Life is good, life is grand...

So it's been about 2 weeks since I've taken anything. Whether it be Adderal, Cilexa or Welbutrin and I have to say that I'm feeling fine.
It's been so long, that I forget why I even got on all that stuff.
I've never once had thought of self-harm or anything, just that nagging feeling of unhappiness.
It's so hard to decipher what it is that's truly bothering me...maybe it is my marriage. I don't know.
I've given this the best shot I can on making the best of my situation. I've tried numerous medications and none change that feeling that I have.
My counselor said to me: "You know Nathan, I would be very interested to see what kind of person you are when you are not on medication..."
I couldn't help but smile, but I think even she knows that I wouldn't change much.
So now it's just Gretchen that holds on to the hope of me changing.
I really want to say that I've tried the drugs.

But I'm feeling pretty good about things. The Welbutrin was crap anyways and was making me dizzy all the time, and I'm still able to focus without the Adderall.
It's probably all the stress in my life.

But life is still good.

My rant for the day...

HAHAHA! To be honest, I logged into Blogger and I wasn't even sure what I was going to write about...
So before I started writing, I decided to head to the bathroom and freshen up a bit.
Well, inspiration comes in many forms. It can even come in the form of a smell. A pungent smell at that.
I walked into the bathroom that 3 different companies share. Most of the time, it's just us guys at Plixer. Which is a good thing, since I don't question the hygene of anyone here in the office.
However, apon walking in...there was a new face.
The guy was a rather plump fellow. Probably close to 300 lbs and not at all charismatic.
He must be one of the trolls from the shipping company down the hall.
But anyways...
I walked over to the urinal to do my business and I was greeted with a horrible stench. It's rather hard to describe is such detail, but if I could speculate, it was body odor mixed with unwash private parts.
It was terrible. I had to cover my nose WHILE I was doing my thing so that I didn't throw up.
Do people like that have any idea of how bad they smell? Are they really that clueless?

I wonder if he even washed his hands...

Blue Ball Busters...huh?

As instructed by an e-mail that I got in my inbox; I drove up to Portland after work and met with all the people that were going to be playing kickball this summer.
There was probably about 30+ people there and we had a room reserved for our rowdiness.
I was a little nervous since it's been a long time since I've put myself in a situation where I knew nobody in a social setting.
But apon signing in, I was instructed to join team 2. Much to my surprise, I was 1 of 2 guys sitting at our teams table. So it's me, and my rather quiet counterpart Josh and a table full of reasonably attractive girls.
I say "reasonably" simply because I'm pretty picky about my tastes in women, and I don't throw around the word "hottie" carelessly.
It was rather pleasant though to walk up to complete strangers and introduce myself. I couldn't help but wonder what the girls were thinking as I made my rounds around the table shaking hands with them, but I never got that awkward vibe from any of them suggesting that I made a bad first impression.
We all sat around drinking beers and waiting for our Coordinator to go over the rules of kickball and blah, blah, blah.
But afterward, we had a nice time talking about what we all did for work and the polite nothings to keep the conversation momentum moving forward. Before long though, we were getting comfortable enough to start cracking jokes and teasing one another and all was good.
It was an interesting experience. I kinda realized what kind of person I was, when I wasn't around familiar settings and away from the life that seems so uncomfortable to me.

I was still a happy guy...

I still loved entertaining people...

and I love Guinness...

But one of the tasks for the evening was to come up with a team name.
Considering that we were the blue team, it didn't take long for the girls to decide on the name "Blue Ball Busters".
Which, in my opinion, can be taken 2 ways...

We either will seriously bust some balls in kickball...

Or we provide sexual services to alleviate the deprived male...

hmmmm...they picked it, not me.

I just don't get her sometimes...

I'm not even sure how I would want to start this blog.
Gretchen really confuses me sometimes. I guess that's it.
Yesterday, I had to drop my car off at the mechanics. So Gretchen gave me a ride to work. On the way to work, she handed me a folded piece of paper and told me that I had to open it at work. She hinted that it was very sensative material, so she strongly urged I not drop it or lose it.
Well, I got to work and opened it up...
Lo and behold, it was a rather graphic love letter. It caught my interest, not just because it was sexual in nature, but because it was so very unlike Gretchen to do something like this.
Even though this is merely my speculation: I think Gretchen is afraid of her sexuality. Not that she's a shrew or anything...
But I think she gets embarrassed and ashamed of her personal feelings. It translates in bed too.
Honestly, I think it's worn on me too.
But I don't want to talk too much about her sexual prowlress though.

So I manage to get through the work day, which sometimes is stressful.
Gretchen had reminded me the day before that she was having some friends over for a movie.
So I decided to go see "Hancock" myself.
I got home around 8:45pm or so and there was still some girls in the house, so I retreated to my room and read a book.
Honestly, the thought of that letter did cross my mind. I mean, c'mon, I'm a guy.
However, thinking about the girls over, it's almost 9pm...I didn't think it was gonna happen.
The girls shindig ended around 9pm or so. Gretchen told them she was "tired" and they agreed and just went home.
So around 9:15pm or so, she walks in and lays down on the bed.
"Done already?" I was kinda surprised since their movie wasn't even close to being finished.
"Yeah, I told them I was tired, and Aimee said she was tired too...so we called it quits."

"So how was Brighton today, hon?"
You know, just break the silence.
"Oh, he was fine..."
I guess I was kinda fishing for the mood of tonight. But I really wasn't getting anything from her that suggested that she wanted to get into anything tonight.

Well, I told her that I would finish my chapter and then I was heading to bed. She consented and just kinda laid there for the company.
Well, as we laid there with the lights off, and the quiet hum of the fan...I could tell something was wrong.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm just not tired I guess..."
Now that I think about it, maybe she was trying to tell me:
"I'm not tired Nathan, even though I said I was tired earlier...so you can make your advances now."
But of course, I didn't pick up on that at the time.
After about 5 minutes of laying there, I knew something was really wrong.
I asked her "Are you sure you're ok? Something seems to be bothering you..."
That's when she erupted.
She was mad.

I can't remember the exact dialog, but I can tell you a summary.
I didn't act apon the letter. She was upset and she felt really insecure, and was thinking that I didn't want her and was not interested.
Honestly, it's been a rough couple months. I've given her plenty of reasons to feel that way.
But yesterday, she poured her heart out to me via a letter and I apparently was rejecting her.
She felt stupid and unwanted.

I was really confused and mystified to get such a reaction from her. We both exchanged words and expressed our resentment over the situation, even though I didn't think it was entirely all my fault...

On a happy note though, a little hug went a long way and she felt better. We both salvaged some of our pride and were able to overcome our frustrations with a passionate evening.
Make up sex is cool. It's just the circumstances that make it "make up" sex which sucks.

I hate that bitch...

I am usually not one for potty language. It's funny, I remember one day my wife and I were playing Scrabble with a good friend Justin. We always got goofy when we played and Justin had played the word "Bitch". Of course, his mom had walked into the room to do something and Justin quickly changed the word to "Birth" so as not to upset his mother.
Well, that just stuck. Whenever I had a colorful explative for a woman, I would call her a "birth" to my wife. We always chuckled about that.
Well today, FORGET IT!
Joanne is just a plain bitch. I hate her.
I'm not even gonna bother censoring myself here. She's not worth it.
I want to kick her teeth in.
She's rude, argumentative and moody.
She probably wouldn't be so bad if her behavior wasn't so erratic and unpredictable.
One minute, she Ms. Social and happy. The next, she's a raving lunatic.
I'm sure I'm not the only one that thinks she's a bag.

I come up with solution to a problem that Joanne would handle differently and all I get is dirty faces and condescending talk.
"Great! You would do it differently! But isn't the problem solved?" But obviously, she's the pro and has all the right answers and I'm the wierdo with solutions that don't suit her.
You know what?
(kick to the teeth)

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

A kick to the hand...

The other night, I was laying bed reading a book. Gretchen had some photoshopping to do for a previous wedding that she had done, so she sat down in bed with the laptop and did her thing.
While editing her photos, she jumped slightly and grabbed my hand and put it on her belly.
Sure enough, I felt the baby kick.
It was such a nice thing to feel again. I had forgotten what it was like to feel a baby kicking. It just makes the whole thing so real.
Tomorrow we go to the hospital to find out what gender this one will be.
I am really happy about this new child coming into the world, but it also weighs me with a sense of dread.
It reminds me the seriousness of the feelings I have. The responsibility to all those that count on me.
Gretchen once told me that I always have a choice. "Even though you may not be comfortable with it, you still have the choice."

Now what?

One Ugly Weekend

Well, you really did it now Nathan.
Of course, I woke up feeling terrible for the things that I had done to Gretchen. I felt sick to my stomach while I was brushing my teeth. Gretchen was standing close by taking laundry out of the dryer. I felt compelled to say:
"I'm sorry about yesterday..."
I was caught talking to other women online. Nothing serious or scandalous, but I guess that I didn't manually logout of my google e-mail that Gretchen didn't know about.
For the record, the google e-mail address was for my spam signups.
Anyways, Gretchen apparently had been reading conversations that I had with other people.
I did tell one person that I was divorced. Yes, I lied.
I think I just put myself in the role-play position to see how she would respond to that.
Would I be forever marred as that "ewww...he's divorced." guy?
I had to know.
Well, go figure...that's the one conversation she finds.

Needless to say, Gretchen was hurt.

So today, I feel nauseaus. Not because I was actually talking to other people...but because I was caught.
I told her that.

Fortunately, she managed a smile and told me that it was ok. We would work through this.
She's so nice about the whole thing...

The drugs don't work

I've been having a hard time sleeping lately. I also noticed that I'm not eating as much as I used to.
Whenever I talk to my doctor, she's always asking that. "How are you sleeping? Eating?" ect ect...
I'm going to see her here in about 30 minutes and I'm going to get my anti-depressants changed over to something else. Maybe the Cilexa isn't working for me. I owe it to Gretchen to at least try something different, and maybe, just maybe it will help me with this funk I'm in.

The longer this goes on, the more I'm convinced that I want to throw it all away.

I pray the drugs work...

Crowing

There's a song by Toad the Wet Sprocket that I've listen to hundreds of times, but never really understood the meaning of. When I was younger, I bought a TTWS tab book and it had the tab for the song "Crowing".
I've always loved the mood and the melody of the song, but as I stated earlier, really had no clue what it was about.
On the inside cover of the tabbook, Glenn Phillips, the lead singer of TTWS makes a comment about that song. I don't remember exactly word for word what he said, but it was something about how two people can struggle so hard and just end up hurting each other. Something a little too deep for me at the time.

But now that I listen to that song, I think I found that meaning.
I do very much feel like the guy being talked about.

Gretchen knows the problems and anguish that I go through, and she now showers me with tokens of love even though I hardly return anything at all.
I don't know if I'm just not capable of loving her, or if I'm truly just living as a shell of who I am and that there's nothing left to give her.
Is her love enough to keep me? It's sad even writing that question.
I do feel like I'm crying out for repair, but I am realizing that there's nothing anyone can do. This repair is all up to me...

This song goes out to those who want to know what I feel.


"CROWING"
by Toad the Wet Sprocket

Been waiting
To find
You could've been happier
Given the time
If he'd make up his mind
You'd give yourself to anybody
Who would cross that line

And it was never question
He was crowing for repair
You'd give him love and affection
But you couldn't keep him there

Get over regrets
While you were sleeping with the angels
He was under the bed
And the more skin
That you shed
The more that the air in your throat will linger
When you call him your friend

And it was never question
He was crowing for repair
You'd give him love and affection
But you couldn't keep him there

Staring at a cold little hand
Reading fault lines
Of a shell of a man
You were waiting for a word from above
Wouldn't you know it
No answer ever did come

And it was never question
You were crowing for repair
You'd give him love and affection
But you couldn't keep him there

I just want a frickin Bagel with Cream Cheese

So for some reason, I woke up around 6am and just couldn't get back to sleep. Come to think of it, I really haven't been sleeping well lately anyways.
Since I was up, I decided to go to the gym.
A couple of the guys at work have been going in the morning, but since I'm not a morning person, I was less than enthused.
But today, I figured: "What the heck..."
It was certainly nice. In the few times I actually had the energy to go to the gym after work, I still found myself easily tired.
But this morning, I was firing on all 4 cylinders and was feeling good.
This day was turning out to be good.
Alas, all good things much come to an end.
The dingbats at Dunkin Donuts screwed up my planned breakfast that consisted of a PLAIN BAGEL with PLAIN CREAM CHEESE. That's it. I would say that is a very simple order.
Well, I got my bag from the window and didn't look to see whether it was right. I assumed.
Keep in mind, when you assume, you really make an ass out of you and me. But this time, it made an ass of them and them.
When I got to the office, I found that I didn't have a Bagel with cream cheese...
I have a Sausage Egg and Cheese Croissant.
huh?
I find myself laughing right now.
I could not think of a more opposite order on their menu, except maybe getting a soup. But no matter how early it was, I would have caught them handing me a soup.
Idiots.
So I am now eating a sandwich I don't want.
Fortunately it doesn't suck as much as a McDonald's sandwich.

Apparently I'm willing to settle for suck than throwing a stink for what I really want.
Seems to be a reoccuring motto...

Day 6

Every morning when I drive to work, I see an old lady with her Pug dog. The interesting thing is that this Pug is equally as old as the lady in dog years. I almost feel bad for the dog as it limps and groans; probably due to arthritis.
But every morning, there's the dog, struggling to the fire hydrant to do it's duty with the old lady faithfully tending to her companion. I can't help but speculate that as soon as that dog dies, the woman will too. They just seem to have that kind of relationship.
One that bonds two lives together with complete devotion. Where one goes, the other shall follow.
Where did I go wrong? Will my actions forever taint my devotion to another?

Day 5

I was right. I had left my diary at home, and Gretchen couldn't resist the urge.
I'm really not angry, since I've read her diaries before. Tit for tat I guess.
Needless to say, she was really unnerved about me not knowing what will happen tomorrow.

I've put her through a rollercoaster of emotions. I do admit that I'm not being contant with her and that it's confusing her.
I told her once that I was no longer in love with her.
I did say it with heightened emotions, so I've always considered the possibility that I didn't mean it.
But I know myself. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't believe it.
I feel bad because she's a good mother, a good wife and a good friend. But I feel that we were never really right for each other.
I'm a bastard, I know.
I wish I could attribute my mistake to being young and impetuous, but it seems like such a stupid excuse. Maybe I'm just being hard on myself. It wouldn't be the first time.
It's even harder to rationalize this in my head when I've been married for 7 years.
We've had good times together. I think we've both done great things together.
But over the past couple years, I've had that unsettling feeling. The feeling where you are missing something or that somehow life has denied you contentment.
Is that the realities of Marriage?

I've buried myself in vices to cloud my unhappiness, and it's turned me into something that Gretchen is always trying to break me of. I actually don't like myself much now either.

Plus, the compounds of guilt make it hard to feel good about anything...

Day 2

I recently bought a diary at Wal-Mart. I intended to write my thoughts and feelings there, but the other night Gretchen found my diary and told me to hide it so that she didn't have the urge to read it.
I'm running out of things to really hide from her, but I don't want to expose her to constant reminders of my true feelings.
So I will now use this as my new journal; which is works for me anyways since I can't write for very long without getting handcramps.



If you are reading this, maybe you know me personally. Or maybe you are mystified as to who I am and maybe you are looking for answers.
This is for you.
I dedicate my inner thoughts and feelings in these entries to my children and my loved ones, since one day they may want to read this.
I hope they understand how I feel today, since who knows what tomorrow may bring.

To begin with, I have problems.
I know, I know, who doesn't? right?

I know I have severe self-confidence issues. I know I have bouts of depression. I could possibly have ADHD. All these things combined makes it difficult to evaluate what I really FEEL and what I THINK I FEEL.
I've had these issues for years now, but they do seem to be crashing down on me at this point in my life.

I am scared.