Thursday, October 18, 2007

My days in Exile

I'm writing this articles as a way to pass the time, and also to perhaps share with all of you a bit of my life, my current state of mind, my feelings, and my beliefs. Although my current situation is not good, I'll try to avoid getting too “Emo” on all of you.

Not many people today really understand the term “exile”. Sure they know the definition, but to know the meaning of “exile” is not the same as understanding what it's like to be exiled. In modern times the word really sees no use, but I do believe I fit the bill.

I have, against my will, been uprooted from the place i called home, and taken elsewhere, separated from my wife, and my two children. I Am not homeless, yet in a way that would almost be better, because I'd have my freedom then. I have a roof over my head, but must fend for my own food. Don't get me wrong I'm not complaining about the generosity of my host's in that respect, it's the strings attached to this deal that make it hard.

I'm cut off from everyone and everything I love, I can see my wife & children but once or twice a month, wich i guess is better than nothing, but still each day away from them breaks my heart a little more. The people I'm staying wit,h allow me here, only begrudgingly, they would literally rather see me stay in a crack house, than to stay here (yes they actually tried this). My phone access is restricted, I have no internet connection. I can go to the library and use the computers there, only as often as they will let me. All my possessions save a few are in storage. My computer, 3 books, and two complete outfits of clothing are al i have in my 8x10 room. Ironic that my room shares the same dimensions as most jail-cells eh?

The rules of the house are not many, but are illogical, end designed specifically to make me feel worse about myself. Constantly I'm reminded of my weight problem, one of my hosts even claims that he becomes physically ill at the site of me, and refuses to speak to me directly anymore.

I have no transportation, No Identification, I can not even apply for government assistance programs, because I can not prove who where I live. As such i am almost completely cut off from the world, I can not have a Tv or Radio, Even though i own each I'm not allowed to have them here. I have been offered the use of a Television in the basement, they even have satellite. They also know that because of my back injury, my weight and other factors, it's extremely painful and almost impossible for me to traverse it. I make an attempt about once a week, and usually require several Alieve afterwards.

These factors put together make me feel almost entirely cut of from the world. As i have little to know knowledge of current events, I have no way to contact any of my friends, contact with my family is limited.

My entire world is this room. I know what it means to be truly alone. My room consists of a shoddy table which I brought myself, and a small cheap bed. I've also been given a a small 4 drawer dresser, though with the limited clothes I have I'm not sure why. Not a moment passes that I don't fully understand the situation I'm in. often I blame myself, sometimes I don't. The truth of it is that there are many factors that converged at once, to create this predicament, any one of which could have tipped the scaled either way.

One of my biggest problems, is a lack of hope. This has been true for several years now. I'm a smart man, very smart by some accounts, yet i can find no real way to improve my situation. It's funny when people give you suggestions, they expect you to immediately go “oh my god i never thought of that” if the give you advice, and you tell them you've already tried that, it becomes “Oh your full of excuses” or “you're just not trying hard enough”. And I'm not talking about dumb people, I think that's the problem , many of these people are themselves very intelligent, and somehow though, they can't seem to conceive, that another person, already had the same idea as them, or that it may just not work.

So I it here, typing, Existing, but with nothing to look forward to, with no joy in my life. I busy myself, with tedious and repetitive tasks. A few days ago, I renamed, sorted, and organized into separate folders, over five-thousand Jpeg's. All these files were by the same artist, i simply had nothing better to do.

To add to my own personal problems, my mother faces very difficult times, the man she was in love with, has broken her heart, and also caused her financial ruin. She's now moving back in with my father whom she divorced a short while ago. Truthfully their marriage was over long before that, probable has to do with him being an Alchoholic that beat us both for as long as I can remember. It was less than a year ago that she showed up at my doorstep, her arms covered with bruises, asking me if she could spend the night there, my dad had gotten drunk & mad again. She literally cried herself to sleep on my couch. Now she's returnin g there, because financially she has no other recourse.

My wife and children, are doing alright. They are stayign with my Wife's mother & step father. There isn't a lot of room, but they are being well taken care of. My son, in my absence, is learning to eat with a spoon, he's almost three years old. Although he would occasionally use utensils before, he's apparently comming along well now, eating bowls of cereal with milk, without spilling any. He's also been stung by a bee, for the first time. We found out he's allergic to them, and we have to be careful from now on. My daughter is getting more teeth in, she's the younger of my two children. My wife tells me that just the other day they were waiting on the bus and she was calling for me. I cried for over an hour.

I'm not really sure what else to say. On one hand writing about it ,can be of value, generally it lifts the weight off the shoulders. At the same time though, half my time is spent trying not to focus on my situation, lest I become overly depressed and do something monumentally stupid. Writing also forces me to think about it, to focus on it sharply, so it's a double-edged sword.

So dear readers, I leave you now, to return to my exile. I'll refrain from saying anything cliché like “Don't take things for granted” or “Enjoy what you've got” or any of that nonsense, I'll simply bid you farewell.