Am I a quitter?

Do I give up too easily?

Why can't I keep on fighting for something that I really believe in even when it feels like a lost cause?

Does that mean that I don't really believe it anymore deep down in my core? Am I deluded in my conscious thought patterns? Am I just giving in to peer pressure? Expectations of friends and family and church?

Am I afraid of the unknown? Preferring the miserable but known present?

Is my lack of passion in fighting for the lost cause the missing ingredient that would turn the tide?

These are the questions that churn through my head. The thoughts that I wish I could silence for some peace. I have answers for some, but even those answers raise questions of their own. Are they how I really am or just how I want myself to be. How I was at some point in the past?

I think that I look forward to the challenges of the future and change. I used to pride myself on taking on new problems and learning new tools.

I've had a few different fitness goals that I've failed at over the last year. I'm not at a bad place health wise. I weigh less than I have for a decade. I'm stronger and more capable as well. I know some of the reasons why I failed at them, including at least one of the goals being way too aggressive. However, I also don't always fight through things that complicate the pursuit of those goals. I can falter when I have minimal external support. (Especially when support is lacking in my immediate relationships.) Why isn't wanting it for myself always enough?

I used to pursue learning new things on my own with more energy and passion. I have tried a few times over the last two years to get a minimum viable rails project finished, but I never seem to make it past a weekend or two.

Same goes for my motorcycle. It took me a year and a half to get some simple maintenance done on it and in the end I had to let my best friend take over to actually get it done. There were a lot of emotional issues that go along with that particular project but delaying it just denied me that outlet and release. Although it did also deny me a potentially more dangerous outlet for when I was feeling fey and prone to taking unnecessary chances. So maybe there was some provenance at work there as well.

I gave up blogging in this blog for a while because it caused too much conflict even though I had found it helpful in organizing and processing my thoughts. I tried a more private blog but it didn't provide the same clarity.

I know this has jumped around a lot. I think part of the question I am asking myself is "what do I truly believe?" What are the core things that make me who I am?

I have been accused of being a chameleon. I tended to think of it as being the reed that bends before the wind so it does not break. I think it is a survival strategy but not necessarily a way to thrive and grow into who you really want to be. Everyone conforms somewhat to the groups of people they surround themselves with, in both positive and negative ways. But I have often allowed myself to be more conformant than necessary. Even in more intimate relationships I have often tried to be who the other person said that they wanted instead of being true to myself. Not that they were always in opposition. Being able to put the other person first isn't always bad, it is just a question of degree I think.

I will stop writing before I go any further afield tonight. Even just writing this out has raised some more questions to think about. I think I'll jot them down for my next entry.

A Letter to my Love

I lie in bed next to you. Listening to you breathe. Hoping that you are sleeping well, not troubled by the dreams that often plague you.

I know tonight was difficult. I know you don't like facing painful memories. I wish that you could understand that I love you. I only want the best for you (and for our children).

I have loved you for a long time. Even though the nature of that love has changed and grown over the years its existence has endured. In my darkest hours it was there as a fundamental truth. In our darkest hours it was the flickering of hope that refused to be extinguished no matter how adversity howled.

I wonder if you will be next to me when I wake. If you will choose to sneak away in the night for a temporary escape, or a permanent one. I hope not. And I pray not.

I pray a lot for you. Not that you would change. But that you would know love and peace. That you would have a good night's sleep. And if God wills, physical healing.

I pray for change in myself. That I could be the husband that you need, if not always the one you want. That I can provide the support and encouragement you need to fulfill your potential and face your troubles. That I can be the safety and shelter you need when you get overwhelmed by life.

Most of all, I love you. Plain and simple.

143,
YWS

It has been a while

I let blogging drop for a while because the misunderstandings continued even after all the discussion around my last blogging hiatus. I’m not sure why I feel the need to resume, other than missing the role that blogging played in working out my thoughts.

I really feel like I’ve finally turned the corner on putting the last two years behind me. I was previously making good progress on the emotional front but came to realize that I had done very little on the lying/deception front. And in some ways that was more damaging to our relationship than the emotional betrayal. For one, it lasted a lot longer (being about 14 months from first major lie through final honesty, maybe even add another two months where she was doing her best to dance around questions and continue to cover up things). Anyway, as part of the fight we ended up starting on a list of realistic marriage vows. It was something I had suggested before, but Becky had previously stated that she would just go along with it to make me happy/help me. It wasn’t something that had any real meaning for her and so she would just be going through the motions, which wouldn’t really have helped me at all. (Way too first-wife-ish).

If we can manage to get them put together and detailed enough without devolving into a list of rules, we might actually be able to make this work. I think it is the kind of turning point that can help to anchor the change in direction of my thoughts. Just like my farewell letter to dad helped with letting go of him, this could help me let go of our past and do a better job focusing on our future.

The prednisone is wearing off as I’m tapering down on doses, but even so I think the core change is real and lasting, even if the momentary euphoria was steroid enhanced :) .

I am excited to have taken the next step in moving stuff from the old shed to the new one. With that, and starting to have some room to walk around / move / organize in my garage I’m beginning to think I might be able to get that under control again, and be able to do woodworking in the garage.

I’m actually able to walk all the way around the bike now. So maybe I’ll be able to finish putting the bike back together and see if it runs, or if I will need to pursue some professional help. I am strongly leaning towards fuel injection if I can’t get the carbs sorted out reasonably well once they’re back together. It might be a bigger can of worms. But it is a can of worms I think I understand better :)

I miss my Dad

Today would have been his birthday. For the last I don’t know how many years, he’d always come up over his birthday and hang out with us for what was initially a week, then turned into two most years.

So I’m sad today. I really feel his absence from my life today. It is better than it used to be because I no longer feel paralyzed by it like I did before. It is still strong enough to be a little bit of a drag on my motivation to do stuff, like getting the materials to frame the shed this weekend. Part of me just wants to punt the shed until the middle of August from a scheduling point of view. But I really want to get it up and get stuff moved over and out of my garage so I have more space to work.

I ordered the parts so I can start putting the carbs back together. I’m missing a part from each one (as I’m trying to keep parts together). I hope it runs when I get everything assembled :). This is kind of the biggest, most involved engine project I’ve done so far. Carburetors are ingenious devices, as an amazing amalgam of fiddly bits to work together across the RPM range. It is no wonder they can be a little finicky, though.

There is a part of me that really wants to try to fuel inject it over the winter, but it won’t be a cheap project. And I don’t know that it is really worth putting the money into it. Although I like the bike, I don’t know if this is a long term bike for me or not. If I can get it back on the road soon, I can get more miles under my belt and maybe have a better idea before winter downtime. The controller (microsquirt, probably) is the most expensive part of the upgrade. I’m a little concerned about finding throttle bodies small enough to work, although I could probably get some restrictor plates whipped up along with the mounting adapters. I’d be excited about the programming part of it, but I’d be a little leery of getting all the mechanical/airflow stuff sorted out correctly. Probably be easier to save up for a newer bike, but not as much of an accomplishment.

Second Interruption of Service

Yes, the second contiguous interruption of service was caused by my Mac finally refusing to display anything on the built-in display. As you can imagine, this did make it sort of difficult to use. Five days later, it is sporting a brand new display and logic board, and we’re back in business. The weekend felt hectic but good. Due to scheduling issues, both of our date afternoons ended up on the same weekend. It was almost like a mini weekend getaway. Having quiet lunches where we could sit and talk, or play hang man, two days in a row was quite a treat. We even went to see a movie (Inception) the one afternoon since we had done the most important shopping the day before.

I’m making a conscious effort to be more proactively open with Becky. So far the fallout seems mostly negative. Oh well. I feel like our relationship now is a weird mix of nothing has changed and everything has changed. I know those probably seem mutually exclusive. In this case, though, I feel like they can coexist without contradiction. Becky’s friendships with other guys is one of those areas. A lot has changed, including in part her motivations for pursuing them and the lengths that she will go to in order to preserve them. But at the same time, the beccarose parts aren’t gone, they’re just not as dominant. So there are still some of those old motivations hanging around. So we continue to have some of the same fights about it, especially when it comes to one-on-one time with those friends.

I’m waiting for the pool to finish filling so I can turn off the hose and then go take a shower. Between mowing (gas and grass), and blowing out the carb #2 body from dip #2, I don’t really want to go to sleep without washing up.

Interruption of Service

No, the interruption of service was not caused by a reaction to anything I said this last time around. With Grandma Stevens passing away and Becky going to VA with her parents, life has just been a little busy. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to blog while Becky was gone as sometimes my thoughts take me down a lonesome road in old Mexico - oh wait - that is Skippy Jon Jones... But seriously, they take me to some darker places and I didn’t want to possibly end up there while Becky was 4-7 hours away.

The danger of plans and expectations

Well, I re-learned the lesson about holding my time loosely in a very real way. I was wrapped up in plans for working on the motorcycle after the kids were in bed only to come home to a house that was way too hot for the kids to sleep. So I spent the time installing the air conditioners, working around the messes in the older two girls rooms, losing my temper and chewing them both out about the messes, snapping at Becky, and in general being disagreeable and irritating and stressful to my family. Not being salt and light by any stretch of the imagination.

Apologizing to the kids the next morning was as humbling as ever. Maybe one of these times it will provide enough chagrin to make the lesson stick for the rest of my life, instead of just a few months at best.

Grandma Stevens passed away while I was working on the air conditioners. I stopped to check my phone on a whim while moving fans and saw the text from Janet. I passed the news on to Becky by leaning out Liam’s open window and talking to her while she was in the pool with the kids. It was kind of surreal in a way. Very matter of fact in the middle of the bustle of life.