Twelve is better than one, I always say.  Twelve beers can numb this feeling better than one can and that is how I deal with the depression lately.  I try to curb it.  I try to stay away from it.  It is easier to deal with everything when i'm goofed out and numb.  I'm not a violent drunk.  I'm a stupid drunk.  I say dumb things.  I do dumb things.  Sober, I'm not very coordinated.  When I'm drunk, keep me far from your fine china and antiques.  I have my daughters only 4 days out of the month and it kills me.  When I am by myself in that cold, dark place I can only think of how drastically my life has changed.  The beer helps.  They try to get me to go to meetings, but I tell myself I do not have a problem.  I don't drink and drive.  I don't get drunk around my kids.  I keep it to myself.  I keep it to myself to get rid of the hurt and loneliness.  I drink to stop thinking about her and him and all the game-players and liers that have followed since.

     Oh, I've tried to move on.  I've tried to be Dudley Do-Right and be a nice guy and treat the women I've dated the best I can, but they always run with no warning and leave me asking questions.  They tell me I'm too nice.  They tell me when guys are nice, it sends warning signals off in their heads.  They need some asshole mixed in with the nice factor.  

     Excuse me?  I'm supposed to be an asshole to women?  Isn't that counter-productive?  I thought it was about talking and communicating and opening doors and paying for dinner and listening, etc..... I woke up from this 15-year nightmare to find a society I do not recognize.  No one dares talk anymore about love or emotions.  Those subjects are taboo and if you dare mention either, you have just guaranteed yourself a ticket out the door.  I guess I need to keep it simple and look for love for all the wrong reasons?   

     I just found out my ex-wife is engaged again.  Good for her.  I do not think I could ever trust anyone with my soul again.  A lifetime was wiped out leaving me alone, afraid and with a huge chip on my shoulder.  All I ever wanted was someone to believe in what I believe.  I am only me.  I cannot be anyone else.  Everyone wants to change me.... but can't I just stay me?  I have some baggage.... who doesn't?  It is so easy for us to accept our own baggage but want nothing to do with someone else's.  We want things shiny and pretty and easy with little work involved and few emotions felt.  We want things assumed and not talked about.  Who needs communication when we should just expect the other to read our minds and know what we think?  Who needs trust when it is much easier to build up our walls and keep everyone at bay with our emotional parasols? 

     Twelve is better than one. 
     They tell me to wait, someone is out there. 
     Excuse me, I think the record is skipping again. 
     They tell me to get out and make it happen.
     I've tried that, you led me on, and then you disappeared.
     They tell me to move forward, be strong and keep a stiff upper lip.
     How's the weather over there in cliche central?

     Twelve is better than one.... except for one reason.

     Eventually that twelve is going to run out and the hurt will return.... over and over again.
    

     Xanga is not good for my ADD.  I don't know where to find things, I jump from blog to blog and I am losing braincells by the second.  Oh well, who needs brain cells these days eh?  Ahh, my ADD.  Combined with this aweful habit I have of procrastinating, I am a piece of work.  I keep forgetting what I have to put off doing.  I have a hard time concentrating on one subject for too long and oh hey look I found a quarter!  If I am watching a movie or a football game, I completely zone out.  You could tell me the house was on fire and I'd probably just nod and not even hear a damn thing.  ADD does make me a helluva multi-tasker just because I cannot stay focused on one thing at a time except for the aforementioned football games.  My ex-wife hated my ADD moments.   At her request, I began to take medication for it but had to go off when I started taking medication for depression stemming from the problems in our marriage.
     According to my ex-wife, my having ADD is the reason my oldest daughter has Asperger's Syndrome, a form of Autism.  She constantly threw this twaddle around.  Neither one has anything to do with the other, but Broadzilla loved making a constant comparison to make me feel like shit.  My nine-year old daughter takes more medication for her Asperger's than my parent's take combined for their hearts and I often wonder if it is overkill.  My daughter has a hard time being sociable and cannot deal with any kind of adversity.  She is hell-bent set in her scheduling and if one thing goes off-kilter, she gets very loud and agitated.  I feel so badly for her.   I see a lot of myself in my oldest daughter.  It is hard to deal with her behavior sometimes, but I would not want it any other way.  
     I hope to be on Xanga for a long time and to figure out how it works sooner or later for the sake of my ADD and my rapidly disappearing brain cells.   

I wonder often if I could have saved my marriage if I was a better man.

Granted, she left me for someone and put me through hell with the seperation and divorce, but I still wonder if there was anything I could have done.

Could I have been a better husband, a better father, a better man?

My ex-wife was not a warm person.  I had a very difficult time talking to her and being close to her.  This always bothered me, but her reply was always the same.  "I'm not that type of person.  It makes me feel uncomfortable."   I tried just about everything.  I tried to talk to her.  I tried to get us to spend our own time together.  I tried to show her I loved her.  I listened to the same excuses over and over again.  "I don't feel well." *** "We cannot afford a babysitter" *** "Well, anything I say is wrong."  *** "I'm tired, I don't feel like it."   I began to feel like nothing more than an inconvenient convenience.  Money was never an issue because I had a good job.  She was happy on payday.  The other 28 days of the month I felt in the way.

I felt alone during my marriage.   I needed to feel loved.  I needed to feel appreciated.  When we went somewhere in public, she always walked ahead of me and never would hold my hand.  I grew jealous of any happy couple I saw and cursed them under my breath.  After a while, I got tired of trying.  Relationships aren't a one-way street.  I was fed up with the constant rejection, the constant cold shoulder.  I pulled back.  The marriage continued to spiral.  Depression hit me and I never felt more alone in my life.    Ironically, she began to warn me that if I did not start showing her attention, she would find someone who would.  I reminded her how she had been acting towards me.  Why did I need to show her attention if she refused to do the same?  She blamed her shortcomings on me.  She was this way because I did such-and such.   Our marriage turned into a stalemate.  I refused to budge because she gave me no reason to in the past.  She refused to budge because then it would make her look to be in the wrong.  Marriage counselors never helped.  She threw everything onto my shoulders and took no blame. 

I am far from perfect.  I made mistakes, we all do.  She never let them down, even years after the fact.  I could not get close to my own wife.

Perhaps I should have budged.  Should I have begged her for the love I needed so badly?  After years of being in the cold and feeling alone, should I have set myself up for the possible re-occurance if I were to try again and try harder?  I was confused, depressed and lonely.  She put me out of the bedroom onto the couch and began partying on the weekends with her friends. 

Then, she met him and I was history.

Could I have tried harder?  I attempted to reconcile.  I had chosen a new wedding ring for her and told her best friend about re-proposing and renewing our vows and getting a fresh start.  My ex agreed to go out one night to dinner and talk about a reconciliation, but all she did was talk about how much she liked this new guy and how she didn't know if they could be just friends.  Two months later, she told me she had no intention whatsoever of reconciling.  I told her what I told her friend about having picked out a ring and wanting to propose again.  To this day, her friend denies I ever had that conversation wtih her.

For over two years, I have tried to be a better person.  Because of the lack of closeness wtih my wife, I have tried to establish communication and friendship and trust first.  I see the world isn't like that anymore.  Those who have been hurt are too afraid to face feelings.  We bury our heads in the sand like ostriches rather than face our own emotions and needs.  No one wants to face this.  The single life is too fun and too rewarding to let anything deep and meaningful get in the way.  We'd rather take a dive instead of a chance.    We are so damn afraid of our own feelings that we pull back and overanalyze everything anyone says and then self-debate ourselves right out of the picture.  Hey... I'm just as guilty.  Everyone does it.  No one is immune.  It doesn't matter how it affects anyone as long as we still have our safety net in place.

After two dates with my high school ex (HSX) it has happened yet again.  Over two weeks have passed with unanswered emails and unanswered phone calls.    I honestly think she's torn between what to do and has pulled the disappearing act in order to avoid having to do anything.  I have grown used to it, so i shrug my shoulders and just move on.

I miss my old life.   My ex wife is definately a piece of work, but I still miss her.  I am slowly getting used to him answering the phone when I call for my children.

When I am alone at night, I wonder often...... Could I have saved my marriage?