughter was born, "You've done your job, you can go now." 17 months later, and joke or not, I remember that phrase clear as crystal. Sitting around the table the night of May 30th, it rang inside my skull loud as cathedral bells: YOU CAN GO NOW...YOU'RE NOT NEEDED.
The following day my mood was visibly impacted. While my thoughts and feelings were no longer affected by hunger or exhaustion, my skewed view of the prior evening had left its mark. My wife had seen this before in other vacations we had taken with her family. I'd reached a point where she seemed more like their daughter and less like my wife. She has told me on prior occasions I am choosing to feel that way, and it is not true. I hear her words, and I want to believe them, but the picture of the working family machine, and my being the odd piece out remains. Add my daughter to the equation and everything my in laws do seems like an attack on my ability to be a dad. So now I am not only a 2nd rate husband, I am a 2nd rate father as well. I isolate myself, I don't want to be included. I don't want to be a part of THEIR family. I want my wife, and my daughter...I want MY family, but that's not the point of taking a joint vacation, now is it?
The argument ensues that night as it has every time we have gone on vacation together. She is upset that I can't see how wrong my viewpoint is and that if I tried to include myself it would all work out. "Is this how it's going to be every time we take a family vacation?" she asks, half crying, half fed up with me, "because if so, I don't want to do it again." I can't tell her that trying to include myself won't work. I can't say that I want no part of her family, that I want her, and my daughter, and NO ONE ELSE. It's too selfish, too hurtful, and in that moment it would be spat from my mouth with malice and intention to cut deep. I retain control, I don't say it. I stare off, unable to meet my wife's eyes. I am mad, I am upset and there is no way for me to impress on her how this feels. She will never be unneeded, a child always needs their mother. I lie on the bed, my daughter asleep on my arm, and I think while my wife gets ready to lie down, herself.
In the dark and quiet of our 12th story resort room, my thoughts return to feelings of not being needed. Those are followed by anger at my in laws for being right there, leaving me no cause to engage my daughter because they already have whatever she may need well in hand. I am not needed, I am superfluous. 12 stories up... I am unneeded, but I remain. Life would continue without pause if I ceased to be a part of it. 12th story balcony... A wicked smile spreads across my face. What would stop me from sliding that plastic patio end table to the side of the balcony, stepping up so I could sit on the mottled brass rail, and then rolling back into the dark? My wife is in the bathroom. It would be so quick and quiet, no one would miss me. Would they even register I was gone at first? In my mind these thoughts formed a black tar that coated everything. I looked at my daughter, less than a foot away and didn't feel fear, or remorse for what I was considering. I saw it as an opportunity to remove an unneeded piece from the game. I had concluded it would keep playing out whether I took my turn or not, so what was the point? It would be so easy, 90 seconds at the most, and I would never have to feel unneeded again. Never feel again. It would be so easy...
I sat bolt upright in bed as if I'd been shocked, and just above a whisper I said, "These are not my thoughts. I don't think this way. These are not mine. JESUS CHRIST HELP ME. Lord rebuke you, Satan. Get behind me! The image of tar in my mind was cut through with a shaft of light, and I felt that I had recovered my senses. My breathing eased, I hadn't even noticed it was labored moments before. I prayed for forgiveness, and mercy for what I had just planned and was on the verge of executing. I felt worthless, but not for trivial reasons. I was ready to punch my own card, to give up. That is not an option, nothing is ever easy, not for me, but that is the road I walk. If it is easy, really truly easy, then it is not something I am meant to be a part of. My Father in heaven started my work day on a muggy September 17th. He gets to say when the day is done.
Until we meet again
-Chase
As a reward for surviving the stress of moving between March and May, the wife and I planned a trip to Myrtle Beach to get away and unwind. There are 2 things I have learned over the past 30 years when it comes to vacations: 1) You get a better insight into yourself when removed from the safety and familiarity of your daily routine, and 2) This applies to anyone who goes with you. We set out on the evening of May 27th and were gone until June 1st. All told, a good time was had and the stress of the past 10 weeks forgotten in short order. My daughter experienced land's end for the 1st time. We built sand castles, which she demolished shortly after. I watched her take on the Atlantic with no fear, squealing and laughing all the time. We ate our weight in seafood, enjoying all the Grand Strand had to offer every night. For some this could be considered paradise, perfection even, and by all accounts I should agree; as the vacation wore on, however, the shine wore off, and my mind wandered in the vacuum where day to day responsibilities and routine were put on hold
As of late, say the last 6 months, I have learned my two biggest weaknesses are fatigue and hunger. The heavier either of them weigh on me, the grumpier I become to those around me. Pair them together, and I feel down right ill. This was my situation the last 2 nights of our trip. Looking back on these episodes, I can say now that I interpreted the world around me differently as well. For example, a dinner table including my wife, daughter, and in laws did not appear to me as a group of people cutting up and having fun. What I saw was a working family unit, that didn't include me...Didn't NEED me. I was the odd shaped cog that didn't sit right with the group I was a part of. I felt like the scene would continue uninterrupted if I was erased from the picture. My daughter had her place, she fit...hell, she powered the machine with her smile, and laugh, but what did I contribute? My sister in law had half jokingly said, soon after my daughter was born, "You've done your job, you can go now." 17 months later, and joke or not, I remember that phrase clear as crystal. Sitting around the table the night of May 30th, it rang inside my skull loud as cathedral bells: YOU CAN GO NOW...YOU'RE NOT NEEDED.
The following day my mood was visibly impacted. While my thoughts and feelings were no longer affected by hunger or exhaustion, my skewed view of the prior evening had left its mark. My wife had seen this before in other vacations we had taken with her family. I'd reached a point where she seemed more like their daughter and less like my wife. She has told me on prior occasions I am choosing to feel that way, and it is not true. I hear her words, and I want to believe them, but the picture of the working family machine, and my being the odd piece out remains. Add my daughter to the equation and everything my in laws do seems like an attack on my ability to be a dad. So now I am not only a 2nd rate husband, I am a 2nd rate father as well. I isolate myself, I don't want to be included. I don't want to be a part of THEIR family. I want my wife, and my daughter...I want MY family, but that's not the point of taking a joint vacation, now is it?
The argument ensues that night as it has every time we have gone on vacation together. She is upset that I can't see how wrong my viewpoint is and that if I tried to include myself it would all work out. "Is this how it's going to be every time we take a family vacation?" she asks, half crying, half fed up with me, "because if so, I don't want to do it again." I can't tell her that trying to include myself won't work. I can't say that I want no part of her family, that I want her, and my daughter, and NO ONE ELSE. It's too selfish, too hurtful, and in that moment it would be spat from my mouth with malice and intention to cut deep. I retain control, I don't say it. I stare off, unable to meet my wife's eyes. I am mad, I am upset and there is no way for me to impress on her how this feels. She will never be unneeded, a child always needs their mother. I lie on the bed, my daughter asleep on my arm, and I think while my wife gets ready to lie down, herself.
In the dark and quiet of our 12th story resort room, my thoughts return to feelings of not being needed. Those are followed by anger at my in laws for being right there, leaving me no cause to engage my daughter because they already have whatever she may need well in hand. I am not needed, I am superfluous. 12 stories up... I am unneeded, but I remain. Life would continue without pause if I ceased to be a part of it. 12th story balcony... A wicked smile spreads across my face. What would stop me from sliding that plastic patio end table to the side of the balcony, stepping up so I could sit on the mottled brass rail, and then rolling back into the dark? My wife is in the bathroom. It would be so quick and quiet, no one would miss me. Would they even register I was gone at first? In my mind these thoughts formed a black tar that coated everything. I looked at my daughter, less than a foot away and didn't feel fear, or remorse for what I was considering. I saw it as an opportunity to remove an unneeded piece from the game. I had concluded it would keep playing out whether I took my turn or not, so what was the point? It would be so easy, 90 seconds at the most, and I would never have to feel unneeded again. Never feel again. It would be so easy...
I sat bolt upright in bed as if I'd been shocked, and just above a whisper I said, "These are not my thoughts. I don't think this way. These are not mine. JESUS CHRIST HELP ME. Lord rebuke you, Satan. Get behind me! The image of tar in my mind was cut through with a shaft of light, and I felt that I had recovered my senses. My breathing eased, I hadn't even noticed it was labored moments before. I prayed for forgiveness, and mercy for what I had just planned and was on the verge of executing. I felt worthless, but not for trivial reasons. I was ready to punch my own card, to give up. That is not an option, nothing is ever easy, not for me, but that is the road I walk. If it is easy, really truly easy, then it is not something I am meant to be a part of. My Father in heaven started my work day on a muggy September 17th. He gets to say when the day is done.
Until we meet again
-Chase
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Balancing act
Quick show of hands from all my married friends, are holidays ever easy? I feel like a juggler trying to keep 3 pins moving while off balance, with my eyes closed. I sit here looking at all the people going on about their mothers and the sparkly sign GIF's proclaiming HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY all over facebook. I debated posting a picture like everyone else, but then remembered I have very few. My mom has become adept at dodging cameras over the years, and with that in mind I concluded she wouldn't appreciate my posting one of the few I do have. It feels the same every holiday: Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Mothers/Fathers Day, Arbor Day, Armed Forces Day, it doesn't matter. I will be juggling 3 pins trying to keep my wife, my wife's family, and my parents happy. Placing the happiness of others before yourself makes it very difficult to find a genuine smile. Does prizing your own happiness over those around you not make you self centered? I'm not self centered, so I don't do that. The older I get, the more difficult real happiness is to find. Pouring my energy into everyone else's happiness becomes the norm.
I am not an asshole, nor am I callous and inconsiderate of others. Yet, by comparison, it seems to me those who choose this path of human interaction are happier than I allow myself to be. Have I gotten the equation wrong, should I be self centered and to hell with everyone else who isn't on the same page as I am? That looks like a volatile lifestyle, if you ask me. I derive happiness by making others happy. Feeding my friends is one of the primary avenues I employ to reach that end. If someone needs for something, or asks to do something, I take joy in being the one who makes it happen. Though I am usually not the one doing the asking. Does that make me wrong?
To any fans of Terry Goodkind, and the Sword of Truth series, wizard's 2nd rule applies to me. The best intentions can give rise to the most catastrophic outcomes. I can't see the future, I've never boasted that I could. I can't know how spending an afternoon with my mother will impact the rest of my family. My brain breaks it down to "you are doing something loving/good/ kind for someone you love. This is the right course" I find out later that in so doing I have offended, or irritated, or forgotten about someone else, and that causes mental and emotional conflict all over the map. I cannot rationalize how doing good is resulting in my being in trouble. I did nothing wrong, I made one person happy, that should not, in turn, make another person mad. Why am I wrong? How am I wrong? How is making someone happy wrong? This is a question that doesn't get answered, but boiled down to me not understanding. So ultimately I punish myself while the person I made mad remains mad at me. Making someone happy is then equated to my being in trouble, and getting punished. It isn't right, it isn't fair, it just is.
With that in mind, it could said that I have a perfectly good reason to be a callous dick. I was told earlier in my marriage that as an adult no one was there to punish me anymore. (barring breaking the law, of course) If I burn dinner, or forget to lock up, or leave the pantry light on all day, no one is there to berate me or impress upon me the importance of not doing that again. So I took on the responsibility myself. It isn't my wife's job, she told me. Though she has no qualms punishing me for when she feels wronged by something I did or said. Remember I am not yet a callous dick so these outcomes are born from my best intentions. (You see a cycle forming yet?) What prevents me from catching that initial onslaught of verbal/emotional punishment and firing back with, I made my decision, you need to deal with it however you need to deal with it?" or "This problem is your problem." 1st of all, because I love her and I care about her opinion foremost. If she hurts, I hurt. 2nd, she can always word her argument to somehow convince my brain that the thing I did/said that I thought was good, was actually bad. There is no way for me to undo, or unsay what has happened so I then have to live with the aftermath.
It seems to me that if I put myself 1st and said to hell with everyone else and their opinions, a good bit of this complication would cease to be; but I know acting that way would cause those I love to respond in kind and eventually either: a) we would all be dicks to one another, or b) I would be a very lonely individual. I do not look forward to either of those outcomes, but I am equally dissatisfied with my current situation. I refuse to accept that my acting to the happiness of one person should result, for any reason, in the angering of another. I have done right, so why is it so difficult to ignore the good that was done, and focus on how you were wronged by me? The result of which is trying to persuade me that my actions were wrong from the start. In my opinion they weren't and it isn't fair for anyone to try and convince me otherwise. I need to discover how to support my actions in such a way as to not be convinced of wrongdoing; I need to balance bringing myself happiness without it costing me compassion for others, and I got about 40 years to pull this off. Wish me luck.
I am not an asshole, nor am I callous and inconsiderate of others. Yet, by comparison, it seems to me those who choose this path of human interaction are happier than I allow myself to be. Have I gotten the equation wrong, should I be self centered and to hell with everyone else who isn't on the same page as I am? That looks like a volatile lifestyle, if you ask me. I derive happiness by making others happy. Feeding my friends is one of the primary avenues I employ to reach that end. If someone needs for something, or asks to do something, I take joy in being the one who makes it happen. Though I am usually not the one doing the asking. Does that make me wrong?
To any fans of Terry Goodkind, and the Sword of Truth series, wizard's 2nd rule applies to me. The best intentions can give rise to the most catastrophic outcomes. I can't see the future, I've never boasted that I could. I can't know how spending an afternoon with my mother will impact the rest of my family. My brain breaks it down to "you are doing something loving/good/ kind for someone you love. This is the right course" I find out later that in so doing I have offended, or irritated, or forgotten about someone else, and that causes mental and emotional conflict all over the map. I cannot rationalize how doing good is resulting in my being in trouble. I did nothing wrong, I made one person happy, that should not, in turn, make another person mad. Why am I wrong? How am I wrong? How is making someone happy wrong? This is a question that doesn't get answered, but boiled down to me not understanding. So ultimately I punish myself while the person I made mad remains mad at me. Making someone happy is then equated to my being in trouble, and getting punished. It isn't right, it isn't fair, it just is.
With that in mind, it could said that I have a perfectly good reason to be a callous dick. I was told earlier in my marriage that as an adult no one was there to punish me anymore. (barring breaking the law, of course) If I burn dinner, or forget to lock up, or leave the pantry light on all day, no one is there to berate me or impress upon me the importance of not doing that again. So I took on the responsibility myself. It isn't my wife's job, she told me. Though she has no qualms punishing me for when she feels wronged by something I did or said. Remember I am not yet a callous dick so these outcomes are born from my best intentions. (You see a cycle forming yet?) What prevents me from catching that initial onslaught of verbal/emotional punishment and firing back with, I made my decision, you need to deal with it however you need to deal with it?" or "This problem is your problem." 1st of all, because I love her and I care about her opinion foremost. If she hurts, I hurt. 2nd, she can always word her argument to somehow convince my brain that the thing I did/said that I thought was good, was actually bad. There is no way for me to undo, or unsay what has happened so I then have to live with the aftermath.
It seems to me that if I put myself 1st and said to hell with everyone else and their opinions, a good bit of this complication would cease to be; but I know acting that way would cause those I love to respond in kind and eventually either: a) we would all be dicks to one another, or b) I would be a very lonely individual. I do not look forward to either of those outcomes, but I am equally dissatisfied with my current situation. I refuse to accept that my acting to the happiness of one person should result, for any reason, in the angering of another. I have done right, so why is it so difficult to ignore the good that was done, and focus on how you were wronged by me? The result of which is trying to persuade me that my actions were wrong from the start. In my opinion they weren't and it isn't fair for anyone to try and convince me otherwise. I need to discover how to support my actions in such a way as to not be convinced of wrongdoing; I need to balance bringing myself happiness without it costing me compassion for others, and I got about 40 years to pull this off. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I've had enough, but its not through yet
Wake up at 6:35a, go to work and maintain a persistent nagging mindset there there is more to do than you have time for. More important things to do than sit in this chair and be a tech therapist for the next 9 hours. You should be packing, 3 days left and you're no where near through yet. You begin noticing mistakes and oversights you've made. Your co-workers have to clean up one failure after another. They have to come behind you because you can't do it yourself. You're not a good tech, you're a mediocre tech who others have to help. You have to live this for 8 more hours, more Indians, and Romanians and Filipinos. More mistakes, more escalations to other people because you can't do it, and the few you actually get through, who cares? A glimpse of a lucky call before you trip and foul up again.
You have said "I'm sorry for the inconvenience" or "I'm sorry I don't know that" dozens of times and its not even lunch hour yet. You hate telling people that. It is your polite code for I failed you, and there's nothing I can do about it. So many times, so many people you can't help. Why the hell are you still wasting time in this chair? People need you and you fall short over and over again. What is the point?
You sit in traffic for 40 minutes to find your way home and you apologize to your wife, who pulls in just behind you. You should have been home before now, should have been packing already, but all you can say is "sorry I'm late, traffic was bad." You fill another box in the ever growing mountain of cardboard. Your house is a mess, a disgrace, and there is nothing you can do about it. You haven't dusted, vacuumed or swept in over 3 weeks and it's diving you crazy. Way to fail at one of the things that brings you happiness. You keep packing, and put dinner on. There are no plates or silver...of course not, they're PACKED. You were supposed to find the paper plates and plastic forks, but you didn't do that either. You failed again, and this time it breaks you. One job Chase, you had 1 fucking job and you couldn't do it.
There is no tier 2, there is no helpdesk for me to call with my troubles. No one should care about my troubles because they're mine. I made them, and I have to deal with them. I don't get to call an 800 # and have some voice magic my problems away. Why have I chosen to be that guy? Why have I chosen to be that voice? I am tired of people and their problems. I am so extremely tired. I don't want to play this game of repetition anymore, but I have no choice. I have to have money so I work. As I sit here my daughter calls "Da-da?" up the stairs until my wife comes to her and helps. "Your daughter is calling you." she says. I know, as I stare through watery, tear filled eyes at these words I'm typing, I KNOW THAT! I scream inside my head. She doesn't need to see me, or hear me like this. I have lost the fight. Too much stacked against me for one day and I have LOST.
Simple things like finding paper plates and plastic forks loom like towers over me. You can't do it. I know I can't. Comments from my wife and squeaks from my daughter for attention because she just wants a hug are blocked out. I don't want to hear them, why don't they understand I am a failure? Why don't they turn their backs and leave me alone? I don't deserve love, I haven't earned love. What I have done is shown just another thing that I can fall short at, and the 2 people I care most about were front row, center for the show. Despair and self loathing consume me.
Stop...Reboot...
Sorry, command not recognized...
I spend the evening this way. I hurt to my core. My throat and chest feel like a vice is wrapped around them. All I can do is wait for sleep to silence the despair. Tomorrow is a new day, and I can try again. I'll put on a happy face, and I'll sound cheerful. I'll convince people I am a good employee, but what I really am is a better actor. I have 2 options available to me: I can learn to deal with my failures, or I can not. People put far more faith and stock in me than I am worthy of. I am no one special, no one important and I have accomplished nothing worth mentioning in social studies class. If I can come to grips with this, and tailor the next 30 years of my life around it, what is preventing everyone else from doing the same?
Next time with happier tidings
Chase
You have said "I'm sorry for the inconvenience" or "I'm sorry I don't know that" dozens of times and its not even lunch hour yet. You hate telling people that. It is your polite code for I failed you, and there's nothing I can do about it. So many times, so many people you can't help. Why the hell are you still wasting time in this chair? People need you and you fall short over and over again. What is the point?
You sit in traffic for 40 minutes to find your way home and you apologize to your wife, who pulls in just behind you. You should have been home before now, should have been packing already, but all you can say is "sorry I'm late, traffic was bad." You fill another box in the ever growing mountain of cardboard. Your house is a mess, a disgrace, and there is nothing you can do about it. You haven't dusted, vacuumed or swept in over 3 weeks and it's diving you crazy. Way to fail at one of the things that brings you happiness. You keep packing, and put dinner on. There are no plates or silver...of course not, they're PACKED. You were supposed to find the paper plates and plastic forks, but you didn't do that either. You failed again, and this time it breaks you. One job Chase, you had 1 fucking job and you couldn't do it.
There is no tier 2, there is no helpdesk for me to call with my troubles. No one should care about my troubles because they're mine. I made them, and I have to deal with them. I don't get to call an 800 # and have some voice magic my problems away. Why have I chosen to be that guy? Why have I chosen to be that voice? I am tired of people and their problems. I am so extremely tired. I don't want to play this game of repetition anymore, but I have no choice. I have to have money so I work. As I sit here my daughter calls "Da-da?" up the stairs until my wife comes to her and helps. "Your daughter is calling you." she says. I know, as I stare through watery, tear filled eyes at these words I'm typing, I KNOW THAT! I scream inside my head. She doesn't need to see me, or hear me like this. I have lost the fight. Too much stacked against me for one day and I have LOST.
Simple things like finding paper plates and plastic forks loom like towers over me. You can't do it. I know I can't. Comments from my wife and squeaks from my daughter for attention because she just wants a hug are blocked out. I don't want to hear them, why don't they understand I am a failure? Why don't they turn their backs and leave me alone? I don't deserve love, I haven't earned love. What I have done is shown just another thing that I can fall short at, and the 2 people I care most about were front row, center for the show. Despair and self loathing consume me.
Stop...Reboot...
Sorry, command not recognized...
I spend the evening this way. I hurt to my core. My throat and chest feel like a vice is wrapped around them. All I can do is wait for sleep to silence the despair. Tomorrow is a new day, and I can try again. I'll put on a happy face, and I'll sound cheerful. I'll convince people I am a good employee, but what I really am is a better actor. I have 2 options available to me: I can learn to deal with my failures, or I can not. People put far more faith and stock in me than I am worthy of. I am no one special, no one important and I have accomplished nothing worth mentioning in social studies class. If I can come to grips with this, and tailor the next 30 years of my life around it, what is preventing everyone else from doing the same?
Next time with happier tidings
Chase
Friday, April 18, 2014
Easter week blog off - Finale
Today's topic is forgiveness, whether for yourself or someone else, because love was more important. I'm going to roll the clock back to last October again, are you starting to see a pattern here? All the important things that happen to me seem to revolve around that month. Committing 16 or more nights to our haunted farm means we need find someone to watch our daughter more often than usual. That means calling my parents into play. A misunderstanding as to who was watching her when, resulted in an argument that drove a wedge between me and my folks.
Everyone handles conflict differently, yelling, berating each other, guilt trips, wrestling, and sometimes all out slugfests. In my mother's case, the silent treatment is her weapon of choice. After a very heated exchange at their house, I was asked not to come back. I wasn't their son anymore, they told me. While that comment cut deeply, I relied on my wife and our plan. We had decided on who would watch our daughter and when well ahead of time. To our knowledge, we'd expressed this plan to both pairs of grandparents so they could schedule accordingly. Miscommunication at this point didn't make me wrong, in my mind the argument wasn't my fault. I had my daughter's best interests at heart and if anyone, even my parents, disagreed, that was on them. Period.
The holiday season passed with very little interaction between me and them. I was assailed by doubt on multiple occasions, but I fell back on my wife. I had done nothing wrong. I was living my life, making decisions with and for my family, and if my parents disagreed, it was still on them. That fact had not changed. If they wanted to isolate themselves from us, and from their granddaughter, that was their choice. There was nothing I could do about it. I concluded time was being wasted because of their decision to be prideful.
My dad reached out first, as he usually did. He doesn't hold the kind of iron grudge that my mom does. We spoke briefly in text messages through November, and discussed meeting at a local mall to get our daughter's picture with Santa. Sadly another Thanksgiving came and went without my parents at the table. I am becoming more accustomed to that tradition since I began my family. The next time we saw each other was for lunch outside the mall on the chosen day. My dad seemed genuinely happy to see me, while my mom was down right frigid. She would smile at my daughter with one side of her face and grimace at me with the other. This is over a month later, mind you. She has been holding this grudge for a month and a week. As the photo session came to a close, we asked my parents point blank if they would be attending our daughter's birthday the following weekend. As if they had practiced it, they both looked away from us and did not answer the question. We left, there was nothing more either party needed to say.
For our daughter's sake, my parents did make it to the party, and while a bit withdrawn, she wouldn't have known any better. As before, my dad seemed himself, but my mom still couldn't look my direction without seeming pained. I had seen this face many times in my youth, it meant I'd done something wrong and there was no repairing it. This time though, my shield came back up in the form of my wife. I was doing right by her, and at the end of the day when I closed my eyes, that's what mattered most. Pictures we took at the party will show, smiling faces, balloons and everyone having a good time. My daughter won't know how her grandmother was feeling toward her daddy that day.
The next opportunity we had to get together was our annual Christmas Eve sushi feast at a local hibachi house. For the 1st time in years, my parents were not at the table. This is verging on 3 months after our initial argument. 3 MONTHS! Who can let anger fester for that long? Clearly I know the answer now. While all this had been going on I was attending my weekly men's accountability group at church, and it seemed I had more bad news to deliver on this subject each time. My brothers always offered comfort or advice whenever they could, but ultimately time was the only thing to right the situation. Nothing I did or said would have an effect now
After New Years something changed, I gave up the fight. I stopped caring about right and wrong, and realized I just missed my parents. I prayed hard and forgave them their behavior over the past 3 1/2 months. I lifted up their names in group prayer each week, and asked God to show them their way back to my family. It took time, but my conversations with my dad became longer, and one day he came out and asked if mom and he could watch their granddaughter for a weekend. He asked my permission! I was shocked, but agreed. It seemed they missed her as much as I missed them. After that, we reached a new arrangement where our daughter spends the 3rd weekend of the month with them. My parents have resumed their role in our lives and last night, for the 1st time since October 3rd, 2013, my mom said she loved me.
Everyone handles conflict differently, yelling, berating each other, guilt trips, wrestling, and sometimes all out slugfests. In my mother's case, the silent treatment is her weapon of choice. After a very heated exchange at their house, I was asked not to come back. I wasn't their son anymore, they told me. While that comment cut deeply, I relied on my wife and our plan. We had decided on who would watch our daughter and when well ahead of time. To our knowledge, we'd expressed this plan to both pairs of grandparents so they could schedule accordingly. Miscommunication at this point didn't make me wrong, in my mind the argument wasn't my fault. I had my daughter's best interests at heart and if anyone, even my parents, disagreed, that was on them. Period.
The holiday season passed with very little interaction between me and them. I was assailed by doubt on multiple occasions, but I fell back on my wife. I had done nothing wrong. I was living my life, making decisions with and for my family, and if my parents disagreed, it was still on them. That fact had not changed. If they wanted to isolate themselves from us, and from their granddaughter, that was their choice. There was nothing I could do about it. I concluded time was being wasted because of their decision to be prideful.
My dad reached out first, as he usually did. He doesn't hold the kind of iron grudge that my mom does. We spoke briefly in text messages through November, and discussed meeting at a local mall to get our daughter's picture with Santa. Sadly another Thanksgiving came and went without my parents at the table. I am becoming more accustomed to that tradition since I began my family. The next time we saw each other was for lunch outside the mall on the chosen day. My dad seemed genuinely happy to see me, while my mom was down right frigid. She would smile at my daughter with one side of her face and grimace at me with the other. This is over a month later, mind you. She has been holding this grudge for a month and a week. As the photo session came to a close, we asked my parents point blank if they would be attending our daughter's birthday the following weekend. As if they had practiced it, they both looked away from us and did not answer the question. We left, there was nothing more either party needed to say.
For our daughter's sake, my parents did make it to the party, and while a bit withdrawn, she wouldn't have known any better. As before, my dad seemed himself, but my mom still couldn't look my direction without seeming pained. I had seen this face many times in my youth, it meant I'd done something wrong and there was no repairing it. This time though, my shield came back up in the form of my wife. I was doing right by her, and at the end of the day when I closed my eyes, that's what mattered most. Pictures we took at the party will show, smiling faces, balloons and everyone having a good time. My daughter won't know how her grandmother was feeling toward her daddy that day.
The next opportunity we had to get together was our annual Christmas Eve sushi feast at a local hibachi house. For the 1st time in years, my parents were not at the table. This is verging on 3 months after our initial argument. 3 MONTHS! Who can let anger fester for that long? Clearly I know the answer now. While all this had been going on I was attending my weekly men's accountability group at church, and it seemed I had more bad news to deliver on this subject each time. My brothers always offered comfort or advice whenever they could, but ultimately time was the only thing to right the situation. Nothing I did or said would have an effect now
After New Years something changed, I gave up the fight. I stopped caring about right and wrong, and realized I just missed my parents. I prayed hard and forgave them their behavior over the past 3 1/2 months. I lifted up their names in group prayer each week, and asked God to show them their way back to my family. It took time, but my conversations with my dad became longer, and one day he came out and asked if mom and he could watch their granddaughter for a weekend. He asked my permission! I was shocked, but agreed. It seemed they missed her as much as I missed them. After that, we reached a new arrangement where our daughter spends the 3rd weekend of the month with them. My parents have resumed their role in our lives and last night, for the 1st time since October 3rd, 2013, my mom said she loved me.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Once and for all
I mentioned that my family and I are moving a few entries back, but now I think I have enough to make a full blown post about it. We have only ever moved once before, and we had 6 years less crap to make the trip with. We moved from a rental townhouse to our current home. It was somewhat disorganized process, but luckily everything that was supposed to come along for the ride did. Moving from one private residence to another is a whole different animal by comparison.
We are fortunate in the fact that our real estate agents and loan officer are close personal friends. That has afforded us quite a bit more information and understanding of what is going on than if we had just chosen at random. This time around, we didn't serve up a notice to our landlord, instead we were held responsible for a list of repairs requested by the buyers. Now we were told we could flat refuse them, but that was amended with, if you do their loan could be refused, and you'll lose the sale. We negotiated for the less expensive items, but ultimately got saddled with the whole list, which carried a $3500 price tag.
We were told at the very beginning stages of this process that it is much like a circus and the real estate agent was directing all the acts at once to make sure his buyers got they paid for. That was never more apparent than this afternoon. Our contractor was in the midst of repairing our chimney; a job he has assured us was going to take until next week to complete, due to the materials delivery schedule he had to adhere to. The type of siding he was using is only delivered on Wednesday, so there was no way he could be back before Thursday of next week to complete the repair. The idea was to close on that day, and he was aware of our completion deadline before he ever accepted the job. Unfortunately, there was no way for him to have known the extent of the work that was needed until he was elbow deep in the mix.
I relayed this bad news to my agent who contacted all interested parties and had our closing shifted to next Friday so all the work could be complete and necessary supporting documentation prepared. My wife took on the task of contacting our utility companies and the movers. The 1st snag came in the way of the movers being booked solid next Friday, followed by the utility company advising us they do not do shut offs on Friday, it would have to be the following Monday. Bottom line was we would have to pay an overnight holding fee to keep our movers (or change movers altogether) and do without utilities for 3 days while paying to keep them running in the house we had just vacated. No thank you! As the day wore on, emotions and stress levels were redlining.
I took a walk outside at 4:30p and found almost all the siding hung, and 2 full slats sitting on the driveway. I looked to the GC's 2nd in command and said, "I'm thinking we're going to have enough siding to finish this thing today" He answered, "We have exactly enough!" These were just the words I needed to hear. With exception of a coat of paint, the repairs are complete. I called my agent back with some good news for a change, and by the grace of God all interested parties agreed to set closing back to next Thursday. It seems this is just meant to be the day, everything fits into place on Thursday.
The countdown is back on track, and 7 days from now we'll be sitting in our new, albeit hellishly disorganized, house. The stress from the last 7 weeks will be a memory and I can finally focus my energy on the next chapter of our lives. There are new rooms to arrange and a whole new yard and garden to tame. The age of New Guedryfell is fast approaching, and I am finally excited about it.
We are fortunate in the fact that our real estate agents and loan officer are close personal friends. That has afforded us quite a bit more information and understanding of what is going on than if we had just chosen at random. This time around, we didn't serve up a notice to our landlord, instead we were held responsible for a list of repairs requested by the buyers. Now we were told we could flat refuse them, but that was amended with, if you do their loan could be refused, and you'll lose the sale. We negotiated for the less expensive items, but ultimately got saddled with the whole list, which carried a $3500 price tag.
We were told at the very beginning stages of this process that it is much like a circus and the real estate agent was directing all the acts at once to make sure his buyers got they paid for. That was never more apparent than this afternoon. Our contractor was in the midst of repairing our chimney; a job he has assured us was going to take until next week to complete, due to the materials delivery schedule he had to adhere to. The type of siding he was using is only delivered on Wednesday, so there was no way he could be back before Thursday of next week to complete the repair. The idea was to close on that day, and he was aware of our completion deadline before he ever accepted the job. Unfortunately, there was no way for him to have known the extent of the work that was needed until he was elbow deep in the mix.
I relayed this bad news to my agent who contacted all interested parties and had our closing shifted to next Friday so all the work could be complete and necessary supporting documentation prepared. My wife took on the task of contacting our utility companies and the movers. The 1st snag came in the way of the movers being booked solid next Friday, followed by the utility company advising us they do not do shut offs on Friday, it would have to be the following Monday. Bottom line was we would have to pay an overnight holding fee to keep our movers (or change movers altogether) and do without utilities for 3 days while paying to keep them running in the house we had just vacated. No thank you! As the day wore on, emotions and stress levels were redlining.
I took a walk outside at 4:30p and found almost all the siding hung, and 2 full slats sitting on the driveway. I looked to the GC's 2nd in command and said, "I'm thinking we're going to have enough siding to finish this thing today" He answered, "We have exactly enough!" These were just the words I needed to hear. With exception of a coat of paint, the repairs are complete. I called my agent back with some good news for a change, and by the grace of God all interested parties agreed to set closing back to next Thursday. It seems this is just meant to be the day, everything fits into place on Thursday.
The countdown is back on track, and 7 days from now we'll be sitting in our new, albeit hellishly disorganized, house. The stress from the last 7 weeks will be a memory and I can finally focus my energy on the next chapter of our lives. There are new rooms to arrange and a whole new yard and garden to tame. The age of New Guedryfell is fast approaching, and I am finally excited about it.
Easter week blog off - Part 4
Today's topic, what burden did you turn over to God? What cross did you shoulder that God relieved you of? As human beings we are wired to give in to temptations, that's why they're called temptations. Everyone has their guilty pleasure, their vice, and in some cases their full blown sin.
Love of money = Greed
Love of food = Gluttony
Love of the flesh = Lust
Now when I use the word "love" I mean to the level of an idol. Putting money, food, or flesh before God is a sin. I wrestle with all 3 of these in some capacity and pray over at least 2 of them nightly. I won't say that I put money before God, but it makes up the majority of my daily stress and worry. Where is it going? Do we have enough of it? Will we have enough next week? Are we spending wisely? Are we saving enough, or at all? At any random time of the day one of these questions is always on my mind. Why? On 3 separate occasions in the past month, I have been on the verge of panic over our finances and all 3 times we came out with exactly what we needed, no more and no less. Right on the money, if you'll pardon the pun. Now you might say I lucked out, and maybe I did, but luck and grace hang out real close to each other in my experience.
I love food, as anyone who knows me will attest. I revel in the challenge of cooking every single day. You don't tip the scales at 220 lbs by relying on peanut butter sandwiches and Jello, let me tell you. I wouldn't say that I regard food more than God, though I know I eat too much. I recognize that what I have, "my daily bread" even, is from Him who loves me. I also know my skill and passion for cooking is from Him as well. I am thankful for both of these things daily, and have never viewed food as an idol.
Now for that 3rd one, lust of the eyes, and lust of the flesh. I have tripped into this bear trap countless times. This October I will be married to my wife for 7 years. I love her and would do anything and everything to make her happy until my last sunset. Society and media on the other hand, use scantily clad women to try to sell me everything from cars to double bacon cheeseburgers. Since middle school I have been hooked on porn. It was free, easily accessible, and doesn't hurt anyone. How is this a bad thing? It skewed my impression of what a woman is supposed to be, that's how! Real world women and porn star women are two roads that will never cross. I allowed myself to be brainwashed into thinking real women are willing and able to reenact "Debbie Does Dallas: 500" at a moments notice. This is wrong.
The longer I was married, the more the truth of the matter became apparent. Page 218 of the Kamasutra (you know, the position that calls for a rope swing and peach preserves) was not in my future. But why not? I had a wife now, that's the best part of being married, isn't it? This confused my brainwashed self, and led me back to porn. I rationalized that if marriage didn't equal my getting what I had seen in pictures for the past 10 years, the pictures were still there, they were still free, and my imagination could fill in the blanks. At the end of the day, I didn't love my wife any less, and I would still do anything to make her happy. As far as I was concerned everybody came out on top.
Remember that selfless gift that lives in my dresser drawer? There are dozens of references to the "reward" awaiting those with any hint of sexual immorality in their lives. I seem to recall something about being grouped with the murders, rapist and liars for judgement, followed by a leisurely dip in a lake of fire and endless torment. GET ME OFF THAT LIST! I came before God in evening prayer, and admitted in a loud proud voice (inside my head at least) I love boobs! You made billions of them and they are great, but you only made 2 of them for me. They belong to my wife, and I love her the most. WHAM! My cross dropped. I owned up to the most powerful and controlling, burden of my life and turned it over to God. He loves me, I trust Him, and nothing can control me if He doesn't give it permission. I'll bet a whole pile of money that porn doesn't ask permission.
Since then it has been a conscious effort to not allow myself into situations where temptation will be found. That is to say I stopped looking for it, but it still looks for me. What is different now, you wonder? How do I avoid my former favorite bear trap? I wake up every morning with the same two thoughts: 1) I will be tempted today 2) My armor is shining and I will keep it that way.
Love of money = Greed
Love of food = Gluttony
Love of the flesh = Lust
Now when I use the word "love" I mean to the level of an idol. Putting money, food, or flesh before God is a sin. I wrestle with all 3 of these in some capacity and pray over at least 2 of them nightly. I won't say that I put money before God, but it makes up the majority of my daily stress and worry. Where is it going? Do we have enough of it? Will we have enough next week? Are we spending wisely? Are we saving enough, or at all? At any random time of the day one of these questions is always on my mind. Why? On 3 separate occasions in the past month, I have been on the verge of panic over our finances and all 3 times we came out with exactly what we needed, no more and no less. Right on the money, if you'll pardon the pun. Now you might say I lucked out, and maybe I did, but luck and grace hang out real close to each other in my experience.
I love food, as anyone who knows me will attest. I revel in the challenge of cooking every single day. You don't tip the scales at 220 lbs by relying on peanut butter sandwiches and Jello, let me tell you. I wouldn't say that I regard food more than God, though I know I eat too much. I recognize that what I have, "my daily bread" even, is from Him who loves me. I also know my skill and passion for cooking is from Him as well. I am thankful for both of these things daily, and have never viewed food as an idol.
Now for that 3rd one, lust of the eyes, and lust of the flesh. I have tripped into this bear trap countless times. This October I will be married to my wife for 7 years. I love her and would do anything and everything to make her happy until my last sunset. Society and media on the other hand, use scantily clad women to try to sell me everything from cars to double bacon cheeseburgers. Since middle school I have been hooked on porn. It was free, easily accessible, and doesn't hurt anyone. How is this a bad thing? It skewed my impression of what a woman is supposed to be, that's how! Real world women and porn star women are two roads that will never cross. I allowed myself to be brainwashed into thinking real women are willing and able to reenact "Debbie Does Dallas: 500" at a moments notice. This is wrong.
The longer I was married, the more the truth of the matter became apparent. Page 218 of the Kamasutra (you know, the position that calls for a rope swing and peach preserves) was not in my future. But why not? I had a wife now, that's the best part of being married, isn't it? This confused my brainwashed self, and led me back to porn. I rationalized that if marriage didn't equal my getting what I had seen in pictures for the past 10 years, the pictures were still there, they were still free, and my imagination could fill in the blanks. At the end of the day, I didn't love my wife any less, and I would still do anything to make her happy. As far as I was concerned everybody came out on top.
Remember that selfless gift that lives in my dresser drawer? There are dozens of references to the "reward" awaiting those with any hint of sexual immorality in their lives. I seem to recall something about being grouped with the murders, rapist and liars for judgement, followed by a leisurely dip in a lake of fire and endless torment. GET ME OFF THAT LIST! I came before God in evening prayer, and admitted in a loud proud voice (inside my head at least) I love boobs! You made billions of them and they are great, but you only made 2 of them for me. They belong to my wife, and I love her the most. WHAM! My cross dropped. I owned up to the most powerful and controlling, burden of my life and turned it over to God. He loves me, I trust Him, and nothing can control me if He doesn't give it permission. I'll bet a whole pile of money that porn doesn't ask permission.
Since then it has been a conscious effort to not allow myself into situations where temptation will be found. That is to say I stopped looking for it, but it still looks for me. What is different now, you wonder? How do I avoid my former favorite bear trap? I wake up every morning with the same two thoughts: 1) I will be tempted today 2) My armor is shining and I will keep it that way.
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