Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Bottoming out.

As I sit here, at the moment, I am overcome with a sense of absolute numbness. I am dumbfounded by the sheer enormity of my human dilemma. I feel as though I am being tested by God. How do I even begin to describe the feeling of complete and utter powerlessness I feel? It is indescribable. I look around my life, a life that I continue to be told I should be grateful for, and yet I have to fight every step of the way to believe even an iota of that concept. How can I share the contents of my mind and my soul? How do I touch the skin of what it means to suffer to the degree that I do? Am I addicted to this condition? Or am I touched by it and hence am merely trying to survive it? Is this a human problem or a personal one?

These are necessary questions as I attempt to come to terms with the inestimable disappointment that I call my life. A dissapointment not for what I have yet to accomplish, or perhaps never will, but a disappointment in the absolute sense of the imeasurable quality of endurance that one needs to contain the level of suffering I experience daily. This is not a relative term. My situation is unique to me and yet the human element remains constant. I in no way mean to denigrate another's journey to the soul. But I am simply stunned at the level of pain that I continue to encounter. Pain caused by a myriad of sources: refusal to accept what is, physical pain caused by recurrent sores and infections, constant disappointments at who I am or should become (psychic), more physical distress caused by the stress of other people, the abnegation of my ego or personality into a universal principal that I find hostile, the black emptiness of lonley isolation from a lover, the terrible fears of loss and the life long grief that will always be present, even as time heals all wounds. Having to disappear completely whether through death or personality destruction. And, of course, leaving me behind here.

I am most immediately troubled by the chronic nature of my ever increasing, ever burdensome physcial problems. While not in the same league with the severities of others I know, it still is my personal burden and, as such, it constitutes a need to adapt to a life of constant medical care. This is something I could not have imagined at my rather young age (45) a mere ten years ago. But, alas, the problems continue to grow. If it is not strange viruses or bacterium, it is gastrointestinal issues, or pharmeceutical care that is chronic. The extraordinary amount of antibiotics I have ingested this year alone is staggering.

Let us not speak of my financial affairs. Continually dismal, to say the least. Or my lost sense of personal identity as a Jew. I am seeking a resurrection in that arena. My tortuous relationship with a baseball team that savages me nightly, and my inchoate diatribes of the mind. The inssuferable, nauseating thoughts which run rampant without recourse to relief.

I am sober, thank God. But whose God am I to thank? I follow the instructions of others, but which others do I follow? I believe you when you like me, or when I win or you win and I win through you. But I wonder, do I believe me? Do I trust and respect me? How do I let Go and let God? You say, just let it go, like a piece of hot coal, and then you sell millions of books with that line.

Angry? No, not at all. Just amazed. Simply amazed.

11 Comments:

Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

My friend, you are not alone in your level of disappointment in that thing we call life. I do not understand how others succeed, while the rest of us barely scrape by. I too face daily rejection. Why can’t I hold a job? People tell me give to up show biz, which I did and I can’t make it in the outside world either. Because I can’t get work either way, I might as well continue in the entertainment business.

I have had trouble with sinus and emphysema, but funny ever since I took a job canvassing, I haven’t had an outbreak in God knows how long. You would think someone who has allergy and respiratory problem should not work outdoors and doing physical activities. However, that’s what I did. And you know what? I feel great.

The election is over so now I am out of work.

Your current health problems remind me of what my step son Sean is going through. No one can tell him what is wrong with him. Because he had to see many doctors through the past few years, his job fired him thinking he was faking it.

And as far as God is concern, He is the only one you can count on. He may not grant what you want, but He is listening and understands. I don’t count on prayer to help me achieve my goals. I just pray to help others and talk to God.

In this fuck up roll of the dice that I call my life, the only thing I am certain of is with all of the crap in my life, I know at the end, I have a place to go. I cannot stand the way life has taken a giant dump on my life. It’s like a constant game. Every time I go to do something, everyone in the world decides to do the same thing at the same time. I pull out into the street that is clear and wham!!! Every car in Vegas shows up. I walk around the corner and wham!!! I run into a mob of people. I turn right, they turn right. I turn left. . . well you get the picture.

This may seem minor, but when you are just trying to get along in this world, every little annoyance adds up. It’s like a fly who will not stop bugging you.

Finally, the fact that you should not feel bad because others have it worse is horseshit. Your problems are your problems. They feel just as large to you no matter if you have a paper cut or cancer. It’s your yoke that you carry, and you are the only one who knows how heavy it is. It’s not up to me or anyone else to belittle that burden.

Well I must go for now. I’m glad I cheered you up.

Your friend always,

Michael

12:09 AM  
Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

You may be upset by yesterday’s loss to the Cubs, but I’m not. Sure I was pissed that they blew a seven run lead, but I think this game will be just what the Dodgers need. They played great against a horrible team that could not get out of their own way. Then they got complacent. They let the game slip away.

I’m glad they did that in a game that doesn’t mean anything, instead of in the playoffs when every game counts. I know they could have gone up 2 ½ games on San Diego. Let’s hope it won’t come back to haunt them. However, if they are the team of destiny as I think they are, they’ll buckle down and play like they are suppose to. Instead of the way they have been the last two weeks, and that is like a bunch of busher’s. (Actually they are. Remember they are fresh from Las Vegas.)

So let’s hope they learned from yesterday’s embarrassment and remember what the immortal sage Yogi Berra said, “It ain’t over until it’s over.” (So he’s not the Bard. Who gives a fuck!)

Until next time.

Your friend always, Michael

11:18 AM  
Blogger Jeff said...

I have this to say: You are a good man with many flaws and great talent. George Raphael Small told me once that he was at a party with a bunch of students and you were yammering away at him and he said, "Forkush, you're brilliant. Now, shut up."

I sincerely believe in you. You will prevail. You will thrive. The word "thwart" as applied to you will be scorched right out of that goopy neuronal place where cool and oddball dudes like you store your vocabularies.

Rest easy, my friend. Peace be with you.

Jeff

9:03 PM  
Blogger Jeff said...

Oh, good grief. How could I forget? The Book of Job is most instructive re: boils and happy outcomes.

Do not listen to Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar, my friend, or pay heed to the Adversary. You do not deserve this but you will be fine. You are already on your way. You are sober.

Jeff

10:10 PM  
Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

Jeff is right. We, your friends, know all that is you. We do not say these things because of pity or any false repentances. We say these things because deep down we all care. I often wonder what it would be like to die unknown. This use to bother me. Now I don’t care. Because to the ones that do know me, I am special.

This is true with you. You have friends who really care about you. You may have strained relationships, but that’s just emotions. I bet many of those long time friends still care.

I know when I wrote to David DeMattia and Leanne Shermer, they both cared about your well being. I haven’t written to Jerry Sexton in a while, but when I last heard from him, he wanted to know what you were doing.

And I can tell by reading what is written from Jamie and Jeff, they too care. It pains us to see you like this. We all want you to be happy. But Jeff is correct about another thing. . . you are sober. With all of this crap you’ve been through, you are sober. Pat yourself on the back for that. Many mortals have failed to be clean and sober. It is like climbing Mount Everest, but you did it.

Which reminds me of an amusing story. They asked Edmond Hillary, the first man who climb that great mammoth hill, what did he think about when he got to the top. Sir Hillary said, “How to get down.”

This, I think kind of sums up our lives. How do we get down gracefully without falling on our ass?

1:14 AM  
Blogger Tony Forkush said...

My dear dear friends.
How can I thank you enough for your caring and kind words? Michael, let me start with you: I love you my long lost brother.
And Jeff, and Michael it is Jeff Ford writing, not Lebeau,
God loves you my son. I throw a missive into the universal waters and back come the love and support from true friends via the inter-ether-net.
Thank you dear ones. Thank you a million times a million.
You make life worthable.

8:06 AM  
Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

Jeff Ford. Amazing! I remember talking to you on our ten year reunion. I still remember it like it was yesterday. That was when Kirk Gibson hit that classic homerun in the World Series and I missed it.

Jeff and I talked into the night. I even wrote about it in my diary. I have to dig it up to find out exactly what transpired that night. If I recall, you were upset with Darrell for ignoring you.

Also, Patty Sylvester was there with her sister and I think you and Patty’s sister hit it off. It was eighteen years ago, so I could be wrong.

How are you doing? I’m glad you read Tony’s site. I too worry about him. But, that’s what friends are for.

Go Dodgers Blue.

11:05 AM  
Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

11:05 AM  
Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

Jeff Ford. Amazing! I remember talking to you on our ten year reunion. I still remember it like it was yesterday. That was when Kirk Gibson hit that classic homerun in the World Series and I missed it.

Jeff and I talked into the night. I even wrote about it in my diary. I have to dig it up to find out exactly what transpired that night. If I recall, you were upset with Darrell for ignoring you.

Also, Patty Sylvester was there with her sister and I think you and Patty’s sister hit it off. It was eighteen years ago, so I could be wrong.

How are you doing? I’m glad you read Tony’s site. I too worry about him. But, that’s what friends are for.

Go Dodgers Blue.

1:00 PM  
Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

1:01 PM  
Blogger Michael Pascoe said...

I was going through some of my old stuff I had in storage and guess what I found? Your T2000 tennis racket. Yeah, the one you use to play air guitar on. Weird huh?

Your friend always,

Michael

10:38 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home