My wife and daughter weren’t home yesterday when I went to tell them about Phoenix. I need to tell them today.

There are some good things. Because we don’t live together my daughter doesn’t need to move right away. She can finish school and adjust to a new city/home. With the pandemic she can do school in Phoenix just as easily as California. My wife hates Orange County so she will be happy. My mom will be disappointed and might not come out right away because she won’t want to be a burden.

Letting go of the past is hard. The future is exciting but tempered. Everyday I feel more at ease and excited. I am thankful for the time in California but just as relieved to be leaving. Nothing is ever permanent. Don’t judge me if that changes in six months.

Distractions aren’t enticing. They are empty. The reason I want to get rid of them is because I wasn’t enjoying them any more. The smoker analogy. The distractions are cigarettes long after my lungs have had it.

This morning I went for a walk, came home, brewed coffee, turned on the weather and worked out. Then I started posting. The existential need to be heard grows more everyday. Part because I am older. Part circumstance and part training. My mind has shifted to if I am not producing content I don’t want to do it. Funny in the past that filled me with dread. Because I wanted to indulge. Enjoy distractions. Producing felt like an obligation. Sacrifice. Now producing content is soothing. When I am typing my mind is engaged. Like knitting. The mode I drop into eases my stress. Kudos WordPress blog app. Who knew you would save my life. Not sure the content for you dear reader (hat tip drew magary) is fine quality but you have a babbling friend over here. And you are never alone. We don’t talk, meet or text but we have a relationship

Being a chaplain is the greatest feeling. A sense of selflessness, offering help. A chaplain is respected.

Being a hospice Chaplain is life affirming. Doing hospice sales is soul sucking. Operations are a little better.

The opetrmistriat checking my eyes asked me about hospice and wanted to talk about it when I told her what I did for a living. But I didn’t match her passion. I am a program director, not a care provider. I didn’t get enthusiastic. Back in the day when I told people I was a chaplain and they wanted to talk about it I shared the energy.

I miss loving who I am and my job. But I don’t feel compelled to go back. I loved being the chaplain but I did hospice chaplain work for almost seven years. There would not be the discovery or wonder like before. I need to move forward and find my next adventure. Phoenix is more and more exiting everyday. Being a director is “meh.” I will work hard, I want to succeed but it isn’t my passion. It is a job. I feel bad admitting that.

When I became a parent I was depressed. The changes in expectations and responsibility took away the activities I used to recharge my batteries. The loving relationship my wife and I shared was tossed over for a scrambling to survive coparaenting survival.

I hardened inward. No longer could I be indulgent. I stuffed my needs. The playful adventurous child inside me was exiled to protect the new child.

All that was left was this wooden caricature. What I thought represented “dad.” I was a serious, money driven and stopped at nothing. That is the role I have kept playing. Whether I liked it or not, whether I was good at it or not.

Phoenix has broken the mold. The chain of my captivity has snapped. The facade has crumbled. Anyone could see I was ill fitted to the role of ruthless blood thirst. I stubbornly acted like nothing was wrong.

My daughter is at the age where all the books she reads have the parents dying. She is finding her independence. She is discovering her adult. I am finding my child again. You are not banished any more. Come out and let me love you too.

I can tune out thoughts of the WIL that overcome me emotionally. But she owns my feelings of love intimacy and connections. So when I am compartmentalism and not thinking of that it is fine. When it is late at night she demands my attention. And the cycle continues. If I believe she loves me I would wait for eternity for her. If I am feeling she doesn’t love me or is indifferent my soul collapses.

Being in Southern California, raising my daughter here has really been the last pillar of purpose for me. That changing dislodged the last connection. I know I need to leave but I am adrift. I need to get out to Phoenix and start working and get the fuck out of my head.

I can’t believe how close I was to moving back to utah. Not back in the emotional sense but physically back in the state. Probably best not to go back. At least for now. But bittersweet

I need to be honest. I need to ask my wife for a divorce. Let her go on with her life. I need to bless and release the WIL and honor her choice. I need to put myself out there and meet someone new. I am doing this to myself. I have tortured everyone, including me unnecessarily

The scenes from the five years I was in utah and happy play like a movie that is always on in the background. It is how every thought is shaped. The time, the place, the job, the friendships, falling in love. The moment has such a powerful half-life. I am haunted. I can’t move on but I don’t want to let go. It drives everything yet leaves a sadness that I can’t live in the presence or dream of the future. I experienced life at its fullest. I am thankful. I experienced life in it most beautiful form. I am haunted

I was a chaplain. I genuinely hoped people in need and made a decent living doing it.

Now I job hop around trying to make as much money possible doing things I hate. When did I lose my way? And why can’t I get back? Or find something new?

I am not in a good place. Physically I am fairly healthy and in shape. But mentally I am in a darkness. I don’t see much hope or possibility. I can’t fathom physical violence in myself or anybody else but I don’t know where to turn for peace. The void is screaming

Not trying to project perfection, hide my weaknesses and admitting my shortcomings is liberating. There are things I wish I wasn’t, things I wish I didn’t do. Failures I am embarrassed to own. But at least I don’t have to exhaust myself putting up a facade. For other people and even for myself. I read old material about being a coach and I tried so hard to grow, be someone different. Believing if I just worked harder, was more consistent or even put myself in sink or swim situations I would change and find huge success. I am just me. I am pretty much the same guy I have been since I was 15 years old just starting high school. The same guy just doing the best he can in the situation and role I was given

I either go to bed at 6:30pm or stay up and get shit faced drunk. There are really no other options. I have such anxiety about how to spend my time at night. I don’t know what to do. I can get up and 3:30am, go for a walk, exercise, write, check the news. Mornings I am focused and dialed in. Nights I am an addict loser that is going to destroy himself. I think it is more extreme with the pandemic and not having work. I am so fucking bored. I thought I was bored before when I could go to the store, the gym, the coffee shop. Jesus. Now I really know boredom

Retired my dick. I won’t have sex any more unless it is with the WIL. And even in regards to her I dont believe in a reconciliation or happy ending. I am accepting more and more it is over and in the past. Time to move on. I don’t even know if I have the energy to get a divorce or date. I would like to meet someone just for conversation and getting to know them but the barriers of my wife and the WIL are strong.