Karma is a Female Dog (Chapter 2)

Posted: December 15, 2010 in The art of redefining one's self (Ch 2)

“Karma is a Female Dog”

-The art of redefining one’s self (Chapter 2)-

Karma (and all of its bastard offspring) didn’t feel like releasing its lockjaw grip on my life.

By the time my son’s fourteenth year came around, the guilt for essentially abandoning him was constantly heavy on my mind.  Obviously the bad Karma had been created by the poor choices I’d made in the past.  But, lots of things had changed throughout the course of those seven years.  I was married yet again.  We had a son.  I was in a much different place mentally.  I’d been diving into the scientific side of Karma:  Quantum Physics.  It’s a rabbit hole into an entirely new perspective on how everything operates and these principles have been working for me ever since.  Stop being reactive and become proactive.  Once I took into practice the laws of Expectancy, Belief, and Attraction, as if they were laws of Gravity, the world seemed much easier to manage.  Whenever any issues came up, I was able to decode their meanings by working backwards to see where I fit in to the equation; like Karma on steroids.

My new so-called religion was definitely being put to the test.

In 2004 I began to formulate another lavish idea by reaching out to my ex-wife through email after so many years of radio silence.  Not knowing what to expect, I worded things delicately.   The last thing I wanted to be was the bull in the China shop.  This wasn’t meant to be about barging back in through doors of my son’s life and making things difficult for them.  This was meant to be a mild reminder that I have had much time to understand the how’s and why’s of my past.  I had a debt to Karma and it was going to be paid with reverence and respect.  It didn’t even matter anymore, to me at least, what the original issues were.  All I wanted them to know was that not a day had past that I haven’t regretted signing those adoption papers.

The crow I ate was stomach-bursting.  I embraced the toilet of humility and puked every bit of pride-like bile into it.  Still, I was met with much opposition and mistrust… which, I fully expected.  This wasn’t going to be easy, nor would it thwart my attempt to get the message across.  I persisted until my ex finally agreed to let my son know I was trying to reach him… and, we reunited in Elko for a weekend a short time later.  Everything seemed great.  My parents came in from California and my wife’s parents flew in from North Carolina to reunite together in a hotel suite courtesy of my father.

My son mentioned many times how bad he wanted to continue seeing us beyond the weekend.  It was miserable where he was living, he said, and he could no longer take not being able to talk about me to anyone.  My name was forbidden so he knew little about me.  He wanted to come to Boise and get to know his real dad without any negative influence.

Well, the influence was in full force.  Not long after I got back to Idaho that Sunday, basking in the happy feelings of accomplishment, I received an email from my son telling me that actually I wasn’t wanted his life… It was all a joke.  He went on to state how I’m a worthless father and don’t deserve any kid to call me dad.  Don’t call again.  Don’t try to reach me.  In other words… fuck off.

Devastated, I called my ex for an ex-planation.  I received a run-around story about how he came home from our weekend visit hours ago, but they haven’t been able to stop him from crying because of the trauma from seeing me after all of that time.  Apparently I caused more bad Karma than I’d realized.  Of course, I now understand how much bull crap was for sale in that pasture… and I bought it all up.

Another five years went by without a word from my son.  Although difficult, I continued with the new system of Karma, convincing myself like some twisted religion that there was still more I could’ve done to prevent this much animosity, and even more I could do to make it better.  But, I also had four other children between my 2nd and 3rd marriages to care for. Children who actually appreciate, love, and enjoy seeing me.  There was no time to get wrapped up in a bunch of, “Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda’s”.  The past couldn’t be undone.

After my 3rd marriage inevitably fizzled out, my approach to most things took another major U-turn.  Life was miserable for about a year as I bounced around from friend to friend, burning some bridges, building others, sleeping on floors, couches, and the falling apart ‘94 Dodge Caravan I got from my 3rd divorce.  Things were moving too awkwardly to care about the Karma mixed so deeply into the confusion.  It wasn’t until after many more months, when I was thirty-four, that I ended up on my own completely for the first time since initially moving from my childhood home.

I secured an apartment to raise the four kids who didn’t have an issue with calling me, “Daddy”, while making sure there was balance with the two exes I didn’t actually have deplorable relationships with.  For the most part, as long as I ‘went with the tide’, things were copasetic. Important discoveries were made as I realized what defines a ‘Doug’.  There wasn’t much I’d kept around from my teenager idiosyncrasies in this new paradigm.  Through many trials and errors, I’d developed into something I was more-or-less proud to be.  I wasn’t about to allow anything to sway me from that.  Confidence: secured.  I didn’t need anything else but my kids.  To hell with relationships!

…and then came Sarah.

…to be continued tomorrow’s eve…

  1. MIKE GREEN says:

    i think I’ll be more caught up to speed with what’s next.

  2. karen Morgan says:

    Still hanging on every word.

  3. 95DollarDivorce.com says:

    You are a great writer…

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