I have not been using this thing in a while. I kinda forgot about it for the most part. The thing is that over the last year I have been very conscience of the weight I have gained and the confines of my living situation with my bf.
There has been a lot of life hitting me in the face. Jobless – again. Dealing with a drunk – again. Life is just been a weird spinning ball of piss.
Done with the Debbie-Downer stuff now. On the positive note I went to my first Alanon meeting last week and found it eye-opening. I thought I was going for one reason and discovered there were other ones too. I heard voices from the people there and realized they were saying some of the same things I had to say as well.
The thing is that years of therapy and conscience has risen me above blame and dependence, but not free of my own shadows. It’s vague but it means something to me. Not that anyone is paying attention to this blog to begin with.
Thinking about why I severed my relationship with my father today… I remember how he thought it was because he would not give me money when I asked for it. I remember what it was like realizing that he would never see me more than an annoyance in his life.
There is plenty about the past on here already. I am tired of dealing with my past, with him, with whatever damage is in my own psyche. I have no one to blame but myself. Everyone has some form of fucked up childhood and those that don’t are really fucked up adults.
Tag Archives: jack
In a dark place….
When I started writing this blog as many years ago… it was a time when I was much happier. I am like a swimmer in the ocean caught in the rip tides these days often pulled helpless under the curling waters unable to catch a breath. I am in the wall of an ant trap unable to escape what lay below or the freedom which seemingly exists above.
I grew up so certain of some things and at my current age I have not seen any of those things come true. Everything I thought was written in my minds has so far been a delusion; neither positive or negative these ideas have been the exact opposite of what I dreamed.
In these times I am floundering in those tides of a rough sea in a place both mentally and physically that are killing me like a psychological cancer; my sanity in question and the random disappointments like those killer tides.
- I was supposed to be dead by the time I was 32: failed that one as I am staring 51 in the face.
- I was supposed to be wealthy and having traveled the world before that death… well I guess I got that half right. Being perpetually poor and unable to hold on to a buck. Being constantly in debt and unable to escape taxes, credit cards, student loans debt debt debt really plays on a person’s soul and mind.
No that I am the healthiest of minds to begin with. Not that the way I was raised was any solace to feeling like a healthy human being. I feel like I am dying on the inside and I have no one to find a handle with.
This has nothing to do with my boyfriend, because I love him more than anything right now. I would not want to lose him, but I might need to break away for enough time that I can feel like I have a grip on myself and my responsibilities.
Inside Out
My post yesterday felt a little on the dramatic side. I can feel like I am in some very dark places some times. My life… swear… feels like I am caught in some Greek tragedy. It is the Groundhog Day from Hell.
None the less, I am still navigating and keeping from sinking. I try and stay strong, though I am as weak as the bones I was carved from. I see all the faults of my parents in me. But I also see the strengths as well.
I am done faulting my father and my paternal lineage with where I am and who I am these days. There is a point where I am old enough to consciously make decisions for my self and take ownership of who and where I am.
The inner conflict I face sucks, but the horrible truth is I have to suck it up and find myself somewhere inside.
Happy Veterans Day: My Lemonade Tale
I often see very positive energy coming my way and while I see it, energy does not always become matter. I wish there was more of a manifestation of something of that energy… or how that energy can drive me forward into more internal passion.
My passions are often generating energy that do not always land in a way that makes my journey stronger. I do a lot of things. I try and give a lot of myself. I try to expect nothing in return. Somehow, I feel like it is making me some karma coins yet something my mom told me once still seems to be a curse that floats over me: “If it weren’t for bad luck you would not have any luck at all”.
That statement was not a dig against me. It was not a negative dumped over my head. It was an inescapable truth in my life seeking to become more in my life. What sucks is I never really seem to be able to find the rung in life to get me beyond broke and drifting.
I think I am still looking for someone to be a mentor. It is something my dad never was. He, if anything, had a goal of hallowing me out with abusive context. I can count one occasion where he helped me in a place where I felt stronger inside.
I joined the military early on and spent 6 years doing something I loved. But, for stupid reasons, I bailed on that because I was looking at the green grass in the neighbors year. I let someone else talk me out of something good and frankly I have had to relive that regret over and over to this day. Not just the refret of leaving the Air Force like I did, but it seems I was destined to relive the scenario over and over.
It might have been over a relationship, job, decision to do something usually ending up with me making the wrong choice.
My step dad told CMonster once: “Scott will do what Scott wants to do…” which might sound stubborn. But more times than I could count I made a decision based on someone else’s logic I ended up regretting it. If it was a decision based on my own bad choice then it was a lot easier to live with.
I know who I am: Soldier, Loyalist, Community Activist, Human.
I know what I do best in the right circumstances: Love, Lead, Create … in my humble opinion.
More Crazy Dreams
I have been having some weird dreams again lately. Nothing too freaky, but Salvador Dali might appreciate the visual anyway.
Dream #1
The night of my last post about my dog that passed, I dreamed about him. Well, my interpretation is that it was really about him. I dreamed I was unpacking some stuff from a year before and lost in a bundle of old clothes was my dog* severely dehydrated and near death.
*Note: the image was a small dog like a black poodle sweaty looking and matter with a gray tongue sticking out. This considering my Tom dog was a blonde German Sheppard. I did have a black poodle as a kid named “Cotton” who passed on at some point long long ago.
Now, I think my biological father (Jack) was with me in this dream when we found the dog who was trapped in the bundle of clothes for a year. We rushed to get the dog water. No one expected him to live a minute longer, but with the first sip of water he began showing signs of life.
Apparently he started getting healthier and at one point morphed into Charlize Theron in the same sexy dress she wore in the Chanel commercials and told me that she/he had been waiting for me to return. I think that was when I woke up, because it was bizarre.
The dog collar I mentioned in the previous post… well, I picked it up again yesterday before I left and considered taking it with me, but could not. I felt like it needed to stay. In some way I think my Tom-Dawg is still watching over my mom.
Dream #2
Well, this might be a few dreams running together from last night. They seemed to take place with me in prison.
In one part I remember being in a prison (I knew intellectually it was a prison in the dream) but it looked very industrial and sciFi. I was looking out and could see the sunset.
My Biological father and his wife
And finally, I remember being in an industrial style prison space like I mentioned and somehow being responsible for killing my biological father (Jack again). I was accused of killing him and in the course of the accusation I was wearing some kind of wrist band that held arrows in it and it misfired shooting arrows all around the room. I think I ended up shooting myself and causing some kind of flesh wound. So weird.
In a whole other part I remember being in the yard of a classic prison and seeing all kinds of things going on. People were plotting and committing small crimes, right out of Orange is the new Black, all around me. I saw someone being paid a half bottle of booze to kill someone. I saw a drug deal, I saw contraband being smuggled in. And in this case everything was in black and white.
and a little venting….
I am sitting here having gone through UrielsJournal.Com several times with quite a few updates. I tried to refine this thing I might have lost control of and lost site of… ya know what I mean.
Scott Aug 1966
I kind of do the same thing with me. I lost myself as much as I lost track of what it meant to be living. I also find myself being reflective of where I am and how I got here. I cannot blame my parents.
I know I blame a lot of my personality problems on my father. As fucked up a human being I thought he was, I am left often wondering about him. Who he is now? Yet, I doubt he has changed much. That story has been told here enough. [#jack, #father, #failure] [post: letter]
My mom is a warrior. She is fighting on through life and she takes good care of my step-dad even though she faces a lot of criticism. But, she is my foundation.
When I think back to my childhood there is a lot of blank spots. I see my mom as this hard working woman who took a lot of shit, but worked her way for retirement and got what she wanted (well, sort of). She gave it to me once or twice as best she could to keep a fucked up kid like me in line.
Family Shot: Me, Dad, and Uncle on my moms side
My dad on the other hand… most of my memories of Jack are very negative. There were good memories, but they were torn up in the mess.
Why have I blocked out so much of my childhood and why do I remember it as if it was torn up and left in small pieces on the floor? I sound like him when I talk sometimes. I hate that about me.
My laugh is like hers. My relationships are like hers; a least in my approach. I feel like I have no friends and am alone; which I think is a lot like she might feel.
Now, my step-dad on the other hand is a good man and a positive influence in my life. I really only have pleasant memories of him and only learned of all his medical problems this year. I cannot believe my head was so deep in the sand.
Me and Mom
Narcissism or not I am trying to live my life the best way I can. I am not worthy of myself and I am afraid that in my wake other people could get caught in those current and be dragged down. I really hate myself sometimes and would gladly be done with me. I want to do good things for good people and yet it feels like everything and everyone I touch turns to ashes eventually.
The above movie link …well, it got me thinking about Jack. I don’t hate him. He is the cornerstone for the dysfunctional part of me… maybe. As much as I try to be a better person. To be a good friend. To be a good partner. Good son. Good human. When his voice comes out of me it all turns to ashes in my hands. I guess I do blame him.
Update: 5 Minutes Later : A friend posted this on Facebook
Yep, it made me laugh and finish with a light sigh. Perspective?
a letter to Jack K I will never send
It’s been a while since there was any communication and it is probably better that way as long as things are the way they are. All the reasons it seems you, Sandy and Lynn seem to think I walked away are whatever you can imagine. I know the things I heard are wrong, but it is what it is.
I decided to just let go and tell you I think about you quite a bit, but based on life experience so far it’s not worth hoping to anticipate any further relationship in this lifetime.
That day I woke up and realized you and I will never be the same members of any kind of loving family was not the same day I lost you as a dad. While you were still a father who still showed some level of compassion I now know I lost you when I was about 13 with divorce and soon after the final grave stone seems to be the day you met Beth; of all things.
Subsequently in the years before I joined and left for the Air Force in 1983 you told me:
- you (to me) will never be worthy of carrying your last name (thankfully it dies with me anyway)
- you (to me) will never amount to anything and I am worthless
Geez, just those few things were worth three years of therapy that at some point I thought I got past and when in a bout of self pity realized just how much your voice was still in my head.
That day, a few years ago when I hung up the phone after our conversation I realized that everything was wrong with this toxic and sick relationship. It would never be better. In recent times I also began concluding that the problem is really in me: the damage is inside of me and it is my responsibility to get past THAT and find my future and my voice.
If I emulate anything that is like you I try and change it; to kill any part of you inside of me. You voice, your thinking, your being is like acid to me and I can’t hope for a future that has you or your daughter in it. You are definitely perfect for each other.
Say what you would about my mom, Sallie, but she has been a pillar of steel and survived and thrived and shown more love and backbone than you ever did.
As for your deluded and self-involved daughter her sad soul has to deal with the lies she said about me. So good luck. Goodbye. I am tired of fighting your voice, your self-involved bullshit. I HATE how much I am like you in so many ways. I really do.
Full Moon Tonight: New Start?
I made no secret about the self improvement things I have been working on since the beginning of the year. Books, practices and more. I am not faced with putting that into action and actually making something out of my life. It is mother-fucking hard to figure out what is right.
Seems like I feel a lot of resistance in any direction I go in, but I am not unawares that success does come with a price. Nothing, they say, is easy. But a lot of it may have something to so with the way the brain works – connecting to the soul – connecting to the chain that links us all as beings on this planet.
I watched this video twice this week (well the whole movie) on Netflix and have some to a lot of realizations in my thinking that seem to be working against me. If you have seen some of my gripes, many of them are addressed right here in the presentation.
- my uber-dysfunctional relationship with my father and how I see him as really fucking me up as a human being in my life and the mess I have been seeing myself as…
- “if it weren’t for bad luck you would not have any luck at all” my mom said to me; not in a mean way but damn if it did not seem like it was true.
So what do I do with that and look forward? How do I resolved to live out whatever is left of my life in a way that is better and stronger and healthier? What is the catalyst to make that happen? part of it is to get over the fucked up shit Jack dealt me growing up and keep driving toward real goals.
- find out WHAT I am sincerely grateful for
- decide WHAT I want
- focus on making those things part of my daily routine; outlook, vision
- …and then?
I have to change a lot of things and many of them appear on the front of this web site. I have to let go and grab on to new things.
Bill Collectors
My mom called to say a bill collector looking for me called my biological sister looking for me??? I have not talked or communicated with her in decades.
Insane. I have walked away from some pretty awful family. That is my sister and my father.
Step dad Bob was a better dad than mine ever was. Ugh. See previous posts #father.
Anyhoo. Happy Monday!
Maybe it should also be noted I have no idea what this bill collector could be calling about. Sigh.
The road less traveled is I
I am a miserable human being on this planet these days mired down in what I think is everyone’s expectations of me. Not exactly making a great proclamation right now. I have almost never been that person… I tried not being anyway. I have walked to my own beat and I am one of
Everyone has told me I look very unhappy in this picture. Maybe I am just in denial?
those people who has a whole theme song in my head when walking down the street.
Can’t say I was the kind of person to walk the path most taken, and with that I think I was happier. I have been really struggling here in San Francisco because since I have lived here I have tried to walk the line thinking it would take me somewhere. So far I cannot say this worked out all that well.
- Mom: wants me steady and in a career and a happy life
- C Monster: wants a normal relationship with monogamy
Where is this guy from about a year and a half previous? Lighter in weight and baggage?
Can’t say coming here was a mistake. But somewhere I stopped living my life. The pluses and the minuses of that have not been obvious, but the signs were there!
Baggage
For about a year I have been seeing all kinds of signs I was doing the wrong things. I was not living for me. I am absolutely adrift in a construct of reality outside of self. I do this in so many ways that the tracks are lost in overgrowth and trees way the fuck over there (imagine me pointing off into the black forest).
I want my parents (Sallie and Bob) be be able to be proud. I love them absolutely and want to be there for them even though I can’t. They are elderly and struggling though they seem to get lucky once in a while.
I love C Monster and I am lucky to have someone who honestly and truly loves me back. But… there is still something missing. Not one of those huge things, but there is a switch inside me that is just not installed right.
Speaking of which, there is my biological father. I have virtually nothing inside me for him anymore. I had this fantasy that he and I would become father and son once again, but there are huge barriers:
- his abuse for all those years growing up = 3 years of therapy +
- his placement of my biological sister on a pedestal = more therapy
You know he spent much of my formative years telling me:
- I was completely worthless and would never amount to anything = never tell a kid that
- I was not worthy of his name = fuck you for that
So what do I do now?
It’s funny how the universe works sometimes and the messages that play in the brain… yes, as if someone somewhere something was sending a little reminder that this light could shine brighter once again:
- quote: “Fortune favors the Bold“
- quote: “Mired down in pettiness instead of stepping your shit up.”
– Season 1 Ep. 7 “Orange is the new Black“
A Song – This was stuck in my head two days ago at work
A Song – this was stuck in my head yesterday at work