fears

So this post was due to be published month or so back but never got around to it... or just didnt feel ready to publish it.

Fear of pain, fear of rejection, fear of betrayal (my biggest fear). Why I am so scared of betrayal? Simple... I am not your typical husband/bf/lover. I notice everything and I see everything. I see a smile on girls faces, that slight upturned corner of your mouth that indicates its a juicy text, I pick up on your answers and your TELLs so I know when you will lie to me. I notice the change in appearance, hair style, nail polish change. I see it all and I process it all. You cant keep it a secret from me. Which is why I fear it the most.

Sadly though what choice do I have? Not to get hurt means to be a lone, which is a pain I would rather not feel. So into the fire I step knowing that I will either get burned or find love. But fuck it, you cant win unless you try.

---- New entry ...
I think this will be my last post in this blog.. I might add one or two if there is some juicy tid bits to add, other wise my loyal fans I think I have poured enough heart to the world. Its time to zip it up and be a man.

How dumb am I

So today I realized that I am a stupid retard...

As always I am getting a head of my self.. Two weeks ago I meat a girl, the one who I almost canceled on. Two great week... She is unlike anybody I have ever met, smart, sexy, brilliant, caring... I can go on and on describing her. Two great week, two damn near perfect weeks.. then I opened up the pandoras box that is my character flaws -- My gut feelings started to send warning signals to my brain. Now let me explain, my gut feelings are usually 99% accurate but I usually ignore my gut and then regret it but this time I went with it, desire to know whats behind closed door was to great ... So instead of keeping my damn mouth shut like I should have and giving my self chance to process it and purge it out of my system via a an extra hard work out I went and confronted her, instead of letting her open that door for me, to invite me in, and maybe hear the actually who store, I tried to shoved both of my feet into it and got the door shut on me. I mean if we were dating for 6 months, I might have been justified, maybe, but two weeks? Fuck no... I am just amazed she didnt get mad at me at toss my stupid ass out.

I mean lets be honest, I have my own secrets, or what not that I am not ready to share just yet, and will not share until I am ready. So if she has something to share then she will when she is ready. So why did I do it? hmmm read the title :) I guess one thing that is going for me, is that I tend to make mistakes once... then I learn.

am i ready?

So for last few months I went through what is called a whoring phase... i fucked as many girls as I could. Now most men would be happy, and I know my dad would be, is proud of me, the thing is I am not. I dont know, but I am wired different from most men. Besides the physical satisfaction i got out of it, and that is up for debate, I got nothing out of it. Total emptiness. The only joy is a simple knowledge that i fucked more women in the last 3 months then I did in my previous 32 years. Hell i got more ass in the last few months then i probably did in the last 3 years...

So for those few poor souls who have been around me when I found the courage to set my self free from my previous life know the pain I went through.. Well not pain, but emotional roller coaster, to instability, the loss of all logic. You also saw my return to normal. I am finally able to drink again and be happy, I am able to make jokes, I am my happy person that I used to be.

So some time back I met this girl... The funny thing about that meet was that I wanted to cancel that date cause the visit with dr.D took a lot out of me, but for some reason I decided to go through with it... figure if its like the one I had few days back ill just figure a way out and go home. Well 3 hours into the date the last thing i wanted was to go home, but now i am getting of point.

This girl asked me, and she was not the first, "you just moved out, you just ended your 12 year relationship" do you think you are ready to start another?

good question... but for the first time I can say YES!!!! I dont think i was made to whore around, from conquest to conquest... I want somebody to come home to. Change that to I need somebody to come home to. I need somebody that will make me want to be a better person....

I spent months hurting, but I can compartmentalize, I can burry feelings, which i did for a long time, which is what got me into this mess. But i stopped doing that. I blogged, I see a shrink, I talk to friends about my issues. I dug my self out of the whole that was me. I returned to ME. My heart is finally whole and ready to love again... I know that I take a risk of being hurt again, but I dont give a shit, I out on an hunt, but this time its not for pussy, its for a partner in crime.

Alea iacta est.....

to be nice or an ass part 2

So some time back I posted a blog about being tired of being taken for granted. About how being nice just gets me walked over.

Since then I had the chance to experience life. To go through some life changes, to see what i was writing from both sides. Here is the update, but first a small recap.

To those women, with who I am my old, nice self, I get walked over. I am plan B or even D. Used and abused. In other words I am nothing.

On the other hand, and here is the good part: I meat few girls from various websites. I treated both with out my usual I open the doors and all that crap.. I went in with 1. I dont give a shit and 2. I totally can care less about you attitude. Now I cant get rid of them both, eh might have worked a bit to well.

But my point is made. ASS = Respect.

selfish prick

Ok so I like to collect things like alcohol and cigars. Well not to collect, but to hold on to for a while before I enjoy it. Kind of makes it much more special. I have wine bottles that I have been holding for few years, cigars that have been in my humidor for 3+ years. Well key words is HAD.

So two weeks ago I took most of my stuff our of the house that i still own and moved it into my parents house. Knowing that my dad is an alcoholic, i left 99% if my collection at my wifes place, knowing its safe. I just brought few closed bottles that had special meaning to me. I also brought my humidor.

So bottles: 1. was from a friend who said to hold it until we meet again and then we will open it. Its a tradition i started and i been holding this bottle for 3 years now. S
Cigars: Yes i went through some emotional times so i smoked few of my cigars so i had one cigar left from the "do not touch section" its a $50 cuban Monte Crisco that I bought 5 years ago. I been saving it for something special -> first born kid, threesomes, what ever you get the point.

So how I became a selfish prick.

In two weeks time my father with out asking me, found the bottle that my friend gave me, opened it and drank half of it. I mean, lets see, there were two open bottles next to it, there were hidden, the bottle was closed.

Event 2. My uncle, a nice man, was working in my parents house, informs me, that he took a cigar out of my humidor. Humidor was next to my bottles. I mean there was only one cigar in there, in an expensive looking metal case, but he just went and fucking took it cause he didnt have $10 for a pack of smokes.

So, i lost my bottle and I lost my cigar. One would assume that I would be a bit justified in getting furious, but nooooooooo.. according to my dad I am a selfish prick.

recap

So its been a while since i wrote a blog, figure its time to do a recap on events past..


So I started to date, well if you want to call it that :)

Here is some little info:

girl1: wow talk about BO
house wife: ahh enough said
girl2: damn near raped me -- loved every second of it, but has since went a bit nuts on me.
house wife: only if her husband knew..
Already planing our wedding together.. eeeh I am still married.
girl3: distant memory
house wife: said hi to the neighbor :)
girl4: pass the knife to cut my veins
housewife: still dont know her name

ok so had some fun, learned few things, should have knows some things.

p.s. still get two texts a day from girl2...

work out

So I have been lifting heavy for 3 week straight with only 2 days break... a bit crazy but thats me...

For some reason though, Tuesday and Wednesday I had some really bad days, I could not concentrate, I could not complete any work out, I hurt my back, just a total mess.

Thursday was a rough day for.. I found the courage to talk to a friend about something, and the result, well better or worse I cant say, but time will tell. At the time i felt hurt, and i know I hurt her. I wound up smoking a pack and a half and didnt eat anything other then a smoothie after work.

But then something happened. I got home and my legs felt like i needed to run. Like a pure bred horse being led into the race track. So i changed and went to the gym, when all i planned to do was lie in bed and chill.
Got to the gym, no lifting, just an elliptical. My legs are primed, my blood is running, my heart is cool, my lungs are clear (dont know why with all the nicotine in them)
I press the on button and off I go. No few minutes to warm up and build up speed, not this time, i need to run. I slam the + buttons on both resistance and incline levels, i see it climb 4 then 5 then 6 then 10. My head seats are blasting Techno, my blood is pumping, my legs feel joy, my lungs are clean. I need more resistance as the whole machine is shaking for the way i am moving so up it goes. I raise the volume and then I hit the zone. I tune the world out, time stops, everything stops, my mind is blank, my heart is steady, my breathing is steady.

Nothing but bliss as i am lost to the world. And then it stops, WTF, the techo ends and i tune the world back in. WTF. did my phone break or restart again? hmmm no its dead, but how the was charged. Then i notice, the timer says 90 minutes. HUH? I wipe the sweat from my eyes to double, triple check, yup 90 minutes, 12 miles. WOW...

Now thats what i call a run.

Fire

So I go to therapy every Monday. I love the concept, I pay money to talk.. and oh boy do I talk. In few months that I have been going I have told this poor lady more then I have told anybody in the family. She knows more about me, then anybody alive. She is the only person who I tell EVERYTHING and not just that, I tell her the whole truth of what I feel and how I feel. My parents level of judgmentalness and desire to nit pick everything, and my moms mentality is such that over the years i clammed up. So to finally have a neutral 3d party to talk to is, well, is great. Anyway this is not were i want to take this post.

Durring this session we talked about my bucket list, my desires, how everybody thinks they know me better then i do, and then I got into the topic of playing with fire. I told her that there is something that I want. But I know that it would be playing with fire, but I dont care because I want to get burned, that I am willing to take the burn.

I expected her to talk me out of it, to tell me I was wrong, to tell me how stupid I was, cause it was what my mom would do. Instead she said, how sure are you that you want it. She told me if I can honestly answer to my self "Does the risk of pain out weight the reward then you should not deny your self, because your have been denying your self everything up until now"

wow... I guess its worth the money I pay.

you think you know better then me?

Ok so I just had a chat with my Mom and my dad. While being already a tad agitated from being yelled 3 times for shit thats out of control my parents were not better help.

So I am Jewish, which means I have a Jewish mother, which means to worry is to live, and to live is to worry. The Jewish mother will worry over everything and anything and will never pass up an opportunity to guilt trip you about it either. Of and did I mention that they are also controlling as hell?

Anyway, I came home last night from the gym, with a weired smile on my face. Instantly something is wrong, did my wife call? is it work? Its nothing mom. I mean i am not going to mention that i just spent 10 minutes listening to some porn start riding a vibrator on the Sirus radio Spice channel. So its nothing mom. Of course, thats not an answer and we go into worry mode. Then my dad is involved cause she called him 10 times today that she is worried about me that something is wrong. What ever.

So here is the thing, here is what really ticks me off. Why are most people in my life, (3 different people doubted my understanding of my feelings today) are telling me what i feel and how i should feel? What makes them more qualified then me to see whats inside of me? To see what I feel, what i want, what i crave, what i fear?

Not a damn fucking thing...

I am 32 years old, I have an MBA degree, i read a lot, I have a good job, I make decent money so is it that hard to assume that i know what I feel and what I want?

Yes I know I went through some hard times, through an emotional roller coaster, but I never lost track of what i wanted, of what i felt inside, i just lost my ability to control my emotions and dumped the shit that should have stayed private on those i care about. Lets face it folks, had I listened to the so called experts, i would be home with my wife and miserable.

Point of this rant. Stop trying to tell me how and what I feel.

to be nice or to be an ass?

So last night on the way home from the gym i was listening to some stupid chanel on Sirius radio since I could not get reception on the rock channel that i like. This woman was yapping about her having this nicest, most caring husband in the world, BUT, there is always some BUT with women. I mean seriously, you just said he is the nicest and most caring, so what the fuck is your problem?

Then, even i knew this so damn well, it hit me. Women DO NOT want nice, oh sure they moan and groan how they want to be pampered and cared for, but what they want is an ass whole. Women cant deal with nice, they walk right over it, and abuse it. Its to boring. Men, by our instincts, used to go out, find some poor animal, chase it down, kill it and bring it home. Women would stay home (cave) and bicker, jest with each other for power, for position, well more like for the position of being the mate of the strongest cave man. Those instincts are with us.

So I looked back, I have always been a nice person, caring, loving, bla bla bla and always got walked over. Me things enough of this shit... I saw what being mr. nice got me. Lets see what being an ass will get me.

TATA bitches..

Its just a car. Is it?

Its 6 am. I am out of the house, driving down the road that leads to my folks house. Coming towards me is another Jeep, one lucky enough to have a soft top. His hand comes out in a wave, and I wave back. Its a jeep thing. I feel good. I am on heading to South NJ to the first place i found on google were I can take my new toy for some dirt road driving, and maybe get some mud on it. Like my cousin said, a Wrangles is not a wrangles with out some mud on it.

My mood is like no others. I am out of the house early, not worried about a person who might or might not be grumpy, doing what I wanted, when I wanted, but its more then that, its much more than that. I am in a car that i wanted, at a price I wanted, no compromises. Well one tiny one, but it had to do with safety and my driving style.

We started to test drive cars few days back, Ford Edge, Honda Accord (the cross over one) few other cars I am not going to bother mentioning. My mom wanted that, my dad wanted something else, I just went from one opinion to another. Until I woke up Saturday morning and said, wait a fucking second. I am doing my usual crap and it has to end. Told them I want a Jeep Wrangler. They though i was nuts... Few hours later I signed the paper work. My mom loved it. My dad, well he loved that I loved it.

Two hours later... I am driving down rt 206 in middle of bumble fuck NJ. Classical Rock blasting from my Sirius Radio. I make a sharp left turn, engage 4x4, hit the gas pedal to the medal and let the fun begin.

4 hours later... One skinny dipping... one near car accident (could not run over a turtle) and tons of fun I am heading back home... Still smiling, well more like grinning like a total idiot, but who gives a shit. I am doing what I want cause for the first time in a long time I know what I want from life. My path is clear...

Damn its good to be a live.

what do we want

Ok so i have been working on this post for quite some time.. I start, i stop, i type and i delete. Just could not finish it, or start it for that matter. Its been eating at me, dying to get out, so i guess its time to finish it, or at least turn it into a multi part...

so some time back i heard "it will not be considered until you know what you want, until you know if its real or faje" what an interesting statement. I have been thinking about it for quite some time, i did what i do best... i looked at it from every angle. How can we as people figure out what we want? Hell some of us need to try 20 outfits before we pick that one, and then put on the first one we tried. We can spend weeks, months, life time figuring out what we want to do in life and then do the opposite, or wind up doing what we want.

Yet when it comes to my life, some would say i am confused and lost - thanks dad for the vote of confidence. Some say I have false feelings cause well there is nobody else... Some say i dont know what i want and need to figure it out.

To all of you all I can say is F you, with love. I know what is best for me. Took me a long time to find the guts in life to make ME happy, so nobody will tell me what I want.

I took my self to the dark place, those who had the pleasure of being around me durring that time i am sorry with all my heart. But i came out stronger, healthier, maybe even a bit smarter. I realized that i cant let anybody dicate my life for me, not any more. From now on it can only be me, on my own terms. I know that i cant let anybody else make my decisions for me. I know what I want, and I know how i want it. Painful or not, emotional or not my path is clear...
And to those who doubt me, well kiss my hairy ruski ass.

Plan B

So I sat in a meeting today, long, boring, pain the ass meeting. My mind set to listen for certain key words that would bring me back to reality, while in the mean time i was doing what I do quite a lot. Think, think, think some more, and then think more about my life. For some reason i wandered into the topic of Plan B. First i started thinking of what are my plan Bs in life. Scary that some of then I now have to implement. Others can still be kept on the shelf. Sadly, then and there I had a scary though, am I plan B to others?? Am i the backup to others? I know my manager keeps trying to play my against my co-worker, who in theory reports to me. His plan is to make sure both of us dont get to strong. Nice, they expect me work my ass of, hump all over the fucking country, and then treat me life plan b? WTF.

At that moment I heard a key word that my mind has been scanning and reverted back to the meeting. After words I tried to revisit the whole plan B idea. But stopped my self. To afraid of what I would discover.

I guess ill be thinking of it tonight when yet again sleep will avoid me.

booz

So in my life, in my family alcohol has always been a huge problem. My dad, my uncle, my grandfather have been a huge lovers of the bottle. While i like a drink or 5 i have no issues if I dont drink.


So tonight i went to visit my cousin who i have not seen in a long time. Got to see my niece and nephew. Soooo adorable. I talked to my couzin and her husband a lovely couple. He offered me an old bottle of wine and said that he is sorry but they dont have anything else since they dont drink, which i know is true. After I hung out there I had to swing by my uncles place to pic something up. There he proudly told me that he has not smoked or drank in a year. My uncle, the chain smoker and a huge boozer sober? Wow.
Then i came home. It took me all of 2 seconds to realize that my dad is drunk, again. I found half a bottle of JB in the kitchen and him acting the way he usually does when he is drunk.

So now that I am in a room after getting into a fight with him, I realize that I am in a decent mood. My uncle gave me hope then some men can actually change when they want to.

Kryptonite

So i had a long chat with my cousin today over the phone. First she tried to pry out my secret(s) which she knows about but acting like she doesnt. I returned the favor. Then the topic changed and some how we started to talk about Kryptonitw. No not the one from the movies, but real life weak spot, our heroin. Hers was out college IT profesor, Firas. Now i am not gay, or even bi, but this dude was hot. Every time she talks about him, (they never talked or even dated) she has this smile which makes me wander that while even though she is married toa great man, with great kids, what will happen if Firas enters her life.

I guess we all have this kryptonite in us, the question is do we know it a weakness or not?

double life

I was watching bones few days ago. Part of an episode was about this "cult" that only told the truth, no matter how brutal it was. It seemed like an interesting idea, to be totally and completely honest with each other. But then again will it be a good idea??

We all have secrets, some large some small but they are secrets. They sit inside of us causing hearth burn and other damage, but sit inside they must cause if they get out relationships can get ruined, friends ships can break and world will rupture.

So the question arises, if we all have secrets like that how honest are we with each other. Are there two people out there who are totally honest with each other? Are there two people out there who fully know each other? and if the answer is yes, are they happy together?

In the end some skelatons should be left in the closets.

p.s for some reason i just typed this shit up...

self review

Last night i visited a friend... a bit worried since the previous time we talked it was a total disaster.... I know the person might disagree with me but it will take a bit of time to return to were we were as friends, to let the tension die down. Yup, i am an idiot that cant keep his mouth shut some times, strange since the end of my marriage is caused by my keeping my mouth shut for to long.

So we talked about the stages of depression and life and some points were made clear, yet another point was made clear to me as my mind was winding down for the night, thanks to some medicine.

My previous "life" was suffocating me, so i changed it, or trying to anyway. No I need to isolate my self, at least for week to start. To focus on nothing but me. Selfish, yup, but necessary. I am mentally unstable, a pressure cooker that is always one second a way from a need of an emergency release. I am over weight, and hate my self for it, so I need to hit the gym. 10 years ago i could bench 300 and run 5 miles and not break a sweat. Now I smoke, drink, and probably cant run 1/4 of a mile with out having heart attack. So thinking about all that last night i realized that I hate my self for my inability to change. I guess that stops here and now.

Plan for the next week.

1. no more smoking - i have been quiting for a long time. no more time.

2. no more drinking - should be easy, since it fucks me up these days anyway

3. GYM/TREAD MILL --- I used to love it, used to be the high light of the day to get into the gym and lift. It was almost as good as sex to add an extra few pounds to the weigh pile and to lift it.

No more excuses, No more BS. Time to get my shit together and just fucking do it.

I mean common, girl prefer guys with big arms, flat stomachs, and those that can fuck for hours.

No more excuses

to drink or not to drink

So last night i has another realization. Yes, one more, one of many. Can it be that i am finally growing up?

Anyway, I cant drink. Let me rephrase, I should not drink. I like to drink in moderation, and not to sound like i am bragging, but my Russian blood gives me the ability to drink in large amounts, but I realized i should not.

Back in the day, when life was good i would get all goofy, supper supper horny, social, and believe it or not FUN. Now I get weired. I get an emotional wreck. If you actually read any of my ramblings, part of my problems in life is that i have issues letting go of my emotions. Once they are set of the leash, i have no idea how to control them. The one verbal fight i had with a friend was when i was not sober, simply cause i could not control my self.

Worst of all my engineer training that teaches me to analyze things from every point of view kicks in and i start looking at emotions from every angle which raises more emotions and more thoughts. Quick sand. I feel like i am drowning, i realize what is going on, but i cant stop... Like a run a way freight train heading for disaster.

The sad part about this, is that it does not stop once the booz out of my system. It lasts for hours, if not days after...

hmm non alcoholic beer???

I have given up

So i have been posting quite a bit but I have gotten of the topic.

Speaking from male point of view, most men, well most real men hate to loose. It drives us mad, and it drives me insane. Yet, at which point do we say to our self enough is enough, if i keep fighting then even if i do win then there wont be enough of me left to matter in the end????

Sadly there is no magic 8 ball, and no matter how many $5 palm reading you do (speaking of which, there is a palm reading lady out side my building, she cant even predict the weather, so how can she predict my future?)

Some time back, seems like fore ever, I have finally given up. I stopped fighting for my marriage. After 12 years, 6 dating and 6 married, i totally stopped fighting. The result was a total collapse. Do i feel like a complete asshole? Yup sure do. Is it getting better to deal with it? Yup. So why did I give up? Was it for love? Nope. Was it so i could go out there and fulfill my fantasy of beating Casanovas record? Nope (well maybe a bit, but most men have that fantasy)

Did I have it in my for one more fight? For one more try? Yes I did, or could have scraped up enough courage for one more. But in the end, I did it because I knew that a bit by bit there was nothing left of me. I was not the same person any more. I was not happy, I was with drawn, I lost my friends. I lost ME. So i made a call that I need to save me.

(damn it is still early for booz)

adultery

What is adultery ? Is it an act where one partner in a relationship has physical relationship with a partner outside the relationship? Yes it is. Does adultery cover the subject of mental/emotional adultery? Which one is worse?? Which one is more harmful?

Some of my friends love their partners, but are not able to keep it in their pants... I have a "friend". Now this girl is in love with her bf of some time, yet go figure she slept with another men, for no reason other then "why not". She loves her bf yet she still did. Go figure

On the other hand there is another friend, a distant distant relative who is in love with another woman yet is unable to have any intimate relationship with her because he cant bring him self to cheat on his wife. So is he not an adulterer already?

how honest are we with eachother

A good friend of mine asked me once "how truly honest are we with each other"?

Good question...

Last night i found my self out in a bar with a friend of my, well honestly his wife and my wife are friends, so i guess we are friendly by default since we have no choice... anyway he is sitting there ranting about how he cant make money fast enough, how (he runs a small IT support shop) his IT shop does these advanced projects bla bla... Which i know is all a total load of shit. So on he goes yapping about how he is this big shot, but do I question him? Do I poke holes in his stories? No i say oh wow, and oh that is great and keep sipping my beer, lost track of them towards the end. So to sum it up, we sat there both getting drunk, both lying to each other and we both knew that we are lying to each... yet we still did. So how honest are we?

Do we tell a person we love/car the truth knowing perfectly well that it will hurt or devastate them? Do we question the things they want to keep hidden the most?? Or do we pretend like we are ignorent in order to keep the piece and tranquility?

At what price does the principle of honesty between the two get compromised and ignorance, lying and false truth is more valued?

What I like...

Here I am swamped at work but all i want to do is write about me.. selfish i know, but it helps me find my focus, my balance....

So what do I like: Women, fast cars and money.........

In all seriousness though, like all red blooded men I do love women. What kind of women I like? Most would start with big boobs, tight ass, long legs, not me. I like smart women first, then how they look second. I used to know a girl, nice legs, nice chest, no brains... 5 minutes into a conversation all i wanted was to run. So i like them smart, then i care about the looks. I know most wont believe me, but its true, sides its my blog so go bugger off (I have been watching lots of BBS shows lately so starting to pick up on the lingo)

What else do I like?

I like logic, I think any and all arguments, discussions, disagreements can, and should be resolved in quiet, logical manner. Once volume level goes up I get defensive and years of avoidance that I learned from my mother kick in and I clam up. All i want to do is stop whats going on and to get a way. Sun Tzu would say that when you attack an enemy make sure you leave them a path to retreat. If you do not they will fight with a x10 resolve. The same with me, if you start yelling at me and dont give me a way out I will strike out. Not physically, its not as effective, but verbally. Have i dont this before? Oh yes, during oh so many arguments I had with my wife, in order to end I would find one of the many points I could push and push hard until she would back of. Did it ever make me feel good? Nope. (note to self: talk to the therapist about this)

Cars? nah just as long as it gets me from point A to point B.

Friends: I dont have many, but the ones I do have are the ones that I know that i can call at any time and the only response would be "i am on the way". Those are my friends and I would not trade them for the world. I also know that once this is done and settled they will be the only ones who will stand by me.

What else do I like...

Simplicity... I like when things are simple. I am network admin, I deal with network security, disaster recovery. My job is to plan for the worst, to analyze all possible points of failure. So when I come home I want things simple. To cuddle on the couch, watch TV, talk about each others day with her head on my shoulder, have sex, cook dinner, eat dinner, clean up after. What I do not want is to come home and have to watch every word I saw cause it might be considered as an attack, or what else. Simple, quiet, pleasant.

to know they self and to ignore thy self

Few hours ago i posted my first blog were i opened up directly about the inner me. Something that i have never done before. I got to admit, it left pretty raw on the inside. There is an old saying in Russia, granted it sounds better in Russian but it is - Dont pour more salt on my wounds. Sadly, I feel that it is what I must to do to my self in order to heal or at least start healing...

I am a 32 year old man, nobody cares about physical attributes, pretty successful career. Married - dont know for how much longer. No siblings, just bunch of cousins who are scattered over the world.

Few weeks ago, actually about 3-4 months, to be precise, my life changed. I had a fight with my wife, a pretty tame one by our standards, and the reasons for it is another blog, maybe... but while tame in volume it sent ripples far and wide. For the first time in year I admitted to my self that i am not happy. Oh i knew that i was not happy, just never bother admitting it, if you dont say then it is not real type of approach. So there I said... and now its real. And how real has it become, on the inside it was like the Berlin wall coming down. But instead of celebrations, everything that has been stored, blocked from the world, has come poring out... and since then I have been on an emotional roller coaster the likes 6-flags would only dream off.

The roller coaster that had me move out by the end of the following week.

I finally realized that i cant store anything on the inside, there is no room for bad or good. Half the time i am moody, the other half i am irritable, and for a bit i am happy. A good friend forced me to go to see help and it was one of the smartest things i done, cause its also one of the few things i ever done for my self by my self. You know what they say, to be able to admit that you have the problem is part of the solution to that problem...

is it time for a drink yet???

Me and generations of me and the first tears

They say that the apple does not fall far from the tree. Well, sadly, as i find my self in this stage in life i realize how true this is.

So who am I really? I am my grandfathers grandson. A great man to some, an idol to me, but a man with many flaws. He was not a smart man, not by a long shot, he was always told what, how, when and never why and he was ok with it, but he could teach a thing or two about loyalty to a German Shepard who is standing between his owner and a possible threat ready to pounce even if it means his life. He could teach about honor to those who define the word it self.

At age 15 he lied to the army recruiter and went to fight the invading Germans. Survived Leningrad, and then got badly wounded in the Baltics. From that day to his last day on this planet he had a bullet half an inch from his heart that could not be removed. For those of us that knew him, knew that when the weather was bad, or when the winter set in he was in pain.. But to the rest of the world he was a happy man.

After the war, while most would sit and cry with self pity, he set him self on a path to find his brothers and sisters and put his family together, which he did. And then he put them through school, while working multiple jobs to provide for them.

Later on in life, when i had the privileged to sit on his knee and listen to few war stories and play with his medals (my most valued possession ) I would ask:

Deda why did you do this and he would tell me: Thats cause its a mans job to do.

Deda why do you never cry when you are in pain: Men dont cry

Deda why do you never complain: Men dont complain.

He would say mens job is to do his job.

I grew up listening to that and thats what i was until the age of 30-31 when the cracks in the dam started to appear.

Next generation:

My mother, what can i say about her, loving caring selfless and selfish woman. What is the difference between a pit bull and a jewish mother? Well at some point a pit bull will leave you a lone. My mother, will never do that until she gets her way.... She does things out of love, out of care, out of deep belief that since she is my mother she knows best and i am an idiot...

From my mother i learned the art of censure, the art of avoidence, the art of keeping things hidden deep inside... And life was good up until the age of 31-32.

Last year i got a call one Sunday morning from my dad telling me that my grandmother has passed. Thats when all hell has broken... I was in JFK in 2 hours, on a flight to Israel an hour later, at a cemetery 15 hours later. I didnt stop moving, i didnt cry, i didnt complain for i could not, I had a crying mother on my shoulder, i had to be a man.

The rabi told me, my mother and her sister to come with him and pay our last respects to the body... My uncles and cousins grabbed me and told me not to go because i would not handle it so i listened to them and stayed. I got a bit a head of my self here, while my grandfather was my idol and my hero this woman was my life, while i hated her for how she ruled the family as a king, i also loved her more then anything.

Once she was buried, all the men who are not direct family (some jewish tradition) began taking turns with the shovel and covering the grave... Yet again i was denied....

Few hours later, after the ceremony where these family members stood and told how much they loved her and all that bull shit, (where were they when she was sick? where were they when they didnt need anything?) we came back to home... Knowing i needed to be a lone, that i need to stop moving, i took a bottle of some alcohol, pack of smokes and wandered of into the Negev desert (The first dunes started 50 feet from uncles house, the city of Arad is built in the middle of the desert) and sat down on the rock and stopped moving for the first time in 24 hours and allowed the days events to catch up to me... To be honest i stopped moving for the first time in 20 years. My first grandfather died, i shower no emotions, my second grandfather died, i showed no emotion, now my grandmother died, and it brought me to a stand still. I sat on the stone for few hours with no control over emotions until i was ready to return to society, to be strong for my mother, my aunt, my couzins...

While i recovered that time, the first cracks in the damn showed up and they would just get worse...

But thats another story................