Under Pressure

I am so overwhelmed with stressful stuff that I have to do.

• I have to ask my dad for financial helpI have to kind of go through what I might pay in Taxes for 2007. Not 2006 So I can get the proper amount in financial help.
• I have to go to New Orleans the first week in February. (This can be a really bad thing for me. New Orleans or Las Vegas - bad places for Floyd)
• I have to go up to Denver the last weekend in Feb. (these dates just keep coming up so quick I can't see straight.)
• I have to fill out business tax returns for the month of December to the State when I should really be sending the stuff to the city.
• I have to keep in touch with the boys.

There is probably a bunch of other stuff but it seems all of it is getting away from me.

So like I froze big time

Okay, its been 16 years since I have asked a woman on a date. I never had any practice to begin with

A crack at asking a woman out on a date.

I have only asked one woman out on a date. I am 43 years old. This woman was my ex-wife. She always used laugh at how I was waving my arms around when I was asking her out she thought it was "cute." I wonder what she thinks about it now.

You would think I would learn to stay away from the whole thing but no I am stupid. Yes I am. I envision me at some point asking a woman in one of my meetings out for coffee. That is it nothing more. I am no good at nor want to be good at being a "womanizer?" Kinda sounds like a machine.

Like I said I have only asked one woman out in my life. In fact, it is always up to the woman to make the "move" on me. I have only been with three women where I haven't exchanged sex for cash. In all three cases these women initiated sex. I don't think I can do that. I do not want to try to get a woman to have sex with me when she does not really want to have sex with me. This of course flies in the face of what sometimes happened in the first nine years of my 12 year marriage. Yes, I was a pig in my marriage, a real asshole. I really don't want to be a pig and did not want to be one then but I was. I hope I am growing up.

I suspect I will end up asking in much the same way as I did with my ex-wife. Here is how it will go. I have been wanting to ask you something however I am really nervous. I get real nervous around beautiful women. You are beautiful and I am nervous. Anyway would you want to go for coffee some time?

Hey that is honest and admitting to being nervous kinda kills the power of being nervous. Of course if she says yes, then I just completed the absolute most easiest part of the relationship. The rest is up hill from there. However the rewards are wonderful. After climbing the hill abit, if you have done the climb the views and vistas are absolutely spectacular,. . . I hear.

Regarding further visitations

I usually have my friend Kay pick up the boys from the ex and drop them back off when I go up there to visit with them. The ex wants me to pick them up myself. The last time I saw my wife was nov. 24 2005. I asked her if she still loved me or would ever to be able to love me again. I asked if she would let me back into the family again. All she could tell me was to go back and never come here again. I knew she would not feel that way for ever. Never the less this was absolutely beyond a shadow of a doubt the most truamatic moment of my life. The reverberations of that blast still echo to this day. I can not simply see her at this time nor do I expect to see her in the foreseeable future (a year at least, could be the rest of my life) The following was my response to her request that I pick up the children from her - i.e. not having third party involvement

Having third party involvement is an essential element that allows me to have successful visits with the boys. It is essential in me taking care of myself It is essential for three reasons which are, I am not capable of seeing you in person at this time, I need to preserve whatever sanity I have achieved to this point, and I need to keep costs of the visits down. The goal I try to achieve in my trips to ______ is that the trips be successful for me, but more importantly, successful for the boys. The only way to this end is that I take the best care of myself that I can while up there. I do this by relying on K__ or a third party.

I forget when it was; I think it was prior to thanksgiving of '06. I asked if we could get together in person with MJ between the divorce hearing and Christmas. In fact, I think I even asked to stay at the house. You did not believe it was such a good idea given the timing. I really believe it was quite a bit of wisdom on your part. During my drive out to Atlanta I thought a lot about me seeing you in person. One thing that kept coming back is the circumstances/situation in which I last saw you. I asked you a number of questions at that time. All those questions have now been answered.

This was a horrific time for both of us. In light of how those questions have now been answered and the haunting memory of November 22 -24th, it is clear to me that I am in no shape to see you in person or to even see the neighbor hood and especially the house under any circumstances at this time or in the foreseeable future. I have come to understand and enjoy the rewards of how stable my life has become in Flagstaff. This stability is significantly disrupted when I leave this place for any reason. This disruption seems to be more profound when I make the trip up there to see the boys. Although it is more than I had anticipated, I do have the support to handle it. I was reticent to start these visits because I didn't think I could handle the disruption. I believe it would not be in anybody's best interest for me to see you, see the neighborhood, or see the house at this time. I believe that us seeing each other under any type of circumstance would severely jeopardize the work I have done in the last year. Not seeing you is very important in taking care of myself.

Another important aspect of taking care of myself is relying on other people appropriately. I rely on at least 25 people down here. I have friends that drive down to phoenix to pick me up at the airport (a six hour commitment and a tank of gas) I just did the same for somebody last night and was honored that I was asked to do it. For what ever reason, I don't consider myself and the help I ask for as being a burden to these people. It is this kind of help that I have come to realize that I can not do without. God not only wants me get help when needed but requires that I get help when needed. I am guessing that asking for this type of help is what is making you uncomfortable. To a large extent, when I lived up in Denver, I was living in the insanity of trying to do everything myself on an emotional level. (I admit that I did not do many things by myself that I should have.) I gave up “not asking for help” to God when I accepted the job down here. I am quite a bit more sane now that I rely on other people for help. If they are able to help then it is something that is meant to be. If they can not help then it is something that is not meant to be. It is just this simple

Finally, I bought a newer model car as opposed to the 93 honda civic dx in order to provide reliable affordable way to see the boys. It provides transportation to get up there, provides transportation for me and the boys once I am there, and provides a place to spend the night while in transit. This is the alternative to driving down to and from Phoenix, parking, air fare, car rental, and hotel. The Honda does not work anymore. I only give you this information to say that to require a hotel because the boys and I can not stay with a third party somewhat defeats this strategy. The point is, is that I can only visit the boys if I am able to keep the costs down. I am sure this will only be a short term problem.

Because of these reasons and until I am able to find other people to rely on up there I rely on Kay. If she has given you the indication that she can no longer help or you feel we are abusing the help she is offering, then I will work on making other arrangements. If you are adamant about not having third party involvement altogether then I will defer visits with the children until such time as I am confident that seeing you in person will not jeopardize my sobriety and stability. I hope you at least understand my reasoning and do not view third party involvement as me "playing games."

I understand that based on my past behavior this can lead you to conclude, "He's just playing games with me." Even if you understand my reasoning you may still require that no third party be involved any more. I honor, respect, and ultimately accept this decision and accordingly will accept the responsibility and be accountable for the consequences that ensue.

The only thing I ask is that you be true to yourself. This may mean that when you say you do not want Kay or any third party to be involved anymore, and you know this to be your truth then I ask that you stick to this truth. It is evident that you have been able to do this since November of ‘05 thereby demonstrating your recovery. Given my background and my problems as a result I do not believe I could have found a better person to marry or a better person to then divorce me.

Thanks

Andy

God does for us what we can not do for ourselves:

I get off the highway in OKC with the intent of getting off the wagon. Several things intercede though. The first is just getting off the highway. The exit is one of those that makes an immediate right angle turn onto a frontage road. I miss the right angle turn at the end of the exit and cut across the corner and then onto the frontage road. This is so totally awful but I am writing it out to acknowledge that once again I am powerless over this addiction and my fucking life is un-fucking-manageable.

I get off the highway get on the frontage road and head west to a bridge over the highway, cross that bridge and head east on the frontage road on the other side of the highway. Just as my eyes spy a place called fantasy something or other my phone starts ringing. I pass the place immediately forgetting about it. I make it to the street that was right before where I exited the highway. My phone stops ringing. I head south and then take the first right heading west. I pull into a gas station/convenience store and get my phone that is laying on the floor of the passenger's seat. It was my friend Tara. I listen to the message and try to call her back. (As I look at it, this is actually pretty good because I actually called her back. I mean typically nothing interferes with the addiction, nothing!) Anyway, I say screw it and get back on the highway and head for Amarillo.

In Amarillo I get off the get off the highway to find a gas station in the hopes that there might be some type of "establishment" near by. The phone rings again. It is another friend. I answer. My addictive episode now somewhat weakened or less severe is interupted by this call.

The snowstorm has kicked up and the streets are covered with ice. I skate through an intersection where there is a gas station. I go to the gas station, get gas, and go in to get a bottle of water. There is a cash machine in there. Thinking that cash might come in handy, I decide to get some cash. (The episode, although weakend, is still underway.) The machine spits my card back out much more quickly than I had expected and a reciept is printed. "Insufficient funds" is the primary message. (Cash facilitates my addiction - kinda makes "things" easier to get.)

Totally depressed and full of shame I get back on the highway and head for Albuquerque. The snow storm strengthens. My addictive episode fades. Immediately, I run into stopped traffic out in the middle of nowhere. It takes about an hour and a half to travel the next eighteen miles where there is an exit with one loan gas station on the other side of the highway. I go across the highway to the gas station. The gas station is not open but the parking lot is packed with trucks

I really have to pee. It seems to be really crowded out in the middle of nowhere so I go back across the highway only to see that the westbound lane has turned into a parking lot once again. I continue pass the entrance ramp down onto a desterted frontage road. I stop off to the side of the frontage road, pee into a cup, roll down the window, and dump the pee out of the cup. (better than getting out in the snow and standing in front of the westbound parking lot) I get in the back of the forerunner, climb into my sleeping bag and go to sleep where I sleep quite well.

The following morning the eastern sky is ablaze with the rising sun. The snow storm has passed and so has the episode. Although I had taken a lot of hits, it appears as though I had won the battle. I won that battle with the help from my higher power.

Thank you God, no! I really mean it. Thank you! I am so grateful! I am still on the wagon - on my way I know not where.

Stay on the Path

I seem to be trekking along in my journey in a place where it is not safe to get off the path or the highway.

Having fun. . .

in the vacuum of the holiday.

How facisious is that? I will tell you it is really facetious.

The first 1200 miles went off seemingly without a hitch. Then yesterday I got to spend all day in Tucumcari. They seemed to have gotten a little snow in Albuquerque - kinda went along with Denver's storm.

I had my guitar with me this trip. While wasting away in Tucumcari. I happened to run across the chords to Landslide. My wife, I mean ex-wife, liked the Dixie Chicks version of this song. Nobody does it like Stevie if you ask me. Anyway, once again the floodgates opened.

Thank you God.

While in Atlanta, I met a person I communicate with on this blog - you know who you are. ha ha ha. I was pretty nervous about it. It turned out well. - must say very cute daughter and gracious husband. The man is lucky. The woman, of course, lucky as well.

Once again, another reason to thank God on this, the first day of 2007.

I got a date!

with 1770 miles of interstate. It took about 24 hours to get here. It looks like it will be 24 to get back. See you on the other side.

Depressing?

So my sister says my blog is too depressing? Wow, can you believe that? Huwhoah! I mean, com'on now.

So she doesn't read it. Yeah, I know. I don't get too many visitors but that's okay. I have been looking through what I have written and it is pretty neat - even if it is depressing. This is the longest I have ever done a journal. And anonymously if somebody wants to read it who cares. It's out there for the big Guy and everybody to see.

So I drive to Atlanta. It is almost 2000 miles from where I live. The reason I came out here is to see my dad and her as well. But, ya know, I am two weeks off a divorce. And, Hey! it's christmas, ho, ho, ho, ha, ha, ha, and all that stuff. Time to be close with loved ones and so on and so forth.

I am really trying not to be cynical. I mean I am. Yes I want to spend the time with loved ones, you know like my dad, sister, and brother in law and even my neices if I can fit it in. However, I am not in the mood for big "happy" family get togethers. Yes I do say happy cynically. I am sure many people can relate! In fact, I just read a post about a "happy" family get together.

Anyway, I am about 200 miles out and she lays it on me that she has another family living here at the house. Okay, well that's not so bad accept for the fact that the husband guy person, ribbed the shit out of me about my "problem." two years ago when my wife, kids, and family were out here. This guy was also party dude cigarette in one hand six pack in the other. Doesn't bother to take the can of beer out of the six pack ring. This is right out of the movie "Vacation." This is two years ago. I did not peg the guy for being a "family man" ya know?

Not that I know how to deal with that kind of thing now, but back then, there is no way I could deal with it. And it showed. I said something stupid to my sister. I was making fun of her or something like that. My brother-in-law called me on it. The wave of shame swept over me like something that really sweeps over stuff. And then the anger and then the rage and then blamo - another christmas down the toilet.

So, two weeks on the heals of a divorce, christmas time, and cousin Eddie waiting for me at the homestead. One two hundred miles miles out she tells me, oh yeah, by the way. . .

Gravitational Tug

Escaped the gravitational tug I encountered on the way out here. The tug comes from a variety of establishments that advertise along I-40. It is awful that the tug is there. I guess I am not there yet.

I had a dream

Had a dream last night, of course it was about my wife okay ex-fucking-wife. I was invited to a party at her friends' "chris and sara's" They lived in this big glitzy house In the dream the third floor of their house was a complete library. I am sure this is something to which they aspire. Every one was dressed in black and maroon. (maroon tops with black pants) Most people didn't know me. In fact, I never saw chris or sara (When I make amends to them, will I have to say that I am sorry for never capitalizing the first letters of their names when defaming them when writing about them? I don't like them very much. They reciprocate the same sentiment I am sure.) Any way at one point we were in this gargantuan palace like livingroom. (chris and sara aspire to have things and things that are status symbols like mercedies benz, big houses, kids going to not necessarily good schools but prestigious schools, you know? all that kind of crap. I am, have been, probably will be guilty of that too. I just hope not as much.) Eminence Front it's a put on. Listening to this as I write. Hey is this a randomn stream of consciousness or what!?

Anyway, as I said we're all dressed in black and marroon and get this!, I'm wearin' my hat, my german bavarian fadora type hat and I am kickin' ass and taken' names if one is capable of doing that in recovery mode. I am confident. I am adult. I am REAL.

So we're in the palacial livingroom and sitting on the floor in kind of a circle in our bare feet. Ronda is there. She is somewhere in the circle but I don't see her, but in my dream I just know she is there. The circle is kind of tight. There is a woman. She's a knockout. She completely reaks with sexual,. . . sexual, . . . sexual something,. . .sexual energy that's it. Her sexual energy fills the room. She sits across from me. And it was like I was willing her to make a pass at me. (This is so not me. I hide from women like this. They terrify me.) She moves closer to the center of the circle and then right out in front of God and everybody she takes her feet and starts rubbing mine and then!...... and then!..... she starts moving her feet up one of my pant legs. This is killer for me. If a woman were to do this to me I would be dead meat. This is kind of like superman's kryptonite. I am not putty in her hands; I am liquid in her hands - well a kind of viscous liquid like honey or syrup.

The next thing she and I are in a bath tub - no water though? Is that wierd or what? I mean this dream was kind of making some sense up to this point. We do all the things I think I would like to do when in this type of situation of which I have never been. There is nothing of graphic nature in the dream. Just knowledge of.

After the act (typical after sex scene but in empty bath tub) this beautiful woman starts telling me all the things she feels are wrong with her. At that point in the dream I see that she is an older woman around my age. Her signs of age show but she is still stunning. In fact in the dream I remember thinking that these traits of which she talked made her even more attractive. These things made her real! I love real and can fall in love with real. (I think.)

I am back at the chris and sara mansion. R- is there. I see her. we talk. I forget what she said right now but it was something inflamitory. It could have been that I saw her being intimate with chris. Chris is kind of like my Lex Luther (superman's arch enemy) I don't think it had anything to do with the "other woman" although at this point in the dream I remember thinking about what had just happened with the other woman and feeling real good about.

And then, and here is where the dream becomes a nightmare, I say to her, "That's right R-. That's right, Build that resentment. Nurture it. Treat it like a garden. Work in it like you would work in a garden. Grow it. Spread fertilizer on it as necessary. And then, after a long hard day in your garden of resentment, why don't you sit down and crack open a nice cold one. Okay, maybe you are too good for that, how 'bout uncorking vintage bottle of chianti. I mean after all you deserve it. Oh, and also you should probably have a cigarette." and then I yell, "You're a fucking alcoholic just like your fucking mother you're gonna die just like your mother. You know that, don't you!" I could see her trying to hide a bottle of wine that she had. And she was pissed. Her face was red.

I remember leaving donned in black hat, maroon shirt. black pants and black shoes.

Then I woke up. I felt awful. I almost felt sick to my stomach. I took a shower, tried to do some things prior to going to work, failed at all of those things and then got in the car and went to work.

Whoa! Dude! Farout. Tripindicular you might be thinking to yourself. Well, I am thinking that to myself. It is funny as I started writing about it I kept remembering more and more detail.

Good morning or well Afternoon

When I came into work this morning it was a sweltering 9 degrees F. I could barely hold the steering wheel because it was so cold. When I went out for lunch the temperature had risen sufficiently that I needed to use airconditioning or drive with the windows down. After a snow here instead of pea gravel on the roads, they use volcanoe cinder gravel which turns into cinder dust. I opted for airconditioning.

I finally had to do it. I broke down and got new shoes for 15 bucks at walmart to replace the shoes I bought on line that were supposed to be double EE for wide feet for about 74 bucks. However, these shoes appearently went the other way as in narrow. I have worn the shoes for about five months only to realize that they just cut off ciculation to my feet. My feet are squished and frozen.

Against the voice in my head, I bought new shoes today. The voice in my head is that of my new ex-wife This voice also comes with an image. The image and voice are that of her giving me a stern look and saying, "I told you not to buy clothing on the web. Look how much money you just wasted!"

Yup she was right. I guess some of this comes from pride as well but I still see her furrowed brows accenuating her frown of disapproval of the terrible awful thing that just happened. I had to buy new fucking shoes again! I am not married to her anymore.

Thank you God and so it is!

I just got in from a 700 mile (actually 1400 round trip) drive to Denver to see my boys. It was a good time. I slept in my truck on the way there and then on the way back. It was better than I thought.

I really like driving for some reason. It is really quite therapeutic. I do a lot of thinking and sorting. Good time to connect with God.

8:17 am Fryday

Took some aspirin, took last two sinus tablets that I got in Deutschland, just about done with my coffee. All drugged up and ready to work!

1:30 Thursday.

At one thirty in the afternoon last thursday my divorce hearing began. At 1:49 am, exactly 65 days, and 3 hours to the minute after the attack on Pearl Harbor began, the marriage to my wife ended - according to a show I saw on the history channel later that day. Wikipedia say it happen at 7:53 am Hawia'i local time which is 10:53 our local time - instead of 7:49/10:49.

I don't think there is a bit of significance to that 65 years and 3 hours. As I was writing the preceding sentence, it occured to me that there is no significance to that divorce hearing (my marriage ending.). Wow! There is no significance to it. Now there's a thought.

There is significance to the night of Nov. 22, '05 which resulted in what took place in my life on Dec. 7th, 2006.

Four in the Mourning

I got home from dinner with some friends. It's cold on the hill right now. It doesn't get much above 20 degrees these days. It seems colder and cold has a real "bite" to it this year for some reason. I laid down on my bed and played my guitar until I drifted into sleep. Just as I was drifting off I woke up with a jerk and took my guitar off my chest and put it to the side.

Now, I was awake again. This is the problem with using the guitar to put me to sleep at night. I grabbed the guitar by the neck again and swung it back over my chest. I started playing the last two strings of "D" and then e minor in kind of a picking and strumming alternating pattern. The sound of the chord progression and the syncopation of the picking and the strumming produced a kind of sad yet matter of fact kind of atmosphere. As in, "This is the way it has to be, everything must come to an end." sort of thing.

As I listened to the sound I was making, a vision, I think one put there by my higher power, of my wife asleep, peacefully asleep back in Boulder came to my head. I seemed explode in tears. I still kept them bottled up. My chest heaved in and out and my closed eyes filled with tears as I push air out my nose. I could feel the guitar bounce up and down on my chest as I continued playing my little song.

The wave of grief passed and I began to feel drowsy. I put the guitar back to the side and this time was able to go to sleep. I went through the usual course of dreams where I am in my underware at work and then I awoke to kind of a happy day. The sun was shinning. We seemed to be leaving for somewhere. I don't know where though. My wife was there except she didn't look like my wife. We were in kind of a living room type of area similar to an first floor appartment type living room with a sliding glass door.

In addition to leaving, she was getting ready for something and I was too. All of the sudden there was a really loud crack of thunder. She quickly opened up the sliding glass door and ran outside as if she was running to the car. The rain fell in really big dropplets and immediately soaked her close. She quickly took off her top revealing a black kind of blouse thing.

Then, as if in a video tape that had been spliced, all the rain had stopped and the she had a black dress; a casual black dress. She was still in her blouse and baggie pants that she had been wearing but she had this dress and started to put it on. As it came down over her head before it came to hang from her shoulders could tell she was going to look very good in it.

Somebody asked her something and it was either the person asking the question or the or it was in her response but I heard the word "date". I had to ask! "What did you say? Are you going on a date?"

Her response was clear and in a kind of "No duh!" replay, she said, Yeah! Of course! Why? And I realized what we were getting ready for and where we were going. We were getting ready for our divorce and we were going to go to it like it was some type of formal event like a . . .
"Wedding!" I then knew inside this dream I was in that we were going to go to this thing together but we were not going to leave together.

I remember her saying, "Yes, I met your "Ref." as in referee. At the time, in the dream, I think I was thinking coach. But she clearly said "Ref"?????

Anyway, she said "Yes, I met your "Ref." and we kind of hit it off and we are going on date. Then she turned, looked at me and said, "Nya Nya! Hey! we're not going to be married after this!"

I woke up breathing heavy. I started to process what had just happened and started to understand it to be a dream. I felt a little relieved but still shaken - really shaken.

I grabbed the guitar by the neck swung it back over my chest and started to play my little song again and drifted back to sleep.

Don't Give Up.

Trying to awake out of the dream

For the ten days I was there, the days and then the nights seemed to slip in and out, behind and in front of one another like a dream. The dark of night seemed to interleave the afternoon and the dream of night replaced the dream of day. In the morning the opposite. Night and day danced elegantly around my head like a ballerina in a music box. Each step of this whirling dance carefully choreographed precisely ot the rythmn of the arriving and departing trains at the Hauptbahnhof.

Coming out of the dream and back into the reality of my life reminds me of what it was like trying to get on an escallator as a little boy - walking up to it and trying really hard to synchronize the gate of my walk to the emerging steps of the escallator. It was always awkward and clumsy. I still have to pay a great deal of attention so I don't biff it.

I still seemed to be lost in that world.

I want to go back.

Retrieving the lost songs

After Thanksgiving a year ago, it occurred to me that I lost a great deal of music in the intervening time between 1990 and 2005. This is music that I had acquired during my time with her. Memories that seemed to be produced by the music have an indelible tag to her. Simply put, music that I once loved is now painful to listen to.

One such piece of music is called Love on a Real Train by Tangerine Dream. This music was used in the film Risky Business. I finally found this tune while I was with her around 1995. I played this piece all over Germany while on the Bahn. The piece has taken on a new memory. The association with her; expunged.

I gotta tell ya, I love the trains in Germany!



I have a lot of video of the traveling by train. These trains run really smooth. When they come into the station you can't even hear the wheels on the rails. When they are going all out they run about 170 Km/hr or 105 mph There are a lot of trains that run faster, but still, 105 mph for a passenger train is really cookin'!

And I'm back!

It was a jamb packed trip. I started my journey back at 4:30 AM 27TH and got home at 6:30 am (Berlin time) on the 28th. Now I can't sleep