Restless Soul Syndrome

Haven't been on here for a while now, mostly because what I had to say didn't amount to much--or what I had to say was surely going to get me kicked out of the Blogosphere.

I feel like I'm biding my time too much here. Enough. Okay, I'm gonna get right to it! Here goes...

I'm searching. I'm sad. I'm scared. I'm disappointed.

A few months back, a good friend from college killed himself by jumping from a prominent building here in Downtown Denver. His last post reminded me to have a great weekend, and "he'll see me soon", he hoped. His Facebook page is still creepily open. I had to de-friend him, as I felt a little voyeuristic and unwelcome. I mean, HE chose to leave the dinner party, right? So, who am I to suck up to the leftover emotions with his abandoned friends and family...

A few weeks later, a long-time business associate tried to kill himself with a massive overdose on Xanax. "Luckily", his wife discovered him lying on the floor and the paramedics performed their oft-overlooked job once again. After visiting with him a while recently, I still wonder when he'll try again. I really hope he does not before someone truly ministers to him.

Both men had the same empty smile, the same extreme succeses and failures in life, and me as a "friend". Here, I began to reflect on what I could have said or done, to quell their inner demons for a while longer, before they chose their methods of self-consolidations. I often look back and try to pinpoint the faulty living in my own battles, the missed opportunities in my associations, and I've discovered I have not been a good man. As I tumble into the midway point of my 40's, I presently know I don't have it all together. Let's get something clear, though: I have a reasonably successful career, I have a pretty good home with a loving son and dogs, and my spiritual walk is a consistent revelation of refreshment and joy.

I'm just not a good guy.

Just yesterday, I was texted by a lion-hearted guy at work who asked to have a few drinks with him. Earlier this week, the same guy called and asked me how my day was shaking out, as I didn't look happy at the time. All I did was tell him I was simply too busy to visit with him.

In business, I have people who want to work with me, and I forget to call them further.

I avoid eye contact in crowded places, I ignore neighbors, I despise my bosses, I avoid the mirror, and--most terribly of all--I friend and de-friend people on Facebook all the time, according to my misguided egotistical assumptions.

There are times where my wife and I try to work things out, and I put everything in the back of my mind, plowing into my work and aspirations.

Having noticed all these empirical truths from a purely pragmatic mechanism, I'm left, still with myself. Where does this discovery lead? What now? Do I really try to change? Do I re-schedule missed opportunities and appointments? Do I resolve to take different steps?

I took a quick look at my own writings--all counted on a single hand, with three chubby digits--and noticed the last entry was about a year ago. A lot has happened since, and I'm guilty.
Not that I'm some great prize among men, nor do I value my presence and information with a slight dramatic pause: I just don't share much.

It all probably goes back to Acting School, or even before. I liked being other people. I loved discovering everybody else's ticks, inner landscapes, and motives. Everyone else is more interesting, I think. To clarify, I'm not lashing myself, nor am I soliciting a response, but I have a firm grasp on my Inner-whatever. My life is lived almost entirely in my cranium. I love it in there. I'm selfish of my own perceptions, jokes, and criticisms.

One of the great joys in my life is among friends, where we can spar over opinions, thoughts and dreams. In those cases, I don't share as much as I should, because I might indulge my brain too much... you know how those people are at cocktail parties, speaking for hours, most notably about themselves. If I'm ever like the afore mentioned character, I've given orders to my friends to beat me with shovels, and whack me out in a field (that's the Chicago Way, after all!).

So, what I'm trying to get at is this: I want to be better. More outgoing... I don't think there was ever a time in my life where I DIDN'T try to hide. Being genuine should be a bigger priority for me.

I want to be a better friend...Goodness knows how you (and you know who you are, people) have lifted me up when I needed it, and I'm brutally contrite as a result. Thank you.

To the friends and family I have let down, forgive me. I will do what I can to be better.

To Jay--I want to be there for you, and you should let me know whatever it is that you need. Sorry for the poor writing, but I'm coming from the heart. I'd like to help or pray for you when I can.

And finally, to Kyle--I failed you. Fly away.