Andrew

So, to the point of whether a forum is going to help anyone become free; not if you are reading this thread. :rofl:

I want to prove myself to the standards of this ‘world’.

But, I remember that young me. With a smile on my face. With the world still bright and full of possibilities.

I remember him dancing wildly to a bunch of old records on a antique record player.

I remember him being fascinated.

I remember him loving people. Forgiving them.

I remember him admiring the distant and seemingly adventurous father he had. His own personal Han Solo.

I remember the sexual abuse.

I remember imagining it would be better to be a girl.

I think of all those I tried to save. The schizophrenic homeless people that went to the inner city church I grew up in.

The prostitutes. The addicts that would come and go.

The belief that God could heal people.

The gnawing self doubt that I wasn’t making the grade.

I used to admire depression too. Peter said he listened to his old records one last time before selling them off because he knew they did nothing but glorify pain. I’m paraphrasing an unreliable memory of course.

Maybe it’s time to let you go. Consider ‘I’ nothing but a memory. Today there is just a body who has awareness and sensuousness and intelligence. Call him Andrew. When ‘I’ haunts the body from time to time, remember how ‘I’ is no longer valid. Andrew doesn’t need it. Andrew lives here. Here is a lot nicer anyways.

I think so too.

There is this “proper” narrative which I feel compelled to conform to.

A tragic poem. An epic saga.

It feels so meaningful.

Everything I ever admired I am.

How can someone with 35 million in the bank put a shotgun in their mouth?

That’s not me of course. But… I get it.

To fulfil the legend. To fulfil the scriptures.

I find it so terrifying.

Vineeto didn’t talk with Richard for two years after that video.

He said it’s beyond terror.

I always had this imagination of a dramatic cathartic event.

It’s a template. Something I believe in with all my soul.

I appreciate the reply @JonnyPitt

I don’t want to fail my sons.

Leave them with this disgusting tragedy of manhood.

For sure, your sons are human too. They don’t want to live without their father and with the baggage of his suicide. Not a considerate thing to do at all. Don’t let the past and future make you forget that. There are nice things to focus on. Things happening now. And things to look forward too. Even the looking forward to those nice things is nice. A lot of nice things. Your mood can be nice too

I feel that only in seeing that I am the “horror with eyeballs” that I have the softness towards them.

I work with my middle son now. Have for a few months.

After last Wednesday, I hug him many times a day at work. I don’t care what anyone thinks.

I don’t care whatever it is I am meant to be teaching him.

This morning, I went up to the director who had been so helpful to me on the phone last Wednesday and hugged her. Told her I missed her. ( She had been away on holidays in Bali I found out).

Although I can’t shake the alcoholism yet, I feel devoted to my fellow humans. I wouldn’t want them to suffer on account of me.

The terror is there though. Being alive or being dead is terrifying to me these days.

The highlight of my day is the 8 minutes on my electric scooter to and from the office. Feeling that boyish freedom of launching off the curb, getting my balance back and feeling my ability to face uncertainty with the skill of a child-like bravado.

it doesn’t have to be limited to the commute. I wouldn’t ride while intoxicated though.

Alcoholism is tough. Mainly because of the hangovers. They really fuck up with your next day. Meetings might help. A replacement drug like weed might help.

Essentially, I am not going through anything unique to me, in the sense of having nothing to hope for. It’s just I was holding on to hope for longer than some do.

The hole I must step out of is despair. Which was what the hope was there to cover over.

I do have to be willing to let go of the glorification of despair.

It was extremely “cool” in my generation to despair. It’s not so cool now, for a 47 year old. Indeed, it was those of the previous generation trying to make out to make a buck off the young, that glorified the despair to begin with.

However, having been on this trajectory during the formation of my adult identity, which built on the eschatological nihilism of my childhood self, which itself was formed from all pervasive conviction that someone is to blame for “sin”, leaving it behind has been obviously difficult.

It’s not like I haven’t seen all of this before.

However, there is no question that whilst the cause of despair is the human condition, the reinforcement of it’s grip is all around me.

I am fortunate to be here in a liberal democracy, with both geography and a powerful alliance keeping the worst of that grip (war) away.

It’s certainly a luxury to sit here in such safety.

In short, what I am going through is the culmination of the gods I held dear being seen for the travesty they are.

The recycling of one generations angst onto the next.

I had a great day today. I didn’t intend on “investigating” yesterday, it was more lamenting, but it seems that the conclusion of “letting go of the glorification of despair” actually hit the mark.

It feels like just the seeing of what I was doing, may have moved my mood away from that dark place.

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“ Vineeto didn’t talk with Richard for two years after that video.”

May I ask what you are referring to?

The PCE video. I believe.

There was a time when it terrified her so much, that she avoided Richard.

She may have written about it, or it may have been something we talked about in person.

In the spirit of sharing when things are going good;

I had a wonderful afternoon (Sunday) yesterday.

I lay in the winter sun, in my back yard and snoozed. It was one of the loveliest things I have done in years.

Just me, in my jocks on a couple of old sun deck chair cushions I had rescued from the side of the road last year.

I went to the gym. Really enjoyed it.

Didn’t drink any alcohol. Certainly didn’t touch mushrooms.

I made a decision; that it was worth sticking around just to see what happens in the world. It maybe the worst show (the wars, and whatever), but just like a bad movie, sometimes it’s just worth watching to the end. Who knows?

Also you can do the best you can to make it the best show! And you know what the best you can do is :grin:

Indeed. :exploding_head::tada:

The future is a space we can enjoy doing things now.