Sometimes, you gotta say…
Him: This is what you do, Logan. You survive things.
Me: I’m tired of surviving things, man. I wanna live. I’ve been a shell of myself for the past seven years. I wanna live.
Him: You will. You’re the strongest guy I know.
Me: But I don’t want to be. I’m tired of being the strongest guy people know. I just wanna be a normal dude with a family and a boring fucking life. Why is that so much to ask?
In my life, I’ve had a number of horrors. Some turned out to be fine, like when I thought I had testicular cancer but I didn’t.
The first real horror was when a family friend stole my life’s savings at 34. Six-figures. At that moment, I thought I had hit rock bottom. Was too young to realize that there’s always more room for down.
My father dying was a horror as well. But, we all understood that he lived a good long life.
Of course, we all wished he lived longer and died more peacefully. But wishes are for children. And I stopped being a child decades ago.
Alison dying was the most horrific thing that has ever happened to me up to this point. It still gives me nightmares. It always will.
But two weeks ago, someone stole my phone number – not my phone, my phone number – and that was the start of a horror that was nowhere as near as bad as Alison and my dad dying but far worse than losing my life’s savings at 34.
So much worse. You have no fucking idea.
I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to fix everything but it felt like being trapped in a spider’s web. I could move, but I knew it was just a matter of time before the inevitable.
Just like when I was 34, it’ll be years before I return to the level I lost and I feel, some new horror is waiting for me.
The thing that kept me up the most was that I had no one to help.
While friends like Chad and Miller were constantly checking on me…
Him: I’m at the beach, homie. Just checking in.
Me: I’ve got ok moments and awful moments. I still can’t wrap my head around how much I lost. It’s mind boggling.
…it’s not the same as a partner in life.
Don’t think I’ve ever felt as alone as I have in the last two weeks. It made me realize exactly where I am in life with many things.
I guess I’ve been sleepwalking longer than I care to admit. But, if nothing else, I’m awake now.
The thing that hurt the most was that the boy had his “graduation” the week everything went down and, even though I was physically there, mentally, I missed the whole thing.
He’s been away so I’ve the time to clean up my life and this here blog. If you click a link and find it broken, it’s probably due to this thing.
(c) Associated Press
But then I read the news this morning that they’ve been finding children’s bodies in the rubble in Florida and I realized that this was nothing compared to the grief these families were dealing with.
There’s always more room for down, so I’m grateful for what I have; the friends and family I have, among other things.
Years ago, when I thought I hit rock bottom – which seems laughable in hindsight – Bryson put both of his hands on my shoulders and said, as gently and as seriously as possible, “Logan, sometimes, you just gotta say, ‘Fuck it.’ Fuck this shit, man.”
Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten. Still is.
Fuck it. It is what it is. I survive shit. Even when I don’t wanna survive shit, I do. I eat grief every fucking day and have for the past decade. A little more won’t change shit.
That’s all I’ll say on the matter.
Back to the usual nuthin soon.
Location: home, looking for some papers and a goddamn mosquito because, of course, there’s a goddamn mosquito here
Mood: fuck it
Music: Sorry, I’m not home right now (Spotify)
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