My mind is so screwed up. I apologize to my dad. I used to bag on him for things he failed to do. I gave my brother a hard time for what he was not. I am the worst of all us.

The terrible thing is I have a new job I am starting. I am the fucking director of the program. I am the leader, the boss. And I feel like ignorant shit.

I have a good job starting, with a good company. And all I can think about is how I will fuck it up. I seriously want to cry. I am on the verge of a new opportunity and all I see are the million ways I will fail. embarrass myself. Disappoint my daughter. Break my moms heart. Reinforce my wife’s belief I am a fuck up. Justify the WIL‘s jettisoning me.

I write that last post in the parking lot i stopped at the first time I came to dana point. Nine years ago. I thought I was on top of the world. I had gone from being a chaplain, to a sales person, to an executive director to a director of sales in two years. I had more than doubled my salary. I leave now completely pulverized. My money, ego and sanity are all gone. I am crawling to Arizona trying to pull my life to some semblance of functionality.

I accept that I have a mental illness that keeps me from functioning at work.

I went over to my daughter and wife’s house. I explained to my daughter that I struggle at keeping jobs. I then explained it to my wife the struggles I was having. Mentally, emotionally, financially. We don’t communicate much so it was nice to be honest. She shared her own struggles.

She also shared she made more income last year than me. Which wounded my pride. But interesting note. She always made more money than me until our daughter was born, I stopped being the chaplain and we moved to California. I built this persona that I could and would be super dad. That I would take care of all the finances and make things secure. Instead I failed.

I told my daughter I didn’t want to traumatize her by moving. My parents moved from South Dakota to wyoming when I was nine. It always felt I was not home. But my wife shared what I knew but didn’t want to admit. Mt daughter is traumatized by my job changes. She worried about me losing my job. My failure has affected her. She is struggling in school. I have no credibility to tell her how to succeed.

They don’t want to come to Arizona because they are afraid I can’t keep a job and abandon them. I admitted it probably was best not to explore moving right away.

The frustration I feel is not being able to get out of the situation. I can objectively say hospice sales are not for me. I can even say I would probably find more fulfillment doing something other than operations. But I do these jobs. Poorly. And just keep doing them. I am not even getting by. I am ramming my head into a post for money. How did I get so fucked up? How did the situation get so bad?

“Success was something you just had to be, and I would spend myself unknowingly” John Prine

I have been thinking about success. Was does it mean to me?

When I was a chaplain I was successful because I loved what I did. I loved the title and the respect o received from people.

When I was in sales I was successful because of powerful titles and big paychecks

What do I consider success at this point in life? Internally, what would make me feel pride? Accomplishment? Happiness? All I can think is being validated by money. Success is making more money than I did the previous year. But that doesn’t speak to what I felt when I thought I saw the WIL. What made me feel self conscious? Unworthy? What would make me feel worthy?

I have had a good drive from Henderson to Barstow. Lost $20 in Primm but had fun. Coming into California I was sad at first. I realized I would no longer identify as Californian. Then memories of visiting before moving here nine years ago came back. I realized I could reclaim the energy. I could be a tourist. Still enjoy California without staying.

I feel a sense of relief at them momentZ back to the being paroled concept. I have finished my time here. I have enjoyed it. But the professional aspect has left me wanting.

When I was walking into the store I thought I saw the WIL. It wasn’t her but I wondered what I would do or say if I did run into her. My lack of professional pride has hurt my confidence. More than California, more than relationships I need to find my pride again

Not sure where I am going with this but wanted to get it down.

I walked by the mirror and noticed the skin on my neck is getting creppy (is that a word?) I then instantly thought “that another reason I was rejected by the WIL.”A little bath bomb of sadness went off in my head and washed over my insides. It was a stupid little off hand observation but it dropped depression on me.

Her loving me validated me. I don’t know if her rejecting me invalidated me or if I just don’t have that empowering assurance any more.

I am so tired of having to reconcile and honor the past. Make room for my feelings and experiences in utah. I am like a guy watching a football game and can’t stop saying how it was better ten years ago. Fuck. Let it go. Holding on proves nothing. I gain nothing. I am a prisoner to something that exists only in my mind. And I feel like shot because I even had to bother writing this post…all because I noticed I have old man neck

The jackpot on the slot machine I played last night was $100,000,000. For an instance I imagined winning that money. How would my life had changed? I would feel vindication. After nine years I have no confidence in my abilities. Nothing to show for my career. No historical data that proves I have any idea what I am doing. After nine years I have no wife, no WIL. I have no meaningful relationship with a partner. After nine years of clawing to keep Southern California a safe home for my daughter I am moving to Phoenix.

In a little more than a week I turn 49. I am on a fucking epic losing streak. I still believe in redemption. The question is, “which will come first? Redemption or death?” If I play the game long enough I will start to pick up wins. Find a job I am good at, build some fortune. Get involved in a healthy relationship. Mend the ones from the past. Provide for my daughter. The real life struggle to stay sane and alive is constantly in my face. The darkness is racing after me. The devil might get me before I see my fortune turn. But I still have to run

I am feeling vulnerable this morning. No matter how much I type. My wife, my daughter think I am making a rash decision. I am running away from my problems. Maybe I am. The only thing I know is I cannot function in a professional capacity living in Orange County. Maybe I am broken completely. Maybe Phoenix will be the same. But this is the situation I face. I have to try. I could not financially stay any longer. I know it is necessary. I know it is for the best. But I feel I failed.

“By hiding parts of our story…we claim a divine role for ourselves; we become judges of our own past and limit mercy to our own fears.” mornings with Henri J.M. Nouwen page 4

I swear I spend 99% of my thoughts lamenting loss. Lost memories, moments, relationships. Lost physical abilities. Lost energy. I mope constantly.

There has to be acceptance. This is my time. The fate of the moment. I need to exist. as I am at this time.