GetAway

I'm not quite sure what to say or do in this moment.

I am very tired, very lethargic and can't keep myself out of the bed if I'm not working or doing other stuff.

I have never been depressed in my life and I'm not now. There is a ton of stuff rattling around in my head. I'd like it to stop but I know it never will.

I keep running into a bunch of 'gotcha' moment traps set up by my wife. Tit-for-tat arguments are not sexy when you're being run ragged and mentally tired.

I'm not angry nor am I confused on what I have to do. I just want to do something else in this moment. There is no running away from stuff like this. I just don't want to be in this moment.

But I am.

My phone hasn't rung and I haven't heard from any of my sibs.

I don't even have to pick up the phone and call my mother, I don't think I've even dialed the number but we talk. And the look in her eyes the last time we shared the same space...

Damn.

Looking into the future, things are so dim right now and the only support I'm getting seems more gawkish and misunderstood than anything else. But it's accepted... Everyone isn't supposed to understand, but loyalty...

I've never been this mentally fatigued. It has manifested itself into body aches, eye/headaches and me killing two bottles of sangria I copped from a 7/11 last night. The hangover felt better than my normality.

I still want a few shots of whiskey, but I got things to do. It's taking so much right now to deal with other people's shit when all I really need is for someone, ANYONE to take the shit off of my shoulders for maybe five minutes.

But I'm good.

I'll tuck it all away after I hit the 'publish post' button and carry on like nothing is wrong. I'll continue to smile and laugh and appreciate the beautiful things in the now that I probably won't have in the future. I still find beauty in the life I live now even when a lot of folks around me purposely cannot.

This shit is insane, isn't it?

Other than being on automatic for the sake of others, I have no clue on what to do next. I'm having a hard problem in seeing what's next but that ain't the torturous part...

Standing there watching everyone else suffer mentally, spiritually physically while absolutely nothing happens to you... It's like being the bridesmaid and never the bride except you're the pallbearer or the executor and there is this machine you're working to manage the output from manufacturing death and destruction.

And Satan is the foreman...

And he keeps calling overtime.

I wonder if you get PTO or scheduled time off ?

I'm Being Lied To

It's one thing to be told something in an attempt to protect you from yourself. You know, things said to you so your feelings won't get hurt. Having a handful of inconvenient truths. Best to be knee deep and happy in ones ignorance sometimes, right? There is another thing to be straight lied to. There is also the truth as well. Most of the time, the truth works for me, but sometimes you have to balance them both in order to function properly.

But what happens when you're not functioning at optimal performance?

I must confess, I am not at my best right now. I've tried to put myself into developing BrownBloggers to take my mind away from dealing with me getting back on track health wise and also with my finances. It's not helping, but I keep pushing on. For the first time in my life I'm suffering from pre-hypertension, and that's with my blood sugars being under control. Usually with uncontrolled diabetes one can really get in a bind with blood pressure. My blood sugars are in control and on point (no ketones either), but I guess with me coming off of a major injury and going thru rehab for it and making yet another career change (based on that injury) as well as relocating cross-country to where I only know a few people, that can take a toll.

I also lost contact with a handful of people that I used to rock out with before coming to Texas. That sucks monkey ass. Let's just say I gave up being with family and friends to be here and maybe I should have though long and hard before making a decision to relocate. I mean I have a support system here, but I read people well and already know that hands are on the rug, waiting to give it a nice tug if you know what I mean.

I also have recently come to terms with myself. Here are some of my truths:

• I realize that I stay up all night because there's not enough alcohol and pain relievers to stop my joints from aching while I lay still so I try to keep moving around doing stuff. It keeps me busy enough to not deal with the pain most times
  
• I know that I bury myself in busywork to take my mind off of the fact that I'm not where I want to be in life so I keep trying to do the things to get me there even if it means sacrificing those moments in which I should stop and smell roses and stuff. If I focus on anything else other than being free I'd probably self destruct
  
• I know why I haven't spoken to my mother since August. We don't like each other and have expressed that in person over the years. Our feelings haven't changed and probably won't anytime soon so I respect her enough to keep my distance and not rattle my sibs. I do speak with them from time to time and right now they have no issue with us
  
• I have accepted that I was molested as a child and I watched the adults around me and the church cover it up to protect the person that did it instead of protecting me and the other kids. On one hand (in a sick, disgusting way) I understand why that was done. The other knows that not protecting your children is the most unforgivable thing. Churches yield money and power for the ones that benefit from administering it. Selfish bastards chose that path instead of family. It has definitely affected how I think of trust and relationships as an adult and how sex comes into play. It doesn't.
  
• I remember drinking at least a half gallon of liquor every other day overseas while in the Army in an attempt to cope with depression and anger. I replaced that with food when I got home and now 15 years after the military I've replace those things with writing and composing as a form of control. Thing is, I've had extreme writer's block since December and that piece below is the first thing I wrote since
• I'm losing a battle (not the war) with diabetes and the next 36-plus years are going to be damned difficult to say the least. My leg circulation is poor and it's starting to make regular things like walking and standing difficult sometimes. I'm doing what I can to make myself comfortable but most of the time the comfort aspect is a short lived thing. No one outside of this disease can understand the amount of discomfort and pain a diabetic person goes thru even when sugars are controlled. No one.
  
• I never feel like I have anything to give to anyone emotionally. A close friend always tells me "Know that you are loved". I don't think I know exactly what that feels like because it's been so foreign to me. I've always been an object to people. As a kid I was the golden goose, just smart enough to get my family out of the ghetto. As an adult I am supposedly a human quote machine, capable of composing song and/or verse for the bewilderment and amusement of others. Other than that, I see no real value that I have to other people, so I act accordingly. Oops, I probably just bit the proverbial hand seeing as all I do is offend and frustrate most of the time
• I confused as to where to turn to. Drinking is too easy and plus I no longer like being drunk. Destroying things (and people) will put me in jail and as far as writing goes, the words aren't coming anymore. I wish I could just find that place to just release everything and start anew, but I'm starting to believe that such a place does not exist. I'm getting angrier and angrier with myself and I hate the fact that I don't know what comes next
• I'm currently being accused of cavorting with the enemy if you will. From the inside. Now that I'm being accused I wish that I was because that would mean that I'd be actually experiencing enjoyment in some way, shape or form. I've always been open and honest with myself with all comers. Hell, even with me blogging all you need to know about Hassan is right here in some way shape or form so imagine if I knew you. Now imagine being accused of that shit by the closest person to you. Riiiiiight. I've been trying to keep in contact with who I can since my move and it has been difficult me being where I am and with my new setup communications wise, but it's hard when simple IM conversations are either misinterpreted or flat out untrue accusations are being made about you and who you contact. Hell, the offer is on the table for me to open my chat archives to clear my name. I'll even publish the shits (minus the names) on this very blog, but what good will that do other than clear the drama? What fun would that be? Being accused of sleeping with the enemy in in my own fort goes against everything I believe. Plus, that'll make me stupid... And a liar. And a cheat. The only thing I literally have in this world is my word. If that means nothing to those I trust then I am nothing to them.
  

Funny, my so-called birthday recently passed and I dreamt that I had a party that day and my wish was for me to die in my sleep. I got my wish and died peacefully with a smile on my face. The moment before I passed, all of the pain and angst flowed from my fingers and toes to the edges of the universe and I danced in my mind before signing off. That was the happiest thought I've had in some time now. The thought followed me for a week or so and I realized that the thought only manifested itself because of my current situation. The reason I left Chicago is because I thought I'd be better off somewhere else. Well, I'm somewhere else now and I wish that I knew where the real somewhere else was, cause I don't fit in here and it's starting to show. I just wish the I didn't have to be lied to because that doesn't make me feel any better. It just grows my anger inside and fuels so many other things things in a negative sense.

I'm slipping, y'all. I need help getting up.