When I close my eyes

Reflections on Those Moments in Time.... A story they said.  Please tell me a story Grandpa.  Reluctantly, shoulders pushed back, head tilted down, he spoke.  "I can tell you a story, but it will not be a happy one."  Tell us a story Grandpa, we don't care what kind.  He was the greatest story teller they had ever known.  Most Grandpas are, you know.  "As you wish," he replied.  He cleared his throat and held his head up high.

There were two brothers, Jack and Bobby.  They were both teenagers in a Gender Neutral Scouting Organization together.  They didn't always get along well.  Sometimes, they fought like cats and dogs.  But that never mattered, because they were family and would do anything for each other.  The best of friends, and the worst of friends.  They were a year apart and Bobby had been "the man of the house" since he was about 7.  His little brother looked up to him so much.  They were very good kids.  Always ready to help someone without a second thought.  They had great manners as well.  Bobby was looked up to as a leader in the organization they belonged to.

Bobby had to become the man of the house when his father packed up and left them.  He blamed it on their mother.  She was quite peculiar and somewhat off in the head.  One story was that she made the boys get dressed in front of her everyday, butt naked, so she could inspect them for ticks.  Another was that she would make them take medication, even ones that were not prescribed for them.  Or talk the doctor into giving them medication that would make them easier to manage for her, such as anti-anxiety or antidepressants.  Another was that she tried to beat the "demons" out of them with sticks, belts, or even a whip.  And they had no father to speak of.  He moved a couple hours away.

That's just some background to give you some perspective.  The boys had each other, and that was it.

One day Bobby decided to move away to live with his father.  New home, new school, new friends, and new problems.  He was no longer taking his antidepressant medication and became very emotional.  You absolutely can NOT just cold turkey quit taking that kind of medication.  That's when he began self medicating. Drinking beer and smoking weed. That's when things went terribly wrong.  He got addicted to illegal substances and broke into a house and stole some things to sell.  He was trying to pay off the drug dealer he owed.  He go caught and was arrested.  His parents bailed him out, but said it was his fault and they were not helping him anymore.

That's how I entered of the story.  He called me one night.  He was scared, and alone. He kept trying to make his normal jokes, but I could see right through them. I talked to him for hours.  He had a court date set up and no lawyer or anything.  He was living in a trailer in his fathers back yard.  His stepmom would not let him live in the house.  Going to high school and working part time to try and pay legal fees.  He was off all his medications and his brain was on full overload. He thought it was the end of the world. Going to prison was the only thing he could see in his future.

The conversation went on and I did all I could to encourage and reassure him it was not the end of the world. That his story was far from over. Especially, since he was a minor.  He could get some legal help from the state.  He could ask for help with substance abuse.  That by voluntarily seeking treatment a judge may drop all charges. He did have friends and family to help. That I understood and was not judging him.  That he could get financial assistance. That he could text or call me anytime.  I felt like we made some headway and he was moving in the right direction.

Where was Jack during all this?  Jack had his own problems.  He had been caught stealing money from a local business he frequented and sometimes helped out at.  He was judged very harshly by the peers and parents in his social circles.  They wanted the business owner to press charges against him with the Police, but the owner refused to. He only asked that he was paid back he $250 stolen from him. They realized there had been some money missing from the gender neutral scouting organization a month earlier and blamed it on him as well.  Then they blamed him for some other money missing from the church they met at, even though it was months earlier.  He admitted he had stolen from the business owner and completely denied the other two.  When he was pressed about the reason for stealing the money he said he only did it to help his brother out.  He said his brother was being threatened to pay the money he owed someone and he feared for his life.  Basically, he gave the money to Bobby to pay off his drug debt.

Jack was attacked viciously.  He was blamed for every penny and item that ever came up missing from the church and our group.  When I spoke up Nancy told me there was nothing worse than a thief and he should go to jail.  I pleaded with friends that he was just a child himself and needed guidance.  That they should be lenient with him and try to help.  At that point they began treating me like I was a plague.  All because I asked them to have some empathy for him and his situation.   They had many conversations about him in messenger groups and text.  It was a big secret rumor mill.  Finally, Jack was kicked from the scout group and the church he belonged to.  Totally ostracized by the very people that should have been there to help him.  He worked at the business part time and went  to high school in order to pay off his debt.  The owner kept him on as a full time employee after that.  The last time I saw him was a chance meeting at Walmart of all places.  He has a beautiful wife and a boy, named Bobby.

Bobby was in a pickle.  But it was something he could get out of with a little work and support.  I was sure of it. I was so sure I had saved up some money to help him out. I got a phone call from a friend about 2 weeks later.  He asked me if I had seen the paper.  He didn't say why, he just told me to look.  So..... I did, and I was shocked.  Horrified even!  FRONT PAGE!  Bobby had committed suicide.  One bullet ended such an amazing young mans life.  We heard there would be a service here for him that his mom was setting up.  She asked if some of the scouts could be pallbearers since he was a part of their troop for so many years.  Nancy hollered "NO! Absolutely not!" at the meeting.  She proclaimed him to be the brother of a scumbag and a thief and she would not let her son be any part of the service.  Several other parents agreed.  I pointed out it is not for Jack, the one you have labeled a thief.  It is for Bobby and his parents and other family.  At one time Bobby was like family to the other scouts.  Still she shrieked "NO!  You can do what you want to, but my family and friends will have no part of it."

So there we were, sitting at the church.  It was a closed casket funeral.  I gave his mother all the condolences I could muster.  I shook Jacks hand and neither of us could speak.  To my joy I saw a large group of scouts, about 12, walk in together.  I heard one of them saying "Do you remember that time Bobby........?"  They were trading stories about camp outs.  My faith was returning with every step they made.  They were not being led by adults.  They were there on their own, dressed in uniform for their lost friend.  Every one of them shook Jacks hand and hugged his mother.  Some of the adult leaders were there as well.

It was a nice small service.  A huge FUCK YOU to Nancy service. Someone I had considered a friend for so long, but could no longer stand being in the same room with. Maybe the kids are more compassionate and empathetic than we give them credit for. 

"Grandpa that was a sad story." Yes it is.  All stories can't be happy.  "What happened to Jack and his mother?"

Jack and his mom lost their house in a tornado and moved away several months later.  I still see Jack in town every once and a while.  I still see Bobby from time to time as well. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, or in a dream. That tall young man, with the big smile, holding the door for everyone and asking if we need any help on our way to the Scout meeting.  ;  His story is not over, as long as we continue to tell it.

Shame

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Damaged... Not Broken

"You can not break down what can't be broken
They can do all they can do but they can't break unbreakable
They scared to face the truth because they hate the view
They taste the juice, I hope it make 'em puke, I'm breakin' loose
Should I throw up the deuce or should I waive the deuce"

Lil Wayne Can't be broken

It runs through his mind like a Amtrack train.  Over and over.  A song by a artist so many love to hate, who preaches on the world.  Watching and waiting for the right moment to speak, but his lips can't move. The right words aren't there.  Are there really any words? It's just too much for him to see you like this.  Crushed by the pain.  Unable to move on.  Locked in a single moment in time where everything faded to black.  

Days have passed.  Yet the feelings remain.  The confusion, the sorrow, the enlightenment and the lingering depression of loss. Today is better, isn't it?  No smiling through the tears yet.  No lying to people about why your eyes are watering.  But the feelings are still there.  They are becoming internalized.  He sees that.  A moment of chill here and there.  You shake like a ghost is tickling your spine.  That brief hollow moment, where you find absolute despair.  You want to scream, but it just won't come out.  You have to swallow it back down and try to go back to work.  Stay busy and occupied.  Your mind is processing as fast as it can.  This is healing.  Your mind is reevaluating everything it thought it knew for a fact.  About so many things, you were wrong.  No joke, It's going to take a while.

The song.  It isn't about what you are going through.  It's what he wants to tell you.  He is proud of you for working through this.  Making the right choices and sticking with them. Walking in blind. Swallowing your pride and taking whatever came your way.  No matter how bad it hurt, it needed to be done.  Those were things that have haunted you for years.  Some of those feelings can be laid to rest now.  Some never will.  Others will be cherished til the day you die.  Locked up and put away where only you can find them.  The little monster inside will stand guard.  Always ready to fight for you.  Those feelings are pure emotion and give you the strength to stand tall against the darkness inside you.  That was her gift.  You are both better for it now.  Always remember you are never alone.

After all the years he watched you suffer.  All the pain in your life. Some caused by others and some by yourself.  You have never been broken.  Damaged yes, never broken.  Pick yourself back up and start again.  The armor you wear is a little bit lighter.  The cracks are starting to show.  Those cracks are a good thing.  It lets the emotions vent into the universe so you don't explode.  Stop holding it all in.  You are unbreakable.  No one can take that away from you.  And he'll be dammed if he lets you do it to yourself.  This is the process.  Wet, lather, rinse , repeat.  Clean yourself up, pull yourself back together, and get back in the game.  as time goes on you will understand more and more.  Perhaps you will even look back and smile that it happened, no more crying about what was lost.

Now it's time to stand up tall and get out from in front of this mirror.  He has seen enough of you for today.

CHANGE

Dude!  Don't even know where to begin. My mind is racing and I need some relief.  This blog was supposed to be just that for me, some relief from the storm inside my head.  All those thoughts that need to be sorted.  The feelings that just don't make sense.  Constantly searching for the when, why, how, and were life took it's turns.  Some for good, some for bad, and some that we can't even understand yet. That's where I am right now... trying to understand.  It always helps to write it down.  So that's what this is, a journal entry about how it got from here to there.

It started when someone asked me to write them a story.  They liked the way I spoke and wrote at times.  The images I used to convey my feelings.  I have never been able to make things simple in life.  I over analyze everything.  Add to it some ADHD, anxiety and depression and who knows what will come out in the end.  Going to the mall becomes an epic quest in search of new armor to fight the trolls living under the overpass.  That's where it came from.  A request, and then the realization that other people were reading them too.  And many times they shared that they had the same feelings and had faced the same demons I had (or was). 

People love stories and lord knows I have some good ones.  They love to be wisped away to another reality.  Even more important we are all seeking common ground.  Familiar feelings.  Justification.  None of those are the right words, but that one escapes me right now.  No one wants to feel alone in life.  No one wants to feel like they are the only ones that have problems.  Thinking "It's just me" is where we turn to darkness and hide things in the closet.  Then they grow into monsters and demons we have to fight for the rest of our lives.  But we still hide them the best we can from the rest of the world.  I always wanted so badly to know that I was not alone.  I have feelings, and I wear them on my sleeve sometimes.

Then it happened.  The ridicule.  The attacks.  The vicious nature of the angry, anonymous, human being who thinks they will face no consequences for their transgressions.  Being made fun of and called names after pouring your soul into something is definitely a real party pooper.  "You are a liar!"  I still see that one. It became a troll-a-thon.  If you are an active member of any forum, especially if you have been there for years, you expect a certain amount of respect and common decency.  I got none in the end, so I left.  I backed up all my current posts and left.  That forum is now long gone.

A few months later I tried posting a few blogs in a new forum.  But it was, in all actuality, too new to me.  I didn't know it's community and it didn't know me. Nothing felt right about it.  I literally felt like I was cheating on my former forum.... So gone again, I went. 

Then someone said go to Blogger.  You can do whatever you want and no one will care or mess with you.  So I did.  And I transferred some old things and wrote some new ones.  Then one day it happened.  I stopped drinking alcohol.  And I stopped writing shortly there after.  I had so much I wanted to say, but I couldn't dwell long enough to write it down.  I think all those years I was just self medicating to dull the painful memories I have carried.  "I drink because I am depressed, and I am depressed because I drink."  And it definitely helped me slow down my body and mind long enough to finish a entry.  I have quite a few more unfinished drafts than I do finished ones.  I am also an alcoholic, raised by an alcoholic.  Ahhhh, yes!  That vicious old cycle.  But his isn't about that.

I honestly don't like to read most of those old blog posts.  No one should.  Many of them are fueled by alcoholic rage, loneliness, and despair.  In fact some of them I even deleted.  But that was where I was.  That was the only way I knew how to deal with the hand I was given.  No regrets.  It's so easy to look back and criticize.  To tear yourself apart over things.  The woulda, shoulda, coulda of any decision made, or not made.  Those are the times you wake up screaming in the middle of the night.  And search for comfort to ease the torment.

This is a new day.  A new time.  A new me.  I am just thinking out loud.  Trying to slow down enough so my fingers can keep up.  Lots of things have changed, but many are the same.  This is just a simple form of self help.  A way to put things into order, from my perspective.  I have learned a lot in the last years.  I have learned even more in the last couple weeks.  Especially about perspective.  From outside perspective, which lead to a deeper understanding.  I learned a lot about who I am. I learned more about what light I have to give, and the darkness I need to overcome. I know now that I am willing and ready for change.

No Answer

Inside the outside.  Breeds the silent death.  Always.  It walks among us, unnoticed.  Powerful.  Like the dandelion blows away as the child's breath is forced.  Suffering.  Wanting.  Needing.  Feelings of hopelessness.  Running through the forest.  ALONE.  So dark.  Despair becomes a friend.  No answer.  All it would take is an answer.  He screams out the question again.  His voice is cracked.  Broken.  Eyes jagged and dull.  Worn down from the flood of years.  It comes again.  Hot, wet, and sticky.  Blood stains on the soul.  No end in sight.  Drying to a crust.  A hard scab hides the animal clawing it's way to the surface.  The chakra points burn for release.  Addiction.

A Long Night

A nice hot shower was exactly what he had needed. It had been a very long day and he just wanted to lie down for a while.  Just rest his eyes for a few minuites.  The towel hit the floor and he laid down.  The bed was so comfortable it felt like floating on clouds. The whole day just seemed to flash before his eyes. Slowly fading away as his eyes began to close. He rolled onto his side and started falling asleep.

He felt something very soft and warm touching his back.  Then a warm breath very close to his ear.  The breathing grew hotter and closer on his neck and he felt her body press firmly against his.  Then the hand on his shoulder and it ran lightly down his arm.  He was barely awake now.  "Is this a dream?" he thought.  It felt so real to him. She even smelled good.  Very familiar like he knew her.  Every part of his body was aching with anticipation of the next movement.  He felt her breasts pushing against his back.  So soft and warm. Yet Her nipples grew hard as her fingers lightly danced back up his arm and onto this shoulder.  She slid her other arm under his pillow and under his head.  Pulling him closer to her.  Her arms wrapped around him and he felt the chills shoot down his spine.  Every hair stood up as she pressed her lips onto his neck and began to kiss him.

It was soft and subtle at first.  Gently, lightly, slowly kissing up to his ear, flicking it with her tongue.  Then she pressed hard and she ran it down to his shoulder.  His nipples were so hard.  She brushed her fingers over them.  She began to suck on his neck as she ran his nipples between her fingers.  Her grip was getting tighter as she sucked harder.  Then she squeezed them so hard it hurt for a second.  She didn't let go.  She pulled him into her so close. She was so warm, almost hot.  It felt like his skin was on fire. He never imagined her being so strong.  He felt almost helpless.  He couldn't move even if he wanted to.  A bit of panic shot through him and he wanted to get up, to run away, but he also wanted more.  He needed more.  He had to know how far she would go.

His neck started to hurt from her mouth.  It was brusing he was sure.  He squirmed a little to get her to loosen up.  Tried to open his arms.  Pushing back against her.  She only squeezed tighter.  Her tongue started licking his shoulder.  Then his neck.  Pushing hard against the bruise she had made.  His nipples stayed so hard.  He pushed against her again, harder this time.  He felt her nails dig into his chest.  He pushed again starting to make space between them.  She dug her nails in an jerked him back so forcefully.   He slammed against her naked body.  She didn't give at all.  Solid.

"Uhhhh" When he hit her she made a soft noise.  He thought he knocked the wind out of her.  He felt her grip begin to relax.  He almost couldn't move from her fingernails.  I must be bleeding, he thought.  There was a hot, wet sensation flowing down his chest and onto the bed.  They felt like they were inside his skin.  It burned and tingled.  Her hands released their grip on his chest and started lightly rubbing down his chest, his stomach.  He got so hard in anticipation.  He wanted to feel her hands rubbing him.  Holding him as he throbbed.  Then she stopped.  He felt her nails again.  Running up his stomach.  Slowly, getting harder.  Hurting as they dug in.  His skin burned as they moved.

She pinched his nipples between her fingers.  Then ran her nails across them.  Her leg draped over his and locked in.  Her hands pulled on his chest.  She was forceful now.  Like she wanted him inside her.  Her nails sunk deep and he tried to jump up, but he didn't move more than a inch.  She had him and she was not letting go.  Then she spoke for the first time.  She had a deep accent.  Very deep and coarse. Even her voice was strong. The closest he could think of was a Russian spy he once saw on the telivision. "I have been watching you for a long time. I watch you work and I watch you sleep. I have waited patiently.  Do you remember waking up with my scent on your pillow and my cum on your lips?  Do you remember me?" He struggled to breathe.  Swallow the thought.  Her nails hurt so much he was paralyzed, but still he wanted more. "Yes," he breathed.  "Do you want to be with me?" She asked.  "Yes,"he whispered.

"I will make you mine" she said.  He felt her lips press down on his neck.  Then her hand slid down and wrapped around his throbbing dick.  Her other hand dug her fingernails deeper into his chest. Her teeth began to tighten onto his skin. He was sure he could feel her inside him. Draning him.  She stroked his shaft as she continued to bite down.  There was something warm and wet running down his neck and onto his chest now.  Mixing with the other blood and sweat  He had never felt so much pleasure before.  He started tingling, then his skin flushed. Tears started running down his face. He thought he was going to faint at any second.  He was afraid, but he completely trusted her.  She had come for him and he would cum for her......

Reflection

Sitting here this morning in total shock. A dam in both eyes just ready to crack and flood the valleys below. It is a morning of extreme sadness. In fact, it has been a week of it. Another great life has ended far too short. A man that would give the shirt off his back to help a friend in need. A fellow Jaycee, family man, business man and fun guy. My last memories will be shaking his hand as he offered me good luck in my job search. I had been laid off and even though I knew NOTHING about his business, he invited me to come in for an interview. We spent 2 hours talking and he showed me all the aspects of what they did. He actually taught me quite a lot that day. Even let me play in the dirt a little bit. Who doesn't like to play in the dirt now and then? He asked if we would like to come out to the lake and take a ride in his boat. Although we had already made plans for that weekend though, I really appreciated the offer.

Add to that finding out that a friend and a different family member are fighting a uphill battle with cancer and you create a very emotional roller coaster ride. I have often heard it comes in threes. This is all the proof I need. I am not a religious man. At these times I pray though. I pray that the families can come together and work through their respective tragedies. I pray that I am strong enough to help in any way possible, if they should ever ask.

Today I am asking myself to change. This is a confession of sorts. I have made a lot of promises I have never kept. They all involve people. We have all made them. A friend may say let's have lunch, come by and talk sometime, can you help me move a couch or call me. And we try, we do. But we are all so busy these days. So many things to be done. So many "important" things. Work related things, kid related things, family, pets, etc. Then you look up and you have lost contact with that person altogether, or worse, they are gone from this mortal world. It could be a person you grew up with, or someone you met online. Some are simply too far away to go see.

Maybe we are overwhelmed with life in general. I know I get that way at times. Some days I want to crawl up in a fetal position and hide. I seem to devote most of my time to working to pay bills. Then I end up working on those things I am paying bills on. Many times I look around and wonder how my life got this way. Things were never important to me, relationships were. Sometimes I think I get scared. Maybe I don't know them that well. What will I do? What will I say? What if we really don't get along? All these reasons, all of the excuses. Maybe, just maybe I am completely selfish. I have a hard time in giving up the little bit of free time I do have.

There is a signature under my post that I refuse to change. It reminds me of all the great conversations we had. What MyHattiesburg once was and what it meant to me. It also reminds me that I had 2 good chances to go see him, and I didn't. Lost chances. There are 2 people I regret not going to meet when I had the chance, both from this website. There are 4 more I regret not going to visit from my personal life, because I thought I had plenty of time. Lost chances. When those chances are gone you don't get any more. I have 3 people to call today after work, that have basically put on hold. I have a friend to offer my assistance to that I have never even met. I have a trip to plan to see someone that was like a mother to me and is in the hospital with cancer. I have a best friend that I have not seen in about 6 years because we grew distant and busy. Misunderstandings happen, hurt happens, distance happens, time happens, life happens, but it can all be patched up if you want to.

I look in the mirror and I am proud. I am proud that I have lived so many lives. I have had so many chances of my own. That I have great kids and a awesome wife. I am proud that at 42 I may be healthier than I ever was before. Most of all I am proud that I have made a difference in several people's lives. Life is so fragile and I was so stupid to take the risks that I did. Because of it I am able to relay my experiences, failures and successes. BUT, there are some things I regret. Things I am ashamed of and that bring me great sadness. Those are things I truly wanted to do, and, for whatever reason..... I never got the chance. They involve relationships. The things I never got to say, the call I didn't make, the visit I skipped on for whatever reason. Just because "The doctor says I have 6 more months" does not mean anything. You should go today, DON'T wait until the weekend because it is more convenient. This is a issue I have had for years and I know I am not the only one.

I am 42, yesterday it seems like I was only 14. I didn't want anyone or need anyone in my life. I don't remember growing up. It just happened. This is what someone passing does to me.... every time. I reflect on the fact that I am not perfect. That I am very selfish. That I want and need some people in my life now. That sometimes I do need their help and they do mine. That I want them to know how important they are to me and why. That many times I have a lot to give. WE have to be proactive in maintaining those relationships and NOT letting them pass me by. Most of all I have learned that there is never going to be enough time. You have to make time to fit in the important things, your family and friends.

"Stuff" means nothing. In the end nothing else is important besides the relationships you build and maintain, or do not maintain. The memories you make and the stories you pass down. Sometimes you only have yourself to blame for losing those relationships. My mom told me once while she was in her last days "I saved all these things for you, you have my house, cars, money, birds." I thanked her so much for it because that's is what she needed to hear. Then I told her I would gladly give it all back to just spend some more time with her. "We are all stories in the end, just make it a good one." To quote Dr. Who. I think he wrote some very good stories. I know he will be missed very much, by so many. From casual acquaintances to family, he touched so many. Through this site he touched thousands. He asked me to come back and write one more blog not too long ago. I told him I would. I never thought it would be about this. I would have preferred to write some magical post about Unicorns dancing in fields filled with flowers, but I am not there. Not today, not this week. I have rambled enough, my thoughts run wild. RIP my friend, until we meet again...... My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.