Dealing with the Latest News and Social Media

This isn't about politics. 

I will not do that here. 

In recent days, I've been increasingly depressed.  I'm lashing out at people, getting angry over stupid shit, and starting arguments and picking fights online.  I've been having a harder and harder time controlling my anger, waking up grumpy, and ready to piss people off. 

In fact, I've been making people angry and then walking away, just to really rub salt in the frustration of it all. 

All this time I've been wondering what's wrong with me.  Why am I falling apart like this?  Where is this depression coming from?  And why am I waking up ready to shit on the entire world?  I realize now that's going on. 

Social media is full of posts about the latest issue to piss people off--children being separated from their families at the border.  The children are taken into custody and held there until family members who have already come to the US can be located, and told to come get these children.  Then, the kids are handed over to family members.  Parents who are divided from their kids are understandably upset and in one case, a man killed himself out of anguish. 

I lost my family because of US immigration laws.  The only thing I ever wanted in life--a family--was taken from me.  It destroyed me.  I'm still not over it and we're coming up on 18 years.  It is still raw for me to this day. 

The news being blasted on social media has ripped open these wounds for me.  I am reliving a lot of the emotions I endured when this first happened.  The horror of knowing your family is torn from you by a system that will not, and will never, show mercy or empathy.  Nobody cares. 

Because it's trendy now, social media is full of righteous outrage, and everybody is screaming about the children.  But that's okay, as I'm sure they'll move on to something more horrible later down the line, because there's always something more horrible.  This world is such a terrible place, and our species is so violent and sadistic, we can be assured that there will always be something worse in our future. 

There was no angry social media posts for me when I was dealing with Immigration fucking me over.  When I told people about how my wife would call me on the phone crying because she was worried about her safety, and how our daughter was so skinny because she couldn't afford much food, I would be met with a shrug of the shoulders and a "wow, that sucks." 

That was it.  Nobody gave a shit.  And there was nobody there to help me. 

I was going to sneak my family into the states through Mexico.  I got as far as speaking to Mexican workers who had made the trek several times, and I quickly realized how dangerous it was.  I was pretty much guaranteeing my family would be severely hurt, if not killed, and if they were arrested, I'd never see them again.  At the time, my daughter was a toddler, and it would have been pure hell on her. 

I also thought of making the Northern route.  There are passages through Canada into Idaho, Washington, and Minnesota we could have tried.  It would have been expensive, too arduous for my wife and daughter, and I would have risked serious consequences if caught.  In that area, it wasn't so much ICE as it was DEA agents, who would have instantly labeled me a drug runner despite not having any drugs on me at all, just because they knew they could pile on the charges. 

In my research, I had come across a story about that exact thing happening.  The guy didn't have any drugs on his at all, and he was with his wife and baby, hiking down a trail into the US.  They were caught by the DEA, and he was labeled a drug trafficker.  His wife was arrested and sent back to Thailand with their baby, and he was thrown in prison.  I've been searching Google for the link to that story, but it was about 17 years ago, pre-9/11, and I just can't find it. 

Just reading that story was enough for me.  I knew it would be a horrific risk and the odds were so far against it working, it was best not to even try.  Plus, I just didn't have the resources to try.

But here's the thing--I knew the risks.  I knew that if caught, my daughter would be divided from not only myself, but also my wife, and it would be traumatic for them both.  I knew it would be so horrific that I didn't even try it. 

With all of these news stories, I have been reliving all of the emotions I went through back then, and it has been difficult for me.  This never goes away.  It never leaves me.  I am always carrying the loss around and I can't get rid of it no matter what I try. 

The closest I have gotten to some kind of healing is realizing that with all of the things that went wrong, it's obvious to me Fate had plans for them, and those plans did not include me.  Fate needed them to be on their own, together, for whatever reason and whatever lessons.  This was not about me.  This was about the path they were supposed to walk, and Fate knew I would carry them as best as I could, so I had to be removed from their lives. 

You have no idea how painful it is to write those words.  But it has been the best way for me to deal with what I have lost.  This past weekend was Father's Day and it sucked.  I like to think I would have made a good dad to my daughter.  I try not to think about all of the horrific things that happen to girls who grow up without a dad.  When those thoughts do come around, I want to die, because that way I don't have to see the hurt and pain in my daughter's life. 

I'm trying to take a break from social media.  I'm trying to keep my mind clear of the bullshit.  Plus, I'm trying not to be angry at people.  But I'll admit there is a lot of anger there. 

But rest assured--there will be something even uglier in the press soon, and we can all move on to the next reason to be outraged. 

Anthony Bourdain and Calling it Quits

I'm not much for celebrities and I don't follow gossip pages.  But I adored Anthony Bourdain's work and looked up to him.  He was a late bloomer who moved forward into some amazing levels of achievement.  He and I had things in common and he was my hero.

Waking up to the news he committed suicide gutted me.  It was like the guy who spoke for me and at the same time educated me abandoned me.  He was the leader of us fucked up, depressed, addicted, empathic, sympathetic people.  And losing him gutted me.

Saturday was a rough fucking day.  I'm done trying to sugarcoat it and be nice.  I'm so done with everything.

Tony's death opened a conversation online about suicide and depression.  Online, on places like Twitter and Reddit, people opened up about their experiences and for the first time, people talked about what it's like when you're ready to go.  People are finally talking about what it's like for them when The End comes and they know it's time to go.

I found it to be something special.  I'm not sure if I'd call it liberating or comforting, but it was special and it meant a lot ot me.

There were a lot of people trying to figure out why Tony did it.  Or why Kate Spade did it.  Both of them hung themselves.  Everybody said they had everything.  As with any suicide, there are rumors, and nobody knows for sure.  To an outsider those rumors about this and that might seem like a small reason but you never know what it will be that finally pushes you over that edge.

It's like standing on a bridge made of woven straw.  You hear snaps and pops as bit by bit it disintegrates under your weight.  And then something happens and that's it--you're done.

For me, it's different.

I have tethers that keep me here.  Connections.  People.  Potentials.  I don't have dreams and I don't have hope.  It's the odds of something happening.  It's the odds that something will be here for me once I pull out of this nose-dive.  Maybe I'll have a heart attack tonight.  Or maybe a stroke.  Maybe my heart will finally give up trying to keep blood moving in this morbidly obese body and just stop.  Every day that I'm here, there is that chance, and I can't say I care much.

But what are the odds that even if I do crawl out of this pit I'm in that I'll figure out what I'm needing and find it?  Low.  Very low.  We're talking Las Vegas odds and as we all know, the House always wins.

But I know the Powers That Be aren't going to let me out of here so easily.  I know they want me to fight and earn some kind of happiness.  Nothing will be given.  No more tools will be offered.  No more hands of support will be sent.  I have what I need to move forward and it's all up to me now.

What holds me back is knowing how many times I've been down this path and had everything and everybody taken from me and I feel like I'm a sucker just for thinking about doing it again.

In my first day of First Grade, I had a Hot Wheels car in my pocket at school.  During recess, a kid wanted to see it.  I was a trusting sort, so I handed it over, and he threw it against the ground as hard as he could.  I picked it up and he asked to see it again.  I was a trusting sort and never knew this kind of behavior.  I gave it to him again and once again he smashed it into the ground.  My little toy car was all fucked up.

I feel like life is like that.  There's no guarantee that what we want is on the top of this mountain we're supposed to climb and I've climbed enough of them to know how worthless that journey can be.  I'm tired of feeling like the sucker who took the fool's bet.  Friends tell me it's not the destination but the journey and frankly it pisses me off.  I have no interest in that journey. 

I don't know why I'm still here.  I don't know why I even wake up in the morning.  I don't even know what I want.  I can't think of a single dream.

I exist and that's all I do.

And sometimes, I leave fingernail gouges in the dirt while I drift away.

I guess it's different for all of us.  I don't think it would be easier for anybody if  did it.  I know I'd hurt people and that tears me up.  I've had it done to me and I know what it's like.  I can't say I could do it to somebody else.  So that's a big tether that keeps me here.  I just watched a video of Chef Masa in Japan break down while talking about the loss of Anthony Bourdain.  It was heartbreaking.  And there are tons more videos like that of people who knew him and didn't know him breaking down because they were so devastated by his loss.

It's not about him.  It's about how somebody who had so much going for him took that option when so many of us are barely surviving with little to show for it and not much hope for anything more.  We're still here.  We're still waking up in the morning and putting one step forward at a time.  And this world is so awful.

Death sings the sweetest songs when the world is dark.

But I'm still here.  I don't know what to do to get beyond this but I'm working on it.  I wake up, I work, and sometimes I get the courage up to leave my apartment.  I did that yesterday but today just wasn't in the cards.  Tomorrow is another day.  And that sums it up in the end.  Tomorrow is another day and I'm not going to beat myself up because this one didn't amount to much.  I woke up, I worked, and I got through the day.  Sometimes it's the best we can hope for and it's the best we can do.

Sometimes, those are the nails dug into the dirt to keep us from drifting away into the darkness forever when there just aren't anymore tethers holding us here.  It's the best we've got and it works for another day.