08.01.15 (Day 381)
There are two sides to every story of course and this blog is mine. Self-biased? Perhaps a little at times. Fictional? Although there is some of my fiction writing contained within this blog, the non-fiction stuff you really couldn’t make up. About me? It mostly is, although that’s not been the case lately. Recently my posts have been segments of my work in progress book and the non-fiction parts have been mainly about other people. One in particular is on my mind.
As I’ve mentioned to that person, there’s always someone worse off than you. Of course it’s a subjective matter and our own problems are always the worst for exactly that reason: they are our own problems. It’s one thing trying to help someone else with their problems and being able to walk away but you can’t walk away from your own problems. In any case, I don’t walk away. If I’ve said I’ll help someone, I’ll see it through. I’d be no good in the medical profession as I get too involved and would take my work home with me.
As well as their own problems, there may be another one with this particular person I’ve been trying to help and it could be an issue of my making. Without going into detail, I feared that we might be getting too close as I’d said some things which might have been construed as scary. It wasn’t my intention to frighten anyone; I was just testing the water to see if there were any feelings and at the same time trying to boost someone’s confidence; my own as well perhaps. It’s happened before. As it turned out, I was wrong but in making a false assumption, I may have proverbially shot myself in the foot and caused unintended offence. If that person is reading, I am truly sorry that I was so presumptuous. I didn’t mean to upset you and I read you wrongly. I’m still here to help if that help will be accepted and I really hope I’ve not ruined what we had.
Sometimes things are said in the heat of the moment and only with hindsight do you realise that you’ve said too much or that it could be seen as something more. The same goes for displays of affection. Sometimes we need to find out someone’s true feelings without being able to ask them directly. I blundered and was too blunt. Good intentions sometimes go awry.
Of all the things bothering me at the moment, that’s the one at the forefront of my mind because I’m afraid I may have spoiled a special friendship. If the lack of contact since then is down to me, I’m truly sorry but I meant no harm. I was just checking. There are two levels of being sorry: one is saying it and the other is meaning it. Meaning it, as in feeling so remorseful that you cry because you feel so sorry for the person you may have hurt. I didn’t mean to.
Sometimes I say things and they’re taken the wrong way. I always know what I’m saying, I always mean it and sometimes what I say is not what the person I’m saying it to wants to hear. But better to speak what I see as the truth than pussy foot around. I’m sometimes not polite and occasionally what I say can hurt. The truth does. I’ve been hurt plenty of times when people have spoken the truth about me. I do talk about people behind their backs to mutual friends but I will always tell the person I’ve been talking about what I said and explain why I said it to the mutual friend.
I fear I may also have upset the one I’ve referred to in the past as The Wife. She is now the ex-wife as she too appears to be using avoidance tactics. I’m not sure why but it was probably something I said. To be clear, this is not the ex-wife as in mother of my children but the one who may as well have been my wife because we were so close and spent so much time together. Not any more. She’s not even my clingy thingy at the moment.
I could do with my clingy thingy as she’s the nearest thing I have to a daughter as I can’t see my own. And here we lead into the other side and people having bigger problems than your own.
I try to help others, even if that sometimes backfires but to those who seem to have turned against me, I would point out that I have problems too. If something I’ve said has been taken in a way other than that in which it was intended, I’d like to tell the other side. I wouldn’t have intentionally upset anyone, so whatever I said must have been taken the wrong way.
Right now, I don’t belong anywhere. I’m made welcome where I’m staying but I don’t belong here. I’ve spent a year now trying to sort things out, get myself somewhere to live and restart my life. The battle goes on. I’m owed money in benefits, which is frustrating as that money would enable me to rent accommodation privately and not have to go through the disheartening process of bidding on council properties only to be leapfrogged by someone who’s seen as more needy. I am technically homeless and out on the street still but that’s not need enough.
There’s not a day go by when I don’t think of everything I had, lost and miss: my children most of all. My wife and our marital home; my later fiance and the beautiful flat we shared. The bachelor pad I had in Bexley: the one with the swimming pool; the life and friends I left in Bexley and Sidcup. My business, my family and my money. Lost the lot. And every day I think about it and it seems like every day I lose something more. I love all of the people I’ve done wrong by, even though they may not realise it or think it possible. There are no excuses nor mitigating circumstances in any of what I’ve done wrong; just regret. I carry the love I have and that’s a curse but I deserve it.
And if and when I get somewhere to live, it looks like I may have to give up everything I left in my last flat as my partner who still lives there won’t allow me in. I did wrong there and by her; everyone knows. So maybe I deserve to be denied my worldly goods. Maybe I’ve deserved the last year because of everything I’ve done wrong. I regret it all. Will I get a break one day? I’m despairing.
Most importantly there’s my kids. I’ve seen them once in the last eighteen months for about four hours. I have no means of contact with them and I’m missing them grow up; missing all of the things which a father should do with his children. But I deserve it?
I’m feeling sorry for myself. This is something I do rarely as usually I’m the one who supports others in need. Sometimes though, it’s me that needs support and occasionally an understanding that what are perceived as personal problems to some – although all consuming to them – are little compared to mine. Of course, there are many far worse off than me but to those who have relied on me, please try to see some perspective. Sometimes I don’t think straight. Often I’m extremely tired and occasionally I say things which I later regret, although my intentions were good at the time.
I don’t beg forgiveness of the past for I have done things which I would condone of others. I deserve the sentence which I seem to be serving and I accept it willingly. I do hope that anyone I may have inadvertantly upset recently though will see that there are two sides. Flip things over and listen the the B-side of the record, then maybe you can find it in yourself to see the other side, place things into perspective and move on; hopefully with me.
I only wish I could write the pages of my novel as quickly as I’ve written this. I can touch type at eighty words per minute but only when the material is flowing. This stream-of-consciousness stuff does indeed flow and it’s a good job I can type at that speed or I wouldn’t be able to keep up. This is messed-up writing though and the novel is much more joined-up. Still, one positive in my life is my writing: the third in the Paradox series of short stories has been accepted for publication – this Sunday – and I’m about to start on chapter sixteen of The Paradoxicon. It’s flowing well and I know where it’s going but writing at that level is a whole different ball park, let alone ball game. Every word has to count, have it’s place and support its neighbours on either side. It’s tricky but I’m getting there.
Much like in life. I just need support sometimes.