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I have read a few blogs lately that talked about the joys of camping and fishing. One of the things I loved, Loved, LOVED about growing up in the country was the ability, when my mind got restless or too busy, or the hectic pace of life got to be too much to handle, to grab my shotgun and hunting vest and hit the woods. Sometimes I actually hunted. Squirrel and rabbits mostly. Or I could grab a six-pack and my fishing rod, throw the 25 horse motor in the back of the truck and hit the lake for the day. I always found those times alone with nature invigorating and refreshing. I didn't have to kill or catch anything. That wasn't the point. The point was getting somewhere quiet where I could hear myself think. Somewhere along the line, I got to busy to do those things. Life gets in the way sometimes. There is work, school, the responsibilities that come along with raising a family ... all kinds of excuses for not doing what needs to be done.
Blogging, while a therapeutic outlet, is just one more thing that I use as an excuse. I plug my laptop up at work and am IMing or checking mail or reading blogs all day. As soon as I get home, it's plugged in and I'm right back at it until midnight most nights. You guys know I have had some problems. One of them stems from an addictive personality. The funny thing about an addiction ... booze, drugs, sex, blogging, whatever ... it has a way of sneaking up on you and ruining everything good that you hold dear in your life. My wife and I are divorcing after 21 years of marriage. Suffice it to say that I am the root of that little problem. I am burning bridges all over the place and can't stand it anymore. I'm so fucking tired ya'll! Tired of putting on the fake smile when I want to put my fist through a wall, tired of seeing everything I touch turn to a giant turd in my hand, tired of hurting people I love. I'm lost and don't have a map to help me find my way out. I feel like I'm going stark raving nuts.
I've been thinking a lot about the woods lately. How peaceful and quiet they are and how I could really feel that quiet peacefullness infusing my soul. I miss that sooo fucking bad.
So I think it's time for Tommy to grab the pole and pup tent and spend a few days with himself, communing with nature. Leave the computer, work, family, cell phone and everything else behind and see if I can't find out who the fuck I am. Cuz truthfully? I thought I had it together but sometimes it feels like I'm on a collapsing bridge and I'm barely able to stay ahead of the falling planks. I don't know me anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really did. Maybe it's also time to stop trying to handle this shit by myself, put my pride in my pocket and talk to someone, a professional, about this cancer that's eating me up inside.
I don't want to put ya'll through this wishy-washy bullshit anymore. I just need to get away. Pathetic, huh? Thanks for being there all those times. I love ya'll. To those of you I hurt? Mommy Gunn, my boys and someone else. How can I say I'm sorry enough. I can't, because you wouldn't believe me anyway. And that is the fucking knife that cuts a little bit more of my heart out everytime I think about it.