General update

This sensation... I don't want to call it a feeling because what is happening to me is not something that is in my soul as much as it is a thing that is draped around me.  All of the things that bring light to my heart is muted, the echoes of happiness tinny in my mind.  I went to my physician and she is going to change either the dosage or the medication that I take for my anxieties.  And not to try to deny or put in a different light my current emotional and mental state, but anxieties is simply the most accurate description of what I am going through.  Depression... what do I have to be depressed about?

Lexxie and I text frequently enough... and we are both looking forward to seeing each other this summer.  Were I fallen into a depression, then I would be thinking other thoughts than the ones I have surrounding seeing my youngest daughter this summer.  In fact, if the cards I play in the future fall my way, I can look forward to me and the Carolina Girls rolling out somewhere together in the future... would THAT not be something!

I had thought that I would do something like go see "50 Shades of Grey" for a laugh... but remembering the drivel that was the book and the reviews of the movie, on second thought..!  The movie that I do wish I had seen, "Interstellar", might still be playing somewhere and that is something I can think about for Sunday.  Failing that, finding "Interstellar at a theater, one of my co-workers has it bootleg and I may borrow his copy and watch the film.

After getting poked at by Princess on Facebook not to long ago, I wonder what her and any of the women I have encountered in Omaha have planned for Valentine's Day?  Yes, two of the three women that I have had dealings with (I mean, to say they we had "relations" would be a stretch, IMO) in addition to Princess have sent messages.  And I still am not counting text messages without any intention behind it as "speaking".  That is simply taking the coward's way out of, sending something as impersonal as a text message, with no real substance behind it.  And the reason that I even mention my failed romantic liaisons is to simply test whether or not I am feeling depressed about some stray emotional tumbleweed rolling through my being.

Next week I will schedule an appointment with my advisor to see which classes I will be taking next term.  With at least one class in the summer a real possibility, I think that if I manage to just get two classes in this spring, that I will be doing good enough.  Right now, though, making sure that I get up on time and get out into the world is taking up a lot of my energy and that is what I am doing... getting up and getting after it!

NOT-SO-RANDOM WORDS PUT INTO SENTENCES

There are moments during “the days of my nights and the nights of my days” where I find myself “stuck” -- lost in thought, lost in the vastness of being, as I go from one place to another.  While it is for “neuro-typicals” to laugh off their lapses as “senior moments”, for me they take on another meaning altogether.  I usually catch myself and resume my progress to wherever it is I was going.  But the Sunday I was supposed to meet with Nebraska was not one of those moments.

Before I get to that, let me share with you the life that I have managed to construct for myself since I have been blogging.  If I am not mistaken, I begin keeping a blog not too long after my diagnosis was confirmed by the Social Security Administration and the battery of expert medical personnel that I was sent to that verified the initial diagnosis of brain injury.  From sleepless nights spent in a musty townhome where people existed but were not living, to my simple, yet appropriately (if cluttered) furnished apartment in government housing (for which, btw, I pay MARKET RATES FOR and not some adjusted for income rent), engaged in the matriculation process, I have to feel a wee bit proud of myself.  I have a job where I am respected and appreciate by nearly everyone that I know, to have the occasional surprise from out of the blue, and this is achieved nearly each and every day (after all, I only need to find a penny or a bottle cap to achieve that!  :0))  That I have done so without Nebraska playing a major role in my progress since I have been in Omaha is indicative of what I have said all along … this was NOT about my following desire to be in a relationship  (which, btw, would contradict much of  what I have said about my character), but the romanticism of my journey has been contained with following the inspiration put into me by Johnny Rodgers, Marlon Perkins, and unfrosted strawberry pop-tarts, to its logical conclusion.

Most people with my condition live under “controlled circumstances”, where even the most independently capable of them still live with certain accommodations, to say nothing of completely living on their own, without a family member or someone with a vested interest in their well being anywhere in sight.  But I determined that I would rather take my chances on my own than risk living under anyone’s guardianship.  Simply put … F*CK THAT...

Now the details of the how the relationship with Nebraska and myself came to the standstill it has reached are still proprietary.  But ultimately, for me at least, not having made the same kinds of mistakes that I have before already is itself a bonus!  I cannot stress enough how it was opportunity and not a relationship, that drew me to Omaha.

As I returned home from the Terrence “Bud” Crawford title fight Saturday night, I was caught in a sudden downpour and had to wait it out at the Greyhound Station.  My rear tire  caught a flat and I had been walking from the Qwest Center towards home.  As the showers slowed to a fine drizzle, I left overhang of the bus station and made my way home.  It is only in reflection that I realize there was no one for me to call, no one I could have reasonably have reached out to and expect them to do anything to alleviate my situation…

...and honestly, I could not have felt any better about my life!

When it came down to doing what I needed to do in order to make the meet with Nebraska, I had to wonder if this was worth it for me.  I mean, I am a single cat, with no family nearby (if I were to even speak of them) and locally, all of my friends are more like “associates with privileges” than real friends, and I would not dare to call on them for such a “reasonable calamity” as a flat bike .tire in the rain, two miles from home.  But maybe if I had such a friend, or were in a relationship with someone who “cared” about me… and that is what made me decided to give up pushing myself to find the brewery where I was supposed to meet Nebraska and instead go home.  Rather than being taken rudely, I would think that it would be understood how I came to my decision… all, Mike Singletary would have gotten it!

I have never asked to be graded on a sliding scale because of my injury.  At no time have I asked for anyone to grant me an adjustment “because of” anything, and likewise, I DO NOT GIVE OUT ANY. Whether or not I reach my goals or not means less to me than does the ethos of Roosevelt’s fabled “Man In The Arena” speech.  I will strive and fight the good fight to the best of my ability.  After all, that is an universal expectation, that someone will give you their best… up to and including when they don’t. Which brings to mind another quote, this one by Marilyn Monroe, which I think empowers the selfish and thoughtless who cling to this as a gospel. “I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”  Man, I cannot properly express the amount of f*cks I don’t give for a selfish woman who clings to this dogma as sound advice!

This Sunday we plan on trying to meet again, Nebraska and I.  Since she has asked for the meet, the anxiety I have surrounding her and our meeting (and to be honest, my concerns begin regarding future events beyond my influence grow almost geometrically over time..!) has returned, especially since “our past” is off limits.  Whatever went down between us shall be left to our individual perspectives, and if we have anything, we will find out when we sit down for our dinner…

THE PROTO-COPING MECHANISM

TACTICAL

I feel self-conscious about my writing lately.  Not that what I want to discuss is not rooted in my own personal saga but because I would hope that …well, never mind, never mind (shoplifters of the world… unite and take over..!) but I want to write more directly, and I still worry that it may be taken out of context.  Dealing with the stresses of my life by sharing is still new to me ( prior to ‘07, the whole “not a f*ck given” protocol of handling stress was employed for over 26 years!)

Offer them what they secretly want and they of course immediately become panic-stricken. -Jack Kerouac

...and then there is a feeling of decompression as the pressure lessens (because it hasn't gone completely away).

June is finally here and I get to go see KT strut across the stage as the first of the boosters fire her out into her own orbit in life.  Whatever small role that I have played in her life, I am honored by it and by her return of her affections for me.  Now that I have made it to where I had planned on going when I started this thing here, I am glad that the Carolina Young Women are a part of my life. Now I can start talking about the next stage of our relationship as parent/friend and support resource.               

A relationship with Nebraska (or anyone for that matter) has always been a secondary in my goals, an incidental consequence to my wanting to “get back into this thing”.  I feel a great deal of guilt from not finding a way to be more active in my any of my daughter’s life … I knew that I did not want to leave them without memories or moments that they can place into their hearts and say, “That’s my Dad”, and for there to be a powerful and sincere sense of love for their old man to accompany their acknowledgement and memories of me. That is what moving to a better place and creating an environment where I could continue to grown in was all about.  Finding love was not that prevalent in my thoughts because “light-skinned brothers” never go out of style, and especially when they have both good character and personality to go with the eye candy, amirite? To that end, next year I intend to get back in the Motor and make Skye face me… I know, right?  Sounds so implausible, given the belligerence from her Mom and her lack of enthusiasm for a relationship, but so is a cat with brain injury, living on his own, going to college, and working where he wants to be, and look how THAT story turned out!!  Besides, I would absolutely LOVE to visit Alaina and Tony, too!  Maybe even go to Greektown, stop by the Astoria bakery and top it off with dinner at Xochimilco's!            

       

I don’t remember where I first encountered the phrase, “face your fears, live your dreams”, but it has rattled around in my mind since at least junior high.  The Kerouac quote tells you what I believe happens when all-too many people find themselves faced with an opportunity.  They dither, they find answer’s in the darkest places, all the while unable to see for the light.  I truly believe that my opportunity is upon me, meaning that if I really want to be my daughter’s best friend, that chance is NOW.

Many women, particularly those with familial responsibilities taking up a big chunk of their lives, unnecessarily, IMO, but their growth as a person on hold.  Fear of what could happen if they choose to open up to the wrong person, what is at stake for them and their loved ones if something goes awry and can be sourced back to the primary relationship (I will explain..!  Just give me a sec..!) between the woman and her partner.  Influenced by poor previous choices and bad music (lookin’ at YOU Taylor Swift..!) and tropes promoted by social cues, these half-measures made by some women only lead them to more unhappiness.  And that is where the obvious goes unstated… that they proceed in relationship on guesses, bad logic/intuition, and a selfishness that blooms as concern for their own well-being, but is mostly a crock o’ sh*t (if it ‘weren't, then why you so mad at being alone..?).

One of my spirit guides, the venerable Prussian General Von Clausewitz expounds on what he called (and so do I) choosing those upon whom you can rely upon as well as what occurs when you are at unease with your choices/decisions, the uneasiness that takes hold of a person when they are going to do something momentous in their life, and how that slippery slope goes from unease, to indecision, and finally to half-measures.  Nebraska, beyond any shadow of a doubt, half-a**ed our relationship.  The reason that I say this isn’t simply because of my own peculiar philosophy.  It is just that friends make the time for you when the opportunity presents, not simply “when they can”.  Your relationship becomes an imperative, something that has to be attended to, when you value the person, and since I was offering to be a candidate for partner, I felt that I should have been given more consideration.  I don’t think that she has visited me more than 10 times since I have been here, not including the 2 ½ years of near-complete non-involvement.  And that is, was, cool.

Yeah, it bothers me that she let me down as she did … why shouldn’t it?  In my mind, I had a near-constant relationship with her for over 12 years, if not more.  Near the very end, when we tried to have the talk that we never had, we could not find the time to sit down, and it was my “fault”.  See, while she treated me like “some other cat”, I was busy building my life.  From sitting around looking at an empty apartment, to finding a job, going to school, and adjusting to EVERYTHING, I created my path where there was none.  

“YOU’RE GONNA NEED A BIGGER BOAT”

At this point, racing to the 4-year mark of continued growth and progress, it is unlikely that we’d ever reconcile.  I, of course, have my “Rules To Live By”, and axioms that accompany them, such as this one provided by Dres of the rap duo Black Sheep … “As for me, to say just how… if you didn’t know me then you could never know me now”.

One of the things that my first marriage convinced me off was that the growth that occurs during separation can leave you as estranged as you were before the original separation.  This was part of the mentoring that I gave my sister the Drill Sergeant years ago when her marriage was going through its trials.  When I had left my ex-wife, I did what was expected of me… I began to get my sh*t together.  But it required adapting to the nuances of maturity, the goals that had been set for myself, and incorporating a new thinking to how we approached each other.  Unfortunately, her thinking was mired in the past and unfounded wisdom of ill-conceived ideals.  She remained as she was, still is, and who she will always be.  And yes, Nebraska, I am saying that about you. I do think you need to be approach relationships differently in order to integrate another adult into your life.

                                          

        

Don’t know if the word “sapping” has any specific connotations to you… mine is of elite units being dropped behind enemy lines during military confrontations, going to work find out weaknesses and disrupting their enemies operations.  That is what I think of the myths and blanket statements that are made on both sides of the relationship debate, the presumptions that this thinking is wisdom.  I see this “magical thinking” as the surest sign that this is a person with whom, “I can’t coach with”... and it is in the figuring out of “our formula” and wanting to change that you grown and progress.

So in closing, if you somehow think that I am not worthy of sharing your special moments and for you to subsequently take something special of my and sh*t on it, that your best efforts of being a “friend” begins with limiting how much a “friend” you can be, and then to lump me with all “black men”, as much as classifying a behavior as what “all black women do” infuriates you, then I don’t see things, despite my kvetching as a “loss” of any sort… it is a net gain.

Oh, for those of you who share my Facebook, I will soon explain, “Who’s That Girl” with me in the photo!!  Yoikes! And Away!!

BURNOUT ... at the HYDROGEN BAR

TACTICAL

I mentioned that I tried to engage Nebraska yet again.  I won’t get too much into it here, as I do intend on discussing the particulars throughout my entry, but it made me think that maybe I REALLY should try to talk at length about my injury.  One of the side effects of a traumatic brain injury are changes to your personality and how you interpret the world around you and in your environment.  The changes aren’t always major, for instance, my equilibrium issues.  When I am performing movements in multiple planes, involving different dimensions, like walking down/up a flight of stairs while carrying a load, or balancing myself while doing lunge/split squats, I have issues.  But my perception, like my balance, can be worked on with effort and determination.  Still, working on something and bringing something back to previous levels are two different things.  I have a new normal that I am still getting used to, and a lot of it has been glossed over partially because of my reticence and that I have been busy moving towards my goal, heeding closely to the edict that I feel my life is best lived by which is a yes, a no, a straight line and a goal.

While I have my pride, it is sincerely pride of place.  I think that being able to handle the world within your grasp is something to be proud of, but never to the point of being egotistical about it.  I have never been the kind of guy that thought that making child support payments was in any way something to brag about or give me the right to claim that I was “taking care of mine”.  I don’t talk much about Skye as a little girl and giving her rides on my shoulders, nor do I spend time rambling about Lexxie and her fiestiness as we used to box one another, with me on my knees.  I have not spoken much about going over to Nixxie’s when KT was a smiling toddling baby pageant winner and watching her play with her then 4 year-old and 9 year-old uncles.  Who wants to hear some serial sperm donor talk about that kind of stuff?  The thing about it, IMO, is the lack of self-awareness of the Matriarchal Complex… and the boundless arrogance of its members.  For those whose connections to it are tenuous, I am sure that their perspective is warped by the consensus opinion that single motherhood brings nobility and father’s who don’t live in the same household with their children and/or those who have children with multiple women are loathsome.  This is something I have never tried to mitigate nor claim that the judgements that are made about me and my situation were too harsh.  I have found a place in my conscious that lets me function as a member of a society that would demonize me with knowing only part of the story, all the while lionizing my foil and partner-in-parenting, allowing only for them to have full consideration as a parent while simultaneously denying the same such consideration to men like me (to say nothing of the inherent flaws of SMC members character… those traits that often explain why they are single..!).  

Finally, if you did not pick up on it yet, this is going to be kind of a rant.  Strap yourself in, and yes, there is going to be some adult language in this entry....

THE THINGS THAT I THINK THAT I THINK ABOUT

One of the things about having a brain injury is that there are no set conditions, no one vector or group of issues that comes with a diagnosis.  Your primary central processing center for ALL THINGS has been irrevocably damaged and the possibily exists for EVERY FUNCTION as a human being to be compromised.  My body doesn’t operate the same way, though by sheer will I can feel the rust shaking off, but it has been a long slog and there are no guarantees that I will achieve any level of past abilities.  During training, the Bulgarian split squat was giving so much trouble… I had to hold onto the shoulder of my training partner to execute it, and when I would try to do them solo, I would endure tremors that prevented me from standing straight and remaining balanced, both keys to the exercise.  I can just about figure that I will have to really put some time investment so I can handle the movement.  That isn’t the only less-than-optimal functioning that I deal with.

As the name would suggest, there have been changes to my brain, from areas that are permanently inaccessible to adustments that I have had to make because of personality and character changes.  Since like all of the affected functions, I have no idea what they are and may be oblivious to them, it is possible for me to do something that does not seem to jibe with what not only an observer would expect, but from the things that I once knew of myself.

One of the things that has recently appared on my internal radar, is the desire to actually make friends with people.  At first I thought it was a by-product of the geniuine interest that people here in Omaha show in other folks, and that I was simply responding in kind.  But it is something that is deeper than the superficial niceities of politness.  I have always identified with being empathetic (which partially explains my broad characterizations of social groups), not only being able to listen to people, but be able to approach a discussion from an emotional and intellectual standpoint that reflects their perspective without any disparaging of their view or of them as a person.  This is a skill, something that has to be cultivated and is not something that everyone has.  In fact, it has been a rare thing in my life experience to find someone with this program installed in their personality, so I am not surprised when I have to be “beyond patient”, a level that is already exceeding my own nominal sense of thoughtfulness and appreciation, when dealing with people.  This was evident in my relationship with Mookie Dee, and while not detailed here, my ex-wife.  And it has also been evident with Nebraska, though she would disagree (and she has every right to disagree… and she also would be incorrect, but that is for later in this entry)

As I began to plan for not only my journey to Omaha, but for the journey I would be on for the rest of my life, I decided that I would expand my horizons by simplifying my focus.  Thanks to my ambitious pre-injury effort to actually study and quantify my life, predicating decisions and making choices that not only reflected “the man that we know and love”, but the person that I was, and the man that I wanted to be in the future.  So I set my mind to finding out what philosophical approaches I could apply to my real world life to make the things that were hoped for, morph from an uncertain possible future to a historic reality for me.

When I begin blogging, shortly after I decided to move to Omaha, I went through a detailed review of how I viewed “me, myself, and I”, the people that I encountered, as well as my processing of traits that I believe were present in the various relationships that I had had in the entirety of my life.  From a real and unfiltered self-assesment (because the person that I was did not seem capable of becoming the person that I wanted to be) as well as being as objective as possible and bias-free in determining the kind of character that I hoped to find and allow into my immediate and personal life.

While I had high hopes for Nebraska and myself, it never, NEVER was the primary reason for my wanting to move to Omaha.  Just as I had always told her about Marlon Perkins, Johnny Rodgers, and McCathorn Clayton, she was affixed to a dream of mine, not that SHE was the dream.  I feel that I had offered enough statements that indicated I was not some “internet love tragedy” waiting to happen, just as I was okay with never finding a lifemate, having admited to f*cking over a number of highly considered relationship partners in my life.

THE IMPERFECTIONS OF MY PERSON

Whenever someone, anyone in like, ever, tries to throw the “bullsh*t flag” on my commentary in regards to relationships< I am generally quick to remind them that, “Hey, I know that men can be sh*tty … I have BEEN that guy!”  But what grates on me is how lacking in self-awareness some women are when it comes to owning their share of f*cktardedness.  It reminds me of the fable about the relationship that the birds of prey had with a flock of sheep.

One day out in a meadow, grazing under a sky of blue and flecked by puffy clouds, was a flock of sheep.  There modest number had never been great but it was more than a few.  One of the sheep looked to the sky and saw the birds of prey soaring above in the sun.  “The birds of prey swoop down upon the sick and the youngest of us, taking us off to their lofts and devouring us.  The birds of prey are evil and a plague upon us.  Should we not curse the birds of prey, with the hopes that they are fell and never bother us again?”  The flock agreed and shortly thereafter they begin to wail and curse at the birds of prey.

The birds of prey alit in one of the towering trees in the meadow, confused by the anger of the sheep.  They were astonished at the furor and did not understand why the sheep were so upset.  One bird of prey looked at the other and said: “Why do the sheep curse at us so?  Is it not true that nothing tastes as good as a tender, delicious sheep?” I think this story illustrates the core misunderstanding of ALL misunderstandings in relationships, that roles, and that interests, along with well-being sometimes clash and while men and women are not linked as the birds-of-prey and the sheep are, all too-often the interactions between men and women are marred by exclusive interest and under/over-estimation of the components of a relationship.

“History,” said Karl Marx, “is nothing but actions of men in pursuit of their ends.”  While she would not want to admit this, I think this would apply to a degree to my in-state association with Nebraska.  She is concerned with her own sense of right and wrong, her own set of values, as we all should be.  My issue with her, or at least one of them, is that her indulgence in herself consumes the issues and concepts that are valued of another, leastways, of me.  While it makes for difficult and perilous discussions between us (after all, if all you are concerned with are the things that fit your own life’s paradigm, then what kind of mutual agreements are there for you to reach with consideration to fairness and justice for all parties?) I would be able to defend and explain my thinking IF she was truly open to hearing me and not berating me for … being a man, I guess, who doesn’t think like the ideal of a man she has in her mind (which I attach to another prevalent concept in relationships), an ideal that I never had any intention of aspiring to, nor did I lead her to believe was a part of my being.  The ideal of ones own interest” is not one that I am against… my being comfortable with the flack between us still providing a barrier between us is “okay, fine”, because it allows me to act in my own interest without compromise… of my goals or of a relationship, thereby pissin’ on someone elses’ dream.  And having dreams pissed on is why Princess was unable to bring herself to risk investing in someone who gets from place-to-place via the eponymously named “struggle bus”.  Her second husband and father to her two youngest sons was one such passenger which haunted her, to say nothing of her own dreams and goals that she had for herself.  So when I would describe our relationship as being under the “we knew the environment” axiom of my life, it meant that I fully understood what I was up against and had only hoped that my personal qualities and character (as well as my looks… that is a topic for another day..!) could have bought me the opportunity that I had hoped for… they did not, so que sera.

I think that to some extent that each and every one of our relationships are entered into under the auspices of “we knew the environment”, and if you get into one without knowing where you stood, then a pox be upon you!  Usually, I save that title when there is more than “some” risk involved.  Princess and I had a “contained relationship”, mitigating some of the hurt.  As far as Nebraska and I went, it was a bit more than that.

One of the primary things that always troubled me was the assumption that my move to change my life was about HER.  It was not about me being a lovestruck, immature, lost soul, hoping to find his destiny in a true love.  During the early part of our on-line relationship, predating the Mookie Dee years, I assured her that it was not the case, that I was not coming just because of her, but for reasons that made sense to me, that I foresaw that we would be a great couple.  Her then-consistent reply was that we could be friends.  And her rationale at the time was understood, similar to Princess saved that while I was in the Motor working in the cube prairie, I was hardly on the struggle bus at that time.  It was in anticipating the move at that time when I was stable, and making sure that finding a job that was equivalent (which likely would have been possible to have done, even then) to where I was working at in Southfield the time.  There were other mitigating factors and before you knew it, Mookie Dee and I had crossed paths again.  It would not be until I had committed myself to leaving “the provincial town that I once jogged ‘round” that I once again opened up communications with Nebraska.  But again, what is important to remember, is just as when we first met online, my desire to visit and maybe move to Omaha had less to do with falling in love with a stranger that I had met on-line (and in the era of people losing their minds over internet relationships) and more about my super peculiar affinity for Omaha.  One of the primary reasons other than the connections made in the firmament of my imagination, is one that endures to this moment.

See, I have had several women in my lifetime react to me as if I was “all that”.  It is not humility that has kept me from ever thinking that I was, indeed, “all that”.  But as my man Dres used to say, “not to be all that, though all that is my goal!!”, I had motivations and dreams that beckoned me.  Omaha, for whatever valid reason that I may deign to produce, was a part of that.  And it was NEVER for anyone else to make assumptions based on what was spun out of the timelessness of my destiny.  I think that Nebraska may have thought that it was all about her, when the reality was that it was more about THE TEAM.

When I first began to sow the fields of my mind for this current era, I guess that “Habits” was NOT the first song that jumped up and attached itself to a conceptual ideal of mine, and to have made this something exclusive to ANYONE much less Princess, was doing myself a disservice.  In a way that makes sense only to me, the Interpol song, “The Heinrich Maneuver” was a tune whose melancholy helped point me westward.

To be honest, there were times in our online communications where Nebraska “talked” pretty sh*tty to me and about my personal beliefs.  Again, only because I connected her to my attachment to Omaha, and only because of what I did, co-opting my vision, was I able to overlook any of her transgressions.  From her own words, there was NEVER a moment where I believed in any way that we were going to move from a mildly contentious online relationship to a full-blown IRL love affair.  And even had I, she was clear to remind me that my relocation was about doing what was best for me.

Anywho… the f*ckardedness and douchebag actions of my life I claim full responsibility for.  There are no excuses, no valid ones, anyway, than I can sue forgiveness for from those whom I have injured.  BUT… those are behaviours that I have left in my past, long since outgrown and matured through.  So any assumptions that I would make a late-night solicitation for nebulous purposes, that I would be comfortable with the comparison to anyone who may have hurt you in your past, or the misunderstanding of responsibility and security, if any of these things that bolster beliefs and greater values, cannot be resolved, well …

...it is fine by me that I am “whatever I am” to Nebraska.  Clinging to the past, check.  Stubborn and refusing to move on “from the past”, check-double check.  And then, the most hard to understand and near-unforgivable issue of them all.

SECURITY, PLANS, and OPERATIONS

By the summer of 2012, relations between us was at near-critical levels.  I want to believe she was in a relationship and I was still involved with Princess.  That is merely background information, as the relevant issues are as follows:

Friendship:  It is cool that I sit alone in my apartment most every nights I have always genuinely enjoyed having  my own space so I have never minded being alone.  That is an ingrained trait that is currently at the base of my inner turmoil.

See, I have NO IDEA why I would want for ANY friendship, much less the friendship of someone who has confirmed some of the things that Nebraska has marked off on her ledger of mind.  But, I do, and it really isn’t against expectation for this kind of personality change in me.  I am prepared to overlook the things that I mark as “confirmed” about her and would be willing to -- uh, more on that later.

Respect.  Although we had a conversation where she put forth evidence of her being genuinely interested in gaining a greater understanding “an abstract brother”, it was hard for her to maintain the kind of respect that I feel that I command from nearly everyone else that’s not her.

Finally, her self-centeredness.  As I hoped the Ash Ketcham TED Talk showed, that it is compassion and understanding that is necessary for true empathy and the actions that define caring about another person.  I wonder where the person that gave me such a great first Christmas in Omaha and who let their middle daughter help me pass a class disappeared to?  “Middle daughter,” he says pensively as he thoughtfully rubs his chin.  “What is so familiar about incidents involving middle daughters?

I think this incident will also add to the support of bias against single Mothers.  See, some single Mom’s, particularly those who have bitterness and restrictions toward men seem to show their greatest hypocrisy.  Now I do understand what is at risk… my Mother made certain choices that shed light on the kind of processing takes place when it comes to balance adult desires and wants v. parental responsibility.  So I GET THAT. if not all (and who, I may ask, gets all of it?  If that were possible, this point I have to make would be MOOT if being a single Mother included all the understanding) then certainly enough to allow for commiseration.

Another concept I want to attach to this incident, is the one regarding the Carolina Girls.  Visiting their Father has never included “fun” although I make it my business to get the out and into any area I may be in… from taking Lexie to see a production of “Glengarry Glenross” in the “provincial town”, to KT sitting with me at a Woodward bus stop observing “big city life” when I lived in Palmer Park back in the Motor.  But the both of them know that I have certain rules by which they WILL abide and that any and all “fun” activities are far from the purpose of their visit.  They are here to meet and get to know ME.  As for me, as much as I enjoy showering them with hugs and kisses, I have said it in my journal before and will again, my NUMBER ONE priority is their safety.  My greatest and most important duty during their visit, is to be able to put back onto an airplane my daughter in the same essential state that they arrived in.  For a single Mother, this is something that goes without question, amirite?  But for a sometimes, once-in-awhile Dad?  I guess such protocols don’t matter… but even if they didn’t, that would not make them correct.

At the time I was scuffling out to West Omaha for work with the Gallup Company.  Being too new to be comfortable with taking off three weeks, I had hope that KT would spend time with Nebraska and her girls.  The only confirmed date that I knew was on the planner was a movie featuring the “talented” Tyler Perry and his then-current iteration of the Madea character.  Cool, I thought, leaving KT with money and the necessary keys to get in and out of the apartment and apartment building.  Given my stated approach to having charge over one of my daughters, you could imagine my surprise when KT told me later that night that her, and her hostesses for that day, did NOT go see the movie that I understood as their destination.  This concerned me for several reasons, but I am going to stick to those most relevant.

Being at work thinking that NIXXIE’S ONLY DAUGHTER was not accounted for was truly nausea-inducing.  I already had to deal with the fact that the Mall where the movies were located had also been the site of one of the worst mass-shootings in American history. Then moving beyond that, it was a great opportunity for our relationship to take a step forward.  That.  Did.  Not.  Happen.

Working at Gallup took a toll on me.  Not only was it difficult for me to get the polling accomplished, the offices felt as though they were across the continental divide.  Faithful Doug was up to the task of getting me back home, but I often felt as though I had been met in the face with the business end of a shovel.  Upon returning home to see KT watching television, I asked her about her day and the movie.

“We didn’t go to the movies.”

“Well, where did you guys go and what did you do?”

Her accounting of the her activities were recounted in the tired dronining lilt of a teenager.  I listened closely, because none of what I was looking for was include in her recollection, like a reason why her day did not go as I was lead to believe (see, those crafty Germans… this is the kind of stuff that they’d like for you to believe..!) it was to have gone.  And since NO ADULT called me or left a message that indicated what the plan actually was, I made a summary judgment right there on the spot.

Personal history lesson that really isn’t anyone’s freakin’ business and that I would feel it necessary to recount serves to only harden the mortar that hold together the walls between Nebraska and I.  Some of my early-childhood cases of “Longshot luck” involves a case of child molestation that took place in my family while I was growing up.  I did not find out until I came back to the Motor in the late 90’s, but it ratified the way that I am with my girls.  And this brings me to why I am not suffering from the loss of a friendship and more dealing with a clinical issue that I will carry from here on out.

Intellectually, philosophically, I have ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to miss Nebraska.  It isn’t that she is anything but who she is, but we do not combine well at all.  The things that I cannot, in her words, let go of, represent pillars in my thinking that cannot be diminished.  I had done away with treating women like objects for my pleasure and gratification in my late 20’s and early 30’s … not to mention that “booty calls” were never in my playbook.  Then, the one certifiable case of scarring that I carry with me from my marriage… that is something that I understand is not handled the way that I see it by everyone else.  BUT, respect my stance… I can TELL YOU THAT IF YOU MAKE NEGATIVE COMPARISONS BETWEEN ME AND ANY OF YOUR PREVIOUS PARTNERS, it will likely result in a summary termination of romantic interest.  Peri-f*cking-ed.  I don’t know what is there to get confused about.  So that I was willing to move through that, really was a big thing.

But it isn’t just that not taking Nixxie’s ONLY DAUGHTER where I thought she was going, especially when understanding of how I observe being a parent to my daughters, that an adult would enter into an agreement with a minor of any sort, which is by law, a non-valid contract.  In short, you CANNOT take the word of a child who has not reached the age of majority and has not been emancipated, as the word of authority on any kind of verbal agreement.  And you want to know who brought that to my attention..? MY FREAKIN’ MOM.

This is why, like the clarity of the birds of prey, I do not understand why these points can’t be discussed.  Just because one person feels that it is “this” does not necessarily make them “that”.  See, if you do/say this, I will react by doing/saying that.  How can we get around that, you ask?  Maybe by having a face-to-face, low profile conversation that does not has us at odds as adversaries, but as equals trying to find a solution to our missteps.

THERE ARE BUT TWO CARDINAL SINS… and MTXE IS NOT ONE OF THEM…

Finally… we are “here”.

“There are but two cardinal sins,” Franz Kafka said, “from which all others are sprung --Impatience and laziness.” Perhaps I have been mistaken and made some incorrect assumptions with regards to our relationship, but as far as i am concerned, Nebraska has not come to terms with HER assumptions about “us”.  I always have allowed myself some slack, as my knowledge, beliefs and values are NOT absolute.  I maybe be wrong but I will strive to be correct and when contradicted in the face of valid evidence, of course, I will fit my perception accordingly.  Who wouldn’t?  While I am sure that she would dispute any claim I could make about the “impatience and laziness” of my participation in our relationship, I think that it is first necessary to understanding the interpretation and meaning of the two words and the interplay between them.

She is clearly impatient with me.  Her having “last strawed” the three points that are clear in my mind confirms this assumption.  I WON’T move until things are clear, just as I cannot take Bio 2 before I have completed Bio 1.  Makes sense, doesn’t it?  So why can’t it make just as much sense that before I am committed to you in a relationship that our values and sense of meaning to one another are closely aligned?  Isn’t that something that is a part of all good relationships??

So perhaps that is it… we aren’t good partners.  Having been raised by and having to care for a single Mom, living with and parenting children has not given me enough credibility with her estimation of being a parent, so she does not acknowledge my experience in such matters.  Or that our valuation of what makes a good relationship, spending time with one another, communal bonding, and shared experiences, does not quite jibe with her expectations.  Well, I can dig it (I thought you could..!).  Maybe like at the end of the “Road Warrior”  our paths will never intentionally cross again…

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And I -- I took the one less traveled by…

And that has made all the difference…”

MORE THINGS THAT I THINK THAT I AM THINKING ABOUT

TACTICAL

Because one of the assertions that I made is that I would able to not only manage my life alone but flourish, it is difficult to “journal” in the traditional sense.  I am not afraid of the obstacles between the “here” and “there” in my life, the issues that I face, and though there has been some looking back, I have endeavored to keep my “third eye psyche” looking forward.  This, I believe, means that a lot of the personal asides that make up personal journals that I won’t be griping a lot about “this and that” because they are not related to anything that influences my trending.

Speech class is going well… I am a good public speaker and I am able to keep up with the rest of the students for the most part.  I say “the most part” because I will likely always be insecure about preparation for class… that is a leftover effect from my NT days… I stress being prepared in all things, as it is among the uncertainties in life that I as an individual, can myself control.  We recently had an impromptu speech assigned, and I did very well.  I did not use notes, speaking totally extemporaneously about a topic I selected from cards that the instructor had randomly addressed.

I am going to take Scarlett Rose (the bike that I was given before X-Mas or 2011 after “Doug” was stolen from work) to a nearby bike shop to be reconditioned before I donate her to the Open Door Mission.  I figure since I did not have to pay for her and received her brand new, the least that I could do is put the money saved on her non-purchase back into her and let someone else get her in refurbished condition.

WHY DO I “THINK THAT I THINK THAT I AM THINKING ABOUT THINGS THAT I AM THINKING ABOUT”?

Like the oceans from which life evolved, there is not much really known about the brain.  There are assumptions and guesses, but there is at least as much unknown, if not more, about how it functions.  For instance, I believe that I have mentioned that, considering I can avoid being regularly thrashed about the skull, that whatever I have lost due to my injury has pretty much been tabulated.  This means that what I have now is what I have to work with, and that I was right in assuming that I had enough “smarts” that even with my deficit, that I am still more intelligent than you!  But this is more about how we don’t know or even understand why we think the things we do, what inspires us.  Recently, I experienced moments that while foreign, were also understood for what they were.  That is what I mean when I have “things that I think that I am thinking about” on my mind.

I read a Cracked article that confirmed what I have known all along, that our brains conspire to make us miserable.  The one conclusion in the article that I do disagree with, and did when I was first exposed to it, Freud’s observations on happiness is, incorrect.  I believe that once you become aware, then happiness becomes a CHOICE, just as being unhappy is a choice.  I don’t think that we are drawn to fear or to believe that the worst possible outcome awaits us in every shadow.  And even with Nietzsche and Schopenhauer talking about how miserable life can be, despite the influence of their writings on me, I still saw and continue to see, pleasure in simply existing.  Louis CK does a good job in his stand up of expressing how inconsiderate many of us are with this amazing period where technology and society has met, leaving us where we are at this very moment.

So when I find myself being bogged down with thoughts that seem to have spontaneously generated, I categorize them as “things that I think that I am thinking about”.  Let’s get things right… I am disabled, saddled with chronic traumatic brain injury, living on my Social Security and just a skosh above minimum wage job, and I am flat out chilling, do you hear me, CHILLING!

I am typing this up on my own laptop, with two busted lappy’s stuck in a cubby of my entertainment center, which also houses my 38” flatscreen television.  I have food in my fridge, three bicycles, and a closetful of clothes.  What, me worry?

But I was at work, in an environment that I wanted to be in, with opportunity to move up awaiting me, when I found my mind besieged by thoughts of, wait for it, Nebraska and Princess!  This is where the Cracked article really came into being, because I have no idea how they both came into my mind, as I have not consciously thought of either of them in many a day.  It felt odd, because what would be the purpose of having them on my mind?  As I am constantly fatigued and my mind spinning, that perhaps my brain was triggered by something in my environment and there they were, the both of them, wanting for attention.  That was as far as it went, because of the rules and axioms that I swear by.

Do they ever think of me?  Do I ever cross their minds??  More importantly, do I even care???  That is why this sudden possession of my thoughts felt alien to me, because I don’t give much of my cognitive energies worrying about either of them.  This is not to say that either of them are not regarded fondly or anything like that, but neither have they deigned to reach out to me, so that makes kind makes it a self-fulfilling question.  Now if this is the kind of processing that I have gone through just to justify some random thought about two women that I deeply cared for, can you imagine how difficult it was for even an NT Mark to finished the process that would bring about the actions I would need to take in order to talk to someone who have already given me my papers?  Yes, it feels odd to think that with all the investment into both relationships that we are not even able to communicate with one another, but c’est la vie!  I am not going to make something out of nothing, conjure up a construct so that I can occupy some stray thoughts that came from out of the ether...