One thing I got going for me, is that people don't realize that any and all circumstances that could come up in work or regular life can be shot down to level 1 urgency with a few looks at my baby man Max. I check out his pictures and I'm cool, calm, centered, and your problems have been downgraded.

What is the compulsion forcing me to exist in this world? I don't get it. I've always wanted to be a hermit, this blog is evidence to that. And I have all the reason in the world to give up and retire to a cave and waste away with just my thoughts. I have a pivotal tragedy that sticks with me every hour of every day. My one hope at hope extinguished. So why do I keep trying? Why do I push on towards moderate success? 

6 Months since my Maxy baby went to Angel land in the sky.

I like to occasionally turn to my old friend Doestoevsky:

I was conned. It's hard to give someone the benefit of the doubt. You tell them about you and who you are and how you're different and why you're not normal, and they tell you they understand and that's great. They read what you want http://endlessmike03.xanga.com/472760367/item/, in fact they read all you ever wrote, and still they stick around. And you hope they're truthful and hope it really is you that they'd be with, but in the end, they want you to be like everyone else. Despite all you've been through, it becomes just a few button clicks on a relationship status. Through the worst times of your life, or that anyone could have in their lives. That's all it is. Never trust, never.

A couple of months into working up in the midwest type Chicago thing and I've learned some stuff. The most thing I've learned is that life is hard

Disclaimer: my desire to write/create died with my innocence so I can mostly just go stream-of-consciousness in blogs now.
I'll be living in Chicago the next 6 months. Working at a refinery in NW Indiana. So far, so good. Both facets of that life have great energy. I love the field type work and all that comes with it. Being able to go out and see a real live giant unit that represents hours and hours of work is amazing. Seeing a little diagram on a P&ID become an enormous tower or exchanger. I don't even know if I like engineering, but I appreciate that.

Then living in Chicago (About a 17 mile drive, can vary greatly in time depending on traffic) is just like automatic vacation switch. You can walk outside and absorb the energy whenever you want. Nothing I like more than walking and listening to an ipod (I did this for a couple of years in college, walking four or so miles a day to and from school and back around again, and it was awesome). Just geting home and degragging with a stroll will be nice. I'll learn this stuff soon and have time on weekends to enjoy the touristy things with my significant other. But it will help my health and attitude regardless.
I do wish I was in the parallel universe with Max, taking care of him, working, living that life. But I decided this was a good way to help my mind decompress and get away from all that ingratiated pain. Max wouldn't want me in pain. I know that because he's my son, so he'd think like me.

Shit man. We'll see how things end up. I'm too old for positive hope. I don't hae big dreams. I did once but they were smashed. Tough tough tough.

Even if a book or movie has the sole center of the plot based around loss, or death, or grief. They can't capture what I've felt. It just can't.  Like we saw Batman the other weekend. Batman was sad from his woman's death and stayed inside for 8 years, going decrepit and living up on life.

But the longing and long I have for Max is indescribable - litteraly. It can't be described. It's as if every since cell of my being is hungry for him. Every empty moment in my mind is filled with wishing that he was here. I've felt sadness, regret: why couldn't I do more to help him, pity: did he suffer? Shame, I feel ashamed for not being able to save him.

There's just a magnetic urge from inside of me, all around me, pulsing towards where he is.

He is perfection and I love him so much.

But now as I road travel for the US and see different things, I think: for what?
I wish Max was here with me to experience this. Without him, it's pointless.

One thing that helps me those is the religions and spiritual creedos that tell me, he is here watching me. And you know I believe it. I do. I can feel him. He's changed me forever and for all times. And I love him.

I lack a work filter now (where I would censor stuff I wouldn't want work people to read) because who really cares now. Losing a child makes everything else seem insignificant. Everything. The last couple of weeks have been hard. Ended up with me being in a psychiatric ward for 3 days due to scoring a GAF-20 with suicidal ideations. I appreciate my friends for looking out for me and getting me there though. It's really nothing to be ashamed about.
Having a child die unexpectantly at 16 days is fucked up shit, and I've always been a sensitive guy as it is. The psychiatric ward was alright. I was the smartest one there for sure, but there are quality people. Just some with some fucked up backgrounds. My roommates weren't so bad. Some felon who just got out after 5 years tried to talk to me but I avoided him. Met a girl named Amy who lives in a group home and whose arm is full of cuts. I still don't understand the cutting.
Since then I've been to about 3 counselors and a psychiatrist. 9-3 everyday. It's getting better, but it's still hard. I went running at Terry Hershey today with tears in my eyes and wheezing half the time.
They're working on my grief but also the other stuff I've had in my head the past 27 years. Read the past 9 years of the blog to find out more. Anxiety and weirdness and all that.
The thing about losing Max out of nowhere is that plans are destroyed. What's the plan now? I'm basically back to where I was at 23. Day by day, working, all that. Towards what. I've been watching The Wire. One guy said, "A life. It's the shit that happens while you're waiting for moments that never come."
I get job offers constantly now, but I know that moving away would just be Talking Shit About A Pretty Sunset.
If I have a message it's this, don't be afraid to seek help. It can feel damn good crying and spilling your guts to a professional. They don't judge. They can help sort you out. They really can. You might be anxious about it, but it beats the alternative.
But there's no magic cure, and there never can be. Chase religion, science, theology, spirituality, medicine - you're not going to get the facts back. So just trust yourself and do your damndest to honor the one you loved that died.