With Every New Soul Comes A New Beginning, With Every New Beginning Comes A New Tale

Protective. I have always been that person who wants to look after people. Even when I was a bad guy I wanted to make sure that people were safe, well, at least most of them if I have to be honest with you. It is built into who I am, forged by what I came from. I suppose the ultimate deal sealer is when my Ducks came along. I didn’t know what protective was until then, I just thought I knew because I was the Big Bear. When your newborn son has his hands wrapped in your beard and you are whispering to any Goddess that will hear you to forgive you in advance for the violence you will do in the name of protecting this perfect creature, you then that you are protective, or at least that is how it worked for me.

It has caused trouble, yes. I have failed people I wanted to protect, yet. I have even hurt the people I swore I would never see harm come to. I am an imperfect thing and I easily and readily admit to that. I am ashamed of transgressions and things aplenty but what I am not ashamed of, what I will never once be ashamed of, is the effort. I may fail, but by the Goddess and the Darkness That Eats All Things I have never once stopped trying to keep all of them safe. Even the pain I caused was horribly misguided efforts to save them from things that turned out to be lies or delusions of mine and mine alone.

If you know pretty much at all you will know that the friend base I have is very wonderfully tilted towards the gender(s) I am not. I do not have anything against males as a whole, it just seems to be that I make friends easier with people who are not that thing exclusively. If one had to analyze it I suppose it has to do with a need to replace the evil of my mother with a positive feminine influence that I know is not a danger to my psyche, even if that danger is PTSD screaming from the darkest corners of my brain. I am sure there are some other much more pertinent psychological things as well, but it is a choice I make consciously and I think that is the important take away here.

Why do I bring that up? I do because almost exclusively, the people I know that do not need protecting are these wonderful people. There’s is a strength that I envy and fear and I think it is a powerful thing in mind and spirit both. I look up to them, put almost all of them on almost impossibly tall pedestals that I then make ever higher with effusive praise and constantly telling them I love them. It is a balancing act I do not do well and from time to time I need to reevaluate and the line gets drawn again. It is a constant thing, it is what my mind and my heart do and even if I could change it I absolutely would not because it is the way it has always been and they are great and glorious in my eyes even if they are not in their own.

Anyway…

Today is for the creative Bear to scream from mountaintops high and oceans deep. Sweet Siobhan will be back and Pater Noster, which I may have totally forgotten about the other day. Something else as well, something bubbling up, not yet formed as whole. The newness of a thing is not to be rushed lest it be spoiled and we all know a first cannot be repeated.

RAWRZ

Maybe I Can Look And, Every Now And Again, See The Asshole In The Room Is Not Actually The One Doing The Looking

I have been sending the vibes I want to receive into the Universe as of late and, truthfully, I am in a better overall mood than I have been in years. I laugh a little easier, I laugh a little later. I have quieted some of the worst of the demons that are daily. most of them tell me I am not a “real friend” because I do not get to see My Tribe My Circle, My People, nearly as often as I would like to, or as often as they would like to see me. I feel guilty for this, I have to, it is an Irish thing. However. I think perhaps I have been able to circumvent a lot of the worst of it by the following thought.

Do I want friends who would “hate” me if I don’t get to see them as often because life or money or sick or migraine get in the way? Do I want “friends” who would judge me and shake their heads in disdain and anger over me not being able to cum and grab a beer with them?

Fuck no I don’t want those friends.

Know what though? I don’t have those kinds of friends either.

While I can and will not guess the gamut of emotional responses they feel when I say I can not attend a thing, again, I would imagine disgust for my absence and a feeling of ire is not at the top of the list. These are people that I trust, I love deeply and confide the deepest parts of my soul in. I am either a really shitty judge of character, which history has proven more than once that I am, or my diagnosed anxiety disorder is feeding me continual lines of fucking bullshit and while they miss me I hope, I am nearly certain they don’t spit on the floor when they hear my name being mentioned.

So I will plow through the things I need to get through and then I will see them again and I will hug the ones that want it, lift and spin the ones than make the cutest noises when I do that thing and tell them all how much I think of them and how wonderful they actually all are, because, at the end of the day, they are the people that keep me in a position to be..me.They are the ones telling me I am not a fraud, a fake, a con. They are the ones who tell me when I am being an ass so I can correct my behavior and, most importantly, they are the ones who will hug me just as hard as I hug them when I see them.

Appreciation

It is almost half past one. I have no air conditioner, and it is hot in my bedroom.

That being said, I think it is time I wrote something to detract from me wiping the sweat off my face in the middle of the night.

I have the most amazing group of friends you can ask for. They are this precious gift that I try to cherish and appreciate as much as I can every second of every day. Truly, the stories I could tell about them would make them blush and get really mad at the same time, so maybe I will skip that portion of the presentation, but I do have a way of telling you all about them without mentioning any of them by name or even hinting at what they do or any other revealing information.

Nothing fancy or showy, just a little story about me, and I think we all know which one.

I was sitting here, kind of like I am now actually. Overheated, tired and not able to sleep, and deep in my head over a lot of things both real and conjured. I reached out, they listened. Sometimes with the patience of a saint, sometimes just long enough to smack me and tell me to stop it. Sometimes with brutal logic other times with sweet emotions, sometimes a little of both.

They dug me out of a hole of my own design. They custom made a ladder for me to get out of the hole, gave me a soundtrack to listen to as I did and screamed encouragement to me until their faces were red and their voices raw. They stayed awake with me until the light came back through the windows and only then when they knew I was safe did they back away with a smile, ready to do it again the next second if need be.

I know I am needy, so very much so. I am a sad little panda sometimes, and other times I need to literally be told to maybe stop drinking coffee and come back to the plane of existence the rest of the world is on.

I love them, and even though I try to tell them as often as I can that I love them, I never really feel like I say it close to enough. I know it isn’t a contest, there isn’t a running tally.

Although, you see…

There have been catastrophic losses in my life and each time I wished I could have said, done, touched, laughed, cried…anything one more time. Done better. Been stronger. All of the what if games you ply in your head.

I can’t anymore. I can’t.

So I tell them I love them, I tell them I appreciate them and that they are the best parts of me that are not my children and I simply need to believe that is enough.