I'm feeling like when I got on the plane heading to boot camp and like the day I finally drove off post for the last time. Its a feeling of not knowing what new rhythms my life is going to be made up of. I'm so used to being able to put my arm around Kelly when I've climbed into bed. I'm used to the casual conversation and the cooperative parenting. I know a little about where I'm going and understand that their are opportunities to make parts of my life more fruitful. I know I'm going alone into that. And along with all that I'm mixed with feelings of sadness over the breakup and relief to be rid of the hateful feeling I often get coming from her. I feel apprehension about my laziness that is my Achilles heel. I wish I had the chance for more quiet moments to get a feel for my direction; just let my mind process this shit.

So that's the snap shot of how I am.

I'm going nowhere. Today to exemplify my listlessness I came across a few "words of wisdom" today and one in particular struck a cord. It went something like this: "It is a moral imperative to take a sucker for all that he is worth." and it occurred to me that I was the sucker. I've landed a job that seems respectable and is on my level with technical knowledge. My wife is barely my friend and that only counts the good times. I cant keep a dime of what I've earned. I'm only living for the moments where I get to wrap my arms around my boys whom I have all intentions to give all of myself... but I'm loosing myself, I cant give them that. Where I am has me truly pinned and committed to a life of survival apart from dreams. Dreams of seeing the world. Dreams of having no financial institutions threatening me to pay them back in blood. Dreams of inspiring people.Dreams of being in love and in lust with someone that truly excites me and is burrowed into my very being and not being alone in the feeling. I've got my boys but I want to give them the free life I've dreamed. But... who is the moral character who has taken this sucker that is apparently me. How do I get me back.

There were days when my most significant desire was to die. I once, very slowly, pushed a knife more than an inch into my chest. I wanted to experience all that the blade did as it passed closer to my heart. I remember the sharpness, the pronounced pain, of the beats of my heart pounding the blade back ... but it didn't feel right. It seemed wrong to do it myself. I often wished that the slick rain soaked streets and highways of washington would send me another vehicle to tear away my life. I even convinced a psychologist that if we can ever appreciate the death of a hero or martyr then we must in turn validate that there are some things that are worth giving up your life for. In my case it was because I had lost many freedoms to the bullshit laws of the army and I had lost nearly everyone I loved. It is so hard to see so many you know turn their back on you. Especially when you trusted them with all your soul. It wasn't a world i wanted to live in.
Ultimately I couldn't do it. Here's why. The first is written deeply into our psyche. The reflex of self preservation. If this wasn't within us then the species would have died off long ago. The next reason is because one person, my roommate Mike Walsh. He was very active in being there for me. He forced food down my throat after I hadn't eaten in more than four days. When I was saturating myself with alcohol to dull the memories of what hurt so bad he watched over me. The next thing that rescued me was a plethora of alcohol. I know it's said that it's a bad thing for the depressed and I wish I hadn't used it so much because it dulled my mind and kept me from the harsh pain. That was the only time in my life that I dodged what was going on by medicating myself. This is the part of my survival that I regret. This last thing that "saved" me was the feeling that I was meant to experience this pain. Death would be neglecting my responsibility. I owed it to those who hurt me. I owed it to myself. I was the one worth leaving. I was the acceptable sacrifice to their damned God. And I wouldn't let Him, or them consume me.
There are so many things that people live for. Some are worth living for. Some are really worth devoting our existence to. These days it's my son. Unfortunately there are many things lived for that are killing us. Some things we devote ourselves to are removing what is divine about being human. Those days that nearly killed me still bring a somber tone to me when those memories cross with my everyday life. (Like when I see my best friend Jayson so deeply in love with Ashley. I had that. Loosing it nearly birthed my apocalypse.) At last I survived. I feel that I am so much less than I was before those events brought me low. I abandoned allot of those things, those ideas that are not worth living for. I died and they didn't stay with me in my grave. When I crawled out of that pit I was changed, more hollow, more founded in a solid ethic. "Only after disaster can we be resurrected." "It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything." it seems weak to use the "infallible" entertainment media to quote what I have found to be truth, but it fit.
I am not preaching that everyone must experience what I had so that they can become a better person. It's a pain I wouldn't wish on anyone. However I would wish that people would consider that they have put to much value on what is worthless. And they could really live great by living for what has its own value. Use your heart, it knows more than you realize and once you have listened to your heart use your mind to measure the knowledge. Do something worth while. That's life, everything else isn't.