If you have a clear mind & aren’t caught up in the wrong aspects of a journey, you can gain the answers you’re looking for. That’s the difference between just running out of town to go have a good time, and doing some self evaluation and coming back with personal growth. I’m headed home with the right perspective on my life. I can say without a doubt, after all of the traveling that I’ve done in my life, that this was the most fulfilling thing that I’ve ever done. And I think the universe is telling me that it was supposed to happen this way.
Looking back, I think I was a good person. But I was corrupt. I was self centered, immature, and an alcoholic. Did I deserve what happened in my previous relationships I’ve had as an adult? I’d say no. But perhaps things occurred how they did because I hadn’t learned to acknowledge and correct the aforementioned flaws in my character.
I accept what my mistakes were these past nine months in particular. They were deeply rooted earlier on but really amplified the past nine months when my marriage ended. I take full responsibility. That I made the decision to move past that awful relationship and also get sober at the same time has cleared so much in my head and my heart, I really do feel like a new lease on life has been granted.
I ran an ultra marathon up the side of a mountain today, at 7,600 feet above sea level. I guess I could write about just the race and go on for a while. But that would be much more secondary to what actually occurred out of site inside my head, and the amazing coincidence that happened during my day. I accepted, acknowledged, and analyzed a lot about myself and recent events while I was out there. I also came to the conclusion that I am never drinking again. I can’t. I decided to sober up so that I could put the past tragedy to rest, and so I wouldn’t lose what I care about in my life. And that’s far, far more important than having a drink. Ill do whatever needs to be done to uphold that. I also am never speaking to my ex wife again. I blocked her phone number. I deleted every photo of her on my Facebook. And when I got to the very top of the mountain today, I hurled my wedding ring off a cliff. Alcohol and her manipulation head games almost ruined my life and made me lose everything.
I was introduced to someone through a friend that’s been sober 4 months. He had his engagement called off, thrown out of the house, and his longtime girlfriend almost cut him off from her life completely. He rehabilitated himself and is continuing to get better and hopefully can continue to do so. He imparted some wisdom on what I’m going through, and I think the very fact I met him now, out in New Mexico of all places and while on this particular journey, is the universe speaking. He lost everything, yet in the end the person he loved didn’t give up on him and he’s changed his life because of it. I hope I can be like that too. Oh yeah, and his name is Chris too.
Day 663: Quitter’s Offensive
When one door closes, another opens; and sometimes, a monster comes through it.
The universe is terrifying it its ability to alter the alignment of your life. The lessons it desires you to learn are unfortunately carried to you on the wings of a traumatic experience. It’s almost as is if it is mockingly asking you if you have learned the lesson you needed to learn, and as you nod your head with tears in your eyes, it sadistically spits out “are you SURE?” before flinging the door back open and letting the demons of your past come roaring back, reminding you that yes indeed you must change something about your life, lest you become doomed to relive your most painful moments. If you can become aware of these cycles and messages, and sort through the murky waters of depressions, angers, and heartbreaks, you can and will grow as a person. You either pass the examination, get up and walk to the next grade up…or you fail and the unrelenting teacher will force you to re-take it. Its painful. Its hard. And it will grind you until you have been brought to your knees and forced to evaluate your deepest flaws and mistakes. Its the reason people cope so poorly. If it was easy to do these things, there would be a lot more happy and wise people in the world. Instead, we have a lot of people running around like chickens with their heads cut off in the midst of things that cause them sadness and to be upset. They lash out on social media. They go get drunk or do drugs. They berate those around them that care about them. This inability to cope in turn leads to bigger problems and staying upset much longer. It also leads to a missed lesson, which in itself is a tragedy. I also see a lot of people, in both good situations and bad, throw their arms up and say cliche things such as “it is what it is” or “it’s in God’s hands”. You can be a person of faith and still take in life’s lessons. Simply summing up the explicit coincidence’s that occur in life as a one line catch phrase, is like taking the pages to histories most beautifully penned works of literature and replacing the last pages with a comic book or children’s rhyme.
The most important lesson’s unfortunately come as painful & traumatic reminders, complete with cruel coincidence’s. This is the universe slamming its hand down on the desk to achieve your fullest attention as it asks “are you sure you’ve learned now?”
Day 662: Agent of Oblivion
Again you are the smoke that is my breath
This bouquet of regret
For a long time, I had thought the beginning of the end was the night I found out my wife was seeing someone else behind my back. Later, after I discovered it was an affair that had started over a year before, it became merely the most horrible night of my life at the time. One of the things my wife inherited from me was my love of music. She picked out parts of my tastes and adapted them as her own, but in the end she was just a poser. I didn’t really think of it that way at the time, it was a lot of fun going to shows together and I genuinely enjoyed listening to music together. But I often caught her extending herself towards the musicians we met in ways that made me borderline uncomfortable. I’m not some groupie flinging myself trying to get people’s attention, I had a legitimate friendship with a lot of these people. The piece of shit she cheated on me with happened to be in a band we saw open up a show we went to while I was on a trip for work. She looked him up on Facebook and immediately started a disgusting & sexually inappropriate chain of conversations that turned into a full blown affair.
We went to see Dax Riggs on a humid summer night in 2013. The show was in Panama City Beach, at a pretty small bar that was probably used for shows that passed through town just because of a lack of other options. My wife, as usual, showed no judgement or awareness and got black out drunk pretty quickly into the night. This was without a doubt due to mixing cocktails with another substance. She was harassing a couple standing next to us almost the entire show, and just being more and more difficult to even be around. She also took notice of some other young girls standing directly in front of Dax while he was playing and made a snide comment about how they weren’t really important to him. There was something about the way she said it that was bizarre, and made me think “oh, and you are?”. We left halfway through the set because I couldn’t even keep her standing up.
While I was literally carrying her up the stairs, her cell phone fell out of her pocket and bounced down the stairs. I put her to bed and she was completely unconscious. After getting her situated, I went downstairs and picked up her phone. There was a text message as I was holding the phone that made me pause and just stare at the device I was holding in shock. Some other guy checking on her, finishing the text with “love you”. I read through the entire thread and I think I had an out of body experience. An entire relationship unfolded in front of me, photos of the two of them here in my hometown on the beach. She had flown this loser here using my money, after telling me to hit the road to go clear my head. I felt like I was having a heart attack. I called the phone number and left a message demanding that they stay away from my wife. Then I went upstairs and crawled into bed next to my corpse-like wife, and cried like a bitch.
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One of my most vivid memories of Samantha was when we saw Dax Riggs in Chicago a few years ago. We were exhausted from driving up from Florida and having extremely busy days in Atlanta and a beer festival in Indiana along the way. By the time we finally saw the show that night, we were seriously having trouble keeping our eyes open. We ended up seeing Dax before he went on, sitting in a booth alone. We sat and talked to him for a minute, and I took a photo of my wife next to him. This was before she had done anything that would give me cause for concern regarding musicians so I thought nothing of it. The actual show started late. When you go a certain amount of time without sleep, especially in a time frame of several nights with barely any rest, I think something happens to your mind and physical body. I felt like I was high, the lights of the stage blurring in front of me. “I Hear Satan” was the song being played, and my wife swayed in my arms, looking me dead in the eyes. We were surrounded by people, but it felt like we were alone in our own existence. It is the sexiest and intense moment I can remember about my marriage.
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This past Friday, my wife asked if we could at least be friends. She worded things in her usual sweet, hope inspiring style of manipulation. And finally, after all of the years of always giving in and thinking there could be some change, I replied “No”. And deep within my heart, and my mind, I knew that this was indeed the end. Of everything. For good. And fittingly enough, that night I went and saw Dax Riggs. This agent of oblivion had been the soundtrack to this entire fucked up journey of sadness and betrayal, and that night he was performing the last songs of a chapter that was closing forever.
Day 625: Ghosts & Withdrawals
I was dreamin’ of the ocean
The devil is just out of frame
80 miles is a lot of time to think. The 24 hours spent in almost constant motion sees your body embroiled in both mental and physical turmoil. A pendulum swings back from doubts in your brain to pain in your physical body. It would have been a big enough undertaking under ideal circumstances. The cold weather and howling winds are not the circumstances that I am hinting at though…
A few weeks prior, I stumbled into my bathroom and gripped the sink. The feeling in my head brought to mind being on a sinking ship going down among rolling waves. I was drunk. Wasted. As usual. More often that not the past 7 months, this is how I ended my days. And sometimes, how I started my mornings. What started as just trying to have fun and forget about my failed marriage had turned into a real problem. Sometimes, it just felt better being out of control. It was a joke to me that I could run as much as I did despite my binge drinking…until it stopped being funny and the problems started to outweigh any sort of release I was getting from being drunk. Things started to change when I ran 20 miles still drunk from the night before and while on the outside I was chuckling about it with my friends, on the inside I felt awful and worried about how stupid it really all seemed to me. Because I was still getting up and making it to work every day, I guess I never really faced the fact that I had become a full blown functioning alcoholic. The funny thing was, I didn’t know I was an alcoholic until I stopped drinking. My body did a good job of letting me know just how bad I had let things get. I made it through the first week feeling positive enough. I laid low, ate healthy every meal of the day and locked into my running and weight lifting routine. “This is just like turning over a new leaf, getting healthy in a New Year’s Resolution sort of way”, I told myself. On day 7, things came unraveled.
It started as I was finishing my day at work. My head started to feel an immense amount of pressure and pounding. And then my skin lit on fire. It felt like it was peeling off the back of my neck and shoulders, all the way down to the tops of my fingers. I could barely keep my hand on the keyboard in front of me. The crazy awful sensation on my skin let me know what I was facing; I had heard my wife describe them to me many times over. I had been the helpless bystander watching a loved one crumble in front of me…now I was the one crumbling. And I would be all alone during it.
Before it was even 4:00, I kept it together best I could and drove down the street from my office to my parents house. I crawled into bed and turned out the lights. All I can say is that the horror stories I heard about quitting a substance problem were true and that it was the worst feeling I have ever felt in my entire life. It was like time stopped too. I literally would stare at the clock and just try and make it to the next 5 minute mark. Each 5 minute increment was a small victory, until I finally lost track and went into a resting state until the sun came up. The rest of the week was a living hell at work. I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs and smashing every piece of equipment in my lab, and anytime someone spoke to me it took all of my willpower to not snap at them. Each night I would do the same thing. Crawl into a dark room and turn on the TV or music for some background noise. And just lay there in agony. I felt really alone, but was terrified of telling anyone what I was going through. I was ashamed and embarrassed that I had let this happen. I told my wife what was happening, and for a minute I thought maybe she would come home and take care of me since I had done the same for her all of those times and she knew better than anyone what I was going through. Of course, that didn’t happen, the most she offered up was “I know how you feel and I’m sorry”. She even accused me of telling her I was falling apart in an attempt to get her to come home.
Eventually, around day 12 I was able to rest at night without feeling like I was on fire. My head felt “foggy”. I was right up against the weekend, and the Destin 24 Hour beach ultra marathon. I almost dropped out of the race that Thursday. Friday afternoon, I drove my car to the beach, the first time I had gone more than a mile from my office in 2 weeks. The water was really calm, and the suns dying rays were coming down between a cloudy sky. I decided I would start the race and go for as long as I could.
I ran 80 miles on the beach while having withdrawals from alcohol. I know a lot of ultra runners that have rocky personal lives and have gone though plenty of turbulence throughout adulthood. People sometimes ask me if we are all running from something. I like to say that we are all running with something. Running away from your problems and ghosts is pointless, because they will always be waiting for you at the finish line. Each step is your journey through it all, and if you push on and batter your body up against whatever resistance life puts up as an obstacle, those demons will eventually tire and fade behind you.
So here I am 28 days sober. I have had some rough days since those 80 miles but I’ve taken them in stride. To be honest, this is the best I have felt in a really long time. Aside from not feeling like shit from being drunk so often, I just feel…free. If I ever feel like having a drink is something I can handle responsibly, it will be when I am at a stable point in my life. For now, I don’t feel like my past is a ball and chain weighing me down emotionally. I’m not sad. My wedding anniversary was last week. It was just another day. The phone rang but no sense answering it when I said everything I needed to say a long time ago. I’m 32 years old and sober, with an entire planet to explore. Life’s race goes on.
Day 486: Final Heartbeat
With this heart in your hand
try to understand
I turned 32 this past weekend. It was a stress free day, and I even spent it with some friends and got to enjoy myself. Far different than last year…
I came home from training ats my second job, the coffee shop in Seaside. I had gotten the job for some extra cash since we were having a baby, and it was going really well. I probably walked out after each shift with enough money from tips to buy groceries and gas for the entire month. When I got home, we sat on the couch and relaxed while watching Breaking Bad. My wife started to complain about some stomach pains, which of course made me nervous but this had happened before. An hour later she was writhing in pain and told me to take her to the ER, which luckily was right down the road. As we were checking in to the emergency room, the blood began to pour out of her.
It was a soul crushing experience, I can’t imagine how traumatic it was for my wife, and there were things that happened that I will never un-see. We were devastated. We had waited the three months and gotten the OK from our doctor to spread the good news and that everything was healthy. I knew my wife was not healthy, but I was holding out hope that things would get on track as our pregnancy progressed.
I would say the highlight of my entire relationship with Samantha was hearing our babies heartbeat. The first time was when we had an ultrasound done and got to actually see the baby forming. The second time was for a checkup at the hospital the weekend before the miscarriage. It made everything real and this child was going to be a testament to our marriage overcoming every obstacle imaginable. I guess the fact that it didn’t happen was a sign of things to come.
Our divorce should be final this week. I have had a lot of emotions about all of this, and there have been times where I feel like my resolve will buckle and I wanted to run back to you. You say you are getting help for your problems, and I want to believe you and encourage you to stay on the right path. I know it would be a disservice to us both to ever given in and allow reconciliation to happen. This is your time to take care of yourself. I can’t do it anymore. The potential is there and I hope the kind of awakening you need finally happens.
The baby’s name was Mila Grace.
Day 482: Laughter of the Soul
Now you’re gone but I still remember
Better days as they wash into the sea…
Dear Wife,
Today is/was the 3 year anniversary of our wedding. I can’t help but remember what a wonderful day that was and how much fun we had that week with all of our friends and family that came from all over the world to see us. Several of them told me that it was the most fun that they had ever had. We definitely had a great time and the wedding itself went off without a hitch (even though I sent Philip back to the apartment to get the “I love you” plate for the paint and delayed the ceremony 15 mins). I keep day dreaming back to that time and smiling, although each time I sigh at the conclusion of my thought, the exhale brings tears to my eyes.
I’ve talked to you each day for the last 4 days, and all 4 days it was like talking to a different person. I hope you can finally have some stability, and be the one who I spoke to yesterday. That was the person that I fell in love with 4 years ago. The thoughtful best friend who always went out of their way to make sure things were ok and who made it a point to ask if there was anything they could do for you. I could hear it in your voice, she is still there. I just hope she stays.
No matter what happened in the past, even the recent problems, I just want you to be happy and stable. Please get the help that you need to have a successful and productive life. You taught me a lot about myself, about family, and doing the right thing for people you care about. Even if you sometimes didn’t do those things for our little family. You’ll always have a friend, you’ll always have a fan rooting for you to do great and wonderful things. I am sorry we couldn’t achieve the longevity in marriage that our love seemed so destined to reach, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t wish each other the best. I told you I hated you Tuesday night. That doesn’t mean that I still did on Wednesday morning. Tempers flare, feelings hurt, hopefully they do so less and less as it becomes more of a friendship in re-bloom than a relationships flames of the end.
“What does it take / teamwork”
Love,
Husband