Nightmares and Insights in Book Six: Trying to Hold On 2019

Today is Veteran’s Day. Which means it was an optional work day for me. Which is to say… it is supposed to be a day where I am not supposed to go to work; but my boss scheduled something for today so… I could go in but I wasn’t required to. Honestly, I had planned to go in. But then I had a nightmare so upsetting that I didn’t. I’m not proud to admit that. But it is the truth.

NIGHTMARE:
I was following up on a corruption investigation into our local police officers. Apparently, the allegation was that our officers were being paid per individual “forced” into a Residential Treatment Facility. That would be… very bad… as RTF placement should be for people who HAVE a drug addiction and WANT to get better. Not just “where we put people because we get kickbacks.” So, with makeup and costuming, I disguised myself as an average homeless bloke. Someone that could be a candidate for RTF but would need additional screening to make sure. The police never even addressed me. So, we scaled it back a bit more. I was a “teenager breaking curfew by walking his dog.” I thought that was insane… what police officer would arrest a kid and put them into rehab for THAT crime. Well, I was wrong. I was walking Nala and got arrested. Immediately sent to Rehab. No jail, no bond, no hearings. Just instantly sent to a Residential Treatment Facility. WITH the dog. No phone call. Throughout the dream, I’m given a tour of the facility and told the rules and I keep repeating “Will I get to keep my dog, will she be sent home, or will she be terminated?” I’m begging people to tell me. Finally, I get to the end of the tour and I’m told that the facility “doesn’t have the resources to house or re-home vermin” and Nala is literally ripped from my arms and thrown onto the street where she is killed by a semi-truck. In the dream I’m SCREAMING AND SOBBING and just repeating her name “NALA! NALA! NALA!” When I woke up… I honestly thought I’d been doing that IRL. Like… I had to check to make sure Wife hadn’t woken up because of my sobbing and screaming. I instantly went to Nala in her doggy bed and set up my own little nest so that I could sleep with her close by. The very idea… the memory… of seeing her thrown into the street with such callousness and then destroyed? Oh, that gutted me!! She may be annoying and problematic sometimes; but she doesn’t deserve THAT. She doesn’t deserve THAT.

So… after that? Another reality set in. My Wife is super upset about how much I’ve been drinking lately. And… sure… maybe she is right. But I really wanted to understand WHY I’ve been drinking so much more. And… the truth is simple, thus upsetting. I hate being simple. ALL of my sexual experiences are connected to Pornography. That’s certainly not my preference; but it is very much the truth. And growing up? I was pretty much told that having pornography in your life meant that you were an evil failure of a human being. Now, add to that the fact that I waited for my Wife in order to enjoy the pleasurable delights of sexuality and explore the vast world of carnal pleasure.... and her response to all of it is essentially “Ew, why?” I mean… is it any surprise why I’m drinking and depressed?? I mean… I passed up numerous opportunities in my lifetime in order to be THE Husband. But so far… I just… feel like a failure. Yeah, I’ve emotionally and financially supported my wife in a way that should make me feel like a successful husband. And I’m respecting her emotional and physical wishes; so AS A HUSBAND I’m actually NOT a failure. And I should embrace that. I’m doing PERFECT HUSBAND routine by being a Provider, supporting her emotionally, and respecting her physically. I am 100% being Perfect Husband. But that is actually the fucking problem. I bought into a world that included justice… but there is no real justice. The guy that goes out of his way to be PERFECT HUSBAND doesn’t get rewarded with PERFECT MARRIAGE. The guy that saves himself for his wife doesn’t get rewarded with SEXUAL RELATIONSHIP. The brutal truth is… I can be anything to anyone and I’m good at that. But I have never met someone that was able, willing, or capable of reciprocating that. You want me to be the superhero that listens to an 8 year old girl recite her violent, brutal sexual assault… and then win the day for her? GRANTED. You want me to be the kindhearted counselor that listens to a broken woman finally ask for help? GRANTED. You want me to be the guy that sacrifices his time to help others heal and grow as people? GRANTED. But… when that guy turns around and says, “Okay… who wants a romantic night on the town followed by a few hours of sexual exploration?” Everyone turns their back.

So… yeah. That is why I’m drinking more. I’m giving more of myself every day for everyone else. And all I ask is for someone I find attractive.... someone I care about… to find me attractive… to care about me. And, honestly, it is the very specific reason I wanted to get married before I went to Law School. I knew I was signing up for a job where I would deal with the worst of the worst in this world. And I wanted my home life to be squared away first. A home life where, no matter what I put up with at work, I could come home and find refuge. Well… certainly managed to fuck that up. Because I don’t have that. I can empty myself out entirely at work… come home… and, true, Wife doesn’t require anything from me. So, there are days where work drains me and my home life does NOT. But it certainly doesn’t help to fill me back up. So, at best… my reality is “At least home doesn’t kill you faster.” Is it really so selfish… so cruel… to want a home life where occasionally I’m filled back up?? Where my emotional, physical, or spiritual needs are supported, met, encouraged?

And honestly… before you rush to say “Oh, you aren’t asking too much” I would encourage you to analyze the world at large. Toxic Masculinity is fed by both men and women. Have you ever complimented the man in your life? Have you ever bought him a small token of your affection for no reason? Have you ever shown him affection without expecting something in return? Because truly… men are raised to believe that they are required to “care for their woman” but they aren’t raised to believe that a “woman should care for their man.” AND you can certainly argue that… but I want you to really understand the word choice there. CARE FOR. Not “serve.” Any ass can serve. If your man says, “Bitch, make me a sandwich” and you do… that isn’t “care for” that is “serve.” If your man comes home from a 15 hour day, and you have food waiting for him because you know he’ll be hungry? That is care for. If your man has a birthday, so you buy him a Sports Illustrated… that is serve. If you see something in a shop window that makes you think of your man, so you buy it and surprise him with it? That is care for.

And that is my current struggle. Honestly… as far as how I was raised? I do have the perfect marriage. Wife doesn’t cheat on me, she doesn’t seem to hate me, and we cooperate decently as far as keeping the house from falling apart. But I want more. I want a wife who genuinely openly cares about me. I want a wife who thinks that an honest, emotion-backed kiss should be an every WEEK ordeal; not an every MONTH ordeal. I want a wife who sees me, physically OR emotionally, and understands what I do and what I build… and wishes to have sex at least once a month or more… as opposed to once an EQUINOX.

What is my breaking point? If you haven’t asked that, you should. If you have asked that, I wouldn’t blame you. And the truth is… I need Mike. There is a man in my life whose opinion I respect above all. He is compassionate, realistic, spiritual, and kind. I have known him since I was 12 and he has always shown me the kind of intellectual respect that makes me care about his opinion. Because there are people in this world with whom you may feel “equal” to in spirituality, but not intellect.... intellectually, but not emotional.... emotionally, but nor spiritually. Mike… I find to be either my equal or my better in all categories. I have yet to specifically seek his advice. I can lie and say I have not sought his counsel because his flock is over 10,000 strong. I mean, it is a good enough excuse and it is factually accurate. He is a pastor at a Mega Church and I imagine he hast literally thousands of e-mails a day. But the truth is… I’ve known him for almost 25 years. I certainly hope that if I sought his council, he would offer it. Though… perhaps THAT is the fear that stops me. Not the fear of what his answer might be… but the fear that he would not answer at all. THAT would be… more disappointing than anything. If I sought his advice and he essentially did not answer or responded with “too busy”… that would be soul shattering. There are few men in the world that I can confidently say know more of the Bible, Psychology, Ethics, Philosophy, and Empathy than I… he is one of those very few men. If he didn’t have time for me, that would be devastating. I should reach out to him. BUT… as mentioned… there is a lot of fear. He could say, “Keep trying”; he could say, “Rest easy”; he could say, “You’ve tried enough”; or he could simply… never respond. And each and every one of those possibilities carries with it a giant life-impacting emotional weight.