A Deadly Mistake

The worst mistake man ever made was to speed everything up. As the old man in The Shawshank Redemption said before hanging himself: “The world went and got itself into a big damn hurry.” While at that time he referred to the abundance of automobiles and the sudden speed with which business was being done, today that speed has accelerated even more.

            Today, we live in what appears to be an instant world. Instant food, instant communication; the only thing that’s not instant is our transportation, and even then we’ve managed to speed it up in many ways and for many purposes, though our freeways remain jam-packed at rush hour and stand completely still any time a collision occurs. The Internet, it has been argued, has had many benefits, but perhaps if we step back and examine the evidence to these “benefits,” we will find that they are only beneficial in the context of a fast, instant world wherein any task can be done instantaneously as long as it can be done digitally. In fact, I would argue the Internet has done more harm than good, for despite the speed with which processes can be completed, people feel more like they have no time to do things—to create a coherent thought, to research a point as completely as it can be researched—even to relax and take a break from all the pressures that have resulted from the breakneck speed to which we have developed. The more we connect in the virtual world, the more we demand immediate results, the less we connect in real life and the more alienated we feel from our peers.

            Relationships build over time. They are a natural process like the rest of life. The Internet, in many ways, is destroying the very foundation of a relationship. No longer do people take time to get to know one another. They group together online and share things, but often times when someone shows a point of view that disagrees with the group, the person holding the opposing position is ousted from the group itself. The more connected we feel in the virtual, instant world, the less connected we feel to and within real life. People don’t touch each other as much anymore; their fingers are too busy swiping and tapping screens, pressing keys, clicking mice; their eyes are too occupied by a screen; their ears are so preoccupied with electronics that they fail to pick up sound waves that emanate next to them from partners, family members, friends, colleagues, etc.

            Naturally, one might ask me, “If that’s your argument, why do you use the Internet?” The answer is simple: I grew up with its development. I began using computers in 2001, at the age of 9. I played the hell out of The Sims and I spent more time online than I did talking to my family, every chance I got. Suddenly, the world seems so much bigger for the addition of the World Wide Web, and so much smaller when we remain rooted in reality. My experience in the military expanded the world greatly for me, and also showed me that as big as it gets, it is only so big. The thing is, I think that’s okay.

            Our population on this planet is such that there is no way any one person can meet every single other person on the planet. Still, I think that our goal in life should be to make connections, to communicate, to learn and grow from one another. Our purpose should not be to drive a sales bargain, to find the bottom line of a deal, to cheat and swindle our way to the top of an imaginary ladder or the front of an imaginary race. The Internet has done me much good in my life, it is true, but to connect this to what I said before, I would wager that the benefits I have experienced have been a direct result of the desire in our society for immediate results. Research papers are due in just enough time to find as many sources as possible, and most of those sources today come from the Internet rather than a library. Printed books are going out of style in favour of digital copies that can instantly be downloaded, eliminating the need for people to get out in public and interact with other bookworms in shops, or shopkeepers themselves.

            Pokémon GO was the best technological advancement in gaming since Ingress. It got more people outside than did Ingress, and even now, as it continues to update, people can come together within the game, make friends, and trade Pokémon. These are new developments and while I can talk all day long against technology, I can also talk all day long in support of it, because this kind of development is just what we need to get people outside and interacting with one another in real life again. Further advancements must be made, however. We cannot allow ourselves to be limited to these games to explore the outside world and meet people face-to-face. The problem still exists that everything in this world today is moving too fast.

            People today are literally working themselves to death. This phenomenon has been reported by Forbes in this article, and Time covered it in their own article. It seems that overwork is most common in Japan, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the cardiology-related deaths in America are caused by the stresses of overworking.

            It’s time to slow down. The Internet may have many uses, but it’s so large it’s literally uncontrollable. There are proxies and workarounds for the most censored nations. Truly, unless a person lacks a connection, the Internet is nigh unavoidable in today’s age. Still, I think its development was in many ways a mistake and I wonder how we might be able to change it so that it could be used more primarily for research purposes, or more accurately, how we might slow down the frantic rat race of our society while maintaining the use of the Internet for all the good it does us.

New Year's Eve, 2017-2018

            It is amazing how much can change in the span of a year, or even six months. This time last year, I thought the house I was in would be the house in which I would stay for at least two years, if not longer. By the time my birthday came around, I knew that would not be the case and I was not happy about it, but I remained hopeful and optimistic that everything would work out with the family I thought I was creating.    

            Now, 2018 looms on the morrow’s horizon and everything is different. Everything has changed.

            I entered 2017 as optimistically as I have entered the past few years—with hopes, telling myself that this would be my year. Nothing would stop me, nothing would come in my way, this would be my year to get my shit together, figure out my life, and move the fuck forward with real goals and real progress.

            When I made that resolution, I had no idea what it would take for it to come true. When they say, “Be careful what you wish for or you just might get it,” they are not kidding. I have come to the idea that when someone makes a wish—an earnest, true wish—it is released to the Universe and the Universe will grant that wish. The catch is that the wish will never be granted the way you imagine it to be. Never.

            As it turned out, 2017 was difficult, but ultimately I have met much of what I wanted to do. My blog has not remained as active as I had set out to make it, but given my limited audience, I’m not really hurt about that. I know that as I take my time getting all of my ducks in a row, blogging will fall into the pattern of routine. I have been journaling again, nearly every night, before bed. I write down my innermost thoughts and feelings, those intrusive things that come unbidden to my mind and would linger, festering, if not for the release of ink into paper.

            The year draws to a close and as the end, and a new beginning, draw nearer, I find myself reflecting on my own thoughts yet again. I did not imagine I would be in another apartment, nor did I think I would still be renting. I never dreamed that I would be alone with my beautiful daughter. I know a handful of people who have managed to purchase homes, moving forward with life in that typical way that our society deems normal and acceptable. People with whom I went to high school are getting married, having babies, and purchasing houses as if we still lived in the Golden Age of American Financing (also known as the years during which income taxes on the highest income bracket were over 90%). When I compare myself to them, I think I am somehow coming up short on my potential, that somehow I am not living in the timeline I was meant to and instead I am in many ways retarded—lacking in some crucial fashion that others are not.

“People with whom I went to high school are getting married, having babies, and purchasing houses as if we still lived in the Golden Age of American Financing.”

            As 2017 ends and 2018 begins, I find the futility in making such comparisons. It does not do to compare myself to my peers in this way, for my journey in life has been nothing like theirs. These people lived in nuclear households, having both parents and full siblings with whom they lived stable lives and learned how they belong in this world.

            While my peers had stability, love, support, and the sense of belonging no matter what, I had other issues to face. My parents were never together; they were never married and they never lived under the same roof. My mother had four children, each with a different father, and my own dad fathered his second child when I was 20 years old. My family is wrought with mental illnesses, including depression, anxiety, and dementia (in old age). Those who were my peers and suffered similarly became people I called friends, but even then, I felt as though I didn’t belong.

            Ultimately, realizing the differences between myself and my peers in terms of what has led each of us to this point in our lives helps me to realize that I cannot compare myself to them, nor can they do so to me. I have a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment at a lower monthly rental rate than any other apartment complex or house within 100 miles. I am located conveniently close to my school (I can ride my bicycle to class), with my daughter’s new preschool within walking distance of our new home. The mall is within walking distance of our new home, and my best friend lives a mere 5-minute drive away.

            So, I am in an apartment. I have less square footage to maintain than my peers with full-size houses of their own. I do not need to worry about paying for my own garbage disposal, water usage, or sewage service. I have no HOA fees to pay, nor property taxes. I may be a single mother now, but I have friends who come to see me and I have friends who invite me out to do things. My daughter is developing much better than she was, six months ago. Her speech has vastly improved, and it has become clearer even in the mere month during which we’ve lived in our new place.

Happy New Year!

Thoughts and Memories

Memory may be imperfect,

but mine lasts a long time.

Some things I remember,

some are lost along the line.

Still, never in my wildest dreams

did I imagine something like this.

Never would I have considered

Taking another swing after a miss.

“If at first you don’t succeed,

try, try again,” said our old friend,

a quote I failed to take to heart

from our Founding Father, Ben.

Now, though, I look around,

bemused and wondering what I see.

Uncertainty and anxiety, my friends,

and the results of severe PTSD.

My memory is long, and I

remember vividly how we

fit together and you inspired

romanticism in poetry from me.

Still, memory is broken in places

and I find myself wondering

just who it is you’ve become, now,

and I can’t stop pondering.

Tinted Glasses

You perceive of me only what you wish to see,

but I’m a human with flaws, like you.

Like him, you’re quick to say, “It’s not me;

it’s you, you’re wrong,” but I can see through

it now; things will play how they must be.

At the end of the day, see, I have my crew.

How many close relationships does he keep?

Tones would change if you knew what I knew.

But you could never be wrong.

I recognize when I’m wrong, I write it down,

take note to make the needed change

and work on it every single day, through the frowns

that come when I’m feeling a little strange.

I’m learning every single day, yet like a clown

you recognize nothing of import, set a stage

to paint me as a villain all the way around.

To think I’d wanted to chalk ignorance up to age.

But you could never be wrong.

If this were a movie, we could flip; we could switch

perspectives, and maybe then you would see

the truth instead of calling me a rude bitch.

 Unfortunately, I can tell when it comes to me,

there’s nothing you want to see but that which

makes you pretty and helps you feel free.

So, then, like a disease, you pull at every last stitch

on my heart, doing your best to unravel me.

But you could never be wrong.

The meaning behind your words is so devoid,

I can practically feel your desperation

to control everything and monitor the noise

coming out of every radio station.

Your eyes glaze over, all you care for are coins,

ears plugged while you make accusations.

Your masks are so thin, it’s no wonder your boys

are so easily discovered, peeled like crustaceans.

But you could never be wrong.

Heaven forbid you see things through the eyes

of any person other than yourself,

but I won’t join in your pity-party or lies

or enable the bullshit to come back off the shelf.

I’m done with you and your slithering spies.

But you could never be wrong.

A Letter to My Former Husband

Dear Heartbreaker,

You don't deserve my thoughts or my emotions, yet you provoke me just enough to elicit repsonse. You know you do this because you're a Narcissist and everything you do is deliberate.

You told me you loved me. You told me you needed me. Then, without so much as wind of warning, you left me high and dry, wondering why we couldn't have gone to counseling to work through our issues. I was blessed to have our daughter with me.

You're a liar. Nothing you ever told me was true unless it was easily disproven, like your age, hometown, and other shallow information that only penetrates the peripheral layers of your self. Everything else was fabrication, deception, and manipulation.

I tried so hard to work with you. I did everything in my power to communicate effectively. Nothing was ever enough. You wouldn't stick to things you agreed to. You constantly told me things were "taken care of," but the moment we separated it was as though doors had opened and I was buried under the lies in the form of bills you'd left unpaid.

I worked up the courage to have you served. I thought to myself, "He told me he wanted to marry me all over again. This can be his opportunity to prove it." But, just like with bills, you proved that you're a liar, because you've never once asked me how I'm doing. You haven't once asked what I'm up to. When you first left, you ignored all of my posts about our daughter and our well-being. Now, you end every interaction you start with, "Deuces," and you spell it wrong.

My heart is broken, but I don't want your excuses anymore. I'm putting the pieces back together all by myself. You never once tried to help me put the pieces of my heart together in the first place; I simply had them taped in a group to try keeping the whole thing together in one place. Still, I think you took a piece or two when you went.

You can say whatever you want. You can give me the flimsy excuse that you "didn't have time," but I know that's a lie. All you do is lie and create bullshit excuses for your inappropriate behavior. I know what's real and what's not, since you've been gone, and you will never know how often my face leaks or doesn't over what I thought was supposed to be with you.

We were supposed to have a family. We were supposed to be an unstoppable force of love that would push forward and take the world by storm. Instead, you're a lazy piece of shit who wants to make excuses, lie on his ass, collect money he doesn't deserve, and spin tales of success that never happened.

I offered couples counseling multiple times. When I suggested it while we were together, you failed to follow through, just like you refused to drive me to my follow-up appointment after surgery and I totaled my car. Your response was less than sympathetic and I should have known then, like I should have known when you went behind my back to get formula for our newborn, that you do not care for me. You have no love for me. You have no respect for me.

Well, I have none of those things for you, either, anymore. Karma will find her way to you. I know you do a lot of innocuous tasks to keep her at bay, but she'll find you. She has her ways.

Sincerely,
The Woman Who Loved You Most.

Abusive Relationships: Parenting and Romance

There are very few things in this world that I simply fail to understand. It is true that in almost any case, if someone explains something well enough, I will understand it. I may not understand well enough to explain, myself, but I can at least grab onto the gist of the idea and go from there. Some things, though, do not allow such grasping of comprehension.

            I do not understand deadbeat parents or parents who keep their children from each other. I simply cannot fathom why anyone would make a child only to abandon it. I cannot wrap my head around any parent preventing the other parent from seeing the child. It boggles my mind when women stay with abusive men who demonstrate a clear lack of interest and effort—these women bending over backwards, rubbing the men’s feet, giving them head and poon, and otherwise doing everything possible to make these men’s lives easier when these men are doing nothing to reciprocate… I do not understand.

            Now, those statements are simple and broad enough to allow for easy argument. “People have babies on accident all the time.” First of all: How? Babies are not accidents. There are entirely too many ways to prevent pregnancy and even further options for terminating unwanted pregnancies for it to ever be an actual accident. Next, I could see someone saying, “Well, I keep my kids from their dad because he’s on drugs.” Okay, I get that. You don’t want your kid around an addict who is abusive. I get it. That is completely understandable. I’m on board. As for the women staying in abusive relationships, I’ve heard the other side for that, as well: “It’s so hard to get out of it because we really believe we do not deserve better, will never find better, or else there is the very real fear that he will kill us.”

            What I am not on board with is how some mothers will prevent their hardworking, more-than-willing-to-provide, wonderful fathers from seeing their children. There may be dads who do the same shit, keeping their kids from seeing their moms, but I get the distinct feeling that is much less common. What I am not on board with is deadbeat parents pretending to want a place in their kids’ lives, only to never call. I am not okay with a little four-year-old girl saying, “No, it’s okay, Daddy is probably busy, I’ll just wait for him to call,” when her mother asks her if she wants to call her dad because the little girl asked why he hasn’t called in a while. I am not okay with a mother telling her children’s father, “The girls are too busy to see you,” when the daughters are ages 4 and 1. Before school age, there is no such thing as too busy, ever. Then, when kids start school, there are always breaks. Winter break, spring break, summer break, weekends. What I cannot get on board with are women who reach out for help and do not take it when it is given—those women who continue to defend and make excuses for their abusers, saying things like, “He’s just so stressed out because of factors X, Y, and Z, he’s really not like this.”

            If you do not want children, use a condom or birth control. When that fails, as it does, use Plan B, spermicide, or run off to Canada for an abortion because we all know America is going back to butcher abortions within these next four years unless Angela Merkel appropriates the U.S. government for Germany. I wouldn’t complain, but I digress. If you have children, share the children. It’s okay for parents to split up. It’s okay for relationships to fail and for people to move on and find love in others. But there are things that are simply not okay.

            It is not okay to withhold your children from their parent. It is not okay for you to influence your children’s opinions of their parents. When you tell your little girl that her father is some kind of piece of shit, when that man was willing to support your ass to be a stay-at-home mom, you are wrong. When that man supplied you with your own cigarettes and never complained about you stealing the ones he had for himself, you are wrong for demonizing him. When that man was bending over backwards to make you happy, I disagree with you dumping him out of the blue for someone who is far less productive and has three additional children. Yes, that is quite the specific example, but they are specific examples that have inspired this post.

            It is not okay to treat your partner like shit. I cannot and will not tolerate my friends being treated worse than they deserve. When my friend tells me that nothing she does is enough for her man, I want to tell her to leave him, but it is against my spirituality to provide unsolicited advice. Therefore, I ask if she wants advice or sympathy. When she says she’s not sure, I opt for sympathy but slip in a word of advice to test the waters. I say things like, “I’m sorry you’re dealing with that right now,” and, “You deserve better, that’s bullshit.” My advice sounds like, “If you treated him the way he treats you, he would have left a long time ago.” I want her to see what I see and I want her to leave him if he’s not putting anything into the relationship. I simply cannot understand the mentality that makes someone allow anyone to walk all over them.

            I will end this entry with some good news. While there are these things that I cannot comprehend, I am grateful to spend time with friends. I took a high chair to Federal Way for my friend’s youngest daughter, then took another friend out to her neighborhood Applebee’s—on her dime, because I’m waiting for my check, but still. She needed the time out and someone to accompany her, so I took a friend with me and there were three of us. Even these good times, though, are marred by darkness around me. Deadbeat parents, withholding parents, abusive men… It is true that social issues are important.