The Quiet Death of a Nobody

                                    "The Quiet Death of a Nobody"                  10/30/15           

              A Stream-of-Consciousness Requiem 
 "When the music's over  
  When the music's over 
  When the music's over 
  Turn out the lights 
  Turn out the lights
  Turn out the lights
  For the music is your special friend
  Dance on fire as it intends
  Music is your only friend
     Until the End
     Until the End"
©Jim Morrison, The Doors
                  It was on this date that "Rob" H went to meet his beloved maker. But please don't pity him, he wouldn't want that.
He passed quietly in his sleep, but really, it was his "Heart" that gave out.
Truth be told, he'd died many years before, but his body remained alive. 
He is survived by his Lovely Wife/BFF Rachel, their pets, Mischa, Brutus, Muffin, and Kit, along with a few True friends, and Children/Grand Children whom he had the Utmost Respect, and Love for.
He lived through a violent, abusive, volatile, adolescent upbringing, and was basically "invisible", a nobody. Not even a blip on the radar. 
His family moved every year, never building lasting friendships, or roots, or having anyone to trust, or to encourage him to believe in himself. Often he wished his world would just stop spinning, so he could have, and keep a friend.
He never accomplished anything worthwhile in his life. He never bought a brand new car, or house on his own. He never did anything of note.
He just existed.
Rob enlisted in the Armed Forces at age 19, in 1981, to faithfully serve his country until 1985. Afterwards, he lived the life of a blue collar bum, because that's all he could see himself as. 
He was just a Bum, a Worthless Person. 
Not many people knew that, but He Did, all too well. He smiled all the time in public, and always had a kind, compassionate word for those suffering, or in need.
And he helped as many as he could along the way, in whatever way he was able, and yet even that did little to help his self esteem.
But behind closed doors, the smile was gone, there was no one there to hide his pains and failures from, just the overwhelming darkness waiting for him.
Shame and Failure were his constant companions, because he isolated himself, and alienated the very ones he loved. He thought he was protecting them. He was Wrong.
He wasn't very much fun to be around for very long. The results of the various pains, and injuries he endured daily for 25 years were Hard for others to watch, and he Knew it, Gregg Allman knew it. 
By Choice, he became a Recluse. 
His pride took a beating every time he disappointed his wife with his inability to live any type of lifestyle, and provide for her, in the way he secretly wished he could. 
Eventually, he turned that disappointment inward, Beating, and Berating himself More Brutally than his step father had so often done.
He could have been Anything, Anyone. Turns out he was smart enough, but he chose to leave this life with a legacy of strings of Failures. 
Parental brainwashing at an early age can be a dangerous nemesis, and an Unbearable Demon to overcome. Millions of "others" overcame such tragedies, but Not him.
He adored Words and Music, and relentlessly practiced guitar as a teenager, Hoping and Dreaming of "Making Something" of himself, but allowed himself to believe he'd Never be Anything, because that's what his "Family" conveyed to him. 
Besides a career in Music, he also dreamt of a career as a concert photographer, and worked locally on his portfolio for years.
But after a series of disabling, work-related injuries over the years, he "retired" early, after only 26 years in the work force, barely functioning, and barely living. 
He was the Black Sheep, the Disappointment, though he was never arrested, or involved in illicit behavior. He walked a straight line, but to his "parents" that wasn't good enough either. 
Even the fact that he was the First Person in his Family to Graduate High School didn't suffice. His mother never attended his graduation.
His favorite lyric, a chorus from the Goo Goo Dolls song "Iris" stated:
"And I don't want the world to see me
 'Cos I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am..."
He was a Dreamer. A Oaradox. An Enigma, buried within a Mystery, stuffed into a box in the closet, and then dumped inside a Deep Dark Hole he chose to live in, Irreparably Broken. 
A Lost and Damaged Soul. That was his "Normal", and the "Known", is always easier to handle than the Unknown, no matter how bad the "Known" is.
There will be no funeral, What's the point?  
Just a "poor man's" disposal of ashes. A Potters Field in the wind.
Very Few Cared, because he didn't make it easy to care, being Frightfully Shy, and keeping many at arms length. 
Perhaps he was Afraid of Infecting those he Cared for, with his Disease of Failures. Maybe that was his way of Showing his Love....his Way of saying..."Don't Be Like Me".
But for all his failures, he Loved, he Cared, and he Hurt Deeply when others Hurt, More than he Ever let on, whether Human or Animal. 
He gave as many Honest, Caring, Encouraging words to people, both young and old, as he Knew to give. Anything so they wouldn't have to suffer the Hell he allowed to rule his own life, the Hell that refused to turn him loose. 
Anything to "Break the Cycle", Anything to Leave this World a bit Better.
That was perhaps the Only thing he succeeded at, Never Physically, Mentally, or Verbally Abusing Anyone the way he had been. 
He loved Animals, but even There he Failed. One summer, he fostered a sick black lab back to health. 
He loved her, fed and watered her, bathed and medicated her, curled up, and slept with her at night, and when it was stormy, he talked soothingly to her, loved on her, and helped calm her down. 
A couple months ago, she was in the clinic, with her new family, and she tried to Attack him. Everything he Touched fell to pieces.
The same story with his recent "Rescue". He gave his whole heart, time, and care to, and in the end, this dog is being put to "sleep". Yet one more failure to add to the rapidly growing heap. 
Like the oft-seen statue of "Atlas" Struggling to carry the weight of the World on his shoulders, but never being able to stand up, so it was for Rob. 
Struggling to balance the weight of no longer being a "man", along with his failures, financial inadequacies, shame, and broken heart. 
A Perfect Loser. 
He Wasted his Life.
I know Rob was tired. 
Tired of the never ending, Never controlled physical pain that dominated his life, that he often Thanked God for, simply because the Bible says "In Everything Give Thanks". 
Tired of pain-filled sleepless nights.
Tired of living in a world where street thugs stage a home invasion, and happily take turns raping a 78 year old woman. 
Tired of evil. 
Tired of waking up every morning. 
Tired of being afraid to go to sleep, for all the nightmares that haunted and terrified him. 
Tired of his own failures, and the ghosts of shame, and mental illness that haunted him, beating him down when he was at his lowest points.
In the end, I think he "Drowned" in all the Tears he couldn't shed, for a world so cruel, and for those suffered and succumbed to it. 
May God have Mercy on his soul.
And may his soul find the rest he long dreamt of.