Absence, Part 1 of 2

First off, what I write in this are my own personal feelings, reflections, lessons, mistakes, etc. and are from my viewpoint as I interpret them. Putting these out into an open forum means that they are subject to argument, agreement, as well as opinions of others.  That is not what this is about, I am writing this because I want to.  I am writing this that maybe there is someone out there who is going through the exact same thing I am and can relate to my story, but does not know how to do the hardest thing in life: taking that first step forward.  I am writing this in hopes that someone will stumble across my thoughts and use the lessons I have learned to become something greater than what they already are.  My mom, former teachers and professors, as well as friends have said that I have a way with words that they wish they had.  And so here I am writing my story.  With that, let us begin. 
     
      As some of you might have noticed, after almost a year of absence I decided to reactivate my social media websites.  I decided a year ago that I was going to rid myself of everything that was hurting my growth as an individual.  That in turn meant I needed to shut down my Facebook account, which left a lot of people in the dust.  The way I handled everything was beyond immature and I see that now, as compared to when I actually did shut it down.  A lesson learned, but not forgotten. 

      For me to be at the point I am now is nothing short of incredible.  It is amazing the difference things can make within a year of life.  Why do I say this, well because it is the truth.  This time last year I was in a downward spiral, heading further into a depression that I honestly saw no end to.  Everything I did felt right, yet I knew it was wrong and I had no self control over how I went about my actions.  I was so angry, so furious that things occurring all around me were fueling my depression.  Mom and Jim had even said they were fearful to leave for Alabama because of where I was going, the path that my life was headed down.  I was struggling with my feelings and my emotions, I was struggling with being a father, and I was struggling how to grasp the truth of the situation as it unfolded.  Being alone in my house did not help one iota, in fact if anything it compounded everything.  This continued over the summer and into the fall.  I was riding a serious hype train of extreme highs and extreme lows, my friends saw it, my family saw it, but I did not.  Looking back at it now, and the things people were saying to me, I was listening but it was truly in one ear out the other. As time marched forward, my thoughts became increasingly dark.  I was not me at all, I was a shell of my former self.  There was no laughter in my life, there was no joy or happiness.  I was just a husk of emptiness, partially filled with a feeling here and there when I was with Zeke. In October of last year, as with Menards, it finally happened that I reached the point where I needed help.  I had gone full tilt (the truth of that known to very few and will not be written about), and had a complete breakdown of my reality.  Everything came crashing in, everything that I had internalized, that I had tried to shove deep down roared out of me.  It was then that I made the smartest, and best decision of my life: I called mom.

     On the phone with Mom, I was at a loss for words, but I was able to say a phrase that I should have said back in March, "I need help".  Those three words, (I'm tearing up as I write this so bear with me), that phrase, I could not even say it when Dad had passed.  I could not say it when the relationship I had with Steph ended.  During those times I succumbed to my own inner demon: drinking.  I would spend countless nights in the bar, racking up tabs, buying drinks, doing shots, throwing darts, having all the fun so I could escape the abysmal reality which was around me.  I drank because it numbed the pain and made life bearable. I drank because it helped me escape from reality, it was easier to drown myself in spirits than it was to face my problems.  This time though, things were different.  Things were different because of one simple reason, Zeke.  My son needed me as much as I needed him.  And so I reached out to mom, "I need help" I said to her and "God finally answered my prayers," she replied.   By reaching out I did not realize the amazing and drastic change I was about to undertake in my life. 

Insert awesome cliffhanger, I'll write the second half of this later. Need a breather to collect my thoughts about Part 2.