Posts Tagged ‘loneliness’

Too Vague

May 26th, 2016

I had a lot on my mind this week but not everything on my mind ends up here. Otherwise this website would be updated hourly, at least daily. I try to have at least twenty-four thoughts a day. Most days I make it.


My bedroom closet is a mess, so I’ve spent about a half-day cleaning stuff out of it. I have more stuff than I have space to put the garbage in. No nearby dumpsters. It’s not garbage. Just old stuff. My past is in this closet. I’m not a fan of my past. Or maybe my past isn’t that bad compared to right now and I don’t want to think about that. Either way, I’m going to try to take out at least one or two garbage bags of closet stuff per week.


I have a rack of old clothes that could be given away to a nearby place. Bags and bags worth. I guess I saved them in case I lost weight. Forget it. Too optimistic right now. Optimism is a luxury, like getting a flu shot.


If your parents raised you right, you’ll grow up and understand that your parents weren’t and aren’t perfect. They did and do the best they can but have flaws and problems. That is what separates family from all those other people in your life that you write off because of one thing they do. Or one thing they believe that you cannot bring yourself to ignore.


Is this about my mom? Not so much. She did a phenomenal job considering she got no support from my birth father. This is about YOU being the adult for once.


There’s another reason why I wouldn’t want to be a parent and it’s been under my nose the whole time: that I would let my children down so often that they ceased to believe in me. I hate letting people down anyway, never mind potential offspring.


There’s so much more to say but not here. It involves other people and their business, and that would be not be fair to them. Moments when you need a friend to talk to, a shoulder to lean on.


But I end up being the shoulder. I’m always the shoulder in the end. One of you just be my damn shoulder for a little while. You know who you are.

It’s Difficult

September 11th, 2015

I am moving in with my mom soon. I think I’ll be moving in with her and my stepfather next month. We want to get me moved in before the holidays start.


I have lived in Fordsville most of my life. I moved here when I was in kindergarden, then moved away for a year. I came back when I was in second grade and lived here all the way until I was nineteen when I moved into a WKU dorm. I lived in Bowling Green for three years. I lived in Los Angeles for about twenty months.


I will be leaving Fordsville, but more importantly I will be leaving this trailer which I have been in since 2003. When I got back from L.A., I moved in with my grandfather and my cousin. My cousin George got married and started a family. My grandfather passed away last year.


September used to be my favorite month. I always loved the weather cooling down and the leaves changing color on the trees. I loved the brisk feeling at night and I loved how pretty the days were without being indescribably hot.


I used to love September.


The last five weeks of my grandfather’s life was spent in a hospital. He was in pain and got surgery for a hernia that had been bothering him for some time. His body, which was already in decline, went through its’ final stages.


My mom’s birthday last year, we both sat with him in his room. He and I sang “Happy Birthday” to her. He sounded tired.


The hospital supplied us with beverages and snacks as we sat and watched our patriarch on his death bed. If you go to the hospital to visit someone and walk by a table that has snacks, cokes and coffee in a pot, don’t swipe a soft drink or anything like that because that stuff is reserved for families who are watching a family member in their final moments.


September is so beautiful during the day. I looked out the hospital room and saw the grass outside and it was so green and vibrant. The sky was the right kind of blue and the sun looked warm and comforting.


The week before he died, I went with Mary and Jon to a WWE show in Nashville. I still talked as if I thought he could pull through one more time. It was a good show. We sat in the third row. I yelled at the wrestlers but I didn’t swear because there were kids around. I swore during the main event because it ended in a disqualification due to outside interference.


Jon passed away June 1st. I think about him every day. My grandfather has been gone nearly a year now and I still think of him every day. I sit in the trailer I shared with him and I want to leave. I want a new start and I’m taking it.


The old me would be embarrassed at having to move back in with my mom. I feel like a dog that’s been kicked around in the street and I don’t even care. I’m lonely. Living with people will be an improvement. I’ll have my own side of the house. My own shower. My own kitchenette. Mom will want to me to be her “Dancing With The Stars” TV buddy but I can probably manage that. “The Bachelor/ette” is where I draw the line.


Nobody comes to see me. This is still his house to everybody, only he’s not here. I can’t afford to see everybody and everybody has their own lives and schedules and it’s harder to make time. Nobody wants to see the empty spaces. I understand but I’m still here.


I can’t wait for October. I can’t wait to leave.