I woke from the dream in a cold cold sweat
I was full of doubt and deep regret
For suddenly it was all so clear to me
There was nothing left in which to believe

And everything I loved and feared 
Had all at once disappeared
Oh, everything I loved and feared 
Had all at once disappeared

I had a dream today while I was in traffic. Not an actual dream, though it felt like one, but a day dream. I was lost in thought looking at the sky, and when I came back from wherever I went, I was confused, and noticed that over the last couple weeks I’ve slowly been falling into a depression.

When I was showering just now it hit me, this song hit me. I’ve been full of doubt and regret recently, I even sent some apologies to people I regret how things ended with earlier this week. Something hit me last week and it made me doubt that I can accomplish all I hope to. Instead I’ve had this overwhelming desire of running away. The shitty thing about running away is if you ever come back, your problems are right where you left them.

I talked yesterday about going to church, and I’ll be honest I didn’t start going because I wanted a better relationship with god, I started going because I just wanted something to believe in. I had so many conversations with my boss and I wanted to understand him better, and he’s a man of faith. I do understand him better, but still struggling with something to believe in. It’s not that I do or don’t believe in god, it’s simply that I’m still unsure.

I started going because I wanted something to believe in and along the way I met people and built stronger bonds with people that believe in me, feels like a selfish endeavor at this point. When I walk into church on Sunday, shake pastor josh’s hand, give him a hug, he asks how I am. Nobody ever asks how you are and means it anymore, but he does. He’ll ask and then he’ll give you this look, like he’s looking to see if you’re giving the courteous answer or the real one.

Same thing happens when I see my boss, I give him a high five and a hug, hug his kids and his wife. I stand there and awe when they talk to each other. His kids are young but they speak 3 languages. They speak german to their mom because that’s where she’s from, french to their dad because his parents are from Haiti, and english to me. My boss will speak to his kids in french, but his wife in german, then just pick up our conversation in english like it’s nothing. One of the most intelligent beams of light I’ve ever met.

My boss recently started doing this thing, a thing I think more people should do, but everyone gets weird around the word. Whenever we part ways he says “love you” or if we talk on the phone that’s how he ends the conversation. He doesn’t do it to make a big thing, he does it because he means it, and just wants to make sure everyone feels that, and knows that.

I told him I wanted to move to Toronto but I didn’t know how, he didn’t love the idea. He said as a socialist country there’s not a ton of opportunity for prosperity there, they try to keep everyone at the same level. I’m not sure he knows that I’m slowly allowing my dream of opening a restaurant fade, and I don’t want to tell him, because I don’t want him to be disappointed.

I don’t believe I was brought into this world to prosper. I wasn’t supposed to be brought into this world at all. They recommended my mom terminate the pregnancy because if she didn’t one or both of us could die when it was time to give birth. I wasn’t developing properly and they thought if I did live through birth she wouldn’t, and that I would be mentally retarded. I was born mostly healthy. I had to have a pillow on one side of my head for the first year or so of my life because the muscles in one side of my neck didn’t develop, but otherwise healthy.

Sometimes I wonder why my mom made that decision, why she didn’t terminate. It’s a part of my life I’ll never understand. I understand that it was maternal instinct to fight for me, but not many years later she abandoned me for a needle anyways, so why fight?

My dad tries to brag as if he fought for me, but he doesn’t get to have credit, he wasn’t the one in danger. Sometimes when I go through these depressive episodes I think about my mom, and my dad. Growing up before the drugs my mom slept a lot. She was a stay at home mom and didn’t really do anything. When I was 5 I didn’t think anything of it because I was fucking 5. Now when I look back I realize that she was in a deep depression. Sometimes I wonder if it was my fault. Sometimes I know part of it was my dad’s fault. My dad was controlling and abusive, still is. He’s a fragile man, and he can’t face himself or take responsibility for his problems, so he takes them out on my mom.

The only thing that makes me want to get married sometimes, other than being a hopeless romantic, is to love someone the right way. To allow them to freely be themselves, and support them with anything and everything they want to do. Sometimes I feel like I owe it to my mom to get married, and love a woman the way every woman deserves to be loved. Nobody deserves what my dad is. No woman on this earth.

My mom had a career before she got pregnant with me. She was a surgical tech at mass eye & ear. After she had me she never went back to work, and sometimes I think not going back led her to depression. Was it taking care of me that caused her not to go back? Or did my dad use me as an excuse to keep her locked up in the house?

I apologize for the dark turn this took, really it was just a long winded way of saying;

For suddenly it was all so clear to me
There was nothing left in which to believe

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.