When someone asks "Can I be honest with you?" What they are really saying is "Can I make a cruel, personal, probably unnecessary, and certainly non constructive, observation about you?"
Rarely do people tell you something painful about themselves.
Honesty is most often directed outward. It's hard to look at oneself honestly.... but here goes nothing.
I'm a 53 year old, overweight, white male, with high BP, high cholesterol, bad knees, grade 2 spondylolisthesis, who's had a heart attack and has a cardiac stent.
I've been married and divorced 3 times. I have a son, 14 whom I can't see by court order.
If we've met and I've told you the truth it's because I couldn't be bothered to think up a lie.
I'm a felon, although never convicted. And I have broken the hearts of two people with full awareness.
I've probably squandered all the romance this life will offer and will most likely die alone.
I am underemployed, under capitalized and woefully unprepared for my rapidly approaching old age.
So far the forecast is grim, but wait, it gets worse.
I suffer from major depression and life threatening addictions, accompanied by scattered narcissism and a 20% chance of mild mania.
Recently I gave some very serious thought to ending this sad little life but... I trudge along.
I'm actively trying to get better. I recently quit smoking and am enjoying abstinence from my two primary addictions food and cocaine.
I have a team of doctors, counselors, clinicians and social workers all working diligently with me on the many challenges that I face. Apparently it actually does take a village... but let's return to the honesty, still in progress...
Here are some hard truths...
The first 2/3 of my life are over, the best I can hope for is another 25 years. And that is a very generous estimate.
And to continue in the vein of rigorous honesty... of those 25 years only the next 5-7 will be effective, potent and potentially productive.
It would be possible for me to enjoy relative peak performance capability over the next few years but then its downhill.
A degenerative downward spiral into irrelevance, incontinence, dementia and death. And yes, I'm available for birthday parties.
It would be possible for me to enjoy relative peak performance capability over the next few years but then its downhill.
A degenerative downward spiral into irrelevance, incontinence, dementia and death. And yes, I'm available for birthday parties.
I've blogged about attempts to go vegan, training for IronMan, making huge course corrections in my life but the real challenge is dealing with the reality of my situation. Accepting who and what I am... right fucking now.
Knowing and accepting my limitations and appreciating what's in front of me are key elements to success in the years to come.
Oh but hey as long as we're falling out of the honesty tree... let's hit every branch on the way down.
I'm never going to make huge changes in my life. And even if I could stick to a change long enough for the benefits to kick in I'm running out of time.
I'm never going to make huge changes in my life. And even if I could stick to a change long enough for the benefits to kick in I'm running out of time.
I'm not going to be rich, I'm unlikely to ever be truly famous, (Although I do hold out the possibility for local notoriety). I'll never have any real power or influence. I'm not gonna be widely remembered.
Enough already with the negative truths. Is there anything positive? I had to call a few friends... use a Lifeline or two and here's what I got.
Enough already with the negative truths. Is there anything positive? I had to call a few friends... use a Lifeline or two and here's what I got.
Despite my many faults and horrible sins too numerous to mention, I am at my core a good man.
When I'm not in my cups, I care about others. I'm a good father and a good friend. I believe this to be true despite of what I feel about myself. I believe it because people I love and respect tell me it is true. I'll have to take their word for it but their word is more trustworthy than mine.
When I'm not in my cups, I care about others. I'm a good father and a good friend. I believe this to be true despite of what I feel about myself. I believe it because people I love and respect tell me it is true. I'll have to take their word for it but their word is more trustworthy than mine.
Here's another shockingly hard truth to swallow... life is unfair. Thank God it is because I am the recipient of the most unfair thing of all being a white male. I have won the genetic Lottery.
I'm a white male who woke up in America this morning. Still sadly and completely unfairly the best things to be.
And the hits keep coming because I'm also lucky enough to possess above average intelligence. I have no criminal record (never convicted). I am, even with the problems listed above, in pretty good shape physically. I've been told I can be reasonably attractive and occasionally charming. And those traits and circumstances taken together... oh my brothers and only friends...that is as good as a winning lottery ticket all day long.
I like what I do at the moment, French Quarter tour guide and occasional stand up comic. And while I have a great deal of work to do in my relationship with my son and his mother, ex wife #2, (I'm friendly with ex-wife #1 and in affectionate contact with #3), there is time for all my relationships to get better.
I have people who care about me. I have family support and smart friends.
The scales are not so far out of whack that they can be balanced in the time I have left.
On the immediate front, I have enough...Enough to survive for today, enough for tomorrow and a plan for next week. (philosophy courtesy of Dave Underwood). It's all going to be OK.
That's what this blog is about...accepting my mortality. Thinking about why I'm not dead yet, a minor miracle given all that's happened to me.
Learning from my many failures and giving appropriate weight to the small victories.
Learning from my many failures and giving appropriate weight to the small victories.
Why do this in public, for all to see.... I honestly don't know. But typing it out and clicking "publish" is cathartic. I feel better and see things clearer. It helps me avoid the inexorable descension into the pit of despair.
The path to the pit is well worn and without resistance. The pit of despair, the call of the void, staring into the abyss... Writing this forces me to look at the few positives in my situation. Which for me is definitely the path less traveled by ....and that, plus the Wellbutrin, Latuda and Topamax, has made all the difference.
The next time someone asks you if they can be honest with you... tell them only if they're planning on complimenting you or divulging painful truths about themselves.
The guy pictured below has nothing to complain about, ever. All his problems are of his own creation. He's one of the privileged. He needs to shut the fuck up and focus on improving himself.
And that's the honest truth
I don't look 53, do I? |
I love this post. Engaging with reality is hard -- we prefer our delusions. But it's the first step to getting to where we want to be...
ReplyDelete