We are all members of the Human race and as one, I realize that we all have asperations, hopes, dreams and ideals that we strive to attain.  Some hope to become a doctor or achieve a high postion in society, yet others simply hope to have a house with a yard and money in the bank.  My hopes are quite simple compared to these really.  Hope is the one thing that has kept many a person alive in dark times, and is one of the few things that I still retain in the darkness that I dwell in.  A proverbial/metaphorical light that I can focus on.  It keeps me going even when times are tough.  It allows me to dream of a better day, for both me and my children. 

     Life is a hard experience especially in the cold wasteland where I live.  Happiness is a rarity as well, thats why it’s valued so much.  The experiences that I have gone through, while definitely not singular by any means, are quite scarring to say the least.  I have seen a few of my friends, commit suicide over the mere fact that they have lost their children.  No attention is given to these Men or the root problem of it all whatsoever.  My point in all this is that they lost their hope.  There was no point in going on for them anymore, so they chose the cold embrace of Death and its merciful release from the burden of Life.  I cling to my Hope, that one day this nightmare will all be over.  That one day, I will be able to talk to my Sons about their lives, and relate to them why I wasn’t there for them when they needed me.  I stubbornly refuse to let go of their memory, and in my mind they are still the children they were when I was ripped away from them and was forced to be a slave. 

     So many people take their children for granted.  All I have left is memories of little feet running around me, the constant laughter of my children, and precious moments that constantly flash through my mind.  Moments like when they first said my name and called me Da.  Moments when they told me they “wuved” me as I put them to bed.  These are the few things that keep me going.  Sometimes I wonder if women dangle out hope like they do our children,  to do just that, to keep us going so we can pay their bills for them.  Ahh well it is inevitable, a part of the human condition to hope as well as to hate.

     I don’t know what I will do if this moment occurs, but I do hope that, that moment in the future will happen.  Perhaps one day, I too will recieve a hug and hear the words “Father, I am home.”

-Strength and Honor-   

Oftentimes when I get off of work, I like to drink beer and lots of it. Sometimes I will go out and drink it, other times I will sit here and compose blogs, listen to music or read and do the same. Several of the commentors on my blog have asked me if this was the reason that I have ended up in the situation that I am in today. Others have asked me on occassion, “why do I drink so much”? Don’t I know that its “bad” for me? Don’t I know what it will do to me in the future? My answer is as it always has been,”Of course I do”. As to the why I will get to that.

Why I drink so much, is to keep my mind and body numb. I drink like this so I don’t have to remember that I have 2 kids out there that probably miss the hell out of me, and blame me for my absence. To be numb isn’t to be happy, however it is something that I desire. I desire to live without the burden of the emotions that rage within me. I desire the cold outlook that life requires of you when dealing with modern-day woman. Living with the conflicting emotions that occur when your children are stolen from you is mentally fatiguing to say the least. The feelings sadness, anger, rage, hopelessness, worthlessness, desperation, and grief that come with it are all-encompassing and total. It overwhelmed me then and still continues to this day. To have your children removed from your life, is like having your teeth pulled without anesthetic, it HURTS for a long time. It’s like having an arm amputated, it’s painful, its gone, sometimes it feels like its there, but it will never be the same again. Eventually you need something to kill the pain or the net result on your sanity will be detrimental.

When this first started, the pain that I felt from being separated from my kids, was accompanied with the knowledge that I would see them from time to time and that they would know who I am. They would know that I loved them very much. I knew in my mind that this wouldn’t last however people need something to hold on to in life and my children were one of the few things keeping me solvent and able to express emotions such as love and compassion. On the weekends I would drink a half-rack of beer, or go out to the bar with some friends and forget about it for awhile if I wasn’t seeing my children.

When my children were taken from me, things changed drastically and quite quickly. There was no compromise, no talking, no disscussion. One day they were here, the next they were in another state. The day I recieved that particular phone call, something snapped within me. I was tired of fighting over something that shouldn’t even be fought over. I was tired of the constant argument, when cooperation would have worked better for everyone. I was tired of the power-plays, and the complete hypocrisy of a system that refused to even recognize basic and fundamental human rights regarding men and their children.

I started drinking more and more in an effort to destroy the internal struggle inside of me. I started drinking on a daily basis. I drank to rid myself of the dreams that came at night. There were nights that all I desired was the fog that alcohol induced. Still I would wake with tears on my pillow and a stabbing pain in my chest. I wandered for a goodly time after that, in my mind that is, completely lost to the world. I managed to hold on to my job, and pay off my “child support” in the meantime. My mind was sodden with frustration, and confusion.

After a year or so of continuous heavy drinking and hard labor, my mind started to clear of the emotions that came with the separation. I started to realize that they weren’t coming back for a long time and I started to plan for my own future. I started to place 10% of what was left of my paycheck into a retirement fund. In short I choose to live at least for myself, in the hope that one day my children would return to me, and I would have a home to provide for them. My mindset changed, I went from a caring, outspoken, compassionate Man, to a person with a much colder and harsher outlook on life. I realized that several people were instrumental in keeping me from doing things that would result in my incarceration, or homelessness. I have given those people my trust, and whatever help they have desired that was within my power.

After all of this I have watched my children fade away from my life, I remain numb. To remain numb is still desirable for me. The sense of loss is still there, however when I look inside of myself, there is a thick wall between that loss and my daily life. Many have commented upon it, including family members. Not necessarily on how much alcohol that I consume, however that is remarked upon as well, but more on the mindset that I have attained. I simply don’t care. Whatever part of the human mind/soul that creates emotions/empathy is completely burnt-out. There is only so much you can do to a person and still expect them to have this aspect of their personality. I have my family, and friends and that is it. Women are regarded as complete non-entities anymore. Their opinions will recieve a polite nod as I go about my business. Their pleas for help recieve silence and dismissal, and their wants are disregarded as unimportant as mine were. This is a complete 180 from the person that I used to be.

I have had several relationships since then, and a few women that have claimed to “love” me and want to continue a meaningful relationship with me. I have tried and tried, but I simply cannot find a way to trust them, or care about them for that matter. They have become unimportant, and in the long run a severe risk. They are used, and thrown away much like I was. If they have money I take it and send them on their way, much like I was. Some have gotten angry, others have cried, still others have persisted, trying to break that wall. All have failed and I still don’t care. I don’t care about them, or their feelings anymore.