The Madness of A Certain Shattered Soul

It's not every day that you wake up and wonder what you are doing with your life. This is the case for your average human being; we have enough on our plate as it is living day by day.

That said, I know it's been way too long since I last posted here; my most recent post was three years ago, a cross-post from my FB blog on the ramifications of abolishing religion altogether. That sentiment held true to me then, and it still holds true to me now: as a practical matter, the antitheist that wishes to see all religion eradicated from the face of the Earth is just another bunch of totalitarian bigots that can suffer no diversity of conscience. Such a person would definitely put the "Godless" in "Filthy Godless Commie Nazis."

Now if you're wondering why "Commie Nazis" instead of just Commies--and I know my inner Tailgunner Joe would have settled for the latter--I direct you to Thomas Stearns Eliot (1888-1965) who once said that "if you will not have God (and He is a jealous God), you should pay your respects to Hitler or Stalin." (Christianity and Culture, 1939--fitting, as Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia signed the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact that year on August 23rd) In other words, those who consciously reject God and denounce belief in Him as primitive, cultish, backwards, and practically anything your standard fedora-wearing neckbeard who by the standards of Eliezer Wiesel (1928-2016) would be on the same boat as the racist sunzabitches that put six million of his own people (and around five million others, lest they be forgotten) to their deaths--"All collective judgments are wrong. Only racists make them," after all--would be better off bowing down to no god but the State, with the champions of the Totalitarian Twins that are Communism and Fascism--if you really want to be pedantic, Stalinism and Nazism, respectively--as either Messenger.

Alas, I have digressed quite early in this post. A lot has passed in the three years since my last post: I fell in love, sired a bouncing baby boy, and had that relationship go south faster than Operation Mars. Two years, yet it felt like three.

Add my general instability vis-a-vis keeping a job for more than six months, and it all crashed down on me. Now I rarely get to see my son, and my quest to finding another job keeps coming out tails--I was so desperate that I didn't come home for four days just to find a job. In the end, my guilty conscience drove me back; I had failed, and that was that. All the money I had from my back pay wasted in a quixotic pursuit that ended with repeated denials. "Try again in three months," to me, meant that in their eyes, I was as good as a write-off.

Alas, what do you do when you find yourself hitting rock bottom? If you answered "go up," I can't say I blame you; it's what I'd say. In practice, though...with what might just be my whole world crashing down on me, all I can do now is wait for the proverbial hammer to fall on, and crush to a bloody pulp, me.

Yes, there is a part of me that cries out, even now, for it all to finally end, to ask the Powers That Be to finish me off, seeing myself as a complete failure of a son, a significant other, and a father. Problem was that if I had listened to that part, I wouldn't even be posting this right now; I would have died a long time ago, not having survived San Carlos at all.

I guess the part of me that pushes me to stay alive is still dragging my otherwise broken ass around, even when the part that has finally given up on me is kicking and screaming. Hellbent on making a breakthrough, the part pushing me to live is still awake, still reminding me that I have a son to look out for, that even if his mother and I are no longer together, ensuring that he has a bright future ahead of him is the least I could do.

I guess I really am not alone in this regard.