It's Been A While

Hi there.

It’s been a while, I know.

I apologize up front for the length of this but, like I said, it’s been a while.

You probably thought I’d forgotten about you. I haven’t. I think about you every day. 

Really.

I think about a lot of things every day. Night, too. It never stops.

I left Facebook for a while hoping to silence some of the noise. The politics there drive me nuts. For the record, I am one of the two middle-age, white, evangelical Christian men in America who thinks Donald Trump is a complete, well, I won’t say it. It wouldn't be Christian and definitely not evangelical.

The problem is, I’m not a very good Evangelical. Or Christian, for that matter. I question everything and still don’t know what it really means to “love God with all my heart, mind, soul and strength”. I’m honestly not sure anyone does. My inner me leans more toward Buddhism. They like things quiet and learn how to turn off the noise in their heads. And, they all know Kung Fu, right (I’m pretty sure I read that on Facebook)? Not to mention that my male pattern baldness (thanks mom) would no longer be a problem. Unfortunately, Buddhists don’t eat meat (or drink beer) so I wouldn’t fit in very well there, either.

I went to Brazil in November to help build a church in a village along the Amazon River. I love doing things like that though I found that, at 55, the body can’t quite pull off the amazing feats of strength and endurance that it once could. I also discovered that a 6’ 1” man cannot comfortably sleep in a 5’ 10” room.

In December I had the pleasure of taking my wife, younger daughter, son-in-law and Little Dude and the Princess to Missouri for Christmas with my family. This was the first time we spent the holiday with my Missouri family–ever. I loved it, though I know my exuberance often goes unrecognized (I am smiling, damn it). The weather was downright beautiful, which was kind of disappointing as we were hoping for some major snow. Christmas Day in northern Missouri was warmer than San Diego. The locals seemed pretty happy with it, though. 

While in Missouri my daughter and son-in-law managed to get the car stuck in the mud. It was 10 at night, pouring down rain and Google Maps had taken them down a dirt road a mule couldn’t have traversed in such weather. To make a long story short, I drove that car out of there, fish-tailing all over the place with a nice deep ditch on either side of the narrow road. While regaling my exploits to the family when we got home my daughter uttered the phrase, “Dad was Badass!”. Every father should get to hear that at least once in his life.

Anyway, such has been life. My good buddy, Depression, comes and goes but mostly hangs around the edges eating all the sugary substances he can get his grubby hands on. Lately, he’s been visiting a lot and, frankly, overstaying his welcome. Ash Forester, a character in the novel I’m currently working on, The Fringe, who also happens to have some depression issues (go figure, right) commented that caffeine and sugar probably are not the best diet for one who suffers from depression and anxiety. He’s right, I’m sure, but it seems to be what my demons are fond of and they generally get what they want.

Writing through depression is tough. I’ve managed to make some headway on The Fringe but writing my thoughts has felt entirely overwhelming. I’m trying to change up my routine some to get out of the rut I’ve been hanging out in. I get off work at 2 pm and my wife doesn’t usually get home until after 7 pm. This leaves a lot of alone time for one who doesn’t really get out much. As a die-hard introvert I do require substantial alone time but too much of it and I start getting way too deep in my own mind. Trust me, that’s not a good place to be. So now, instead of getting up at 3:30 am to write before work I go to Starbucks after work and write. It’s good being around people that I don’t actually have to interact with. It’s like being a part of The Fringe because that’s what the Fringe is, a subgroup of people who live on the fringe of society. The invisible, the silently hurting, those who are dying inside and no one notices. It’s not a pretty place. It is bleak and dangerous but it also has a beauty that only those who live it can ever truly understand. Look around. Look closely. You’ll see them at the mall, at school, at church, anyplace people gather. If you do happen to see one, take a picture. They are quite forgettable and fade from memory like a dream.

I guess that’s enough rambling. I apologize for wasting your time with it. For those of you who made it this far, thanks for sticking around. We’ll see if we can find some more interesting and less rambling topics to cover in the future. Until then, keep moving forward, wherever that might lead.

Take care,

Tom