Three Forks Montana: The Grand Finale of My Childhood

You may wonder, why share all this on the internet? Why make a spectacle of myself. Why share family secrets? Well, you see, every bad thing that happens to me is mine to own. When someone does something to me, I own it. It's mine to do with as I wish. If you are hurtful, rude, spiteful, or abusive, I will write about it. I won't hide in shame like others want me to do. If it's uncomfortable, all I can say is "too bad." I'm willing to deal with the discomfort. 

I want to talk a bit more about my life. When I was young I lived in a town called Three Forks, Montana. It is a small town nestled between mountains and rivers. To the north is Helena, the state capital (the place I was born). To the west is Bozeman, the closest large city. To the east is Butte, once a legendary mining town. I never spent much time in Butte. My first memories are of life in Helena. I used to go to Bozeman a lot with my friends. 

It is strange even writing about this period of life, as it seems so long ago. I went to high school in Three Forks and briefly left to go to Spokane for a few months. Although Spokane was a bigger city, I did not care for life there that much. My grandparents thought it would be better for me to go live with them, however, and with my mother moping around all day and looking at abortion pictures and cheating on my dad with various men on the internet, I could not say that I wasn't tempted to try something new.

I was very depressed back then. I would say that I have battled depression much of my life. Going to Spokane was hard for me because I did not have any friends there, nor did I know how to make any. I had a good amount of friends in Three Forks. The good thing about growing up in a small town is you get to know a lot of people quite well. There were some people who were total douches, but for the most part, I liked everyone well enough. 

In Three Forks I had a couple of jobs. I worked at Subway at one point and later on I would work at the Sacajawea hotel. I planned on finding work in Spokane, but like at this point in my life, finding work seemed impossible. Granted, back then I didn't have a ton of experience and three degrees. I was a 17 year old kid whose resume said "Sandwich Artist" on it. Yet, not even the Subway in Spokane seemed interested in my artistry. 

School in Spokane was difficult. I did not know anyone and felt like an absolute paper weight. I don't think I made a single friend. It was so big, so impersonal. I spent 2 hours every day riding the bus. I left at dark and got home at dark. It was winter. I have seasonal depression as well. I didn't know that was a thing back then. Yay! 

I was dating someone online during my time in Spokane. She was not the greatest person in the world for me. I'll just say that. I've written enough about her in my life and don't need to resurrect her here. Everyone in Three Forks that I knew was well aware of her. They probably thought I was insane for having an online girlfriend. This was back when the internet was somewhat new. I have always been quite strange. 

Anyway, one day in Spokane I was feeling quite low and told a couple people in a chat room that I was thinking of killing myself. I wasn't serious. I guess I wanted attention. I got it. Two cops came to the door and asked if I was okay. I said I was. My grandparents woke up and asked why the police were there. I said they were looking for someone (I didn't tell them it was me). They said the police were always looking for someone there. They were the managers of a mobile home park and some of the tenants were strange. I was glad they didn't find out it was me. My little heart was racing. I went back in and I berated the people who called the police. I let them have it. They said they cared about me. I told them to "stop caring." 

After a couple months I decided it was time to go back to Three Forks. I missed my friends. A couple of my friends had their own place and said I could move on. My grandparents said that it would be wise for me not to move in with my parents. I agreed.

My grandmother died when I lived in Egypt. I had not talked to her for a year before she died. I sent her an email the day before she died, but I doubt she read it. I never spoke to my grandfather after that. He died a year or two after she did. If they were still alive I would love to tell them what I had found out about my mother, and her lack of love for me. I never knew that when they were alive. I don't think they knew it either. But maybe they knew something that I did not. They must have, as they did know back then that living with my mother was not in my best interest.

My mother nursed the wounds of childhood by looking at image after image of aborted babies. Then she would take out her aggression on me. While I planned on moving in with my friends, that did not materialize. I didn't want to stay in Three Forks. I wanted to GTFO of there when I graduated. At my grandparents house I had turned 18 and graduation was a couple months away. After graduation I was going to get out come hell or high water. My mother made it difficult for me each day, however. She had become a demon. She was now dating a man named Joseph Phal and was going to soon move to Hawaii to live with him. Her happiness was there. Years later we'd all meet at Burger King in what I think was North Bend to hear how Joe had been beating her ever since she flew to Hawaii. Fun!

It was easy for mother to blame me for the world's abortion clinics. After all, I was in some weird way responsible for her first abortion. Her parents who I had lived with in Spokane had no clue that I was unlovable because they loved me. They just knew that living in Three Forks with her was not in my best interest. 

I have a memory from when I was much younger of my grandparents pulling my mother aside and asking her why she was so hard on me. They said, almost prophetically that one day I would resent her. At that moment I knew I would. I can imagine that every instance of her protecting me was something that she resented deeply. Yet, I did not know it then. 

It is such a strange thing to put together a puzzle and assemble memories. Each little piece fits together in ways you never imagined. My mother never knew that by telling me that she could not love me as a child would be the missing piece I needed. She never knew just how it would forever seal my absence. Yet, I am so thankful that I have it. 

I graduated high school with honors. I was blown away. I had a craptastic GPA but since I had improved so much during my senior year, I was "honorable." What I would do next was not honorable, however. I decided I had to get the hell out of that town. I told my friends that I was going to write some checks, cash them at casinos, and take the money and run run rudolph. The plan was to go to Seattle. It was close to where my now ex-girlfriend lived. I hoped that maybe we'd get back together and get married as I had planned. She dumped me the night of my senior prom. I asked another girl to go out with me. Her name was Jessica. I thought she'd say no. She didn't and I felt so stupid. She was such a sweet girl, but I could not go out with someone when I already had a girlfriend. I was an idiot to even ask. I was so used to rejection that I never could have expected her to be interested at all.

Writing checks and buying a greyhound bus ticket to San Francisco and then onward to Seattle was one of the bravest things I've ever done. It was also quite stupid. I became "wanted" by the police shortly after. A warrant went out for my arrest. I heard that my parents had a visit from the cops, but by that time I was already in California. There will be more to this story later, but this is just the beginning of an adventure and my adult life. 

Life gives us a puzzle to put together. The pieces of my puzzle continue to fall into place. I could easily forget the past and move on. Yet, I wonder why I was strung along all these years. Why was I not let free rather than kept a mental prisoner by my family? Why was I guilted to continue to go there when I was not loved? Why was I told how to live my own life rather than being allowed to be free? This is what I find hard to let go of. I have learned the truth and want nothing to do with my extended family anymore. My grandparents were right: Living with that woman was not wise. They knew it before I did. I wish they had sat me down and asked me why. However, I know that if they were still alive I would not speak to them. I stopped speaking to my grandparents shortly after my mom played the "disowning game" with me. A year later they died wondering why I disappeared. 

I can't say that I liked Three Forks that much. It was a small town where I did not fit in. Story of my life. I did not fit in with my family, so why could I expect to integrate into some small town in Montana? Small towns are the absolute worst places to find acceptance unless you are from a multi-generational family or own a business, or work as a pastor. Even when I worked as a quasi-pastor in a church I didn't find acceptance. Maybe people just fear those types. Who knows? All I know is that I am seeing things that I did not see before. Parents who can't love their children should not be making babies. *MIC DROP*

57.28.221.10.1 :) 

Sophie's Life-Changing Quote

When at Kalaloch Lodge on Washington's rugged Olympic National Park coast, I met a friend named Sophie. From the moment I saw her, I knew she was special. I have that kind of eye. I can see things that many can't see. Yet, I did not have any idea of how things would progress, and the story of Sophie is one of the biggest adventures I had at Kalaloch Lodge.

One of the things that Sophie told me would resonate with me deeply. I don't know if I am quoting it right, but the saying goes, "There is nothing more dangerous than someone without anything to lose." 

Not so long ago I would have never dreamed of making a blog like this. I may have tested the water, but out of a desire to keep the peace, I would have backpedaled. This would have given my family and others cause for a sigh of relief. Years passed, however, and I saw that nothing was ever going to change. I imagined that somewhere along the timeline of life, things would change. They never did. 

The last year has brought about much loss in friendships. I did not do anything out of the ordinary. I only acted in the normal course of my life. Yet, that was something that many could not deal with. I was given two choices: Continue along on my normal path, accepting that I was a doormat and that people could treat me like garbage and I'd be silent. The other path was speaking out against it and standing up for myself. A major shakeup was in order. When I went back into a world of deep depression, I knew that something had to change. 

People are like big dumb animals. They use brute strength to keep each other in line. They will do what they can to maintain their life. They will be friendly and social with those who are right in front of them. The moment you step away, you are forgotten or worse. When you come around again, you have to fight for your place. Your looks, status, and wit determine everything about your success. I don't have the first two things going for me. Therefore, I only have wit as a weapon. But it was a weapon I was told not to use. People were content with me being an "ugly, powerless loser" in the world. I gave in for such a long time. I'd take whatever crumbs of acceptance I could gather off the forest floor of life. But the crumbs became less and less. No matter what I did to better my life, the less I was given. 

They say that those who are happy and outgoing do well in life. I saw this for a while. But there is one glaring problem that comes with that. Jealous and envious people will try their hardest to derail you and destroy you when you are happy. They want you to wallow in their own misery. It was my family's goal to take me down to the miserable person they spent years crafting. My sister did not skip a beat when she piled more of my family's trademark guilt upon me. Keep in mind, that this was something new to me. We had never fought before. Yet, under the banner of my mother, a person who has a history of destroying her family, this was par for the course. 

My mother, bless her cold black half-dead (but she's a vegan at least) heart, always found pleasure in destroying the lives of others. If someone got on her bad side (which was so easy to do), she'd find ways to drive people crazy. Now my sister lives in her house and I wonder, is she happy? If her text was any indication, I'd say a resounding no! There is no hell like living with a toxic family. 

"There is no one more dangerous than someone with nothing left to lose" -Sophie.

When I created this blog I had nothing else to lose. I was backed into a corner. I had lost friends. I had lost my (extended) family. I had lost much. And I realized I could either speak out and regain something or just wither into a pile of nothing. I didn't want to lose everything. I had already given up so much! It was time to bring out the big guns! Those guns are here, firing over and over. This is the gun. This blog is my "big gun!" 

To be honest, I must say that this blog has been somewhat life-changing for me as well. I no longer feel this intense need to make everyone happy. I can now tell things as they are. I create boundaries and don't care what others think. I used to care so much about what others thought of me. I was an afraid, weak, people-pleaser. Even recently I thought I had lost all my friends and I learned to live with it. I realize that there will always be some who stick by your side and there will be many who disappear when you start being real. That sucks, but that's life. Learning that and embracing it, filtering out the fake people is a way to see who really thinks anything of you. The rest should have never had a place in your life. That's harsh, but it's true. Don't waste your time with people who will use, abuse, and eat you up. If people leave you for expressing yourself, then that's their insecurity screaming and you are better off letting them go off into the sunset.

This blog has been a powerful exercise for me. When I created this blog it was to talk about issues that came upon from families with various dysfunctions. Then it morphed into my family. Then with my former job and the feelings I had there, I was able to work through it by writing here. I came to the conclusion that it was not just my job that was toxic, but my whole outlook on life. I realized that it was going back to my family right after leaving my job that was so harmful. And then I completely railed against my family. I explored the inner nature of my darkest side. The side of me that could do things that I never imagined I could do. I realized that I am not a "good person" and that it's okay. I have been exploring the themes of sociopathy and deviancy and realize that people have various ways of coping with hardships. That some of us are just wired as we are. I have realized that I lived in a bubble. A fantasy. The world has opened up so much to me. I have learned much since my time at Kalaloch, and it has been good. 

Sophie's quote: "There is no one as dangerous as he or she who has nothing to lose" is a powerful reminder of just how when we are stripped of nothing we are armed with great power. Perhaps it is an irony that once we have been all but destroyed we can rise up and take back our lives. 

Sophie, your quote was life-changing in a sense. I didn't see it at the time, but I get it now. I had nothing at all left to lose as I sat down and wrote my blog. I told myself that there was no way in hell I'd delete this thing. I let myself explore deeper and darker avenues of thought as I wrote post after post. I've only deleted one entry, to bring it back later. The words I put here are powerful. They have their place. They are words of affirmation and growth. They are reminders.

I once wrote a letter that I stored on my computer when I was staying with my in-laws. It was a reminder of how hard it was to be there. I found that I would likely return unless I had something to look back on. That letter served me well. I looked at it often and was reminded why I needed my own space in life. No offense to my in-laws. They were kind to let us stay there. But I wasn't the right person for it. I didn't belong there. They resented me being there, even though they wouldn't say it in words. My father-in-law despised me a lot about me, and now I understand it. I took his little girl from him. As my little girl grows up I get how he struggled with that. It's a hard thing. I was not who they wanted for their child. I am sorry about that. But that's just how it turned out. 

Likewise, I will keep this blog as a reminder to never, ever again deal with my own family. I can never let my guard down. I never can think back to the "good times" and say "Oh, things will be different next time." No. They will never again be different. They will always be the same, forever and ever, until the graves are dug and the bodies are gently laid inside. People rarely change. It takes a huge huge desire to change that most people never can muster. Even with the desire overflowing, many can't make changes. Something holds them back. I don't think my family has any desire to change. And that's fine. But they are not fit for me. I was never fit to be their child. My mother said it best: "I could not love you, even as a baby." That's fine. But this I can't easily forgive her for: SHE SHOULD HAVE NEVER STRUNG ME ALONG. SHE SHOULD HAVE LET ME GO. How dare she even assert that have wanted to see me on my last visit? Had she stated a long time ago how she felt and sent me off, I would have been far better off than the mental game of cat and mouse. I get that emotions are difficult and that some feelings must have been there for her, but the woman disowned me, played with me, and then strung me along. I can't play such stupid games. And I won't. Now the whole family has to deal with the fallout. 

Sophie, your quote has given me hope and a sense of inner peace that I am humbled by. I see people who have lost everything in life, only to rise again and take the bull we call life by the horns! Look at people like Viktor Frankl, who was almost destroyed and then became a superstar of psychology. Nothing at all to lose! Oprah Winfrey. J.K. Fuc*ing Rowling. Legends. They were used, abused, and then propelled into household names. What would have become of them had they been comfortable, sitting on their butts? You'd never touch a Harry Potter book. You would have never sunk your teeth into half the books that Oprah recommended. But now, the world has changed because of them!

Sophie Dee, that quote you spouted over and over again at Kalaloch Lodge when you were down and out KICKS SOME SERIOUS ASS! When you were flipping burgers and fumbling up Janice's pasta order, your quote was rolling around like a wayward bowling ball granny tossed by a two-year-old in my mind. And there it sat, slowly fermenting, and silently sizzling. Now it's blazing like a flaming tornado! Many. Never saw your genius, your wisdom, your pizazz. Your time was not right. Sometimes we don't realize just how much we touch the world or a person until that person is miles behind them in the rearview mirror. And I know you didn't make up that quote, but you were the conduit in which it was shared. People come into our lives with so many lessons, and if we are willing to learn from them, they can say things that will either turn on like a lightbulb or explode like an atom bomb. 

We are all waiting to be brought to nothing so we can become everything. So many people will never reach their full potential because they have never been steamrolled by life. Like me, many lament and throw a colossal fit when things don't go right only to realize that it was things not going right that made us who we are proud to become. 

If you were moved by this post, please feel free to leave a comment below.

Don't Marry a Person From the Same Hometown As You

I have been reading a book by a self-proclaimed "Pick-up Artist" called A Thousand Tiny Failures. In this book, a young man from Vancouver tells of his exploits with trying to find women in high school, his hometown, and then in Montreal, where he goes because the women are "easy." Most of his friends call him "sleazy" and "weird," but he is devoted to agonizing for days and hours to get a woman for 2 to 3 minutes of pleasure back at his/her place. It's a strange book, but entertaining enough and gives me an idea of how people think. I am also crazy for strange memoir books about lives that are different than mine, and this one fits the bill.

What struck me about this book was the fact that he goes from Montreal back to his hometown in British Columbia and is met by his family with adoration. He moves on, lives in a tent in the backyard to bring women "home" to. His mother and sisters don't suspect a thing. He then has this realization that he doesn't want to settle down with a woman from his hometown and goes to live back in the city—Vancouver.

I have been telling my wife all about this book and suggested she should read it, just so we can laugh about some of it together. I don't know if she will. However, while we took a shower together this morning, I told her the one thing I would have done differently back when I was dating was not going with someone from the place my parents lived in. She didn't like this, of course. After all, she was from the Spokane area.

My parents moved around a LOT when I was a child. Although my grandparents forced my mother into an abortion, and although she could not love me as a result of that, my family followed my grandparents from city to city, state to state. We lived in Helena, Colorado Springs, Greeley, Windsor, Fort Collins, Loveland, Belt (near Great Falls), Belgrade, and Three Forks. I left home at 18 (I'll post more about this later) and came back to live for a few miserable months in Spokane. I never ever expected them to stay in Spokane. The woman I called mother was going to move to Hawaii with her internet fiancé (and she did, then moved to Whidbey Island, Tacoma, and then back to Spokane). My father always talked about moving to Montana or Idaho. Then "mother" started posting on Facebook about how she was going to move to Florida, Costa Rica, and Bali. Yet, after the fantasy faded, she decided that there was nowhere like Spokane. When my grandparents both croaked, I thought they'd disperse. Nope. She sunk her claws in deeper. I think it's because my sister gave her the grandchild she craved.

I wish wish wish wish my family dispersed from Spokane. When we'd talk to new friends and they'd ask us where family was from, we'd say they all lived in Spokane. They'd say, "Awww, that's nice that everyone is together." No, it wasn't nice. It was beyond annoying. Every trip back was laden with guilt. Every trip back was riddled with me trying to figure out how to see everyone in my family, where to meet, and how to navigate all the awkwardness under a cloud of intense guilt for "moving away." My family somewhere along the line learned that they could use this guilt to control me and to get me to visit. When I lived on the opposite side of the state, I was not visited. Perhaps punishment for moving away. But when I'd come to Spokane, the aqueducts of guilt would flow.

Had my family left Spokane, I could have visited all these years in peace. Of course, I don't know if I would have ever gone to see them anywhere else. I don't get on well with them, and as the years passed, I felt more and more distant. When I learned the person I once called mother "could not love me," I realized that there was no point in having any relationship with her. What was the point?

Not all families are happy. Some are absolutely miserable. When going back to where they live is filled with dread, it's a sign that maybe something needs to change. I kept hoping and hoping that things would change. They never did. The last trip was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I now see that my sister blocked me on social media. Perhaps it's because of this blog. She never once talked about any of it. It was "deliver guilt and disappear." I know that this blog is a sore spot in my family. I have not heard one thing about it from anyone. But they must know it exists by now. Yet, they have seen that I finally found a way to stand up for myself. They now know my true thoughts, rather than just suspecting them. I used to be the quiet, good "Christian" child who never raised his voice. I always was meek and apologetic. Always someone to "walk over" and use guilt as a weapon against. Not anymore. Now I know the power that comes with speaking out and having boundaries. It feels good. I wish I did this before. I would not have had to spend tens and tens of thousands of dollars on trips back just to feel guilty about myself as a person.

My family did give me one lasting legacy: a sense of low self-worth that is incredibly hard to shake. I suspect that it will be with me for the rest of my life in some way. I have held it in for so long and don't see how it could be possible to fully rid myself of it. I thought I did for a while. I felt happy and full of beautiful life. But somewhere along the line, it slipped from me. I feel at home in my sense of self-loathing though. I should have known I'd come back to it. It was bound to be. My fallout at Kalaloch and Queets sealed that for me. I will always be, in the eyes of many, "nothing," lower than dirt. It is how I see myself when I speak to others. My wife recently asked me to find a group of people or make some friends. I found this disturbing. I don't want friends. I don't want to be seen. I want to be left alone. I feel dirty. I feel disgusting. I feel used, like an old condom thrown on the street that parents shoo their children from when they see it.

I am not the only one with these feelings. I know that many feel it too. I look at my wife's family and my own and I see it in many of them. As we all get older, our view of self-worth plummets. Life has not been easy for us. The depression I saw in Spokane on my previous visits has proven that. It's been a downward spiral in so many ways. Look at us though! I posted about this before and I'll say it again: We are a truly sad lot of people. We have a legacy of failures that we have left behind us. Many of us had dreams that we now realize will never materialize. We have battled and still battle poverty. We fight/fought like cats and dogs. We try to get along, but I know that we'd be at each other's throats again if we were younger and full of life and dreams. Some of us have been abused. We have people with savior complexes, sex and love addicts, drug addicts, porn addicts, and abusers of all kinds in our ranks. A few decades will pass and we will all die forgotten. Maybe some of us will be given a nice headstone and casket like the father-in-law. Others will be cremated, spread out into the wind, and forgotten for all time.

But at least death comes with a sense of relief that can't be quantified. No more caring about what others think, the past, or abuse. No more guilt piled on us for not being good enough for people who could never love us. Let us suck the teat of whatever pleasure we can get. Whether it be an afternoon lesbian porn session, a needle in the arm, or cutting our bodies to numb the pain (but crawling back to the source of that pain like a sad lost little puppy) we feel in real life. Thank you for reading.

Insecurity is So Ugly and So Contagious

Insecurity is truly the most ugly thing in the world. It is also truly contagious. Caring too much what others think about us is trouble. Caring that others think like us is trouble. And wanting to be liked by everyone is trouble, too. I learned this the hard way. At Kalaloch Lodge I wanted to be accepted, liked, loved even. At first, I didn't care. Not one bit. I just wanted to do my job and make money. That was good. Then I felt popular, and that is a curse. I don't ever want that feeling again. I just want to be. I don't want to ever feel like I need to be liked or to fit in. The problem with Kalaloch Lodge was that I could have never fit in there because it's so different from who I am. But I tried, and I changed aspects of myself as I drank the Kool-Aid.

Read more about my thoughts on Kalaloch as they evolved:

Sometimes You Got To Go On Without Answers
"Kalaloch Lodge, in the words of Vanessa S., is a "magical place." But as she (and later I) found out, magic has a way of vanishing."

From Swaggar To Scandal: Dom's Infamous Summer
"Perhaps more striking was the reaction we both had when we were told we were not welcome back. Dom sent the General Manager many hateful emails and I created this blog. Let's just say that both of us don't react well to rejection."

Now that Kalaloch Lodge is behind me, I turn once again to the issue at hand: Family. My family and my wife's family are often very insecure about me and what I think of them. My family is now a memory, so this won't apply to them. I no longer speak to them and have no plans to. Their insecurity is probably warranted, as I am now out of the picture for how they did act. But my feelings and thoughts should no longer matter to them. I am dust.

My in-laws often care way too damn much about what I think. It annoys me and drives me far away. I tell them this: Let's just coexist, and when I need to take a break or get silent or leave Facebook, don't go to my wife about it. Just let me be. Also: I am not of your religion any longer. Stop being self-conscious about it. You are lucky that I was deluded for long enough to give in to that line of thinking. I want nothing at all to do with that. That's your world, not mine.

The last visit to Spokane was such a shit show. I'm sorry if that bothers you. I'm sorry if not getting along with your late father bothers you. I am sorry that your insecurity about my thoughts and feelings in life bothers you. If you don't like it, don't associate with me. I begrudgingly go there once every 1–2 years, and you don't have to interact with me. I'm nice enough, and I play nice when I'm there. I deal with a lot of crap when I'm there, too. For years I dealt with a lot and got tired of it. To expect me not to become jaded over time is absurd. That's the cost of religious trauma and abuse.

I don't mind being friends with people who are respectful. That's all I ask. Let me be. Stop caring about what I think about you. I really don't care. In the end, I only care about my immediate family and my own life. I like being friends with people, but once their insecurity shows, I tend to bolt. I think insecurity is ugly. I think it's rife in both my wife's and my own family. I hate that aspect of it. Just live. How many years do we have on this planet? Who gives a damn about the little things that don't matter? We all have enough in common to be friends and be civil. I don't need to like or agree with everything you do. I won't ever agree with even half of what my in-laws believe in. I wasn't raised in that world, and I tried to fit in, and it was not me. Be happy I tried. Most people don't even do that. I have a right to express myself. Don't get all butt hurt because I do.

If you have a problem with me, come to me about it. Don't text my wife about it. Don't try to make her mad at me. I don't do that myself. I think it reeks of deep insecurity. No offense, but I do. I like most people. I am willing to let things go. I forgive easily. Way too easily. More easily than is good for me, probably. If you have a problem with me, just say it. I think it's disgusting when people try to destroy others’ reputations behind their backs without going to them first. Sometimes you have to do it, but not before you go to that person and try to tell your side. Many people consider themselves Christians, yet are so fearful that they don't even go to "their brother" before they go off and spew their vitriol.

I left Facebook a while ago because I got sick of all the insecurity. I also didn't like it in me. I decided to let go and realize that I am going to just be myself, and if people don't like it, no problem. I don't care. There are legions of people in the world I can be friends with, and if not, hell, I like my own company. I can draw, listen to music, make love to myself, cook and eat good food, write posts like this, go for nature walks, and read books like "Confessions of a Sociopath." If you don't like yourself, then you're in big trouble! And you start to make trouble with other people. And that pushes people far far away. 

But, what's hella good for me is the fact that I have a wife and a daughter that I adore as well. I'll let others in, but once you start attacking me to others, I'm going to pull the hell away and let you fester in your own pile of misguided hate. I am going to come back slowly and if you want to add me, great. If you can't forgive me for taking a break, well, that's great too! I am honestly so much better off without such people in my life. 

Now, I have moved on from Kalaloch, and it feels good! It was truly what I needed in life. I was wrong about that place, and I posted that on my previous post: https://hellfam.blogspot.com/2025/04/maybe-i-was-wrong-about-kalaloch-lodge.html

I just wish I could say sorry to Elo. She deserves an apology. Same with Amy. Sorry, ladies! You were both great managers, and I was a little b*tch! I admit it freely!

I Want To Reunite All The Old Time Law School Scambloggers

Nando aka Fernando Rodriguez, creator of Third Tier Reality. That name is going to bring back some memories to some. JDPainterGuy, John Koch. Remember him? The Touro Law School grad who worked his butt off trying to pass the bar exam but never quite did. And of course there was me, Mr. Infinity, the one who was instrumental in dissolving some of the scamblogs. So much time has passed. So much has changed. 

Third Tier Reality, the soup du jour of scamblogs is no longer with us. Nando has disappeared into obscurity. Then there was the Colonel. KFC's finest, only appearing on Nando's blog. I always thought it was Nando himself. What a time!

Over ten years have passed now. I was shocked beyond words when JDPainterGuy folded up his blog and kept his word to not post any longer. Surely, he would come back. Nope. He never did. 

The other day I found myself doing an internet search for these folks, but nothing came up. The scamblogs are hanging on by a thread. There is still "outside the law school scam" but it seems like it has been overplayed. Many law schools have shut down. I'm actually quite amazed. I don't follow the legal profession or legal education much anymore. 

Like the once famous JDPainterGuy, I never passed the bar. I only took it once and decided it wasn't for me. I didn't do much in the legal profession. In fact, a few years later I got a masters degree in Education from USC, but didn't really use that one either.  I guess the whole college to job thing isn't my thing. And that's okay. I don't base my self worth on my career or how much I make or prestige from a job. I enjoy the little things in life. Time spent with family. Drawing. Nature. Making love. Writing. Blogging. I don't need to be a lawyer to be happy, and that's where I think I differed from the law school scambloggers. I saw how their obsession over what others thought of them and their worth in life ruined them. I didn't want to be like that. Prestige is just vanity and it ends up as dust in the end. It's not worth trading today for. 

Now, many of the scambloggers were quite angry. And honestly, they were rightfully so. I remember back when JDUnderground was a thing (that one also shut down), there were people who were floored about the legal profession. Honestly, that's why I never really went into it. It seemed like a lost cause to me. Some people hated that. They hoped that I would try and fail and admit that they were right. I never did that. Never really cared that much to be honest. 

I wonder to this day: Should have I went to law school? I still don't really understand why I was so on fire for the legal profession and how it just vanished after graduation. I think that was something many people wondered. Some were shocked that I never used my degree. It cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars and many years of effort. Yet, so much time has passed that it seems like another lifetime.

But I think to myself: Wouldn't it be interesting to get the whole scamblog community together, for old time's sake? Is Nando still alive? Is he still married? Does he still get off on Jessica Alba in his fantasies? What about JDPainterGuy? Did he ever get back with his wife? Did he marry Cryn Johannsen (he had a huge crush on her). I can't imagine what life would be like for everyone. But yes, it's me: Mr. Infinity. This is my life. Blogging about family drama. What a life, huh?

Maybe I Was Wrong About Kalaloch Lodge / An Open Letter to My Family

I want to revisit my thoughts about Kalaloch Lodge and acceptance. I have decided to change my course of thinking and look at it from a holistic angle. I had long believed that I was not accepted at Kalaloch, yet maybe this is wrong. I think back and realize that there were many things that I was invited to. People seemed to want me around and asked about me. I was often absent from things due to my own self-perception or the fact that I called my wife/daughter a lot. There were many people at the lodge who were kind and outgoing towards me.

I also think back to the friends I had and the people I talked to. There was not one person there that I did not get along with. I enjoyed the company of virtually all my coworkers. There was one that I found to be immature, but overall, they were kind and accepting people.

So, what was the issue? I think it was the last day of my work coupled with my return to Spokane to visit my family. I was sad to leave Kalaloch, and especially after such a miserable shift. Add to that the absolute toxic shit-show that is my family, and it was a recipe for disaster. Going back to Spokane has always been a disaster (absolute dumpster fire), and the last time was no exception. It was beyond depressing on all angles. Not just the fact that there was a death in the family. Gloom has long lived over that place, far, far before this event, and I just saw it going further than ever imaginable. My family is beyond insatiable. Their devotion to extending guilt over my life is absurd and frankly disgusting. And I want to focus on that. Not Kalaloch Lodge. Kalaloch Lodge became somewhat of a scapegoat for the pain I felt that happened mostly after I slithered off to a darker hole than one I could have ever imagined.

I May Go Back Into the Hole, But I Won't Visit All the Snakes

I won't say that I'll never again go to Spokane. But I can't ever see myself visiting my family again. I am just absolutely floored, disgusted, and have no other words for it all. I projected their embarrassment of me onto everyone else. Well, the truth is, I am embarrassed of them too. I have long felt just something that did not sit right with me when I visited my family. There was this dark feeling that came over me. I could not place my finger on it. It was never comfortable for me. And I think that it is all making more sense now. My family is the one thing that brings me to self-loathing.

But to pin that on the Lodge was not right. I feel quote bad for Eloria and Amy. I gave them quite the runaround. They did not deserve my ire. Elo blocked me, and I can't say I blame her one bit! They did not deserve to be grilled about it. And I could have been more introspective from the outset. Yes, there were events that pissed me off. Queets angered me while I was there. I felt completely discarded by that place. But perhaps that's also something that I need to explore more as well. Queets isn't my home anymore and really, it should not matter one bit.

I no longer want to feel animosity towards Kalaloch. I had many good friends there. I knew many people who accepted me and were super kind. I want to focus on those people. I am done resenting what was and will begin to appreciate what is. My family is in the past now. I never have to interact with them again. And I will never, ever again allow them to mess with my livelihood or my self-image. I don't give one damn about what guilt my siblings may pile on me. They choose to live in that miasma. I do not. There is a reason my sister cut herself in high school. They FULLY CHOOSE that world!!!!!!! They have no power or burden over me today. Today is a new day, and they are forever one day further behind me.

We are never, ever, ever getting back together
We are never, ever, ever getting back together
You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me
But we are never, ever, ever, ever getting back together
Like, ever
-Taylor Swift

An Open Letter to My Family:

I have given so much over the years but can no longer give you any part of my life. I have become exhausted by the events of life. The truth is, I never should have been involved in this family from the day I moved out. C.P. made it apparent to me that she wanted nothing to do with me as a child. For her to continue to play with my emotions has only added insult to injury that was lasting and debilitating. As I told Cassidy, the only reason she wanted anything to do with me was because I had a child. Otherwise, her entire modus operandi was to use abusive tactics of guilt and shame to inflate her weak ego. My last trip to Spokane opened my eyes to the reality that this cannot, will not work. This has been a dead horse for years, and when Cassidy sent me that message of guilt and shame, and refused to read my reply, I knew it was the end. Add to that the fact that this has strongly impacted my sense of self-worth and livlihood in life. That is not to say that every event has been bad. I have enjoyed many aspects of visits and seeing you, but I have no desire to be a part of the family any longer.

I Am Not a Good Person (And That's Okay!)

The desire to be seen as a "good person" has always been huge in me. In the world of religion, I wanted so badly to believe that I was good. I wanted to believe that my background as a Christian missionary with no criminal record and a life of service would make me a good person. That started to erode when I realized that there were issues that I had trouble believing. I even began to question my own religion. While I have moved past the idea of beliefs and questioning, I feel that I can never return to the thought or fantasy of being "a good person."

What is a good person? Perhaps that is the question that I wrestle with. For years, I thought it was staying away from criminal activity, not taking advantage of people, being helpful, honest, and giving back. I have done all those things in life, but I don't think that makes me good. In fact, after my last trip to Spokane, I was troubled by thoughts I had. I had never imagined myself hurting someone before. Yet, there was a lingering moment when I wanted to so badly. I found myself consumed with hate like I’ve never felt before. When I read the book Confessions of a Sociopath, I found out that I was not alone in this, nor was I alone in the reason. She stated that when she was made to "feel guilt," she felt rage in her. This was the same rage that I felt in me.

I was always so turned off by how religion used guilt to control people. For a while, I saw churches as machines that used guilt to get money and service from those who were a part of it. While this is often partly true, I don't think it paints the whole picture. Some people enjoy giving those things. Some people find joy in giving back and being a part of something. In short, it is good for people to give, and in some ways, I was wrong.

Yet I came back to the whole good person thing. If I was good, why would my former job "ghost" me? Fellow employees said I did good. Elo, the manager who blocked me once said to me "you have a beautiful soul." Yet, such feelings do not last. They change like the tides at any given moment. I also am slow to believe compliments, knowing just how rapidly people can change.

What was it about me that turned people off? I could wrestle with that forever, but I am learning not to care what others think of me. If I cared, I would not make this blog nor would I share it with others. Yet, during my phase of wondering, I felt a similar rage that I felt with my family. I imagined, fantasized, over and over again, about a huge tsunami hitting and destroying the entire Washington coast. Killing thousands, destroying Queets, sinking and obliterating Kalaloch Lodge. I can't deny that fantasy felt good. In fact, it was incredibly therapeutic, and I often found myself returning to it over and over again when I felt anger about how it all ended.

While I would be sad to hear of an actual tsunami hitting the coast, I realize that it's no different than any disaster hitting anywhere else. The only difference is that it happens to hit those whom I felt anger and sadness over. In a sense, my mind may see it as a form of karma, almost deserved. That's why I can't imagine that I am a good person.

My Mother's Forced Abortion

Also, if I was good, my family would have been more accepting. Yet, that was not the case. I was "unlovable since birth." That's a shame. Now, here's the deal: My mother may have a reason for this line of thinking.

My mother was pregnant with another child before I was born. She was still a child, and her parents cared deeply about what the community thought of them. She was forced to undergo an abortion. She resented that her entire life. I think she still does. I think that still eats at her to this day.

My mother resented the fact that her parents, the same ones who doted on me, forced her to get rid of her first child. She probably imagined how wonderful life would be with that child, and they took that away from her. When I was born, the same parents who took that one thing she loved from her gave me their complete affection. For that reason, she could not attach to me. In fact, she was probably disgusted. And I was the object of that disgust. No wonder she said she’d "wait to have another child" to set the scales, so to speak. This would be a child on her terms. It all makes complete psychological sense.

In short, I was the follow-up to the child that my mother was forced to "murder." I never fully understood that when I was young. I had no clue. I just knew that my mother resented me. It got to a fever pitch when I was in high school and she was obsessing over abortion footage on the internet. She would spend hours looking at pictures of aborted babies and crying. It was during this period that our relationship hit its lowest point.

Giving People What They Want in Life

I have since left my family because of the flat fact that I am not wanted there. I won't pretend that it's the case. I saw that completely the last time I visited. It could not have been more clear. I promise that I will never again speak to the members of my family. They can pretend that I do not exist.

I used to believe that giving people what they wanted in life was the mark of a good person. Good people care about how others feel. It would be obvious for me to give people the one thing they want: me being gone. But human nature is not so cut and dry. Instead, humans don't always know what they want. While it’s obvious that my family wants me out of the picture, their egos tend to get hurt when the thought is "he chose to close the door on us." No, I did not choose to close the door on you. I gave you what you showed me you wanted year after year. I believe strongly that they now have it, and I hope that they can find it within to be grateful.

I was taught in church that "there is not one good person, not one." I now am inclined to think that. If I am not good, I should not cry or lament. No one is good. We are all wayward beings who go through life making mistakes and causing our own flavor of harm. And trying to be good, as I saw in others (especially in the world of religion and with some members of my/my wife's family), only leads to insecurity and a need to prove one's self at every turn. It's not healthy and it leads to all kinds of issues. Like my mother, the harm we cause isn't all our fault. It's a tapestry of choices brought on by many people throughout time. The worst actions often come when we are forced to be or act a certain way. When people are pushed into a corner, they lash out. Terrible things happen, as my sister could have found out. Luckily for her, she'll never have to deal with me again. That, to me, is a true mercy for all of us. 

Maybe there is an ounce of good in me after all.

From Swagger to Scandal: Dom’s Infamous Summer

He had a swagger. I've never seen a man walk like that. He walked around like he owned the place. Honestly, had I not known any better, I'd say this man was the manager of Delaware North or the deed holder to the property of Kalaloch Lodge. Those who worked with me last summer will know who I am talking about. He is a true legend in every sense of the word. His black beard was his calling card. The way he drove his porter cart made people wince. The way he interacted with the women was unlike anything that I had ever seen. Confidence, or a sense of not giving one damn about what others thought, permeated every fiber of this man's being.

At the bonfires, he stood proud. Rules were to be broken. The world (of Kalaloch Lodge) was his oyster. When Garth played Whalecock, he popped open a beer, grinning ear to ear. What a sight he was to behold. And although he fumbled with many of the women, there was no doubt in my overworking mind that they were drawn to him on some level. If he could have just cooled his jets, he would have perhaps been able to find one that he could have taken home at the end of the season.

Yet, that would not happen. And I think that many of us who stood around the fire on those nights knew. He asked me at the beginning of the season what my goals were. I said, "I am only here to make money." Perhaps time would tell that this was not fully true. I loved the social aspect of this place at first. For the first time, I felt that I was part of a little club—a family even (hence why this is on this blog)—where I belonged. As long-time readers know, the parental figures (managers) have the final say over who is a member of this family. During my time at the Lodge, I would see many of my friends get the axe. The world is a truly random place. You never really know when you will f*ck up.

Out in the world, though, people like Dom and I know one thing: You can say what you want, and managers have no power over you. Had Kalaloch Lodge been the only job in the world, then maybe they would have power over me. But now I can say and do what I want, and armed with knowledge of the law, especially tort law (which libel and slander are a part of), and since I was near the top of that class, I know exactly what line not to cross. In a sense, in the written world, I am unfuc*able with.

Yet, in 2024, I knew one thing that Dom didn't know. Keep your head down. Work hard. Be perfect. And out of momentary desperation, they will keep you around. In 2024, Kalaloch was at the height of desperation, and I truly think that's why Dom was not fired. Immediately after arriving, he ordered alcohol at the restaurant and refused to pay for it, claiming it was "wrong." Shortly after, he caused management to revise the rules on walkie-talkie etiquette. He left bonfires lit. He was banned from the kitchen for fighting with employees on multiple occasions. He stole premium "tap" root beer from the back after being told not to touch it. He drove recklessly with the carts. Yet, management seemed to give him more chances. In the end, more tales emerged. Women came forward with allegations of sexual harassment. Some of these I can confirm took place. It was also alleged that he was walking into guests' rooms in the hotel. At this point, management wanted to rid themselves of him and interviewed various people about their allegations.

Shower Fantasy Gone Wrong

Yet, the thing that was perhaps the most damning about this man was the fact that he walked in on a young woman who had just gotten out of the shower. The woman was one who worked as a hostess with me. After what appeared to be an ordinary day of work, I was told she had killed herself in her room. We were stunned. I don't know how she did it (it was one of the few things I didn't ask about). It was truly a shock and a horrific accident. I feel bad writing about it but feel that there is a place for her story to be told. I do not suggest this incident caused or led to her suicide, but the timing was truly bad.

While my roommate had a huge crush on him, the rest of the Lodge seemed to despise this man. I had added him to my Facebook account shortly after arriving at the Lodge. I thought he was strange and was warned by Elo (a manager) to "be careful" with him. I wrote about that in my journal. He seemed to like me a lot. He would follow me around at times, honk at me, and was overly friendly. I did not mind. I have always tried to be likable to a point. In the end, most people end up hating me. Perhaps that is my curse.

A Possible Sociopath? 

As I read the book Confessions of a Sociopath: A Life Spent Hiding in Plain Sight, I could not help but think that this man fit the definition of a sociopath. I can't say that I was immune from sociopath traits either. In the end, perhaps I can turn on and off my sociopath traits with ease. When burned (as I was at this place), I go full sociopath. This blog is a beautiful testament to that. It's my revenge blog in a sense, but so much more.

The Hare Psychopathy Checklist-Revised (PCL-R)

Developed by Dr. Robert Hare, the Hare Psychopathy Checklist-Revised (PCL-R) is a diagnostic tool used by psychologists, primarily in forensic settings, to assess psychopathy. It consists of 20 items, each scored on a scale of 0 to 2:

• 0 = Does not apply

• 1 = Applies somewhat

• 2 = Fully applies

A total score of 30 or above (out of 40) is typically considered indicative of psychopathy.

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Factor 1: Interpersonal and Affective Traits (Manipulative & Emotionally Detached)

• Glibness/Superficial Charm – Are they smooth, engaging, and persuasive?

• Grandiose Sense of Self-Worth – Do they have an inflated ego and a sense of superiority?

• Pathological Lying – Do they lie frequently, even without reason?

• Cunning/Manipulative – Do they use deception to exploit others?

• Lack of Remorse or Guilt – Do they feel no guilt for their harmful actions?

• Shallow Affect – Do they lack deep emotional responses?

• Callous/Lack of Empathy – Do they disregard the feelings and suffering of others?

• Failure to Accept Responsibility for Own Actions – Do they blame others or make excuses?

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Factor 2: Lifestyle and Antisocial Behavior (Impulsive & Irresponsible)

• Need for Stimulation/Proneness to Boredom – Do they seek constant excitement?

• Parasitic Lifestyle – Do they exploit others financially rather than work?

• Poor Behavioral Controls – Do they frequently lose their temper or act aggressively?

• Early Behavioral Problems – Did they have conduct issues as a child?

• Lack of Realistic, Long-Term Goals – Do they live impulsively without planning for the future?

• Impulsivity – Do they act without thinking?

• Irresponsibility – Do they fail to honor obligations (financial, work, family)?

• Juvenile Delinquency – Did they engage in criminal activity before age 18?

• Revocation of Conditional Release – Have they violated parole or probation?

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Independent Traits (Not Directly Linked to the Two Factors Above)

• Promiscuous Sexual Behavior – Do they have multiple casual or exploitative sexual relationships?

• Many Short-Term Marital Relationships – Have they had multiple failed marriages/relationships?

• Criminal Versatility – Have they committed a variety of crimes?

As someone who is highly interested in the lives of others (over half the books I read are memoirs), I did some digging on Dom. One of the things I found was his blog. He bragged about getting a DUI, was a person who lived "day by day," and traveled the world extensively. The truth is, we had a lot in common. I just happen to know how to integrate and blend in with society far better. Perhaps that was a result of my time spent in the religious and legal world. I also have never been convicted of a crime. That means no sex offender status or anything that Kalaloch can use against me. My record is pristine. This makes it all the more troubling to me that information regarding why I fell out of favor with management and was deemed unemployable remains unknown. But as I posted before: THOSE WHO CAN NOT ACCEPT THEMSELVES CAN'T ACCEPT OTHERS!!!!!!!!!!

Perhaps more striking was the reaction we both had when we were told we were not welcome back. Dom sent the General Manager many hateful emails and I created this blog. Let's just say that both of us don't react well to rejection. Of course, mine came from birth. I was rejected immediately in life by my mother who "could not love me" because of something that happened far before I was born and because of her own parents adoration of me. 

The Cataclysmic End

Dom was eventually fired and left the Lodge mostly quietly. I remember "hiding" from him, giving in to the rumors that he might be dangerous. The truth was, he wasn't. I ran into him shortly before he left, in our apartment of all places. He was friendly enough. The next day, he was pacing up and down the road and then went to live at a nearby campsite for a couple of days before heading back to his hometown.

Dom's blog and social media accounts outlined his desire to last a long time at Kalaloch and finally do something good. He had the desire, but his brain didn't allow it to happen. Research on impulsivity and self-sabotage suggests that individuals with poor impulse control often struggle to align their long-term goals with their immediate actions (Baumeister & Schmeichel, 2012). He was drawn to doing things as he wanted, without caring how others would view them. This aligns with studies on antisocial behavior, which indicate that individuals with high impulsivity and low conscientiousness often disregard social norms and consequences (Moffitt, 1993).

At times, it was as if he wanted to be fired, openly bragging about the places he had lost jobs at in the past. Self-destructive tendencies like these have been linked to a deep-seated fear of failure—or paradoxically, a fear of success (Burka & Yuen, 2008). A cruise ship captain he worked for told him to jump overboard—or so the story goes. Whether the story is exaggerated or not, it speaks to a pattern of interpersonal conflict often seen in individuals with difficulty regulating emotions and behavior (Linehan, 1993).

Either way, it is a sad thing to see someone ruin their chances in life. Maybe I say that because I've done that many times in my own life. I burn bridges too easily. A character defect, perhaps? Research on self-sabotage suggests that people who engage in this behavior often do so as a defense mechanism to avoid the pressure of success or to maintain a familiar state of struggle (Knapton, 2016). Maybe it's a fear of being too successful or getting too comfortable. Studies on impostor syndrome indicate that some individuals feel undeserving of stability and success, leading them to unconsciously undermine their own achievements (Clance & Imes, 1978).

In the end, the things we do, the things we are, how much we are liked, or how well we fit in matter not. We all pass away. Truly, all that matters are those around us today, those we love, and being decent people. If the worst thing I've ever done was telling my stories on a blog like this one, then that's better than many. But I know that deep down within us all is a monster clawing and raging...waiting to get out. In the end, those we look down upon are not so different than the things we fear that lurk inside of us. 

In short, you are no better than those you shun.