So, What’s it Gonna Take?

I think it is only fair to say this before I start this entry. And, so . . .
Before I go forwards, I recognize that I go forward because I have to.

I have to recognize the reason why I get up and out of bed in the morning. And more, I have to say this before I start this entry because the fact is I am no better or different from anyone else.
I have a life to face and bouts to contend with.
I have bills to pay and the pile is thick and deep.
I am not so special.
I’m the same as anyone else.

I have reasons to cheer and reasons to weep. I might not have as much as others, but to some people, I have more than they do, and from someone’s perspective, it might seem like I have more than anyone else. But I don’t.

My old fried Hank used to tell me a lot of things. I miss Hank.
He used to say that some people live with Park Avenue problems, and some people have park bench problems.
He would explain the reason behind this is because some people live on Park Avenue. Some people live in mansions or high-priced apartments. Some people complain about their luxury problems and meanwhile, some live on park benches and face problems that are unthinkable.
I think this is a good way to keep our problems in their perspective places.

As for me, I do not live on Park Avenue. Not by any means.
I do not live on a park bench either.
I suppose my intention here is to accentuate the difference between the two kinds of problems.
At the same time, and before I get started, I go forward with my journal entries because I have to.

And yes, I get laughed at.
I’ve been put down.
I am told that my content is awful.
In fact –
I once had a literary agent yell at me for about 10 -15 minutes on the phone.
This was a trip, to say the least.
I never thought that anyone would speak to me like this, at least not as a grown man.

The agent was angry that I wasted his time. But somehow, I think he was more angry that I didn’t know who he was by name or how important he is.
The agent insulted my accent and told me that I had some nerve to call him.
“Where the hell are you from anyway,” he asked.
I explained the name of my friend who gave me his number.
The agent was silent because he realized the connection.
The agent was still arrogant, but slightly less cruel.
He told me not to lose hope but, in all fairness, he said that I should find a better hobby for myself.
The agent also told me that I should read up on him and that I should learn about who I’m calling before I get on the phone with them

Yes, I get emails that come with insults.
I get emails from the grammar police.
I have all the reasons I need to quit.
But I don’t.

I write this to you as a means to keep going.
I write this because I have to.
I offer this as a truce between me and those who oppose me.
But also, I write this with hopes it finds you when you need this most, and whenever, if ever, I hope this rings with truth that we both have to get up and keep going.

We have to keep moving ahead.
Understand?

I have to get up and out of bed in the morning. I have to get to work on time and despite the life around me, I have to show up.
This is just a simple fact.
Like it or not.

I have to face the music and pay for my ticket to see what happens next. But more, I am here to pay for my seat and find out more about this so-called resurrection.
And I do this no matter what.
Salvation or no salvation, redemption or no redemption.
I have to show up.

Of course, I am human.
I come with all the bells and whistles, the same as anybody else.
I am the same as any other run-of-the-mill person.

I am as normal as any other regular, or garden variety, dysfunctional human being. My Friend Dangerous Dan the Marathon Man used to tell me that some people are sicker than others. Then he would point at me and say, “kid, you are definitely one of the some!”
But he meant this endearingly, at least I think so.

I say this with humor.
But I also say this to hopefully normalize that life is far from simple.
I say this to humanize the fact that we all have something to deal with.
Everyone is recovering from something — and so, if at all, I say this to offer a moment of kindness to those who believe that life is too filled with unkind things.

I say this fairly and honestly. Lastly, I say what I say and write what I write because mental health is important to me.
Some days are not easy to get through. Some days are better than others.
But some days are harder than we care to admit.
I know this.
And so do you.

Life might not always be filled with good times or happy places. But I say this with all certainty, and I say this despite my times of sadness or uncertain times. Life is a beautiful thing.
The world is a beautiful place and there are beautiful people everywhere. For the record, beauty comes in all styles, shapes, and sizes.
Beauty can even come from ugly places. I know this is a contradiction to say the least.
But I say this to recognize that there is always something beautiful to see — we just have to look a little longer sometimes and try a little harder to see clearly.

And so, with that being said, I think it’s time that I move on with this entry.
I am about to do something that is overdue.
And when I say overdue, I mean long overdue.

I remember when I was tasked with the chore to write a goodbye letter. I was told to say goodbye to whatever it is (or was) that I wanted to say goodbye to.
Now is a good time for this.
Now is a good time to say goodbye to whatever it is I needed to let go of.

I have made this somewhat of “a thing” for myself.
For the record, yes, I agree that this is cathartic.
These goodbye letters are helpful.

I agree this can help us with closure or allow me the chance to separate me from my past.
I agree that while I have been writing them for more than a few decades now, I admit that I have had to say goodbye to the same things, more than once.
Yes, this is very personal. Perhaps this might read as sad or tragic, or that this will be far too much for anyone else to consume.
At the same time, this is my letter.
And since this is my letter, this means the goodbyes in this journal entry belong to me.
And, so, here we go. . .

Goodbye to the yesterdays that hurt me.
Goodbye to the people who had no business in my life.
Goodbye to the characters in my head, whom I kept alive and thriving even when this hurt me at my own expense.
Goodbye to the people I had hurt and goodbye to those who I did not deserve, nor did they deserve what I put them through. I apologize for my part.
I really do.

Goodbye to the arguments in my head.
I have to say goodbye to them because these are part of the thigs that keep me up at night.

Goodbye to reliving the old fights that happened all too long ago, yet for some reason, I kept interacting with them, or disturbing the wounds and battle scars. I see how this is wasteful.
Interacting with old fights in my head is the same as picking the scabs to make myself bleed again.
Besides, Mom always told me you can’t heal if you keep picking at your scabs.
And since Mom is always right, I think it’s time to stop picking at them.

Goodbye to the constant need for acceptance.
Life is meant to be lived. I can’t wait around for a pat on my head, like a good boy, or a good dog who remembered not to pee on the carpet.

Goodbye to the love I lost.
This was my fault.
And goodbye to the endings of things that needed to end, and no matter what or why, goodbye and good health.
I say goodbye, but I do not say good riddance.

I will not say this because good riddance rolls with an energy of hate, and one thing I’ve learned is hate can be deadly when lost from moderation.
Speaking of which, goodbye to hate because hate has done nothing for me.
Hate has done nothing except dig me into a hole, deeper and deeper.

Goodbye to the need to be heard and acknowledged.
Goodbye to the need for attention or have it all about me.
Goodbye to my selfish, self-centered bullshit and more than anything, goodbye to my narcissistic nonsense and the immature need to “be right” or have the last word.

None of this has done anything good for me.
None of this has been helpful and in the end, all of the above has left me isolated.
Life like this can put me in a corner, or more accurately, none of the above goodbyes has done anything more than place me in a state of sad isolation — and leaves me resentful.

Goodbye to you too, my long list of resentments.
Goodbye to the old memories that spin me around and reopen the heartaches or cause me to hate myself.
Goodbye to old betrayals.
Goodbye to the betrayals that I have committed.
Or like it was said by Henry David Thoreau when he wrote The Civil Duty of Disobedience.
Thoreau said, “What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself to the wrongs which I condemn.”
And yes, I am guilty of the above.
I am guilty as charged. I am guilty of lying.
I am guilty of leaving. I am guilty of hurting good people.
I am guilty offering myself to people who did not deserve my attention.
I am guilty of abandoning loved ones and making them strangers and enemies.
I am guilty of all the above and more, I am guilty of lending myself to the evils and the wrongs which I rage about and condemn with all of my heart.

And so, I say goodbye to this.
Goodbye to my regrettable yesterdays.
Goodbye to the things I cannot change and cowardness that stops me from changing the things I can.

Goodbye to the fights and the arguments that are both irreversible and unalterable.
Goodbye to the insults and to the bullies from my yesterday.
There is no going back.
Whatever could have happened is what did happen.
This means acceptance of what was is the only way that I can change what is.
To go forward, saying goodbye is not an admission or symbol of guilt or loss.
No, my surrender is nothing other than a position to let go.
I want to look ahead and move to the next station in my life.

Goodbye to my need for the last word.
Goodbye to the insults that come from this. And goodbye to the insults that hurt me. While I never admitted this or showed my pain, the truth is words cut deep. And so, equally, I was wounded and cut and bled for way too long. 
So, goodbye to this as well.
Goodbye to the idea that I have to be right or that I can’t be wrong.
This is pointless.
And so, goodbye to the idea that I must win in these bullshit, verbal debates.

Goodbye to the insomniac who thinks way too much at nighttime.
Goodbye to the anxious nights I’ve spent while gazing up at the ceiling of my little place.
The rest of the world sleeps, but me?
I am lost in problematic thoughts and catastrophizing my own life.
Goodbye to this too.
Goodbye to allowing my thoughts to degrade my self-esteem.

Goodbye to you, the old friends who I failed or never kept in touch with.
Goodbye to the kids whom I felt so strongly for, and to those who never had a chance, or a true father figure to stand by them.
I say goodbye to you, but know this, regardless of the way things ended, I want to say this out loud and be clear — there is absolutely nothing wrong with you.
Stay you. Be who you are because while our interactions have ended, this was an adult problem.
Not yours.
This had nothing to do with you.
And as for the special child –
You are far more beautiful than you believe.
You are the best part of two parents who had a struggle. I say this because I am just as guilty, just as wrong, and equally as responsible for your sadness and the worries that you are (or were) abandoned.
What seems to be true is not always true.

You were not abandoned at all. But more, you were more of a casualty from an emotional warfare that turned sour and rotten. This happens in adulthood.
But who am I kidding?
Sometimes adults are more childish than the kids I met back in grade school.

So, please, don’t let this define you or hurt you more.
Never let this become your identity because in fairness to you and your heart — none of this was your fault.

Goodbye to this too.
Goodbye to the emotionally driven guilt.
Goodbye to the shames that plague me, or you, or us, combined.

Goodbye to the future I cannot have anymore.
Goodbye to the past which determined the future I cannot have anymore.

Goodbye to the thoughts, and the assumptions, and the emotions that react to problems we faced in the past.
In all honesty, I wish my past and the people from my past the best.
Go and be well.

I wish them the kind of happiness that is beyond compare. I wish their dreams will all come true—except of course, if their dreams are dreams of my demise—but even still, I wish them all the best because perhaps I deserve their hatred, but no one in the world deserves mine.
In fact, my wish for those who hate me is that I become so forgettable that my name loses the taste of contempt in their mouth.
My hope for them is that the rage they feel for me allows the fire to die down, and douse with feeling of peace.
And so, to this, I say goodbye to this as well.

Goodbye to the misdirected anger and goodbye to the wrongful accusations, and goodbye to the anger I have that causes me to snap at the people who are (or were) close to me.

Goodbye to last year.
Or better yet, goodbye to the years before last year and the years before them too.

Goodbye to old memories that I relive and rekindle the old flames of discontent.
Goodbye to the old conversations that cannot be changed or relitigated.
I say farewell because as hard as I try, I cannot change “what was.”
I have very little control over “what will be” so for now, let me handle “what is” and process what’s in front of me.
Let me do this without projecting or borrowing problems.
Let me do this without predicting that the future will always be at a state of unrest.
Let me get away from the regrets of things I cannot undo or unsay.

Goodbye to the old version of me.
Goodbye to the internal critic and to the inner voice that whispers louder than any scream.

Let me say goodbye to all of this so that I can say hello to the new and best possible version of me. Let me say hello to the dawn of new possibilities.
Hello to a better tomorrow.
Hello peace.
Hello hope.
Hello Destiny.
I am pleased to make your acquaintance.

I am grateful.
In fact, I feel better because you and I came to an agreement to part ways here. And, as for those who I appreciate and for those who I love with all of my heart — and as for those who I hold dearly but we never speak or the breaks in our path has caused a divide that’s too large to repair — I am grateful for you as well because had it not been for this (or you) then I might not have been were I am right now.

It feels good to say goodbye.
It feels better to say goodbye to the things that weigh me down.
But even better, it feels promising and hopeful to say hello to the dreams and the ideas that set my course for the life I want to have.

“Point me at the sky and let it fly,” I say
(Thank you Pink Floyd)

Please accept this as a respectful farewell with a humble heart.
There are no more reasons to have bad blood or hard feelings.
Well, not for me anyway.

The rest of the world is free to hold their hatred, if they want to.
But me?
I’m finished with all the above.
I’m done.
Saying goodbye is not so tragic.
Not at all.
Besides, how can we say hello to our future if you never say goodbye to our past?

Good morning, Tomorrow.
But I think I’ll start with today first.

Thank you.