2010 Unraveled More Thread Than The Fabric Contained

     The last time I posted was the beginning of last year. I wrote about changes in my life, expecting that there most likely would be a few. I seriously underestimated the sheer force with which life can shape the world around you.

     A lot of greatly disheartening events unfolded this past year:

          -a marriage destined for failure turned into daily catastrophes

          -I haven't seen my son since April

          -I lost a great apartment

          -I lost a great job that had potential for a decent future

          -my car, the last thing my father ever gave me, has been 

           sitting incapacitated in my driveway for months

          -my father passed away in the early morning of his 60th 

           birthday

          -my grandfather passed away 3 days after my father

     A lot of encouraging things have happened:

          -my estranged spouse removed herself from the picture,

           allowing the most amazing person, Audrey, in my life

          -I stumbled upon an amazing job opportunity with a good

           friend of mine, apprenticing as a luthier and working in the

           most unique guitar shop I've ever been in

          -I rekindled my affair with music in a few ways:

               -the aforementioned guitar shop

               -I rejoined a great band I left when I moved to Pittsburgh

               -I joined another band with some longtime friends, the first

                band I've ever played drums in

               -my personal music has flourished and has inspired a few

                more projects, still in the works

     I look forward to this next year with great anticipation. I can't wait to see what's in store for me in the coming months. However, in the present time, I feel as if I've been in shock, and as it wears off, I'm becoming increasingly aware of just how devastating much of the last year has been. I know I have many things to be grateful for and I don't take any of it for granted. But I just can't get my spirit out of the dumps. At times I feel more alive than I've ever felt, but the rest of the time I just don't feel even remotely like myself. I find myself completely blanking on the task at hand, reliving memories in daydreams that play out like nightmares. Certain songs, movies, websites, and other random, trivial things instantly transport me to old feelings that manifest themselves with the strength that they appeared months, or even years ago, as if somehow I'd been dropped directly back into the moments from which they came. I have cold, hard awakenings that my father really is gone. Something will strike me as a subject he would find funny or intriguing and I want to pick up the phone to call him, but he's not going to answer. Daily trials and tribulations conjure up questions I know he would have the answer for or the path to the solution, but he can't respond to my inquiries anymore. I find myself falling into lulls, becoming emotionally unresponsive and unable to snap out of it for hours or days. The lulls hardly ever start from specific events or thoughts, they just.. happen. For the most part, I see myself having a generally upbeat persona, but honestly, at least 1 out of 3 smiles is false. I've even noticed myself in auto-smile mode, carrying myself in an 'everything's OK' manner, but everything on the inside just goes numb.

     I can keep rambling on, but I'm done. You get the picture.

2010

     This year is going to be crucial in the rest of my life. I have so many decisions to make, so many roads to travel, and so many goals to be accomplished. My actions in the months to come will either be my true beginning, or the beginning of the end.

     I have lost my way over the last few years. I have kept dreams only close enough to realize, but always far enough away to never reach them. I have allowed my compassion and love for those around me to cloud my judgement and made some choices that weren't necessarily wrong, but certainly weren't right.

     Maybe it's soul-searching I need. I have some sort of inner turmoil I have acknowledged for years, but never addressed specifically, and like sweeping dust under the rug, no one else sees it, but I know it's there. So there it lies in wait, emitting it's own energy and gravitational pull, dragging others with cleverly camouflaged injuries into my presence. They have revealed themselves as partners, friends, acquaintances, or even a stranger at a bar. And try as I might, I can never fix them. I have such a desire to help other people and show them the light in their own eyes, but I can't see mine anymore.

     My heart needs cleansing. My soul needs refreshed. My mind needs peace. My body needs rest. I need to find my 'reset' button. That's what I intend to accomplish this year, a fresh start. Where will that take me? I have absolutely no idea. But I'm overdue for a good road trip, anyway.

Reluctant

     I can't find a reason to go to sleep. I have so many things I would like to get caught up on, both out of necessity and desire. I have so many thoughts chomping at the bit to be put into text, but I can't calm them enough to understand them all. Instead, I'm wasting time discovering some new music and looking down some possible roads for my dreams to follow.

     Speaking of dreams.. Oh, am I ever stuck.. I'm a part of a band I'm truly proud of, yet I can't determine whether I really believe it has a future, or if I just blindly hope it does. I have numerous other avenues of music to explore, but I can't decide if it's even a dream worth following anymore. There are few things in my life I'm as passionate about as I am music. But I'm unsure if I have the time available or ability to devote as is necessary to make this dream come true. I have a family now that hardly sees me as it is, and my musical endeavors take more and more of that time away. Sure, it provides some personal happiness for me, but it takes away some happiness from them. I feel the decision between dreams and reality is ever closer, a choice between family and lofty hope.

     Speaking of family.. Again, I waste time awake when I should be sleeping. And Ashley is waiting for my promise to come to bed to come through. If she's actually asleep, it is surely with reluctance, though I'm sure she's tossing and turning, if not fully awake and frustrated.

     Speaking of frustration.. We're both growing incredibly frustrated with our daily monotony. I wake up, drive 45 minutes to go do something unfulfilling for anywhere from 8 to 11 hours, drive 45 minutes home, waste some time with tv, then go to sleep to prepare for exactly the same thing the next day. I do this 6 days a week. This leaves for a different, yet just as monotonous daily routine for Ashley as well. Utter boredom would be an improvement at this point.

      Speaking of boredom.. I've run out of words.

Thoughtlines

     It's the bottom of the 3:00AM hour and here I am, contemplating the first string of words to open this blog with. I find it interesting that, with all the thoughts and ideas in my mind, the opening line is simply a statement of my lack of words. I'm unsure of what outcome will result from this blog, but I do intend to digitally scribble some of my thoughts. So much runs through my mind at all hours of the day, I often find it hard to decipher the logic within the obscurity.

     It's confusing to try and make sense sometimes.. Onward to my ramblings:

     Tonight, it's difficult to find a place in my head that isn't filled with thoughts of my father. At the age of 59, he has been diagnosed with cancer for a third time. Having suffered little more than a few (OK, many) sports- and ignorance-related injuries myself, it's hard to imagine what he must be going through. The first diagnosis was surely disheartening, to say the least. But after a series of successful surgeries, albeit extremely complicated and day-to-day-life altering, a second, much smaller occurrence leaves much more room for hope. Then along comes #3, and reality forgoes the formal slap and instead commands attention with a clenched fist to the jawline.
     What's worse is that the treatment from the first two happenings, coupled with his age, leave few options for treatment this time around. And the options available are littered with debilitating possible side affects (i.e. the inability to speak or swallow, permenant feeding tube in the stomach, etc).
     Currently, he is enduring both radiation treatments and chemotherapy. He described the latter to me as 'the worst thing anyone has ever done to me medically.' Considering the sheer intensity of the initial surgery and the fact that he lives every day in some sort of pain or discomfort, that's a pretty bold statement. I remember sitting with him after the surgery and running through a gauntlet of words, helping him relearn how to speak. I remember watching him choke and aspirate in a restaurant - which, on top of being embarassing, landed him a stay in the hospital for a few days - while he was relearning how to eat. I remember seeing about 75 pounds drop from his frame in a matter of months, sending his body into shock and rendering him helpless. So, to say that some little ol' medicines and chemicals have such terrible side affects that it outweighs all he endured on the road to recovery... I can only imagine.
     As people have said many times they see my father in me, I see myself in my son. At nearly 9 months old, every day is a new adventure and experience, but every time I look at him I'm reminded of the 2500 miles of land mass that separates me and my father, who, by the way, has yet to personally meet my wife and child.

     I have much hope. My father, Nebraska born and raised, is pretty much single-handedly responsibe for the definition of 'stubborn.' I can only hope that fate is on his side.