What I Am Is What I Am

When last we spoke it was August 18, 2019 and I had just moved into an efficiency apartment after being homeless for six months. I had some of my possessions in a storage locker; others had been given away by the homeless shelter after I went into the hospital for the second time. I finally had a place of my own. Really my own. My kids had been taken away by CPS in 2016, and my wife abandoned me in 2017, but my present reality was that homelessness was over. Time to regroup.

Except for one unfinished event. My wife still had not filed for divorce. I waited for her to file because one, I had no money; and two, she was the one who left me- why should I be the one to pay for a divorce. So I waited. And waited. 

In the meantime I found myself living across the street from a Catholic Church, so I decided to start attending. It was an average parish, Mass lasting around 45 minutes, homilies kind of blah; but I was on my own and needed something, anything to keep myself occupied. I wasn't suicidal anymore but living with my own thoughts wasn't always productive. I missed my kids. And even though she had treated me wrongly, I missed my wife. Months had become years, but as long as she hadn't filed for divorce, there was still that 1% chance that she would come back.

In January of 2020 she filed for divorce. 

The hearing was scheduled for March of 2020. Also scheduled for March of 2020 was the beginning of the Coronavirus pandemic, which upended life as we knew it. Stores were closed, restaurants were closed, churches were closed, and Domestic Relations Courthouses were closed. The hearing would be held over the phone. Finally this would reach a conclusion. I nervously called the courthouse. 

She didn't show. Hearing delayed until May 21. I holed up in my apartment, all dressed up with literally no place to go, and waited it out. Days dragged by slowly...

But finally May 21 came. The hearing would be held via videoconference, which malfunctioned on my end so I never got to see her, just the judge. He asked me questions, he asked her questions, and then made his decision. Due to the fact that we had lived apart for three years, "Wife is granted a divorce from Husband." 

It was over. Here lies Sean's marriage, August 8, 1998-May 21, 2020.

There was no chance of reconciliation, no changing of minds... I wasn't married anymore. My very first girlfriend, whom I met when I was 30 years old, decided that she no longer wanted to be with me. This was devastating for me. I had waited so long for a woman to actually want to be with me, and now I had to start over again in an area in which I had never had any luck in. Who wants to be with a 53-year-old divorced man with two adult children? Is this what breakups are like? I had never been through one before. I guess I was due. Huh.

The first person I contacted wasn't my parents, wasn't my therapist, wasn't the Emergency Services hotline operator. The first person I contacted was a 27-year-old man who pastored a local Baptist church. The first thing he said wasn't a verse from the Bible, it wasn't a sermon... he said he was sorry. I wanted to hear someone say that. After texting a bit he suggested that if I wanted to get out and meet some people and socialize, his church was still open. I said that he might not want a guy like me, but if he wanted a newly divorced, rock-and-roll listening, Catholic Mass-attending infidel like me, then I would be glad to attend. He was the first one to reach out to me. After him I called my parents. My mom told me how sorry she was. When I hung up from that conversation it was time to cry.

Oh, I wept all right, and I was close to falling back into some severe depression, but I decided that no, I was not going there. I knew that I needed to make some decisions to keep myself from falling into a hole. So me and God had a little conversation. Prayer wasn't something I did often, and it is still something I have a hard time with. But I told God that starting that day I was going to give the Bible, the Word of God, first place in my life. And even though I didn't feel like I would be a really great Baptist, I decided to attend Brady's church, just because he asked.

Day after day, the Bible became my food and drink, my source of life. I began to read it... and read it some more... and read it some more. I read the whole thing in 49 days. I listened to sermons online and loaded my IPad with commentaries. 

And I attended church. Brady's church became another source of life. It was reasonably small, maybe 75 people, but I enjoyed it.

Let's make something clear. It's hard. It's hard to see married people who are successful at the one thing I had wanted in my life but now would likely never get to enjoy again. It's hard to see people with their kids.It still depresses me to see pictures of newborns and the happiness that people enjoy. But I know that I have to make an effort to stay out of the hole. And the Bible is that way out. I hope that my life will include a new relationship with someone. But if it doesn't? I am on the right path. "The words that I speak to you are spirit and they are life."- John 6:63. Jesus said that.

So where do things stand now? This blog was started with the story of my spiritual journey and branched off into discussions of autism and its effect on my family. I don't really have a log in that fire anymore now that my kids live elsewhere. But the journey goes on. I thought about starting a new blog to reflect my new reality, but I think I am going to stay right here. There are things I would say differently, words I wouldn't use (especially now that a Baptist pastor might be reading), some causes I wouldn't take up. But as the song goes, what I am is what I am.

"If anyone is in Christ they are a new creation; old things are passed away, behold, all has become new."- 2 Corinthians 5:17

Here we are back where we were before

So I left off this blog in April of last year. 2020 maybe the year that time forgot, the year that wreaked havoc on life, but my year from hell was 2019. I became homeless in January of that year. Stayed in a homeless shelter for six months. The Haven Center was a temporary stop, not meant to be permanent, as I kept looking for permanent housing and employment, which was not forthcoming. In the meantime I became very popular in the shelter due to the fact that I had a running car. I became "that guy", the guy you ran to when you needed a ride somewhere. I took people to work, to doctor's appointments, to buy weed (the guy said he was just going to meet a friend, but when he had me park somewhere at night and then took off, insisting he would be "right back", I had my suspicions). For gas money, of course. Cars don't run for free you know.

Finally, when it became apparent that my housing wasn't going to come through, and when it was obvious that I wasn't trying very hard (in the eyes of the staff, anyway), I was given my notice. You have five days to find other arrangements.

I wrote the following on TwitLonger in May of 2019: 

Unlike some blog entries I've done (and if I hadn't forgotten my password this would be a blog entry), I don't have any creative ways to present this information. I could be asked why I'm even posting it. The reason being is that I think the stigma needs to be erased around mental health concerns, especially men's mental health concerns. Or maybe I'm just an attention whore. Or maybe just stupid. The jury is still out.

I have been dealing with depression for years. But lately it has been much worse. With my kids being put into group homes for the disabled, then my wife leaving me, then getting evicted from my home, I have been carrying a lot of weight on my back. Since someone is going to ask, I do see a therapist, I do go to group therapy, and I do take medication. I'm doing all the things I'm supposed to be doing, but when you miss your children terribly and don't have the means to see them, and you haven't dealt well with the fact that the woman you spent 20 years with and vowed to love you forever doesn't want that love anymore, the depression becomes almost more than you can handle.

Until it actually becomes more than you can handle. And then those Percocets that were prescribed after you had dental surgery, the Percocets that you should have dumped down the toilet or turned in to the local police station or whatever way is the correct way to get rid of unused medication... that bottle of Percocets look like the only way out.

I wrote the requisite note, sending final messages to certain people and requests to notify others, and then I took three. And three more. And three more until 30 Percocets were swimming around in my system. I laid down to go to sleep, not expecting to wake up again.

Obviously, I woke up again.

The next morning I decided that I should call the local hospital, just in case that medication had adverse effects on me. Yeah, I know, the whole purpose was for that medication to have adverse effects on me. But since I was still alive, I decided to seek some help. The EMT's came, I got into an ambulance, and I didn't see the homeless shelter again for seven days. I spent that seven days in the psych ward of a local hospital, the purpose of which was to give me the tools (and medication adjustments) so that I wouldn't want to take my life anymore.

Those seven days are over now, and I have some reflections. (None of which involves names or details of those I spent my waking hours with.)

Some people are going to invoke the "selfish" accusation. "People who commit suicide are performing the ultimate act of selfishness, not caring about those around them who love them." To which I say hey, I spent years being unselfish. I cared for two autistic children for years for the simple reason that they were my children, I loved them more than my own life, and besides that, it was my job to love and care for and sacrifice for those children. When they left my household the most common piece of advice I received was to care for myself now. But I didn't know how to do that. I still don't. And when the wife that I loved for 20 years decided that enough was enough, I was really lost.

To those who think that taking those Percocets was a selfish act, well, I'm sorry you feel that way. You obviously don't know me very well and don't understand what I have been through. You don't know what Kate Spade or Robin Williams or Anthony Bourdain or Chris Cornell or Chester Bennington or any one of thousands of individuals, both known and unknown, have been through to have driven them to end their lives.

Am I sorry for what I did? I don't think that I am sorry or not sorry. It happened, I survived, I am moving forward. Writing this isn't going to win me any new friends, it may cause me to lose some, it may cause those I've retained to just think of me as more weird than I already am or walk on eggshells around me. Whatever. I've been on one post-marriage date; admitting that I struggle with suicidal ideation isn't going to get me that second one. Whatever.

I survived and went back to the homeless shelter. I didn't get kicked out. Right away at least. The next day Alexis called me into the office. It was Friday: Gloria was giving me until Tuesday to get out. I had one option: the St. Elizabeth Center, a shelter for men. Only problem was that you didn't get to stay there all day. You were up at 6 and the shelter closed at 7. You came back for breakfast but had to leave again; same for lunch. Shelter opened back up at 6PM.

I really did not want to do that. So I did what any emotionally unhealthy person in my situation might do; I attempted suicide. Again. And went to the hospital. Again.

Since it was my second stay in 2019 I was recommended for Electro-Convulsive Therapy (ECT). According to Psychiatry.org-

Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) is a medical treatment most commonly used in patients with severe major depression or bipolar disorder that has not responded to other treatments.

ECT involves a brief electrical stimulation of the brain while the patient is under anesthesia. It is typically administered by a team of trained medical professionals that includes a psychiatrist, an anesthesiologist, and a nurse or physician assistant.

I was in the hospital for 10 days this time, and received four (I think) ECT treatments. The jury is still out for me as to whether they were successful. I didn't feel any different. I didn't plan on attempting suicide again (I was out of prescription medication anyway), but my depression still remained. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I left the hospital and was taken straight to the Nord Center Crisis Stabilization Unit where I stayed for at least a month, maybe longer. This was a 12-bed short term stay unit. I shared a room with two other guys, attended group therapy on a semi-regular basis, and continued to pursue other housing alternatives. My third psychiatric-related facility of the year.

Finally, in August of 2019 I was given the opportunity to move into an efficiency apartment managed by the Lorain Metropolitan Housing Authority, an apartment I still live in today. The first good thing to happen to me in several years. I didn't have my kids, I didn't have my wife, but I did have an opportunity to make a new start, so I took it. Homeless no longer. Two months after that I was approved for disability payments (SSI) based upon my mental health over 2019.

Things started to improve for me. My mental health was still touch and go but I wasn't in danger of another suicide attempt. I wasn't anywhere near close to finding employment, for reasons that I may cover in another blog entry. Maybe. Not sure I want to go there publically yet.

This is getting long, much longer than I anticipated. 2020 began my comeback. I will take up that subject in the next blog entry.

Aware

Dani 🌙 #KILLTHISLOVE‏ @pinkzukos

It’s #WorldAutismAwarenessDay and I wanna repeat things:

-Don’t support autism speaks

-Vaccines don’t cause autism

-Don’t use autism as an insult

-Don’t refer to us as the r word (or use it at all)

-Autism is a spectrum

-Treat us with respect and keep this energy ALL year

Ink Master‏Verified account @inkmaster 1h1 hour ago

We're celebrating #WorldAutismAwarenessDay with this beautiful piece by @skinwerks!  #LightItUpBlue

34 years. She has been caring for her son for 34 years. She came to the shelter three weeks ago. The shelter can be kind of loud at dinner time so he plugs his ears, a behavior that tipped me off that maybe, just maybe, her son is on the spectrum. I don't like that I can recognize these things, I would rather that I was wrong and he was just having an earache or something, but his mother confirmed it. He is on the autism spectrum.

Fashion Honors Autism‏ @AutismHonors

It’s World Autism Awareness Day! Help us raise Autism awareness by posting a picture of you wearing blue to your Twitter with #worldautismawarenessday. Be sure to tag @fashionhonorsautism.

LosViLLe Africa‏ @LosVilleAfrica

#WorldAutismAwarenessDay #LosViLLeAfrica

Don't try to fix us, we're not broken

He spoke once, but not anymore. His mother says that he lost whatever words he had a long time ago. Now he makes guttural sounds, and gestures with his hands wildly when he gets agitated. She wants to get her son into a workshop setting but once a special needs person becomes an adult, the options become limited. She loves her son. She accepts her son. But damn does she look tired all of the time.

Mia Siegert [semi-hiatus to write/make costumes]‏ @MiaSiegert

It's #WorldAutismAwarenessDay. I want to apologize because in Jerkbait in one part I used "with autism" as a descriptor for a play rather than "autistic" because I didn't think about implications, ableism, etc. I'm *not* neurotypical, but that doesn't give me a pass. I'm sorry.

Eleanore Hutch‏ @elehutch

Since it keeps popping up, think its good to state the correct terminology on #WorldAutismAwarenessDay. No one "suffers" from Autism, they are autistic/have autism. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

ChikoritaCheezits (Birthday Tomorrow!)‏ @ChikoritaCheez

Happy #WorldAutismAwarenessDay to everyone except Autism Speaks.

Mx. Amadi‏ @amaditalks

On this #WorldAutismAwarenessDay be reminded that Autism Speaks is a genocidal hate group.

She isn't concerned with what people with too much time on their hands think of Autism Speaks. She doesn't care about Twitter and "people-first" language and what people consider a hate group which is really not; what she cares about is her son. Today on World Autism Awareness Day I tip the proverbial hat to her and her son and to all those who expend the little energy life has given them in caring for a child whose sufferings would make them cry, if they had the time in the day to cry.

(For privacy's sake I refrained from using the name of her and her son. I didn't refrain from using the names of those who made their Twitter rantings public in the first place.)

Homeless, etc.

I was recently evicted from the house I was living in for non-payment of rent. I have been working with the local mental health association to help me find work, but nothing has come through. So the landlord had to do what they had to do, and took me to court. I was given seven days to move; fortunately the mental health association was also willing to pay for a storage locker so I could keep some of my things. The rest of my things went to the curb.

And on January 14th I officially became a statistic- I joined the ranks of the homeless.

When I drove away from my house I had no guarantee that I would be able to find someplace to sleep that night. I made a call to an emergency placement number, who took the pertinent information and then told me they would be sending my information around to shelters to see who had open beds. At that point it became a waiting game. I walked through the mall with the rest of the mall-walkers. I spent time at the public library. I wept. Finally I received a call- there was a bed available at a shelter in Lorain. Here's the address. Good luck.

I arrived at the shelter, suitcase in tow, and after copious amounts of paperwork I found myself sharing a room with five other men of various ages. One of them introduced himself and began to show me the ropes. Here's what to do. Here's what not to do. Dorm rooms close between 9AM and 5PM, but you don't have to leave the building. Bedcheck at 10PM. If you aren't there and haven't made prior arrangements with the staff they give you a check mark, which could work against you if you get too many. You'll get daily chores. It's noisy. You'll get used to it.

If you are looking to serve your community in some way, the homeless are in need. Food, clothing, toiletries, socks (oh Lord do I need socks), haircuts (oh Lord do I also need a haircut), baby items…. We do get donations but could always use more. I am thankful for the churches and individuals who have given items to the shelter.

Over the course of the two weeks I have been here I have heard several stories. One person had been in jail. More than one person lost their job and their home. Several people have jobs but can't afford housing. Men, women, boys and girls all reside there. Two women just had babies. Two are pregnant.

All deserve love and dignity.

If you are interested in donating please contact the Haven Center in Lorain at 1536 E. 30th St. Phone number (440) 277-9272.

For my first blog entry in a year this one is kind of short and not as flashy as some I've written in the past. No theology, no song lyrics, no fancy word play. Just a need.

The Miracle (of Matthew MacNair) - the 18th birthday

I was chasing down the days of fear
Chasing down a dream before it disappeared
I was aching to be somewhere new
Your voice was all I heard

It was April of 1999 when it started, the call. The call to riches and glory. The call to something greater than myself. The call to be the official father of the new millennium.

I'm a numbers guy, so I did the math. I knew that the first baby born in the year 2000 was going to have publicity (and free stuff) thrust upon them, and by golly I wanted a piece of that action. The end of March-beginning of April 1999 was when things would have to begin. So... my wife went off the pill, and, well, just use your imagination. Or maybe not. It could get ugly.

God saw through my materialistic desires, however, and conception did not take place in March. Or April. Maybe May? Because at the beginning of June, when my wife's body behaved as a broken typewriter would, we went to the drugstore. Not having any experience with such things, my wife asked the female employee who asked us how she could help us which one she would buy. After a short discussion about the merits of various devices we walked out with two of them, went home, and underwent the process.

Plus sign. Yeah, we were pregnant all right.

I was young, not dumb
Just wishing to be blinded
By you, brand new
And we were pilgrims on our way

My wife was a small woman, but man, was this baby getting big. I thought it would be cool if the baby was 10 pounds when it was born. I mean, bragging rights, man! 10-pound baby! Not many people are awarded this honor! My wife did not see things my way, however, and let me know in no uncertain terms that a 10-pound baby was not passing through, well, "there".

On January 31, 2000, the ob-gyn decided that enough was enough, and that this baby was coming out now. My wife was admitted to the hospital, and the next morning was administered a drug designed to speed up the process. Speed up the process. Yeah. Famous last words. February 1st came and went... the first day.

February 2nd came, and still, 3cm, that's it. Finally the doctor said the words both scary and magic- "C-Section". The baby was coming that afternoon. It's getting real up in this hiz-ouse.

I woke up at the moment when the miracle occurred
Heard a song that made some sense out of the world
Everything I ever lost, now has been returned
In the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard

I was going to miss having the baby be born the old-fashioned way, but coming through a window instead of the door? Cool, man! They had her spread out in what amounted to a crucifix position, a curtain blocking her view, and her belly cut open all the way across with the flap of skin stretched up. I saw her guts, man! You think you know your spouse, but you don't really know her until you see her guts.

And with a little pulling, a miracle occurred. There was a human being in there, a little purple thing bleating like a sheep. The most beautiful sound I ever heard. Matthew Stanley MacNair, the fourth of five generations of MacNair men to have the name Stanley, named after my great-grandfather, my grandfather, and my dad.

Everything I ever lost, now has been returned
In the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard
We can hear you
We can hear you
We can hear you

That day seems so far away now, but the anniversary of that day approaches for the 18th time on February 2nd. My boy becomes a man. I will have an adult child. He doesn't live with me anymore, the severities of his autism making a residence at a group home a necessity. He hasn't lived at home in two years. He will live in my heart forever.

It's on a Friday this year, so he'll get the big celebration at school. Not that it matters that much. He doesn't understand birthdays, he doesn't understand celebrations such as these. Autism has robbed us of so many things parents get to enjoy.

But fatherhood has given me oh, so much.

He likely doesn't even understand what I mean when I say "I love you, son." I say it anyway. I love you, son, with all of my heart. I miss you tremendously. Happy Birthday. And many, many more.

I woke up at the moment when the miracle occurred
I get so many things I don’t deserve
All the stolen voices will someday be returned
The most beautiful sound I’d ever heard
Your voices will be heard
Your voices will be heard

all song lyrics from The Miracle (of Joey Ramone) by U2

It is awfully hard to believe in God when He doesn't believe in you

So it's 2018 now. Good. Ready to leave 2017 in the rear-view mirror.

A lot of people do the resolution thing; I don't always do so, seeing as how you can make a change in your life any time you want. You don't need a calendar flip to make it legit. But we're human beings; sometimes we need some sort of structure. So OK. Time to make a change.

I've been thinking a lot about God, and Jesus Christ, and church, and my place in the whole thing. Quite frankly I'm ready to ditch the whole thing. But I've been doing the belief thing for over 30 years now, ever since I was in high school and went on a retreat that made belief in Jesus Christ something desirable, something worth having. "God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life!" is what the Campus Crusade people told me. Well... ok. Sounds good. Let's see what this wonderful plan is all about.

"God sent his son Jesus Christ to die for you." Well... ok. Sounds good on the surface. But is that the sole extent of his involvement in our lives? Jesus Christ died so we can have eternal life in heaven... but what about the 70-plus years we have left to live on this earth? Can we reasonably expect that he could intervene in our suffering so we don't have to deal with it, so we can be somewhat happy in the time we have left? Or does he die on the cross, rise again and sit at the right hand and that's it?

And what about church? At this point I would rather go to a Grateful Dead concert than church; I mean, Deadheads have a common experience of joy, they share the things they have in common, they are kind to one another, all the things you should be able to expect out of church. But church? You're doomed if you don't listen to the right music, you're really doomed if you don't vote for the right candidate... if you don't live up to the ideals that are set out by the authorities of the church then you are rightly and justly screwed, in the sight of God and man.

My life has fallen into the craphole this past year. What do I have left to believe in? Yet, most of my friends still want me to believe. Whether that is because my rapidly developing unbelief makes them uncomfortable or they honestly have my best interests at heart is anyone's guess. So...

It is 2018. Let's give this church thing one more try. I'm willing to give it another shot. Maybe I'm naïve, maybe I'm stupid, maybe some tiny scrap of hope is fighting for survival... I don't know. But I plan on going to church again. But this is it, God. I'm tired of being your whipping boy.

I welcome your input. Constructive input.

Down in a hole and I don't know if I can be saved
See my heart I decorate it like a grave
You don't understand who they thought
I was supposed to be
Look at me now a man
Who won't let himself be

Down in a hole, feelin' so small
Down in a hole, losin' my soul
I'd like to fly, but my wings have been so denied

---Alice In Chains, "Down In A Hole"

It is what it is

So yesterday I worried some people by the things I was tweeting. Made people think that I was going to hurt myself. Well...

Let me tell you what has been happening in my life. For most of my adult life my goal was to be a husband and a father. This is what I aspired to. Not riches and prestige, but love and the things that surround it. Yeah, I know, not very manly by society's definition of what it takes to be a man, but that's it. I dreamed of the day that I would be married, that I would hold my children fresh from the factory that created them, that I would see them off to school, that I would have conversations with them and watch them grow into their own person. I wanted to be a husband and a father.

Well, autism kind of ruined some of those goals, but I simply had to re-adjust my expectations. I still loved my wife and children with my whole being. Everything just became a little harder is all. I had to forget about hearing my children call me daddy or tell me that they loved me. My wife and I struggled a little bit harder to keep our relationship intact.

My son's autism became extremely difficult to handle. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that it was likely much more difficult for him than it was for me. But that's not to say that it wasn't difficult for me at all. And my wife as well. It was very difficult. My son hurt us frequently. He literally tore our house apart. Banged holes in the wall with his head, and then tore those holes into larger holes, and then carved holes in between rooms. It looked like a war zone. Like something from The Walking Dead.
Children's Services was called on us, and they decided that our house was too dangerous for our two children to live in. Our children were assigned to group homes a couple of hours away from us. In February 2016 they moved out of our house. They were 16 and 13.

This was like a kick to the balls for me. Unexpected and hurt like hell. Yeah, I was (and am) still their father. But it wasn't supposed to be like this. Almost two years later and I still feel the pain from their leaving. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that I can still go and see them and other people don't have that option with their kids. In the grand scheme of things my pain isn't anywhere near as bad as those parents who lose their kids to death. But we don't live in the grand scheme of things, we live in the small scheme of things, and in the everyday small scheme of things I have felt the pain every day for all of those 673 days. And counting.

But wait... there's more. In March of 2017 my wife decided to cash in her chips and call it a day on our marriage. Again, the steel-toed boot of life met my spiritual groin with a strong WHACK! And all of the goals that I had in life were shattered.

This is a moment that still hurts. The pain grows exponentially. It hasn't subsided. I am sad. I am depressed. "Dude, it has been nine months, you need to move past it, you need to get over it." Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get that. But when you have to live it, it isn't so easy to pontificate. I hope you never have to find out what it is like. If you have already lived it, I am sorry. Because it hurts like hell.

I have been prescribed four different kinds of medication to manage the depression I have dealt with for a good portion of my life, but it isn't helping. I have turned to church, to God as I understand him/her/it. It isn't helping. I listen to the Grateful Dead and take care of my parents and watch wrestling and play board games, but at the end of the day the house is still empty, my voice echoes with no one to listen, and sometimes I weep. Oh hell, who am I kidding, I weep a lot.

"Don't hurt yourself... it's a permanent decision for a temporary problem... you'll go to hell..." Hey, man, I've heard it all. And so far I have been successful at turning back the beckoning call of the medication on my shelf, pills meant to quell a different kind of pain. I am doing all of the right things, OK? I am seeing a psychiatrist. I am seeing a therapist. I call on some friends when things get too hard to handle. I have also been to churches that don't care to call me back when I check off "please call me back" on the information card. I am part of a divorce support group in which I am the only man and the others have relationships with each other that I am not invited to partake of. I am doing my best here. But sometimes my best isn't good enough.

I tweet things that people don't want to read because this is my reality. In a social media world where people invent personas and post funny pictures and pretend that everything is all right, I am unwilling to follow. The state of the union is not good. Everything is not all right. And I just can't pretend otherwise.

So I go to bed now, ready for the 674th day without my children, the 287th day without my wife, with no end in sight, and no end expected. "Things get better"... but not this time. My kids are not coming back, my wife isn't either. The odds are still pretty good that I will not do something stupid and hurt myself, regardless of what my prior tweets may have indicated. But the feelings are still there.

That's why we pray... or is it?

On a mission start to doubt here we go
Kicking back, read these words we need to know
Living high, living good, living long
Take a minute, bust a prayer
And you're good to go

That's why we pray
ah, yeah, pray
We need to pray
Just to make it today
---MC Hammer, "Pray"

(Jesus Walks)
God show me the way because the Devil trying to break me down
(Jesus Walks with me)
The only thing that that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now
(Jesus Walks)
And I don't think there is nothing I can do now to right my wrongs
(Jesus Walks with me)
I want to talk to God but I'm afraid because we ain't spoke in so long
---Kanye West, "Jesus Walks"

hey, jesus, it's me
i'm the one who talked to you yesterday
and i asked you please, please for a favor
but my baby's gone away, went away anyway
and i don't really think it's fair
you've got the power to make us all believe in you
and then we call you in our despair
and you don't come through...

i'm not gonna call on you any more
i'm sure you've got a million things to do
all i was trying to do was to get through to you
because when i die and i get up to your doors
i don't even know if you're gonna let me in the place
how come i gotta die to get a chance to talk to you face to face?
---Indigo Girls, "Hey Jesus"

It happens every time there is a tragedy. Earthquakes. Hurricanes. Shootings. 9/11. The response is the same, regardless of place in society- "Our prayers are with the people of Puerto Rico." "We pray for the people of Houston." #PrayForFlorida. A child dies in a small town, the news appears on a website, and the comments are all very similar- "I'm so sorry! I'm praying for you."

I don't. I know, I know, I'm a Christian, I shouldn't be a heartless bastard. Prayer should be the first thing I should offer.

But I just can't.

Why do we pray? In times of tragedy everyone says that they'll pray for you, but what's the point? Is God listening? If God is listening, why doesn't he answer? I've had people say to me that "sometimes God answers yes, and sometimes no, and sometimes wait", and my response to that is that it's a load of crap. If God (supposedly) answers no or wait, then he didn't answer. Ignore my son's autism for a moment. Let's say that I ask him to take the garbage out on Wednesday night, because the trash collector comes Thursday morning. He takes it out Thursday night. Did he answer my request? No, he did not. It doesn't matter that he did the job, the job needed to be done at a certain time and he didn't do it. Same with praying to God. If someone is down on their luck and prays to God for a job, a request born not out of selfishness but out of necessity, and they do what needs to be done to seek a job, and said job doesn't come, then God didn't answer that prayer. Or at best you can say that the evidence is inconclusive.

How about prayers for healing? Why do we have to pray over and over again for someone to be healed of cancer, for instance? What's the point? Doesn't God hear you the first time? And suppose you pray and pray, and the person dies anyway? Your prayers are wasted. Already I can hear people saying "but the person did get healed…they aren't in pain anymore…they received the ultimate healing…" blah blah blah. My answer is no, they did not get healed and God did not answer the prayer. To answer any other way is to dance around the issue. You're playing semantics. God then becomes a divine Bill Clinton who dances around the obvious meaning of a word. (See the word "is".) If I pray for someone to be healed, my intention is obvious. I want them healed in this life. Any other twist on the statement is just making excuses for God.

I have made numerous trips to Rainbow Babies and Children's Hospital with my son. While there I've seen small children in wheelchairs who seem to be in a catatonic state, the same expression seemingly frozen on their faces for all eternity. They don't care about LeBron James… or maybe they do; Donald Trump is the last thing on their mind… or maybe not; we don't know. They don't communicate other than to stare. For some people their first response would be to offer their prayers. My first thought?

WTF?

How am I supposed to pray here? First off, I shouldn't even have to pray for healing. If God can't see that this kid needs healing… it's obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain. Do I pray for the parents to have peace of mind? Do I pray for the doctors to have wisdom? I mean, come on!

And yet throughout the Bible we are exhorted to pray. Jesus says "WHEN you pray," not IF, and then gives instructions. The disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray. Paul says "Pray without ceasing." So my struggle is this- I know that I need to pray, yet I have issues with praying for things, because there doesn't seem to be much of a point. You pray for healings, but for as many people that do get healed, more people suffer and die. Or they get healed in a year, although in the natural process of things they would have been healed anyway. You pray for people that genuinely need certain things, and they don't get them. I just don't get it.

Do I need to change my definition of what prayer is? We come to God with our shopping lists and then don't come back unless we have another list. I realized that if my children only came to me when they wanted something, and no other time, my experience as a parent would be cut short. There are times when my daughter would crawl up on my lap, curl up against me and watch the game with me. It doesn't matter what game, she has no sense of what constitutes "the big game" as opposed to one between two 1-10 teams; spending time with me is the experience she seeks. And it is that experience that defines the joy of being a parent for me. So should we always present God with our wants? Shouldn't we just crawl up into his lap sometimes and express our love?

A few years ago I went to a Catholic charismatic conference and heard a speaker named Ralph Martin. He has been a leader in Catholic renewal since the charismatic movement started in 1967, yet in the last several years he has concentrated on the spirituality of the saints. The talk I heard was on the stages of union with God according to the writings of St. Theresa of Avila, and it was fantastic. It opened my mind to the possibility that I've had it all wrong; that the goal of prayer is union with God, and the presenting of our petitions is peripheral to this central purpose.

Within the same time frame I was introduced to the teachings of Mike Bickle. Mike has made the focus of his ministry exhorting Christians to seek the face of the Lord and pray what David prayed in Psalm 27:4- "...one thing I ask, this one thing I seek, that I may behold the beauty of the Lord…." He views the Song of Solomon in an allegorical format popular with the early Church fathers, teaching that the bridegroom represents Jesus and the bride represents the church, and Jesus longs to draw us to himself in a relationship of love. Prayer in this paradigm is not simply airing our requests and grievances, although intercession is certainly a part, but sitting at the feet of Jesus as Mary did while Martha busied herself with the tasks of everyday life.

And then there is Witness Lee. Witness Lee uses the phrase "the economy of God" to stress that God's central plan is to dispense himself into his chosen people, the church. Our goal above all other things is to dwell in our spirit where Christ has made his home, and from that ground all other things have their growth.

So to answer the question "has Sean given up prayer?", the answer is "you know? I just don’t know." I pray that I would experience and enjoy the love of God in the same way that my son and daughter enjoy my love. I pray that the stages of illumination, purgation and union would be a reality in my own spiritual life and not just a theory to be studied in a textbook. But I haven't gotten through my difficulties with intercession. I may never. I can’t find people who are willing to take on the task of trying to explain it to me, and stick with it when I ask questions counter to their theology. I try to believe that my requests are heard. When life went south on me over the past year, the first thing I did was ask everyone I knew who might possibly pray for me to do so. But at this point.. I just can't. Maybe if I could get one prayer answered, God? Of course, if I understood all things, faith wouldn't be necessary. I guess. What do I know?

Just a few thoughts, your mileage may vary.

Broken

How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace
When I stand here taking every breath with you
You're the only one who really knew me at all

How can you just walk away from me,
When all I can do is watch you leave
Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears
You're the only one who really knew me at all

So take a look at me now, oh there's just an empty space
And there's nothing left here to remind me,
Just the memory of your face
Oh take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space
And you coming back to me is against the odds and that's what I've got to face

I wish I could just make you turn around,
Turn around and see me cry
There's so much I need to say to you,
So many reasons why
You're the only one who really knew me at all...

Always knew there was a reason I listened to 80's music, huh? Sometimes the song lyrics say everything I wish I could. Some sing to remember, some sing to forget.

Sad songs, they say so much.

To be continued.

The Loop

Look out of any window
Any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining
Birds are winging or
Rain is falling from a heavy sky,
What do you want me to do,
To do for you to see you through?
For this is all a dream we dreamed
One afternoon long ago...

It was a February day in 2016. I wish it had been a dream. A dream you at least get to wake up from. This? Nada.

My son Matthew was born with severe autism, and my daughter Rebecca as well. Immediately the zealots will take issue with that, suggesting that they weren't born with it but developed it somewhere along the line. Well, I really don't give a rat's ass for zealots of any stripe, so we are just going to go with the birth definition. They both walked on time, but didn't speak, and still haven't. Our lives became one of IEPs and endless meetings to discuss why Matthew played with his poop and why Rebecca dug in her privies and why Matthew caused one teacher to sprain her arm and why Rebecca screamed and screamed. We had no answer. We sure wish we had one, or two, or a dozen; sure would have helped deal with the fact that as time went on Matthew hurt us and Rebecca was afraid of him and Matthew destroyed our house and Rebecca had to sleep in a room with drywall and insulation hanging from every corner.

Well God bless the zealots who took it upon their zealoty selves to decide that we were crappy parents who couldn't keep our kids out of danger. Yeah, I'm still bitter. How'd ya guess? We developed an intimate relationship with Children's Protective Services, and not in the fun way, either. Frequent visits and even more endless meetings ensued and eventually it was decided that both Matthew and Rebecca had to be removed from our home.

Walk out of any doorway
Feel your way, feel your way
Like the day before
Maybe you'll find direction
Around some corner
Where it's been waiting to meet you,
What do you want me to do,
To watch for you while you're sleeping?
Well please don't be surprised
When you find me dreaming too...

It was on a February morning when our lives changed forever. Electric word life, it means forever and that's a mighty long time, but I'm here to tell you, there's nothing else. When you spend 15 years expending all the energy you have and then some to keep some semblance of sanity in your life, and then all of a sudden you move from 60 to 0, stopping on a dime... it changes a man. And a woman. More on that later.

"But you have your life back now! You can recover, you can heal, you can live again instead of being held hostage to autism!" (The autism zealots are in the starting gate, ready to tell me what is wrong with that statement; I would suggest to them that they just listen instead of lecturing. Give it a thought at least.)

There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

You, who choose to lead, must follow
But if you fall you fall alone.
If you should stand then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home....

On March 2nd my wife decided that she had had enough, screw this, she was out of here. For an explanation you would have to ask her. I'm not going to answer for her. The pressure was huge on both of us for years, and we had no time to make sure that our relationship was healthy. It obviously was not, otherwise we would still have one.

So the pain continues. It has never left. If anything it has multiplied. I titled this little essay "The Loop" for the simple reason that some people need to be brought into the know, to possibly understand why Sean is so moody, why Sean cries at the drop of a hat, why Sean alternately needs to be around people but at the same time just can't watch happy families when his own has disintegrated. My heart is full of pain because it is empty of everything I ever held dear. All that I ever wanted was to raise a family, get married and have children. That's all. Well....

(This is where I really want to let the expletives fly. But there might be some Baptists reading this, so for their sake I will dispense with the hardcore swear words. Maybe use some Christian cusses. Dagnabit.)

Since someone is going to ask, either to me directly or to themselves as they read these words and walk on by, yes, I do see a therapist. I am on medication. I am starting with a divorce support group in a few days. I am doing what I can.

To quote Gerald Ford, the state of the union is not good. People suggest that I must have some endless well of inner strength. Well... I don't. I am not strong. I am not strong.

Not sure why I wrote all of this other than maybe someone just needed it brought to the forefront. Just a box of rain, wind and water; believe it if you need it, if you don't just pass it on.

Walk into splintered sunlight
Inch your way through dead dreams to another land
Maybe you're tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted with words half spoken and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
To do for you, to see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through

(Song lyrics from the songs "Box of Rain" and "Ripple", both by the Grateful Dead.)

Coward

One thing I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To explain in due time
All I know...

I'm not a coward. Just because the most important people in my life being ripped away from me makes it difficult for me to survive in this existence doesn't mean I am a coward. It means that I can't shower the people I love with my whole heart with the love they deserve. I try. I'm not succeeding.

It was 529 days ago when my son was taken to live in another home, and 527 days for my daughter. Many nights of weeping, of wondering how to go on, of how someone else can take care of the children who call me daddy and rely on me for hugs and cookies and rides to the store. At that time I thought that it would be the most difficult thing I would ever have to endure.

Boy was I mistaken.

Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It's so unreal...

It's been 142 days. 142 days since my love left my life. 142 days since I've been able to say "Sean and..." and include a woman's name on the other side. 142 days since the last kiss, the last embrace, the last look into the eyes of the one I vowed to love, honor and cherish until death do us part.

Life is empty now.

It has been probably 141 days since the first person told me that I needed to live for myself now, since the first person suggested that I would meet someone else someday, since the first person took sides. It seems easy for those on the outside looking in to tell me what I ought to do. I would certainly like to see said people try it themselves.

Not so easy when you have to actually do it.

Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on did-didn't even know
I wasted it all just to watch you go

I kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when I tried so hard...

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I've got nothing to lose by being open, by being honest, I mean, as Bob Dylan sang, when you ain't got nothing you got nothing to lose.

People who struggle with suicide are not cowards. They are people with weaknesses, as many of us have weaknesses we all struggle with, and sometimes you just don't have the strength people think you do, you know? Chester Bennington, Chris Cornell, Robin Williams... the unknown man or woman in the obituaries whose death was "sudden" but unlisted... your cousin, friend's child or former boyfriend or girlfriend... the famous, infamous and unknown.

You just don't know what people are dealing with. Don't suggest that suicide victims are "taking the easy way out" when just the act of living day by day may be the hardest thing they ever have to do. YOU DON'T KNOW.

One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To remind myself how I tried so hard...

I have struggled, I have wept, and yes, I have wondered whether the options for living might possibly include not. I attend counseling sessions, I attend group therapy sessions, I have been hospitalized for days at a time. And yet, when the efforts to be social and seek the help I obviously need are over for the day, I have to come back to a house that is empty yet filled with memories, and a heart that is filled with love that no one longs to receive anymore. And I wonder. Yes, I wonder. Would I miss the Grateful Dead, if... ? Would I miss the church services, if... ? Would those I am surrounded by miss me, if... ? And then the night comes, and I attempt to sleep, and eventually I awake the next day, and the cycle continues. I fight so hard to make it day by day. Yeah, I'm needy. Yeah, I rely on people way too much.

NO, I am not a coward. I am fighting and struggling every day of my life to make it to the next day.

I'm trying not to fail.

It isn't easy.

I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter...

(song lyrics from "In The End" by Linkin Park)

Live-tweeting from the end of the world

3/2/2017	It is official now- my wife has left me.
3/2/2017	Today is one of the top five worst days of my life.
3/2/2017	House is very, very empty this morning.
3/2/2017	She came back to get her things, accompanied by the police. She really isn't coming back. My life is about to change again dramatically.
3/2/2017	Wow. I am really all alone now. I don't know what to do.
3/2/2017	She won't even talk to me. Just... gone. And with that I am scrambling to grab ahold of something to keep me going.
3/2/2017	I am rambling too much. Sorry.
3/2/2017	This was unexpected, What do I do now? Could we start again please? ---Jesus Christ Superstar
3/3/2017	Holding on....
3/3/2017	Morning, everybody.
3/3/2017	Today might be a good day to take up alcoholism. I've heard that hard lemonade and hard cherry cola are pretty good.
3/3/2017	Sadness is creeping up on me. I have got to find something to do.
3/3/2017	20 years this month... our first date was 20 years ago this month. Married for 18 years.
3/3/2017	Really should get out and do something today, but damned if I even want to leave the house.
3/3/2017	I wonder how much soda I would have to order to get the pizza place to deliver it.
3/3/2017	Emptiness. A new feeling which I don't like.
3/3/2017	Shit this day has been bad....
3/4/2017	My thanks to the Baptists that told my wife she had "biblical grounds" to leave me; you never talked to me about it, but you know, whatever
3/4/2017	Good night, all
3/4/2017	Sad today.
3/5/2017	Watching wrestling and Walking Dead tonight. I am used to my wife sitting at the table, not watching, doing her coloring and puzzles.
3/5/2017	It is so quiet in this house now.
3/5/2017	I wasn't a perfect husband, but damn I tried my hardest. Guess my best wasn't good enough.
3/5/2017	Wondering why.
3/5/2017	Damn this is difficult
3/6/2017	I'm sorry I'm so needy. But this was not s supposed to happen.
3/6/2017	I keep checking my phone for texts and messages from her, I check Facebook for PMs from her... nothing.
3/6/2017	I look out the window two dozen times a day, hoping she will come home... nothing.
3/6/2017	I wait for her cutesy comments while I am watching wrestling... nothing.
3/6/2017	I'm lost.
3/7/2017	Day 6 of the separation- no texts, no calls, nothing. I look out the window constantly- nothing. She just disappeared.
3/7/2017	This is just a disastrous mess with no way out. I am very sad.
3/7/2017	*sigh*
3/7/2017	Alone for seven days now. Still haven't heard from her. Sad and depressed. Constantly looking outside, hoping a car comes by with her in it.
3/7/2017	I can't take any steps forward until I know whether she is coming back or not. And she isn't telling me.
3/8/2017	Some days I have to find the little things to keep myself going. Have an interview tomorrow, not too confident, but it's something.
3/8/2017	Sorry, but this hurts. Badly.
3/8/2017	Getting ready to just give up.
3/9/2017	I don't give a shit anymore.
3/11/2017	Not every man is an ignorant fool. Just thought I'd throw that out there.....
3/12/2017	All the positive thoughts in the world ain't bringing her back. She's gone. #depressed
3/13/2017	Whether you believe in prayer, good thoughts, or just toking while listening to the Dead, I will take it. I need it. Desperately.
3/13/2017	I am sinking like a stone. This is not good.
3/13/2017	Yes, I am in touch with counselling services, and the mental health hotline checks in with me nightly.
3/13/2017	It still sucks to lose everything that ever meant anything to you. That's where I'm at.
3/13/2017	Sorry to bum you out. Back to funny memes and reality show talk.
3/14/2017	It's that time of the night- time to weep.
3/14/2017	I have to actually leave the house tomorrow. I suppose that's a good thing.
3/14/2017	hoping that someday I can stop being sad.
3/14/2017	It is unofficially over. She has notified human services that she is no longer living in the household, she has taken her money...
3/14/2017	She has cut off all communication with me. I have no way of trying to work this out because I can't even talk to her....
3/14/2017	My life is crushed. I never thought this would happen.
3/14/2017	I have been sad before, and depressed before, but this is a whole new level of pain.
3/14/2017	I'm so tired of being here Suppressed by all my childish fears... Your presence still lingers here And it won't leave me alone --Evanescence
3/15/2017	Almost invited the Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses over just to have some company. I really need to get out of the house.
3/15/2017	Got a call from Matt's home, his behaviors are increasing again and they want to increase his meds. I wish I could take care of him here....
3/15/2017	We have reached that time of the night when I get sad and weep. Made worse by the fact that my son isn't doing well and I can't help. :(
3/15/2017	To have someone that you love make the choice to walk away- that sucks. Badly.
3/15/2017	Damn it!
3/15/2017	I keep looking out the window hoping that she will come back. Can't decide if that is faith or stupidity.
3/15/2017	I feel freaking hopeless.
3/16/2017	I'm so sad right now. Sorry, but social media is my only connection to people right now. I tweet what I am feeling.
3/16/2017	It is very hard to be alone. To have your kids gone and the love of your life choosing to be apart from you.
3/16/2017	When my wife was here I could see her silly cat pictures she would post on Facebook, and hear about the kids stories she was writing.
3/16/2017	Now... not a damn thing. It is very quiet in this house. I am living alone in a three-bedroom house.
3/16/2017	The desperation settles in like a thick fog. I hear people telling me that it gets better. It is hard to believe.
3/16/2017	I am going to church on Sunday, even though I have been avoiding it. I can't pretend to be happy and put on that happy mask. Not any more.
3/16/2017	OK, Sean, you can quit looking out the window for her. She ain't coming home. Is it faith, or stupidity? I'm not sure.
3/16/2017	Jesus, eHarmony, the corpse isn't even cold yet, quit promoting your services in my timeline
3/17/2017	Something missing from this finger.... Took some effort to carve it off my finger. Not sure what to do with it.
3/17/2017	There comes a time every night when the loneliness and sadness descends like a fog... this is that time.
3/19/2017	Today is not a good day.
3/19/2017	There are good days, and then there are days when the loneliness seems like it will never end.
3/19/2017	There are good days, and then there are days when you wish you knew what happened so you could fix it and welcome her home.
3/19/2017	There are good days, and then there are days when the loneliness just gnaws a hole in your soul.
3/19/2017	I don't hate her. I want her to come home. But the longer she is gone the less likely that seems.
3/19/2017	Keep in mind that in the past year both of my children and my wife have left my house. Thrice as hard.
3/21/2017	Today is bittersweet... the 20th anniversary of my first date with Laura. Not the way I would like to have commemorated it.
3/21/2017	Drove a total of three hours for a one hour meeting.
3/22/2017	You think you're OK after your ex leaves, but some days... BAM! The grief hits you like a ton of bricks.
3/22/2017	Damn it, her parents and some of her friends know where she is. Why won't she talk to me? #Sad
3/22/2017	Here tweets a broken, broken man :(
3/23/2017	Got my answer tonight. I don't like it, shed a lot of tears over it, but at least I know.
3/24/2017	God this hurts today.
3/24/2017	I can't give up. I can't give up. I can't give up.
3/24/2017	I want to give up. But I can't.
3/25/2017	It's a hard thing when someone you've been with for 20 years leaves. Your lives are intertwined for that much time, pain is inevitable.
3/25/2017	You have to figure out who you are apart from that person.
3/25/2017	"Our" belongings, resources, etc. suddenly have to be separated into "his" and "hers". A division that isn't always easy.
3/25/2017	25 days into this separation. I still cry at least once a day. Part of that is the not knowing- could she possibly come back?
3/25/2017	And if she comes back, how can things ever be the same? I don't think they can. I am willing to take responsibility for my faults, though.
3/25/2017	Damn it.
3/27/2017	Well what do you know? I didn't cry today!
3/27/2017	Well, I didn't have any depressive episodes today. So that's a plus.
3/27/2017	Some days are good, some days are sad....
3/28/2017	Thinking about crashing weddings so I can be that one guy who raises his hand when they ask if anyone has any objections.
3/29/2017	Missing my kids today really bad:(
3/30/2017	There are days when I feel ok, and days when I wonder if I will ever be ok again.
3/30/2017	I am awake when I should be asleep, looking at pictures, thinking of happier times.
3/30/2017	Once again I ask, if you believe in prayer, good thoughts or whatever, I'll take it. I need some hope.
3/30/2017	Give me hope, give me hope That emptiness brings fullness And loss of love brings wholeness to us all ---Indigo Girls
3/31/2017	I am constantly checking my email and Facebook for messages from my wife. I either have a lot of faith or I am just really stupid.
3/31/2017	Finally started cleaning up around here, boxing up her things, throwing away odd scraps of paper with her doodles on it...
3/31/2017	Time to face the facts... she's gone. Been gone for a month now. Ain't no April Fools joke.
3/31/2017	Sad today
4/1/2017	Having dreams about falling in love. Haven't had those since before I got married. I hate them because I wake up and realize the reality.
4/1/2017	Going to listen to John Mayer on the way to church today.
4/2/2017	I have to resist the urge, when people post engagement photos, to reply in all caps "DON'T DO IT!!!"
4/2/2017	Massively depressed today.
4/2/2017	It is difficult, when you go on an errand and then come home, to realize that the house is empty, and will continue to be.
4/2/2017	No more silly dog pictures on her timeline, no more hearing about her latest ideas for children's stories, just... no more.
4/2/2017	No hugs when I need them, no long talks into the night, no person physically there that understands how much I miss my children.
4/2/2017	People are dealing with more tragic things than I am. I get that. But the emptiness still remains. One of the difficult things to understand
4/2/2017	I may say too much on social media, but I don't say everything. There are other things going on that have me in a funk and make life hard.
4/2/2017	So if you think I just talk too much about it, well, online is all I have. I don't have anyone in the area to talk with. You folks are it.
4/2/2017	If you put me on mute, I get it. May not like it, but I get it. But at least hold some good thoughts out there for me.
4/2/2017	OK, done whining. For now :)
4/2/2017	Why? What did I do? Why won't she have anything to do with me? These are the questions that haunt me every day since she left.
4/2/2017	And there may never be an answer. In the meantime my heart aches. An emptiness that may never get better.
4/2/2017	I feel like I am at the end of the end of the rope. And there is no soft landing place.
4/2/2017	Sorry for flooding your timeline. I keep on typing t o keep my mind off other things.
4/3/2017	"Gut-wrenching sobs." Found out what that phrase means last night.
4/4/2017	Somebody hit Matt tonight, so they had to call me about it, even though it was barely anything. But I still wish a certain someone was here.
4/4/2017	Some days are good, and then there was yesterday. Wept so hard I started throwing up. This is not an easy process by any means.
4/4/2017	Thank you for your patience with me as I work through this.
4/4/2017	Someone recently told me online- "don't worry, you'll meet another woman". Way too soon for that kind of talk. The corpse isn't cold yet.
4/4/2017	You can't turn 20 years of emotions on and off like a faucet.
4/5/2017	Keeping weird hours this week, ever since Monday's emotional meltdown. Staying up till two, sleeping late and then napping again....
4/5/2017	... trying to sleep regular hours but just can't.
4/5/2017	I can't stand this shit anymore.
4/5/2017	Over a month now and no word from her. I'm so tired of being alone …
4/6/2017	Gonna take my pills and go to sleep now.
4/6/2017	OK, I have to clear something up since I got several messages about this. When I said "take my pills and go to sleep", I meant (cont.)...
4/6/2017	...prescribed doses of psych meds. If I was going to commit suicide, the last thing I would do would be to announce it on social media.
4/6/2017	So, with that said, I am going to bed.
4/7/2017	Grief is funny, hits you when you least expect it. Had a good day today, until Hawaii Five-O came on, which we always watched together.
4/7/2017	Oh, I miss you Laura.
4/7/2017	I feel very lost today. No kids, no wife, hell, even the Jehovah's Witnesses passed my house by today.
4/7/2017	Just don't know what to do to be happy anymore.
4/7/2017	sigh
4/7/2017	life hurts
4/7/2017	life just fucking sucks.
4/7/2017	help
4/9/2017	Decided at the last minute to drive to Canton to see my daughter. Then I'm going to Golden Corral to feed my face just because I want to.
4/9/2017	I've never been thankful for autism. But I am thankful that I don't have to explain to the kids why mom and dad aren't together.
4/10/2017	I am torn between wanting to go on for the sake of my kids, and not wanting to go on because my wife left. I am very sad today.
4/10/2017	Weeping hard today. Going to see my son tomorrow, I hope that helps.
4/10/2017	You think you're finally getting past something, a nd then BAM! It socks you in the face.
4/10/2017	I want her to come back. She's not coming back. I am so sad. And tired of being sad.
4/10/2017	Just got some cheering up from a friend. Thank you. ((((hugs))))
4/10/2017	Got four calls today about Matthew head butting others. Still planning on visiting him tomorrow.
4/11/2017	Screw it, I'm getting drunk tonight.
4/12/2017	*IF* it is going to get better, it has to get better now. For the sake of my sanity and my survival. It has to get better. Now.
4/13/2017	At that point in the evening when the house is quiet and empty. I hate it. #MissMyWife #MissMyChildren
4/13/2017	Saw both of my kids this week. Wish I could do that every week.
4/14/2017	We always watched Hawaii Five-O together. Now I get to watch it by myself. sigh....
4/14/2017	Trying real hard not to cry. It's a battle I'm losing :'(
4/15/2017	It would make my Easter if I heard from my wife today....
4/16/2017	Tired of crying. Would like to go one day without it.
4/17/2017	I miss my wife so much....
4/17/2017	... and I am so tired of being sad
4/17/2017	At my weekly therapy appointment this morning
4/17/2017	I just want to go home and go to sleep for days
4/17/2017	Please please please please please come home, I miss you so much.
4/17/2017	I talk about my current troubles a lot, I know. I don't really have other outlets to express my feelings besides therapy appointments.
4/17/2017	My wife was also my first girlfriend. I met her when I was 30. So obviously I don't have much experience processing breakups.
4/17/2017	I hate this!
4/17/2017	I rely on social media because my best friends are on it. The human flesh-and-blood friends I have only interact with me via social media.
4/17/2017	If you look at my tweets and say "oh, WTF, not this again", yeah, I get that feeling. Sorry but not sorry.
4/17/2017	Sometimes a series of tweets can at least help me process some feeling and get me to the point where I am not as sad.
4/21/2017	Been a decent past three days, no weeping, but I still wonder what my future holds for relationships.
4/21/2017	I was with my wife for 20 years, she was my first girlfriend. Met her when I was 30. So I don't have a huge track record.
4/21/2017	If I thought meeting someone at 30 was tough, I'm 50 now. And damaged goods. How do you fall in love again when you are 50?
4/21/2017	Not that I'm looking to fall in love again. Too soon. I still want my wife back. But that's not looking likely.
4/23/2017	Finally climbing out of the hole.
4/23/2017	I am not depressed today. In fact, I haven't been depressed for several days. No, today I am mad.
4/23/2017	I am mad that someone thinks so little of a 20-year relationship with me that she would just take off from it without talking about it.
4/23/2017	I am mad that I am left in limbo, that she can just leave when she wants and come back (or not) when she wants, and not cluing me in.
4/23/2017	I am mad that her friends are treating this like a high-school game. "Oh, I've heard from her, but I'm not telling you anything!"
4/23/2017	If I had done to her what she has done to me, I would be the enemy. But she leaves, and it is all about her deciding what she wants.
4/23/2017	My 20-year relationship has boiled down to a power play. Who has the power to impose their will on the other? I hate that shit.
4/23/2017	I was never the perfect husband. Never claimed to be. But in order for me to make amends, I have to be able to contact her, not be cut off.
4/23/2017	And if there are no amends to be made, I deserve to know that. None of this "She will tell you when she decides she is ready."
4/23/2017	OK, I am done whining.
5/10/2017	I just realized that I have never broken up with anyone before. I don't know how to do it. Better figure it out soon.
5/12/2017	Just woke up after a dream about my wife .  Second night in a row .  Not a good development.
5/13/2017	This whole "starting my life all over again" stuff? Yeah, I don't like that.
5/13/2017	I really wish I could wish my children's mother a happy Mother's Day. But alas, a restraining order makes that impossible.
5/13/2017	if you are in a relationship, and you see some cracks start to appear, talk it out. With each other.
5/14/2017	Going to see my psychiatrist tomorrow, therapist on Tuesday. Man do we have things to talk about.
5/14/2017	Don't really want to be single again, but the odds of me meeting someone are slim to none and slim's out of town.
5/14/2017	I don't want to be the one to file for divorce. Shit shit shit.
5/15/2017	Divorce is really freaking complicated. Especially when your soon to be ex-wife won't communicate.
5/15/2017	I hate being alone in the house. I miss having someone here
5/16/2017	Slowly separating our stuff into "his" and "hers" piles. Found a tape of songs that we played on our honeymoon. Damn it all to hell.
5/17/2017	77 days since my world turned upside down. J ust when you think you have a handle on things- BAM. Grieving over a relationship sucks.
5/17/2017	Today has sucked royal
5/17/2017	It hurts like hell to lose someone that you have loved so deeply for so long. Sorry to keep bringing this up.
5/18/2017	Pray, smoke a bowl, listen to Jefferson Airplane... whatever you do to give off good vibes to people, I will take it tonight. Been rough.
5/18/2017	damn this hurts like hell. why tonight? thought I was making some headway, but I feel like I've been slugged in the gut with Negan's bat.
5/18/2017	is heartbroken
5/18/2017	Better day today. Sometimes you can handle depression, sometimes it handles you. Like the business end of Negan's bat.
5/20/2017	Had another person tell me that it is now time to live for myself. Still trying to figure out how to do that. Spent 20 years living for her.
5/21/2017	'Cause I wished you the best of
	All this world could give
	And I told you when you left me
	There's nothing to forgive
	But I always thought you'd come back, tell me all you found was
	Heartbreak and misery
	It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way
	You're happy without me
	---Labrinth, "Jealous"