Just a couple words

The title of my biography will be: “Never Good Enough”

I have been accused of being self centered and making some things about me. There have been suggestions that my ego was the controlling force in my decisions. There were times it was true. Honestly, if there were things I wanted to explore and experience there were a lot of times I just created it. Instead of waiting for someone else I just did it. And if someone wanted to go on the same ride, then I was hopefully doing it right.

I great up with my dad telling me I was worthless and had not value in life. He said those exact words more times that I can count. I was never good enough and never doing the right thing. I was crashing through life with a man who wanted me to smile even if I was dying inside.

I was a fat kid once I got into my later teen years and heard about that a lot. I had a 38″ waist when I was sixteen. The summer between my junior and senior year of high school I lost weight and got into a much better look just like all those high school hottie films.

His words followed me into my adulthood. His words haunted everything I tried to do. When I did fail I was proving him right every time. Each time there was a tiny hint at failure, he was right.

In recent years I discovered that my mom’s voice was part of that too. While helping to manage her and my step-dad for the last 2 years, I discovered she was using a lot of the same language too. Her words, even though they were fueled by fear and loneliness, were tearing apart something inside of me. Nothing I did for her was good enough, and then I began seeing her differently.

I had me mom on a pedestal, one she never deserved to be on. She was a working mom. She survived 3 shitty… I mean shitty… husbands. Like really shitty. She was a survivor and in the end all the wear and tear from the men in her life turned her into someone I realized I did not like very much.

She and I, if we were ever really close, I cannot tell you when. She kicked me out of her house when I was like 13 or something like that. I had to go live with my dad. And from the previous paragraphs you can see how well that went.

I am such a damaged human being. But. I am more aware of who I am, who I want to be, more than ever. I feel helpless in my life for the first time ever at my age, with few job prospects, but with a lot of demons.

I have a shopping list of life regrets I need to deal with. I will. I will. But, I have been on a very special road for being a better me over the last 2 years. I need to keep going.

Feeling it

I have no friends. Well, I do but they are all so far away. This really sucks that I am alone in that area. While C Monster is very important to me there are people missing in my life right now that are beyond my relationship.
In San Francisco I am alone… and I feel it intensely some times. I know at least a thousand people here and no one to hang out with. Some people seem like they could be there but they are not. Maybe I am too thick to see them?
The thing is I have worked really hard on cultivating some things here, but the friendships have been based on the wrong things. I had a friend named Victor who left me in the dust. Repeat several times and insert the names JJ, Jaden, Mark and more into that slot and the story repeats itself.
I have left friends before. Only when I saw them hurting themselves or other people and I could not be a part of that. That was my call. I did it with my parents before they went into recovery. I did it to people I was closest to. But that took strength.
I am alone. In a room full of people I am alone. I wish I had something better to write

24 Hours later

Venting should be therapeutic. Catharsis should be lifting? Idk, but after yesterday’s post I hoped to take some of the weight off my shoulders and find  little more freedom of the weight that has been in my heart. I have no idea if I achieved any of that, but a lot of shit went down.
wp_20141005_00624 hours later my bf and I had a huge fight after I wrote that about some MORE seriously… seriously stupid stuff. I wanted out of the relationship again, and didn’t. He is the one usually holding us together and it was as if he was letting us unravel. But it was really me.
I went to work as usual today and it was… meh. A long day. A meaningless day, but a day where I wonder what the fuck I am doing with my life. This job is a year of karma points. That’s all. But my boss said some nice things, not what I expected, and I wondered again if it was all worth it.
Turns out we are supposed to go to Pismo Beach for a wedding for one of his friends. I am going… just to get out of town. So yeah.

In a dark place….

When I started writing this blog as many years ago… it was a time when I was much happier. I am like a swimmer in the ocean caught in the rip tides these days often pulled helpless under the curling waters unable to catch a breath. I am in the wall of an ant trap unable to escape what lay below or the freedom which seemingly exists above.
I grew up so certain of some things and at my current age I have not seen any of those things come true. Everything I thought was written in my minds has so far been a delusion; neither positive or negative these ideas have been the exact opposite of what I dreamed.
In these times I am floundering in those tides of a rough sea in a place both mentally and physically that are killing me like a psychological cancer; my sanity in question and the random disappointments like those killer tides.

  • I was supposed to be dead by the time I was 32: failed that one as I am staring 51 in the face.
  • I was supposed to be wealthy and having traveled the world before that death… well I guess I got that half right. Being perpetually poor and unable to hold on to a buck. Being constantly in debt and unable to escape taxes, credit cards, student loans debt debt debt really plays on a person’s soul and mind.

No that I am the healthiest of minds to begin with. Not that the way I was raised was any solace to feeling like a healthy human being. I feel like I am dying on the inside and I have no one to find a handle with.
This has nothing to do with my boyfriend, because I love him more than anything right now. I would not want to lose him, but I might need to break away for enough time that I can feel like I have a grip on myself and my responsibilities.

Misery Myself

Lately things have been feeling so tightly wound that I feel like I am nothing but a bag of delicate twigs inside. Push a little on the outside wrapper and something inside breaks before it bends. It feels like that is all that is left in me.
WP_20141225_001Not that anyone is paying much attention. I know this blog is invisible to anyone that matters. I know my purpose in life is like a battery that lost its charge and alternatives keep looking better and better. Either way, I am such a coward. And I seem to be king of the pity-police.
Anyway, this web site has degraded itself into a platform for all my misery, I feel like the pity-me road started when I left Vegas and devolved into this. Whatever it takes to make change happen for the better I should find it soon or Plan B.

What is a Friend?

One of the things I struggled with a lot here in San Francisco is that it has been really hard telling who I am friends with and who I am not. There are people I want to hang out with and I also want people to hang out with me. Sometimes those wants/needs/desires do not come together at the same time.

Who are my friends? And why do I find the people I care about most live the furthest away? Is distance the key to keep friendships with me? It is so frustrating.
rp_20080524_me-005edit.jpgMind you I have some people I consider to be friends here, but there are times when it is clear that the friendship is one way. Not all, but it is a mutha-fukin’ struggle to get together with people. And I have discovered that party-friends are great when the party is happening but absent otherwise.
What I want in a friend is everything I am willing to give. Maybe that is not enough. Maybe that is the core of my failures in my hubris because I have failed on so many levels …it sucks. Not to play a tired violin but while I have taken inventory of my failures they are mine. And I am a good person…. who is flawed.
What kinds of friends do I think I want?

Completely platonic people who are interesting, creative and not pretentious to go to diner with and share a drink with on occasion. Male or female or other I love you all. *

*Something inside me is not finding this person. I have hangups that keep me from finding these people at this stage of my life somehow. I think I keep looking for this next category more:

photo 1Male friends who like the naked things who love going to playful places not necessarily wanting to have sex, but comfortable enough with themselves and others that boundaries are gray. Drinking and partying may be involved but nothing so wild it gets stupid. Dancing is great, let’s make a posse, but let’s not get lost but maybe let’s get dinner. **

**Again the problem with this group is that the agenda of the other friends seem to take priority over mine or our agendas are written in different books and converge only in passing.

A posse. I want a posse. I want a group of friends who like to have adventures – food – hanging out.

Yeah, I sound kinda fucked up, right? There were people I had to hang with then I lived in Vegas and back in my Boston days. I guess I expected to find that here in San Francisco but it just has not happen. It’s been pulling teeth trying to get people together in any situation here. So I am thinking it is really really time to leave and move on.

and a little venting….

I am sitting here having gone through UrielsJournal.Com several times with quite a few updates. I tried to refine this thing I might have lost control of and lost site of… ya know what I mean.

Scott Aug 1966

Scott Aug 1966

I kind of do the same thing with me. I lost myself as much as I lost track of what it meant to be living. I also find myself being reflective of where I am and how I got here. I cannot blame my parents.
I know I blame a lot of my personality problems on my father. As fucked up a human being I thought he was, I am left often wondering about him. Who he is now? Yet, I doubt he has changed much. That story has been told here enough. [#jack#father#failure] [post: letter]
My mom is a warrior. She is fighting on through life and she takes good care of my step-dad even though she faces a lot of criticism. But, she is my foundation.
When I think back to my childhood there is a lot of blank spots. I see my mom as this hard working woman who took a lot of shit, but worked her way for retirement and got what she wanted (well, sort of). She gave it to me once or twice as best she could to keep a fucked up kid like me in line.
Family Shot: Me, Dad, and Uncle on my moms side

Family Shot: Me, Dad, and Uncle on my moms side

My dad on the other hand… most of my memories of Jack are very negative. There were good memories, but they were torn up in the mess.
Why have I blocked out so much of my childhood and why do I remember it as if it was torn up and left in small pieces on the floor? I sound like him when I talk sometimes. I hate that about me.
My laugh is like hers. My relationships are like hers; a least in my approach. I feel like I have no friends and am alone; which I think is a lot like she might feel.
Now, my step-dad on the other hand is a good man and a positive influence in my life. I really only have pleasant memories of him and only learned of all his medical problems this year. I cannot believe my head was so deep in the sand.
Me and Mom

Me and Mom

Narcissism or not I am trying to live my life the best way I can. I am not worthy of myself and I am afraid that in my wake other people could get caught in those current and be dragged down. I really hate myself sometimes and would gladly be done with me. I want to do good things for good people and yet it feels like everything and everyone I touch turns to ashes eventually.

The above movie link …well, it got me thinking about Jack. I don’t hate him. He is the cornerstone for the dysfunctional part of me… maybe. As much as I try to be a better person. To be a good friend. To be a good partner. Good son. Good human. When his voice comes out of me it all turns to ashes in my hands. I guess I do blame him.
Update: 5 Minutes Later : A friend posted this on Facebook
Yep, it made me laugh and finish with a light sigh. Perspective?

speaking of notes…

I am part of a production for a something called Secure Camp where we are trying to build a community, grass-roots program for the reduction of sexual assault. I heard said that if you were a victim of sex assault that you should not be part of something like this. Well, I thik I have been victim and aggressor in my life.
greenDotSqDear old man on Bonner Street when I was 4 or 5 years old:

  • what was it about a boy my age that inspired you to think that I wanted to play with your cock? I had to pee, which is why I touched my groin, not an invitation to you. Not for you to pull my pants down and open up your pants and show me your old dick. I can still see us in your house like I was outside of myself and I am sure I had no idea if this was right or wrong.

Dear girl:

  • we were both kids and sexuality was a thing that I had permission to explore; unspoken by parents that maintained a huge inventory or porn in our house. When I talked you into fellating me and your mother caught us; believe it or not I can still see the pain in your eyes that I talked you into doing what we did. The look in your lovely eyes still haunts me sometimes. I hope life has been kind to you and that you don’t remember that stupid day at all.

There were more stories, but the sins of my past aren’t all mine alone. I don;t know if writing them out and setting them loose is an answer to anything. But it it takes the demons out of my head then I will take the chance.
I am too sensitive to allow myself to put pain on other people, but I have.
Weird thing is that that whole thing from when I was a kid and a dirty old bastard touched me haunts me hard and I fucks my head.


It happens time to time where I look around and I feel like I have no friends and bf is busy doing his own thing. I feels like I am really feeling so alone. Sucks.
Those Facebook friends… are all so far away. Those people you loved locally… do they love you back?
Those friends in L.A. and Vegas and other cool places are so far away. ugh…


Why should I start with a title before writing something here? I do and then I want to change it when done. I started today’s title with: Drifting.
There are those rare moments when I feel like I am standing at the edge and close to giving up all faith. I feel like I am going no where and continuously sinking into the ground while finding nothing of a future for me. My career is a joke. I am almost 50 years old and still making $14./hour in a seriously SHIT job.
I tell people… as soon as I got a college education I started making a lot less money.
Somewhere along the way I fell down and got a bad road rash and I have been struggling and falling almost constantly for the better part of a decade.
Yes I have blessings in my life. I have what remains of my family: mom, step dad-bob, crazy step sister Christine and a few other steps  like a lot and love. Top of the pile is C Monster … he has stuck with me through hell and high water. I am lucky to have someone that loves me like that. I did little to deserve it.
On my way home form work tonight … yes 1am in the morning… I stared out of my dead eyes and I told myself I was seeing the end of the rope again. A handful of the right pills and a good solid nap I probably won’t have to deal with all that shit anymore. But… some fucked up click in the universe seems to have made an afterlife nearly as complicated as life we know.
Ending it all would hurt my mom and my C Monster and those are things I can’t leave behind. If I just gave up what would I have to live for? Often it is very much the case where I feel all I have to do is jump and get it over with.
Do you every ruminate? I have these thoughts of being really high up and falling a lot… damn if it does not freak me out. I get this vertigo feeling when up high on a ledge… freaky.