Look at my red hands and my mean face

[veneratio]

I never realized how much my ring meant to me until about 5 minutes ago. I lost the promise ring my girlfriend gave me. I've looked in the dryer..the washer..tore apart my bed. It is MIA. Maybe the dust bunnies are keeping it as a POW.

 

I feel naked, journal. Oh so naked. And my finger is lonely.

[veneratio]

So it's been about a year since my end of the world break up. Time, persistence and effort have carried me quite a ways. I remember the last time I wrote about it I still felt anger regarding my ex and the situation, but I didn't want to. Now? Nothing. I can actually laugh when I think of some of the things she said during and after the break up. I've finally reached my goal of indifference. No more of that terrible gut wrenching feeling when I think of how callous she was towards the end. You just have to keep trudging forward with one goal in mind: bettering who you are as a person. Not for anyone else, not for revenge, solely for you. That has to be a genuine desire.

 

End of that chapter. It was far too long.

[veneratio]

So, I haven't really talked about work much in here. I guess I don't really like to talk about it. Some people take that as me not truly enjoying what I do, or that I see it as just being a job. Just to pay the bills and get by. That couldn't be farther from the truth. It has its pros and cons as with every other job, along with everything else in life. But it's definitely not just a job. Though I do remember looking at it that way, during my first few semesters at the local CC. I thought of it as simply a stepping stone, just something in between, on my way to the bigger picture. And I guess that's partly true. But that's not the point.

 

I appreciate what I do a lot more now than the idea I had of it as an 18 year old sitting in a classroom who wanted nothing more than to be a firefighter and just put the wet stuff on the red stuff. There's a much bigger picture. And it has little to do with saving lives or being a hero despite how often those phrases are thrown around by those not in the field, and even by the extremely arrogant ones who are in the field. In all honestly a life being saved is a rare occasion. You're lucky if out of your whole career you truly get to save one life. And hero? I know I've written about the idea and meaning behind that label, and I'm sure many will disagree. But I'm as humble as they come when it comes to my what I do..my career and the path that I pray it takes. I don't believe anyone who serves the public is a hero. Whether they bear a gun in their hand, carry a stethoscope with a gurney in tow, or is manning the nozzle that powers the hose putting a 3 story fire out. No hero. I've wrote it in here and have spoken on the subject many times. A hero is a name engraved, a memory that a child, wife, husband, or family member grasps onto trying in earnest to remember every detail lest that memory not be forgotten. So that it's forever etched in their mind because it's all they have. A hero, to me, is something none of us ever truly want to be, but we'll take that label if duty calls.

 

I'm getting totally off track and writing an entirely different journal entry. I believe the reason I don't talk about work is because it's just depressing. I don't believe most people truly want to hear about how you find a guy's torso against a family's sliding back door, then you find a limb in someone's driveway, his head a few yards down accross the street and so on. Nobody wants to hear about how you talk into certain facilities for a code and no one is doing CPR on your grandmother or your mother, because they're just old people, right? Who really wants to hear a description of the screams of a mother who just lost her child. It's unimaginable and indescribable. And then the father of said child finally breaks down and it breaks your spirit but you can't show it because you're the one who was sent to help them and be strong for them. Or maybe that's reversed and it's the cries of a child who has just lost their parent or their parent is being worked. There are no words, no actions to console that kid. And what about that lost child, the one that the parents haven't seen for weeks. Who is on drugs on and off and this time they haven't seen him or her for some time. And then a call comes in for a suicide, a hanging, somewhere in the woods or in an abandoned warehouse. You arrive and there's just a wall of this stench that hits you square in the face. There it is, the maggots, the elongated neck because God knows how long they've been there. Then the thought hits you, someone will have to see their kid, sibling, SO like this. Whoever it is that gets called down for the ID.

 

Now I feel like I need a drink. I guess there's a reason I don't talk about it. It's not noticeable until you sit down and think about it all.

[tiredofvampires]

I have a few heroes.

 

And they all have one thing in common.

 

None of them think (or thought) of themselves as heroes.

[veneratio]

I have a few heroes.

 

And they all have one thing in common.

 

None of them think (or thought) of themselves as heroes.

 

And I bet they're a worthy few.

 

Wish I still had heroes.

[veneratio]

So I had a conversation with a former coworker a few days ago. A catch up dinner which into a career/life/college conversation. And I'll say this, as blunt as a hammer to the head. I detest snobs. College snobs. Culture snobs. Just snobs period. I don't even like it when my coworkers think they're an better than a patient just because they aren't the ones on the gurney on a 5150 hold. You aren't better. There's a thin line between you and that person.

 

Back to the conversation. It pretty much consisted of "what have you done so far to get you closer to becoming a firefighter?" "have you done all that?" "why aren't you a firefighter yet?" "I really think you should go back to college and experience it" "Don't worry about paying for college" "Even if you don't know what you want to do, just go" Blah blah blah blah blah. At the time, I admit, I did feel a little defeated, not by her, but because I want it so much. And because of that I feel hopeless at times. Leading me to think that, hey, maybe I should just transfer and get a degree in something, because otherwise I'm just stuck waiting around for it. For a second there, I was considering other degrees, and I have been for awhile. Just to have something else to fall back on and to explore other options. But I'm so glad I had that conversation. It made me realize a bunch of things. Most of what was coming from her mouth was what she felt about herself because her friends have their masters and she doesn't and regrets it. That's her hang up, not mine. And why would I go to a university just for the hell of it when I don't even know what I want to major in, if anything at all?

 

I love what I do and I wish more people could understand that. I don't want to be a doctor or a lawyer or an engineer or whatever else out there that earns you respect. I'm content with "just" working on an ambulance for now. I wake up and I don't dread going to work. I get to encounter all types of personalities, people and situations and take what I can from those events. It humbles me. And there's no degree that could ever replace my desire of becoming a firefighter. I'm never giving that up. It might seem hopeless at times, but the idea of it keeps me going. Imagining a badge finally being pinned to my chest after all that I've put in...nothing can replace that. Nor do I want anything to.

 

No it isn't like other jobs. I can't just get a degree and apply and get hired. I'm competing with thousands of other applicants. No, I don't have to do rigorous coursework or labwork or research, but I do have to know what I'm doing. You don't just aimlessly cut holes into roofs and put water on the hot stuff. It isn't like you're more than likely the first on scene for most medical calls. It's not like I don't try to help out my patients to understand their conditions more, or apply for assistance, or lead them in the right direction for their needs. It's not like my dispatch doesn't make mistakes sometimes and assign me a call that shouldn't be mine and I have to make decisions that a medic should be making.

 

Some of the most intelligent people have been those who have sat right beside me for a 12 hour shift. Most without college degrees.

 

But all of this from the same girl who has so much respect for a POS of a person just because he almost has his masters in English and because he has traveled and is "cultured". Should what you have to say really matter to me?

 

Needed to vent. Just gets old sometimes. But I am really glad that conversation took place. I needed those realizations.

[veneratio]

A little bit more on the subject of my last entry...

 

For awhile I was feeling a little frustrated in my relationship. I yearned for someone to talk to about topics I was interested in or cared about. It made me question us. Is this really someone I want to be with? And it created this film over how I saw her..a film whose ingredients were probably not far off from those in the film that lined my coworkers eyes and thoughts. Just made me appreciate her and our relationship more. I don't need someone who wants to talk about all of my tin foil hat BS. I have friends, coworkers and barstool buds for that. She shows me love and meets me halfway where it truly matters.

 

But I do understand respecting education. Or appreciating and respecting an education. I get that. But education doesn't equate intelligence. It doesn't define a persons worth or value. And any other time I'd shrug it off, but this is something that really does bother me. I hate that label that EMS and public safety gets. That we're all just uneducated idiots that have simple jobs. That couldn't be further from the truth.

 

And this isn't me giving myself a pat on the back. I grew up in this line of work. That way of thinking is pretty much the equivalent of saying that every great firefighter and officer I knew who died in the line of duty or has been wounded or injured on the job, every EMS responder who goes to work every day and truly gives it their all--not just their 75% because it's just a stepping stone--and has a passion for what they do, every officer who isn't just collecting a 6 figure salary and truly does care and believes in what law enforcement should be about (not like the 3 sheriff's I saw last night who sat and watched one man struggle with pushing his car while they all ate their burgers), did/does so in vain.

 

Of course I'm offended.

[tiredofvampires]

Maybe that's one reason I've not found a lifetime mate yet.

 

I want to be loved in a simple and direct way, with words and deeds. And "met halfway where it truly matters." You've got nothing if not those things.

 

But I also really need to be able to have a meeting of minds, where we share intellectually and emotionally what we are passionate about. Or just, what we are about. I want my partnership to resemble a lifelong discussion with a best friend about matters big and small. I want us to feel involved in eachother's souls and minds. Not on the same level of intensity all the time, of course. That would be suffocating. But it seems "just love" is not enough. I've had those relationships, and I felt starved on a level. (And maybe it was just the wrong dynamic, I don't know -- it could be that you feel more rapport with your gf than I did with my SO's.) There has to be the presence of a driving force where we are really discovering and investigating life together. Not in an academic way (although cool, if that's in the mix somewhere from time to time), just in an alive way.

 

I just see couples who have this kind of special bond -- they're lovers, and best friends, and eachother's sounding boards, coaches, all rolled into one -- and think....so, it's possible. Right? Possible. Possible.

 

I just don't feel that because I have other friends and outlets for that, that means I don't need it in my "primary" relationship. Kind of like when people say to women (or me), "Why do you need to ask male friends about your relationship problems? That's what your women friends are for." Um, not really. I talk to people and want them in my lives based on what we are contributing to eachother that's helpful, positive, meaningful, and affirming, and all may apply. Men contribute something women don't, and vice versa. Old people contribute something younger people don't, and vice versa. I don't really understand delegating different people to different personal functions in my life, except on a completely individual basis.

 

I just don't feel anyone else's conversations could take the place of the ones I want to be having, lying next to my SO, no matter how great and important these other people in my life.

 

I don't see it as me feeling superior to someone who is not interested in, or looking for this....it's about compatibility of values.

 

But like I said. Maybe too much to ask for, even if "possible." Asteroids hitting the earth are possible, too.

 

So kudos to you for clearly marking your priorities, compromising in a way that doesn't compromise you, and finding a happy ground where you are.

[veneratio]

I see those couples, too, and I'm sometimes envious of what they have. Not to say that I'm unhappy in my relationship. But I wouldn't reject the opportunity of having her interested in some of the same things, either. Sometimes it would be nice to not just talk about the goings on of the day. Yet at the same time I don't think anyone should be subject to the contents of my mind or rather the gears that power it. I can't even escape it and sometimes I want to lol...the hows and whys and why nots sometimes drive me crazy. So it's nice to have a break from that. Or a distraction from it.

 

But she has been taking an interest in some of the same things. She'll ask me questions about certain things and ask me why I feel the way I do about them. So..she's trying. I'll give her that. And that means a lot to me, too.

 

The meeting of the minds and shared passions is what will get me. I was just having this discussion with a coworker yesterday, told her I was jealous of her and her boyfriend because they're both in EMS, so they understand each other. The hours..the morbidness..the caution of other people/sizing strangers up..the lack of heavy drinking and partying. That's one thing I'll admit. I'd love to be in a relationship with someone in EMS or healthcare. But that has its downside as well, lots of unfaithfulness. Not always the case, but it's rampant enough to make me think twice about dating someone in this field. I love my girlfriend and I don't want to be with anyone else, but it would be nice to come home to someone who understands those rough calls.

 

I do hope you find your mate, though, ToV. You deserve it. And I don't think you're asking too much. A relationship can't thrive if you're starved...no getting around that.

[veneratio]

I don't know why I expected any different. You break my heart every season. We were so close. I cheered my little heart out and bernie leaned like an idiot. I even clapped a bruise into the palm of my hand. I couldn't make a fist for almost a week without it hurting. You still shattered my heart despite my commitment. Every time. Every. Single. Time. This time you let six men get to third base and then you allowed all 6 of them to score. AS I WATCHED. I couldn't believe it. I sat in disbelief. Mouth gaping..awestruck. I had a feeling you might let me down, I guess that's why I put away that tall can so fast as I watched it all unravel. But I'm loyal and I'll stick around for more heart break. See you next season, Oakland. I'll be waiting. For now I'll feel like a harlot and root for the Giants. A traitorous harlot. A regular Benedict Arnold. Or a Benedict Aaron I guess..

 

I promise I wont wear those Halloween colors, though, baby. I love you far too much for that, even through all of the heartbreak

 

Time for the World Series.

[veneratio]

Oh my God, how can you deal with seeing people die? And blood? And this and that. Doesn't it scare you? Doesn't is bother you? Doesn't it get to you..affect you? Isn't it horrible when you can't save someone?

 

I get those questions all of the time, especially when meeting new people. I'd take working a 911 system over transports ANY day. Even if doing transports is much easier. Why? Because transports are depressing. You're exposed to mostly old people and kids who just need someone to care about them. Watching someone die, especially for the first time, is a beast of its own. You sort of grow cold toward it, you have to. But there's still a part of it that gets to you. Once a person is dead, they don't have feelings. They don't talk to you. They don't share their emotions and thoughts. They don't voice how scared they are and how alone they are. I'm sure that sounds very cold and detached, but I don't mean it to be.

 

It sucks to watch someone die and have someone die on you, it does. Especially after you've done all that you can do. After you've exhausted yourself doing CPR on the long ride to the ER. Nobody likes that.

 

But what's worse are people's feelings. My worst call to this day isn't a 911 call. It was a transport. I remember the exact location and my patient's exact words. She lived in a retirement home and had fallen, more than likely suffered a hip fx. During transport she didn't express concern for herself when I asked my normal questions. I asked if she was comfortable or if I could make her more comfortable. She said she was fine, but didn't want to worry her kids because she knows she's just a burden on them and they just want her to die already. They just want her to die already. It felt like someone had punched my soul. She meant that. She didn't just come to that conclusion on her own. It hurt more than anything to know that this old lady felt this way about her own family, her own kids. It hurt to know that her family made her feel that way just because she was growing old. It hurt to know that was her only concern, being a burden on her family, not her own health.

 

So no, the 911 calls don't bother me as much as people would think. It hurts more to know that someone is living and suffering. Living a lonely life without the love and support of their own family.

 

I've never felt like I was going to live long. I don't know if that stems from a fear of not wanting to grow old or not, either way I don't want to. Calls like those are a constant reminder of that.

 

And don't get me wrong. All of the calls can bother me and affect me in some way. I feel that I worded things wrong. The blood, the gore, the hands on portion of my job doesn't bother me much. I wouldn't be doing this job if that were the case. But raw emotions and feelings seep through your skin to leave a stain on your heart that never fades. That's what I'm trying to say.

[veneratio]

I needed that. Sometimes you have to get your soul backhanded to keep you in line. A blow to your pride is never easy, but I needed that lesson. Thanks for it.

[veneratio]

Somewhere along the way, in between all of the twists and turns, ups and downs, sudden pitfalls and hill climbs that seemed like a dash...I lost myself. I'm not living how I should be or how I want to be. I don't carry myself the way that I used to. Time to change that. Little by little, it will happen.

[Realitynut]

Just hoping you're ok...and have found yourself......keep saying this is a new year....

[veneratio]

It's been 84 years and I can still smell the fresh anger. The self esteem had never been used. The skin had never been walked in. Veneratio was called the ship of angst, and it was. It really was.

 

Haha.

 

I tried reading through some of my old journal entries. I made it to one where I admitted that I would be cheering for the giants. A piece of my soul died reading that. Current day Ven would never, under any circumstance, root for that god awful, white collar, bandwagon fan base, Halloween themed team. Ever. Then I read an entry about sex with my ex and it's over now. Me reading old journal entries is cancelled.

 

A lot has changed. A lot hasn't. Hopefully some old faces (read names) are still around.

[tiredofvampires]

Long time no see, Veneratio! I'm "still" here...albeit my once-near-continual presence has really ebbed over the last few months, owing to many distractions and a growing sense of having less of value to contribute.

 

But I just cruised by, and here you are! How good to see "this old face", still out in the woodwork of the world! I wonder if you'll see this before another 84 years? At the moment, it's Thanksgiving Day, 2016.

 

I get the feeling that there are billions of square miles of skin that are not being walked in these days. It's a sad and

scary time.

 

I hope the changes for you are good ones. I think it's a valuable exercise to go back to one's journal years later. In some ways, it might be as valuable looking back at oneself as the writing act itself.

[veneratio]

Oh, ToV! I'm 83 years off. Refreshing to see "this old face." You were, and still are, one of my favorites. Always a treat reading what you had to say, or write. I miss it.

[veneratio]

I wanted to write. I didn't really want to share on Facebook or Instagram, then I remembered that I had this journal. Perfect.

 

My older brother passed away today. Half brother. I never really got to know him as much as I would have liked. I remember the first time meeting him as a kid, I was around 11-12 years old. He made more of an impression than he will probably ever know. He was a giant of a man...just huge. Muscular. He had this giant wu-tang decal in his back window and I remember thinking, "I like wu-tang! Maybe he'll like me more if he knows that." I wanted so badly for him to like me. Because I wanted a brother, or any sibling really. I always hated being an only child. Without a doubt him and my dad are the catalysts behind my love for the iron.

 

I hope that somehow you know that I had and have love for you, despite the distance and despite the time apart. Family is family. I hope that you're up there or somewhere out there hitting some drop sets and Serge Nubret has your spot.

[veneratio]

I wrote that first journal entry 9 years ago. 8 years and some change to be fair. Not much has changed. I'm still a drunk, but a drunk with 3 years of sobriety. Just a baby trying to learn how to walk and talk. Trying to learn the ways of the world and find my place in it. The difference now is that I don't crave alcohol anymore. I can barely stand the smell. But that doesn't mean I'm safe. I still struggle with my pride and ego. That thought still slips into my mind sometimes, "You're going to let something have control over you? Are you that weak willed? Why can't you have a beer with your steak? I mean, can't you? Can't you control yourself?" Control. The only time I ever struggle with control is when it concerns myself. It's me vs. me. Always has been and always will be. That's the only thing that will ever threaten me losing my sobriety. My pride and ego. My thinking. Just a thought. I don't feel that way at the moment.

 

No. I haven't been acting correctly. I can't hardly recognize myself sometimes when I'm greased. I go on journeys out of my body and look at my red hands and my mean face and I wonder about that man who's gone so wrong. I've been becoming a problem to myself.

[veneratio]

Life is funny. Not haha, funny. If it is then it shares it's humor with Rick and Morty. I really wish I enjoyed that show as much as everyone else does, but it's not funny to me.

 

I was reading some of my old journal entries and I came across one detailing how my ex left me and two weeks later she posted a picture of her and the guy that she left me for. As if nothing had ever happened between us. And my heart sank. All of this talk of karma and when was it finally going to catch up with her. I don't know if it ever did and it doesn't matter. But what did happen? I found myself in her shoes. I found myself understanding her perspective. Never in a million years would I have believed or thought that I could sympathize with her or come to an understanding of why she did what she did and how she could be so happy given the circumstances. But as soon as I read that sentence my heart dropped. Because I was just there. Recently broke up with my at the time girlfriend of several years. It was mutual for the most part. Then not too long after that I met someone that made me smile, who I really enjoyed as a person. Unfortunately we aren't on speaking terms, but that's beside the point. I understand now. Right now. At this moment. I haven't thought about her in awhile, just reading my journal and came across that. It's crazy. Do I think that I'm a horrible person? Like how I thought of her for so long? No. I know I'm not perfect, but I don't think I'm horrible. She isn't and wasn't horrible, either. Just human. We're all just human and riddled with imperfections. It's the human condition. If you aren't happy with someone, the person that you're with, then you probably haven't been happy in awhile. I haven't been. It didn't just sneak up on me and I decided to give up after 2 weeks. It's been a long time coming, for both of us. We both deserve to be happy, if that's without the other person, then so be it. I just happened to meet someone at the wrong time. It doesn't mean that I should feel guilty about it due to the time frame. My ex had probably been unhappy for a long time. I feel it. I relate. You can try and try and try. Keep giving chances, but if everything remains the same and there aren't any changes, why stay if you're miserable? Some people just don't go together and that's ok. Some people aren't cocaine and waffles.

 

That's it. Just...what a lesson to be learned.

[veneratio]

What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way

What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you

What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way

 

And I don't want to fall in love...with you.

 

I don't want to fall in love period. We're all only human. Capable of mistakes, doing wrong and hurting each other. We can't get honest. We can't say what we mean and mean what we say. I think that's it for me...that's what does it for me. No one can say what they mean and mean what they say. White lies are way easier than telling the truth, I get it. I just don't want to do this anymore. It's going to be a bed buddy kind of life for me.

 

And make no mistake. I'm no better, either. I don't know why I do or say the things that I do until I sit down, in silence, embracing that deep, painful loneliness and really think about who I am as a person. With some poking and prodding by a handful of people who know better than I do. And by that time the damage is done. But I can be better for the next time and the one after that. But I don't know how many more after that's I have left in me. That part of me is weary and doesn't want to keep walking this road. The other parts of me just want to have a good time and enjoy this life while I'm here. So I think I'll do just that. And please, Great Spirit, keep those women with their devil music away from me and my heart. They can have my loins and adventure, just not my heart.

[veneratio]

The universe sends you presents. Sometimes in abundance. If you ask for something, you're going to receive it. It may just not be in the form that you wished, hoped and/or prayed for, but you get it. I've been asking for this feeling of loneliness to go away.

 

I cried in a meeting yesterday. After the meeting if we're being technical. One of the older guys asked how I was doing, "I'm alright." "Are you sure, ven? Because you look like you're having one hell of a day." Cue category 5 hurricane on Ven's face, eyes of the storm being...well, the eyes. I start walking away out of embarrassment, one of the other guys walked up to me, asking if I could be of service at xyz event, unaware of the disaster left on my face. Once he saw, he told me to get in the car, we're going for a drive. Of course I get in. Older guy #1 comes up to the drivers side and hands older guy #2 some cash and tells him to take me out to breakfast. We share our childhoods, learn about each other and just talk. I tell him that I don't know what happened. I've never cried like that in front of a group of people. That I hate crying, because it makes me feel weak. He asks, "why does crying have to be a bad thing?" And goes on to tell me how he's witnessed guys 2 times my size cry. Guys who looked like they could snap both of us in half as a warm up. Just for fun. And that crying just means that I'm growing.

 

That's love. I've felt a ton of love from the rooms lately. I'm grateful for it. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, "thanks for loving me when I couldn't love myself." I always hear that in shares. I may have said it a few times, never really felt it until now. I'm never alone.

[veneratio]

Expectations. They'll let you down. Every. Single. Time. So don't have them. Plus that's how a resentment baby is made. Thoughts, feelings and expectations = resentment baby. Don't do it. The good news is that those feelings are fading. What's left is a residue that consists of longing for the sex, but it's not so strong that I can't convince my mind that it isn't worth it. Just remember who that body belongs to and what's inside of it. Nothing for you. Nothing good, anyway.

[veneratio]

I suppose her comment on me romanticizing things makes sense now, or maybe I've just come to accept what is. It is what it is. Just because I felt something, a click, doesn't mean it was reciprocated. Despite her words, actions or how she made me feel. Actions and words are two entirely different things. That's the scary part of being vulnerable with someone. I thought we had something, like something was there, but obviously I thought wrong, and that makes me feel foolish. But the path to healing and being happy is forgiving myself for that as well as forgiving her. I can't keep tormenting myself about it. The whys, what ifs, buts, what does this mean, why would she do xyz if abc, etc. Don't compare myself to whoever it is that she's occupied with. None of that matters. Just accept it for what it is and let my grips go. Fall. It's ok. I don't like the feeling of free fall, but there's a cushion down there, just trust. A trust fall with my higher power, the universe, the great one, whatever you want to call it.

 

It could be worse, right? I have a lot on my plate and many more miles to go. I can't keep fueling an unnecessary ego bruiser. I wish her well with whatever endeavors find her on her way.

 

I'm not where I want to be and that's what I need to focus on. Building me. Being better than yesterday and being better today and being better for tomorrow. That's a never ending process, especially for me. I can always do more, there's always more work to do, there's always a stone to be unturned. But that's my fear of stagnation. I'm not getting any younger and I need to make some moves. My own battle. Always at battle with myself. Focus. Leave the small stuff behind.

[veneratio]

Nothing I hate more than being ignored. On top of being a crappy feeling, it's just so disrespectful in my opinion.