Reflecting on 2018; Lamentations

2018 was easily the worst year of my adult life so far. That isn’t to say it didn’t have it’s upsides though. I suppose, rather than jumping around to every significant event of the year that I can think of; we will just start at the beginning.



I rung in the new year of 2018 sitting alone in my hotel room as I was working at the hotel, the boss was out of the country for a month so I was kinda stuck there. I had been having extreme thoughts of suicide. I didn’t want to live anymore. I have a panic disorder, I will have panic attacks randomly for no discernible reason, as a result, I am scared of having more panic attacks and I actively avoid places where my anxiety is higher; which is pretty much everywhere, but more on that in a minute.

I had just gotten out of a relationship with a woman that had two children, a boy and a girl. The little girl was only 9 months older than my own daughter. I loved those kids as if they were my own, and I was sitting alone in an empty hotel room just being sad. Despite the fact that my ex and I had agreed to remain friends and that I could see the kids anytime, I knew that I would see them significantly less, simply because I wouldn’t be with their mother everyday, or they wouldn’t be at the hotel all the time anymore. Needless to say, I was down. I’m a pretty popular guy, my phone almost never shuts up with people messaging me on Facebook, texts, phone calls, video chats, you name it, that phone was always blowing up. So on the 5th of January, I decided that I was going to end my life in my hotel room. Here’s the weird thing: I didn’t actually WANT to do it, I simply felt like there was nothing left to live for. In hindsight, obviously, I had the whole world to live for. I had great friends, an awesome family, and most importantly, an amazing and brilliant year and a half old baby girl. So I wonder around, looking for someone to talk to about it. This particular night, my phone sat silent, I tried to talk to multitudes of people and most of them had their own things going on and just didn’t have time to talk or blew me off completely. Finally, as I was walking through Wal-Mart, I kept thinking of a very specific person, which was weird to me, because I had never thought of her before, so after asking the universe for an answer, I got one, so I messaged this girl. She sat up with me all night telling me all the reasons I had to live. Making perfect sense, as nothing previously had made sense, this was awe-inspiring. I decided not to end my life and started to See things in a better light, so to speak.

The next day, I receive a multitude of messages asking if I was alright and I was honest with most everyone that asked. I told them that I had intended to kill myself, but I talked to someone and they convinced me otherwise. I also got a message from a friend from high school, whom I had asked to the Homecoming Dance my Junior year. The short version of the paragraph she sent me was “Hey, I’m sorry for turning you down back in high school, if I could go back, I would absolutely have said yes.” So that made me smile.

I began to focus on making myself happy regardless of what it took. Turns out it didn’t take much. I fell in love with myself as I was searching for myself. For the first time in my life, I was actually happy with who I was as a person. And this really began to show. My friends could tell a world of difference in me. Everything just felt excellent.

Fast forward to March. I’m no longer stuck at the hotel, and I get a call from my ex that her new boyfriend had been cheating on her. So I drive up to her place to console her and take care of the kids for a little while. I was so happy to see them and I believe they were happy to see me. We had fun playing and just hanging out. Finally, the “boyfriend”, if he could so be called, came home. My ex called him out on his fuckery and as most liars do, he became enraged and irrationally upset about being caught. I didn’t intervene until he had asked him to leave three times, and he just wouldn’t go. So I stood up (I’m 6’5”, 240 lbs, he was 5 foot nothing and would fly away if a slight draft caught him) I said “Why don’t you just take your shit, and get the fuck out of here before I make you get out of here.” (Important to note that the kids were upstairs napping when I said this) To which he responded by backing up, and raising his fists at me saying “You wanna throw hands we’ll throw hands!” I smiled and walked outside to the sidewalk where he looked like a boxer from the 1930s. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he started speaking in a 30s Manhattan accent using old school slang like “Bully!” In that moment, he looked absolutely ridiculous. So here’s a thing. Having a panic disorder, I’m faced with the fight or flight response quite often, so when any form of “danger” presents itself for real, you can bet your ass that I am ready to fight. My ex gently grabbed my arm as I stared at his equally small friend, who took several steps away from me, then I turned to my ex. All she said was “Please” and I looked at the pathetic cheating punk, with his arms still waving in front of his face like a dipshit, I shrugged my shoulders and went back into the house. (This is important to remember) Anyway, my ex is a very forgiving person and she takes him back, she always believes that there is good in people. Afterall, she saw the light in me when all I saw was darkness.

Another month goes by and I'm still loving my life. Then the girl that messaged me about Homecoming came over to hang out. We ended up dating after that and are still together to this day. I truly believe that she is the love of my life. Not long after we get together, my ex calls me. She tells me that she needs a babysitter for the kids, because she has to work and her "man" will be out with his friends for the night. So when we get there, the little girl, Athena, has had an incident with a thumb tac. (This is not an abnormal occurrence, if she doesn't have eyes on her for just 30 seconds, she would burn the whole house down.) My new girlfriend is a paramedic, so she checks her out. Athena was so happy to see me. She was also super tired. We put triple antibiotic on the abrasion and let her get back to sleep. Morning comes, my ex returns, and we go home.

Just a few days later, I receive a phone call that changes my life forever. Athena is unresponsive and on life support in a large city almost 2 hours away. So we get up and go. When we get there, everything about Athena is on high alert and several phone calls had to be made to get me on the same floor of the hospital as she was. My girlfriend was unable to go. We get the news that Athena isn't going to make it. It was then that I learned from my ex that while she was at work, her boyfriend had beaten Athena. Brutally. This little girl wasn't even 3 years old. And that son of a bitch killed her. My blood boiled. It still boils to this day to even think of his name. I watched them pull the life support. I watched helplessly as her heart stopped beating while she lay in her mother's arms. I watched my ex and good friend's soul get absolutely destroyed as the doctor looked at her and said "I'm sorry". I held a lifeless baby girl, that I considered to be my own child in my arms and sang a song to her as if she could still be calmed by it. I held her as long as I could. I didn't want to let go. I didn't accept it. I couldn't. How could I? Could you? It was the longest elevator ride down to the first floor that I've ever had in my life. Other people were talking, but I didn't hear them. I had two thoughts: I want Athena back, and Murder the man who did this. I was numb. In shock. Enraged. Destroyed. All at once. My body could not process any of it, so it just appeared that I was fine to anyone who didn't know better.

Time went by and we had Athena cremated. I have some of her ashes right next to my bed. Along with a note from my ex that says "When I said I considered you their father, I meant it. Now she'll always know how to find her daddy" or something to that degree. It was a heartfelt note and it means the world to me, which is why I still have it. I just can't quote it because it has my ex's name and my name on it. And for now, I'd like to remain nameless.

Before we ever had Athena cremated, her murderer was arrested. Much to my dismay. I know, I know, let the justice system do it's thing. Whatever. The justice system is a fucking joke, and deep down you know it. Will he get what he deserves? Absolutely. Will it be what I feel he deserves? Or what Athenas mother feels he deserves? Absolutely fucking not. I want to feel his anguish. I want to watch him squirm in pain as I inflict beating after beating upon him. Do I sound like a psycho? Well, I fucking should! This man murdered my daughter! I want to watch the life slowly drained from his eyes. I want to make him fear everything he used to love. I want him to have nothing. I want him to be nothing. I want it done by my hand. Noone else's. But we don't always get what we want.

I'm not a violent person. Don't get the wrong idea. But when it comes to the people I love, I can get violent very quickly. Fast forward to the holiday season. Everyone is chipper and happy around me, yet all I can think about is that day that he raised his hands to me. That day that I walked back into the house instead of giving him the beating of a lifetime. I honestly feel that had he received a beating from yours truly, he wouldn't have wanted to come back into their lives. Because despite him being the "boyfriend" and despite his best efforts, he could not make me disappear. I loved that family too much. And they loved me.

Here I am today, January what the fuck ever-th, and I still feel similar to how I did, except now my panic attacks have evolved. Anytime I'm feeling a bit more stress than usual, I feel as though nothing is real. Like I have been watching my life as if it were a movie. It doesn't sound like much, but it's the most horrifying feeling I have ever felt. I can't step foot inside Wal-Mart because that place intensifies the feelings of derealization and depersonalization. I can't do a lot of things without feeling like nothing is real, and it's fucking scary. God bless my amazing girlfriend. I can wake her up out of a coma-like slumber while I'm having these feelings and she's there for me. She helps me more than she knows. I find myself afraid to go anywhere or do anything lately. I find myself relieved when plans get cancelled. All I do anymore is go to work, have intense derealization attacks while I'm there, come home, play video games, and sleep. On weekends I spend time with my daughter. She can still make me smile, always, but lately the attacks have been happening while I'm around her too and I'm scared that she won't think of me the same if she knew her daddy was afraid of everything irrational. I don't know what I'm gonna do about these attacks. Apparently they're caused by trauma... But I can tell you, that I am going to rise above them as I have risen above every other obstacle in my life.

I do not do this blog for attention, quite the opposite, I hate attention. I have made this so my friends can see what's been going on inside my head. So that maybe they won't worry so much. Also, it's quite therapeutic to type these words. That's all I've got this time. To my friends, I love you, you're the best I could have ever asked for. To my family, you're a crazy bunch of fuckers, but I wouldn't be me without you and I love you guys. To my girlfriend, thank you for standing by my side even when I'm a wreck. I doubt I would be here without you. And to the strangers reading this, I hope all of your stories have happy endings as well, as I know mine will, we just haven't gotten to that chapter yet. Take care of yourselves.