I’m actively making plans to finish the “What I’m Looking For” series, and I realized that there are a couple of posts still up on Dead Charming that need to be over here so I can refer back to them at the appropriate time. Also, I promised my mother that I’d post this one somewhere she could go and find it, so this repost serves double duty.
This is the first piece of non-fiction I ever seriously tried to write, and honestly without this I would have never started blogging. It is, in its essence, the first blog post I ever wrote. Much of the premise behind My Bad Pants is derived from my thought process when I wrote this and how I felt about it after I stood up and read it at a funeral.
What follows is the first thing I ever wrote that I was proud of writing…
[edit: This is another post brought over from Dead Charming, this one is relevant to some of the posts coming up in my “What I’m Looking For” sequence, so think of this as background material. This is not funny. This is not light-hearted in even minimal ways. This post is about the saddest and most challenging personal experiences of my life.
Many people have gone through far worse, and I’m certainly not trying to claim some kind of prize for a hard knock life, because I’ve had it INCREDIBLY easy…but to my surprise, this made a couple of people cry; and I’d never seen one of them cry before…so take that as a warning of sorts…or something. If you choose to skip this, please know I won’t take it personally. It’s long, it’s the worst moments of my life, and the new material at the end isn’t there to even remotely “make it better,” even with eleven years of distance from the events.]
During job interviews and on internet quiz memes there’s a question that comes up more often than I think most people really want to hear the answer. I’ve avoided it many times before, but tonight I guess I’m finally ready to talk about it at large…to try and explain how, exactly, a reasonably normal white-child-of-privilege ends up in his early thirties, struggling emotionally just to climb out of bed every morning.
I’ve probably been asked “What’s the most difficult thing you’ve ever done?” about two dozen times that I can think of since July 24th 1999. I think I might have answered it honestly twice.
So, what follows is the most full and complete answer to that question I can compose with almost a decade of distance since the events began to transpire.
The worst days of my life…
You might notice that after some suggestions about readability and the overwhelming appearance of some of my posts I’ve change things up a bit around here. I’m quite pleased with the final effect, although deep down I feel a bit sneaky hiding the real length of my posts behind a break. Oh well.
- Tonight starts the new season of funnies on TV, and I’m watching How I Met Your Mother (my third favorite show on network television) plus the good stuff that comes after it while I wait for Castle (my second favorite show on network television). I kinda miss having Big Bang Theory (my favorite show on network television) on Mondays as well, but thanks to the power of DVR, it’s not like it actually matters most of the time anyway.
- Less fun, I’ve had some issues recently with stuff being hijacked off of deadcharming.com which escalated over this last weekend. In order to prevent those posts from appearing abandoned, I’ve decided to repost the choice pieces here and eventually mothball that old site altogether.Which also happens to let me TOTALLY cheat out tonight and repost something, thereby fulfilling my wordcount requirement and still letting me watch primetime. Yay for cheesing the rules!
To be fair, I’ve significantly re-edited this post, as well as composed a new afterward that explains how things stand today compared to how things stood when I first wrote it.
A story of love, regret and remembrance…