And so it begins, the dread of knowing that you changed my life.

To know that I am terrified to have a close friend again.

So with people I like, I am mean to them.

Not that I mean to be, but it's my form of "friendship" now.

I mourn our loss of friendship like a death.

It pains me every day, knowing that you blame me for all of your issues.

That you can take no accountability, why would it be your fault?

It has to be everyone around you!

I had issues when I came back home, I am mature, now, to see that.

I was there when you needed me.

I was there when you realized you had anxiety.

I was there when you lost you dog.

I was there when you graduated, I was in the stands cheering.

I was there when you found your first and only boyfriend.

I was there for your birthdays, Christmas', celebrations, sadness.

And when I asked for help, you turned you back on me.

You let that anxiety tell you "no".

You refused to answer me when I reached out for a friend.

You let your boyfriend twist your mind.

You allowed outside opinions to break a twenty year friendship.

You choose to lie to your "best friend" for four years instead of talking it out because you didn't want to loose a friendship.

Guess what.

I gave you space like you asked and you complained about it.

I apologized for things I didn't even do and for the small things I didn't know I did.

You cried.

I think you apologized....but you didn't mean it.

I nearly killed myself and you will never know.

You won't know how much I needed you then.

I was lost and you didn't care.

You felt better because you finally told me how you felt.

It's easier to put your issues on other people instead of facing them right?

I faced my issues, I face them every day.

Me and God.

Because He is the only friend I really have.

You used to know that.

And so it begins, the realization that I am terrified of trusting people.

I am terrified that I will lose a friend that way again.

I am terrified that I will depend on someone that chooses to lie instead of talking it out.

I am terrified that I can't trust people anymore.

I don't blame you for the last one.

That is years of people in my life showing me being an adult is rough.

Looks like I will have to work on more issues.

Friendships.

Trust.

I won't have another friendship like ours again.

I miss you.

A home is all Peter the Penguin wanted. He had with him a small bundle of rocks and he was looking for a home. Join Fr. Javier and Shelly as they try and convince Fr. Matt to take in this lonely penguin. They joke, they laugh, and they plead with the young priest. Come and join the duo as they begin an adventure in this new book, "Peter the Penguin Needs a Home" coming to bookstore near you!

It's been a bit of time since we last spoke, right? It was going well, you would love to see the improvement. I have finally felt like I have a purpose. Can you imagine four years of feeling worthless and then finding purpose?

I was doing so well, but then again, I am here, and you are reading this. If you haven't figured out, I come back to this shack, this corner when something runs afoul. My hands are stuck deep in my brown trench coat. There is no rain, no wind, but I need to hide the stench that I feel seeping from my body. You sit there, by the streetlight, reading your paper. A sad smile appears on your face saying "I'm sorry you're back." You don't want me here, but you're at least happy to know I am still around. When I reach the broken wooden shack door, you watch as I hesitate. I don't want to keep returning to this place, it could be torn down, I wouldn't care!

I wasn't forced to return, I created the issue. Found the path to the shack and I took it willing. I wanted to know more, I needed to know more, I thought I needed. I can hear it, the trapped being on the other side of the broken wooden door. It cries out to me, spewing its' hatred.

"You worthless being! Slice it, end it, become the coward we all know you to be!" I don't want to go in, I was doing so well. I stumbled and it has been like a slow fog rolling into my life and I can't find a way out. I stand with my back against the broken wooden door praying that I can stop the being. It won't leave, it can't leave, it knows one day I will return.

You can't see it, you can't hear it. But you can hear me. I replay memories in my head and you hear the results. You see my body reacting to the fear that is gripping hold of me. You don't know what to say, so you watch me through glass as if I am some form of sad entertainment.

I cried out to an ear that understood. I explained that I was hurting and needed help, for goodness sakes is it so hard to reach out and see if I am okay? In case you were wondering, it seems the answer is yes. I should be used to it, I makes sure others are fine, why should I ever expect someone to do the same for me? The downside about weather changes, people get sick. I was supposed to talk to someone I trusted today. People get sick.

"Just breathe." That's what he says. "Just breathe".

I sometimes wish I did drugs, drank alcohol, did something that would numb this feeling, but I can't! I am to courageous fighting this battle. You will leave the bench, eventually, but I will continue pacing outside this shack surrounded by the creeping fog.

It’s 2314, I’m exhausted. My ears filled with NF’s album; the search.

”next time this happens”

I cursed out a friend Sunday, he didn’t deserve it. I get super hostile once a month. He didn’t make a comment that warranted that reaction.

”maybe we got to comfortable”.

I burned a rope on our friendship bridge. I didn’t mean too. I’m going to lose a friendship, I can see it coming. I tried to let him know he didn’t do anything, it was all me. I promised it wouldn’t happen again.

i made a plan though. I sat there trying hard not to cry while my depression kicked into overdrive. I was ready. I could take a knife from my car, my tattoos could cover the marks.

i had a plan. Why? Because I’m not worth it. What if I do it again? I’d lose whatever I had left. Guys, I had a plan! I self destructed a friendship. Why am I so fracked up! I want to scream. I hate myself. AND HE FORGAVE ME! I don’t deserve it!

so I walked away, turned away from the friends. Put on my headphones and walked it out. I wanted to leave, I wanted to go right then, I’m not worth it.

but God said different…..

its 2323 and I’m listening to NF; Hope. After 11 years a woman I haven’t seen called me out on the street. I took care of her daughter during a terrible divorce. I still had a plan until she told me I was the Angel in her life. I showed the kid life can be okay and I gave them laughter. Mom asks how I’m doing, why say the truth, she is going to die from cancer in 8 month. I don’t have the right to say I feel like i am a rabid dog that needs to be put down.

Its 2330, I got to sleep. I have kids depending on me tomorrow. I don’t have a plan, but I feel i Should.

How is it today?

It's worse.

What's making it worse?

Nothing, it's just worse.

What's it feel like?

Like a giant weight that keeps pulling me down. I don't want to eat, I don't want to do anything. And I don't know why.

So what are you gonna do about it? Gonna keep pretending that it's not there? Keep wallowing in the denial? How did that work out the last dozen times?

Have you ever seen a horror or suspenseful movie with dead, headless animals and hoped you never would have to deal with that in real life? Don't worry, I did it for you and let me tell you how you never want to live that life.

So flashback to 2019, one hundred degree (F) Afghanistan. We are sent to do plumbing on a former black op site. Imagine walking through black plastic covered chain-linked fences to teal or slight pink buildings. There was dust and sand EVERYWHERE, dry porcelain toilets with the bowl covered with dry poop; pealing off like old wallpaper. The rooms smelled like asbestos, death, dust and whatever else lives in a building that has been unoccupied for a year or more.

We made it through the main building, which had no power, but when you flicked the phone light on, you could see the horror! Malaria infested mosquitos awaken from a slumber. The feeling of walking into a rainforest, the dampness clinging to the green molded walls. We were checking to see if the water was on, it was, in case you were wondering because a shower head dripping echoed in the empty darkness.

The last building sat in the corner. The windows closed, the door shut a little to tight, a disgusting smell a few feet away resonating from within, baking in the Middle Eastern sun.

We opened the once white door, now stained in sand storm dust, and the retching smell hit us. Dead, headless birds lay scattered across the floor.

Now a normal person would think they died once getting trapped in the building and a cat ate their heads (cats are feral there to control the varmint population). I am not a normal person, I automatically assumed this was a sacrifice, logical response! The best part, the birds weren't decomposing, but clearly have been there for some time. We had to take care of the birds, I blocked how they were disposed, but the smell lingered. Leaving the windows open during the day was allowed, but we had to close them at night. Super hot during the day, freezing cold at night; that would never fix the smell problem.

A month later, the whole project almost completed. We never fixed up the dead bird building, the project manager didn't want it done. It was never touched again once we cleaned it. This job sucked, but watching my leader put his hand down a pipe with dried feces really topped the job site. That is another story of how that came to be!

To tear every weakness from the body, there are no words to describe. What I want to be, I can’t achieve, yet, but slowly I will push the fear from within into power I can’t even imagine.

What sacrifice are you willing to put out to change how you are? Can you handle looking pathetic in the wandering eyes around you? The struggle to hold yourself to a schedule. To give 100%, everyday, don’t quit! I will become stronger, you better fear that.

What can I say, would you even believe it? I can tell you the feeling of holding someone while their last breath leaves their body, but I can't tell you what he felt. I lived a long life, but I can't tell you how to make it through unscathed. I know what it's like to taste danger, but I can't figure out where that part of me went. Did it ever exist? I don't know. Can I ever find my innocent self again? Probably not, but who knows.

It’s the next day, I should be asleep. But how do you sleep when you’re afraid to relax?

I quit a toxic environment for my mental health. Now a month later, I’m back in the same boat, but this time it’s me Vs my mind.

Someone told to take pills, fight off the depression; yeah let’s experiment with chemicals on an already tortured mind, sounds really safe.

No one checks in on me, hey how ya feeling? Would I tell them the truth? Hey I’m sinking into a dark place, slowly, but I’m making it there. You can’t tell people that, they’ll either say you’re being over dramatic or over react and call the squads that haul you away and experiment. Maybe it’s a good thing then no one checks in then.

How do you sleep when your brain says you’re a piece of crap? I mean, I know I’m not, but what if it’s right? What if my life really doesn’t mean anything? Scary thought, I know it’s not true, but right now, I feel like a waste of space.

I see a job I like, nope, don’t have the degree, don’t have the experience, don’t have the courage to even try knowing I won’t get it!

And to top it off, you’re afraid to trust again, because the person you trusted lied! And the worst part, I’m not even angry about that, I’m used to it. But dang it hurts. I hate the pain, Yoda was right. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering; and boy am I suffering.

I wish I had the courage to do drugs, I wish I had the courage to punch the wall till my hands bled, I wish I had the courage to decide how and when, but I don’t.

I let the fear of pain, the fear of jail, the fear of running someone’s life stop me.

And then the comments will say you’re brave, you’re okay, it takes guts to say this. I’m not okay, I struggle every day hoping that my life will come together, hoping I don’t accidentally hurt someone, hoping today will be the day a friend, a real friend texts me and asks “ARE YOU OKAY?”

It won’t happen, so I’ll try and get sleep because I start my day in 6 hours now. To pretend to be happy, to hide The tears, hide the anger. I’ll listen to my music and keeping asking God if he can hear me.

Don’t worry, I’m okay.

The different sounds can send me to the places with no name

Into the wild

Through the woods

Around the mist

Laying in the sun

With a slight breeze

The smell of memories

Good

Bad

Real

Imaginary

The tones end

Voice in the distance

Slide off the ear muffs

"Why is your music so loud?"