Lately I’ve dreamt of being dead and seeing people I know. I wasn’t in a good place, either. And I saw my son there.

Dreams when you’re sick, they’re just bad. Don’t mean nothing.

After the symptoms backed off, however, I’ve had waking premonitions, not dissociative thoughts, but fast, clear scenes of people talking about my death. There’s no emotion in them. No pity. No sense of loss. No regret. Nothing.

Sure, I could be suffering from any one of a long list of things, and I’m well aware of it. But what if I’m not?

I’ve wanted for so long to have my pain end. For it all to be over. I’ve wished for the best place after death because I’ve lived in hell.

Last night I listened to Clapton’s Tears in Heaven and wept. Will I go there? Will I see my children there? Will my fears and my nightmares prove false?

One of my favorite bloggers, Jack Flacco, wrote a recent post that reminded me that no matter what I’ve suffered in my life, The Lord was always watching, always knew what I was doing and, most of all, what was done to me. My trials are, however, not enough to get me into heaven. They have to have changed me. Lately, I think about that. Because, what do I believe, and do I reflect what I believe with my actions and my words?

I’ve left you the story of my life here on these posts. I’ve covered the horrible, the damage and even the unbelievable: the paranormal. Rest assured, it’s all true. The good and the bad. It’s been so long I think I should be finished, leave the page up, but walk away. It helped for a while. Seeing over 100 followers taking me at my word was a boost to my morale and made me want to do better for them. Of course the latest fan fiction was a bust and I have to remove it, but that’s fine; it was awful anyway.

I hope that revealing my soul will one day allow someone else to examine what they have been through and claim faith, justice and healing. That’s why I changed my format and unashamedly shared my broken heart with you.

I do have one major regret though: I wish I could find everyone I failed and tell them how sorry I am for not being the man I should have been, for not being there for them, for turning my back and walking away. All of that still hurts me almost half a century later.

I could have gone on, denying the harm I’ve done. But it’s not in me to have kept that up. The regrets for my actions won’t go away. This is why I beg you, be kind in all things. Walk away from conflict if you can, but treat those who love you as if this is the last day you will ever see them, because it may be. You always remember the last words you say to someone. You always remember if before they left, you left something unsaid or something unfinished. You don’t want that kind of burden. It’s too heavy.

We all fail and fall short. We fall short of the things God wants of us, of the things others need from us, and of the things we should do for ourselves.

It does not have to define you. Apologies can be made, things that need to be said should be the next words out of your mouth, and lost time can be compensated for if you are honestly willing. Do not wind up like me. You won’t like it.

And of course, I’m not forgetting that I’m a victim here; that alone always affected my interactions with others. I was scared of being hurt, so I hurt others first. I was lonely but afraid of being close to someone and handing them the power to hurt me, so I let chances of a lifetime slide past and coldly said, “Fuck it.”

I was afraid of failure, of falling down, of being laughed at, of telling the woman I fell so deeply in love with how I felt, and I never knew what could have been. I let her go and it was easy.

My behavior because of PTSD doomed me in an age before the world even knew what it was. And ever since the world learned the truth behind it, people in America said, “We’re turning the country into a nation of victims.”

Mostly conservatives, mostly politicians who still want Disability and Medicare abolished, but others too, people raised by the strap and who in turn used it on their own children. A nation of victims? No.

A nation of barbarians. A nation that puts the innocent in prison but which fails its children, its poor, its senior citizens, the mentality ill and most people in general. Housing is so costly and evictions so common that I sit here wondering why the hell new communities are constantly being built. A college degree costs more than the student is likely to be able to repay in ten to twenty years in the best of situations. Food and fuel costs are alarming. Plastic trash and carbon emissions threaten to drive the human race to extinction before the next century. We are a nation of destroyers, and we eat our own. Anyone denying this is a fool.

Therefore, it is all the more important that you prepare yourself to make a difference. Be kind. Remember the times you failed or made a mistake and break a sweat pounding the lessons into your head. Try to overcome the fear of rejection, of being laughed at. I know it’s a tall order. But if you’ve read this far, I know you’re one of those who can make a difference. With enough people who have the will to change the world, who knows what miracles we can do with God’s help?

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33