Bitching with Dusio

Bitching with Dusio

The rantings, ravings and musings of a now mid-forties american male. Sex, violence, rock-n-roll. Also, emotions and all that other mushy crap.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Hey remember me? I don’t.

It has been a while. Not that my life is amazingly busy, it’s fairly busy, but I could have stopped by here.

I just haven’t felt like it.

So. What’s new with me? It would be rude of me to jump right in and talk about myself if this were a normal conversation. But let’s face it. This is the blog-o-sphere and I don’t know you, you most likely could give two shits less about me, so to hell with it, let’s talk about me.

I’m writing this from my newest job.
I finished the CDL training, got my license and got a job. Hated that one(they prized being stupid and a redneck over, let’s say, being human)
Took this job. It’s in Youngstown. Which is about three hours away from my home. Here is how it was supposed to work. I take the job, train three weeks, then get my own truck and can live at home and work from there.
Here’s how it is going so far. It’s been 4 weeks, I don’t have a truck and I don’t see it happening soon. I’m getting the feeling they bullshitted me big time.
So I’ve been driving up to Y-town once a week and staying for 4-5 days with my family. Meanwhile, driving some for them, locally, and doing a lot of crap jobs around the office. That and it took them three weeks to get me one paycheck.

Yeah, life is grand.

Plus, yesterday, I got t-boned by a drunk driver. Fucked up my van royally . My luck his insurance will have expired or something I guess it’s good I wasn’t hurt, but that’s a matter of opinion.

I don’t want to talk about work anymore.

So everything else in life. The S.O. resents me and my not working all that time. My kids are pretty much glad I’m gone weekly, save my youngest who is acting out because I’m gone all the time.

Again, life is grand.

I’ve come to the conclusion I am a karmic disaster. I must be. How much bad shit can happen to one guy? I’m not a firm believer in one big higher power, but there must be a force that pushes back when pushed. I’ve apparently pushed my whole life and now I’m getting driven into the ground.

I’m going to list what I think are the fucked up things in my life that I’ve done. Perhaps by putting them out there it will ease my mind and I can start to appease the higher forces. Let me add that I haven’t done most of this shit for years so there must be some lag time in the process.

I’ve lied.

I’ve cheated. In school, on girlfriends, on wives.

I’ve stolen.

I’ve put my own needs ahead of others.

I spent most of my older kids childhood running around getting drunk, fucking anything that would let me and all in all being an asshole.

I’ve treated my family like shit. My childhood family. Not that they have been all that great, either, but that’s not the point.

I’ve driven drunk. I’ve driven loaded on pain pills. I’ve driven drunk and loaded on pain pills.

I love drugs. Not the hardcore, herion, coke or that shit, but pharmaceuticals, anti anxiety, pain meds, sleeping pills, whatever. I’m a sucker for them.

I have so many regrets. It feels to me like I’m carrying a huge bag filled with water or something. It’s over my shoulders and hanging over me, dragging me down in everything I do. For some reason I can’t drop it.

Fuck, there is probably more. I don’t know what or when, but I’m sure I did shit that I have forgotten or blocked so as to keep the pain from overwhelming me.

Last night I was driving up here and I heard something that rung true with me. I was listening to Delilah. Yeah, fuck you, I like Delilah. Her voice is soothing and I am sap for cheesy love songs.
She said that in order to move on in life we have to experience the pain involved with it. I’m sure she was referring to pain in a broken relationship or something, but I think it carries on to other things. That we can feel the pain and work through it. Or we can hide from it and feel the pain of never moving on.
That’s me. Pained and never moving on.

How does one let things go? Do I need to talk to an actual human being about this stuff? Is it like 12 steps where I have to work through it, little by little?
I wish I fucking knew.

The sad part is, I’d get drunk and medicate myself every night rather than deal with most of it. I’m just too broke to do it.
That and my five year old is what keeps me alive and relatively sober.

Sadly, I’m starting to feel my eyes get wet. I’m like a 13 year old girl anymore.

Yesterday I googled, “ how to almost kill yourself.” You see, I don’t want to die. I want to bottom out and start over. Not that where I’m at isn’t about as far down as a person could go.
I feel like I need reset. Like, “there, I nearly died and now life goes on.”

Make any sense at all?

I am crazy, there isn’t a fucking person out there anymore.

Oh, the picture. “Cigar Bar” by Brett Lynch

Labels: why bother?

posted by dusio @ 4/24/2008 01:36:00 PM

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