The big 4-0

Well every birthday I do a bit of freaking out. I have real umbrage with growing older. I don’t really want to grow older. Being old to me represents weakness, your body starts breaking down, and when you get to old you become a burden to others…and we ALL know how I hate that.

On the other hand I’m in disbelief I am still alive, and kicking. Even among my older friends from back in the day, they are mildly shocked. I lived a life on the edge. Walking 26th and California at 2am, eating a hostess pie with not a care in the world does take a little bit of insanity.

So the build up begins and wierd strange thoughts go in and out of my head. If I seem wierd or erratic it’s because I’m fucking freaking out over the fact I’m turning 40, and I’m wondering how the fuck I managed that.

Hollow Man

Monday Hangover

No I didn’t really get drunk this weekend. Some things did occur though.

Saturday is the day I usually do my Mom’s shopping. Now she wanted me to use a check, I told her they usually check ID’s for checks. My mother insisted I would be ok. Now sure as shit, when I check out. They want to see ID. I get flustered tell them I have a parking ticket in the car, they said they couldn’t take that. I could of paid for it, but here I am posing as John, (my stepfather), and now I whip out a credit card saying Chris. Yeah police might want to talk to me. So being embarrassed thouroghly I snapped at my mother. Which is the wrong thing to do, but I hate being forced in those situations. Thats why I rarely don’t return shit. I just want to go into the store, do my business, and get the fuck out. I’ll apologize to my mother tonight, next time I’ll set up some rules, and no more checks.

Sunday I went to the bar to grab a beer, and relax on the patio. Turns out I knew some people there. A friends sister which she wants a nickname on this blog, and I can’t just pick one out of the air, but I want a good one for her. I think I will call her Passion, I know it sounds like a stripper name, but Passion has always led with her heart, she has always been there for me, and always got my back. I admire her in a way to wear your heart on your sleeve, and not be unguarded like so many people are today. Also Chris Rock was there, this african american gentleman who after hanging with us at the bar has become our friend, and he looks a little like Chris Rock.  We sat up at JWH, and talked about things. Though I initially wanted to be alone with my thoughts, this was way better. Nothing like sharing a drink with a friend, and letting the world pass you by.

Today I’m back to the grind of working, and living.

Facebook

I always disliked Facebook, thats the core reason I post the dirty shit I post. Somewhere along the way, like the movie gladiator I got addicted to the attention it afforded me. When Maximo says at first you will hate the crowd for it, then you will love the crowd for it.

It came to my attention a few of my statuses were finding their way to Ginny, and I looked at my mutual friends, and they are all people I thought were my friends. That hurt me a bit.

Now people are writing things like I’m a coward, and I have no balls. Really the guy who posted whatever he felt like, and had no shame posting pics of myself humping plastic horses, or passed out on the stair of JWH.  Listen the bottomline is I’m tired. I’m tired of being social, and dealing with the drama, and bullshit. I need to just walk away, and find some me time. To relax, and enjoy some quietude.

You can think whatever you want to think, I no longer give a shit.

Emptiness

I think I finally snapped, between what has all happened. From seeing my mother, trying to pull against her restraints, and in a state of madness, from seeing my dad look like he was near death, the profound sadness over my best friend’s father, or  to having a knife stuck in my heart by my ex-girlfriend.

I feel empty, devoid, numb like there’s no more emotion in me, things just aren’t making me happy like they use too. . It’s not depression, cause sadness would be something. I feel like a robot, or I was made of stone. Usually I get real excited about the annual Tinley Park block party. Not this year, I just don’t even feel like going. I’m kind of forcing myself, going through the motions so to speak. I thought getting my hair dyed blonde would kickstart something, it just didn’t do the trick.

Maybe given time I’ll get back to my old self, but the times have changed, things have changed….perhaps my old self is gone.

This to shall pass

So they say. My dad will need dialysis, though it sucks and it will be hard for him. It’s better then his other option….dead. I was watching him sleep, breathing hard yesterday. It strengthen my resolve to get the gastric bypass, I do not want to end up like him. So the pain of gastric bypass, and the trials and tribulations will be well worth it, if in the end I don’t end up having to do dialysis…or worse.

As for my mother, she looks better then she did, but she is still grossly underweight, and her hands are still shaking, and she is still not 100% mentally there. I gave her a birthday card yesterday, she looked at it for about 10 minutes not understanding what it said, in the end I read it.  Ginny brought her a card with a buff guy on the front, My Mom said it looked like me. I told her she keeps talking like that, she’ll never get out of the hospital.

As for Ginny, it was really nice of her to bring my Mom a flower, and a card. I don’t hate Ginny, I really don’t, and perhaps I am being a little harsher then I should be. I feel I must. I want her to be happy, she says she was happy with me. If she was happy I don’t think she would of acted out the way she did, and said the hurtful things she did.  I know she loves me, and cares about me. She accused me of not feeling about it. There are nights I cry thinking over it, and this decision will haunt me for a long time.

Am I making a mistake? Most likely. Will I regret my actions? Most assuredly.  Then why don’t I suck up my pride, and just forgive her, and take her back. Yet again it goes back to my father. Ginny reminds me alot about my mother, a kind gentle woman but there is a streak of selfishness there. My mother left my father over money. After years he spent trying his best to please her, and give her whatever she wanted…she left.  It nearly destroyed my father.  For 8 months I worked to make Ginny happy, but it was never enough. If she truly loved me she wouldn’t of done some of the things she did, not just the exploding at me. The hanging out with all dudes, or going on that bike run. There are certain things a woman in a committed relationship should not do, if she didn’t realize that, then she is selfish.  I WILL NOT end up like my father. So I have to bid her farewell, if she for one moment treated me with a little more compassion, and understanding. Instead of flying off the handle saying some hurtful things, or done things that gave me grief, then we would still be together.

Will I find love again? Will my parents be ok? Will I have the strength for the Gastric Bypass?

I don’t know. I am a slave to fate….but all these troubles will pass. and a new set of problems will arise. it’s the way of things.  I don’t have a Chaos tattoo on me for nothing.

Here I Go Again On My Own

I had to break up with the one I love. It was very hard because I love her to death. I won’t go into details, but when I needed her love and compassion the most, she only gave me pain, and heartache. I thought she was the one. I thought she was my last. She proved me wrong. I bare her no ill will. I wish her the best, and I hope she finds happiness. Does it hurt? Yes more than you can imagine, but then again pain and misery I felt so much in my life at some point you just become numb to it.

My mother is in the hospital again, and this time it isn’t good. It’s hard to visit her because she is delirous, so much so she is in restraints, and to see someone you love in restraints is enough to drive you to anger. When I get angry, bad things happen. I swear I’m on a knives edge, and about to toss someone out the fucking window at the hospital, but my Mom is only on the second floor, that person won’t get hurt.  I found out Friday that they found Cancer in her colon when they did the operation to repair her messed up colon. They have to run more tests to see how bad it is, they can’t right now because she has to heal from her operation.

Meanwhile I have to spend nights at my mothers, because my stepdad is in such bad shape, he can’t be left alone. I am having a rough time sleeping there, and thank God I can run World of Warcraft off my Mom’s computer, only thing that is keeping me somewhat sane. I have a little resentment towards the fact that the duty falls on my head, but my nephew stepped up one day, let me recharge my battery. I used that day to visit friends, and thank god for my friends. I had so many laughs Sunday, it really did do me good. What will happen to him if something happens to my mother, I don’t know. I really don’t.

Well as bleak as things may seem. I know that this too shall pass, and I’m quite stocked up on whiskey at the house so that’s a good thing

 

There is no normal life, just life

“There is no normal life, just life” – Val Kilmer as Doc Holiday from the movie Tombstone.

One of my favorite lines from a movie. I would love for once my life was normal though. To be married, a good job, kids….that isn’t my lot in life. My life has been anything but normal…jail…mental institute, college, every job known to man, love, hate, death, and pain. I seen it all.  Any man who says he doesn’t have regrets is either a simpleton, or a fool.  I have legions of them.

There are times I curse God, Destiny, or whatever power that has been guiding my life. I haved begged those same powers for release of these chains of whatever fate they have condemned me to. I have fought, and rattled these chains to the bursting point. The sad thing is at every greatest tragedy of my life, at the heart of every regret, there is no God to blame, fate had nothing to do with it. In the dark hours of the night as I lay in bed, or I look myself in the mirror I know who the enemy is, I know who, and what to blame for my failings.

That person is me.

What Might Be

It’s funny people claim to know me, they know nothing.

For me there is no “What could of been?”, or “What might be?”  There is none of that for me. I know my fate, I know my destiny. My life is a constant state of war…my demons are legion. Sometimes you must let go of something you love, because you know in the end you will only hurt that which you love.  Do you know what it’s like to be offered everything you ever wanted, and you must refuse because you know you would only destroy it? I do.

Sometimes a girl comes along that gives me respite, and I fantasize about a normal life for a moment, a life filled with children, and marriage. A normal life, a life where I die of old age surrounded by my family.  Then reality seeps in and I realize I must let go of that girl, let her find her own happiness. For a life with me is a bitter struggle. A struggle I let no one see, for I can not allow myself a moment of weakness. I will go to the grave with my burdens, and I will not allow anyone shoulder my pain for an instant. I must be made of sterner stuff, I must be made of Iron…Iron within….Iron without.

As much pain, and sadness I deal with how can I still laugh, and find enjoyment in life….because of all people I know how precious that life is. It can all be taken away in an instant. As the Gods mock and laugh at me, I laugh back.  There are many a drunken nights I stare up at the sky, and I challenge God to smite me. He knows letting me live is a far better curse then death could ever be.  

For the last couple weeks I knew the Ginny was getting close, and at one point I thought maybe I could escape my fate, the the Gods have blessed me with a reprieve. It was not to be.   I tried to push her away, but in a moment of weakness I allowed myself to dream. Today I let her go for good. I cut her out of my life. I have to. I must find the courage, and the strength to keep it this way. Monsters do not have happy endings, and I love this girl so much she deserves one. 

 

Cleaning Out My Closet

Next week I will continue my friends series with Commando, Torino, Nascar, Towelie, RJ, Frumpy, Tallegdega…and so many more.

Now I kind of want to get something of my chest. My Mother. She called me a dick the other night, and it kind of hurt. I am many things, but a dick I do not think I am.

Let’s start the beginning, My Mother and I were best friends, we’d go shopping together, hang out together, I was her little shadow back in the day. It took a drastic change when she ran out on my father. The reason was over financial stuff. I am an idealist, I think marriage is for better, or for worse. When she ran out it hurt me deeply, Not only that it hurt my father deeply, and I had to watch him go through a deep depression. My family unit was destroyed, and I blamed my mother. In hindsight I know it takes two to tango, and my Dad wasn’t perfect, but that’s what marriages are about you work things out. Probably deep down I never really forgave my Mom for this, and the hate still simmers under the service. Her mercenary tendencies always rubbed me the wrong way, probably why I don’t give a shit about money.

Years later I found out my Mom had cancer, and I put my hate aside, and was by her side when she battled that disease, driving her to radiology treatments, visiting hospitals, trying to toss a doctor out the window. One time my mom was getting a tube down her throat, and the young doctor was doing it wrong, my Mom knew he was cause she was a nurse, she screamed for him to stop, he didn’t, he punctured her lung. I was there when it happened, my brother, and some other family members had to physically stop me from tossing the doctor out a 5 story window.

Ever since then I’ve always been there for my Mom, visiting her, helping her, shopping for her, etc. etc. Then disaster struck my Stepdad had a stroke. He’s a good man, and when he moved back home, My Mother asked me to move back in with her to help her out. I did, and in the beginning it was just me. I changed the diapers, got him into bed, all that fun stuff. No one else was there, not even the guys own daughter. That seems to of slipped my mother’s mind. 

Another problem is my Mom’s gambling, she gambles ALOT. Like 2-3 days a week for 8-10 hours. She has a serious problem, she doesn’t see it. Being an old gambling junkee myself I know, I been there. Hell I still crack up now and then and go to the boat. Here’s the difference between me and my mother, I don’t have a paraylzed man to worry about at home. I know my Mom is depressed, she needs real help, but she refuses to listen. I remember telling my Mom, we have to tighten our belts, I told her she didn’t need nurses everyday, I would pick up the slack on Mondays, Tuesdays, even Wendesdays. Told her she needed to stop gambling, and buying stuff she doesn’t need, which she does all the time. She never made those changes. In fact her and me would get into screaming matches over it, and she would tell me I’m not her father.

It all hit a head when I forbade my Mother to go to my Grandmother’s wake, it’s my fathers mother, he had a hard time dealing with it I didn’t want her complicating any thing. My Mother told me to get the fuck out, I said fine I will. Thats when I made steps to get the fuck out. Then she wanted to pay rent, now I wouldn’t mind helping my mother out if she really needed help, but where is my money going…to the boat? Now that I’m moving out, My Mother is still a hard headed person, even now if she said to me she was sorry, and that she really needed my help, please don’t leave. I most assuredly wouldn’t. No not my mother, she villifies me, makes me look like the bad guy.

So be it, say hello to the bad guy. I won’t stop helping my Mom, I will be there to do her shopping, and odd chores around the house. I just can’t live with her anymore.  I am profoundly sad at this situation, and now I feel pangs of guilt…but I must do what must be done, perhaps some good will come out of this, perhaps my mother will come to her senses.

I just don’t know anymore.