The Reese’s frisbee

It was an ordinary summer in 1983, and I was in the backseat as we drove back from my family’s annual beach vacation. And the closer we got to being home, the more anxious I got. I was finally about to find something out:

Had I won that Reese’s Cups frisbee?

See….in the early and mid ’80s, it was common for name brand snack products to have contests and prizes w/ game pieces in every product. The possibilities seemed endless. You could win $5 (the most I ever did), $5000, a stove, a frisbee, and so many other goodies.

I loved that stuff.

And often, you had to get both “halves” of a prize to win it. I knew I’d gotten one half of the frisbee earlier, and I got another frisbee half piece while we were on vacation. But I couldn’t remember if it were the opposite half or not.

That was all that mattered at the moment. Because I didn’t have another care in the world.

Because it was before my hellish teen years. Before I spent my (otherwise great) college years with a pain that I couldn’t shake yet. And before I spent the last almost 30 years and counting dealing with depression.

I was eight. Life was easy and with no worries.

And at this point, it’s hard to fathom how that was ever the case. But it was.

And I still remember it vividly. I was already an antsy enough traveler as it was at that age, but the anticipation of uncovering my possible jackpot of frisbee heaven made those final hours on the road seem even longer.

We finally made it back. Before I did anything else, I ran in the house to check “my” drawer that contained all my irreplaceable valuables. The other frisbee game piece was waiting.

It was the same half.

I wasn’t even that surprised, because I’d had a nagging suspicion the whole time that I hadn’t won it. But still, it was disappointing.

Despite this unthinkable life setback, the next day still came. And I woke up ready for it. Happy, emotionally healthy, and ready to move on.

Something that I haven’t felt for almost 40 years now.

Escape, part 2

I just want to escape.

To a hotel room in the middle of the night. In total darkness and with a strange foreign TV show on (that I can’t understand).

No need to check out in the morning. Free from any obligations or responsibilities. Enough food and drinks in the mini-fridge.

Total quiet all around. Except for an occasional passing car in the distance.

And never enter the outside world again.

Music over the years

Whenever I look back at my past, I tend to associate one song the most with a particular 1-2 year time range. Earlier on it was current hits. But in the last 20 years, was more often something that I heard at the time (that resonated the most). Maybe someone might bump into something they’ve forgotten about (or never heard before):

1981: “Physical” by Olivia Newton-John. I’d just turned seven, and this is the first song I remember hearing all the time. Reminds me of getting hot dogs with my grandfather in his country club’s diner (as it played in the background).

1983: “Break my Stride” by Matthew Wilder. The first record that I ever played over and over. I was obsessed with it.

1985: “Rhythm of the Night” by Debarge. My favorite song around that time. Hearing it while on a field trip to the state capital. During the last year when life was consistently happy

1991: “Rush Rush” by Paula Abdul. Slow dancing with someone to this on a cruise ship. One of the few great times and escapes I had as a teen.

1993: “Freak me” by Silk. Yes I love ’90s R&B anyway, but this one is the most special to me. Maybe the best year of my life. My freshman year at college. Going out with friends on the weekend and hearing this playing inside the club (as a few girls coming out were drunkenly and badly singing it). Music to my ears.

1998: “Money Ain’t a Thang” by Jermaine Dupri and Jay-Z. Represents the most social times that I had after college (which didn’t last long). All of us in the car after a long night out, singing this at the top of our lungs.

2004: “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day. As I first made the journey to southern Cali (to figure out a plan for the move there a year later). This was on the radio all the time then. As I hoped that my California dream would not turn out that way.

2005: “Cool Night” by Paul Davis. Shopping for cleaning supplies at the local grocery store (to clean my apartment for that move) and feeling such relaxation as it came on. So I still associate it with finally making that major life change. It also started my appreciation for late ’70s/early ’80s soft rock.

2011: “Blackout” by Breathe Carolina. Toward the end of my struggles during that time out west. But still remember this coming on the radio right after I’d picked up a date to go out one night. It wasn’t the typical genre I expected to like. But she started up with it from the beginning. And by midway through the song, I was nodding my full acceptance. Before the end we were fully in tune together. “I’m only getting started! I won’t black out”

2012: “Mr. Wrong” by Mary J. Blige. During lonely nights driving out to play poker (as I was on the road staying in a good friend’s area for awhile). Searching for a new life.

2017: “Alone” by Halsey. Anything Halsey from that year would fit. Not surprising that I’d pick that particular song of hers though. As I ended up back in the same city from my 20s for awhile.

2018: “Tender Love” by Force MDs. One day it came on at work in my good friend’s office, and I started playing it some on my own occasionally since. So I now associate it with my time at that company

2022: “Ordinary World” by Duran Duran. Ending up back near my hometown for now (for family reasons). By this point, I was already trying to avoid “crying for yesterday” and wishing that there was an ordinary world that I could somehow find.

Still hoping for that.

A new step update

It’s been about 2 1/2 months since I decided to restrict access for one year from the outlets that I’ve used most for my degenerative behavior with my finances.

How are things going so far?

Well, there’s no improvement in any desire to make any necessary life changes. Though that’s not very disappointing (because it’s what I expected). It would’ve been nice to surprise myself with some upside there, but…not to be.

No change to my frame of mind. I still feel the same level of failure (and hopelessness about the future) as I did before. I’m pretty much the same person. Just without the further decline of my financial future.

So has anything positive come from this new path yet? Yes and no.

I’ve found that this break has provided me some more clarity on the future. When you’re not busy destroying yourself further sometimes, there’s not much else to do but think even more about the reality of your situation. That’s the good.

The bad? That outlook is only worsening. The opportunities to rebuild with advantage gambling continue to tighten. Plus I don’t see that trend changing. Maybe not for the rest of my life. And the funny thing is, that realization hitting even deeper has actually caused my discipline to be better in the meantime. Because if there’s no viable long term plan to build back a lot of wealth, then what’s the point of even trying to run up some $ the wrong way? Even if that happens…not like I can do much further with it.

How messed up is that, eh? The future looking even worse has helped me to keep a better perspective with the present. Talk about having to find a good side however you can.

But it’s what I have to do. Especially since the other outlets from my past (sportscard dealing, financial markets trading) likely won’t be available to me soon either.

So that’s where things stand. I still hope to make some other general life progress this year, but there’s no sign of it yet. So I’m still just holding on.

Waiting for the right new chapter that will probably never happen.

Sensei A

I just finished watching the just released final episodes of the Cobra Kai series. Yep, I’m sure there are endless blog entries out there saying that right now.

Nope, this one won’t be like those.

Double spoiler alert: first one is the typical “don’t read on if you’re gonna watch it”. Second one is: despite how much I loved it, this is not the typical feel-good cheering on or critique of the series. So don’t read on for that either.

These are just some thoughts on how much I relate to it. Johnny’s journey, specifically.

When I first started watching Cobra Kai at the beginning (over six years ago), I was, like many people, looking forward to seeing where the storylines would go with all the characters and their families. After all, I was an 80s kid and the Karate Kid has always been one of my very favorite movies.

But things immediately took an additional focus. From the very first scene beginning in the present day.

Johnny Lawrence…..the guy who had so much glory when he was a lot younger….is now a man in his early 50s who just unhappily slammed the alarm. He’s living in a shitty apartment and about to start another day of a dead-end, meaningless life with no one close to him (with any hints of his past success having disappeared many, many years ago).

I still remember how that hit me.

Because even though Johnny’s personality (and many of his strengths and weaknesses) couldn’t be more different than mine, his life path was eerily similar. For those who have never seen any of my entries: no, I wasn’t the stereotypical guy who peaked in high school. Far, far from it.

But I have had the same long lasting slide from a similar level of success (as a young adult) to a very long period of failure that’s lasted into middle-age.

Fast forward to today, and I’m almost his age at the beginning of the series. And here I was watching the feel good conclusion that has played out over the course of six long seasons. It’s what you’d expect: after tons of highs and lows as he rebuilds his life, it all comes together in the end.

Now he has a life full of family, friends, and a bright future. And just as important: redemption and success again.

And that really hurts to see.

Because now I’m that guy a few minutes into Season one, episode one. But unlike Johnny, I don’t know if I’ll ever have the opportunity to come full circle. And even if I did, it’s hard to imagine having the energy to pull off such a long, exhausting transformation.

There’s even one more small parallel. A quirky one that makes me grin for a second. One of my very, very few close friends has always called me sensei. Not because I know karate, but as a compliment to the accuracy, clarity, and teachable nature of some of my life views and skills.

And what’s the basis of Johnny’s later life transformation? Yep, he becomes a sensei.

Could that be my path too? Sounds nice, but it’s not gonna happen. I could never enjoy being a teacher, because I don’t have enough interest in being around sharing life with, well, people.

What does that leave then? Just another 50 year old guy who never wants to hear that alarm to start a new day. Who may never find his way out of this life hole.

As I’ve said a few times before here, it’s simply another example of how real life can easily be far apart from the typical movie-life ending. Sensei Lawrence may finally change from ace degenerate to ex-degenerate, but the reality looming for Sensei A appears very different.

Until the day that the alarm never goes off again.

Let’s chill

It’s 2005. Inside the condo I was leasing in Southern California then.

There’s someone sitting on my couch across the room from me. And she’s waiting expectantly. I dim the lights in the room and start over with a sly smirk.

Our eyes lock again.

Even though we’d only been out a few times, we both knew the chemistry that was there. And that now was the time to start exploring that connection some more.

As the last step to set the scene, I turn on the music mix that I’d put together earlier that day. “Let’s Chill” (by Guy) starts playing. And once its intro shifts into a sultry beat, you can see that instant that her mind registers approval of the choice (as she’s introduced to my love of ’90s R&B).

Yes, it sounds like a scene scripted for a movie. But sometimes they actually happen that naturally in real life. And for us, it was that night.

But it wasn’t long before I never saw her again.

What went wrong? Nothing specific. That night or otherwise. I just never took the budding relationship any further. Until recently, I always attributed distancing myself to how she was way too much of a nurturer (rather than there being a balance of what both of us would want from life, and each other). Which I knew would never work for me.

And that very well may be true. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder: was it really? Or was I doing the thing that emotionally unavailable people can be best at: making sure that you find a reason to keep anyone and everyone from getting serious with you, no matter what.

Despite how self-aware I am, this is a rare time where I’m simply not sure of an answer. Maybe it’s because it was a combination of both. Or maybe cause it’ll never be quite clear enough to know for sure.

But one thing’s for sure: with how I am (and was), there was little doubt about the lifelong solitary path that I’d end up taking. And if I’d known how certain that was at the time, I never would’ve let her get the least bit attached to begin with.

So yep, romance may be like the movies sometimes. But the happily ever after endings? Much more elusive.

Taking a new step

As this year winds down (and my degenerate habits still have me on a completely self-destructive path), I took a step today to stop the bleeding for now. Further action than I’ve ever done:

I restricted access from all the sites that facilitate my poor choices for a full year. Prior to this, the only time I’d ever done anything like that was with one site about a year and a half ago. But that still left me with way too many outlets. And now, that’s not the case anymore.

This was not easy to do. Not as much because of how it’ll take away my problem activities. Sure I’ll miss it, but I’m not the type that will go jonesing for action and have some horrible withdrawals. The main reason is because when it comes to this battle…..I hate the idea of using any avoidance techniques (rather than being able to tackle my issues head on and hopefully increase my willpower).

But at the moment, I needed a change more than ever. One that might get me to finally focus a lot more on making necessary life changes. And it’s not like I’m giving up on ever improving myself. Because if I do find a way to turn the corner on some of my demons in the next year, then come next holiday season, it’ll be time to see if I can handle risking money the right way again.

One full year. To try and do this without the looming cloud over my head of often further destroying myself and my family financially.

Don’t know how I’ll react. Because for better and worse, these activities have been part of my life for the last 35 years. Ever since I got back into sportscards in high school and occasionally bought a pack of old cards w/ the hope of hitting something big. I’ve had some prolonged breaks before, but this will still be different (because those were simply because I didn’t have the money for awhile). Cutting yourself off entirely from the activity (no matter what) just isn’t the same.

As usual, I’ll update how it’s going here whenever the mood strikes. It’s going to be an exhausting year, and my list of things that need fixed is as long as ever. Pretty much everything about life (from health to career). And given my track record, the odds may not be too good. But then, that’s why I made this change. To at least see if I end up giving it a different shot.

We’ll see who I am as of December 13, 2025.

A new level of broken

Around six years ago, I spent one weekend at back to back big concerts (with a woman who, at the time, I was very close to). We sang our hearts out and were able to let loose and enjoy ourselves.

Doesn’t sound like me? Yep, that happens very rarely.

So then, why am I bringing that up now?

Because I don’t think I’m capable of even those quick escapes from my depression anymore. Despite all my years of struggles and isolation, at least I was able to still have some enjoyable experiences with others occasionally. But not now.

At this stage of never dating anymore, entering the 50+ stage of life with no support system, and all of my life issues only getting worse…..I never even feel like doing anything positive.

And that’s a shame. Cause even though it’s so difficult for single people my age to add others closely into their lives, I’ve learned recently that there are actually two people around here who might be an exception to that rule:

A woman I grew up in school with (who I’ve hung out with before and is also having a tough time with this life stage) and a guy who lives around the corner in my apartment building. I’ve only run into him a couple times and he has no idea who I am, but I’ve seen him pop up on my facebook wall since he went to med school with one of my old childhood baseball teammates.

I get along very well with that woman. And it’s clear that I have plenty in common with the guy. And that even though he has a much fuller life than I do (kids and being a doctor), he still seems to be single, without close friendships, and wanting something more in life beyond the work and father routine.

But I still haven’t reached out to them. And who knows if I ever will. Despite these situations possibly being just what I need to somehow become healthier, establish tighter contacts in this area, and just improve life in general.

And it’s so dangerous to feel this way. Those occasional dating and friend escapes in my 20s, 30s, and early/mid 40s definitely helped my state of mind. Without them, it’s just total depression without any breaks. Which is how it’s been for the past few years, and likely for good going forward.

A new, permanent level of broken.

Late night walk of nothingness

When you’re as much of a depressed slug as I am, you (very) occasionally feel the urge to get outside. And when that happens, you’d better act on it.

In my case, that’s usually in the dark with no one around. As long as it’s not that cold out. Tonight it was a shade cooler than I’d prefer, but still plenty mild enough. So at 1 AM, the shorts and sweatshirt went on.

I live in an apartment complex that’s on a few mile stretch of business road off the interstate. It’s the only residence on this entire road (and nothing is open overnight). So at this hour, even in this packed college town, it’s a total ghost town down the main drag.

Was on my way down the hill and toward the interstate. While this doesn’t make me clear my head, feel any better, or any of the other feel good cliches associated with taking a healthy walk…..since I’m drawn to the solitude and surreal nature of this dark version of one, it still appeals to me.

Took only ten minutes to get most of the way down. I head into a business complex that has a hotel. Since I glorify a possible future existence of wasting away alone in a hotel during my golden years, I go over to just take in the view.

Surprisingly a hotel guest (maybe about 70) was just outside the entrance. He had a brace on his leg and was using a walker, as he slightly struggled to get turned around and go back inside. Quite an eery glimpse of my future that I never expected to see so late.

Go figure.

As I’m digesting that bizarre reminder of how things will likely be in about 20 years (especially if I don’t lose any of the extra belly weight I’ve gained), I decide to go a little further. The interstate entrance was only a couple more blocks away.

After continuing down the sidewalk to the entrance, I press the button to walk across. Not because I’m going to cross. Just to hear one of my favorite parts of these quiet, blurry night walks: the clicking of a stoplight changing.

I wait almost a full minute. The light never changes. So much for that.

It’s time to head back up the hill now. Before long, my hamstrings remind me that they’ve rarely been asked to do this (for almost 30 years now). I can still walk forever without tiring on flat surfaces, but steep hills are a different beast.

Not too far before the slope evens out some though, so the reminders of my deteriorated physical conditioning don’t last too long. Even by the time I’m opening my apartment complex’s door at 1:35, I’ve barely broken a sweat from my uphill return.

Guess I’m not ready to completely keel over yet, eh.

Now it’s back to where I spend most of my apartment time (which is most of the time that I’m not at the family’s house): sitting on my couch alone and avoiding life responsibilities or finding any joy in this existence.

As I finish typing this at 2:10, it’s maybe five hours until daybreak. And I’ll fight every one of them ending.

So that I don’t have to deal with tomorrow.

Death

In all of my incessant whining about life over the last five years, there’s something that I’ve rarely mentioned:

I find myself thinking about death. A good bit. My own and others (past and present).

And this is a change that only happened as I got further into my 40s. Despite my lifelong adult unhappiness, I was never the type to have a morbid frame of mind when I was younger. Back then, it just didn’t come to mind much. Like many depressed people, I just floated through my daily existence.

But now, it’s creeping in all the time. Especially since I’m now at the stage where the adults from my childhood are all elderly (or already gone). And I’m not talking about anything personal there either. I’ll see a game show host from the ’80s on a youtube video, and think to myself “he’s dead now”.

Not healthy, I know. But unavoidable lately.

What’s worse is that this is another part of the midlife crisis that could easily become permanent. Actually, it’ll probably get even worse. If I’m already starting to think about death regularly at 50, imagine how I might be about my mortality way down the road.

Another quote from Shawshank just came to mind: “Get busy living, or get busy dying”.

Maybe someday I’ll learn to become capable of that.