Anchor of the Heart

Everyone has an anchor of the heart; that cause, that belief, that life event, and at the mention of its name, the anchor drops and tears come to their eyes.

Mine is autism. And it leaves little to wonder why. All three of my boys are on the Autism Spectrum Disorder. My wife and I have been the subjects of criticism and curious stares, but walk a mile in my shoes and maybe you’ll understand.

Whether it’s autism or down syndrome or something else, I feel for the parents and the children. Because I know that it isn’t easy. It wasn’t meant to be.

Here are a couple of videos I’d like to share and they bring tears to my eyes each time I watch them.

What’s the anchor of your heart?


(This little girl is autistic and can sing better than most people I know).



I’m in a mood today. And I have no other way to explain it. I feel drained. As if a vampire latched onto my body and sucked every last ounce of blood. My body feels weak and my heart feels numb.

I don’t want to deal with coworkers drama or the complaints of the elderly. If I can just shut them all out and make them go away, that would be fine by me.

I don’t want to be an adult today. I just want to be left alone to my own place and mind. I’m betting that by the time this day is through, I’m going to go off on someone and it ain’t going to be pretty.


Is Your Man Alone? By T.D. Jakes

As a man who deals with suicidal thoughts, this video resonates with me. I’ll explain later in another post. I’ve watched it a million times and it still speaks to me. I hope it speaks to men and women alike.

But I would like to make this point: ever wonder why your man never wants to go see the doctor?

For one thing, he doesn’t want to admit that he has a problem that he can’t control, something that has life-long implications where there is no quick fix. And another is that he doesn’t know how to cry for help. He doesn’t know how to express himself. Or, as T.D. said, from the time we are little boys, we are taught not to say anything-suck it up!

Anyway, that’s my thought for the night. Like I said, I hope this speaks to men and women alike, as it has me. If I could cry, I would cry a trail of tears. Heed the words of a man who knows.

Your man, in the depths of his heart, just might be dying.


Porn and Feet

Since I talked about it last, the porn collection on my phone has gone from thirty-seven to one-hundred and thirteen. The weather here is so damn drab: warm one day and cold the next. But I can’t blame it on the weather. I have to call it what it is: sin.

As odd as it may sound, but I look at women’s feet when I watch porn. Hell, I look at their feet whenever I’m out in the store. It’s just something I’ve dealt with since…I don’t know when.

To have a foot fetish isn’t a sin…it’s just taboo, I guess. If a woman is willing to take care of her feet, what’s the big deal? I never could understand why it’s considered hot to put someone’s private in your mouth, but to want to suck on a woman’s toes is thought to be gross.

That is my thought for the day anyway.



Sometimes I wish I was a Catholic. That way, I can go into that little box of theirs and say, “forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” And then go into a tirade of how truly fucked up I am. What does a priest think the whole time he’s in there? Does he spend all day in there?

I’ve always thought of myself as sort of a douche bag. Or, as I told someone not long ago, a shit bag idiot! The truth hurts.

Of all the types of porn I like to watch and download, is cuckold porn. You know, the kind where the husband stands back and records. I hate it when the husband talks. It’s like, shut up and let her have sex! She ain’t interested in your asinine questions.

I don’t really get into studio porn. The women’s bodies are too perfect and their tits are fake. Besides that, they’re always dry. I can’t help but think that would hurt. How can anyone get satisfaction out of a dry pussy?

About five years ago, my wife went to a concert with friends and that left me alone for the evening. You would think that with the late afternoon and evening all to myself, I would spend it in a sports bar or something. Nope. Not me. Not this idiot.

I went to a truck stop I knew sold porn and bought a couple DVDs. I called a free phone sex chat line, got onto the male side of it and played it off like my wife was getting screwed. There were some who smart enough to know better. Guys can be so stupid when it comes to sex or anything sexually related.

I’ve posted ads on CL (now defunct), asking for men to fuck my wife and always received a plethora of offers. One year, I advertised in Detroit, Michigan, explaining that my wife and I would be up there for the movement festival and I was looking for a black guy. To my surprise, I got quite a few professional black men to answer. I guess perversion is not a respecter of race or social status.

I guess, with pornography, I use it as a way to escape life’s frustrations. I fool myself into thinking that I can control it. In living vicariously through a porn video, its controlling me. Allow me to give you a few examples.

A couple of years ago, my family and I were living in a second floor apartment. Now, with my boy’s autism, they don’t have the presence of mind like what we do when it comes to their health and wellbeing. Suffice it to say, that when they are uncovered at night and freezing their asses off, they don’t have the cognition to cover up. At least, they didn’t back then.

I have always tried to remain vigilant of my boy’s comfort level. If I am cold, odds are, they are too. One night I came home from work, and for reasons known only to my wife, she had the air conditioning on during a fifty degree weather night. Our youngest was just a baby and our oldest had decided he wanted to get up and sleep with us. However, our middle son, stayed in his bed. When I went to check on him, all he had on was a pair of underwear, he was uncovered and shivering.

The way their bed was positioned, it was right under the central air duct. I had a hoodie and sweat pants on. Promptly, I climbed into bed, covered us both up and curled my body around him as best I could. This made me feel so sad. When I told my wife about it the next morning, want to guess what she said?

“At least, we know he can sleep in the cold!”

Sweet Jesus! Are you fucking kidding me?!

And that is a shining, blatant example of the way my marriage has been. One tries to have common sense and the other isn’t even in the same fucking galaxy! Fuck!

Oh, and my other problem is that I don’t forget shit!

Last November, the stomach flu was going around in my family. And on the day that I caught it, my wife decided to give me hell about the women I work with being on my FB. Let me just say this about women in the medical field and friendships: they’re fickle. They hate one another one month and love each other the next.

Me? I’m an equal opportunity hater! If I don’t like you, chances are that isn’t going to change. Not unless you show me that you’re willing to treat others with more respect. I don’t care if you can give me the best blow job of my life, I’m still not gonna like you.

So, anyway, there I am one day getting ready for work, and my wife is bitching me up one side and down the other. I asked her many times to please stop! Can we talk about this some other time? I’m not feeling good!

Did she? No. She followed me all over the house, chewing my ass out. Her sister called as I was making myself some coffee and my wife mentioned that I was getting the virus.

I said, “like you care!”

“Shut the fuck up!” was her reply. “I’m not in the mood for your shit!”

When I came home in the middle of my shift, rendered useless by the virus, then she felt guilty. She apologized, of course. Too late. The damage has already been done. Its filed away in the part of my brain titled, My Wife’s Stupid Shit!

I could go on and on of how I’ve been misused and mistreated. But then I would be writing a book and not a blog post. I’m not saying I’m perfect. Far be it from me to so audacious. But I can say that I tried.

Those sound like the words of a man who has given up, don’t they?



People think that I am angry at God. I’m not angry at God. He’s not responsible for this broken heart of mine, the guilt, shame and regret. He’s not responsible for the fatigue and exhaustion.

People tell me I should pray, but I don’t know what I should pray for. What is righteous and what is of selfish ambition?

Jesus once said that when something loses it saltiness, how can it be made salty again? How can something be relit once it has burnt out?


Hug the Cactus with Afterthought

I haven’t posted in a while. And there’s probably a good reason for that. Watch the short clip below.

Did you watch it? Good. I absolutely love this. Robert Downey, Jr. and Mel Gibson are two men that I admire. They’re flawed, they make mistakes, go through rough patches in their lives, and they don’t try to hide it. Not like the rest of the hypocrites sitting in attendance at the self-congratulatory ceremonies.

If you don’t like them, that’s fine. But I don’t think they really give a fuck. It was sad to see Mel go through a such a rough patch in life after he made the Passion of the Christ. Leftists were having a fucking field day.

What? A Christian isn’t perfect? Say it ain’t so! Why is it men like Mel cannot be a flawed human but men like Aleck Baldwin can?

Enough about Hollywood. A majority of them are a bunch of millionaire high schoolers anyway.

Let’s talk about me.

I guess a reason why I haven’t written much here lately, is because I’ve had to hug my own cactus. I’ve had to confront my own demons; my negativity, low self-esteem, porn addiction, and this unfading feeling that something is missing from my life.

When it comes to porn, it’s like I’m fighting a neverending battle. I’m reminded of when Paul wrote in Romans 7: “for the things I don’t want to do, this I keep on doing.” He later summarized by saying, “even though I want to do what is good, evil is right there with me.” Right now, at this moment, I have thirty-seven porn videos downloaded to my phone.

Now, someone can say that I should just delete them and I won’t be tempted. I have found that to be a lie. If I’m not tempted with the porn I have on my phone, then I am tempted with sex Gifs; if I’m not tempted with a sex story, then I am tempted with a lustful eye. I’ve downloaded porn before and deleted it, only to be left with a feeling of despair, of panic.

I’ve heard people say that we are supposed to love ourselves, even out faults and failures. How can I love something in me that I hate? And I’m not just talking about porn. How can I love a regret?

Is porn the root of all my depression? I highly doubt it. I’m so frustrated in life right now! I can’t find words to describe it!

In the video, Downey says, “embrace that part of my soul that is ugly.” How do I do that? More importantly, how does one trust in the Lord as some make it sound so easy?

Have I been hugging my cactus in vain?

Graveyard Night


I guess another needle of this cactus that’s poking my torso is autism. Ask any autism parent and they will tell you it’s hard. They have that constant look of stress on their face, worry in their minds, strain in their voice, and they’re crying inside and nobody hears them. If they are like me, they have a plethora of people telling them how they should raise their boys, what they’re doing right, doing wrong. It’s like, excuse me! Are you living my life?

You know, after meeting my son’s teacher and his classmates the first time, I went home and cried. I did. I sat and wept like a baby. I love my boys, but I have to ask, what did I do wrong? Can I do something different that would get my boys to talk?

Not long ago, I had a dream of my oldest son talking. He said, “is this good for me?”

Romans 8 says that “God works all things out to the good for those who love him.” Now I wonder if that was me saying that and my son was just echoing my words?

Is this good for me?