The Emotional Orphan

So Im thinking today, as failure and roadblocks reveal themselves, as a bit
of depression seeps back in, and  I felt inclined to review those common
frivolities like goal setting, cover letters, resumes and the like.

I was struck by a train called epiphany.

I have virtually to personal goals, no marks Im truly trying to hit, and of
course this replicates a pattern which, if Im honest, has been with me all
of my life. It is the curse I cant break. I really feel little connection
to anything grounded in “reality”, and with rare exception no connection
with anyone. Those connections to the exceptions are weak.

Besides the standard familial scarification of my youth that Ive been
unable to escape, it would seem I have a psyche damaged just enough to
maintan this position.

It seems I keep on ending up in the same places. All my relationships have
incredibly similar outcomes. No lifelong friends, my only sibling is
missing in action, most likely dead or dying in some way, and in violation
of probation, a trick I taught her long ago. Not blessed with the
opportunities for healing I have had and lost, she gave up a long time ago,
a fate I havent quite succomed to yet. Thank God for the poet, dreamer,
Pisces in me.

All the women in my life seem to be hiding from me. I know because I seek
them out when there is a break in the action. And for me to be as loving,
romantic, dedicated, and faithful as I try to be in my committed
relationships, it really confounds me to have two ex-wives who apparently
find it incredibly easy to pretend I never existed.

I suppose I have become impervious to the strength of the standard
outcomes. Okay with the idea of seeking “truth” while selling cold drinks
on the beach instead of selling my soul to keep up with the Joneses. God
and I have worked too hard to reclaim mine.

Do I really ask too much in wanting to have a “home”, and to be in “love”,
to take what I have learned along the way and share it with those put in my
path ? What are the definitions of “success” and “failure” I m suposed to
go by ? My goals and aspirations have not been appropriate, or effective,
and happiness seems so elusive and incomplete. Its always been that way for
me, and Im really tired. Being a loner, without a home is losing its
Hollywood – poetic, lustre. Today it seems out of my hands. I suspect I
should be grateful I am at least able to grasp the concept of hope, and
that I am not as scarred, and psycho- crazy as those that understood me for
a minute or two say I should be…or dead.

62106-revised recently.