I’d start with my name is Josh, but you know that. Firstly, thank you for following. So who is it that you’re following. Well, allow me to introduce myself.
I am a mid thirties father of two boys. Benjamin and Drake. Their mom, Libby, is my wife, and I love her very much.
I work for the state of Oregon as a weighmaster, or a “Motor Carrier Enforcement Officer” to be official.
What it means is that I sit on the side of the freeway in a little shack and trucks drive by and cross a scale. Then I write them tickets for all sorts of stuff.
Sometimes I take seriously dangerous stuff off the road. Other times it’s nit picky tax issues. Either way, it pays the bills and provides benefits.
I desperately need benefits. If you look at my history you’ll see poems about cutting and wanting to cut. Depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts. I’m mentally ill.
I have major depressive disorder and panic disorder. I’ve been in dialectical behavioral therapy for a few months. I have a few left. Prior to that I was off work for a couple months.
Attending IOP. Intensive Outpatient treatment. You see, I couldn’t stop cutting myself. I took my preferred knife to my boss. She spoke to HR. And I went on disability for a little while.
The therapy really helps. But I also really need my whole assortment of meds. I take three medications when I wake up and one before bed. Two as needed throughout the day.
But hey, it’s all working. I haven’t been cutting and I think my relationships with my wife and kids are better than ever. I also feel a whole lot less cranky.
Between work and kids and therapy I don’t get a lot of free time. Hence I don’t read or comment on nearly as many stories here as I’d like.
My wife and I have been together for eighteen years now which is exactly half our lives. We met the first week of college. Crazy to think how much we’ve experienced together.
For about twelve years we had to move every year once on average. It was because I kept getting jobs in different places. I finally settled in this sweet little town in Oregon.
It’s beautiful, right next to a huge river, and surrounded by cliffs, mountains, forests, and waterfalls. Beautiful, horrifying waterfalls. Lol.
Last summer, not the one that just ended but the one before, there was a forest fire. A punk teenager was playing with smoke bombs way up a trail. It was about a mile from our town.
For a few days we didn’t know if town would make it. We were in as safe a location as any in the town but we still evacuated for good measure. It was a huge fire.
Around the same time I got denied a promotion that I really wanted. I was super sick of my job and needed the variety.
But not only did I not get it, someone newer than me who I once caught coming out of the bar on shift got it. But I never said anything.
Meanwhile my old boss had hated me and written me up for every little thing. Jerked me around on the schedule. It made me crazy. So my work wasn’t great and I got a terrible recommendation.
But still. They gave it to him. I just couldn’t accept it. Still can’t a lot of the time.
So somewhere in there I started cutting. I’d done it a few isolated times before but this was different. This was every day, multiple times a day.
I don’t actually remember the first time I did it after the fire. But it consumed me. I was obsessed with the darkness. Fire. Death. And my blood.
In the midst of all that I started writing poetry to try and do something rather than cut. It worked some. I posted on a bunch of different sites but it never really took off.
Except here on commaful. And man I’ve been grateful for that. I love to think how many people might read a poem or story of mine. And especially since I put up my around the world post.
It’s so cool that people literally all around the world are listening. It’s one of the things I do like about my job.
Truck drivers are from all over the world so I am constantly meeting people from other cultures, even if I can’t travel to visit those cultures myself like I want to.
Since I can’t afford to travel I have pets. Dogs, cats, chickens, fish, even a snake. My son’s technically. But I have to take care of it.
I used to play video games but lately I just watch my fish tank. I have an eighty gallon that had two oscars and a bichir, all young, and they were going to go in a one hundred twenty gallon.
But we are waiting on a remodel for the space. I have the tank, just need the spot. And the contractor keeps putting it off. Argh…
Anyway, I gave away Harley. My beautiful Oscar. To a man who will take exceptional care of him. Then the other oscar immediately started attacking the bichir.
The bichir is literally worth over a hundred dollars and Libby’s favorite so him being picked on wasn’t an option.
So I took the other oscar to the fish store and now I’ve got three tinfoil barbs, one severum, and one blood parrot. But they all get along. Hooray!
I used to play video games but now I pretty much just watch the fish swim. And get juice or milk for my youngest. Occasionally wrestle or play mario kart with them.
And I write what I can and when I can for all of you.
I recently got in to Magic the Gathering. Cause I’m a big dork like that. I didn’t have anyone to play with so I put up a posting at the local market and lo and behold I made a friend.
And now I can play my card game. I go to play it in a few hours. My exciting saturday night. Lol.
So that’s pretty much me. Hopefully I haven’t said anything that will scare anyone off. I thank you, very sincerely, for all the love. It brightens my day!