I am the MONSTER

Yes, I am.

There is nothing that I hide in this.  I am the monster.  It is inside me, part of me.  I am.

There is no uplifting ending coming, I'm just being blunt.  It hunts, feeds, devours, takes hold.  It is part of my subconscious.  Lingering to find the moments I'm willing to let it take the reigns.

I fucking hate it.  And I have continued to fight it everyday for the better part of my life.

You may have seen it, witnessed it, but unless you've been devoured by it, you can never truly get it.

I'm not alone.  THERE ARE MORE OF ME OUT THERE THAN YOU MIGHT THINK. Souls who have ridden the storms of it's deceit and false promises more of their life than they wish.

And until I come to grips with me, the monster remains.  Something I fight.  But maybe one day it will be something I can fully come to grips with and not face it every day, but embrace it.

Maybe.

Outside Voices

Will you let me be?
finding such times to tear apart the fragile parts of me.
Will you move and let me fly?
without pretense or looking for how I've done it wrong, or just not right?
now I find that I can only decide the course
but I am not alone, I can weather this with or without that voice
So let me stand, or let me fail
but I will be the one to rise above, or sink below to dwell.

11/24/17
clc

the process

One side may think that they have won. That they have finally recovered their lost grandchild from the evil of the big city. The other side may feel defeated and betrayed by the loss. I stand in the middle, but this time not worried what either side thinks. I’m doing the right thing. While I can’t understand his lack of motivation, lack of any desire to move forward, I can’t let him stagnate and stay complacent. At the same time, maybe it is the best place for him to go. Instead of being swallowed up by the big city, at least he will be in a familiar atmosphere and have the time to figure out what it is he wants to do.

I hope he will find his footing. Find a passion in something that burns deep and allows him to move forward and be successful. But it’s his turn to figure that out. Stubborn and hardheaded, probably has a lot of me in him, and his mother. It is his turn.

I won’t be too far away. But I am going to give him this chance. Maybe not everyone will understand, but did everyone understand when I wanted to leave so desperately as soon as I turned 18? What about understanding how have I decided to fight for my marriage, and to continue to try to look out after all three of my kids?  I have one who I desperately want to have find her path, just like my son. Let her find a place she fits in, and find where she will be successful. Then there is the little one… such a fun, intelligent bundle of joy.  I’m not gonna be away from him. I’ve already made that mistake before. So there’s going to be a lot of changes coming very soon. Today only marks one. And it is bittersweet. But I also know that it is necessary for everyone to start to find their own way. I’m not abandoning my son. But I’m allowing him to make some decisions, just like I’m having to make decisions on my own.

If you look at my left arm, there is an arrow pointing north. Wonder where that will take me? I have a pretty good clue.

So we all grow, we all change. We all have obstacles and challenges ahead of us, and if we don’t face them, they clog the machine and interrupt the process.

Paint Blue the Air (Writing it out)

Cower in the corner

The night still full of horrors of 

What did I do wrong?

Don't understand, this is what I would become

A man plagued with uncertainty

Unleashed demons, that I didn't breed

From someone else's demented soul

Now I get the gift of never being whole

Child of 5, 6 and 7

Knew much more of hell than any real heaven

Though no one else knew anything happened

"Remember, this is our secret"

Just a 'normal' boys world

At least it's all I knew, how could I ever tell?

Tainted right from the beginning

Though for a long time I forgot remembering

Cause it just didn't seem everything was right

I was growing, learning, figuring wrong from right

So instead of words, I found the silence

In keeping secrets, built my own solace

In places no one could touch, deep inside my mind

Where no man, no one would ever find

But my lust, my young hungerings 

Played out into dressing on top of teenage dreams

The young man who went to church

Was possessed of feelings that would make many burn

And that's the way I learned survival

Bare essentials to protect and hide from

The good, the bad, the holy and hell

You'd never know how much I felt I'd failed

Miserable, but inside there's something

I found that no scar could ever keep me

From looking at the skies above

Thought of heaven, rock-n-roll and love

This kid dared to dream beyond this planet

And the shadows that I wouldn't dare let

Keep me from something more

(Though most days it was just waking, getting out the door)

Then fear came back.

Right in front of me.  He stood. Like an attack.

And to him, it was like nothing had happened,

Hell, I'd never ratted him out, kept his 'secret'

Maybe twenty years might heal some wounds

But that day, it was all back, too, too soon.

I didn't flinch, instead I kept my composure

And in that greeting, no one noticed

The little explosions going off inside my head

Slowly crippling my emotions, wished I was dead

The place I kept those secrets 

was the only retreat I could find quickly

And I went there, hoping to never come out

And for a few years, I even thought I'd found

New life, new passions, revival

But it's never gone.  There's always a little pain.

Once you face it, with faith that you can stand

Those tears still flow, some days hard as rain

Shudder like thunder, find lightning in your veins

But the storms pass...

And life flows again.

I don't know where he is, nor do I really care

There was a time I wanted nothing more, than to make the world aware

But even though I hate him, as the child who didn't have a choice

I no longer want to destroy him, but I'd like him to hear this voice...

"I am no better or worse than you.  I am just as broken.

I just wish you knew all the years you've taken, stolen.

I'll answer for my sins one day soon.

You will too."

When I cower in that corner, when night hits hard and I fail.

I still may cry, retreat inside, sometimes weep and wail.

But I have the right to get up. Leave that 'me' behind.

Find peace in better moments, know I'm not losing my mind.

Sunrise comes, even though there was a day I didn't care...

I don't chose the clouds to break, vanquish night or paint blue the air.

I just find those simple moments to laugh (yes) and breathe.

The past is what it is, the days ahead are up to me.

6/7/17 

clc

cour·age

noun

1. the ability to do something that frightens one.

"he called on all his courage to face the ordeal"

2. strength in the face of pain or grief.

"he fought his illness with great courage"


The cliff stood right in front of me.  The drop would be deadly.  I've been here before.  There's nothing that rivals the terror of total hopelessness, total despair.  I stood there once before and shrugged it off.  Stood there again and actually stepped...  But that time I was given the chance to undo some of the hurts that bound my spirit.  This time I didn't even approach.  Instead I called out...

"Help!!!! I need Help!!!"

Recently I had to stop and to recognize the world around me was crashing.  That all I had kept in place for so long was falling down around me.  And as much as I felt I was in a good place, I had to take a step back and realize that I needed help.  


So here I am.

I am not a coward.  I do have moments that I run.  I have had those my entire life.  But then there are the times I turn and fight.  Not fighting my wife, my kids, the corporate monster that I work for, but fighting the demons that have haunted parts of my soul since a child.  Quite honestly, fighting the hopelessness that used to overwhelm most every day.  And in those times of standing, fighting, I've learned and grown the most as a child, and a man.

I am SCARED!! 

I am quite petrified at times right now by the unknown.  But I do realize that I can let it make me freeze, stop and become mired in my own muck, or I can face the unknown with the realization that it doesn't control me.  Take charge of me.  Let myself be vulnerable to the ones I want to open up to, and shield myself from the pain that comes from those who want to cause it.

I have made serious mistakes that need to be reckoned with.  But I have also decided to reach out and to find HELP!  I am still deeply entrenched in the battle.  But I have decided to not turn tail and run, but to Fight.  Fight for the life I want.  Fight for the hope of a future with my wife. A new direction for the family I have, the ones I love so much.  Fight for the path my heart, mind and spirit will take.

But to do this takes courage beyond just the words.  September 1st I knew things were different.  That instead of living in a state of delusional euphoria, that I would face my recent decisions and move forward.

I am unwilling to run.  

I am unwilling to let my decisions go unanswered.

I am unwilling to live the life I was living.

I am unwilling to just say goodbye to my heart without a fight.

Fight with love, with actions, with deeds, with words that have a foundation in the deeper truth of my being.

I am.

I am Here.

I am beaten down, medicated, analyzied and still fully devoted to reclaiming the world, the life I want.  

Hopefully with her.  Hopefully with some semblance of a promise we made each other years ago.

Hopefully.

But I have to stand.  To keep moving on regardless.

I may not be the most courageous, but I'm learning that the best way is through an honest vulnerability that may open up eyes and hearts to my true self.

So as I'm spending the next couple of weeks on medical leave, I know it's for me to find some time to reflect, to gain perspective.  To write out my heart and the answers that I need to give. Maybe even add some questions that I need to find the answers to as well.

Courage.

It's in my heart.

Coward

1. a person who lacks the courage to do or endure dangerous or unpleasant things.

Maybe I am a coward.  I've been told quite clearly that I was one today.  And maybe that's the truth.  I will not deny that I ran.  That when things got beyond anything that I could reasonably endure that I shut down, that I turned off inside any reason, any sense, any judgement.

So here I begin.

Upon the hard events that happened in Washington this past July, I left.  I stepped outside my marriage.  I felt like it was all over.  Divorce was the only thing that I had on my mind.  I will tell the specifics, as I can best unravel them to the people that matter most, Jenelle, my family, my closest friends.  But below I need to say some other things as well.

Jenelle is a good woman.  We've had our differences, our fights, our major disagreements, but she is a good woman.  She willingly took on the mantle of "stepmom", and not the evil kind, she tried to establish a relationship with my kids from the onset, and opened up her home and heart to them.  She was the first to push at the kids coming to live here when their mom died.  I was still trying to figure out the bigger picture of having us all together, yet she immediately opened up.  We struggled together, but who wouldn't with all that transpired.  I don't wish the situation on anyone.

I did my best to find the balance with everyone, but it was difficult with a newborn, two teenagers new to Atlanta, a young marriage and two cats.  I was overwhelmed.  But we pushed and we tried.  Continuing to figure out this new life.

Jenelle has been through a lot of tragedy in her life.  She lost her love to a long battle with PTSDs.  Widowed early and always wanting a family, I know how strong she is.  She has weathered storms that many wouldn't ever have made it through.  And when we met I knew that there was something about her that I fell hard for.  That I loved.  

I have had my struggles with life as well.  And though I've gone about it many different ways, I have tried my best to move through the times of adversity.  And me being here, breathing is a huge statement.  I have a lot of scars in that area, but I also have some great victories of heart and spirit.

So recently I couldn't find the way to get back to the heart.  Jenelle and I both had a lot to figure out.  And we went through some pretty hard moments. But even when we were at our worst, she tried.

I did too, but it just wasn't the same.

I know there are things that she and I need to discuss, in detail, but I want to do this openly right now.  I want to apologize for the things that I have done in our relationship that have openly, or covertly hurt and tread upon her.  Our finances, the selling of a house with memories, the loss of Radar (cat), the inability to have the needed conversations about renovations, the loss of trust with taking on that project, the rift that was built as we tried to guide the kids through a new life here in Atlanta, the loss of "us", the checking account, and more, including the acts of the last several months.

I ran inward.  So if I'm a coward, let's start there.  I have always run there.  From the struggles early on, to my first thoughts on talking about them - only to realize that most would rather just sweep things under the rug and not deal with issues of childhood abuse, to the times when I just felt like the world was caving and the only safe haven was inside.  That's always been my refuge.  One I'm leaning on a little today, though I'm sitting here in front of this screen to try and NOT go to far inside, to NOT disappear completely.  

When I was 6 or 7, I ran.

When I was 15, I ran.

When I was 29, I ran.

When I was 34, I ran.  And then I fell.  

Then there were others who I met who also went far inside themselves to escape.  To hide.  To not get swallowed up.

And the little boy actually found some solace in being surrounded by a bunch of guys who also had their demons, their pasts.  For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I wasn't the fucking oddity.  The sideshow act that just wasn't funny.

But all of this is just my past. I don't want to digress too much.  I have ran from my beginnings, and I have run now.  Only I stopped.  About a month ago I realized that the place I wanted to be was right behind me, but I was too stupid, scared, pigheaded, lost to open up and see it as it could be.  And in true Chad, since 2006/2011 (backstory needed to understand those dates), I stopped and instead of running, started to stand.

To better get to the root of things I have asked her to go to counseling with me.  To see if there is anything there to share, to continue, to salvage.  But for me I'm taking the journey back inside my head and heart.  Counseling with a new counselor that I seem to trust a little already.  Journaling and talking with those who I trust and need to open up to.  And MOST IMPORTANTLY not hide myself inside myself.

What I have always wanted in my life was the normal.  But what I realize now is that there is NO NORMAL.  We all have our stories, our chapters.   From the time I was a young kid I wanted a family.  But who in their fucking right mind would want to be with someone so gross and ugly inside?  That was my perception.  And I either did it badly or I really tried, but still the relationships failed.  The opening up was always hard, if not impossible.  And in one instance, the opening up caused serious repercussions throughout the entire household.

All that brings me back to Jenelle.  I am not putting her up on a pedestal.  Just acknowledging the thing that I've always known.  That she is the first person that I've truly, deeply loved.  Loved deep enough to let her inside the maze of my insides.  She caught my attention and held it, even though it would be months before I even really had a serious conversation with her. But even then, I see that the conversations that I've had with her in recent weeks are deeper.  That I want her to know me, and I think she has an image of me, though right now it may be horrific, but to really invest and know the whole me.

So as I am trying to find my heart.  The words.  The truth.  I want her to try and know that maybe I'm a coward at times, but I'm also a real person.  With some serious warts, and some special parts as well.

There will be more to say.  But for now it's just this.

Let me show...

A Hundred Dollar Bill

So he stirred his coffee, mixing the bitter-bean liquid with enough cream and sweetener to make it tolerable (not Seattle's best, regardless of how popular the brand is).  

Her words kept ringing in his ear. 

"My kids would be better off if I was dead.  I can't even pay for the hotel room tonight... no, I don't have any money until tomorrow... I don't know what I'm gonna do."

It was a private conversation, but he had slowed down as he was walking into the store, to hear something that caught part of his attention.  The grocery store is a place where many conversations happen.  And as he had walked in to buy legal addictive stimulants, he couldn't help but hear her words.  Then he was struck by the sincerity, the emotion in the conversation she was having through the phone.

"I'll have a Grande... room for cream."  Nothing stopped the pursuit of coffee.  But she was behind him.  Standing inside the sliding doorway to the store.  And as he waited and went to stir, something more was stirring inside of him.  How could he hear that conversation and just go on as if nothing touched him.

He glanced back at her and took in an older black lady wearing scrubs, probably worked in a doctor's office or something, she looked tired, upset.  But was it really his place to do anything?

Inside, a voice kept telling him to go.....

"Ma'am, ma'am.  I need you to have this!" as he handed her the emergency $100 bill he kept in the back of his wallet.  Her eyes opened wide with the quick gesture of pushing the bill into her hand. "Just those things you said, you have to promise me not to do anything.  Take care of your kids.  Just for tonight.  I hope that it's enough."  

He was walking away when she asked, tears already filing each crevice of her already weary face, "can I pay you back, please".

"No, you already have," he replied.

That Hundred dollars won't mean much to him.  He'll go on without missing out on a meal or having a place to sleep that's warm and dry.  But maybe she was really needing the money, and maybe it will help her get through the night.  He'll never know, but it's the fact that in the moment, a voice that wouldn't let go of his spirit allowed him to reach out and touch another's life in a good, a positive way.  And isn't that more of what this life is really about?

That was my day.

What if I fail you all?

What if I fail you all?
I know I'll stumble, that I'll fall

But I won't lose sight of the Mountain high
Even if in the valley, for now I reside
Cause my heart has rendered, shed so many tears
All from latent, childhood fears

I am no child, yes, I'm a man
Doesn't mean I always understand 
     why the skies grow gloomy, when the sun is out, 
     when there's rain on my face, in the midst of a drought

But I know that I'll always pick up the trail to find
And when I'm lost, I'll reach deep inside
Tell you all I love you, 
     and yes, I may fail you again
But I won't leave you, til the very end.


9/22/17
clc

Crimson C

Maybe I should take my chest and emblazon it with my own version of a scarlet A?  

a Crimson C. 

I know that the actions I've taken seem just as devastating.  Just as damning to one in particular.  To her.  Longing for a settling of the original storms that came into our lives, I found no peace, no rest,  but instead decided to forge the deepest tsunami I could call upon.  I OWN my symbol of shame and hurt, in her eyes.  But I know there is still something there.  Some part that might have been strong enough to resist the waters, the winds, the pain.... just a little.

And for me, it makes all the hurts I've felt over the past seem slightly less the priority, not unimportant, but we'll get there...  and as I wake, I wonder is it too early to cry? Is it too early to let those emotions flow? I should be there, but I'm not. I should be there, "A" on my chest or not.

I've been a little lost...

Lost on an island of misfit toys?  Caught on some deserted island with a friend named "Wilson"?

No.  Just lost.

And then I wasn't.  I was sitting in the midst of the mess that I helped create.  Not making any excuses, but starting to look beyond the fog and see some of the things that being lost helped me lose.

And now I have to regroup. Find what matters most and do everything in my power to show "me", show my real heart and hopefully, maybe find some true peace... even in the midst of the storm.

I've made some poor decisions. Actions I don't condone. I've blatantly said things that when I hear them seem so 'not me'.  But I also know that I was trying to find a place where the walls weren't crumbling, our relationship not so torn, and everything less a tumultuous hurricane.

Not the Florida one, but this is an emotional tidal wave that stirs the waters well beyond my own heart, my own spirit.  If you think you know me, then realize that I am FLAWED, broken and torn apart.  I have found myself looking at myself and seeing the best parts, but also seeing the parts that are in need of mending.  And I have looked into her eyes and tried to say "I'm sorry. I want this.  I will be here."

I've been reading a lot, looking for things that help explain the crazy way I've been.  And above all of these things,  watching scenes from the movie "Fireproof" has been one of the most poignant and eye-opening of all of them (need to go back and rewatch it).  It's a faith-based movie about a couple way beyond help.  Filled with anger and hurts, this couple are so far apart from finding any answers, until the husband is encouraged to take 1 Corinthians 13 to heart for 40 days (blatant biblical reference there folks).

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails."
          1 Corinthians 13:4-8

So lost, so out of control, I just don't know what the answers were, but I know the feelings in the following scene.  The first one, where he just expresses everything he hates, loathes, wants to be gone.  I was there.  I've seen, felt, breathed those moments.  But that's not the man I am or want to be.

FIREPROOF - SCENES

I am writing this, first as a letter to my wife, someone who I think deserves these answers. But I'm also writing it as a cry from a man who has spent the better part of the last week or so sobbing mercilessly in front of the mirror - trying to understand himself, and how the spirit of hope and love can be so far misplaced.

I'm sorry.  I was hurting.  I think you were hurting too.  Doesn't ever excuse things. Forgive me and know my heart.



9/8-9/17
clc

Wild Horses

something about watching them gallop across wide, open spaces.

untethered. loose to roam the day and night across the terrain.

the beauty in their movements.
the power in their frames.
the passion in their Spirits.

Wild.

Unchained.

Free.

I've only once or twice felt even close to being so open and free.

Too many chains, too many binds that tied me down to being less than what I can be.  Far too many wasted days and nights.

Bridled and succumbed, my spirit fighting just to breathe, let alone run.

Run, run free in the spirit.

Standing.  Walking.  Running. Rising up on hind legs and declaring at the top of my lungs...


...well i can hope.

I still haven't truly felt it.  Only a few special moments - only with a trusted one or two.

I dont know that I'll know how to handle the truth of a life without those restrictions.  Restrictions that my spirit feels are such a part of me.  But i have to find out...

I just have to know.


Wild Horses.

me.

free.

Will he see?

What will he see?  Will it be the love that we both share for him?  Will it be the terse words that we still say, though I think we both love each other too much to fully let go?

What will he look at?  More cranes, that may one day be at his disposal as he builds the next skyscraper, or will he look out at an audience and perform 'his' music for masses of fans, longing to just hear what he has created?

Will he see us?  Not you.  Not me.  But us?  

I don't know the answers, but I do hope that he sees something that at least mirrors the best of what we are.  

What will our little man see?

Maybe hope?

Faith?

Creativity?

Intellect?

Sensitivity?

LOVE?!

As I ask, I can only hope that he finds truth.  And a desire to keep moving forward, no matter how hard his life may get at times.  I also look at you.  And want the very best for you.

Maybe me.

Who knows right now.

But I can hope that he will see....

F R A G I L E

How do you mend broken pottery that was formed with a hidden flaw?  Not at inception, but as a young child.

I'm supposed to be broken.  I'm supposed to be beyond repair.  I'm supposed to be dead.

Those are the words that the world wants me to continually hear.

Maybe I was built this way on purpose?  
Maybe I am just this way and there's nothing more?
Maybe the childhood molester that posed as a dear family friend was supposed to destroy my hopes at childhood?
Maybe I am broken?

But I'm not.  I'm fragile.  There.  I've said it.

I. Am. Fragile.

Not like glass, that shatters into a million pieces and scatters to where bare feet find sharp particles at the most inopportune times.  But like clay.  Dirt and mud from the ground that once hardened are such useful, deep objects.  And when they fracture, they fall into large pieces - sometimes to be collected and glued, taped, epoxied back together again.

Each major hurt has taken it's toll.  And I know that the seams of the fractures are still places that can be scraped open, burned easily, and yes, split back apart without much warning.  They are the places I protect, but they are much stronger than they ever have been.  It takes much to get to them and even more to truly wound them.

He did.  My family has.  My wife.  And most of all, myself.

It makes trusting the most difficult task that I will ever do.  Sure I have trusted small parts of me with many people over my lifetime.  Giving is a gift, whether it be time, and ear, some of my story.  But to this day I have only had three people (E, E and J) that have gotten even close to gleaming all of what I hold so close.  It terrifies me to think of all of me exposed.  How can anyone ever love the terrible scars that are so much a part of me.  The way I am is part of the madness that a little boy found his only escape from what he knew was wrong and yet had no way of protecting himself.  So the adult boy damn well would.  I have protected the deepest parts of me from everyone save a select few.  Don't ask, I won't tell you.  Not just the events started in 1977, but the way my entire life would be wound from those beginnings as much as the upbringing I had in a good, solid home.

But there is a need as humans to connect, to find others who share your own story.  And in those I've found with similar life "DNA", I have found encouragement, hope and sadness at times.  There was a man I never met who I feel I know his struggles deeply, cried over his hurt and held the hand of the one he loved as I heard his story.  Another that I ended up having as a roommate and mentor along my path.  One friend, a serious 'rock-star' type, who is one of the deepest men I've ever known, once you get past the glam!

So I went to a counselor, a first time visit to see if I 'fit' with this guy.  He seemed younger than most of the ones I'd had in the past.  I didn't really know him at all, but I chose to just unload my story.  I was going to give the abridged version, but he encouraged me to not hesitate and just talk.  He listened as I relayed the full, real, detail laden story of me.  He sighed at the end and said that most everyone he's ever counseled that had a similar story wasn't able to function at a high level, or was bitter and defeated, barely able to do "life".  He looked at me and said I was "Amazing", that I had been through so much and yet still had an immense desire to LIVE!

Crying as these words are coming out.  I am so thankful for those who've helped me realize that life is worth living, that there is a God.  And a bigger picture than I always understand.  But I still don't always know how to get beyond me.

I'm safe in here.  I'm alone a lot, but I'm safe from the bullshit of life.  I want to be part of the bigger picture, and I have done pretty well.  I've stayed upright, and working, and at times even had joy.  But I'm still a hot mess sometimes.  There's only so much one person can handle, and my limits have been over-exceeded for the better part of the last two years.  And in typical fashion of any of us that have lived and dealt with the trauma that had to be hidden, my outsides may look just fine, but inside I was continually praying for a lessening on already overtaxed braces.  Slowly starting to fracture me inside-out.

The Joys of a new little one and the strain it can put on a young family.

The Loss of communication between two people.

The Sadness of my two kid's new journey without their mom.

The Excitement and Stress of moving, renovations, budgets and hurts that are formed.

The Terrible tragedy of Divorce.  A road no one ever wants.

So what do you do?

Corner me and I pull further in.  And when I can't breathe, whether it be because of something I can't understand or seem to accomplish, or because all my internal energy is being used to just continue on my path of staying me, alive, breathing the best I can, I start to break.  Fracture.

But there is always the hope of restoration...

The Japanese have an artform that fixes the cracks, the fissures in broken pottery with gold, platinum or silver lacquer.  Those lines of defeat now shine with the lusterous glints of a careful hand.  A hand that took the time to realize that "there is still good in him" (blatant S.W. reference).  There still is good in me.  Still a lot of hurts and flaws, but a hope, a "new hope" even!  I'm saddened by all of the ways that my life didn't turn out to be like everyone in my church growing up thought and professed it would be.  Not because I really wanted that, but because I could never fully express the ways that the church, without realizing it, helped make part of the monster that reared it's ugly dragon head inside my soul.  Took MANY MANY years to get that out of there!!

So I don't always know the answers.  And I can't always open up my heart.  But I have. I have loved.  I have lost and I still try.  

I don't think that Jack Nicholson was totally correct with the statement "You can't handle the truth", but I do know that there will be only a select few who may even hear it. I still fear the fracture.  Fear the break.

But at the same time, what is life without sharing a part of you with someone...

...if they can stop and see me inside the lines of broken clay.


Kintsugi: The Centuries-Old Art of Repairing Broken Pottery with Gold

Showing Up

"I want you guys to take a good look at yourselves and feel proud.  
We made it here.  We're here.  
What I've learned from you is that really one of the most important things in life 
is SHOWING UP.  
I'm blown away by your ability to SHOW UP through everything that's gone on."


Conor O'Neill (Keanu Reeves) in Hardball

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------



Isn't that significant?  Knowing that you'll look up and someone will be there?  May not seem like a huge accomplishment or task, but I guarantee it takes something more than perfect people skills or a sophisticated battle plan to do.  

To Show Up.

There are times when I hurt.  Times when I'm sad, times when I'm just in need of an ear to vent to .  Or maybe it's simply knowing that a hug, a beer shared or a silent walk taken can remedy ailments that the soul carries many times without any relief.

What if I just showed up?

Would I change the world?  I don't know.  I think that might depend on your perspective.  But no matter, I'm desperately trying to do just that.  I'm trying to show up.  Be there.  I went to a friend's opening of his brewery last weekend.  Not for the beer (ok slightly for the beer!), but to show that I hoped it went well, and that no matter how the years had separated our lives, that he was still important.  A friend.

I have another close friend that I try to go by his school every week, sometimes to listen to his kids play, he's a music teacher, but mostly to just to see how life is going and to give a little of me.  It's something I try to do on a regular basis.  I don't even think he realizes.

And there are times that you find yourself showing up without even realizing it.  When my son falls and runs to daddy to kiss his 'boo-boo".  Getting to a gathering early to find the host had just had a tough situation and needed to unload.  Trying to mend broken relationships with sincere help in hard times.

Sometimes all I know to do is just show up.  There's no magic elixir or way to let people know WHAT MATTERS, but it only takes effort to be there.  To walk in the door.

Showing up MATTERS!  It takes all those lovely words I spout out of my mouth and puts them into Action.  Sure there's more that I can do, but it's pretty hard to lend a hand if you're not standing in the room!  You can't listen if you never pick up the phone or have a moment to go get a cup of coffee.

In my darkest times, I've always waited for someone to walk in, to care, to just let me know...  I've gone through most of the significant hard moments of my life alone.  And without complaining too much - it sucks!

The people who need you may not even know how to ask.  Just listen to your heart, your spirit.  There are subtle presses that lead, and might just give you the direction on who it is in your circle who's in need of help, and ear, something more. Heed those calls.  Don't put aside something that might be a life changer for someone else.

Dammit! Show UP!!!!!

Holding Out for a Hero

I've always wanted to be a hero.  Maybe it's just my extremely over-romantic nature, or the fantasies I lived with inside my head growing up and still sometimes do today. But I've always wanted to be somebody's hero.  Still do.  Not to wear a cape or to save the day, but to be there.  To be solid: something more for someone. And even though Heroes fail us, they do (think Ben Affleck being Batman, and if that's not a fail!!!!).  But they get back up and they continue to be more than just the day to day.  Sometimes they become so much more by just being who they are, nothing more.  If you're willing to really see who they are!

I've never ridden a horse well enough to even consider being a white knight, and in fact I'd probably be riding a jack-ass more than a horse.  But if I had to, I would ride it.  And I would do my best to stay mounted in the saddle while...

Failing.

And I fail.  I've failed many, many times.

So Bonnie Tyler.  You have inspired this.  From Footloose to the intro credits of a local wresting show growing up, you have inspired since I was a middle schooler.  But you were off a little, and I hope to expose the true hero while not totally destroying such a kick-ass song!

Somewhere there is someone still holding out for their hero. But not a mythical man on a fiery steed, with a whip (see the video) and glowing chaps and stetson.  Good men? Yes.  Gods? Maybe one. Streetwise Hercules?  Well Arnold is in California or making really bad movies these days.  Strong, Fast, Fresh from the Fight? Probably.  Sure? Absolutely.  Soon? Yes, please.  Larger than Life...

Larger than Life.

No.  Not Larger than Life.  Just "part of life".

Maybe it's just running to help with a flat tire, or doing the dishes. HERO OF DISHDOM!!  

Here's what I am.  
I'm real.  Pretty damn real.  Sometimes ugly real, but not mean.

I don't always do things the right way.  I forget things with my "squirrel" mentality...  where were we at?  I love, and I've lost more times than I care to think about right now.  Lost again.  I'll try to help.  I'll try to find the things that make others happy, and I'll sacrifice when I can for those I love, be it family or friends.  Enemies. Sometimes even strangers.

One night I was working with the homeless with my uncle down in Atlanta.  This was prior to the Olympic "revitalization" (i.e. move out all the distraught and downtrodden to clean the city).  We found a guy laying in some bushes without any pants on.  Just tattered rags that must have once been jeans.  I immediately pulled off my sweatpants (Yes, I had shorts on underneath) and handed them to him, even helped him put them on.  We were able to get that man off the streets that night.  Maybe he came back, but I remember taking him to the bus line that would transport some of the homeless to a safe house if there was room.  My uncle would tell people that I took my pants off without putting in the part about having anything on underneath - Ugh - Andy!!!

This isn't a pat on the back.  Everyone, I'm pretty broken of some of that.  I'm not really hero material.  I'm scarred.  I'm emotionally beaten up.  But you know what, I still get my ass out of bed every day.  I go to work.  I try to take care of my kids.  I try to be a good friend.  I still hope for more.  I even pray, though I do sometimes question if the Big Guy hears...

I'll never live up to the song.  But maybe, just maybe I can be a little something for someone -maybe through a smile for a good deed.  Giving a street performer/friend a really good tip, just because he might need it more than me.  A hug for a friend in need.  

Or maybe I'm totally on the wrong side of this.  Maybe I damn well need a hero too!  Maybe I've been holding out my entire life for my own hero.

I want someone to believe in a little. Who cherishes all my quirks and idiosyncrasies without judging them as changeable.  A friend who really gets ME. 

I don't need to be fixed.  I am perfectly flawed just the way I am.  

I'm holding out.............

VIDEO - HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO

Know my Heart

Know my heart, know my reality
Know my reality, know my truth
Know my truth, know me.

Just know me.


Just know my heart
listen, beating,
let the storms fade into raining,
let the sun come up and
wipe away the tears
Just know my sadness,
but know I'm funny
that dark days can still be sunny
when you know there's more
than just the price you pay
cause losing, isn't a part
of everyday.
Just know my heart.

Just know my heart
the tender kindness
that I've hidden from all the madness
there is so much giving
left inside to give
so many smiles, I still haven't worn
but I know I will.
Just know I wake up
every morning
and if you wait til I'm done yawning
You'll see the way I hope
each day will be much more
that I don't let my heart
get trampled on the floor.
Just know my heart.

7/10/17
clc

Walls Come Crumblin' Down

"When the walls, come tumblin' down
When the walls, come crumblin', crumblin'
When the walls, come tumblin', tumblin' down..."
                    ~ John Cougar Mellencamp, circa 1983


So what if they all went away?  Were bulldozed or torn down?  Those sacred walls dismantled and left open to the elements.  I'm referring to the Churches, Temples, Synagogues - all Houses of Worship.  If one day those who believe came to Sunday service finding their churches piles of rubble, wood, concrete, brick and stone, would there be a sudden loss of faith?

John Mellencamp wrote the song above about living within the criticism, failure and disappointment once it all was taken away.  This at the height of his early rise to pop/rock fame.  So now, what if the things we sometimes cling to physically were torn asunder?  Would you pray, wail, fall prostrate on the ground?  Would you run?

It's a matter of faith.  What do you believe?  Do you believe in the temporary fame that comes with a hit single played over and over on the radio?  Do you look to find belief deep inside or do you believe that God dwells only inside the walls of those tabernacles of old?  Inside the contemporary Arena-style mega churches that dominate areas in our country?  Does that steeple serve as a conduit to better hear and communicate with an omniscient being?

Or do you look up and realize that Faith, no matter what flavor, comes from somewhere that can't be erected into a building.  That the wind carries our voices up no matter where we praise.  That maybe a group of like-minded believers can come together in piles of rubble and still sing hymns, chants and choruses that resonate beyond the walls that once held those words in.

It would be quite an experiment.  Tear down walls and see what happens.  See if our beliefs come more from within or more from the walls...

But what about the internal walls that we build?  What if we took those walls and tried the same experiment?  Would our true selves be exposed and run and hide, or would we find that those who truly get us, who understand us, would allow our voices to sing no matter how dark or how wounded our insides really are?

"When the walls come crumblin' down..."  What will you find?

TIMELINE

1972 - February 29th, 1972 to be exact - born - Georgia Baptist Hospital, Atlanta, Georgia

1977 - Star Wars.

1977-1980? - Abuse at the hands of love.

1986 - Freshman Year - Pebblebrook High School, Mableton, Georgia

• First Kiss
• I find words... Expression.

1990 - Graduation, then West Georgia College, Moving out and in with Allen Martin

1991-1994 - Chick-fil-A, Running, Losing weight, recitals, passion for 'my art', and just maybe a little direction?

1995 - Married?! Are you kidding me??

1996 - Graduate College, start teaching Elementary Music in Jonesboro, Georgia (just south of Atlanta)

1997 - My past reappears - almost collapse.

1999 - Caedmon Lee Chatham is born.

2000 - Cambrey Elizabeth Chatham is born.

2001 - Divorce and a Tattoo.

2006 - Everything stops.  I can't suppress the past hurts anymore.

2007-2009 - Unpacking the Hurts, possible Healing?

2011 - A Dark Night, a Phone Call and a Promise.

2012 - Moving On. Pen returns to paper after a 5 year hiatus.

2013 - A New Start?

2015 - Little Man! (Christopher Brett Chatham is born.)

2016 - My kids come to stay.

2017 - Where do I go from here?

Not a complete picture, but a snapshot - looking at events or thoughts that are opened up as I simply go through the years.

2018? 

2020? 

Who knows what will unfold?

Peace.

Picture of me

It's one of his songs that I haven't listened to intently enough, or maybe I've avoiided the meaning.  But it is how I need to open this particular writing.  So please take a minute and read words by a true master at the craft.... then you can undure my mutterings! LOL

Rich Mullins - Growing Young

I've gone so far from my home

I've seen the world and I have known

So many secrets, I wish now I did not know

'Cause they have crept into my heart

They have left it cold and dark

And bleeding,

Bleeding and falling apart

And everybody used to tell me

Big boys don't cry

Well I've been around enough to know

That that was the lie

That held back the tears in the eyes 

Of a thousand prodigal sons

Well we are children no more,

We have sinned and grown old

And our father still waits

And he watches down the road

To see the crying boys come running back

To his arms

And be growing young

Growing young....

(If you have time, look it up.  There's so much more there)

So here I am.  April of 2017. Below are the words I wrote the morning of one of the hardest days in my history.  A day I thought I would endure with peace and some empathy, and then move on from, but now haunts more than any I can recollect in the last several years.

"This is where I'm at.

I'm not in 5 years ago or 10. Definitely not 20 years ago.  I don't still live in the terror of my childhood or the sins of my youth.  I've been broken, beaten and still I get up.  I fucking get up.

So don't keep me in the shadows of a life I did not live.  Do not keep telling me how I'm not as good.  How I don't measure up to the past.  The past is dead. A memory.  A place where we can go and dwell to remember, to grieve and to correct our own paths, but it is not where I will dwell.

I am living.  Breathing.  Alive.  And I'm hard.  I've lost a lot and still  struggling with how this all works; kids, marriage, work, faith, hope...

I don't see my past as the shadow that used to cover me and keep me so in the dark.  It's now just a moment, a glimpse, a tear, a smile... but the terrors are gone.  They don't come every night, every day.  The fears have subsided, though they try to rear their devilish heads when I'm not aware.  Replaced by hope.  By thoughts of tomorrow. But more by living in today.
Now.

I am here.  I am me.

Chad"

9:46 am, Tuesday, April 11, 2017

So I've spent the morning reflecting on the man I am, flaws and all.  And how I need to proceed.  It's a journey, life.  And I'm still along for the ride.

Peace.

The Fragile Mind

It holds our deepest thoughts.  Can design the tallest skyscrapers AND imagine the man in the blue suit that leaps over those buildings with a single bound.  It can be developed to do complex math and still be able to hold the recipe of our grandmother's favorite dish.  It also is where the darkness often hides...

It's a safe haven and an infinite hell at the same moment.  Our days can be ruled by it.  Our nights can be terrorized by the images that form within.

It can be a tranquil place where we dream techni-color dreams of fairytale futures including wizards, action heroes or mutated turtles.  It can be where we hold our hope.  

This place isn't necessarily a bad place, but it's formed by the images, the experiences, the pain, the loss, the happy moments, the dreams, the laughter shared and the hope that has been fulfilled or destroyed.

My mind has seen some pretty amazing things.  My past at one point clouded it so much that I only saw the dark.... like Luke in the Cave (obligatory Star Wars reference).  Now I try to balance my thoughts with the hopes and dreams I still look toward and the reality in which I live.

But that's me.  Now I'm really angry.  I can deal with me, but now my daughter is having to deal. Deal with the hard realities of the Fragile Mind.

I have cried, yelled at God, gotten snotty-faced angry about it.

It's not fair.  And I will do everything I can to make it different, manageable for her.  But I just don't understand.  There's no "easy button".  No pill that makes it all better.

It's a climb.  Climb out of the ayss into something that transcends the weakness we find in our flesh and in our maleable thoughts.

So I'll end this with the words of a girl who I think has gone through some of this (and may be a little Cray-cray herself), Miley Cyrus...

The Climb - Miley Cyrus

I can almost see it

That dream I'm dreaming, but

There's a voice inside my head saying,

You'll never reach it.

Every move I make feels

Lost with no direction

My faith is shaking, but I

Gotta keep trying

Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always be an uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast i get there, 

Ain't about what's waiting on the other side

It's the climb............