I Miss You

     One of my closest friends passed away a few months ago. Two days after Thanksgiving, as a matter of fact. He had contracted cancer and died soon after. Mark was part of my core group of friends. There were, at the time, four of us that all went to school together and all lived locally. At least one of us was with another of us, at minimum, five days or nights a week for the last seven years or so. This, without a doubt, is the hardest hit I've ever felt. That child inside of me has buried himself so deep that there are many days when I wonder if he's gone and left me. Fortunately, he shows his face often enough to allow me to feel he, and I, just need more time.

     The loss I feel with Mark is a loss I feel every single day. There hasn't been a day, since he's gone, that a tear doesn't roll down my cheek as he enters my thoughts. I am baffled by how much I miss him. Wait, that's not the right word, but I am surprised, in a way. I had a couple months to prepare, I had been trying to set myself up since the day Connie, his wife, told us the horrible news. When he died I handled it ok for a few weeks, I'm finding, however, as time goes on, it's getting harder instead of easier. I can only assume that it will get better. I really hope so. I spoke to Shrink about it, and though I was surprised she could understand me through my tears, said I had actually started to grieve. She said I had always talked about how I was always telling her how important it was to me to make sure I could help others that were going through this with me. That may be so, she is a pro after all.


     The now three of us that remain of the core are all really trying to keep things as close as possible to the way things were. We each realize that all three of us have our own way of dealing with it, along with all the other things that happen in life. We don't see each other as often as we did before and that's ok, I guess. We, myself included, have all been really busy, though, at least in my case, some of that busyness may be self imposed. I can't help feeling, and I know it's normal, that something's missing. As a group, we were complete. Well, we're not a group anymore, ok, maybe we are, just a different group. I, as well as the other two, feel as if we're missing a major piece of the whole that we were. This may be the way things are meant to be and, if so, we'll all just have to deal with it the best we can.

     I had a few private conversations with Mark in the weeks before he died and I made some promises that he insisted on. One, I've just been terrible at. I promised I'd be checking on Connie on a regular basis and I've failed miserably at it. I was texting every day or two at first but it's slacked off big time. I did send a text apologizing and Connie, as is her way, assured me that it was ok. I'll work on it, I really will.

     Mark, I miss you more than I ever thought I could miss anything in my life. I'm gonna steal a quote from a post on Facebook I saw the other day. It perfectly describes what it's like. " My memory misses you, it asks about you every day". Trust me my brother, every single day.

    

    

Silly Old Man

In the past, I written a few things about my grandfather on my father side. I've told of how he favored me over his other grandchildren and how it was accepted by everyone involved. I've also written about how all his grandkids, both siblings and cousins, were absolutely crazy about the man. One thing I've never spoken about is if he ever gave me any life lessons while spoiling me throughout my childhood.

I guess the reason for that is i never really felt he did. See, as a child, I never really gave much thought to the way he would talk to complete strangers and tell, what I believed, we're stupid jokes by an old man that really just wanted to embarrass me by also telling these unknowns how much he loved me and how special I was to him. His favorite joke, that he would tell anyone that would listen, was,again, what I believed, just another stupid joke about where he lived in Ecorse, Michigan. He would say, again to complete strangers, " What do they do in Ecorse when it rains. They let it rain. This was always followed by him laughing himself almost to tears.

A few weeks ago, while sitting in Shrink's  office, something hit me like a ton of bricks. What DO they do in Ecorse when it rains? Of course they let it rain. What else can you do? After the storm, they let it go. Something that I've been trying to get better at every day over the last few years. I think he was, in his own way, trying to give me a life lesson.

Silly old man...

The Circle Of Life

         My father is moving to East Lansing after living in the Chicago area for the last 39 years. He was born and raised in Ecorse, a suburb of Detroit, married, had kids and got divorced, all in the same metro area. The only time he lived away from Detroit, up to the age of 42, was while he was in the army back in the 50’s. Detroit is my fathers’ hometown.

         He moved to the Chicago area in ’74, started a new career and did relatively well while working towards retirement. During the years in Illinois, he lived in some very nice places, made a number of friends, ate in the finest restaurants and traveled the world. All in all, not a bad gig for a guy with no formal education in an industry that, though flourishing at the time, was rather frowned on by society. Honestly, he was afforded to live a life far beyond his, or anyone’s with his background, expectations.

         So now Dad’s moving home. I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his head. He’s 81 years old and not in the best of health. He’s coming back to a place where professional success eluded him, a place, he said a number of times, that he never wanted to return to. He’s also returning to a place that three of his four children, three of his grandchildren and a great granddaughter live. Even though he never really paid much attention to any of them over the years, it’s still gotta give him some level of comfort just having them around.

         I really believe, in his head, he knows he’s basically coming home to die. He started it here, he’ll finish it here. It kinda makes sense for the kind of guy he is. Never allowing anyone to get too close and incredibly unattached emotionally to all around him. Coming home, I think he realizes that even though he wasn’t around for the family he desperately needs now; we’ll rally around and make sure he isn’t alone in his final years. I don’t believe any of us will be there because we’re crazy about the guy, that’s a whole other story, it’s just another example of doing the right thing. I can’t help that whenever I think about this I hear the song, “The Circle Of Life” in my head. He’s coming full circle, he’s allowed that journey. How could it possibly be a bad thing to help him along to the finish line?

         

The Angst Of It All

I live my life in fear. It's unbelievable, when I sit down and think about it, how many things I've convinced myself I shouldn't attempt or can't do for fear of failure. I can remember things from as far back as Kindergarten where, if I had just spoken up, things would have been different. At that age I would think not speaking up in adult situations would be normal. I'm not talking about a kid that's stubborn. I'm talking about someone that fears what others may think or say.

 I'll give you an example of something I remember; On my first day of school the teacher was naming the months so she could write down our birthdays. She said my month and I wasn't listening. I heard her say the following month and I, knowing she had already said my month, stood up for the new month. I told her the date and let her write down February 24 as my special day. As the date got closer I couldn't gather the nerve to tell her of my mistake. So, for my Kindergarten year, the class celebrated my birthday on the wrong date. I know, it's no big deal, but the point is how easily  I could have corrected the mistake if I had just spoken up.

I've been diagnosed with what they call Social Anxiety. For me, as I've written about in the past, it's a little different from  what others that have this condition deal with. In most cases, when I'm out and about, I'm fine. It's getting there that almost kills me. As soon as someone asks me to go somewhere or I'm invited to some place, my mind immediately starts gathering thoughts of how to get out of going. It can be as simple as getting a call and told to come over a friends house. I'll give the quick response of, I'm on my way and hang up the phone. Immediately I'm getting thoughts in my head about finding a way to get out of going. The more people that are wherever I'm supposed to go, the more nervous, if that's even the right word, I am. 

When something is planned in advance, and I'm invited early, I'm just a wreck. The entire period of time between invite and event is pure torture. All I can think about is how people will look at me or what they'll say about me. Ludicrous? Of course. Real? More real than you can imagine.

 I've found that if I'm early enough to anything I can stake my claim, as it were, and be prepared when others arrive. I just need to get the lay of the land, if you will, and I'm fine for whatever comes up. I just need to have some semblance of control over the situation no matter how little it actually is, and I can pretty much run the room. I'll easily lead conversation, make some jokes and actually be rather gregarious. I love when I'm in that moment and I know how ridiculous it makes all the fears seem. It doesn't change the fact that the fears are there and have a hold on me.

It was getting better for a couple of years, thanks to most of you guys. Recently though, It's returned with a vengeance. I missed the holidays this year simply because I couldn't get myself over to families places. I feel so empty on those days, it's incredibly lonesome. I've taken the proper steps to try to deal with the issue. Seeing Drs. and doing new meds, I'm sure it'll all help. 

Even with the help though, the fear is always there. I think that's the part that bothers me most. I can't stop thinking about it while it's happening. I become almost intrigued by the fear. Its like I need to figure it out, to understand it. Ugh! Shrinks right, it's exhausting being me.

Years End.

As another year comes to an end I, like many others, take time to reflect on the days gone by. 2012 is a year I'd just as soon like to forget. Yes, there were many people and things that were very kind but the bad easily outweighed the good.

I've had the scratched cornea, detached retina, my car blew up, this whole blacking out thing and to top it all off, I was robbed while working in the city. Not a year to celebrate indeed. I gotta figure I got all the garbage behind me and I'm kinda due for a good year. If not, oh well, I'll still have my dog and my chair.

I'd be remiss if I didn't say there were many good times in 2012. There were times of great happiness. I happen to have some of the greatest friends anyone could ask for. The patience and kindness they've afforded me can never be paid back though I'll go to my grave trying.

I've made many new friends this year and I'm always thankful for that. I've also lost some along the way and, though some I'll easily get over, there are others that I'll feel the hurt for many a day. Either way, life goes on. I'll still go to bed each night and wake in the morning and try it all again. Sometimes it'll work for everyone and sometimes it won't.

I'll still be the emotional wreck I've always been and I'll always share way more than I should and, though it may make others a tad uncomfortable, it's who I am. I will say, as I have many times over the years, I'm working on it.

I wish each and every one of you a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year. May your every wish come to fruition. As I have each year, I do ask one thing from all of you. Please be nice to each other. Imagine all the smiles you can create just by doing that.

Where Did He Go?

Back in 2007 I wrote a post about my uncle that had passed away. His wife, my aunt, passed away yesterday. She was my Father's sister and, when we were small, we would see them on a regular basis. They lived in Detroit and we were still in Trenton. After we moved to Oak Park, and my parents got divorced, the family occasions became fewer and fewer. We'd see each other at family events but, as time passed, these events simply disappeared. The last time I saw her, I believe, was when her husband died.

I truly believe, under normal circumstances, this would, as it should, bother me. Right now, with all the issues going around in my head, both real and imagined, it's hitting me harder than it should. I feel like that child inside all of us, that I've written about in the past, is just getting his ass kicked. I feel like I'm losing complete touch with him and I can't imagine living without him.

I've always said that the guy people see out in public is completely different from the guy who writes this blog. Lately, the public me has become more and more infected, if you will, by the blog me. I was always so good at separating the two but it's actually become an effort and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to take on that kind of fight by myself right now.

I've got to find a way to find that child again. I need to laugh, I mean genuinely laugh. I've always been able to find humor in literally anything. I need to get back to that place and it can't be soon enough. I don't like where I am in my head. Well, I've never liked where I am up there, but now is much worse than it's ever been. I need a break from whatever this is, at least for a while, and start playing in the immature way I was always able to do. I'm seeing the Dr.'s who I believe can help and I have to at least try to do my part.

 I need to find me again. I am the child I'm looking for. That child inside is, and always has been, the very best part of me. I can't do this without him. Sometimes I feel he's all I've got left and I've been letting him accept all the blows of life. He needs to come out and play. Hell, I need to come out and play.

My aunts funeral is Friday and I've been asked to be a pall bearer. I know I shouldn't be looking at this in this way but, I'm hoping I can bury some of the garbage in my head at the same time. I don't care where it goes, whether it has an afterlife or just squirms into oblivion. I need to find me again and maybe, if I can dump enough trash, perhaps a glimmer of the kid will show himself and maybe I'll be able to help him come out and play. I really wanna come out and play. You wouldn't believe how bad I wanna come out and play.

Even The Losers Get Lucky Sometimes

It's funny how many levels of loss there is in our lives. From the most inconsequential things to our greatest loves. You lose your keys or wallet. A little closer to home, in the "really doesn't matter" category, I seem to have misplaced my hair. We all know these things, in the grand scheme, truly mean little.

We lose things just by living. The innocence of a child is something we all admire. As the child gets older, through no fault of their own, that innocence slowly hardens as the bumps on the road of life take away a little of that incorruptibility, if you will. It's kind of an automatic process. Parents throughout history have called it growing up. Some accomplish it a little better than others, yet with a few exceptions, we all get there.

Unquestionably, the greatest loss is that of a loved one. The permanence of death brings an emptiness I've never understood how to fill. I miss my Grandfather, who died when I was 15, more and more each day and there are times I feel as if he passed away yesterday. Many have lost much more than I throughout their lives and I truly marvel at their ability to move on with their lives. Yes, I know, they have no choice, still, it's way above my ability to comprehend. It does make sense though. By that, I mean we all are destined to die. Nobody lives forever.

A type of loss that I've been subjected to over the last month or so is the loss of friends. Some close, some, I hardly knew. These losses are sometimes just as painful, to me, as losing someone close that had died. I understand I'm not the easiest guy to be around. I realize the effort it takes to be around someone as emotionally crippled as I am. Knowing these things doesn't make it any easier to someone like me. I always say to people how I know they think they have it bad, when dealing with me. I tell them they're fortunate that they can always go away. Me? I have to deal with me 24 hours a day. It sounds much funnier when stated out loud.

The bottom line is that I am who I am. My thoughts and emotions are the same as they've always been. I'm always being told that we choose who we are and we are the only ones that can change ourselves. Well, that may work for many of you but, try as I might, it doesn't for me. All I can really say is, if one is tired of my public whining, my constant anxiety over things that others find so difficult to understand or anything else I have always been so open about, well, I'm sorry. I have always been the first to admit that I'm way too honest about myself than I should be. If I knew how to turn that off, I would have as a child. If my writing is something you have found to wear thin, then stop reading. There really are very few out there that have had to deal with me in that state in person. I'm always amazed they have stuck around for so long.

I mourn the loss of these folks, truly. I will miss each and every one of them. I will also always cherish the time we spent as friends. I'd also like to let any of them know that I'll always be here. The yoyo of emotions will too. I guess, if we feel the worthiness, we have to accept the good with the bad. I will also say, as I've said before, I've always felt so fortunate to have you all in my life. However long you choose to stay.