Embracing the destruction

What do you do when you love something that hurts you?

What happens when your calling in life is something that will inevitably drag you down?

I have made the mistake of leaving this calling on my life, and I have suffered the consequences. I have begged God to let me return to this call He has placed upon my life. He has.

I used to love this job. I looked forward to going to work every day. I never knew what might happen, or even if I would return home alive, but I loved it. The comaraderie, the challenge of dealing with total strangers and establishing yourself in their situation and hopefully solving the problem, whatever it may have been. The danger. Yes, even the danger. Adrenaline is a very powerful drug, and everyone takes it because we all have it.

Something happened, though. I can't explain it, quantify it, or understand it. Something happened before I turned my back on this calling. I can't put my finger on when, where, or why it happened, either.

Somehow, I lost my hope.

The calling became a boring job. Routine. Even though it really wasn't.

Now, I'm back, but in what feels like a diminished capacity. The place is less professional. The people are nice, but too laid back, laid back to the point it scares me. The prevailing attitude is that we're still in the 1880's, and this is Tombstone. Equipment I believe is necessary is nonexistent, or sub-standard, and nothing is provided by the agency. There is less stress, there, though, and that is the only up side to it.

It really doesn't matter though. Even if I was still at my old place, doing my old job, there is one certainty - this job will eventually destroy me.

For all it's positives, for all the good things mentioned above, the few bad things, the stresses, outweighs it all, and the panic and depression set in. The meds work, but long term, they are a temporary fix to a permanent problem, and knowing true full happiness seems so impossible.

What do you do when you see your own destruction coming and you can't get out of the way?

Wasting time

It has been some time since my last post. Not that it matters, no one reads them anyway unless I e-mail it to them.

I'm starting to wonder if the things we do online are just a waste of precious time. We're only given so much time in our lives anyway, so how does "leaving" your mark on the internet fit into that? Most of us aren't making any money, and we're certainly not famous outside our little circles of "friends" so why bother?

Maybe that's why there has been an explosion of crackers and hackers stealing and writing malicious code. At least they leave an impression on more than a few people in cyberspace. Sad to think that one must hurt someone else or destroy someones creation to gain notoriety now.

It has taken me four minutes according to the clock to write all this thus far. What could I have been doing during that time?

Love, forgotten.

I have hurt someone I love. I didn't mean to do it, but I did.

It seems I don't know how to love, to truly love, to accept another's little traits and habits that bother me. To just accept the one I love entirely for who they are.

I thought I knew everything of love. I thought I could accept, forgive, even ignore differences between us, between who we are fundamentally as individuals, and let love override all of that and let love be all it is supposed to be.

But, apparently, I can't do it. Or at least do it correctly. I am flawed. My heart is broken in more than one way, and it was I who broke it.

The only conclusion I can come to is this: I don't know how to love anymore. I am damaged goods. I am an incomplete soul. Somewhere, somehow, sometime in my life, the capacity to truly love someone I once had - that limitless reservoir of surrender, forgiveness, acceptance, and undying admiration - has diminished. The reservoir is now but a muddy pond devoid of beauty.

Perhaps this is my just desserts. Perhaps God is teaching me that I have become someone He didn't design me to be. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. I do not know.

I dreamed of holding the treasure of love, and sharing it with someone with joy. But it seems I hold no treasure, only the empty chest it once occupied.

I once loved. This I know in my heart of hearts. I once loved. I once held that treasure and shared it zealously, maybe overzealously. Maybe I gave my part of the treasure away completely. I don't know what has become of me.

It seems I have forgotten how to love. What good is life now?

You will never know how I feel, unless...

Unless you have been so desperate for love, that you would give up your dreams, your hopes, and much of yourself to get it, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have sacrificed an education, adventure, a career (or two) and hope, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have spent the better part of your adult life living for everyone else but yourself, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have had your heart ripped out and stomped on, and then handed back to you by those you love the most, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have been hurt in your deepest soul, and forced a smile, you will never know how I feel.

Unless it's been so long since you've lived for yourself you've forgotten what you like, how to have fun, what sincere laughter is, what joy feels like, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have been depressed, suicidal, so anxious you felt like you'd explode, and on so much medication to remedy these things that you wonder if you even have real feelings anymore, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have overcome the odds to become a part of a profession of honor, and done everything it takes to perform that profession with honor, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have been hated because of what you represent, spit on, beaten, kicked, cursed, covered in every imaginable disgusting substance, seen, smelled, touched, and dealt with things no human should have to, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have seen death, smelled death, and caused death, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you realize that everyone can be hurt by words as well as deeds, no matter how tough they seem, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have learned that the problems in everyone's life are relative in size to that individual, you will never know how I feel.

Unless you have the stones to put something like this out there for the whole world to see, and to form their own opinions of you and what you think, you will never know how I feel.

Then again, how I feel may not be any of your business.

Should've, would've, could've.

Almost a year ago, I had it so good, but didn't know it. At some point in there, I believed it was time to change my life. The first step was to rid myself of a career that I had at one time believed was the only job I'd ever loved.

That was my first mistake.

The second mistake was that I believed a childhood friend when he told me what I wanted to hear. Great job. Big money. Better benefits. More appreciation. Less stress.

The rush to make that mistake cost me more than I want to admit.

The childhood friend was an inept boss, and the job was not what was promised. Surprise, surprise.

Mistake number three: quitting the job before I had any other source of income lined up, and no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life at 41.

No thought to those around me and how my decisions were affecting them. No thought to the fact that I have maybe 25 years of my working life left. Career decisions should have been made long ago, right?

Quit the lie of a job, tried to go back to the place, people, and job I loved, only to be told. "we don't want you back." Try letting go of that one.

For three months, which is eternity to me, I tried to find "a job" doing anything where I might fit in and find happiness. I died a little more each day.

Somehow, I fell back into the first career field, just with a different agency. I grasped at it like a drowning man reaches for a life ring. They pulled me into their ship. Rescued.

One problem. Still having trouble letting go of the first job I should have never left. Hindshight is 20/20, and it hurts like hell. Moving forward is like stretching out burnt skin to get your mobility back.

Trying like hell to move on an think of only today. No future, no past. Just get through the day and try to live instead of merely surviving.

41 years old. Too late to try to find lost dreams? Too late to...do anything different? Too late to love again? Where is my heart that stayed on fire for so many of my younger years? Where is my determination to look at the long term, the big picture? Are you there?

I should have never quit. I should have not left the occupation that had been so good to me. The job that was so much more than a job. The friends that were brothers and sisters. The honor. The memories made and ones to be made. Too late now. Time to make new ones, I guess.

Yeah, God. I'm mad at you.

How could you?

You knew your child needed you. You knew the depth of her need. You knew how bad she was hurting.

And what did you do about it? Nothing. You continue to let her hurt.

Your love is supposed to be perfect? You know all our needs and will meet them? That's what your word says. Well?

I'm mad at you. I don't care what anyone thinks. If this is a relationship, then eventually someone gets mad at someone else in the relationship. So, I'm pissed at you.

What does she do now? What becomes of her hope in you?

I won't ask you to meet our needs. You won't do it anyway. You just proved it.

We'll survive. Maybe I'll forgive you. Don't know when, though.

How could you do this, God?

The Random Rant

English should be made the official language of the United States. If you come here and are arrogant enough to refuse to learn it, you should leave immediately. I'm sick of seeing labels on products in the grocery store split in half - one half in English, the other in Spanish. Both halfs are the same size. I don't care if there is a Latino population explosion. Teach your kids to speak English and it wouldn't matter what ethnicity you are.

The stupid politicians and even stupider media pundits need to stop pointing fingers at others for our current economic crisis and DO SOMETHING. The mother of four who's out of work and a whisker from being put on the streets doesn't care who's at fault for her situation. She wants to know who's going to help her NOW. Actually, we should all be helping each other as much as possible. The government isn't going to help us, and big industry damn sure isn't.

Healthcare without so-called "insurance" is too expensive. How can thirty little pills cost several hundred dollars? Maybe if the pharmaceutical companies would stop advertising so much on T.V. their drugs would cost less. Then again, that may be naiive.

Your worth is not determined by your college degree. It's just an overpriced piece of paper when you get right down to it. If you have a college education but can't make change, what good are you? Bachelor's degree (or master's or doctorate) DOES NOT EQUAL COMMON SENSE. I wish employers would get that clue.

Is it just me, or does Obama talk alot and not really say anything of substance?

America is dumb. Don't believe me? Ask someone you know who the first President of the United States was. You'll probably get 4 out of 5 wrong answers.

The nightly news sickens me. On a "good" day.

It's time to bring the troops home. If the towel heads get out of line again, we could lob a couple of nukes over there and straighten them out. It's cheaper and costs alot less American lives. I really don't care about collateral damage, so don't start. The towel head terrorists don't care about collateral damage.

Exactly who is the "Stimulus Package" stimulating? I don't feel a thing yet. Do you?

We the people have given to much power to the government. They should fear us, not the other way around.

One dog in a house is nice. Two is enough. Four is WAY too many. Trust me on this.

If you've just read this blog. Congratulations. You're probably the only one.