Thoughts I

Hi,

I’m not sure who I’m writing to; God….my Dad, Cassell, my kids…….my self maybe. Alls I know is I’m not perfect. I have so many flaws and some times they catch up to me. Usually in the times I feel like it is too late and that’s why I start writing. It’s the only thing that makes me feel like me. I told you I’m weird. I just do stupid things and I can not explain them to …. well, no one not even my self. I feel the need to save people. When I say save people I don’t mean like from a burning building I mean from like them selves. But I’m starting to think that I do that for selfish reasons. Or maybe I tell my self that because I want to make my self feel better for doing dumb shit. That’s why I married my wife that’s why I fell in love with her. I thought she needed me I thought she needed saving. Maybe she did or, maybe I did. The truth now after 15 years is she doesn’t need me….. to save her. I need to be saved from my self. My life is spiraling down ward I have been drinking, I am loosing control of my kids, my job is not what it used to be, I am giving up a little more every day. I’m not sure why because I have everything every one wants right down to the perfect job. I all ways said that I was best when my back was against the wall. The problem is I can’t enjoy my self when it isn’t. I used to tell my dad all of this when he was a live he new exactly what to say. He listened unconditionally. (If that makes sense) He new I wasn’t perfect and he didn’t care. You don’t know what that person means until he’s gone. No, not even then do realize what that person meant to you. You don’t realize it until you screw up again and you need him only to realize you are alone. He is gone and now all you have is a key board and a letter to no body.

My Wife? I love her more than any one or any thing on this earth. She is my heart and soul. Why can’t I get her to believe that? I think that is the reason why I can’t talk to her. I love her too much. I don’t want her to know I have flaws. I can’t let her know that I am not as strong as I act. I am a cowered I have no self control, I am not educated. I’m smart but not intelligent. I’m smart enough to make intelligent people think that I am intelligent. I am so scared I am going to screw this up. My family is all I have. They are the only reason why I exist. I know how this sounds. I told you I was smart and I also told you I was weird; Insane maybe. Only they say the definition of insanity is making the same mistakes and expecting different results. Only, I don’t expect different results. I know the possible out comes but I do it any way. The whole time I’m telling my self “Don’t do it! Don’t do it! Don’t do it! Don’t do it! Also, the whole time knowing that my conscience will destroy me. Destroy me? Destroy my family and, destroy everything I care about. I am selfish for seconds at a time. What precious seconds I would like to have back. Those second in between making a terrible decision and actually following through with that decision. If we could just have those few seconds back it would be probably five minutes worth of our whole life. Those five minutes would change our lives so much.

Who do we trust with those five minutes? When he was alive it was my dad. I prey a lot. I always have. I believe in GOD to the fullest. I have seen him I have felt him and, I have herd his voice. I believe in his power. I have done most of this from my bed. I say that because the one time I seen his presents I was in a little old church in Kerrville Texas. Other than that I have only attended church a handful of times. However it was my dad who taught me to believe and my grandmother taught to prey. I have all ways felt the signs; God talking to me telling me what to do and guiding me. The truth is he believes in me as much as I believe in him but I don’t listen every time he tries to tell me or guide me. I think that’s what makes me worse than most is he trust me with the knowledge of seeing and hearing him and I still don’t do it some times. When it counts the most it seems. People say I’m lucky cause no matter what happens I all ways land on my feet. You would think that this would make me feel good but really it just makes me wonder why. Why does he take such good care of me? I know that is bad. I know not to wonder why not because that is what I herd or read but, because that is what he tells me to feel.

I guess I just want to say I’m sorry. Sorry for what I have done and, sorry for knowing that I will have to apologize for the same damn thing latter down the road. I guess I am writing this for any one in these shoes. I’m sure there are lots of us. We believe, we prey, we love but, some how we always find a way to hurt the people we love. I am just looking for the explanation. I am looking for the resolution. Depression is a feeling there is a reason for it. Where is the solution for it? How do we clear our conscience? That is a stupid question. Your conscience will clear with time. Every thing passes. When it passes then you will have to keep it clean. Keeping it clean is the hard part. Just like keeping a room clean. You start out with a clean room over time the room becomes filthy. It gets to the point where you have to take a day off to clean this room spotless it takes you all day and eventually you get the room clean again. You tell you’re self this time I’m just going to clean as I go and not let it get filthy again. A few weeks later you look down and the room is filthy again. The first thing you ask your self “how did this happen” SELF Discipline the lack of. So how do we get this how do we achieve this so we don’t hurt the ones we love the most because I am getting scared of what is going to happen to me if I don’t figure it out. I need to talk I need to trust and there is no one. I can’t tell family. Yeah they trust but it is a different kind of trust it is like they trust in you. They depend on you. They depend on me like I depended on my dad. When I got older he asked me my opinion on stuff but he didn’t trust me with his darkest secrets and for good reason. I would not have looked at him the same. I would have treated him differently. Now I know. It’s lonely here. I am a man but I have down falls and I have secrets that I want out of my soul. I guess I could tell my dad these thing because I new that he had secrets too. Even though he did not share them with me I new he had them. I felt it. That’s why I trusted him; he was in my shoes and, I new he new how that felt. I new that he respected the torment of wanting to do the right thing but just not being able to pull it off every time; he new that it was O.K. We had a connection.