A New Chapter

So last night was the end of a very long chapter of my life and I am being forced to close it.  My emotions on the end of this story are mixed, but I’m trying my hardest to just take it all in stride.  I’m not prepared to give out too much detail on the situation, but it is time for me to move on.  It is time for me to start writing a new story, even if I am being forced to.

It is not my decision to start this new journey, but I am determined to make it better than the last.  I am determined to make myself better and do better by the people that are in my life.  Hopefully I can be rewarded for my efforts if nothing else.  I am going to just take one day at a time and see what life brings me.  I may not succeed in this line of thinking, but I can promise that I will try and consciously make that decision every morning.

So to those who have bore my pain with me over the last year, I cannot thank you enough.  You all know who you are and I love you from the bottom of my heart.  You mean the world to me and you know that I would do anything for you guys.  You are my family, blood or not, and family means the world to me.  Your support is unparalleled to any other and I am very grateful.


Deep in the ocean Poseidon awaits

Trident in hand ready to deal my fate

Can’t breath  underwater so I’m holding my breath

I’m starting to realize that there ain’t nothing left

The last few months has been something awful. It’s hard for me to go into detail here as I have too many people that know me and I haven’t made anything really public yet. Maybe I’ll just start another blog and try to let my followers know somehow. Maybe I should just stop blogging since I don’t really  keep it up like I should. Or maybe I just say fuck it and not care who reads what and what they have to say about it.

For those of you  who might read this and do know what is going on, I just ask you again for some prayers for me. Getting through this is 1) something I never thought I’d have to do and 2) way harder than I could ever imagine.

Life is an interesting ride. I really need to stop fighting it and just enjoy it. I use to do that but it has gotten harder over the years. I need to get back to that place. I need to just enjoy life and be thankful for the things I do have and what I have control over (this is what counseling is supposed to be helping me with. Too early to tell if it’s working or not). Maybe if I say it  enough it will be true.

Until next time….

Feelings – Part 1

Laying here

Lonely and cold

Heated by anger

Freezing alone

Head’s not spinning

At least for the moment

The mistakes that I’ve made?

At least I can own it

Run away like a child?

No. I’m an adult and confront it

There’s nothing more to say

And the only thing to do

Is make plans for the future

With or without you

Gangsters, Athletes, and Rappers

What do mobsters, athletes and rappers have in common?

Ok. That’s a dumb question. Most rappers think they are gangsters and hang out/mention athletes.

In relation to me, however, those are the 3 things I have always wanted to be when I grow up.

“As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.” – Henry Hill, Goodfellas

This line has explained my life forever. I don’t remember the first time I wanted that life, but it has been for as long as I can remember, just like Henry Hill. The Godfather Part II is my favorite movie of all time. Followed closely by The Godfather and Goodfellas as 3 and 3a (my 2nd favorite movie is The Princess Bride. It is the most well rounded movie and will ALWAYS make me feel better. I can watch that movie any day, anytime, anywhere).

Ok. Back to being a goodfella. I’m  not talking about saggy pants, hat cocked sideways, throwing up gang signs (although I do/have done all of those things but that’s another story). I’m talking about $3,000 suits, money rolls from  collecting gambling debts, and having rule over your city. I know this is all glorified in the movies, but if you read up on things from the  actual Henry Hill or Al Capone, it really isn’t “glorified” as much as you may expect. Was there a lot of death and jail and bad things happening? Of course. But I’m oddly at piece with this. It truly doesn’t bother me. I would do it all to have that life.

Now on to being a rapper.  Let me start by saying I LOVE music. All kinds of music. I will listen to ANYTHING and have very few artists/genres I refuse to listen to. I love it all. My favorite (99% of the time because my taste fluxuates by the day sometimes) is rap. I love it for the play on words. The rhyming (or poetry. As you can tell I enjoy that from previous posts).  The way that you can say whatever the fuck you  want and hundreds of thousands of people will cheer. Again, it is also a lavish lifestyle, but this is the one dream job that I wouldn’t care as much about the money. Rhyming/poetry is my favorite form of expression. It is also the only dream job that  I still have a shot at living out, however unlikely it is.

As for being an athlete, one of the hardest days of my life was the day my football career ended. I was a senior in HS. I didn’t get injured and end my “career” that way. I’m just 5’7″ that isn’t very fast and kind of stocky. It just wasn’t in the cards for me. I still go to my brother’s games and have a hard time the first few games watching these kids play.  I love high school  football though. In my opinion, it is the purest sport that is played. The love and heart that goes out under the lights every Friday night is 2nd to none. I miss that. I miss the smell that is in the air in early September when you walk out onto that field. I miss it so much and wish I could have played more than  just 10 years.

I am trying to work my way into coaching now. I am currently helping with the scoreboard at games and filling in on away broadcasts.  I will always be around the sport, but it’s just not the  same as playing.

Well, that’s all I have for today.  The kids were watching tv and I was incredibly bored. Time to put them to bed. I hope you liked the little lighthearted look into my life.

Me, Myself, and I

I have made the decision to focus on myself.  I’m not doing to well to start off, but I’m determined.  It’s been an awful 2 years and I need to become a better person.  Whether everything I have been through is 100% my fault of not, the fact of the matter is, I am still at fault.  I need to be better for me.  I’m not a person who is good at focusing on me.  I am someone who always puts others before myself.  I take on their pain in hopes that they can have some relief.  But I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t bare that weight.  I have gotten to the point where I’m not sure how much of my own weight I can bare.

I decided to get the help that I believe that I need.  I am too much of a realist thinker.  I see a situation and analyze it and (think) I know how to deal with it.  I don’t.  I can’t know the answers anymore.  Not because the situation doesn’t make sense to me (because, believe me, it makes no sense in my head), but because I’m just not equipped to deal with it.  I need help to deal with my shit.  This has been a very difficult realization to come to that I can’t fix it.

I started seeing a counselor last week and I have to say that I am very excited to go back this week.  I desperately need to feel like myself again.  The biggest problem is, I don’t know who myself is anymore.  It hasn’t just been 2 years of not feeling like myself and me being unhappy, but the last 2 years have been hell.

I do not feel very good about myself and I have really been a disappointment.  No one should go through life feeling this way; so I decided to make a change.  If nothing else, I will be happy to just figure out things about me.  We’ll see how it goes.


Let’s try this again.

It has been a very long time since I have posted anything and there are several reasons for that.  The main reason is all I can think about is something that doesn’t need to be spread through any form of social media.  However, it has consumed my thoughts for over a year and it has worn me thin.

Honesty is something people always say they want to hear rather than a lie.  A lie will always come to fruition but there are some things that you need to keep a secret.  Some things nobody ever needs to know.  As much as that secret claws at you, you just can’t let it out.

Then it does and deciding to not lie anymore because the “truth will set you free”, right?  Wrong.  Sometimes it crashes your whole world.  Sometimes it makes it worse then letting that secret eat away at you.  Sometimes it kills every bit of your soul.

I can think of very little that hurts more than thinking you are doing the right thing by being honest and it all blows up your life into a billion, broken pieces.

I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it.  There was nothing I could do.

I just wanted to live an honest life.

Sea Stories #2: Biggest Balls In the Navy

So this didn’t happen while I was at sea, but it is one of my favorite things that happened in the Navy.  It probably doesn’t paint a flattering picture of me, and it definitely exposes my temper, but it is one of my favorites nonetheless.

I had just checked into a new command after having surgery on my foot.  It was a shore duty command and Marc had gotten me the job.  I worked for a 2 Star Admiral in the facilities management department (Basically mopped and buffed floors and fixed any “issues” the building had.  Basically I sat in my office and didn’t do a damn thing for 8 hours a day).

The day before I checked in, I went over to the building to meet some of the people I’d be working with.  I had just found out I had made 3rd Class (E-4) and I was very excited.  Now I had broken my foot at the end of September and it was now May the following year.  I had just had surgery in April and had been useless on my feet for 7 months.  As soon as I walk in the building the day I was to check in, I was asked to get my height and weight taken.  This was someone who was trying to basically ruin my career and I only knew one person, my best friend Marc.

I know who called for the BAC and that is another story, but the person who was “buddies” with this person was the Master Chief (E-9) of the command.  Needless to say… We didn’t hit it off all that well.

Shortly after I started, CMC asked if I could get him a parking spot reserved outside of his office.  I guess when he got there, he didn’t like the office he had (mine) and moved to the other side of the building.  He already had a reserved parking spot outside of the side door that led right into my office.  Whatever.  I called the base and asked them to come out and move the space for him.  They told me that each command can only reserve a percentage of spaces and we were at the max.  I told them I was asking them to black out one space and move it somewhere else.  They basically told me that “they’d get to it” and I knew damn well that meant my work order was going to the bottom of the pile.

I kindly went to CMC’s office and told him that.  He tried to argue with me and I told HIM to call the base and get it taken care of.  He dismissed me from his office.

About a week later he came to me and asked if I could just get it done.  It didn’t have to be “official” and if the base ever said anything that he would explain to them what he wanted.  I told him I would call my old command and have a stencil drawn and I would have it done by the following week.

Turns out, my squadron was on a 3 week dept and couldn’t get it done in that time frame.  When I told Master Chief this, he was less than pleased.  He said, “We have a whole bunch of squadrons on this base!  Just go to one of them and ask for a stencil!”

That’s not how shit works in the Navy.  You have to know people.  Even if you “know people who know people” that sometimes can work too.  But I was on a different base and didn’t know ANYONE in ANY of those squadrons!  I can’t just walk up to them and demand they make something for my CMC!  They’d just laugh in my face!

I told him I couldn’t do that and he stormed out of my office like a 2 year old who just got told they aren’t the princess of the world.

The following week, some Senior Chief (E-8) who I had never even seen before, comes into my office, throws a bag of cans and a scalpel on my lap, and says, “Did CMC tell you to do something?  You fucking do it when Master Chief tells you to do it!  You have until COB.” and then he walked away.  I looked at my supervisor and said (loud enough I’m sure Senior heard me), “Who the FUCK was that?!?!?! What is this shit?”

It was a bag of 2 cans of red spay paint and one can of black.  He wanted me to go SPRAY PAINT THE FUCKING PARKING SPOT!

So, I took my scalpel, took some cardboard, and cut out a big CMC out of it.  Proceed to go outside and paint his parking space.

I fucked up my measurements and ended up painting the entire width of the spot red and put in big black letters CMC.

I was so mad that when Marc tried to come out and talk to me, I just ignored him.

When I was finished, I walked into CMC’s office and said, “There.  It’s done.”  He said “Thank you” and I went back to my office.

About a 10 minutes later, Marc comes running down to my office and said, “I see you’ve finished.”

Me: “Yeah.  Fuck him.  He’s a dick.  I’m not even gonna tell that fuck head of a Senior Chief”

Marc: “Well.  You got everyone laughing upstairs.  Someone looked out the window and said ‘Wow.  Who did that?  You know what that is?  That’s one big FUCK YOU to a Maser Chief!'”

Me:  “That is not what they said!”

Marc:  “Yup.  You have all those retired Chiefs, Senior Chiefs, and Master Chiefs, along with my Captain, thinking you have the biggest balls in the United States Navy.”

Me:  “I’m not fixing it.”

Marc:  “I know.”

It stayed there for about 3 months before I fixed it.  I litteraly had CMC BEGGING me to do it.  I finally gave in before my 2nd surgery on my feet.

It has been 7 years and it is still funny.  Whenever I’m in a shitty mood or feel trapped, this is the story I remember remind myself that “I have the biggest balls in the United States Navy.”