Tag Archives: health

Monday Night Ramblings

March 5, 2012 D.A. Adams 2 Comments

104_2043 — Part of the view in front of my place.

I’ve spent most of the today cleaning and organizing my place and sorting through and dealing with my emotions. Yeah, I know how to party like a rock star for Spring Break. In all seriousness, though, it’s been fairly therapeutic, and while some of the emotions haven’t been pleasant, I feel like it’s important for me to go through this process. From the bottom of my heart, I want to find a healthy place for me emotionally so that maybe one day I can have a positive, healthy, sustainable relationship, but before that can ever happen, I have to face some pain and let go of some anger.

In terms of my place, I made pretty good progress today. My clothes are organized, and much of the mess from repairing the roof is cleaned up. There’s still a lot to do to get it comfortable again, but any positive progress is good at this point. As soon as it warms up, I’m going to finish tarring the roof to make sure all the leaks are completely sealed, and then I’ll work on replacing the insulation that got damaged from the leaks. Once I’m finished, it’ll be a pretty cozy little writing haven. On the emotional side, that’s a different matter.

Let me say first and foremost, to all of the women from my past, please forgive me for my shortcomings as a human being. Any wrongs I may have committed — intentional or unintentional, real or imagined — were the product of my emotional immaturity. To those who knew me before my marriage, please forgive me for the worst of my immaturity. I was a dumb kid and pretty insecure and accept full responsibility for all of the flaws that were the folly of my youth. Please know that I’m a better man today than I was back then, and please know my apologies are sincere.

To my ex-wife, please forgive me for not being the man you needed. Forgive me for not finding financial success and for entering a profession that demanded so much of my time and attention. We weren’t meant to be as a couple, and I’m sorry it took us 12 years to figure that out. I wouldn’t change it because we created two beautiful sons, and they are the world to me, but you and I both know we never truly fit. I may never be able to forgive you fully for Christmas Morning, because that was cruel and malicious, but I’m trying to let go of the pain and anger to be a better man for my sons’ sakes.

To the women I’ve known after my marriage, please forgive me for being so scarred and damaged. I should’ve taken more time to heal. My one real regret in life is that I allowed the pain and loneliness of missing my children to rush me into searching for something to fill that void. It wasn’t fair to you or me, and I accept full responsibility for not being ready. Please know that I accept all the blame because I should have been alone, finding myself and repairing my emotional scars. I won’t repeat that mistake again and will remain alone for as long as is necessary.

To my friends, the ones who have been there through all of my turmoil these last five years, please know that I love you dearly. If I could ever find a relationship as strong and healthy as my friendships, I would be the most blessed man on this planet. You have picked me up from my lowest moments and stood by me through some pretty hard times, and I only hope I can repay you for all you have given me. Thank you for not giving up on me and for accepting me with all my flaws. Today was not easy, but I hope it was a step in the right direction for finding peace and stability in my life.

General Posts

Sunday Afternoon Ramblings

March 4, 2012 D.A. Adams 16 Comments

I’m no choir boy. I’ve kicked up my share of dust and had my share of fun, but I’m no derelict either. I’ve worked since I was about 10, starting out helping in my dad’s business. I’ve worked hard physical labor, delivered pizza, taught classes, written books, sold cars, and busted my ass to eke out a meager existence. None of it has been easy, and more times than I can count, I’ve thought about giving up and becoming a vagabond. But that’s not who I am. In my heart, I’m a warrior, and I’ll fight until my last breath to achieve my goals. There may be stronger, smarter, better-looking, more successful men than I am, but there aren’t many who are tougher. I’m not saying that to brag, just stating a fact about myself.

Last semester, I pushed myself through some of the hardest moments of my life and am proud that the only days I missed at work were those when I had doctors’ appointments. Once, I delivered pizza for a couple of weeks with a pulled calf muscle. Each step sent blinding pain up my leg, but my children needed a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, so I ignored the discomfort. I also took an 8 pound iron ball to the head and lived to tell about it. There are tougher men than I am, but it’s a small measure.

I’m no choir boy. I’ve done my share of living, but when I’ve given myself to a woman, I’ve not broken my word. There aren’t many men who can honestly say that. There aren’t many women either. If I commit to a relationship, I’m with that person and no one else. Again, I’m not bragging, just stating a simple truth of myself. When I’m single, I’ve broken a few hearts, but I don’t lie or lead anyone on, never offering more than I can live up to. I’m always honest about what I can and cannot give. At this point in my life, I don’t know if I’ll ever love again. Only time can answer that. Right now, I just want to heal and focus on my goals.

This place I live in is nothing to brag about. It’s old and dilapidated with few modern luxuries. The materialistic people in this world would turn their noses up at it and shun me as a bum, but it’s my little corner in this world and brings me peace. I can live without the comforts for that. I wrote most of Dorkhun in this broken-down motor home and will complete book four here, too. My life may not have the shiny facade most people try to build to show the world how great they are, but I’ve never really given a damn about the facade. I’m content with myself as a human being, and that’s enough for me. That’s not to say I don’t have lessons to learn and maturity to gain because I do, but at my core, I’m decent and can live with that.

I’ve learned to define success on my own terms. I’ll probably never be wealthy, the toast of the town, or a rock star, but those aren’t my goals. They may have been when I was young and immature, but now, I define my success by the quality of what I do. Every time a reader tells me they enjoyed one of my books, I’ve succeeded. Every time a student thanks me for giving them a solid foundation, I’ve succeeded. When I leave this earth, I’ll have left a mark, maybe not a huge mark, but a somewhat positive one. I may not be prince charming or a knight in shining armor or nice little choir boy, but I’m D.A. Adams, father, writer, educator, and friend. That’s enough for me.

General Posts

Tuesday Afternoon Ramblings

February 28, 2012 D.A. Adams 25 Comments

No offense intended to my female friends, and you’re more than welcome to read this post and chime in on this discussion, but this post is about being a man. I’m all for women’s rights and believe we’re all equal, but this post is about what it means to be a man in 2012, at least from my perspective. Part of this is my attempt to rediscover myself after a rocky ending to a once beautiful relationship; part is my venting over what I feel are blatant disrespects to my manhood; and part is my anger over the castration we face on a daily basis. Again, I respect women and realize you have your own set of obstacles, but this entry will contain moderate to high levels of testosterone, so consider that fair warning.

First and foremost, being a man in this age is maddening. We’re expected to temper and control millions of years of evolutionary hard-wiring in order to fit the contemporary mold of civilized behavior. Well, that’s not easy. For thousands of years our species has thrived in part because of this wiring, but now, we’re barbarians if we exhibit any signs of temper or anger. A thousand years ago, hell two hundred years ago, if someone cut a man off in traffic the way they do today, that man could’ve ripped out their fucking throat and left them for he vultures to pick apart. Genetically, I’m identical to the men of those times, but today, all I can do is give that asshole the finger and lay on my horn. The frustration of having to bridle back those old impulses is hard to describe. I hope other men know what I’m talking about and can weigh in on this because I don’t think I’m alone in feeling this frustration.

Also, you know what? I like meat, especially steak. It tastes really good. Do I like factory farming? No. Do I think all farms should allow free-range grazing and avoid pumping their animals full of hormones? Yes. But I like to eat meat because it’s delicious. I also happen to like salad because it tastes good to me, too. There’s not much better than a fresh salad with basil, olive oil, and vinegar. My point here is that often I’m made to feel like a Neanderthal for eating meat or a wimp for eating salad, but the simple fact is that it’s my body and my choice. I’ll eat what I want. End of discussion.

Then, there’s this whole thing about being sensitive and in touch with our feelings. I’m here to tell you that I’m about as sensitive, compassionate, and in touch with my emotions as a man can be, and do you know where it’s gotten me? The best I can tell, only heartbroken. The women I’ve mistakenly given my heart to haven’t taken good care of it. They’ve either played on my compassion and drained me dry or criticized me for what I’m not, instead of cherishing me for what I am. I don’t want to change my kindness or lose that connection to my own emotions, but I know that it will be hard to trust sharing those parts of myself intimately with anyone again because so far, that’s only gotten me hurt.

And what really pisses me off is this whole bullshit notion of romance. I’m sorry, but cards and flowers and little gifts are a ridiculous waste of money. I’d rather show my love by helping with the dishes or doing a load of laundry or cooking a nice supper. I know that’s not very romantic, but you know what? I work pretty fucking hard and don’t earn a whole lot of money in my profession, so I try to spend my money wisely. My idea of romance is sitting together on the sofa on Friday night and listening to good music. That’s about as romantic as I can get. Anything beyond that feels corny and cheesy to me. I’m a terrible dancer and don’t like crowds, so going out is more of a drain than anything. That’s just who I am, and if that’s not good enough, then I guess I’m not the right man for you.

I was raised in a time and place where parents and grandparents used real threats of physical violence to keep their children in line. My grandfather never actually hit me, but by god, he sure as hell made me believe he would if I crossed the line, so I never dared try him. My father only had to spank me a handful of times, and each one I deserved and I never misbehaved in that manner again. Today, if a man raises his voice, he’s got “anger issues.” Well, despite the do-gooders best intentions, the removal of the threat of violence has left us with where we are: a generation out of control with no respect for authority or other people’s rights. I’m not advocating for abuse, but corporal punishment, even if just as a threat, does work.

I’ve never once raised a hand to a woman. Well, not since I was 13 and got in the last fist-fight with my sister. Even when my ex-wife came to me on Christmas morning to tell me she wanted to leave and I was so angry I wanted to strangle her, I didn’t even threaten to lay a hand on her. Even when I’ve been pushed beyond my limit of patience and tolerance, I’ve never even considered striking a woman because I am a man, and to me real men don’t physically hurt women. The one caveat to that is if a woman tries to harm my kids. Then, I’ll kick her ass as if she were a man, but other than that one exception, there’s no place in this world for a man to even slap a woman.

This post has gone way off the rails from what I had originally intended, but those are some of my thoughts on what it means to be a man today and how complicated and confusing all of it has become. What do you think? Am I just completely off my rocker, or do I make some legitimate points? I want to know your thoughts on this subject.