The dusty darkness

Maybe I should breakdown and blow my grocery money on pot. NY still hasn’t figured out the what and how, but our Indians have and I’m just a hop, skip, and jump from the Rez. Something has to work, right?

There is absolutely no second in my day that I’m not bombarded with regrets, longings, or mistakes. Music, television, and movies, anything with love implied or couples involved. Seeing a couple in the store or walking down the street, triggers me. All I want is to have just one more heartfelt conversation with Patty. Not a return to me one or leave him one, although I should because no one has ever thought of me when they’ve stolen my wife (wives) and girlfriends. Yes, I’ve only broken up with one girl way back 35 years ago in high school for the woman who would begin my losing streak. I have never had someone that was true to me. They’ve all cheated and eventually left me for another. I know, it must be me, I’m the common denominator in all of them. So, we have that answer.

I just want to talk to her about why. I want to know she cares about me because we spent 20 years together growing a family. She was with me when my cousin died, a friend died, my Father, my daughter, and my Mother. We made 4 children together. I don’t even care if she says the BS ” I love you, but I’m not in love with you” 🤮🤮🤮 I deserved a hugging cry together as our marriage died because I fuck sure don’t know why. This has been nothing but reverse amnesia, where I take the hit to the head and everyone else forgets me…

I’ve wrote about my fall, but never about the mild heart attack I had recently. It was what they call a Stress cardiomyopathy attack or as luck would have it “Broken Heart Syndrome”. I thought that once again I was having a panic attack, but somehow it felt different. So like the ass I am, I drove to an urgent care, and ambulanced to a bigger hospital for the poking and prodding. Seems I actually caused it by being the “winner” I am. They kept me overnight and released me, saying that although it was an attack it’s totally repairable if I just calm down, stop stressing, and relax. Three things I have yet been able to do in years. I’m just glad that the walk on the head didn’t have anything to do with it. The bills are going to kill though…LOL

So like I was saying before about no one checking in with me about how I’m doing or if they could help, still hasn’t happen except from my oldest boy Jonathan.

WHAT A COMPLETE DUMBASS I HAVE BECOME. I still think and hope for people, who clearly do not give the least bit of shit for me, to call me and see how I am. I almost feel bad because I didn’t have a widow maker where I could still be in the hospital plugged into machines and they would be inconvenienced by maybe having to bring my children to say goodbye.

And every second of every day I think about Patty and all the rest. I make myself actually sick with grief and sadness over these people, because I’m that guy. Mr. Sure you can have my first for your 2nd. Mr. Sure I’ll let you go first. Mr. Sure I won’t inconvenience your adultery by being passed off and difficult. What a joke I’ve become over the years. My kids love me, I know this, but I don’t think they ok up to me or even idolize me as I did with mine. I’m starting to not be able to see myself in them and if it wasn’t for my calls, texts, and visits,I don’t think anyone would talk to them about me.

Of course, as the title implies,  this is my thoughts in the dusty darkness of my damaged brain, where I’ve lost the ability to organize and pack up anything anymore. It’s all just one big cluster fuck in there now and it definitely shows on me now.