Reflection on life events by Richard Bleil
There have been far too many times that I have faced excessively humiliating events.
My wife told me that she wanted me gone, and I realized that I had been in the marriage alone for too long, and one person alone cannot make a marriage work. She had four boys from her previous husband, so I agreed that she would get the house, for which we paid cash using the retirement plan that I had cashed in. I didn’t do it for her; I did it for the boys.
And me? I get to be alone. Again. But there was one event that made things just oh so special. Namely, I got to go to a cheap mega store for supplies. That was a fun trip, to get cooking pots, utensils, plates, cups, blankets, pillows, towels, food, soap, shampoo…everything one needs to live. And I mean everything.
At one point, I looked down at my cart, and came to a brutal realization. Anybody looking in my cart could easily see that I was just thrown out of the house.
We want to keep our shame hidden, private, secret. It’s important to us, and seems to minimize the effects. My wife wanted a divorce, and had already replaced me (with a drug addicted alcoholic registered pedophile with no job so, you know, she traded up, I guess).
It turned out to be an important lesson for me. I came to realize that I was ashamed in case somebody who has no idea who I am might realize that I’m struggling. Even if they did realize what I was going through, they have no idea who I am, the life I’ve led, the turns my life has taken, who I am, what I’ve sacrificed, the honor of the fights I’ve fought, win or lose. I realized that what THEY though of me was not nearly as important as what I thought of myself. It’s a lesson I still need to learn from time to time.
Sometimes, you don’t fight to win. Sometimes, you fight because it’s the right thing to do. You must be willing to accept the consequences for the fight to have honor, and I always have.
It’s not the last time I’ve had such shameful experiences happen to me. Since then I’ve lost two jobs for standing up for what I believed was right. As it turns out, bosses really hate that kind of thing. Leaders respect that kind of courage, though. I just wish I had been working with leaders, rather than bosses. I’ve been homeless, and still am today, living as a burden in the basement of friend’s houses, as any “real” man would never do. Today, I am living in a very cheap long-term motel, again trying to restart my life, and I’m about to have yet another shameful experience to knock me just that much further into the abyss.
My last job had a rather significant income, and I thought that, perhaps, my bad twists were in my past. So, I took a prideful risk. See, I was driving an old Jeep Wrangler, but, sadly, every time I drove it, it belched up all of the transmission fluid which sometimes burned on the engine block, and always needed a refill. In other words, it had become unreliable. So I replaced it.
I had never owned a new car, and have a habit of keeping cars forever. With my reliable income, I went out and bought a car that was not only brand-new, but also was well above the quality and pretentiousness than anything I had ever owned before. Then the ax fell.
I lost my job, I lost my income, I lost my girlfriend (who apparently thought of herself as a “perk” of my income), and, naturally, fell behind on my car payments. A friend of mine was kind enough to allow some deliveries to her address for my business, and yesterday, a tow truck showed up at her place to take the car.
Yup, my car will soon be repossessed.
I can’t say that it’s a shock, or necessarily a bad thing. I realize that I will still owe money on it, but at least I won’t have to worry about insurance, and SOME of the debt will be taken off by the sale of the vehicle. With the advance notice, I’ve emptied it out, so if it’s towed without my knowledge, my personal possessions won’t disappear. This is kind of a mixed blessing in and of itself, since the entirety of the belongings left to my name do, in fact, fit into the car.
And, again, another humiliating event is primed to unfold. Right now, I’m thinking about the logistics of being without a car. I suppose I can eat at the school where I teach, and take cabs to and from work since the bus system does not come to this hotel, but I’ll be stuck. It sure could be fun living in a hotel and never being able to just go out driving, or to travel to another town to visit friends.
Ugh, I’m not looking forward to this.