But I am more of the real me than I have ever been in my life. I can come across as prickly, stubborn (not new), aloof or incredibly childish, a trait the ‘kids’ at my wilderness training called “46 going on 20”.
If you think you know me, and we’ve only recently met, then you just might have some insight as to who I am. For those of you who’ve known me ‘my entire life’, family, friends, other, well I hate to tell you, this new me, the one who just doesn’t give a damn about the social norms that keep getting shoved at me, who will just say “no”. This is me. But as I said at the beginning of all of this, I’m not the man I want to be, not just yet.
One of my closest friends said there was a seismic shift coming. That this year, another year removed from the struggles and tragedy that came upon my young family and older children, would be bigger, better, different. What that’s code for is it ain’t gonna look like the cookie-cutter life that I see many people striving for. Pools, Hot Cars, McMansions, trips to Exotic Destinations. Those just probably aren’t going to be part of the deal. I stepped away from the misery and I bet on the one sure thing in my life. Me. Roll the dice. It’s make it or go home, empty. There’s no safety net and I don’t know that I’d have it any other way. I’m scared, but aware that I get to make the leap. I get to decide the path; the way things will at least start out. Because how many of our lives end up going exactly the way we plan?
I find myself escaping this city I have always loved more. I find my heart pounding in ways it hasn’t known before. I am here. Fully present with all that has been so much a part of my story, and yet it isn’t the definition of Chad. What happened behind closed doors on Short Street scarred me. Formed some pretty detrimental core values that many of you reading this have given me the advise/direction to “give to Jesus”, or “face him” (the abuser). Get it. We all give unwarranted advice when we really don’t know the path, or we don’t understand the person standing on that path. But God does. And he’s always been right here. So, lay off the over-Jesus-ed rhetoric. I know the stories. I know the passages.
One of my favorites, “Rend your heart, not your garments”, from Joel talks about exactly where I’m at. The locusts came. Devastating and destructive. Wiped out everything except the skin over the bones of the population. And that’s where I was. I couldn’t function without hating. I couldn’t breathe without feeling a sting. And believe it or not it wasn’t the memories of my past. It was realizing I still expected myself to be what everyone else saw as functioning, successful, living the dream. Well I’ll take the nightmare that still sometimes haunt over 2.5 kids and a three-car garage and a trophy wife that believes in Fox news and Betty Crocker. I have rendered my heart over and over again, only to find that many who knew my struggle didn’t really know me.
I still weep. Usually at really cheesy romantic movie clips from YouTube. Or when I miss my kids. I rarely cry over my past. I do cry over the day I tried to end it all, but wouldn’t you too? And I’m writing this for me. I don’t mind if you read it, but I only put this down in words tonight because it’s important. Not for you. This is always for me to gauge just where I’m at.
I’ve tried to love. It sucks. And I’ll most likely try again, though I find I’m pretty blunt and hard for some women to take in. I come across about as subtle as a hand grenade at times, but I have a huge heart that would do just about anything for those I care about. Even sit at hospitals, which I loathe and try to pretend I’m the dutiful son, while inside I’m just trying to escape a place I have seen the inside of for the wrong reasons. I don’t mean to complain, just try to understand that I ain’t there for the coffee. If I remember correctly, we had a great uncle Marvin that was the town curmudgeon. Maybe that’s my lot! Wouldn’t that be a hoot, to have my little shack and the kids all avoid or dare each other to throw a rock at the windows?! No, that’s not me, but I’m not normal. I’ve got too much Goddamm Martin in me.
What I am doing is trying to take responsibility for the bullcrap that I do, and not make promises I can’t keep. Tell people when I can’t handle any more and do everything I can to voice what I can really do. Not promise you I’ll be there when I know from the beginning that it just isn’t going to happen. It probably hurts some, and some just scratch your heads. But I’m learning me. I’m such an odd duck at times. But I’m full of life, even when trying to hide it. Like Family gatherings. I sat at the last family gathering I went to and had the best conversation with my cousin and his wife. They live the Jesus life with church, sports, probably a three-car garage, but I respect them for their commitment to each other and appreciated the one time at that gathering that I felt ok. I don’t like big groups like that. It’s never going to be ok.
I quit my job back in April of last year to see if I could find passion in what I do. I need to be passionate about work. I can’t just go fill out TPS reports all day and clock out at the end and be satisfied. And the job was killing me. Literally, I went to my doctor and she told me the stress of driving so many miles a week, trying to balance the pace and workload was something that I needed to change. Told me my eyes were sunken and I looked, well, sick. I am still trying to find the right job, the right position that will match my love of people (yes, though I avoid some settings, I still love ministering, listening to, helping others). But I’ve held some cool smaller jobs that have helped me pay my bills and see other lines of work. We’ll see in a couple of weeks if some of that is brought clearer into focus.
My kids are good, and I’m still here for them, but I’m just never going to be the TV dad that I feel like some want/expect me to be. Unless it’s Al Bundy, now there’s a role model. Whatever happened to just showing up. Trying each and every day. Isn’t that pretty good in this crazy plugged-in, checked-out world? I’m going to see my son take the next steps into the Army. Hopefully he’ll survive basic and find a path for him that will allow him to grow and mature, while teaching him a skillset that he can use for life. My daughter is already at Kennesaw State University this semester, her last semester of high school. I can’t claim much on this one. She’s done it herself. I’ve signed some papers and keep urging her to stay on top of things, but in reality, she’s in control of most of this. And I’m thankful she is going after what she wants soooooo much. To be a teacher. We’ll see if it stays that way. But she’ll have opportunities no matter. And little man, well that’s a whole other paragraph.
Last January I was shaken. My little man, who I love so dearly was taken. And I’ve weathered that. The emotions. The distance. I don’t like it and there are still a lot of battles to fight with his mother, the person who truly hurt me more than any other in this life, but I see him this weekend and that makes it just a little easier for tonight.
And with everything I’ve typed before this, I still have hope. I hope for adventures while doing something that I’m passionate about and sustainable for myself and my family. I hope for my kids to all find their own journeys to conquer, to fail and to get back up when they do. I’ll always try and be there, but I want them to know what it takes to go alone at times. For me, I have realized that I don’t need to have someone in my life. I want someone special, but it isn’t needed. And that puts things in a much different light. Hell, I pray for whoever decides she wants to some through that door. She’ll have her hands full. And let me say this. It is my deepest desire, that when things get ugly, when the shit hits the fan, that my someone special will know to just SHOW UP. It has been the one thing that hurts still. Those who say they care, but not walk through the door. Picking up the phone. Sending a message. But the biggest is being there. The last relationship I had was about three months. And I knew it wasn’t going to work when I lost a kid I was close to and they weren’t there, both physically or emotionally. Just show up. You get extra bonus points for that!
Still find refuge in the mountains. Still believe there’s a lot to learn and do in this life. And I’m growing. Every day.
So, I’m not quite the man I want to be, but I am the man I’m supposed to be. One day at a time.
P.S. Take the time to get to know me. Really learn who I am. If I let you in, you're part of a special small group. You're my family.
