SNAFU

Another Friday night laying here looking at my ceiling. I don’t know what to say, what to write, but I know I need to do something. Men are not emotionally intelligent, and we sure as hell do not know how to handle them. I’d rather break bones than feel emotion some days. When I feel this way I often write. Next one will be light, promise.

This week I saw the strongest person I know cry when I touched her hand. She reached out, when I held her hand I looked into her eyes. I saw a pain I can not describe as her countenance broke, tears streaming from her face. She didn’t make a sound. Is there anything more heartbreaking then a soundless cry? It’s as though the person crying knows no one wants to hear them. I left completely broken inside, and angry at God.

My daughter went home to her mum today. Thousands of times now I have watched her and her brother before her, get out and walk away. I think I’ve wiped tears away 90% of those times. Fuck half time. Then I think of my brothers, who get to see their daughters much, much less than half time.

I see my son in front of his computer till all hours of the night doing engineering with next to no help from the University. He does labs with materials he finds around the house. I’m sorry everyone, Teachers are not the heroes, students are. I will never again say that those who have fought through University haven’t worked a “real” job. I worked very hard as a teen, but nothing like what my son is doing. It’s easy to do manual labour with friends, having fun, making money. Try Engineering Math with deadlines, and virtual teachers.

I drive to Airdrie and see a missing girls face on a Billboard. I try to burn it into my head, just in case I see her. I know I never will. I think about what her parents must be feeling. It’s an uncomfortable thought, but not thinking it doesn’t make the girl any less lost.

I get home and across the street there is an ambulance in front of a home. I know the person. He’s fucking awesome, always helping me and my son out. Today he’s not doing so well.

“As long as I’ve known you, you have gone to dark places.” an old friend messages me.

She’s right. I will not apologize. She doesn’t ask me too, she tells me it’s ok. That means a lot. Thank you, Tanya.

Can we all just cut the Bullshit? Can we stop pretending? It isn’t all good. We are all a mess. All of us. I don’t care who you are, I know you are hurting. Your parents are ill, kids are sad, partner depressed, bills unpaid, health fading, whatever. Go ahead and post the happy Facebook stuff but I will also “like” the horror show we all know is playing in the background, should you choose to post it. It’s not drama, it’s truth.

That’s what we call it right? Drama. Attention seeking. We mock them. Have we not evolved enough to know by now that attention seeking behaviour is a cry for help? Keep mocking that and soon the person will be crying, no sound.

One of my favourite movies is the “Memphis Belle”. It’s the story of a Bomber and her crew in WW2. They are embarking on their final run, and cloud cover over the target delays the flight. Upon hearing the news one of the crew members calls out, “SNAFU”. Then they all say in unison, “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” They are a brotherhood, and they are in it together.

I wish we could get there. We have the “Let’s talk” day, but has anyone ever heard anyone talk? Seems to me to be some goofy corporate virtue signalling. We need to start actually talking. Let’s stop saying everything is ok. Maybe we shouldn’t be living and let living. Maybe we should start asking each other hard questions. Maybe it should be ok to answer, “Not good.” when asked, “How are you doing?”.

Positivity is huge, but can we be honest about the fucking mess we are all in? Maybe if we were more open about the swamp we are in, we could all climb out together.

Tonight my sister is alone in a hospital in the middle of nowhere. She’s in isolation. She can’t walk. She has no phone and is in a stark, stark room. Her fucking remote doesn’t work, so she can’t even change the bloody channel. So if you have more faith left than I, please say a prayer for her. For my friend. For the missing girl. For all the kids struggling with school and work. For yourself. For me. For all those in pain. If you stop and look around, they are everywhere. It’s SNAFU.

If you read this far, ty.

Tris.