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catching up
July 23, 2007
tired of censoring things. i have been writing, but i've pulled them back down as soon as things calmed down.
i don't know which me is real right now. more and more, the majority of my time is spent as a tightly wound spring. events, many the consequences of my own choices, some out of my control, keep winding, tighter and tighter. throughout the days and nights, i'm fighting it, trying to keep my grip on it all, when i just want to scream, cry, pound away at the walls, pound away at myself. those that think i'm weak to feel this way are idiots - they don't know what it takes to keep it all down.
i feel all these things. i feel the increasing hopelessness. it's all very real. sometimes i write about it, and post it. people around me see the signs, and it affects my relationships with them. many care, some only care about how it affects them.
the cycle rolls on, and i get tired. the spring relaxes, more from fatigue and resignation than anything actually changing. i'm sapped of strength, and then it's just dark and empty.
eventually, i'll get enough energy and will back to try to rouse myself. it takes longer and is more difficult every time.
when i do, i feel bad about how i feel, and i feel guilty and conspicuous for talking about it. i want to have hope, because if i have none, then there's really not much point, is there?
neither side is more real than the other - the anger and despair are powerful, and even later don't seem entirely irrational as they once might have. and the calmer, fitter, happier, more productive side is all that's worth carrying on. so which is real? can they coexist in me? it sure doesn't feel like it.
either way, no more censoring. i spend enough time surrounded by silence, and i spend enough time listening quietly to everything raging in my heart and head. people are going to think what they want to about me. they might as well know it all.
july 14
it's weird having the run of this place, here at 7:30am on a Saturday morning. the law firm is generally quiet and dead even in the middle of the workday, and there are still people that i've never seen come out of their offices. the hallways are even generally empty and silent.
but now, there's no noise at all, and the lights are out. no receptionist, and the flat panel t.v. in the lobby is black. and i'm here.
i was supposed to run 14 miles this morning. i got up later than i should have, burned my last two pieces of bread in the jacked-up toaster, and got ready for the run. my mind doesn't care anymore, my body's not in shape for it, and my heart wasn't in it at all, but in my attempt to continue coaching, i knew i needed to be there.
late last week, i swallowed my pride to some extent and sent an email to the two owners of Rogue. they had made noises before about talking at some point, and i tried to be diplomatic and ask if we could make good on that offer. they lacked the decency to respond, which doesn't surprise me. when she called me into the office back in April, she didn't even want to tell me why i was being asked to resign - i pretty much had to hound her for a couple of minutes to tell me. she finally did tell me, that it was all about a mistake i made in my personal life, before they asked me to coach for them, that despite the guilt i'll always feel was absolutely none of anyone else's damned business. at the time i still apologized, explained the situation, but they didn't care. she even stooped at one point in an email to some ridiculous, holier-than-thou personal remarks that were, fortunately, made almost funny by her usual mangling of the English language.
i was supposed to start coaching with a group called Move Through Cancer in late April - i still had that, and i clung to it. then i got the email that the MTC board had voted to "move in a different direction". when i asked for the real story, i was told that MTC uses facilities loaned by Rogue, and that Rogue had asked them not to let me coach on the premises.
this morning, i drove to the meeting place for our run. my friend called, and she was late, and would try to meet us on the trail. i got my gel, locked up the car, and walked down the street through all the runners, alone and in groups.
i saw a group being coached by one of the best running coaches around Austin, a good man and an asset that Rogue had also stupidly let go. he had a number of runners still faithful to him. he has the benefit of being a great runner himself, and an experienced and well-known coach, in addition to just being a great guy. he has lots of options.
none of my people were there. after several minutes, Chuck showed up. he went to stretch while we waited to see if anyone else would show. no one did. Amy called, was running late, and would meet us on the trail along the way.
i saw Rogue runners come in. i saw the last coach i trained with at Rogue. she smiled and waved, which did not in any way make up for her absolute failure to return the email i sent to her in April. i saw people with the group training for the Vegas marathon in December, a group i had been one of the original supporters of. i was told in April that i could still train with Rogue. but, when you're treated like a criminal, and people won't look you in the eye, and people stop talking to you because they "don't want to be involved," and the asshole coach that you and others assume played a role in my firing says he cares about you but, hiply quoting a line from "Goodfellas", "has to turn his back on [me] now," hanging around is a pretty shitty option.
i should note that when i confronted him a month or so ago, admittedly drunk and a bit hysterical, and asked him if it was him that got me fired, he would never answer the question. coward.
and now, much as it hurts, much as there's still that big empty space that i had carved out of myself to make coaching and that institution such a driving force in my life, i can say it with complete conviction - Fuck Rogue. Fuck the cowards and the backstabbers who didn't have the decency to face me, to own up to their parts in things, to ask me for my side, to treat me with the same compassion, care and respect i had always shown them. Fuck them.
still, this morning, no one else showed. i felt bad for Chuck, but i felt no desire to run, and not even the motivation to force myself to just do it, like i so often do, and like all runners have to learn to do. i let him go, and i went back to my car, and now here i am, up on 15, looking north up Brazos, up San Jacinto, cars and buses just now making an appearance.
i didn't want to just go home, where i would either try to stay asleep for as long as possible, or start drinking. if alcohol didn't make me feel so sick, especially after that night a month ago, i might just be drunk all the time. so, i came in to make up some hours. i had taken off Monday afternoon for an interview with a state agency for a permanent job. it would be the step backward after the bold, but mostly reckless move over a year ago of quitting my job, and trying to quit the law.
i had interviewed for another job weeks ago. i had applied online, because i met the stated requirements, and the money was amazing, at least for me. it was in a realm i never really thought i'd occupy in an occupation i don't want to be in. i was surprised to get a phone interview, then an actual interview with four senior staff at this small health insurance company.
the environment was almost calculated to assure a lack of stimulation. quiet, austere, and cheap. i ignored it - i need a permanent job, and the money... i couldn't help but think of what i could do with the money. i knew i'd dislike the work, and the environment, and working for a health insurance company was a potential sell-out of my beliefs. but what have my beliefs gotten me? what of what i want have i had the strength and skill to get? what of what i love have i been able to hold on to, whether it was eventually lost by my own failures or someone else's?
so, i though, take the money. just take the fucking money and buy a car and an iPhone and a condo, anything bright and shiny to distract me.
as of this past Wednesday, i still hadn't heard from them. i had sent thank you cards to all four interviewers, and sent emails to two of them, which they had not responded to. i called one of the interviewers, the Vice President of Human Resources. he said that they hadn't had a chance to talk about it or make any decisions, because the CEO has been out of town. nope, no decisions. i said i was glad to still be in the running, and i looked forward to hearing from them.
i got home wednesday night, and the rejection letter was in my mailbox.
cowardice, carelessness, deceit. you don't get what you give, so maybe you start giving less, and what you get back probably doesn't change all that much.
take the fucking money. i'm here to make up time, because i'm paid hourly, and i need the money just to try to get my finances back to normal so that... so what? so fucking what?
i need to run so that... what? so fucking what?
i need to give a shit so that... what? so fucking what? i tried before to do things right, and what did that get me, when i made one mistake?
just take the fucking money, because someone else will. just take what you want, because everyone else does.
Posted by Rob at July 23, 2007 10:49 AM