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I'm not here right now, leave your name and number after the beep.......

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Open letter

You think you know 
what that word means
You think you 
know me
you think flipping over your table
had even occurred 
to me
The thought of hurting 
you or yours
never even came to me
don't you have any idea
how much you and they
mean to me
you wonder why I keep bringing up
my family
how the fuck can you/they
not see
you/they are the only thing 
that means a fucking thing
to me
no, I'm not angry
I'm sad and scared
of trying to live
When everything I hear
and see
tells me to ask you
to end it all
for me...
because I cant, your in my way

Christopher McQueeney  4:29 P.M 11/27/13


Brian Miller said...

ugh man...
i am sorry for what happened and what you are going through right seems to be crashing in...hang in there man

kj said...

Chris...I am so sorry so much has unraveled. Let your strongest healthiest voice win this battle. Please don't give up. And please don't drink.
And don't let that medical diagnosis or any labels define you. Come back, Chris. Together strong


kj said...

Chris, I've been thinking . Look at this differently: not that you are a victim but that you can get through this. Let whatever misjudgements you 'be made yourself (you cannot fall asleep and leave little children unsupervised) be the winds of change for yourself

And: you cannot drink

Hope this comment helps not hurts


Wander said...

Hey KJ I am gladdned by your comments...
I don't think I am a victim, just have had some very fucked up things happen that were beyond my scope of experience...the thing is I have kept fairly quiet about the whole thing...And if I could have stayed awake I would have, I'm not a rookie, I just couldn't fucking stay awake, had no reserves and I have been fucking punished for it...not a victim but fuck, don't you think that having to go for over three months without seeing them or hearing their voices is excessive??? for fucks sakes their mom has them flipping over backwards for her but I cant even get them to entertain letting me have a moment with them and I'm treated like a fucking leper that just clubbed a baby harp seal on my way to eat baby chickens while pooping on a Christian alter...It is funny how almost everyone I talk to assumes that the state my life is in is as a result of alcohol or drugs...even try to pin things on me that other's do. People seem to need there to be a reason things happen, i.e. if something bad happens you must have done something bad to deserve it, or that you didn't pray...but if something good happens it is life telling you "good going! how do you like them apples?" you know sometimes bad things happen, leaving you open to other bad things happening and at times a bad choice may be the only good option left to you. I have quite an extensive education in drug and alcohol treatment, invested thousands of hours in study, and more than that trying to prove that none of that info related to me...I never could, so I accepted that and went about repairing, rebuilding, and in some cases creating from scratch those things necessary to be a person I can be comfortable with. Then God made it readily clear that I had a life that was full of unfair assumptions, judgments steeped in contempt and pity, that have been stripped away violently. I can in some ways, and to a certain extent take fault for the assumptions of some in my life, "we step on the toes of others and seemingly without provocation they retaliate" My past established for some a distrust that borders on the edge of psychotic, but I am not the same person and if they can't see that the fault lies in them not me, just because the past has done you wrong(in all of it's various aspects) does not exempt you from stepping up and repairing the damage that causes such unrest in your life. It wasn't I that threw you so out of kilter, it has been my life that has been destroyed (not beyond repair) not yours stop being a fucking martyr, stop acting like my wounds are yours...look closer, that is your hand rocking the cradle I'm not even in the neighborhood...hell I may not even be in the same zip code...I'm not asking you to pat my ass, just asking you to help me carry some sand bags to shore up the levy that is protecting my last bastion of normalness from yet another act of god, you know, beyond human control...because at times it takes a village, if only you show up to the barn raising party your tools are gonna get wet when the rain comes...
Lol there is a rant for a rain drenched day...
I have to say that I have been graced by the kindness of the grandmother of a close friend of mine (she happened to be around ne often while all this shit compiled in my life...probably the closest perspective aside from mine), You probably wont read this, but thank you so very much for your kindness Betty, without the food you have given me I could very well have starved and without you welcoming me to your home I may not have had the chance to suit up and show up when the time comes...some acts of god are not disasters, some are kind words and a plate of food...(yes that was a nod)