Brian
Well-known member
I started typing this in another thread, and it just turned in to something totally unrelated. I didn't want to hijack the post and say "Hey, ignore them and look at Brian, Brian's sad", so I chopped it off here and kept on writing. Turns out I needed to, because this ain't really been that great of a week. And I have a feeling things are just getting started. Come December 31st, I think I'm going to look back at this week, and it'll just be a comma in the story of my year. A comparable lull in the shitiness; or perhaps it'll be the introduction setting the tone for the rest of the story. Either way, Forum, you and I need to talk, because it's been a while. I'm just gonna jump right in to my griping.
I wish I could get on with another fire department, or find some other decent job I'd be happy at. I'd move out of this station, buy a house somewhere decently secluded (I'd have one of those 'Trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again' signs posted), and I'd just spend all my off time at home or on the lake and never go to school again, and I wouldn't have to be bothered by this honeysuckle anymore. I could come home from work and deal with depression and anxiety and loneliness how I see fit (re: cry myself to sleep, blast my metal and alt. rock, stay in bed late and watch movies all day and have a few glasses of wine, or a little nyquil to sleep more because really, who cares), and that would be that. And I'd just be honest as all hell with my work buddies: I spend every free minute at home or on my boat and there's nothing you're gonna do to make me change that. And eventually they'd stop trying and everything would be fine and I could just work until I die or the zombie apocalypse/Ragnarok comes. And it'd be fine, because I've lived like that for several years before these last few months happened, and I think as long as I had financial stability I could dedicate the rest of my energies to dealing with everything else. I could learn to love it, even. I'm just...I'm almost tired of trying. This close. To quote a Johnathon Coulton song:
"I quit, I'm done; 'Cause I don't think it's gonna turn out okay. Its no fair, it's no fun; if every time it's gonna end the same way. Me, zero; Big Bad World, one."
You know, that path is even open to me, almost, if I take the upcoming custodial position at the school. What's it really matter if I'm a firefighter or a janitor? It only lasts until we die, and that really doesn't take very long. As a janitor at least I'd be exposed to less carcinogens and be less likely to die of a heart attack...honestly my prefered 'natural' cause of death is a brain aneurysm. Everything else seems exquisitely painful. But they lie when they tell you people die 'peacefully' from 'natural causes'...'natural causes' comprises everything besides accidents, homicides, suicides, poisonings, or (arguably) disease. You don't just die for no reason. Heart failure, aneurysms/hemmorhages, respiratory failure, stroke. These are all 'natural causes'...we die because something stops working. I think the brain aneurysm would be the fastest and most painless. I would say my ideal death is a quick one in the line of duty, dying on my feet. But that would likely have to include someone going with me since we go in as a team, and I would never wish that. But I wouldn't mind a spot on the memorial in Maryland, and at least they would say I died fighting instead of rotting away in bed. Most of all, I think that appeals to me because I wouldn't have time to consider my pains and regrets. I don't necesarilly want to die, as much as I think about the end sometimes. There have been ocassions I wished for it...though I've never come close to suicide, and at this point in my life I can at least say it seems very distasteful to me.
It's odd to me that I consider my death more frequently and with greater ease than I do my wedding. One is inevitable, perhaps, while the other is unlikely. The only constant present in that train of thought when it comes through is that my fire family is always there to congratulate me. Jamie, and Nick, the Chief, and Asst. Chief Hatfield. And my partner Dale, who I used to work with. He's there with that snarky smile of his, that one where you know he's got some smart-ass comment but you can tell it's because you're his friend. He's there, coming out of nowhere, telling me it's about time I manned up and talked to a girl. And I haven't seen him in forever, so I make like I'm gonna hug him just to pull his chain, and he calls me a ************ and threatens like he's gonna punch me if I do, and then we visit and catch up on eachother.
John is there too, I think, in spirit. It was a sad day when we buried him. Our badges stayed covered the entire week, and the flag flew at half-mast till the end of that cold February.
In retrospect, we'll probably bury Chief within the next ten years, as much as I dread that day. He's like the grandpa I never had. He always jokes about me needing to find a woman, but he said to me with complete earnest once, "Brian, what you lose now...you never gain." It saddens me that he might not live to see me actually have a partner. It saddens me that if someone special should ever come in to my life, I won't be able to introduce her to him. It makes me cry to think that he most likely won't be there to tease her about getting stuck with a guy like me.
But I think the real reason he won't be there for that day, is that it probably will never come. I feel like I'm getting worse before I get better in terms of anxiety and trouble with girls. A year ago I was working myself up to try and talk to some of the girls in my classes at college. This past week, I've tried. I'll keep trying, I guess, because I'm stubborn and don't take hints well, but I don't think anything's going to change. No matter how much I might like somebody for whatever reason, it seems the fact still stands that they're more or less content within their own social world, at least in any aspect that I would affect. They have plenty of people to talk to and one more would probably just be work. I doubt anyone in any of my classes would even want to study with me. A good portion have known eachother since highschool; the rest know eachother from other classes, apparently some ritual I missed entirely. Anyone not in those two categories is in and out of there too fast to talk to.
This was probably pretty depressing and I thank anyone who read it all. I'm not looking for pity, but I really needed to share some of this and get it off my chest. It's kept me from studying the entire evening, actually, for a subject I might actually enjoy now that this is out and aired.
I remember New Years Eve, earlier this winter as the year changed over. It was bitter cold out and unemployment loomed...I was actually at work, at the time. But I remember telling myself, with as much built-up honesty as I could muster, that this year would be better than the last and that this was the year at least something would change, that I wouldn't dread going out this Spring/Summer because I'd have someone to go out with.
It's not over yet, but I can say with fair certainty that I was definitely thinking of the wrong year. By all rights, I can't think of anything that would make up for what's happened so far, as on top of dealing with the, frankly, traumatic death of a brother, I lost the only thing I really enjoyed...and the only thing really defining in my life: My job. Yeah, I definitely wasn't thinking about this year.
I just hope I wasn't thinking of the wrong life.
Lots of love, to the only people I can talk about this with,
--Brian
I wish I could get on with another fire department, or find some other decent job I'd be happy at. I'd move out of this station, buy a house somewhere decently secluded (I'd have one of those 'Trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again' signs posted), and I'd just spend all my off time at home or on the lake and never go to school again, and I wouldn't have to be bothered by this honeysuckle anymore. I could come home from work and deal with depression and anxiety and loneliness how I see fit (re: cry myself to sleep, blast my metal and alt. rock, stay in bed late and watch movies all day and have a few glasses of wine, or a little nyquil to sleep more because really, who cares), and that would be that. And I'd just be honest as all hell with my work buddies: I spend every free minute at home or on my boat and there's nothing you're gonna do to make me change that. And eventually they'd stop trying and everything would be fine and I could just work until I die or the zombie apocalypse/Ragnarok comes. And it'd be fine, because I've lived like that for several years before these last few months happened, and I think as long as I had financial stability I could dedicate the rest of my energies to dealing with everything else. I could learn to love it, even. I'm just...I'm almost tired of trying. This close. To quote a Johnathon Coulton song:
"I quit, I'm done; 'Cause I don't think it's gonna turn out okay. Its no fair, it's no fun; if every time it's gonna end the same way. Me, zero; Big Bad World, one."
You know, that path is even open to me, almost, if I take the upcoming custodial position at the school. What's it really matter if I'm a firefighter or a janitor? It only lasts until we die, and that really doesn't take very long. As a janitor at least I'd be exposed to less carcinogens and be less likely to die of a heart attack...honestly my prefered 'natural' cause of death is a brain aneurysm. Everything else seems exquisitely painful. But they lie when they tell you people die 'peacefully' from 'natural causes'...'natural causes' comprises everything besides accidents, homicides, suicides, poisonings, or (arguably) disease. You don't just die for no reason. Heart failure, aneurysms/hemmorhages, respiratory failure, stroke. These are all 'natural causes'...we die because something stops working. I think the brain aneurysm would be the fastest and most painless. I would say my ideal death is a quick one in the line of duty, dying on my feet. But that would likely have to include someone going with me since we go in as a team, and I would never wish that. But I wouldn't mind a spot on the memorial in Maryland, and at least they would say I died fighting instead of rotting away in bed. Most of all, I think that appeals to me because I wouldn't have time to consider my pains and regrets. I don't necesarilly want to die, as much as I think about the end sometimes. There have been ocassions I wished for it...though I've never come close to suicide, and at this point in my life I can at least say it seems very distasteful to me.
It's odd to me that I consider my death more frequently and with greater ease than I do my wedding. One is inevitable, perhaps, while the other is unlikely. The only constant present in that train of thought when it comes through is that my fire family is always there to congratulate me. Jamie, and Nick, the Chief, and Asst. Chief Hatfield. And my partner Dale, who I used to work with. He's there with that snarky smile of his, that one where you know he's got some smart-ass comment but you can tell it's because you're his friend. He's there, coming out of nowhere, telling me it's about time I manned up and talked to a girl. And I haven't seen him in forever, so I make like I'm gonna hug him just to pull his chain, and he calls me a ************ and threatens like he's gonna punch me if I do, and then we visit and catch up on eachother.
John is there too, I think, in spirit. It was a sad day when we buried him. Our badges stayed covered the entire week, and the flag flew at half-mast till the end of that cold February.
In retrospect, we'll probably bury Chief within the next ten years, as much as I dread that day. He's like the grandpa I never had. He always jokes about me needing to find a woman, but he said to me with complete earnest once, "Brian, what you lose now...you never gain." It saddens me that he might not live to see me actually have a partner. It saddens me that if someone special should ever come in to my life, I won't be able to introduce her to him. It makes me cry to think that he most likely won't be there to tease her about getting stuck with a guy like me.
But I think the real reason he won't be there for that day, is that it probably will never come. I feel like I'm getting worse before I get better in terms of anxiety and trouble with girls. A year ago I was working myself up to try and talk to some of the girls in my classes at college. This past week, I've tried. I'll keep trying, I guess, because I'm stubborn and don't take hints well, but I don't think anything's going to change. No matter how much I might like somebody for whatever reason, it seems the fact still stands that they're more or less content within their own social world, at least in any aspect that I would affect. They have plenty of people to talk to and one more would probably just be work. I doubt anyone in any of my classes would even want to study with me. A good portion have known eachother since highschool; the rest know eachother from other classes, apparently some ritual I missed entirely. Anyone not in those two categories is in and out of there too fast to talk to.
This was probably pretty depressing and I thank anyone who read it all. I'm not looking for pity, but I really needed to share some of this and get it off my chest. It's kept me from studying the entire evening, actually, for a subject I might actually enjoy now that this is out and aired.
I remember New Years Eve, earlier this winter as the year changed over. It was bitter cold out and unemployment loomed...I was actually at work, at the time. But I remember telling myself, with as much built-up honesty as I could muster, that this year would be better than the last and that this was the year at least something would change, that I wouldn't dread going out this Spring/Summer because I'd have someone to go out with.
It's not over yet, but I can say with fair certainty that I was definitely thinking of the wrong year. By all rights, I can't think of anything that would make up for what's happened so far, as on top of dealing with the, frankly, traumatic death of a brother, I lost the only thing I really enjoyed...and the only thing really defining in my life: My job. Yeah, I definitely wasn't thinking about this year.
I just hope I wasn't thinking of the wrong life.
Lots of love, to the only people I can talk about this with,
--Brian