Dead Man Talking

Ms. Emily Dickerson was wrong. She did not hear a fly buzz when she
died. It was the gleeful laugh of Satan. That's what I heard as I sat
ready to die.

Hell is a real place but I'm not going there. That is the only real
hope that I have.

My life was spent foolishly. I squandered away my time here on Earth,
my health and any money I managed to make. The only smart thing I ever
did was become a Christian, a real Christian. I'm not one of those who
just say they are Christian but I know with the surest knowledge that
one can have that I am saved from eternal hell because of my acceptance
of Jesus Christ. I can die with confidence.

I have asked myself a thousand times why I should kill myself. Maybe
the question should be why live? I'll let you be the judge.

I was born in the early 60's. My family experienced nothing but pain
and struggle due to parental divorce and mental illness. Both my mother
and father were certifiable. There is no question that they should not
have had the power to vote much less marry and have children. But they
produced five children during their marriage and my mother had two
older children previous. Lucky seven.

Every day was a struggle for survival. Our little hearts yearned for
true love and affection and all we received was cruel attention. It was
a good day if one of use was not verbally, sexually or physically
abused. My eldest sister came to our rescue after she had been sexually
abused one to many times. She threatened to spills the beans if our
father did not leave. He left when I was 15. It was the happiest and
saddest day of my life. Divorce is horrible but the alternative for us
was worse.

We instantly became one of the poorest families in town. Preachers even
stopped visiting. I worked two jobs to help with the bills and pay for
my own cloths. Life was an endless routine of work, school, football
and work. I played football but hated it. I was the captain of the team
and still I hated it. I played for attention, any attention. My father
never saw one of my touchdowns or big plays. He never came. But still
as we celebrated in the end zone one of my touchdowns I scanned the
bleachers for my father. Maybe he was there tonight? I was young and
foolish but hope springs eternal.

I started going to church as I was pursuing my soon to be wife. A youth
minister preached the story of Jesus one night. I was floored. No one
had ever really explained to me how God gave his Son for our sins. That
night in a small church on the front pew Heaven opened up and I
literally experienced a vision. I saw the glory of God in an instant.
The peace, forgiveness and hope I received was overwhelming. Never
before or since have I experienced such joy. If only I could remember
that secret moment more clearly I would not be in the mess I found
myself in now. Memories fade, time passes.

Without a fathers guidance I joined the military after high school. I
tried college but failed miserably. I managed to pledge the only
fraternity on campus well known for their ability to drink, and perform
the most cruel hazing of pledges imaginable. My ability to withstand
the hazing was remarkable. Little did they know that I ate hazing for
breakfast, lunch and dinner for the majority of my life. Bring it
on.

I married my high school sweetheart right after boot camp. We made our
way to my first duty station in California in a beat up Buick that
needed oil every few hundred miles. Our dreams and hopes were high. I
was happy, sort of.

We brought two wonderful children into the world. They are precious.
But I find myself distant and unable to show affection. Like father
like son.

The Marine Corps set me straight or at least gave me all the discipline
I could ever want. A young man from a disadvantaged and broken home can
make something of himself if he is physically fit and willing to put
the effort into advancement. The occasional promotion or award left me
hungry for more. I shot up the ranks in a hurry. Before you know it I
was a Staff Sergeant and headed off to the Gulf War, Part One.

I returned from the war to cheering crowds and a welcoming family. Then
all hell surrounded me. My wife had been seeing another man while I was
in the Gulf. Yeah, I'm a hero.

Can't blame her much. I sucked as a husband and father. We divorced and
started seeing other people. Both of us almost married other people but
for some reason still unknown to me we broke off our wedding plans and
made some of our own. Marriage, round two.

The hell we went through as we patched our marriage back up is hard to
reflect on. Issues of trust and commitment were constant. I still
questioned why she had an affair. Still do. She says it was loneliness
and not knowing if I was going to come back alive that caused her to
pursue another man. Another Marine. Semper Fi,

We have been married off and on for the last twenty two years. We have
had some good times but mostly it's been a routine of short ups and
long lows. I guess I never could get over the affair. I poured myself
into my work. The promotions kept coming. As I approached retirement
even my job lost it's luster. I found myself sitting at my desk
pretending to be a Marine. My boss told me to get some help. That's
when I was diagnosed with mental illness. Thanks mom, thanks dad. What
a great genetic gift I had received from my parents. I got worse. After
a half a dozen mental ward visits and endless cocktails of pysch
medications I was no better. Even electric shock therapy did not help.
Life was loosing its appeal fast. The fat lady is warming up.

The Marine Corps had enough and sent me packing. I retired as a Captain
with an honorable discharge and a chest full of medals. Now what?

I got religion again. I poured myself in my church. You can do a lot
for God if you work hard at it. Don't you know He needs the help? Just
look at the mess this world is in!
It wasn't long before I had to let a whole new crop of folks down. Am I
bi-polar or so messed up from my own mistakes and past history that I
am of no use even to God? Penny for your thoughts.

Dictator. That's what she said I was today. My expectations of the
children were too high and that I was running rough shod over the whole
family. We had one hell of an argument today. We never get physical or
even very loud but the arguments are intense.
She cleaned the house, I retreated to my office. Marriage counseling
works for a while but we always wind up back to square one with me
angry about the past and depressed in general and she is stressed out
because of money, my relationship with the kids, etc. Story of our
marriage.

Size. They say it does not matter but that is a lie. I am smaller than
average and my wife has confessed to having been with bigger men and
having had very good sex with them. Talk about a real mind job for a
man. It's the classic nightmare of a 7th grader in a 9th grader's gym
locker all your life. The nightmares and suffering I've had over this
issue is enough to cause anyone to quit. I'm putting my two weeks
notice in.

Money. There is never enough. We make 7K a month and still we can't
make ends meet. What the heck is wrong with this picture? I'm dumb
founded by it all. It is the constant source of my wife's stress. Money
can't buy you happiness or sanity.

Children. Older teenagers are hell to live with. They are just trying
to grow-up and we are stressed out at who they want to be and what they
are doing on Friday nights.
What's a bi-polar father to do? Nothing?absolutely nothing.

In short, I'm tired of my mental illness and physical ailments caused
by my military service. My marriage is horrible. My relationships are
meaningless. I'm just taking up space waiting for something?anything.
It never comes.

The doc's said if I had been diagnosed earlier in life and been
afforded the benefit of counseling and drug therapy I would be a
different person today. Maybe, maybe not. Who knows. Can't cry over
split milk, or can you?

I'll see you in Heaven.