Almost On My Own

That's a pretty powerful statement.  I've never really been able to claim that before.  Forty-four years and this will be the first time on my own.  I mean, I'll have Waffles, but I'll have the task of making sure she doesn't die.  I mean, I am really going to be on my own, a large part of the time. I've never been successful with that yet in my life.
Obviously, I lived with my parents as a kid.  My mom and dad until I was four, then with my mom until I was fourteen, and then my dad until I was seventeen.  At seventeen, I joined the Navy.  After a year "on my own" I got married; four years later divorced.  Another three years "on my own" and then married again for another four years.  All the "on my own" quotes above is because I always had my shipmates.  So after ten years of shipmates, second marriage ending had the first potential for being on my own.
I didn't do well actually that time.  I buffed off help from family to prove to myself that I could be on my own; but after a month alone, no new job, no more money, rent due, and eventually the loss of my car - I broke.  I always have the dark thoughts.  That fear is always there, but that particular downward spiral was one of the really close times.  Thankfully, help was there; and more thankfully - I accepted it.
Things eventually got better.  So much better.  I found my penguin.  Instead of going into that, I'll summarize with the obviousness that she wasn't.  So here I am again, as I was fourteen years ago, getting ready to venture out of my own.  On my own, but with a cat.  On my own, but in familiar territory.  On my own, but with the guarantee of not being alone.
I have anxiety.  Anxiety of being alone, and anxiety of being with someone new.  I come to prefer the alone version of the anxiety.  In two weeks I finally move away from this abode of memories.  While my penguin and kids moved out six months ago, it's only next week that a version of me alone begins.  By next weekend, my current roommate will have also started his journey.  It's also most possibly the last time I'll ever see him.  That's really not the issue of this post.  He'll be okay.
Nope, this is about me.  It has to be about me.  I'm staying focused on this next step, and little else - I have to get to this next step.  So many false starts.  So many impacts by outside sources.  So many things I didn't expect I needed to plan for.  Sure, maybe after I move, I'll be able to spend time doing things that make me happy.  Maybe I'll just end up being pseudo-reclusive (you know, do things with the kids like I do now, but nothing else).

Meh.  Now I just sound whiny.  Yea, that's enough sharing.

Almost there

It seems like it's been a very long time.  It seems like there's still so much more time left.  I have a little over five weeks until I finally get to move to a new place.  Unlike all the other times, it happens this time.  Granted, all my financial planning I'd done for six months were undone last month, and I'm still having anxiety in being able to do this; but it's finally happening regardless.
No longer having to come home to a separated shared house.  It's a good feeling.  I mean, it will be.  I hope it will be.  I hope I haven't built up how much happier I will be when I finally move somewhere by myself.  I expect reality will finally kick in once I'm truly by myself.  It makes me nervous thinking about it.  And sad.
Yea.  It seems I'm at the precipice of fully coming to terms with the harsh reality of my situation.  This post was shorter than I'd intended.

Moving On

I'm pretty sure tomorrow is the one year anniversary of when my life changed.  I'm pretty sure it was last year on a Thursday because Saturday was Valentines Day and one of the things that was a gift was delivered to my work on Friday.  Granted, I ended up throwing it away on the way home.  Just that gift though.
Here's the backstory.  For a couple/few months before, I was getting worried that my wife didn't want to be around me anymore.  So I decided that this year, Valentines Day would be special.  I would set aside money for a fancy restaurant, flowers, and a gift that had thought behind it (something that I wouldn't be told later I secretly wanted for myself).
I especially wanted to do this since only a could weeks earlier I made a joke about how she would make up excuses to spend time away from me and with her friend instead.  A comment that was a drunken joke, at my birthday party full of her friends, that I found out later upset her friend.  I guess it was unfair to accuse her of something so untrue.  So, anyway, I decided that Valentines Day would be when I make up for that and get the spark (if it was gone) back into our relationship.
Of course, like an idiot, I made a joke that morning about how she seemed to always be in a rush to get away from me.  Unlike when I said the thing when we were both drunk, the comment made her reflect on what was going on.  So that night (still pretty sure it was a Thursday) she told me that what I had been denying to myself the past couple/few months was true.  That she no longer wanted to be with me.

For those of you that have faithfully followed me this past year (which I'm hoping is really no one), you watched me post what I've gone through, you know how I feel, and you're probably sick of hearing about it.  Heh.  Yea, I guess I'm about sick of it too.  Soon.  So very soon.  It's still a bit muddy of when this holding pattern will end, but soon.  And the other stuff too.  That girl I pined over a couple posts ago, I know she didn't post it for me, but she posted one of her -isims that with basically if you share your feeling and don't get a response, that's your response, and you should move on.  She's right.  I never told her, I told you, but regardless, there was no response.
Yea, tomorrow should be the one year anniversary of a response I never wanted.  I don't want to fail again, and she's right - I need to move on.  I need to move on.

Moving on.

A Pirate Looks at Forty (-Four)

Tomorrow I turn forty-four.  That's a lot of years.  A lot of things I've done.  I'll keep saying it: I'm still surprised I'm not dead yet.
Hopefully this year's "festivities" pass with little fanfare.  Thankfully I have nothing planned, but I didn't last year until plans changed.  (I'm beginning to see a pattern.)  Today I head to Las Vegas on business for a couple days.  I'm hoping this is the extent of anything outside my routine to happen this week.
Looking back at things I've done and have happened is becoming more often measured in decades for me now.  I have an increasing number of mistakes, I mean life lessons, in my past.  Looking into the future is becoming more dreadful.  I remember thinking I had plenty of time for things later in my life.  Now it's later in my life and have no idea how much time I have left.  It's getting difficult to get excited for what's coming up anymore.  This year I get to venture out on living by myself; forty-four years and this will hopefully a successful attempt at doing that.  Later in the year will be the divorce planning.  Too many of those it seems anymore.  Here's hopping I stay true to my plans of not doing that again.  Then there's the other thing this year of not seeking companionship.  I'll confess, recently there were opportunities, but, Jesus, the panic attacks take the steam right out of those sails.  I noticed the mixed metaphor, but you get the point.
How is it, at this age, I cannot be strictly physically intimate with anyone I have zero emotions for?  Why has every one of those encounters ended with guilt and apologies?  I don't look back at those encounters with regret, but I also don't look forward to repeating it with those individuals.  That statement seems hurtful and void of feelings, but it's a decades old fact for me.  Yep, if I don't want to make the mistake of another relationship, I'll have to do better at being celibate.  I don't think I can physically go through that again, and I don't want to make that shift that removes that end result.
Huh.  Thinking of her again.  I guess there's that one I could, but only because I foolishly always felt something for her.  Thankful, it's been almost impossible to ever hang out with her.  It would seem that she too is trying to avoid that which should not be acknowledged.  She's even said it's too bad that I can't just be physical without the emotional connection.  Yep.  Very bad.
One would think with the title, this would have been more Jimmy Buffett themed; but, nope, apparently I'm just going to mull about my learnt situation and pine for the same girl I cannot have.  If anything, it reminds me of my youth, when I failed my first marriage and sought happiness in a school mate.  Obviously that one didn't pan out either, but she was quite a different set of obstacles.  But maybe this time...
Hopefully we all know better.

I Still Sleep When I'm Sad

I was looking over the past posts, and I saw I already used this title.  It's still true though.  This week especially.  This week was difficult.  I slept a lot.
I almost spent time with a friend, but anxiety and panic attacks curbed that desire.  So, I slept.
Other things happened too.  Things where the plans of others changed my plans.  Seems typical nowadays.  I probably shouldn't be bothered by it.  I mean, it is what it is.  So I'm back to starting my financial planning for moving in March all over again.  So I no longer have money set aside for that.  I should be happy that I took care of the important things I put off because I couldn't afford it.  I should be happy that I got caught up on all the past due items.  I should be happy I could do all that before my account was emptied out this week.  I should be, but I'm not because that wasn't my plan.  None of this has gone as planned, and now I'm looking at my future wondering what I have planned.  Well, wondering more why I should even continue to plan.  I mean, if it hasn't gone as planned yet, am I the fool for thinking it ever will?
So I slept.  If anything, I can do that successfully.  It's not constructive.  I don't progress in anything while doing it.  But, it's also not destructive.  It's like a pause.  Sometimes I wake up refreshed and ready to start anew.  Other times the reality that nothing changed is on my mind when I wake up.  And other times, I'm sad I've woken up.
This week was difficult.  I'm starting over again on many different things.  All uphill battles with shorter timeframes, and all repetitive failures beside my plans were different than the plans of others.  I still have to move forward.  I still have to try.  But, first, I sleep.

Isn't it ironic?

Again... To be clear...  I really have little desire to start a new relationship with anyone.

Looking back, a large portion of my life has been in the elusive search for the one; and if I wasn't looking, it was because I was with someone I thought was that person.  So granted, I haven't been spending the last twelve or so years looking for that person because - well, that should be obvious.

Anyway, wrong again; and that, along with the honest fact that I'm mostly surprised I'm still alive, makes me not desire starting over again.  I say this because there was a moment where I reconnected with a childhood friend, and allowed myself to get excited about the possibility of-- well, let's just say I have spent most of my life convincing myself that I don't deserve to be with her.  There were timing issues, sure, but more the most part, I would stifle any hope of being more than just friends because my self-esteem is juts low enough to think that she doesn't think of me that way.

Fast-forward a couple/few decades and rewind at least nine months, and we're at that point where my current marriage has been removed from life support and I reconnect with old friends.  She's a good friend.  A very good friend.  She's one of those friends that I love will all me being, and have loved for a very very long time; but like an admirative love.  Like the grown up version of being friend-zoned, even though we never came close to exploring the possibility of either of us being in a friend zone.

So, yea, we reconnected a friends and discussed adult things.  I mean, we're clearly not the second to ninth graders we once were, but all that stifled childhood crushing did make a home in my psyche.  I don't want to start a new relationship, but she's not new, is she?  She's life-long.  But there I go, justifying things.  "This one is the one because all the other ones were parts of her and I see now she is the one."  I really need to make sure I do not do that again.

Oh, but still -- what if?  Not only can I not start anything right now, but I have to stop what ifing.  I've always what ifed myself into every relationship.  I mean, I've done that with her.  We've even discussed it.  Well, not discussed, per se.  She doesn't want to talk about it because she doesn't want to entertain the idea.  See, I'm not the only one that has been unsuccessful in relationships, and that is something I've been aware of when I realized that I'm getting ready to be single again at my age.  If I had new relationship, I would want what I thought I found -- which is all I really want.  A friend to grow old with.

I told her that I could see myself growing old with her.  She told me to stop talking.  The funny thing is, the idea of being together is not being entertained because "what if" it ended?  What would happen to the friendship we've had our whole lives?  She's right, but she's also created the quintessential definition of irony.  There's this possibility that we could be happy together for the rest of our lives, but there's also a possibility that we will be miserable apart after that fails.  The irony is that we are basically miserable apart in an effort to not be miserable if being happy doesn't work out.  Well, I'm miserable; she might be okay.  Or maybe she's not.  I don't know, we don't talk too much about that kind of stuff.  I'm assuming that's because we're avoiding the possibility of being happy that might be unhappy.

But I end with this nugget where I state again - I have little desire to start a new relationship with anyone.  I mean, I truly do miss the intimacy of another person nearby, but I struggle with separation between physical and emotional attachments.  And because of that, I don't want to start anything new.  I guess I basically just want her, even though I know that's not something I can have, and therefore all I want because I want nothing.  I'm not drunk, this is truly what's going on in this mind.  There's this awesome person that I want to be with that I cannot be with because we are afraid our failure would hurt us more than we do now, and therefore claim I want nothing because I know I cannot have the one thing I want.

Here's hoping she never calls my bluff.

A New Year Full of New . . . Blah Blah Blah

I'm borrowing the title from an old old post on my website (A New Year Full of New . . . Blah Blah Blah), to which, while almost eleven years ago, is eerily echoing now.  In it I had talked about my complete failure to complete any of the resolutions from the year before (all still very valid targets I should maybe consider trying to resolve this year), and I had talked about how much my life had changed in the five years since the world was supposed to end.  I also talked about letting go of the past.
Letting go of the past and the changes in my life -- I'm sensing a pattern.  As Santayana once said, "Those that cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."  Which is weird because I never forgot, and I felt I had actually taken what I learned and applied it this time.  Twelve years compared to four I think is a form of success.  However, here I am repeating myself - again.
I won't lie.  It's been a tough year for me.  Everything I ever faced the last time came rushing back - all the emotions, all the thoughts, all the instinctive actions.  I managed to recognize the actions for what they were, and have made the decision that I will not be replacing what I lost with something shiny and new (well, new to me).  While I've been on this decided path for many months now, I fully plan to continue my solo journey in the upcoming year; more so in a few months when my earlier plan to live alone is finally realized (since meddlers can no longer meddle).
The emotions and thoughts: those I still struggle with, I always will.  I fully believe that without my cat or my daughter, there's a good chance I wouldn't be here to post these thoughts.  The emotions are what they are; I don't plan to change them because they are legitimate and getting rid of them might mean replacing them via someone that makes me feel differently, and I'm not ready to start down that mistake-path again quite yet.  The thoughts though, while they are what they are, will always be with me.  They've been with me for over thirty years; and while I'll claim that acting on them would sadden my cat or daughter, I really have no true intentions to follow through for completely different reasons.  It's not the small number of people that would be sad but all the people that wouldn't care is why I'm still with y'all today.

But yea, looking back, this is about the time last year when everything should have been a little clearer.  It is what it is, and while the devolution of the relationship has progressed, it still is what it is.  I don't plan to dwell on whether events over the past year that have hurt me were intentional; if I've learned anything this last year it's that I don't think people consider me when they say or do things.  No, they all did and said things that benefited them.  I don't blame them or hold ill will - it is what it is.  So, I do need to truly focus on me and healing, if that's the right word.
So to help me in this "healing" process, I think I will again repeat my actions from early in the year; when I disappeared for a while.  I won't fully shut down my Facebook this time around, but I will be logging out for a long while sometime this week.  I'll still be connected through Google+, LinkedIn, Twitter, Instagram, SnapChat; but only because they are a different experience for me.  I have friends on each of them (some of those friends are reading this), but not the flurry of activity that Facebook is.
It is that flurry that I think I need to take a break from.  I get melancholy when I sift through all the inspirational, religious, political and humorous pictures; or all the baiting statements that result in people asking for more information that never comes because it's just a ploy for attention.  And, shit, I'm just as guilty of those too, except that I respond to my attention-grabs.  No, it's all just noise; and with the election coming up this year, I don't think I could take anymore incorrect information from that genre along with all the others.  I realize now I've spent the last year going to Facebook looking for a version of companionship, and that seems to go against my plan to not replace what I've lost.
So, there will be this post to Facebook, and that might be about it.  I know that I probably won't be doing anything for NYE that doesn't involve hanging out with the kids or being alone, and I think I might abstain from sharing what I'm doing regardless this year; so yea... this might be it for Tofer posts on the Facebook for 2015.  I'll also be here on Blogger, hopefully more often and more positive in nature.  I'm also here in real life, so if you truly want to get a hold of me, you either already know how or will be able to figure it out.