Been a little while

Been riding the roller coaster of life. Processing emotions. Dealing with pain. Coming to realizations. The works.

A particular comedy special, Daniel Sloss’ “Jigsaw” put a lot of the stuff I am dealing with into perspective for me. I keep having ups and downs, but I will be ok.

So today’s topic. Sleep.

Christine and I have had separate beds, and for much of our 11 years, separate rooms…since the start. Why?

Well, she likes it warm and silent. I have a window fan or A/c all year round (I like it cold.) I run a floor fan and play rain sounds while I sleep. I also snore like a chainsaw.

So we never tried sleeping in the same bed, and quite honestly…I felt for a long time that it was ok.

Now that we are done, and headed to divorce…I realize that it was stupid. It is a level of intimacy that we missed out on. Cuddling until we fell asleep. Random night kicks. Waking up next to each other. We missed out on 11 years of that and I think it definitely did not help our bond.

There were not night time frisky adventures. I mean, sure…I could have woken up at night and snuck into her room, but I’d risk scaring the crap out of her and getting kicked/punched etc. Nothing says romance like scaring the shit out of your partner in the middle of the night!

Also, after whatever activities ensued, I’d have to go back to my room to sleep. It made the whole thing feel…temporary, now that I think about it.

So when (if) I end up in another serious relationship, I am not making that mistake again. We will adapt to however the other sleeps and compromise. If it means a couple sleepless nights from being too warm, or getting kicked a few times from a sleep sprawler…whatever. Worth it for that bond that comes along with sharing a bed.

Anyway, that was my thoughts for today.


There is more to life than paying bills and dying.

And I love you.



15 or so years ago, an event happened that left me numb. Long story short, someone I cared about deeply hurt me, and the morning after it happened, I came home from work, cried so hard that I literally pulled muscles in my chest, and went to sleep.

After that day, I was numb. I iced over. Shields went up, feelings were repressed and put in little boxes, shoved into the back of the brain attic and left to fester. No joking, I did not cry again until over a decade later, when my cat (Eddie) died in front of me. I didn’t even allow myself to fully feel that, as I plowed through a 6 pack of hard cider to stop it.

Last night, I sat in my darkened bedroom, listening to music, tears streaming down my face. My repressed feelings have filled all the boxes. The attic has overflowed, spilling out into the stairwell and the rest of the house, and a mouse has chewed a wire, causing a spark. The house is in flames, and the boxes are burning away, releasing their contents.

I post little song lyrics. Music videos. Little quotes from movies the resonated with me at that moment, screaming in to the void social media…like a surfer too tired to paddle back to shore, hoping a passing ship will throw him a life saver…

But the void doesn’t respond. The void clicks “like” occasionally, but sits silent and looming.

As I sat crying last night, trying to stifle it because A: I don’t WANT to feel this way. I don’t want to hurt like this and B: my “room mate” (future ex-wife) was in the room on the other side of a door, I pondered how simple it would be to not feel this way. How a 5.7 mm piece of lead, projected from the muzzle of a .22 caliber hand gun, is all it would take to stop feeling this way…the tears streamed silently.

Don’t worry, as bleak as that paragraph was, I would not do it. Ever. I would not rob the people I care about, who care about me, of me. It is not something I would, or could, ever do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t ponder it sometimes. Who hasn’t? Hell, today as I watched the sun rise over a frozen pond, the thought of walking out onto the ice that was clearly too thin to support me, crossed my mind. Slipping into the cold, murky depths…into silent oblivion, seemed almost comforting. Obviously I didn’t. I am here, typing this, sharing my darkest feelings, once again, on social media. Casting out the bait, time and time again, hoping for a nibble.

Also, I have therapy again Wednesday, and will be talking about all of this, so…there is that.

But in all this thought, all this feeling and pain…deep down in the quagmire…I realized something. Regardless of all the hurt, pain, fear, etc, and beyond the source of it all…deep in the darkest, dankest regions of my heart and soul…is love. Forgiveness, compassion and love. I am not, at my core…a hateful or spiteful person. It takes so much energy to hate, and to feel angry. It comes to many so easily, and too many pour a vast amount of their inner power and worth into such endeavors…but my tank isn’t even running on fumes. It is running on molecules…and is not designed for hate.

I am a being of love, forgiveness and compassion…and that is okay.

In the end, everything will be okay. I have lived through all my worst days until this point, and I will continue to do so…

Hopefully, in that time, I can make more discoveries like the one I made last night, as I cried myself to sleep…

Remember, there is more to life than paying bills and dying…

And also,

I love you.