Yo! Ho! Ho! A Pirate's Life For Me!!!

Those of you that have followed my blog over the last 18 months know the pain and challenges I've endured. To those of you just now reading I will encourage to go back to my first post and start reading from the beginning. I started this blog to record the things that happened to me - to record a journal of my emotions. I did it thinking that the circumstances that landed me homeless, jobless, penniless, and hopeless made for and incredulous story because it is so much more stranger than fiction, and would indeed make for a great book I should write. Funny thing is that although the book has been started, I have found myself looking back and rereading these posts and finding new appreciation of the smallest things that life has to offer. Something wonderful has happened that can only be described as a dream come true that started 40 years ago for me. It is in fact a fairytale ending that I had formerly thought of as just that - a fairytale.

18 months ago I was abandoned and left homeless by the woman who had promised to be my wife. This on the heels of another woman, my ex-wife, putting me through 3 years of litigation and into bankruptcy. There is more details in the book, but the long and short of it is the ex-wife took damn near everything from me, and the ex-fiancé took everything else - literally everything else. So, 2 women, and a combination of their abuse of alcohol and/or drugs, their delusions, their lies, their attempts of complete and total character assassination of me left me in the gutter. I know I'm not without blame - it takes two to tangle - but I am still bewildered as to why these two human beings continually tried to utterly destroy the life someone they claimed to have loved. Someone I have come to know quite well as of late once said, "People are what are scary... people." And between the two of these women they succeeded in destroying me. To a point. And that is where the darkest chapter in my life ended as suddenly as it began. And that is where the chapter with a happy ending begins. Turns out that the characters driving this chapter have been there all along...

Upon landing into the darkest realm of the depths wherein I'd fallen so far, and feeling my soul gasping it's last breath of hope I felt the grasping of loving hands clasp onto me from above and pull me up into the light and the land of the living. The hands came not from the family of my blood, but the family of my waters. Waters that run far deeper than the fathoms of the Earth's greatest oceans. The waters of friendship. A clan that took me in as one of their own some 37 years ago and grew in their ranks over the years who have all somehow believed in me all these years and refused to let the hardest hits I've taken keep me on the ground. One way or another they have collectively helped me stand up again. They began as elementary school children in Rockwall, TX where we all grew up together, and then grew in their ranks in Fort Worth, TX in a small Texas Wesleyan University Theatre Department. My lifelong friends. My life giving waters. My Guardian Angels.

This is a love letter to you all. To those of you that arrived within minutes of me finding my mother a victim of her own hand, and growing up far faster than you ever should have as you gave comfort & shelter to a shattered 16 year old and a confused 5 year old who couldn't understand where Mommy was - all of this in a home devoid of adults. To all of you collectively closing down the High School to attend her funeral and standing with the entire school beside me and holding me. To those of you in a fine arts auditorium who made me one of your own 27 years ago and gave me the courage to believe in myself by believing in me and staying with me every step of the way on my life's journey since that day. And to all of you who gave without asking when I woke up one day and found myself with nothing fighting for my own very survival. And especially to the one I affectionately refer to as "Puddin' Cup" now from the initial care packages of food you gave me so I could eat a meal when I had none and no money to purchase any - each of which always had a pudding cup packed inside with the occasional snicker doodle cookies. As well as the wing you took me under giving me a roof, a bed, and sustenance when I had none which kept me off the street and out of the elements.

By the grace of God you have all been there through the years. You have been the life sustaining waters that have kept me going for almost 40 years. You have continually put me back together when I've been broken. It has been said that blood is thicker than water. But rivers run eternal and oceans run deep whilst blood coagulates or clots. Your waters have carried me to a place, ironically, where I take the helm of a ship of dreams tomorrow. And I wouldn't be here without each one of you!

Cast off me Hearties and hoist the sails
Ye all know how much I love you?
You're about to sail the Seven Seas
With Blackbeard and his Crew!

Please know how much I love each of you!!!

And I'm carrying you all with me on this voyage into exciting and unchartered waters!

I am so alive!!!

Day 253 - 9 months to term... Stillborn......

Day turns into night... Night divides the day... For weeks at a time... And the darkness falls again... With the eternalness of a death spiral meeting me upon each sunrise....

All that remains is the pain. Sleep has given up its loving embrace to quiet my mind. Food is a luxury item donated by the kind hearts of others. Family is nonexistent. If it were not for the love of friends I'd have aborted my "rebirth" months ago... Long before the 3rd trimester of hopelessness found me shrunken and so broken... Dwindling down roughly fifty pounds from where I was in October....

The car is dead...

I am again homeless...

I am jobless...

I am penniless...

I am hungry...

I am sleepless...

I am so tired...

Joy is fleeting...

And if it were not for the love and kindness of a dear friend I would have nothing at all...

Dark thoughts cloud my mind as I lie sleepless in my nightmare....

I still tell myself that the sun will indeed rise each day, and with it is born a new opportunity for another chance at life...

But lately the day sneers at the rising sun with the breath of Hell, and another chance at life lies stillborn...

I need my Angels...

Come fly to me and pick me up!

11:11

Day 93 - Suicide Solution?

"Wine is fine, but whiskey's quicker

Suicide is slow with liqueur

Take a bottle, drown your sorrows

Then it floods away tomorrows

Away tomorrows

Evil thoughts and evil doings

Cold, alone you hang in ruins

Thought that you'd escape the reaper

You can't escape the master keeper

'Cos you feel life's unreal, and you're living a lie

Such a shame, who's to blame, and you're wondering why

Then you ask from your cask, is there life after birth

What you saw can mean hell on this earth

Hell on this earth..."

Leave it to me - the consummate drama king to quote the lyrics from a man who boasted about snorting a line of ants. But then again, who am I to judge?

Before you all call the authorities, let me put your minds at ease. I don't plan on offing myself. Yes, that thought has been front and center in my brain today, but I've lived through the fallout. I won't do that to anyone else. Nor am I intending on drinking myself into a stupor. 1 or 2 bloody maries, yes... Stupor, no. Drugs, no. Besides, it is Sunday and not only are the liquor stores closed, but I couldn't even think of where I could find illegal substances in a place I've been away from for 25 years! Besides, I'm broke & homeless. 

No, I'm angry and frustrated. There is a broken record on this turntable of life for me, and I have reached "meltdown mode."

So I write. Alone. In a strange place. Sober. 

I stress SOBER because I have been accused very recently of being an alcoholic. 

I am not an alcoholic. 

My Father is an alcoholic. 

My Ex-Wife is an alcoholic. 

My Ex-Fiancé is an alcoholic and drug addict. 

I am neither. 

I am, however, in incomprehensible pain. 

And every day I tell myself to get through to another sunrise. And every day I do. I will cry myself to sleep tonight for the first time in a month. But I will also wake up to a new day tomorrow, just as I have for my entire life. 

I broke a Jim Beam bottle by accident a couple of days ago. It was about 3/4 full. I drank a little vodka with a Bloody Mary or two Thursday & Friday about 4 hours before I worked. Friday being an all nighter - pulling in the driveway at 8am Saturday morning. It was not the 1st time I worked all night to try and meet a monetary goal. I'm busting my ass 60+ hours a week to dig out of the hole I am in so that I can get a place of my own again!!!

The difference now is the perception of others. Others that care and worry about my well being. Of which I am grateful. Without those souls I would be completely lost. But, as I've said for many years: perception is one's reality. And my Demons tend to fuck with people's minds as much as they do my own. 

And it doesn't take much of them to bend reality towards perception. 

Whiskey bottle gone, small vodka bottle 3/4 empty, out all night Friday night walking in bleary eyed 8:00am Saturday morning, shaking, feeling ill, and sleeping 4 or 5 hours on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Hell, if I didn't know me I'd think the same thing. 

But reality is a far different galaxy from perception. And my reality is the stuff of fiction in that galaxy - far, far away... But, unfortunately, it is true... All of it...

The long & short of reality is that I thought I wanted a drink. I was alone and blue, and like an idiot my Demons & I thought we could find some courage by talking to Mr. Jim Beam. MY reality set in and advised otherwise. And as I went to move the bottle back to the bar it slipped and broke cleanly off at the neck of the bottle, spilling its contents on the tile kitchen floor. I cleaned up the breakage, mopped the floor, put the broken shards of glass in a double bag and into the trunk of my car. After plugging tires on 2 other occasions I felt it better to dispose of jagged shards of glass in a mall dumpster down the road, instead of in the driveway trash can. 

But perception makes me an alcoholic trying to hide alcohol consumption... Or so the Demons say...

After I cleaned up my mess I sat down and cried. My self loathing surged and I sat and cried feeling sorry for myself for a number of hours.

I opened a small vodka bottle and had a couple of Bloody Mary cocktails at that point. Yes, I gave in a little. I'm fucking human! I cried, got it out of my system, gave myself a pep talk, took a shower, shaved, combed my hair, dressed, cleaned the cat box, kissed Frances, and 3 hours later was out the door trying to put my best foot forward to make some money. 

Here's the thing - I drive for a living now. 

I DO NOT DRINK & DRIVE!!!

My Father had a DUI. 

My Ex-Wife had a DUI. 

My Ex-Fiancé had THREE DUI's. 

If I want to have a Bloody Fucking Mary HOURS before I drive, know that I am an intelligent enough human being to know the difference between .08 and sober! And if that doesn't suit you - tough shit! It wouldn't be the first time the truth has been obliterated regarding me, my character, and my life!!! My character assassination has more bullet holes now than an 80's action movie!!!

All I want to do is start my life over. I don't know if you that read these posts can fathom what it is like to start over at mid-life from literally nothing. No job, no home, no money, nothing! I work over 60 hours a week - 7 days a week - praying to God that my car can make it another month without service so that I can save enough money to put a deposit down on a shit hole of an apartment. But because my Ex-Wife is a vindictive bitch she-devil from Hell, I have been forced into bankruptcy. I have no credit because of her. I couldn't finance a TV dinner because of her. That makes it very difficult to find an apartment without $500 to over $1000 in deposit plus 1st & last month rent. Now that my Ex-Fiancé has stolen everything else I had left, I do not even have a bed to lay down in after I come up with a couple grand to even find a home. And the rooms that are furnished are slums not unlike where I had previously had BOTH a gun to my head and a knife at my throat. 

I hate my life at present. I am trying to change it!

The world is a cruel and rotten place. All I have is my character. And when that comes in question I begin to feel lost. And suicidal thoughts begin whispering in my head. Self loathing reaches a climax. I cry. I hate. I rage against the world. 

Then the little voice of reason pipes up in my head and says, "Have a Coke and a smile... Tomorrow we can give it another go! Close your eyes and rest. You can fight the world again tomorrow! Let your heart and mind rest. Until tomorrow..."

And the record on the turntable keeps spinning... And the needle hasn't moved in 4 months...

I'm terrified. For the first time in my life I am genuinely scared to death. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I want to be optimistic. And I will try to move the needle on the broken record again tomorrow...

But now, tears to sleep...