There are several words and phrases that I purposely use sparingly because of the weight that they have in my mind. Hate, is one such word. For me to 'hate' anything or anyone is to consign that person or subject to a emotional limbo. I have no opinion nor do they arouse any feeling for me to act or think upon. For me to tell someone that I hate them, or for me to say to someone or speak of anyone where I think that they could 'eat sh*t and die', particularly since my use of profanity is extremely measured (learned in the service that it DOES have its uses, so I don't let my panties get bunched up when it is used/or heard) and for those that have some understanding of the kind of person I am, using that language is to call attention to something that I feel has dire consequences.
The same thing goes for the word 'depression'. It is an intellectual concept with which I comprehend, but for many years it was something that existed only in that frame of reality, an objectified state of being for other people, not for me. But now, like most or my other personal ghosts and demons, I have to count that among their number. While this bout may have had a little help in getting a grip on me, I do think that I have fought with it all the way. A lot of that came from the course that I chose to chart. There never appeared to be another course to take and my heading never changed. One of the 'Successories' that we had in my office was the one with the cat on the boat... 'Make It Happen' :
Greatness is not in where we stand, but in what direction we are moving. We must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it - but sail we must and not drift, nor lie at anchor. - Oliver Wendell Holmes
The appeal of that quote for me should be obvious to everyone... and also for me, goes a LONG way as to explaining why this has been such a test for me. There has been a lot of 'being adrift and at anchor', when I KNOW that it is out there, somewhere, and I have to get there.
As far as my continuing my journal, well, this is my main source of human interaction and will prolly remain so for the foreseeable future. I will get into that, maybe, later. But when it comes to depression and with other conditions that are of particular interest to me, interacion with other people is crucial. So I will keep on with keeping on, in some form or another, with being a prescence online.
In the early part of my journey to Omaha, which began in earnest the last quarter of '07, I would on occasion speak to Nebraska of my fear of becoming one of those 'internet love gone wrong' stories. She would be insulted, taking it as a personal affront, as though she would do me harm in some way. That went on for a few months because it wasn't only something that I said tongue-in-cheek, but I had hoped to start a conversation about some of my concerns about being 'the road team', coming to live in a place that I would have no one that I even pretend to call on. But she would run hot when I would mention it, so I left it alone. After all, I still know how to 'behave like a fighter' when it comes to seeing my way through difficult circumstance and situations. I left it alone, as I could not verbalize (I know, right?? Me not being able to put in words what is on my mind!) what were and remain, valid reservations.
The movie was about a triangle of people who found each other on the internet and had tragic consequences. The documentary was narrated from the perspective of the lone real victim, Brian Barrett. It began with Tom Montgomery, who along with Brian, worked at the same place and happened to fall into a chat room relationship with a teenage girl named Jessi.
WHY I DO WONDER ABOUT LIFE'S COMPLEXITIES
Tom had issues as a younger man, which he managed to outgrow and he eventually became a husband and father, working at plant in Buffalo. He 'unknowingly' stumbled into a teenage chat room and posed as 'Tom', and 18-year old Marine recruit. He drew upon and used his 'fantasy' self, because he did serve in the Marines. He would fall into a chat room relationship with a girl named 'Jessi'.
The lies and the deceit that went on between 'Marinesniper' (Tom's screen name) and Jesi would eventually suck up Brian, who was drawn into without knowing that Jesi's other online beau was local. Jesi would play games and eventually it drove to Tom, who was lost in his online fantasy, to murder Brian.
Now, I don't want to spoil any more of a fine documentary, but the issues that both Tom and Jesi had as human beings is why I would mention the 'internet love story tragedy' aspect to my relationship with Nebraska. When we first met online, I approached her with the all the sublty of an elephant. I hadn't seen a photo of her (nor her of me, for that matter) and I let her description of herself along with her conversation, be enough for me. I explained to her why things about her made enough sense to me and how I was drawn to her town, IN PARTICULAR. I don't think if she was from Kearney, that I would have felt the same way towards her, or Lincoln, for that matter.
But always, always, and ALWAYS (because those issues are STILL a factors in my mind at this very moment) that people were getting lost out here, and badly hurt. In fact, one of my internet friendships developed out of someone finding themselves hurt by a cat who posed as 'this' and he was really 'that'. What he didn't know is that we were friends and that I had spent time where he was at, and could (in)validate some of the things he was telling her.
I am the first to admit that there is prolly no greater risk in finding someone out here as it is with letting a friend hook you up or making an quaintence in the analog world. But there is a protocol, I believe, that must be adhered to in both situations. They are unique to both arenas, and some of what I needed to make sure of, to alievate my concerns, were encased in the 'tragic internet love story' line that I would bring up, most of which have been dealt with and no longer are of any worry.
What do I worry about?? If necessary, I will put them down here, I promise.