Promotatives

(Much harder given the climate, but I need to do this to help myself right now)

————–

Friendly

Outgoing

Ambitious

Humorous

Creative

Original

Insightful

Wise

Intelligent

Sincere

Logical

Attentive

Generous

Communicative

Sexual

Emotional

Courageous

Observant

Honest

Gentile

Affectionate

Dedicated

Loyal

Determined

Optimistic

Jubilant

Effusive

Kind

Moral

Sad Bed

Hours in isolation reveal a place of deep ache, encompassing a gorge of emptiness within. I feel the threads of connection, thin, decayed, neglected, forgotten, but still tugging from time to time.

I wish someone was here with me. I miss having her here to be affectionate with, gliding fingers and soft kisses. That word, someone, represents such a powerful longing that I often have to stuff it away. I can’t deal with the hurt in its completeness.

I’m hopeless. I just need to come out here and express my unrequited longing. I don’t think anyone will love me again. Too much baggage. Not worth the trouble. Unable to see who I am.

I have times like this where I feel sad about being alone; especially in instances when old love emotions are brought up and the memory/reality of how it is dead comes back. The pain returns. I forgive. I transition. I stand alone. My hand is cold.

Tonight I just wish someone was making sniffy noises next to me. I miss her. Goodnight.

Activation

Score: +3

Hello Blog.

Today I started to embrace my future as an activist for my community outreach program. I, as you know, have submitted a proposal to NAMI Sacramento called Stronger Communities through Awareness, Leadership and Education (SCALE). I am beginning to dip my toes into collecting data to bolster the facts to emphasize the need behind my proposal. This is forward progress.

I’m looking forward to getting into my own living arrangement. My roommates have no respect for me whatsoever, and ignore my preferences, requests and pleas. They don’t care how imposing and irritating it is to have your boundaries crossed. My identity has no room to grow here. I eagerly await the day where I can define my own personal space.

I am ceasing my concern with changing the culture, instead, I will protect myself and forward my goal of moving out. I am launched, and destined to have an impact somewhere. Time will reveal the focus of my energy, and advance a blossoming future.

These are statements. I express. I process. The words go here, and here they stay.

The Hunter-Seeker is still after me. It almost got me, but I have, this far, been able to escape death. Soon.

Emotional Prose

Then, inching towards a sullen state, a dark and vast abyss opens, consuming the road ahead, plunging all into an empty, fathomless chasm. Saddened yet aware, the scream of descent echoes off the distant walls, reminding. Into the frigid air of breathless dark, penetrating chill advances on once supple flesh. A twirling, tumbling decay like so many insects ensnared in webs to be feasted upon later, the tumult goes on. Unrecognized, unappreciated and inherently deluded, the spiral plummets to new, frigid depths of denial. With only the bottom of suffering to relate, the empty hiss disposes, loathes, resents only. A predator of wrongdoing in the deepest recesses of regret disembowels, eviscerates and consumes. Leaving only a smattering of resin, the digested supplicant is no more. Faded hopes nothing more than a bloody smear on the forgotten cave wall where no one can see.

Chuggy

Score: +2

Energy low right from the start, struggled to get up, but then got going later. I did my 10,000+ today though I am not feeling the enthusiasm. I know the Latuda was providing some lift despite being fucking toxic. I regret that in the current state of medical limbo I have no probability of getting with a psychiatrist and discussing my meds until I achieve gainful employ. The need to get a job, and field-oriented job, is vital. The more I stay here the more I realize how I need my own space to control. I can’t individuate in this environment, so I am considering it a launch pad to my future.

I’m plugging away, applying all day and just hoping for recognition. I will continue to push until some form of empowerment allows me to craft my own fortune. I will not be here for long. I will not call this environment home. This is a place I am living until I can move on to a better arrangement. This is not mine, it is theirs, and they remind me, every day, that I am no more than an unwanted pennant than a member of a communal living arrangement.

I’m a little frustrated now, but that will pass. I do feel like I need control over my own life, and having that taken away because of my illness. That fact causes me to push forward and forge that life for myself. I don’t like where I am, and I vow to improve, and make something for myself.

 

The real world is so depressing. Liars get more power and more support, truth tellers are shunned and cast to the fringes of recognition. This whole dynamic serves the corrupt, the unjust, the infidel of societal norms. Why can’t we all coexist? Why does every interaction have to be such a cut-throat war of who can fuck who the best up the ass with a hot iron poker? I contend that society is geared towards fucking some people and rewarding predators. It is fortunate, however,m that I am such a metaphorically disgusting, rotted and indigestible piece of flesh that no one fucks with me while I execute my meaningless agenda.

A Lone

Hi there. Positive day, lots of happy, but still sad right now. Inside, there is an ache for her. I mean the incorporeal, ideal “her” that isn’t and won’t be as well as those I have loved. My mindset of hope is actually a poison that sustains longing and causes a rot of desperation within. I have always been a lone man, different from his peers, relegated to the fringes of acceptance. I must embrace, and accept.

Solitude must somehow become a source of strength, and a determination that defines rather than diminishes. I don’t know what that transformation would be like it’s so theoretically inconceivable for me at this juncture. It’s frustrating, because it describes something I have been unable to do to this point. I can’t even make a new friend, let alone find adequate companionship.

The faltering struggle of inner-strength versus an unending, advancing tide seems inevitable. Whether drowned or washed away, the emptiness consumes all. Then it vacates, leaving a landscape stripped bare of its vitality and features in the soggy aftermath.

Behind this doubt, somewhere, is a beacon. Of late, though I know it stands like a bastion of my ongoing hope, it is obscured in a sickening miasma of discontent. There are more days surrendered to pain than ever before. More than 18 months of physical solitude seems to be a threshold that once passed, inflicts a sorrow I can’t escape.

The only remaining choice is to become it, and secure myself tightly to the boulder as it plummets to the deepest part of the ocean. Accept or perish. Perish or perish. Either way, I’m still alone.

Untethered

Severed mooring–

Cast free on a drift,

Slacked touch ache,

Fading warmth fingered,

Slip the dust of her.

Currents steal futures–

Plied courseless,

Echo’s reply mocking.

Consuming cold stones,

Sinking, crushing,

Yellow to night,

Black horizon,

Dissolving–

Ahead but still behind,

Water tips in–

Gushing,

Vanish beneath,

Gulped, unnoticed.

Up

Score: +3

Very good Monday for me in terms of forward progress. I did a full day’s worth of job searches, applications and resume work. On top of that, I was asked to be the NAMI Sacramento Program Coordinator for Peer to Peer Support Group Meetings here in town starting July 1st. This would be my first coordinator position, though still on volunteer status. Despite the lack of pay, this position is a HUGE resume line as well as the experience involved.

Big blessing of good news heaped on me today. Despite that, I am still feeling some sadness in my heart over loves lost. I really think I will never fully let go of them, despite how they hate me. All I have in my heart is care for others, there’s no room for anger. I do long to love, but I also realize I may never again.

Life took a promising step forward today. This encourages my future enthusiasm for future steps down the path of my destiny. Blog, you are seeing me grow, struggle and change into the man I want to be. I am becoming a me I will be proud of (more than I already am).

NEWS!

I just go asked to be the Peer Support Groups Program Coordinator for NAMI Sacramento, starting July 1st.

Yeah, that’s right, still volunteer, but the doorway is now WIDE open for advancement in the Mental Health field I have chosen as my career. I can still do this and work full time,, conceivably. Big injection of YES and HELL YEAH.

More job news to come, I’ll keep you posted.

Purposeful

Good morning. Today is a pretty relevant day. “Soldier” has got to be the most dangerous, archaic occupation on Earth, but without them, we would definitely not be here. Many millions of men and women died doing what they were ordered to do, and they held their ground despite knowing it would be the last thing they did. They never failed in serving whatever agenda they were required to. Whether the mission was moral or corrupt, they died doing what they were asked, and that is the truth of it. Whether you agree with war or not (I expect not), everyone can relate to soldiers. We are all just people, and soldiers deserve better than what they get. They give the most, and when they come home, they are treated like unwanted luggage. Recognize. Today is just one day, but do give a second to think about your reality being built on the decomposing corpses of millions of men and women you will never know.

I’m on the helpline today. I have also applied to be a counselor at a school in Roseville. As more jobs become available, I’ll be dropping my name in whatever hat I can. Maybe not the elephant shit scooper. Under qualified. Need a BA to even get in the cage.

I’m headed in a good direction right now. I’m going to go get my steps later, and continue this healthy activity program at full speed! Woo!

Really, I’m moderating. I’m just excited to be feeling good at the start of the week… a promising indicator, methinks.

Scccrrreeeeeee

-{===|]

NOOOOOOO!!!!!

QUIET!!! Thank you.

Hey there. I’m having an introspective evening listening to my head-council. My thoughts go between the feeling of loneliness and the solidarity of my forward resolve for my future. I can be of these two minds, while not being shredded in the process (barely). It is contentious: “wait, no THIS is what you need.” “What are you a fucking idiot? Clearly you need THIS not THAT.” Ugh. If you had to put up with this debate going on and on you’d write about it too.

I don’t even know why we’re having this argument on the chamber floor in the first place. The facts have proven out (especially of late), and one choice of path is fundamentally untenable. Just like the people associated with that choice. The whole thing is marked for collapse.

I’m scared of being alone. I don’t really like it as much as I like being loved and understood. Being embraced by a workplace is pretty key to my forward progress, but not as fulfilling. Something about love that makes it special is that it’s the key to several doors that would otherwise be closed.

Yet, with my baggage, the chance of finding a tolerant participant is very close to zero. There’s a large stack of shit to be fully repulsed by, often times too grotesque and fathomless to be overcome by other, positive attributes. The lot, in and of itself.

The dichotomy continues as no one up there has a fucking clue about the right path but they keep on yammering like they do. Maybe tomorrow they’ll be quiet. They need time to just yell, then maybe around 1-3 AM they’ll start formatting some legislation for the rest of the chamber to vote on. I await that result when I’m back in front of the council tomorrow. Goodnight Blog.

Things I Did

Score: +2.5

Great day of exercise today, as I was motivated to post a decent score during the weekend step challenge (that I started). Among the three walks/fishing trips I took today, this one was the big one:

Walks, especially maintained throughout the day, really do help keep up my vital energy and help me feel good. This is great looking at the map. I hammered that out in 43 minutes.

Along the way, Moo and I went fishing, and I saw some wildlife.

There is so much life here, crawling around and making life noises. Ducks, Herons, Squirrels and Turkeys. I am feeling at home here, and recognizing the rarity of the place I find myself. Many positive aspects despite the afore mentioned negatives.

This place has a nourishing quality to it, even if it is a locale where I feel hunted at times. Predators are here, but I am prepared. No one will defile this place while I have a chance to prevent it. I’ve never lived in a place like this, and I doubt I will again when I move out.

I’ve been ruminating on my feelings about my exes. Ultimately, I think I just need to stop with them altogether. None of them, to this point, have done anything with prolonged positivity or true benefit. It’s not mutual, it never has been, and I’m done. My energy will now go someplace where it will be reciprocated, and stored for a future individual worthy of investment.

Tonight I feel pretty solid despite so many unknowns still in play. Resolutions should not be final, but absorbed, and moved past towards the next resolvable goal.

Things in the mood and confidence department will continue to improve as time goes forward. DUCKIES!!!

Upperfied

Good morning Blog. I’m determined to be a good steward of my body and mind this weekend, and get back on a healthy track. With one foot in front of the other, progress is being made towards consistency. I always strive, knowing that there is no plateau of arrival, but a constantly vacillating slope of difficulties, calamities and triumphs. Thinking less of expectation allows for an adaptability to change, which is at the core of success for the mentally ill.

Affirmations and dedication are the remedy to my instability. Today I walk, and tomorrow too. As Captain Peter Quincy Taggert said so boldly “NEVER GIVE UP, NEVER SURRENDER!”

Drowned

Sparkling–

Just beyond fingers,

Reach,

Up to a sky gone down,

Wide-eyed with the impending–

Choking moments,

Being the hopeless last.

Suffering in gulping–

Swallowing breaths,

Engorged in death,

Drifting further–

Diminishing reaches,

Savior unknown.

Impacting rest,

Squeezed of chance–

Settle,

To be slowly devoured,

As nothing remains.

Kinda/Sorta

Score:+2

Meh, I did manage to climb out of the home and execute some productivity, but not all that much. I applied for jobs, did a little walking, and decided to just detach from sources of toxicity. I am taking my one-step-at-a-time approach to success very literally. Today I did take a step forward.

While the world sets itself on fire, I’m going to try to just hold course and do the best I can do to return to being productive and self-sufficient. Honestly, I don’t have much to say tonight. I’m trying to hold course, but it’s a challenge every step of the way. I need constant introspection, or escapism, depending on the time of day.

 

Sleep ‘n’ Bud

I woke up this morning acutely depressed, and spiraling in with a chaining frustration that was dragging me down before I even had a chance to get started. I made myself a cup of coffee and took a couple hits. This seemed to take the sharpness out of the sadness I was feeling almost immediately. Since then, I’ve afforded myself a few moments of introspection. I know now that I must start being more vigilant against my depression as I am relying simply on the Buproprion to keep me afloat in the happy juice department.

It is on me to regulate this, healthily. Allowing time to mourn rejection is expected, but sliding down the slope is not. I need to monitor and address as symptoms arise. I need to be careful not to over invest or expect the unreasonable. Shattered hopes can cause a decent farther into the pit than is logically necessary. There’s no ticking time bomb on my life, despite the desired alacrity. There is still plenty of opportunity to be had out there, especially with persistence.

I’m feeling alright now, and I’ve already started putting in some of the work applying for jobs this morning. Still chiseling away at my David, but far from complete. Zoom out that telephoto and just relax. Take positive steps forward, every day, and eventually, I’m going to get where I’m going. Patience is one of those lessons I still have to learn this go-round the consciousness stick. I’m not sure at all what I’m referring to there… It just kinda came out that way and I didn’t redact.

IMPLOSION IMMINENT

I’m withdrawing into a hole. My hopes are crushed flat like so many unwanted flapjacks in the IHOP dumpster of my life. I must be a real piece of flaming stink-shit if it is just so fucking easy to cast me aside. Lovers, friends, businesses, the list of agents of my ongoing despair gets longer as new and old parties alike find ways to disassociate from me.

Spiraling. I don’t want to feel like I did nothing, but the very little I did won’t solve a fucking thing. I wake up tomorrow the same pitiful man I have been, unskilled, undesirable and just adding more mass to the scrap heap of useless people.

I know, maybe if I disintegrate into a lowly degenerate and start suckling at the teat of society’s indigent services I’ll be finally heading in a more appropriate direction. People like me pretend to be great, but really we’re just trying to hide the obvious fact that were fucking stupid. Not just that, but also not something worth investing any energy in whatsoever. We are black holes of society, taking in matter and returning nothing of substance. Our only growth is an increasing need for more handouts, more pity, more pedantic preachers telling us “oh well here’s what you should be doing…”

How maddening this all is. If only the surplus population of those who hate me could see me struggling now. They’d point and say “haha I knew you were a fucking loser, that’s why I cut you loose. Hahaha look at you now. How pathetic. What a fucking worm you are.”

Goodnight. Hopefully tomorrow is better.

Disposable

Bummer day for the self-confidence department. Not to say that any of my internally directed praise was untrue, I just have yet to help anyone else realize as much.

But nevertheless I sit now in the same sort of paralysis of control that led me to seek change in the first place. Back in a state of not knowing and not being able to be fully independent. It hurts to be reset, and hopes of progress demolished.

At this time, I’m not feeling at all interested in charging at this issue, but instead, sulking over yet another rejection in my world. The messages on the outside have all been working to undermine my positive propaganda.

Tomorrow is a new day, with no end to my predicament in sight. I have time, but even that will run out eventually. The light is dimming, and I have no one to talk to or share my feelings with. No one is interested in me, and why would they be? What the fuck am I? Clearly not worth shit to anyone that matters.

Thoughts: leave me alone. You’ve tormented me enough for today. I’m down in the hole and I’ll see about coming out tomorrow.

Didn’t Get It

Score: -1

I didn’t get the job, despite my confidence. At the moment, I feel a bit shattered, but I know that will pass. I will start over again tomorrow with the full-speed job search. For now, I’m feeling a bit hurt from rejection, which will just take time to recover from. This is natural, until the time in which I can engage in my future. Persistence is key. That is all for now.

Full Reversal

This morning I was feeling pretty off center. After I wrote that post in the morning I sat here for a while thinking about my future, and what I wanted to do with myself. I needed a way to express my intentions, and aspirations for the time that I still have left. I resolved to channel that into something tangible, a project proposal I will shop around to the various nonprofits in town, starting with NAMI Sacramento. I spent an hour and a half pouring my intellect, talents and projected hopes into this, and brought a copy up to NAMI today. Both the lead project coordinator and executive director have it now. I honestly don’t know what will come of that, but it should be clear I am serious about grassroots activism and community awareness. My goal is to reduce taxpayer burden on public service and misuse of police resources handling issues that should be handled in the household, or surrounding community. We have to stop ignoring the issue of mental illness and start facing it down. Too many people are dying, lying homeless in the streets because we won’t look this issue straight in the eye. Now, in this time of ever increasing stakes, we need a voice of reason to help bring the focus back to where it belongs, on our home street. We either survive as a community, or we perish alone in our houses, isolated from each other with no one to save us.

I have included the full proposal I wrote below for your review. Just to provide you with some context, one of the larger challenges in this area has been activating minority communities in areas of need in terms of rendering mental illness services. Instead of burdening the system with providing care to indigent populations or others, emphasis should be returned to the individuals living in the community to be aware and mobilize to protect themselves and their environment. The motivation for this is common sense driven. The fact that we expect the police or county medical services to be the fail safe has resulted in many deaths, a huge swath of neglect, and a problem of deteriorating health and homeliness that is not improving but worsening. The status quo is failing, and now we need to really dig into why that is happening, and address a clear area of need. Bringing education to individuals will restore peace to households, change perspectives, eliminate stigma and reverse the trend of the mentally ill being scorned and relegated to the fringes of society. To restore peace to our streets, and safety in our homes, we must realize what we face, and learn about how we can better coexist with it. Opposition only leads to strife and death. The days of mental illness claiming the lives of those who have it are nearing an end, and my program aims to be the start of a new-wave of mental illness comprehension and treatment.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

PROPOSAL: NEW COMMUNITY-BASED OUTREACH/AWARENESS CAMPAIGN

PROJECT: Stronger Communities through Awareness, Leadership and Education (SCALE)

 

Westin Eric Bailey

Peer Support Specialist

May 2018

 

Synopsis: In light of the need for ongoing education and awareness of mental illness (and community impacts of) in many minority and disadvantaged communities, I propose to develop a program that will deliver a series of presentations designed to make common-sense arguments for improved mental health awareness at several (initially) communities of need in the Sacramento area. This process is divided into sections in order to properly create an effective outreach tool given the unique requirements of the various constituents of the areas in question. With my background in developing advanced educational materials and my vivacious, effusive and welcoming public speaking persona, I propose a fully-interactive experience that will help to make mental health awareness something a community can become proactive about. The objective would be to inspire individual communities to take charge of activism, assess need internally and begin to understand how the individuals in their community who suffer the symptoms of mental illness can achieve safety and stability through a new comprehension of the illness itself. The project, if implemented, will reduce the workload of police, county facilities and other government provided health care for the indigent.

 

Phase 1 – Assessment: The first stage of the project would be to gather information from new and existing minority community leaders by conducting detailed interviews and asking questions designed to assess the needs of a given local population. Once a sufficient amount of information is gathered, the project would then assess where the program would be most effective, likely given a limited number of opportunities for presentation. The program would then develop presentations designed for each audience in the selected communities across the area, so that each would be able to directly relate to the content being presented (drawing an emphasis to how close mental illness is within their own community, whether or not it is acknowledged openly).

 

Phase 2 – Trials: Program can be developed for 1 target community as a “first draft” implementation of the presentation to assess if the model functions as intended. If the focus of the program is successfully interpreted, information will be gathered from program participants to determine what areas need to be improved in the presentation in order for it to be more effective. Once this stage is completed, the objective would be to begin to promote, and go door-to-door providing information to communities in need. Additional implementations on a single-community basis may be needed to provide additional feedback. This stage must be collectively certified by the leadership in order to proceed with implementation.

 

Phase 3 – Outreach and Awareness: This stage would provide, in advance of scheduling presentations beyond the series of trials, a campaign on social media, TV, Radio and physically taking place in the communities where it is hoped a presentation would be held. The information provided to the populations across the city would specify that the objective is to provide real concrete resources for emergency situations, answer individual questions and provide a tailored product for their community and its unique needs. Outreach will proceed the opportunity to present, and should begin to alert the community well in advance to the presentation and associated resources that will be given out.

 

Phase 4 – Continuation: Program’s ongoing success will be dependent on constant adaptation, revision, and improvement through a long-term creative process over the period of time in which funding is available. A team of individuals can (permitting resources) eventually be developed to do the community assessments, interviews and design educational materials themselves, helping to spread the program farther out across the counties in the area, to any community in need. A leadership structure can then be developed to help maintain oversight and spread the effectiveness of the educational outreach to any community that requests it.

 

Conclusion: With a captivating personality and presentation style, I intend to forward my enthusiasm for mental health awareness and take a common sense approach to living beside people who are mentally ill, and how they all can thrive together. Making the poorest, most disadvantaged populations aware of this internal-crisis of neglect is essential. We intend to provide them with logical, easily comprehensible solutions and resources at all junctures, which will have a huge impact on all individuals in surrounding communities (if not by word-of-mouth but also by improved conditions). If communities can begin to take individual responsibility for their mentally ill, there will be fewer times a not properly trained police officer is called to deal with someone in a mental health crisis. There will be less need for people to be dependent on county resources if individuals are being assisted by their communities and families. The only thing this program can do, is help people understand what mental illness is, and how to handle it when it is a local  issue. We are going to take fear and stigma out of the myriad cultural misconceptions and reduce the issue of community mental illness down to the simple practicalities: Taking care of it themselves means fewer people will accidentally be hurt, die, or be forgotten; otherwise diminishing the integrity/perception of the surrounding community. I do believe that once the program is developed, the effects will be wide-reaching. This program, if funded, can save the city and surrounding county governments lost time and resources that will no longer need to be dedicated to addressing mentally ill individuals who have no place else to go.

 

Dubiety

I’m not feeling particularly stable this morning. My optimism and hope are temporarily obscured by an overwhelming doubt about my worth and future. As logically unfounded as such emotional insurrections can be, they still occupy the capital at this hour.

I am going back to NAMI today for some more work, and you’d think that would have me excited. Sadly, all I can think about is the cosmic limbo I am in wondering what is about to happen to me and my projected future. I’m not able to focus on anything, only peering fruitlessly into the miasma of possibilities and outcomes.

So, in response, I decided to come out here and think about all this for a bit. It is okay to feel down right now, because, that’s what I’m really feeling. Historically, rejection of emotions is a non-starter in coping with them. I’ve found that letting them “be” is best, because it’s certainly not going to be fatal to have a feeling, but it may be very uncomfortable. Like right now, for example. I’m here in this moment with a great burden of self-doubt on my back, and I intend to leave it there until it is ready to climb off. Which it will, in a little while.

Talking to my exes has clearly been a regret, as all sorts of things have come up along a still hopeless avenue of investment. I’m unlikely to Lazarus my way to something wonderful, so, I’m moving on. It is going to take time to re-establish my confidence after being treated like scooped diarrhea. I’m really far more relevant than either of those women will ever be able to realize, given their scope of understanding.

I have no intention of opening the relationship door again, but will not fully close it to chance. I’d be a fool to think I could just say something and have it last forever. We are insane if we believe we can even plan a few months ahead, let alone forever. With how this world changes, I don’t know how you can be bound to eternity unless you have your head soundly buried in the sand. I do not, and I’m tired of dealing with denialists and people who aren’t personally responsible. I’ve drawn a line in the past but I have not held to it. It’s easy to just say “no more,” but then when that ache comes, and her words seem so familiar… I, undoubtedly will struggle with that into the future, but less and less as more of my old relations are evicted from the circle.

Okay, rant over. I’m vowed to better protect myself and mind the ever-changing fortune of these new unfolding days. May you all be guided towards stability, as I seek to for myself. I know I will feel better soon, these things fade with time.

Details (Long Ass Post)

I felt a bit disjointed earlier when I posted my score. I also didn’t explain the downgrade was physical energy and not mental health. I wasn’t ready to be introspective. I was all beered up and unwinding from a long day of detail oriented work. So now I’m going to dive right in:

I really wish NAMI Sacramento would hire me. I thought if all this cool shit I could bring to the table. New programs, multicultural outreach (locally relevant), language and cultural education. I will have a chance to make a difference like that someday, I believe. I, despite my impatience, must learn to grow a reputation as a contributor first and present consistency to advance beyond. That has always been the way of trust, even as the chihuahua of my enthusiasm nips at the heels.

I’ve been foolish lately. ***** got a lot of past memories pheasants flushed out of the thicket for my consciousness to see. I was hurt by how I was disregarded, again, and that pushed me further into longing. Then I pestered Amanda and, unsurprisingly, found her empty of interest. Frustrating myself intentionally trying to cross bridges that were burned up long ago is not the best use of my time, I think. It tells me a lot about how deeply I love. Even though nothing remains, I still would run to love them again if they wanted me to. None of them do, however.

Inside me, there are these missing areas. Several of them. It’s a part of me that grew and became vibrant, thick, vital… like an organ designated to secreting love juice (um, ew?). Then, they died. I feel them now, dead inside me. Like a houseplant that no matter how you prune it creatively or sprinkle magic dust on it, the carcass of a once living thing is all that remains for all your guests to see. The hurt is constant, because energy still goes into it, but it never becomes any less dead. I wish so badly to bring it to life again by going back to the person who made it grow, but even then “where there is death, there will always be death.” -The Last Arcanan

I’ve held on for 15 years Blog. I’ve never forgotten, never given up hope that one of these empty places in me would come to life again. I can’t bear the shame of so much love lying in ruinous rot within me. Because of me. Because they stopped loving me. It is a pain I don’t think I will ever be free of, because I am responsible for putting it there.

My journey is a series of lessons. This loneliness is something I must understand and address. My future is far from decided, which opens the door to hope. I know my weaknesses, and I am not going to fall back to my past trying to find something of worth amidst the ashes. If there is ever going to be love in my life again, it will need to be brand new.

I definitely don’t deserve a fucking thing at this point, despite misfortune. Meaning can only be derived from worth of merit. The one who sees me now as the man I am… she will love me in a way that may last. A type of love based on an upward curiosity seems to be a variety of motivation that carries a potentially positive trajectory. Rather than lust, compromise, desperation or lies… interest has a deep well of questions that demand answers. Curiosity is an engine that drives understanding forward. Discovery is a spark that lights up an empty room with a moment of clarity, and yearns for more. These things are far from impossible, I have just never known anyone to have them for me. I, however, believe that when someone really sees who I am, this may yet happen.

As I go forward, I don’t intend anything other than to pursue my career and find meaning in helping others. I won’t close doors that might be closed anyway (Pessimistic Peter), and I will maintain a keen eye for possibility.

I do believe things are moving in the intended direction quite as planned. Since ** lit a fire under me, I’ve really taken charge of my independent future. Now, more than ever, I have the next several steps ahead planned out. I rarely look forward very far, but in this instance, I think having a bit of a glance in the intended direction is helpful in pacing my energy. I might still have a ways to wait before I can begin earning an income. Whatever obstacles there are, I am determined to overcome.

I have a few stories to tell tomorrow, some of which are fucking hilarious. This post has been going on for long enough. Tonight, I rest easy and peacefully. I know what I must do, and I go proudly off to do it.

My name is Westin Eric, and I’m a Peer Support Specialist. I’m an honest man who will dedicate himself to hearing you when you need to be heard. I will effusively demonstrate my vibrant emotions, boisterous dialogue, flamboyant facial expressions and demonstrative arm movements in all aspects of communication. Most importantly though, I will understand and help, not judge or advise, while we deal with the crisis at hand. I will help show how to take those first few steps forward and I will rally behind anyone who strives against mental illness, so that one day, they may know a full life.

Blah blah preachy preachy. This guy is fake news. He probably was the leader of the spy ring in my campaign! Curses!

Zzzzzzeeeeerrrrrrrrrr

Zzzt

-{===|]

Productivity Achieved?

Score: +2.5

Hi there Blog.

Today was a very busy day. I left a message thanking my interviewers, and worked nearly 6 hours at NAMI Sacramento doing data entry. I got a cup! FREE THING! well, not really free but you understand.

I’ve had my bouts with lonely boy. I pine for attention from people who have never given it in the first place. I expect the extraordinary, and am disappointed when the normal happens. This interpretive issue is basically on me to figure out. No blame going anywhere but on me.

I am desperately lonely after a good two years of having no one be interested in me. I’m also hopeful that a change in profession will unfurl a whole new brand of individual who has a tolerance for such an absurd person as I am, but even that is foggy at best.

I’ve been rejected enough by the woefully unworthy to keep taking gut shots over my desperation. I don’t know why I keep looking back, it is painfully hard to resist. Love was there once, but I’m learning how love can never be there again.

Tonight I relax and plan for more business tomorrow, and eventual acceptance into the workplace. in spite of my doubts and fears, I hold out hope that advancement is nearly upon me. I beg for a change in this dynamic, one that offers me meaning in the face of frustration. Maybe even an environment where I am nourished rather than squished.

I don’t know what to expect, but I keep pushing forward.

Coastafied

Score: +3

Today was a not very productive day that still felt pretty good. I did really walk a ton and kinda burned myself out. I’ve been listening to the news and boy is that frustrating. Some fucking crazy shit going on.

I think I speak for most people when I say: just let the fucking investigation play out and stop poking it! If you are innocent, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT? I mean, come on… this guy is not even close to off topic yet, not even in the same ballpark as Ken Starr.

What keeps me entertained is just the SHM value of it. Who do you guys think you’re going to fool with all this tomfoolery? Nunez… really? Come on man, the toadie is the first guy to eat shit when the boss is in trouble. He’s like the weird kid on the street who can be in the club, but only if he doesn’t come inside the treehouse and he can’t be a part of any of the meetings.

It just looks less and less like a good thing. I gave the guy a fresh slate after the election. “prove me wrong” I said. And then that didn’t take particularly long to happen, followed by a series of worsening calamities unfolding daily. Who are these voters who would still vote for this guy? Most successful President in american history? Largest inauguration crowd size ever? I’m so buff (flex) i pick up the whole White House with mah meaty arm, den I’M A BUILD THAT WALL! A wall? What, are the Mongols coming? Sigh. SHM. SEE, right there.

Please, can we have a normal government again? I don’t care who’s in charge, as long as we’re not fucking jumping through flaming hoops and shit or having the Executive as a reality TV show. It shouldn’t be entertaining, it should be doing something useful.

Anyway, things, otherwise, are great. I feel fine, alert, happy and ready for some more good news this week.

Bass Diary

Dear Diary,

I ate a worm that I found. It was food. Then I went in the reeds, but some one else was in there.

Birds kept coming over and looking in. I don’t like them. I try not to move until they leave. Nasty birds.

That man came again. This time he had a noisy thing that he kept throwing at us. Many said it was a fish, but I knew it was not. It was making sounds and several others did not like it. We knew it was not a food, and I kept telling them. This man is an idiot, ignore I’m and he will go away.

Later, I went in the reeds again and there was another worm and a mayfly on top. Now I’m full.

We all talked, and decided to splash water on the man next time he comes. He’s stupid. He will never catch us.

Tomorrow I think I’m going to eat some more, and laugh at me man when he comes in the morning. What stupid thing will he try next? Who cares, he’s dumb. Hahahahahaha!

-{===|]

Chabookafresh

I’m off to an above average start today, mainly because my pattern is starting to be re-established. I finally cured my sleep issues with a PROPER medical use of Cannabis as a sleep aid. It was either that, or go to CVS and buy a pill to make me pass out for longer than 3 hours. Those few days were miserable. Now, however, I woke up with OVER AN HOUR of deep sleep and holy fried monkey shit on a stick did that feel GREAT! Waking up after having that sort of night was a feeling I will truly remember… and also looking at my clock and being very excited about what time I saw.

I did a big walk today, like 3.5 miles, and I fucking CHUGGED the whole time, never lollygagging or loafing. I was sweating, breathing hard and zooming along to my heavy metal mix. I felt tired, a bit sore, but very strong. Feeling my lungs filling up with air, and my blood pumping was just the thing I needed to fill up the life battery.

I’m back to feeling like myself again. I thought, over the last week (and accompanying turbulence), that I have done a very good job being open about my processes and discussing my feelings out here. Transparency is so valuable, and I was a bit ruffled by how I was treated. I do believe there was a great deal of shit going on behind her curtains, but not my charge to uncover anymore. Missed out on riding the WEB train to Fuckyesville USA.

Some new thing will come along and light me up, as inevitably happens. Here’s hoping I hear back about the second interview today!

Next Phase

Score: +4

The interview was a smash hit, and I know definitively that I made a good impression (I asked). I’m seeing now that they are careful when hiring as the job deals with at-risk populations. They don’t want to rush it and have the wrong person in the position during a crisis, or, maybe this has been a problem before and they are avoiding a repeat.

The hiring manager said I interviewed very well, and that I should be hearing from them soon about a second in-person interview. I would expect to hear back by Thursday, and if not, I’ll follow up myself and bug the shit out of them until they yield.

I would have liked to offload the anxiety/excitement I’ve been carrying around that my current situation is generating, but alas, I trudge on. Not a big deal, as I gain newfound confidence with each successive interaction. See below.

I fucking ROCKED it today. Man did I feel proud walking out of the building. Just, beaming! I showed them something I’m sure they weren’t expecting, and something they won’t be able to easily forget. I do make an impression Blog.

Not that you would have a reason to know, but I have a fantastic voice (the one you would hear if I were standing next to you telling you to read my Blog). It’s very unique, and often described as a “radio” voice. I also have a standard volume that is permanently 4 notches higher than the rest of the world. That’s not to imply I yell, my voice resonates and projects, much like a stage performer, and naturally carries easily. I also have an expressive face, and my arms and hands often flail about madly as I speak (think Octopus, with rabies, on fire). Gestures are a big part of how I communicate. It’s a full-body activity.

So, the charisma was shining through today, and it felt wonderful. I got a compliment on the NAMI warmline too from a older man who was looking for peer group resources. He thanked me and told me I was doing a great job. The week before I guy wanted to send his brother to me for individual counseling, which I can’t do. I was flattered, however. Evidence! It’s not that I just want to do this work, it’s also that I’m fucking good at it.

Today was a pride bump day. Big time. I feel all puffed-up with confidence 100% ready to take on the next step in the process. Damn it feels fucking solid to be thriving! I’m getting after it!

Introspectively, my withdraw from Latuda is probably null since my body was rejecting it pretty severely well beforehand. I don’t feel particularly less stable, but circumstance is propping me up at the moment. I’m still monitoring the situation closely. Also, I have greatly improved stability now that outside perturbatory elements have been cut free as unwanted flotsam. Hahaha, great self-gratifying thought just happened: I was feeling down being so soundly rejected the other day by someone without any relevance, only to be validated shortly thereafter by a whole new group of people who are extraordinarily relevant. Take that depressed thinking! Fucking pow!

Have a great night Blog, and here’s hoping I get more than 3 hours of sleep tonight. Please?

It’s back!

-{===|}

Attitude Adjustment

Clearly I was not doing super awesome in the mood department last night. Sometimes that will happen. I go down a hole and stay there a little while, but eventually, I get tired of being down there since nothing good ever happens while in it. I am still having sleep issues, but frankly, I’m pretty excited about today, which has propelled me forward a bunch. The process of misery has, albeit temporarily, run its course. I am pleased to feel a distinct transition this morning, despite the absurd starting point of consciousness.

Either I am taking a very big step forward, or taking it at some point in the near future. It is inevitable that I will continue to strive for a life I can be proud of. This profession is rewarding in a way I could not have fully comprehended without needing someone’s help when I was a patient. I am glad I have my life, and I see now how fortunate I have been along my journey. Many people have helped me, and others have hurt me and been cut away. Survival is carrying only as much weight as you can while still going forward.

Today I’m truly going to be Neurochemically Challenged as I withdraw from the Latuda and still shake the tendrils of THC. Still, regardless, I’m going right into the belly of the beast. I will make a shattering impact and leave them wondering when I can start working. Get it. Got it. Good.

Beneath

Beneath the charred and crusted flakes of skin, a fetid consumption invades. Devouring vital, surging flesh, rendering choking bile and gushing pain, oozing from copious, savage tears. Scouring within boiled burning the frenzied fever rushes writhe in twitch and scream. Twisted in agonizing knots over pools of bloody ruin, spilling, splattering. Mired in the filth of excess, the stink clings and saturates. Hanging and beading like delicate droplets, the piss vile liquid smell of wasted life dwindles as the meat of essence is their feast. Disillusioned, shattered, mired, erased. The thick, gloppy resin of putrid decay sinks into every pore, closing out the light, stopping the clock forever. Gushing foul vomit and the effusive fluid of death, the punctured, eviscerated body is left for the maggots. The carrion of progress is chum for the feast of lies.

Crawling Forward

Score: +2

The score is down for physical reasons as sleep has been the big enemy of late. However, tomorrow is the much anticipated big interview day. This is the sort of situation I shine in. Give me a chance to impress, and I will.

It’s so easy to live in denial, until it’s not. What ends up happening is a boom. A lot like my parents not addressing the real issues in their lives. Dirt gets put over the hole and we move on. Trouble is, the hole is still there. Go ahead and step on it and see. I just marvel at people who don’t really live here in the real world and choose to entertain a delusion about the actual shape of the world. I see this as a symptom of fear, as I have know it personally. This was my main way of living, for a time. Until I tried to kill myself.

I’m off Latuda. Got some side effects going on, but better than what I was going through when I took it. Tonight I will try to again normalize my sleep, or at least push the wake up time later.

I’m trying to clear my head of anxiety and stress. This is, potentially, one of those relevant life moments that leads to fundamental change. Is this the next launching point? It certainly feels like it could be. I have a deep sympathy for people who can’t or won’t move themselves forward, because I have been there too. I, however, have no pity for people deluded into believing everything is fine while the mound under the rug continues to grow. Especially when the deception is just so obvious from the outside. There is a problem with confronting these people with the truth. It’s less like information and more like a bomb that explodes, causes immense irritation, then gets swept under the rug with the rest of life’s unwanted truths.

I’m ranting a bit I know. It hits home for me since I USED TO DO THAT VERY THING. Yeah, I can talk because I was just as guilty, but I move on from that. I saw my life go down the shit shaft and I knew I wouldn’t do that again. Seeing it in others who refuse to see it in themselves only reminds me of a past I want no part of.

Fuck. Blog, tonight better be a good night. I’m all used up from indirectly chastising people I’m frustrated with (but also never want to talk to again anyway). My parents are at least trying to step forward, so, I’m not down on them with the whole slop bucket. I admire that they don’t like the way things are. That’s more than I can say for the rest of you over there in Delusionville.

This is me feeling grumpy, side-effected and all fucked up from bad sleep. I’m taking out my negativity on you Blog. Then again, this is not the first, or the last time that will happen. This place is my bed pan. If you honestly expect decent writing here, ha, try an actual professional writer in your WordPress reader. I see these inspirational MH blogs and I really don’t give a frosty fuck. I’m not here to entertain you or be entertained by you, as evidenced by my unpopularity. I am here to treat my symptoms and deal with my reality. YOU come here to find out what a fucking psycho I am and every 3 months, leave an innocuous comment. Meanwhile, the vomit stream continues.

Go to bed. Deep sleep. Wake up. Change world. Repeat.

Patterns

I’m nudging my sleep schedule in the right direction, but it is clearly going to take time and persistence. Not feeling super great today… obviously being awake ridiculously early didn’t help. I am feeling a little bounce back loneliness since I made my decision on ***. The bloom of potential trampled by another pattern that didn’t evolve with the times. It’s a shame, but frankly, better to suffer now then significantly more at some point later on down the road then the forest has thickened.

Listening to singy singy music is a lot of fun. I have that “I wish blah blah blah was here or whatever, then we could be having fun.” I’m not sure what the objective of this line of thinking is, but I don’t think “objective” matters as much as causing an ache. Thoughts like that are little weapons. If you just glance at them, they hurt, but if you study them with any scrutiny, they become impossibly illogical. Trouble is, when the feels are already all up in the zone, it gets hard to slow things down and analyze. This is the real principle of Mindful thinking, and it is a pain in the ass for all time.

However, despite the difficulty of the technique, it works. I have avoided some mistakes by putting the brakes on the first evil thing that popped into my head. I still fuck this up, and get elevated. It’s hard, like I was saying. No one but robots get it right every time.

I feel the need to draw this line

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There we go.

Now, over on this side of the line is the new discipline zone. I need to regain control of my physical self and stop unintended hygiene related self-harm. My body is already abused, scarred and disproportionately goobed-out, but still my sad little temple and worth protecting. I need to re-establish an inner confidence despite the obvious optical obstacles.

A confidence that truly appreciates the worth of the whole bundle is what I’m looking to embrace. I have the strength of personality and charisma, but I need to feel proud in my skin, unafraid. I’m not there yet, and I must find a way to do it without the well of outside adoration to bolster me further. It must come entirely from within, and be just as vibrant as someone who is loved. Damn, that’s also going to be fucking hard.

Lots of things to continue working on, and hopefully, that will come easier as I work in a place where I will be practicing my good communication skills everyday. I don’t get much practice at home these days. I truly believe that the new environment I am entering into will promote a new and reaffirmed sense of self that I have been lacking. I need a good pattern to establish my routine, and a healthy job like this one is just the sort of thing I’m thinking will be right for me. At least, I have A great deal of hope that it will.

Taking negatives and flipping them over, and re framing the future so that the light of hope shines brightly on the path ahead.

There/Here

Paths for fingers,

Delicate raindrops,

Sparking light–

Electric warmly,

Whispered, present.

~~

Branched to new leaves,

Fissure-divided,

Bridgeless gap–

Words windedly gone,

Rattling down dark.

~~

Silhouette–

Purposeful void,

Rowed cages,

Ensnared–

Enveloped.

~~

Bell of dawn,

A soulless east,

Roil the dust,

Ashed facelessly–

Empty,

For parched lips.

Splat!

It’s not even 5 and I can’t keep my eyes open. I’m writing now to help give my brain something to do so that it isn’t incessantly demanding sleep. This Blog has always been a coping tool, so then, here we go.

I’m suspending the Latuda. My body is rejecting it and I throw up almost every time I take it. No more. The other meds will be fine until I can get on private healthcare and go see a doctor. Meds that are being rejected this way aren’t working anyway. They are expunged as toxic as quickly as possible.

Overall, I feel okay. I am anticipatory of Monday’s excitement, and where that road goes. I feel highly confident that I am going on the most expansive and involved journey of my life thus far, and I’m encouraged by my ongoing healthy choices in my life. Both social and physical.

Just after I started this blog back up again, in 2012, I was going through a terrible transition. The month after I re-opened for business I had 111 posts in November. That was back when my processes were nonexistent and I had almost no way of truly comprehending my lot, which amounted to dozens of insane rants and angry posts to exes. Now, this highly eventful month, I am already closing in on 90, just past the half way point. Clearly I’ve been thinking some thoughts, however, very few of them have been explicitly destructive. I’d say an overwhelming sum have been pushing me in the exact opposite direction.

In all my experiences, good or bad (mostly bad), I’ve tried to glean a lesson from whatever scenario has presented itself to me. The situation back in San Diego when Kendra gave me HSV2, I was actually inspired right down to my core to adopt a healthy lifestyle and embrace being a solo project for the rest of my life. She was really physically active, so I got a FitBit and proceeded to greatly improve my physical health. I lost 30 lbs and had a sense of total inner pride which lasted most of the year. Albeit, I had Herpes, and will for the rest of my life, but SO MUCH good came of that calamity that in my mind, it was hardly a disaster at all. Without it, I don’t think I would be the man I am now.

I’m feeling a very similar vibe today after my decision to stop talking to *********. She has lit a fire under me, and with the beautiful physical transformation she underwent, I got even more excited about getting healthy myself. She resolved to take on an immense burden in the name of love also made me think about my own life. She wanted something, so she went out and got it. I can do the same in my own relevant context. I motivated, launched myself into the job market, and it only took 26 hours for someone to sink the meat-hooks into me and drag me over for processing (hmm, this metaphorical reference is kinda gross, sorry. This is real honesty though. I could have changed it or redacted. I didn’t because I don’t misconstrue to save face… I have no more face left to save).

Even in separation, there can be reflection and action. I didn’t let ****’s negativity in, and took her positive contributions to my story forward. I will always have a place in my heart for her, even if I never see her again. She nudged me in a better direction than I was going, and I can honestly thank her for that, even if it was not intended. That’s the beauty about my reality: I get to affect certain aspects of it, and do, to promote better mental health.

Hope you all have a good night.

Off

Score +1.5

I had 3 hours of sleep, and my day started at 11:30 last night. Not the greatest, needless to say. I did, however, make something productive of my day despite this crap in the beginning. I also decided I am not going to talk to *** anymore. I need good role models in my life so that I can bounce my good communication skills off able and willing participants. My philosophy has been about enrichment, and ***** wasn’t enriching anything. I made the choice to cut her out after being ignored again for a day. Moving forward.

I had a good chat with Will about all this and we pretty much have the same understanding of things. However, Will can be known to subject himself to crap for closeness, which was, for a long time, my trap too. It helped greatly when I decided to be fully, unconditionally independent and not pursue a relationship with a woman. My terms for for friendship also became pretty serious, and my evaluative concepts were realistically solidified. In light of those exacting standards, I make decisions for the consistency and stability of my environment and perturbations that can be avoided, should be.

I don’t feel great in my body, it aches and I’m insanely tired. I can’t go to sleep for at least 3 more hours, and I really need to not drink anything at all before or during sleep. As soon as I have to go pee, the awake brain happens and I’m fucked. I was so fucking mad last night I couldn’t believe what was going down in my head. Completely fucking insufferable rolling around not sleeping for 4 hours. Jesus fuck titty, can I please have a decent night’s sleep tonight?

Green

Naturally I expected there would be some differences between Northern and Southern California climates, but I truly did not appreciate how vastly different it really was:

In San Diego, the main issues were humidity, and lack of seasons. San Diego has 2 seasons, Warm Summer and Kinda Cloudy Summer. Sometimes it rains, but usually under 10 inches on the year. The landscape was vastly different as well, because within 100 miles of the coast of the Pacific Ocean one could go from city, to foothills, to mountains, to desert all in one long drive east.

San Diego is consistent, I’ll give it that. But down there, water is a precious commodity. There are limitations on use, and extra cost since it is not as easy to come by as it is in other places. That’s one of the major changes for me, the landscape of Northern California, currently, is saturated. The ground is wet, and there is an abundance of green everywhere. It is an enchanting thing to be around. Green has some sort of radiance that inspires life, vitality and optimism. Growing things are persevering, and making the most of what they have available. Give a plant water, and it will capitalize by strengthening itself. This, in a way, is the inspiration for the mood instilled by my climate and growth is the engine that drives change.

The contrast is quite stark in my selective images, but it proves the point I am trying to make. This land I am in now, is much more in harmony than the one I was in before. In the South, the aquifers are drying up and the land is parched for moisture it will not receive. Up here, the dirt is alive. There is water everywhere, in the fields, through the city, and the two rivers come together downtown and flow out to sea. The massive Sierra Nevadas in the background, the primary contributor to the flowing water across the valley below.

Though the trip from coast to desert is substantially farther than it would have been in San Diego, I’m willing to trade that convenience for the chance to live in a place where the heartbeat of life can be felt. This place has enchanted me all over again with all its luscious trees, gorgeous vistas and changing climate.

I have a new place to call home, and at this time in my life where upward expansion is the norm, the analogy of growing plants feasting on the abundant resources of a nourished land seems quite appropriate.

Yes

Score: +4

A day best understated as eventful. I got my in-person interview locked for Monday and I know I’m going to demolish that shit. I also think the settlement paperwork will be ready soon for me to sign and that is also a beneficial thing. I got my steps in and my heart rate up. All told, I moved things forward in all aspects of life. Mental, financial, physical.

Never has it been more clear to me what I need to do in order to achieve a life I can be happy with. Especially in light of recent turmoil, I feel even more motivated to push on. I was doing great before, doing even better after. Sorry to have, in all likelihood, lost a chance at a friend in ***. However, there will be others.

My profession will open doors to success in new areas of my life, possibly even finding a friend I can really talk to and trust. Someone with good skills from having worked with people all day every day under difficult circumstances. I though I saw it earlier, but I was wrong. I might be wrong again in the future, but that is life, no?

Try, fail, try again. Try, succeed, try some more. Never ever give up, just ask for help. That’s what I want to be, the guy reaching his hand out to help you get up off the ground.

Drop It Like It’s HOT!

Score: +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That’s not the real score, fear not.

Appropriately however, I’m excited as my interview was confirmed for Monday! That was the final piece of the equation, because I have no doubt whatsoever that I’m in after that. As soon as they see my show, they’re going to be sold at 13.23 an hour. All I need do now is not be a complete idiot at the interview, which seems highly unlikely. Got to remember to bring my head with me though. Last interview, I left it on the entry table by the door and drove half way there until I realized I’d forgotten it.

This job pays above what PSS make entry level, and they have been enthusiastic about recruiting my services thus far. It feels good to be recognized and valued in this way. All that training, all the work I put in to advancing myself down this career path has finally come to fruition in the crest of realization. Blog, I am so grateful that this is happening. Remember how jazzed I was all last weekend about this prospect? It’s here, it’s happening, and soon, a lot of what I want out of life will be in my domain. Independence, prosperity, security and consistency. Now comes the days of the Peer Counselor. Long may he reign! Even from great calamity, there can be success.

Just 7 months ago, a had a psychotic episode and was not able to go back to work. I drew a new path for my life and started down the road. I filed suit for discrimination, and pursued a career path with meaning and purpose. I worked my ass off, called, wrote, insisted, begged my way to each and every opportunity I was presented and none of them were squandered. I’ve matured from disaster, and embraced a significantly more functional way of living. Soon, Blog, I will find a kind of happiness that works for me.

I will post a real score later in the day. Scores are cumulative, so morning makes no sense unless I was going to be in some form of prolonged torpor until tomorrow evening.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I feel genuinely glowing, just radiating my confidence and energy. I am so grateful for all the help I have been given to be allowed to get to this point. Now, it is time to give back to others who are looking to rise up out of sadness and embrace the completeness of freedom. That’s really what it is right there. Mental Illness confines, ensnares, constricts. I want to go forward in this world setting those prisoners free and help them realize fulfillment in a relevant context. Come see me, and let’s talk, I might be able to help you.

Unrevealed

Stokes the mystery,

Swallowed up in concealment,

Draped, flung and covered–

The faceless tower rises.

Acts of eyes–

Who’s curious tingle–

Renders fact from rumor,

Knowing, filling,

Behind, securely–

Unseen, yet, present.

Silhouette through sunlight,

A piece revealed,

The gate ajar–

A yearning,

The thirst calls.

 

Toxicity Radar

Now that I have been awake for a bit, and readied myself for my day, I am feeling quite positive. I’m all spiffed up in mah fancy clothes, I smell not terrible, and I do present as someone who aught be taken seriously. I am very confident in my prospects going forward, and even if for some fucking insane reason this Peer Counselor job never materializes, there are new jobs in Peer Support posted every day. It is a field in which there is vastly more demand than supply, so truly, someone of my distinguished, apparent skill set is a valuable commodity even looking at the outside of the onion. The rest of it is pretty fucking awesome too, but as long as the exterior Westin gets a bite, the rest is clinched.

In light of recent communication meltdowns going on around me, I have taken the opportunity to get introspective about my own method of communication and the skills involved. I thought about how I might have responded differently to this or that scenario over the last few days, still finding that even with some regret, the path I chose was a good one. Any conversation that turns to deriding through comparison should be backed away from slowly. With *** I really thought she had grown as a communicator, which he has, but not enough. I feel that she may have had some practice over the years, but probably never any training or classes on it like I have. You’d think a resource such as myself would be more easy to recognize, but I guess in this case I was wrong. It’s unfortunate, but I do feel a great sense of pride for myself, so being not appreciated or treated respectfully has a quickly souring effect on “equal” communications.

The same can be said of my parents, who still languish in their inability to talk, and poison each other with resentment and anger when they don’t know where to go in the argument. It’s plain enough to see from the outside, which helped me recognize the toxic discourse in my own domain. I have made the choice to suspend further contact with **** until some time has passed, and even then, it is doubtful there will be reconciliation. I don’t linger where I’m not appreciated, and I definitely do not feel that from her.

Time in this life is too short to spend it with people you can’t really talk to. Good thing I have you Blog! You never object, even when I’m going out of my mind and ranting pages of nonsensical bullshit. You have no choice really, since I own you. I’m framing this in a different way so you don’t have to think of yourself as property Blog, just as a constantly empty receptacle that I deposit all of my thought vomit into. Oh yeah, got the metaphors working today!

Narg

It’s too fucking early. I need sleep patterns like the rest of the world now thanks. Pee boner a 2 should not be the start of the day.

Nevertheless, I have been promised a job interview at some point this Friday and I look forward with anticipation.

The floors are swept, surfaces dusted, and the place is looking polished and sharp.

Catapulting skyward.

The next few hours will decide my near future. I feel nervous, but also very confident about getting in front of people. That’s where I really shine. I’ve done it countless times before.

Here we go on a new adventure!

Basics

I’ve been nattering on about the benefits of healthy communication for a while now, but in light of today’s verbal SNAFU, I feel it necessary to reiterate the fundamentals as I know them.

There are a few key components to good communication.

1. Effective Verbalization: this implies the ability to articulate advanced emotions, states or trauma with a variety of descriptions. Competence in this area means needs and expressions are heard and processed appropriately. Inability to communicate this way can lead to misinterpretations or feeling ignored.

2. Abstention Of Subjectivity: communication is most cohesive when the field is level, and bias, prejudice, stigma and judgement are absent. Opinions being relevant, taking that a step further to recommendation or advice when unprompted is where it becomes subjective. Conversations between peers function best when parties are respected equals in a balanced exchange. No one has high ground over the other, as fairness pervades.

3. Genuine Concern: listening attentively is part of this, but also, a premise for positive, acknowledging feedback. Concern allows thoughtful, loving reflection and a deep sympathy that harmonizes in those it resides. Listening, showing eagerness to know, asking questions and expressing fascination all help the person talking feel cared for and respected in the conversation.

4. Consistency and Trust: one thing a communicator and listener must be is consistent. Always go to the communication card in a disconnect. You will fuck up and say the wrong thing sometimes. It’s totally okay, as long as you explain, listen and discuss. Expressing feelings to an attentive partner is a great way to be heard and for the stated emotion to be embraced. It takes strength to stand and hear someone say you have hurt them, but as long as one returns to communication to explain circumstance, absorb, and listen, the door to reconnection is still open.

My intention here is to be abundantly clear about what it takes to have a healthy friendship and an ongoing dialogue between two mature adults. This is also fundamental for partners, so that the couple’s bond stays healthy and does not stagnate. I have seen what bad communication does to relationships. It guts them slowly and they die in agony.

Today I really had a wakeup call. *** still has an opportunity to address the feelings I am having in response to her judgement. I need her to recognize that today’s exchange was unhealthy, and hurt me. ******** and I should easily be able to talk about this and understand, that is, if she responds to me. Nothing like being insulted and ignored for saying it was painful to hear. Sounds like the beginning of the end, if true.

Though, there is still hope of reconciliation. I always side with hope. I like her like my long lost soul sister, and I wish we could talk together. A boy can dream.

Be an effective team you partners. Love should not be covered in dust because it’s not tended to by actively Swiffering it and talking about how to care for it. Don’t make the same mistakes I’ve made in my past. Please. I wouldn’t wish that pain on an enemy.

Goodnight blog.

Victor, Victorious

Score: +3

Hi there blog. It has not been long since I last checked in. As I was out walking around in the warm sunlight, I had a chance to reflect on some things that happened this afternoon.

I’m feeling judged by ***, in respect to my inner strength, vibrancy and determination. If you look back over the 6 years I’ve had this blog, you will see failure, disaster, suicide, absolution and eventually, recovery. Struggling is one thing. To face a challenge, grapple with it and overcome it defines the journey I have been on in the last half decade of my life.

I have triumphed over self inflicted, attempted death, twice. That takes strength blog. I have suffered the deepest prolonged heartache I have ever known, and came out the other side even more proud of who I am. Judge me if you want, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t have the education to presume.

**** went into unwanted judgement town earlier today, and it got me thinking. The measure of strength is in the ability to overcome a challenge, and advance beyond it. If one does not advance, the challenge remains. Victories over calamity are the building blocks of strength, and I have survived dozens of disasters and am stronger for it.

Sorry if I’m ranting, but no one puts me in a box and tells me I couldn’t get out of it ever even if I tried. I don’t care who you are, if you knew me, you’d never say such a thing. It’s very disrespectful of my life and death struggle and the constant stigma a bear. I can’t have sex with a woman again without infecting her with a lifelong disease. Do you think that burden weighs on me? Do you believe it takes strength to still be proud and alive despite that?

I have earned my place in this world and I have wasted no time comparing myself uselessly to others. My life has meaning for me, and that’s all that matters. People in my orbit now appreciate me for my strength and stability, and know what I am capable of doing and have done.

I never pass uneducated judgement on anyone anymore. Period. Judgement or comparison serve no purpose in advancing a complex discourse. I intend on having my conversations on a level more apt to someone of advanced education, incredible wit and astounding emotional sensitivity. All told, I’m a fantastic man capable of forging whatever life I want. At any time. This is the life I lead, and I will never be compared it belittled by anyone on the outside.

Improved

I think the withdrawal symptoms are finally passed. I feel much improved over the last few hours. Lots of warm water helped tremendously.

So yay.

Today and tomorrow are important for my future. If I get the job, I’m off and running. I await the confirmation of an interview to put a timeframe on all this. Tomorrow is going to be the launch point for a bright future.

I back up above 15,000 steps today and that feels good. I had plenty of time in the sun and I feel satisfactorily crispy. In a good way not in a crunchy way.

I’m looking forward to another day of minor victories and physical exertion tomorrow. There is still a long way to go before I am at a life place I can be happy with, but arrival is inevitable. I have overcome massive challenges to be where I am, and I am defined by strength, perseverance and the will to push my life forward in a positive direction. I have no doubts about who I am, and the incredible things I am capable of.

Miserable

Last night was, on paper, a good night’s rest. In reality, though, it was horrid. I was in near constant physical discomfort and dealing with violent core temperature changes. First sweating buckets, then shivering wildly. My muscles are tight and crampy. Overall, not a good feeling to wake up with. I feel zero percent rested.

I did still go fishing though. I got my heart rate up and sweated a ton. My nausea has kept me from eating much food so my energy tank is on fumes. I’m going to be improving my diet a little now, but fully once I move out. My mom has no interest in eating or being healthy and while she is making the food decisions, I’m largely reducing portions or abstaining altogether. As per our recent history, they are less and less concerned with me, my desires, thoughts, feelings, preferences, etc. I just need to get out of here soon. This dynamic does not promote good mental health. I need a space where I feel safe and in control. Living with them will never allow that to be possible.

I’m expecting an invitation to an in-person interview for either today or tomorrow. This will be a fucking slam dunk once they see and hear me. It’s all about the charisma, and charming/impressing are things I do well.

All this change is for a valid reason. I want a future, in my mind I see it, all the elements of it. I want to take that from dream to reality, and my progress so far has been with the intention of doing just that. I see happiness for me there. Confidence. Pride. Also, the stable point by which my doors might possibly again be open to partnership.

I’m on symptom management today, and I’ll let you know when I get the appointment news.

Memorization/Recitation

The following texts were typed from memory going back almost 20 years. name them both and you are awesome.

 

~~

In the year 10,191, the known universe is ruled by Emperor Shaddam IV, my father
In this time, the most precious substance in the universe is the Spice, Melange
The Spice extends live, the Spice expands consciousness, the Spice is vital to space travel
_________ who the spice has mutated over 4,000 years, use the orange spice gas, which gives them the ability to fold space
That is, travel to any part of the universe, without moving
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you
The spice exists on only 1 planet in the entire universe
A desolate, dry planet with vast deserts
Hidden away within the rocks of these deserts are a people known as the Fremen
And they have a saying,
That one day a man would come, a messiah, who would lead them to true freedom
The planet is Arrakkis… also known as, Dune.

~~~

The minstrel in the gallery

Looked down on all the smiling faces

He met the gazes, observed the spaces

Between the old man’s cackle

He brewed a song of love and hatred

Oblique suggestions, and he waited

He polarized the pumpkin-eaters

Static-humming panel-beaters

Freshly day-glowed factory cheaters

Salaried, and collar scrubbing

He titillated men of action

Belly warming, hands still rubbing

On the parts they never mention

He pacified the nappy suffering

Infant-bleating one line jokers

TV documentary makers

Overfed and undertakers

Sunday paper backgammon players

Family-scarred and women haters

And he called the band down to the stage

And he looked, at all the friends, he’d made

 

1. Spoken by Princess Irrulan before the beginning of the movie Dune
2. Minstrel In the Gallery – Written by Ian Anderson, performed by Jethro Tull

Tipped

Tiny grains,

Falling from edges,

Hard, not flat,

Piling–

A groan of measure,

Precarious angle,

Tilted past salvation.

A dream–

Like sand in the wind,

Touching, scattering–

In the crucible of time.

Shores bare,

Receding,

Until nothing remains.

Defending Arrakeen

As you are no doubt aware, I have been contending with a persistent yet elusive enemy. Somewhere within the palace, he was waiting for the opportunity to present itself. Now that some form of protection has been established (blankets), the only thing to do was find the pilot and kill him before he could complete his mission. I am pleased to report at this noble hour that the Atraides forces have located the pilot and have disabled his Hunter-Seeker. The pilot was taken to the deep desert and dropped there with a thumper stuck to himself. Good luck pal.

Intelligence suggested we might throw off the Hunter-Seeker with a post that claimed I was dead. This deception has proved successful, and as of that post, the Hunter-Seeker is gone, clearly fooled into thinking I was already taken care of. This lapse allowed the pilot to be found and a new, less likely to survive circumstance become his primary concern.

A proud day for prosperity on Arrakis that’s for sure. No filthy Harkonnen traitor is going to kill me from behind a wall. You little fucks are tricky, but not as tricky as I am. The spice must flow.

So, the suspense of the last few days where I have felt the presence of an active hunter is finally over. I am free to come and go from the palace as I see fit. The stress that has been lifted from my shoulders is quite a relief. Nothing like knowing a nearly unstoppable enemy is closing in on you to create a little anxiety.

I will stay in the sanctuary of softness until the new day is here to greet me. Then, I will rise and see what challenges await me. Hopefully not assassination.

Long live House Atraides!

BLARGH, AAAKK, I’m Ded!

Score: -2

Well, it got me. I am poisoned with toxic chemicals and suffering madly. The Hunter-Seeker, however, is still out there. Lady Acute Withdrawal on the other hand, has her fingers around my throat.

Physical suffering of a new and unfashioned depths has taken residence in all corners and crevices. My inner temperature is gone, as though exposed to the vacuum of space and sucks out into the darkness. I shiver, twitch and fidget uncontrollably trying to stay warm. My stomach has fully eaten itself and there is nothing more than a long, uninterrupted PVC pipe going from my gaping pie hole to my utterly disgusting anus.

My mind is filled with unhappiness, malice, cruelty. There is a bonfire blazing in there with little angry demons dancing around it singing a merry song of death.

My only salvation during this most acute period is ****. She has stayed with me as I write in agony, and worked hard to keep me distracted and laughing. That is a friend right there. I’m over here about to fucking flay myself alive with anxiety, but she kept me grounded and thinking about something other than my state.

Thank you.

Tonight there is only misery. I hope to fall asleep and wake up with a new bucket of energy to mess around with. I was feeling so pent up I actually jogged today, albeit a very short distance. Someday.

Goodnight.

P.S.

Hunter-Seeker: I know you are still out there. Now would be a great time to float on in and fuck my shit up. Just saying. Tomorrow though, you better watch the fuck out. I’ll be fresh, and if you zoom at me, I’m going to thrash you then find the damn pilot and kick the ever living shit out of him too.

The Hunter-Seeker

Those of you familiar with Frank Herbert’s Dune know this little contraption is usually death to the one it is trained on. I have come to this determination through a several-days long evidence collection effort. I know now that one of YOU out there have trained this thing on me. I am still looking for the pilot, but to no avail.

The Hunter-Seeker is following my posts closely (first at intervals of 10 minutes, then less and less). It has been narrowing down its response time, and I do believe it is nearby somewhere, lurking. Soon it will be within a few meters of me, at which point it will move at supersonic speed to inject me with a toxin that will render me into jelly. Unless…

This may be my last post ever, as the weapon of my demise is only a few moments away after this post goes live.

To whoever out there in the blogosphere desires me dead, please know that I may yet be able to defend myself from this thing, and if I do, I’m going to come looking for YOU. If you are a Harkonnen traitor hiding in my wall, time is running out. I’ve got my Fremen warriors right here and we are going to Voice your ass to smithereens.

Maybe more blog posts to come, maybe not. We shall see.

 

 

I’m no Paul Atraides, but still, apparently, worthy of assassination.

FLEE! FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!

Calm down Denethor.

I decided to, despite my skepticism about inclement weather, to go out and try my new and improved Muck Trench Bass-assassin fast retrieve bait. That was going pretty good for a few minutes, casts were long, accurate, retrieve felt good, bait had great vibration in the water, yes.

On the southern horizon, it was looking particularly stormy, but I paid this no mind until the flash of lightning caught my attention.

Lightning is no joke. I can strike miles from the storm center, and only needs an adequate bridge to complete the cataclysmic discharge. I became acutely aware of my circumstance: alone in an open field, a good 15 yards from the nearest tree, waving a graphite stick in the air. The “potential danger” alarm went off. WEEE OOOO WEEEE OOOO!!!

I called Mo to tell her I was fleeing with alacrity, and should be home soon. If not, I may be dead, or crispier than before  and that she should come recover my body if 10 minutes go by and I do not come back.

I have never chugged my clunky chug-sticks faster without breaking into a jog. I got home as the thunder and lightning were increasing in frequency just to the south, and as I watch now on the Doppler, I can see that cell about to go right over the field I was standing in.

At first, I was the hunter seeking my prey, but as I did, a much larger predator came onto the savanna and I ran like a frightened gazelle. Run off my spot by a fucking thunderstorm. Bastards.

Anyway, nothing like a brush with being “hunted” by something large and formidable to put the sparkly fear of God right in the pantaloons.

Preperation

Yesterday’s Evening Score: +2.5

 

I was writing a post, but I got too tired and deleted it. Instead, it’s the following morning and I and I’m doing just fine. I did decide after fishing yesterday that I was done with weed for a while. I was smoking and my only thought was: yuck. It didn’t feel good. This happened to me with cigarettes, and occasionally with coffee… my body just starts saying no to it. So, I’m done.

Anyway, this helps my goal of increasing my cardiovascular health. as of this morning, I am down 11.2 pounds from the beginning of the month. I have done this 220 to healthy weight loss before, about around September-November area. I went from 220 to 189 then gained 35 lbs over the holidays. GOD DAMN COOKIES. The first 15 – 20 lbs come off pretty fast, but then it’s hard to burn the rest of my belly fat off. I will be escalating as I get stronger. Elliptical, fast-walks, muscle building, and Yoga if I can make the time with ** to go and do it.

This week is coming to a conclusion in a few days, and I expect within the next 2 my final interview will be set-up and I will be offered a job n Friday. Which I will take. I can figure on saving 800 every 2 weeks and shelling the rest out for rent and expenses. After a few months though, I’m going to be fucking loaded. Plus the settlement from the lawsuit coming in at some point in the future. It’s just security in case my truck explodes or some other expensive thing happens. Wealth, for me, is based entirely on worth of personality. Must rich people got to be rich by fucking someone else in the ass and leaving them in the street to die, which is not a particularly redeeming/trustworthy personality trait IMHO. If I’m going to have wealth, I don’t want it to be something that defines me in any way. Money corrupts, lots of money corrupts lots more. I’m not sure that’s how that quote goes…

Anyway, ***** is back, and I’m glad she’s safe. It was nice to snap a few texts off yesterday. More face-to-face time is an order though… there is something that misses… it’s a really abstract feeling. Allow me to try to put this into words: It’s like being something on the shelf that is out of place and someone going: oh, let me get that straightened out real quick. Now, take that anecdote from the perspective of the thing on the shelf, and you’re starting to understand the feeling I have, loosely. Way too incorporeal to define, but describing it with similar type things seems to be my only effective way to articulate. Its a filter thing. Anyway.

I have a new sing-along playlist which is good since the other one was getting repetitive. “for whom the bell tolls” is still on there though. Classic. People think I’m insane when I’m lip-syncing on my way to the Best Fishing Spot. Joy pays no mind to doubters.

Have a good morning blog, and here’s hoping I get some time to talk to my friend *************************************** today.

Strings

Dawn to feel,

Some distant–

Dusty shelf.

Remnants–

Just strings.

Temple in ruin,

Dashed columns–

Memories collapse.

Bound to distant orbits,

Inescapably calling,

Begging–

Feeling the strain,

From somewhere far.

Strings,

Dancing, alive–

Inviting fate to speak.

Touch–

Past, future, present.

 

Zero G Slug Attack!

I have been infiltrated by an unwanted gastropod, who hitched a ride on me from some point on my fishing journey this morning. Once I put my jacket away, he crawled up the wall, then onto the ceiling. This is when I spotted him, on approach to deliver what I’m sure was to be the killing blow while I was busy blogging (or otherwise not paying attention to the potential of sky slug). “Son of a bitch!” I shouted, and disposed of the unwanted invader. “A watery death for you!” I cackled madly, my face illuminated from underneath and my eyebrows wildly accented. Muahaha!

I have “created” a new fishing lure (see abomination). As I described earlier, I demolished a rooster tail and added all this trout shit to it. It’s basically the worst thing I’ve ever seen, and the probability of catching anything more than an aquatic plant with it seems astonishingly low.

So I got my fucking dad laughing at me, and that’s probably fair, but nevertheless, he insists I should use “live” bait or food. “Just give me 5 minutes and a cheese ball” he keeps telling me. And I suppose if everyone in professional sports did steroids and got super artificially buff that would be cool too right? OH YAH, LOOK AT MAH MUSCLES? Moral equivalence! Food/live bait is cheating. I’m not fishing for food. There is no urgency, therefore I should be able to procure a fishy by NO OTHER MEANS than through skill/deception. I MUST fool the fish… it is the only way to achieve true honor. If the fish (surely) does not like this latest, sad offering to the gods of temptation, I’ll just come back tomorrow and try something new to fail with. Basically, this is a new low point for me as an angler. I’m not going to let another self-respecting fisherman see what I’m walking over to the water with tomorrow, and I will get to the spot under the cover of near darkness to avoid potential shame.

Ugh. Okay, all is not lost despite the troubling events of earlier. For a minute there though, I had to do a quick trip through the Torah. Locusts, frogs, burning hail, no plague of slugs. Phew. Then I was like, OH SHIT, Revelations though? Was one of the four horsemen a gastropod? FUCK! Was there anything about slugs or possibly flaming slugs (there is a lot of fire and brimstone and earth cracks and shit in there)? Again, phew. There  is no religious significance to today’s sky slug. It is not a herald of the Apocalypse, or a sign of God’s wrath upon the Egyptians (or any other -ians). Always double-check your biblical prophecies; don’t get caught flat footed when the seven headed beast shows up.

I’m coasting on a happy, riding this high to Friday, or maybe Thursday. We shall see. My optimism is astonishingly high, despite being defeated 23 – 0 by a fish. “Fuck you fish. You have nothing on me. Come at me bro!” That’s how we’re going to end this one.

The Calculating Predator

I can’t stay cooped up in here all the time blog, even if the environment is less than desirable. I broke with my medically induced resting period and got back out on the water, a little earlier than most other times I’ve been out there. I needed to go, and be outside, smell the morning air, and see the sun come up.

 

It was dark, like 4:45 or something am. I had a hunch the fish would be particularly chompy today and I was right. For once, the fish were actually biting my lure, however, because they are fucking stupid ass trench fish, they can’t even hit the part of the lure where the hook resides. They are hitting the shiny, twirly, silver blades of the spinnerbait, not the tasseled decoy-fish head with the hooks attached to it. I was distinctly nipped 3-4 times on my 50 – 75 retrieves. I specicically targeted the same ridge on 5 or so consecutive casts, and that’s when I noticed the bites. They do not like being pestered, and they will strike if pestered. Now I just need a bait they will hit and get stuck to.

I was thinking of cannibalizing a rooster tail topwater bait and making it into a sort of double bladed spinner-trout setup with two trebles and 4 spinning blade components, two per arm. I want to try it with the rooster on first, then ax it if they pay that no mind. Today, though fishless, was progress. These pestilent, contaminated trench dwellers have revealed the chink in their armor, the proverbial missing scale on the stalwart otherwise impregnable exterior of the dragon. Now I know how I’m going to defeat you, little fishy fishbrains. Your days of peace are dwindling fast.

The wind was with me today, so I got to practice a revised casting motion that allows my left hand to generate the “flick” to send the lure flying, rather than snapping the setup forward with my wrist, and leaving the left hand out of it. I had much better control after a few dozen casts, and was pinpointing boils when they happened (shit bit of good it did me). Muscle memory will take time, but the motion is fluid, effective and natural.

I’m looking forward to getting back to my 10,000+ steps a day. BOY can I tell when I’m not keeping up with my routine. I get lethargic, slow, achy, grumbly… it’s bad. But active, I feel loose, aware/alert, ready and can easily access a great deal of energy. Exercise, sun, breathing big deep breaths… there’s a lot meds can do for you, but they can’t do that. I’ll be back later today I imagine as things unfold.

 

All The Moths

What a fine morning it is blog! I’m reveling in my alacrity in producing a fantastic, near-lock job lead within my first 26 hours of being “available” to be hired. I also got a hit from NAMI Yolo who are also looking for a PSS, but possibly not paid. It was only a couple days ago I emailed them asking if they had volunteer opportunities, but clearly things have accelerated.

I have some peace in my environment, albeit undoubtedly temporary. They seem to have simply swept the broken glass under the rug and moved on, since the work to actually resolve the conflict is either beyond comprehension  or laboriously undesirable for them. I have re-iterated my case late last afternoon, and I do not believe I was really, again, taken seriously. My parents will see me withdraw from dysfunctional people who don’t resolve their issues. I don’t admire people who stagnate, explode and whine about having exploded. They are fully capable of resolving this if they can get past their bad communication habits. No mind reading, use non-accusatory “I” statements, reflect don’t project. Fundamentals simply forgotten, or abandoned as irrelevant for whatever reason.

Here I am putting on my Debbie Downer pants! Sorry blog, this post is not about them, it’s about the shiny thing that I have become! That’s right blog, I am adding a new adjective to the list of embellishing superlatives after my email signature: shiny! See below:

Westin Eric Bailey
Peer Support Specialist
ITE 15 Years Lived experience
Outstanding, Unique, Thoughtful, Moral, Honest, Dedicated, Intelligent, Shiny

 

Okay, I don’t sign my emails like that… but the exercise of positive self-acknowledgment is well worth the ridiculousness of it. Why are mentally ill people always so quick to shred themselves? It’s fucking EASY. Doubt, fear, hate, it’s like sugar on the tongue. It comes quick and strong, but lasts as long as a fire with no wood to burn. Instead of wasting my energy investing in negativity, I am filling my basket with happy. This brings me to my point about “shiny.”

I use that adjective because it brings to mind imagery (for me) of a light shining in the dark, in a place where many wander; lost or not knowing where to go. I have a light to shine in a place like that, and I know there will be people in this world who will benefit from my having been around to shine it. Like little moths who are drawn in to the safe glow of warm, I am a beacon that those around me will seek for meaning, honesty and trust. My heart is wide fucking open, and the risk that entails is great, but the energy it sends out in all directions is unmistakable, and undeniable. I have that radioactive confidence, because I have taken charge of my illness, and now, my life. The path I have chosen is empowering in a way I had not known would be possible.

The process I have gone through lately, as I look back, could not have been more transparent. Over the last 5 or so weeks I have grabbed the wheel and started driving my own car for the first time in many months since my relapse. Now, I stand at a point of desiring to break away to seek my own independence, while still bonded to those I love in a sort of caring yet indentured servitude for the rest of my ridiculous days. I coped with momentary trauma without escalating the crisis or injuring anyone emotionally, I endured my own individual up-and-down days and all the while retaining an active discourse here on this blog as a part of my coping skill-set.

I’m running off towards the future blog, metaphorically speaking… would you like to tag along? Oh, and one last more nugget of happy: as I continue my restricted died + exercise routine, I am now 8.8 lbs lost since the start of the month. Yeah boss. Every time I get on that scale and I see a smaller number, I get THAT MUCH MORE fired up to go out there and bust my ass to get healthy. It’s a big shot in the arm of reassurance that all the work was not in vain, but rather, just the beginning of a much healthier way of living.

Ta ta for now, and good morning!

Paths

Snarly hues,

Grumbling recesses–

Fetid in the dark,

Deep grip–

Dug in roots,

Creeped in moss,

Stagnant, rotting.

A change of wind–

Dust of blooms,

Enticing ribbons flail,

Winding bright–

A chance of taste,

Distant, remaining.

Contrasting,

The old color young,

On yellow days.

Second Interview

Score: +3

Hello blog, good afternoon to you. Here in Sacramento, I’ve been on the job market for no more than 26 hours before being (basically) snatched up. I have whizzed by the phone interview I had today and will now meet with the hiring manager ASAP, they said. As early as Friday, I could be employed. In fact, I’m willing to bet that I will be, based on all the signs I’ve seen so far.

I will be a Peer Counselor for Goodwill of Sacramento. Working with at-risk youth and homeless who come into the shelter for help. I will be getting hands-on in my community and making a real difference. Plus, I’ll get paid for it. This is the direction I have been trying to go, but had not been properly forced to act in such a rapid fashion.

Speaking of, the parents are still embroiled in conflict and doing little to address it properly. I’ve made it clear that figuring things out is necessary for retaining my presence, and they are, incrementally I guess, working on it. For now, I’ve seen a huge disorganization of my regular routine, but on second thought, this was a pretty good time to have a nuclear war. My forearm has been hurting in a tendonitis kinda way, so i’ve given it a break for the days in which all hell has been unleashed just outside my domicile.

I am going to do this, blog. I’m getting a job THIS WEEK. BOOM. I said I was going to go out there and do this, and I have pretty much just about fucking done it. Change your life? Why thank you sir, I think that sounds fine.

I am jazzed about today, I know these people are hot for my skills. I can feel it. I knows it. I tried to talk to my parents a little but Moo is just, not ready. She’s in denial. When she comes out of denial, and realizes the world she lives in is still the same as it was when she was in denial, I think we will have progress. For now though, they know I’m all done fucking around. Logically it makes more sense to stay, but I won’t stay in a place that poisons me.

The future. Saving money for a while, maybe finding a studio by the river to live in. I’ve already been looking at things that are in my pathetic budget. I definitely can move out, but again, logic commands that I should not, and try to save as much money as possible on a month to month basis. This is, logically, a good idea, as stated. However…

I’m going to have a kick fucking ass night, right here, right now. I’m going to be employed, able, and launching ahead towards a future of my own defining. How totally empowering to be such a wanted commodity and feel your worth weighed and measured. Damn, what a great day. WOOOOOO! JOB!!!!

Discovered Land

By that I mean personally; there are no new lands being charted. However, I do tend to start naming things in my environment once I become established. Below you will find a map of my new home and the various places I have marked and named. Explanations provided. The area, in general will be known as the Muck Trench and the surrounding foliage Muck Trench Woods.

 

Welcome to: Muck Trench Proper

 

1. The Sky Bridge: goes over the 80 and is the only way to get to the best fishing spot. Puts the fear of impending death on you every time you cross

2. Best Fishing Spot: where I stand around waving my stick in the air and catching nothing while fish laugh in my face

3. Alternate Fishing Spot: there is good mojo here, but no fish… which leads you to wonder what the fuck said mojo is really doing?

4. Long Road: this is the area where a Grass Bear would be most likely to strike, beware (distant, more aggressive relative of Sand Bear)

5. Far Outpost: possibly radioactive, possibly lost alien hardware, possibly the doom of humankind… 100% mystery

6. Sleepy Spot: never looked very comfortable, and now it’s kinda dead, and scattered about like a lion kill

7. Near Outpost: not too far from the road and the spider union has its lodgings here (SUMT local 888 [we let the Black Widows decide the numbers])

8. Popular Fishing Spot: just as mucky as the rest of the Trench but here you can park a car and take in the smells up close

 

My starting point is always to cut through Barandas Park to get at the paved walking trail. You must “bushwack” a few feet to get from paved road by the sky bridge to Muck Trench service road where the rest of the trail goes. This is the one I need to take *** on and see what she if she thinks it’s as exciting as I do. Lots of fuzzy animals running around, pesticide loaded scuz pit to our left… noice. Some nature better than broken solo cup and homeless guy sleeping for scenery on my walks in El Cajon.

I’m geared up for another fantastic week in my newfound home, starting with my warmline and trip to the NAMI office today. I need to tell David that I am now very actively seeking employment due to my recent acceleration of life-timetables. I want him to have first crack. I know I need to make at least as much as I was at my last job If I want to afford a 1BR around here. I’m doing a budget spreadsheet this morning in preparation for my eventual transition. Without calculation, planning and care, well-intended steps towards progress can sometimes be misplaced. So for now, we are in the stages of the process where everything gets figured out before we execute (by “we” I am referring to myself, my PM and my Architect). A lot like building something with blueprints. Look at them for a good long time and make sure that with the way it’s drawn, that it will all fit together again when they have to go out and build the thing.

I’m tired of not being the Lord of my own castle, with an Iron Throne to perch myself on and hand out edicts to my vassals (which at this point would consist of any insect or rodent that would have wandered onto the premises). I need a pit full of slaves looking sad, and another pit with slaves fighting hundreds of very angry tortoises. Ah yes, my reign will be long and prosperous. “Bring your Lord some more Saltines!”

So blog, I’m going to the office today so I get to fancycate myself and smell less like moldy elephant splatters and more like “fresh” human. Hooray! I’m starting up at 8, then heading over to the office at 10. I have a great deal of optimism for myself about the direction I have decided to go. I am still sad to see my parents self-destructing just beyond my ability to do anything about. I feel less flabbergasted today, but still resolved to seek alternative living arrangements as soon as possible. I just don’t need roommates, not even my parents, though I love them both. I need to be in my own space, by myself, in charge of what happens in the environment and secure in a self-defined kingdom of my own control. I feel this is a healthy step towards better individuation, albeit, sounding a bit like a maniacal overlord planning a takeover rather than a mentally ill person making a healthy life transition. There are more possible future outcomes that lead to happiness for me now if I move out on my own than if I were to stay in this box.

It’s already off to a good start, this week, and I eagerly await the next few days as my foot presses harder onto the gas pedal; racing forward towards the promise of better days. I’ll be checking in here through the day… so bai for now!

 

“No Despair”

I am now listening to music and feeling remarkably better, singing “Ventura Highway” here in the fading moments of the weekend. You know, music just lit my fire again!

I’m going to redirect my life in a totally healthy direction, and I’m already started! Now, let’s sing for a little and celebrate this calamity that has forced such a beautiful change! The restoration of my long lost independence is about to be realized, and the groundwork for success is being laid. I know that shit had to get kinda choppy for me to hurry the fuck up, but I have, and I am continuing to pursue a deep and full future.

If I could update my Score. it would be a +1.5 right now. BOOM BITCHES.

I’m going to sing myself exhausted and smile at all the great memories I looked back on today in the last few hours. Man, I have lived with some beautiful women in my life, and each one of them still makes me smile. Yeah, I know I’m a fucked up asshole. Whatever. Since then, I’ve made a fair bit of progress out of the slop of unforgivability. Forgive me ladies, I did you no justice. I was a fool who had yet to become. I’m sorry.

Tonight blog, despite great toxicity, I am channeling a constructive enthusiasm which lends me to forge a better future for myself. If dissatisfied with life, figure out what is within the scope of influence, and change! Inact change blog, if you are stagnant, if you are dysfunctional and always disagreeing, just talk!

Singing seems to be a worthy activity for conjuring some zest for life. What a jubilant expression, to sing, to have your voice go out into the world regardless of how shrill and glass-shattering it is. Man, I am fortunate to be where I am, and I will never stop trying to improve the lives of those I love, and also, promoting my own personal health above all else. This is one of those moments where I am choosing the life path that ONLY coincides with better mental health. Logically it is not sound, since I am not paying any rent where I am. To take on 1,400 a month is pretty yikes.  However, blog, the point here is money is meaningless in comparison to sound mental health. I would pay through the flaming anus for stability.

It doesn’t matter what it costs blog, money is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is if we are living for happiness, honesty and love. I fucking despise money, but it’s cosmic relevance is not lost on me, however. To play the “Real Life” game you need money. There is no avoiding it if you want to establish any sort of identity in society. You need money coming in. You need to be USEFUL in some way, in a way that somebody else would throw money at you to keep you doing the useful thing you are doing. This is my life/dream/destiny = to be eternally useful in a morally relevant context and to make just enough money to keep people from bothering me for more money. I wish for nothing but shelter, food and someone who loves me the way I love them (and won’t let me perish).

I’ve had a rapid sort of calamity driven epiphany today, but I’m glad it happened. It was very useful in igniting a ferocious Bunsen Burner under my repulsive/bio-hazardous ass, in order to get me aptly motivated to erect my independent existence. I hadn’t planned on this, but I am adapting admirably given the semi-hostile circumstances. Also, I’m sure as time passes, I’m going to be more energized to forge my new identity in a city that knows nothing about me. I have a chance to start all over, and make that big fucking splash somewhere I’ve always known myself capable of.

Today needed a turn in the positive. Did you really think an erupting volcano was where the evening’s diatribe was going to stop? You should know by now that optimism is the engine that drives me forward, and the hope of a full and beautiful future compels each step towards the future I hope I earn. I don’t know what’s happening or what’s going to happen, but the one meager thing I can plan for is that I will do whatever I have to to achieve stability for my family and love those who come close to me. I will be loyal, and honest always. Once you are family, you never aren’t family. I will protect and serve those I love with the full-throated enthusiasm of the very first rooster to call out the arrival of dawn.

Know this, blog, I will be the man I have always known I am, and his arrival upon the landscape of independent society is nigh. Prepare for a slightly more introspective and insightful future. For my future love, for my career, and for all the people who I will help in my time serving the needs of the disadvantaged. The meaning and significance of this destiny is irrefutable, and is mine, for the rest of my life.

 

Beer and Boom

I think this will be my last post for today. I have the beers and I intend to drink them, and slip quietly into oblivion. Today can go fuck itself.

I have included this image which I found, demonstrating that sometimes things go boom, but after enough trees are flattened, things are good again. I claim that of my many talents, this one is not. I am a sham to even idle doodlers, but I get to express whatever I want out here. May some shitty drawing I had from years ago remind me of things that go boom.

My Sister’s Card

See below for my truly fantastic, original, cards for people on holidays. It is a tradition of absolutely superior quality, and to have a maker’s mark of some form. In this instance, the recipient was my sister, and the occasion is Mother’s Day. On a side note, the creatures spoken of on the card are REVILED by my sister, who insists they are among the few things on this Earth she truly despises.

 

I HIGHLY doubt anyone knows what the Evil Eye of Orms-By-Gore is, but if you do, tell me!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Score: +1

 

Things have taken a turn for the turd bowl here in the last few hours. I’m in solitary confinement while the storm of resentment grows and looms just outside my door. No one is talking to anyone, no one cares to ask how, or what they might try to do to bring peace. No, instead people storm off, or just sit there doing nothing like the whole world has gone away. It’s pretty lame, to be honest. look at all the wasted, useless sorrow that has been spent on these such events? If only you two could talk to each other then maybe you’d actually hear what the other has to say.

This environment frustrates me today. I imagine it will be better soon but not without some effort on my parents’ part. They have to salvage this Hindenburg before it’s just a burning metal skeleton.

I applied for 4 jobs today, and my resume already good at least looked at on a weekend. Noice. I updated all my resumes, and I’ll probably be adding more fluff on to them to make it poofy and such. It’s not bullshit if it’s true, but relevance is the scale that determines fluff quality.

I would have liked to have had a normal day. Instead, because of my parents and their total inability to do the basic conflict resolution any couple should be able to after being together for so long, I’m in my room with the door closed. Everything is anger, hatred, malice outside. I refilled my water and it was fucking excruciating to be out there in that big sweltering pit of misery they’ve made for themselves.

Man, I was on such a good feeling earlier this weekend. What a bummer. Totally out of my hands. Like a fucking spiritual rainy day. Fuck. I wanted my goals met, and now because of trauma triggers, they won’t be. You know, I’m writing myself a guilt free coupon here. I spent all the mid morning and early afternoon beefing up my employability and getting my name in people’s hands. I can think of no better way to deal with a situation than to take charge of the areas of it I can control.

I can’t do anything about when and for how long my parents fight, but I can decide where I am when they happen. I have no interest in smashing my head into the two single most stubbornly opposed to communicating individuals I have yet dealt with. They listened to approximately ZERO suggestions I made for them. I said things like “ask for clarity,” “Don’t mind read each other,” “tell me about how YOU feel,” “can you frame that as an ‘I’ statement?” Not for one second was any of that even remotely considered relevant, because it went out the other ear and onto the shit pile of things our son says that aren’t worth a fucking thing.

Meanwhile, they’re still not giving a shit about my email even, the one place I tried to adequately express myself today. I feel just, hopeless right now. I wish they’d just drive away for a few days and leave me alone.

She comes in here acting like I wasn’t going to Mother’s day at my sister’s house today. Did she ask me, ever? Nope, she just assumed because I wasn’t talking to anyone that meant I wasn’t going to do anything fun today. Assumed. Right there, the very thing I’m talking about. No communication. No asking me if I was going, no acknowledgment of anything that’s going on. Ridiculous. I need an actual healthy environment in which to thrive and this sham is absolutely not it.

This is fucking 1 day after they said they wanted to be better communicators with me they pull this assumption shit. Are you fucking kidding me right now? What did my request retain its meaning for all of 23 hours? NEW WORLD RECORD GUINNESS. Look it up. One day later blog, it’s back to zero. Fuck me in the eye please.

Someone’s going to need to wake the fuck out of the stupid zone and move themselves somewhere more useful. The outside world won’t remain intolerable forever, but I eagerly await the events that will lead to a rendering of reason and explanation. Ultimately though, this crisis will be brushed under the rug like every other before it, and the table set for the next party guest to come in and blow up safety, normalcy and fun with idiocy. THIS COULD ALL HAVE BEEN AVOIDED. I hate to say it, but this didn’t have to get to the point of me not want to live here anymore. If you all had just fucking done some things to take care of each other and listened to you son’s suggestions, maybe he wouldn’t be pushing the eject button on living under your roof.

I’m determined to be a healthy person, and I won’t have the two of them fucking that up with their stubbornness and inability to share/trust/love each other in situations of vulnerability. I don’t know what it is blog, but I’m not the doctor. I don’t have the cure. They’ve always had it, in their hands, the whole time. I just tried to remind them they were holding it. to no avail, mind you. Oh blog, how acutely frustrating to be totally unable to address something broken between two people you love.

 

The Email

My dad came in here and tried to do what he always does, and I got fed up with his attempts to leverage me as the middle-man in their disagreements. Not to mention the enticing reward of not  being respected either. I’m just a negotiator no one is listening to. So, I basically told them both I’d had enough, and wrote them the following email with a BCC for my sister. She’s a part of this family too, and she deserves to know what’s going on with us. I’m certainly not going to shoulder this alone. Here’s what I wrote:

I am not going to arbitrate your disagreements any more and please do not involve me in your fights. Neither of you have listened to a single piece of advice I’ve given you to effectively improve your communication skills and you find yourselves back in the same spot over and over. 

I have proved to be more frustrating to deal with than useful since I am tired of not listened to about any of your disconnects. Either that, or you are content in this dysfunction you seem to have, and unwilling to change it at all or even seek a solution that prevents further trauma.
This environment, in this state, is something I want no part of. When I had a psychotic break at work, it was because I had to walk in to a place, inescapably, every day, where people roiled with hatred towards me. It created an energy and a pressure on me that caused my to break down mentally and snap.
I will not let that happen again, and your continued lack of ability to effectively talk to each other has forced my hand prematurely. I will not have a place I cannot escape from be toxic and poison my mental health, which is what you two have perpetuated. I am going to forgo my plan to be a volunteer for the immediate future and seek employment, followed shortly by my moving to a 1BR somewhere else in Adagio. I will not let you damage my mental health, or my environment, hamper my sense of safety, or trigger a trauma I have no desire to relive. 
This is non-negotiable. I have tried my best to help you two, but you’re in denial of your issues, unwilling to be real, and content to blame/judge each other into your separate corners. If anything, look at your history of fighting, sweeping the bits under the rug and moving on. How’s that working out for you? Have you ever stopped to consider another way of doing things?
It’s on you two now. 
 
Now, personally, I don’t think there’s anything mean about this letter. It’s clear from my tone that I’m frustrated with the dynamic, and raising the MH alarm which is always concerning. I don’t feel upset, just tired of being used the same way over and over, with no effort to change anything to make it better. I’m a band-aid, and I’d rather be something more than just a band-aid. I deserve more respect than that for all the shit I’ve been through, and I don’t get that here. I’m not an expert on anything because I’m their kid.
Well, I’m taking my health into my own hands and not allowing someone else’s inability to mature beyond petty squabbles interfere with the arc of my success and ongoing mental health. It’s nothing personal, and I have no resentment. I’ve just seen where this road goes, and I don’t want to go there. Not ever again. I hope I can drop by as less a resident and more a visitor and perhaps that will change our dynamic a bit.

3… 2… 1…

As projected, I have tossed full energy into the pursuit of immediate independence. I am now active and fully resume-updated on 3 bigtime job sites and I also have 2 applications out today. One of them I’m sure is going to garner me some attention, that is, If they are still taking applications. I’ve had fun writing all my qualifications out, certs, education and prior job experience. I am a very marketable commodity with all this good shit going for me. I like applying for jobs because all my cover letters are just another opportunity to toot my little horn about how fantastic I am and all the stuff I’ve done.

 

So I will put my after fishing morning energy burst into job search, and just hack away at the fucker a little every day. Once I secure a job for sure, I can talk to my parents about my plan. I already know they would be in favor of such a thing as they have made it clear the plan was never keep me here so I was easy to access. I’m basically compromising in my desire to live in my own place, but still be close enough by to where running might be the fastest way to get from me to them. I, in no way, want to abandon my poor parents to their own little spiral. I want to be there for them every day, but still able to walk away from a space controlled by them to a space controlled by me. All of you renters out there know you are some serious shit in the house where you pay rent. “I pay the rent, I’m the boss, got it, bub?” I’m not sure who I was talking to there, my plan was to live alone. Maybe a plant had been disobedient and needed to be set straight.

 

It’s going to be a good week blog! I’m really excited to launch myself forward into my career and new life here in Sacramento. I have really been processing a lot this week and into the weekend. I’ve barfed out thoughts from both ends of the spectrum out here in Bloggytown. This open deliberation makes it easy to see when there is a problem, and begins the process of hoping for a solution. Albeit, not everything discussed can be “solved,” as logistical things are only a small part of the overall thing. Most of what is here is just brain-vomit. I’m having a symptom: bbbbllllaaaarrrrggghhh. There you go. I don’t think it’s good reading, I never have. But it is honest, and repulsive at times, and hilarious at others, but my stupid process is what it is nonetheless. I highly recommend you language based people with mental illness consider writing. Expression totally works. Honesty is beautiful. Trauma is real. All will pass in time.

 

I need to kick my own ass and get going here. I definitely don’t want to start slipping downhill because the environment is not a friend. I did title the post that way for a reason. I do feel like I’ve had to move the launch ahead and fire off this rocket sooner than expected. Either now or later, I’m confident the only direction we are going is up.

The Time To Act

As I had discussed in a post last night, my parents are being disagreeable again, and poisoning the house with all their negative energy. Even back here in my little cave, I can feel them resenting each other, pissed, bitter, fuming. Boy oh boy do I hate that. The ENVIRONMENT is toxic? Jesus fuck that’s where my bed lives!

My point is instead of slamming my face into the wall trying to teach my parents something they don’t want to learn how to do, I’m going to resolve this the only other way I know how. I need to go get my own place to live. Period. My stability cannot, under any circumstances, be damaged by someone else’s neglectful MH behavior. My parents’ inability to communicate and discuss their feelings without fish-slapping each other with them is the reason they are to be left alone. They create negative energy, unresolvable anger, and that is something they can do all by themselves. It’s like, if someone told you the land right next to Chernobyl was cheap, would you still build your house there?

I’ve been looking and there are plenty of nice apartments right here in Adagio I can try. They have 1 BR that could easily be within range of a part time job, and surplussing with a full time gig. I don’t want to leave this complex, it’s seriously the most beautiful place I’ve ever lived in, and the nearby amenities are irresistable. So I do need my own place though, without any dysfunction that refuses to acknowledge or address itself. My presence is contingent upon things being safe, and under control, and as long as my parents think that “working out their problems” means yelling, slamming doors, leaving for hours and being hateful are the best ways to deal with a crisis, they’ll be doing it by themselves. I’m not 19 anymore guys. I grew some decent skills and started actually facing my issues rather than being ignorant of the real problem.

So yes, my financial mark is pretty low frankly. I think with a week or two really pounding away at it, I can get a job and start saving some money for a few months. Then I’ll put a few thousand down to make them feel safe and move in to my own place just down the walkway. I think that would be pretty cool.

So blog, I’m upping my timetables. I was REALLY hoping to get in a paid position with NAMI for the long term, since I am a roots-to-branches program success story. At this point though, I need to be in my own space completely removed from the swell of rage just outside my door, or any other future moment when the tide comes in. It’s not a good feeling blog, especially for me. They realize that last time I had a psychotic break was for reasons exactly like this. I was in a work environment full of anger, roiling hatred, but at least then, it was directed at me. Right now, it’s just like a cloud of poisonous gas outside my door waiting to choke me to death with resentment if I venture out. I don’t anticipate being at a breaking point with that anytime soon, but I’m also not interested in the ongoing risk of exposure.

Getting my own place blog, much much sooner than previously thought.

Nope

Hello again. I’m cancelling today’s trip to the Murky Trench due to injury. I went from not fishing for 2+ years to fishing every day, and needless to say, something broke. I have a sort of flick-and-guide cast motion from my right side, and one of my forearm muscles utilized in this motion is ouch. Positive it’s tendonitis and it will require time to get right, as I have had this sort of thing before for different reasons (word to the wise, don’t jerk off more than 12 times in a day). The motion of turning my forearm over at the elbow as I cast is where the pain happens. Well, fish, it looks like there is a Fish Jesus after all. Lucky little fuckers. I’m coming back. Enjoy the break… while it lasts.

So, I’m going to try to walk a bit further than normal today as, though still fishing is clearly a LEISURE ACTIVITY not a SPORT, it does require stamina to do it for any length of time with a fast-retrieve bait. I cast anywhere from 35 – 65 times a morning depending on how many bugs there are. It does take a particular set of muscles to launch a spinnerbait a few dozen yards, just like it takes wrist and ass strength to drive a NASCAR round and round for hours. Also, not a sport. Golf is on the border… if they did less walking I’d say Leisure Activity but those fuckers do burn the calories.

I’m not one of those anglers who’s all serious and shit. Yeah, like when have I ever been serious about anything other than fucking up my life? I’m the misguided angler, the one too stubborn to adapt and be successful, the one who thinks his attitude of denialism will somehow lead to a fish. Hmmm, this introspective journey has led me to a corner I cannot bullshit my way out of. New paragraph!

So I’m going to need to vent from time to time out here about these Goddamn fish. All this time they’re going to their little cocktail parties and they’re discussing my tiny human brain and stupid head/face over their dry Vodka martinis. FUCK YOU GUYS. Laugh it up Fishies. Enjoy this little peak moment when you feel like you are all safe, secure and not harassed by an annoying angler. These days of quiet are numbered pally. For you and all your little swimmy friends. Soon. The Reckoning!

I feel like I should quote John’s Revelation or something, but chances are, these Bass haven’t read the New Testament and they totally wouldn’t get it. Wait, are the fish reading my blog? How would they see this? HOLY SHIT. Epiphany. Boom.

Hope you have a good morning blog. I need to sit in the shower for a while and loosen up my muscles, while also cleansing myself of all the stuck-on food, poop, pee splatter and fungus off my epidermis. Talk to you later.

My Ever-Changing Heart

Oh blog, the years have taught me some useful survival skills when it comes to matters of the heart. For me, my heart has changed an number of times, and occasionally, not when it was at all convenient to do so. I followed my heart to love at certain points (or my cock, the jury is still out), only to find a change of circumstance a short time later led to a dramatic shift in desire. I have felt my direction change while I was mired in a marriage that was hurting me mentally, but was stubborn, so I stayed. After the suicide attempt, I started to learn to not shove those feeling away, but to listen to them.

The heart is tricky, because sometimes it leads us to such happiness, only then to have life or a change in disposition snatch it away. Life really is chasing a little chicken through the yard. Sometimes we catch the chicken, if not for a few fleeting moments, but its small and squirrely so it gets away. I guess in this metaphor finding real lasting happiness is cooking and eating the chicken, so yeah. My metaphors have been a tad dark lately.

Honestly, there may not be that moment where one is to say: I am now truly, content. Life changes every single second, and nothing that is constant can stay relevant. In order to succeed, the heart must lead WITH change not against it, and the conversation on stability should be deep, revealing, honest and full of the hope for a blending rather than a division. We all strive to find joy in our lives, and the inconsistent desires of the heart don’t make that easier.

In my mind, whenever my little fire gets going, I start to wonder what I am walking towards. Is there happiness down this road somewhere? Is there a future here that coincides with growth and progress? In the past, I have loved people who needed help to move forward in life, but this is not partnership. Partners are equal, and they share the burden of reality and do what they must to help each other. If one has to drag the other around, there is no sustainability there. I lost my love and had to walk away from that life, because it became apparent that I was going nowhere, and certainly not up while dragging someone behind me.

My moral lesson here is to be adaptable. Things change, feelings shift, and sometimes people can endure those changes without growing infinitely frustrated with each other. Sometimes we do grow apart and move away from each other. I’ve known this personally, and it is a tough thing to realize if you are still in love with the person who is moving away, as I was. I didn’t know how to cope with that then, but it does make a lot more sense to me now. I don’t think I would hurt the same way now that I have such an understanding of the volatility of love. Trial, failure, recovery. All these stages have led me to be a true appreciator rather than someone who pines. I have an open forum to love, and for people to freely change their way right out of my life without my empire crumbling. Why burden yourself with the pressure of eternity? How many times have I said I was going to do something “forever” and the longest that sort of “forever” lasted a few years and then it was not “forever” anymore. We are foolish to think things just can go on and on unchanging, when every clue around us tells a different story.

We must adapt our love to survive, and be the benevolent overlord of our hearts. May they know the freedom to love, and feel, and be, but not the heartache of having that feeling not go on forever, unchanging, safe, strong, impregnable, but inevitably, imobile. Forever doesn’t bend people. I had to get divorced twice and fall right on my face a few times to come to that realization. Granted, I was not the most stable individual during that time, but still, I think the logic is sound. We want to have lives that are planned, have road signs, and that we never feel lost in the forest. The thing is people, you don’t learn anything new by following the signs and never deviating from the path. Explore the bushes, find the secret, hidden road. There is so much more to life being allowed to be unexpected than trying to defend reality from the constant changes of living.

This has been a tough lesson for me. I’m eager to give away love and dedication to those I treasure, but I also am aware that people come and go as they will. I love those who I can reach, and call out to those too far away to come closer for a time. Love is a door one can walk through and then leave from. This is the final evolution of the heart, one with the omniscient confidence to spread joy to those who take shade under my limbs, if not only for a time. I know In my heart that I have learned, and value the hard lessons I did benefit from. So blog, the moral here is to be open. Talking, sharing, discussing… all are going to lead to a communication that is hopefully honest and can facilitate a peaceful reconnection.

 

Sigh

The parents are at it again with their absolutely dysfunctional way of communicating with each other. They snap, yell, assume, judge, you know, all the things you should avoid doing. They also never ask for clarity, or a moment to pause, or anything like that. They inflate, expand, and explode. Over and over again.

I’ve failed to instill any communication skills in them at all. It’s because I’m not an expert at anything in their eyes. I’m still just their son. I’m not an adult who lives with them, I’m a kid who needs to be told what to do so he doesn’t fuck up. I’ve had my fair share of conversations with them about treating me and each other with respect, and they don’t get it. Not one teeny tiny bit.

So, as a healthy communicator, I’m in an environment where my skills can’t be utilized or even practiced. It wasn’t until I found ******* again that I’ve finally had someone I could effectively communicate with. Boy was that refreshing to talk to someone who could reflect, understand and be a safe place to reveal trauma. I can’t do that here. No one in this house has even the slightest idea what to do in a crisis.

This is one of many posts that leads me to want to remove myself from this living arrangement eventually. I still love my parents, but they’re basically a lost cause at this point. I can’t learn anything from them in regards to good mental health behaviors. Moo seems to have largely just slipped back to not caring about anything and doing what she wants. I’ve been poking her to motivate but she’s resistant. She listens to no one but herself.

Parental relationships can be complex, and even though they’ve been married for a long ass time, they are still not in a healthy relationship. Not by a long shot. Nevertheless, I will still try to be the bastion of hope on this battlefield. I’ll never stop loving them or trying to convert them to functional communications, even if I know they will never change. Dedication is something that doesn’t stop.

Recap

Score: +2.5

I was feeling like getting out and about today so I walked all over the fucking place. 18,000 steps and counting. I’m feeling better as time goes on and I get out more consistently. Having an every day fishing objective is really nice since it’s refreshing just to fish (regardless of catching anything). My energy was still a little low though, and I know on a more poppy day I could have gone further.

The fam and I just watched the TV adaptation of Childhood’s End which was pretty well done. It’s going to be a relaxing weekend leading up to another fun and exciting week of possibilities. I don’t have much to say at this point… I’ve been through my processes and pretty much arrived at a stable place. Just look at all the damn posts, clearly I have been thinking about some things. Hope you guys have a good night.

Remembrance

Passed through strands,

Fringes–

Sparkling with delight,

Her smile–

Thick honey sweet.

Broken columns,

Deposed–

Razed in ruin,

Ash on her lips.

Promises fleeting,

Born of absolution,

Skying towards sunrise–

Breathe new air,

The dawn has come.

A Story of Realm

This is inspired by the novel I am writing, Kingdom of Realm which is a high fantasy fiction epistolary narrative. Below was a piece I worked on in preparation to start writing the novel itself, to see something in my mind and be able to describe it for someone else to read and also understand. So I guess the point here is simply to entertain. If you find the little short story enjoyable, just know there’s more down the line.

 

~~~~~~

Story 4
By Sea

It was dawn on the calm and temperate waters of the Trader’s Bay. The Merciful’s Jeshan Shifter was crouched on a short platform projected over the port side of the ship. He was clasping a vein of Stream in his hand firmly, held over the deep ocean and the pulsing ribbon of light disappeared far underwater once it was outside of his fist. Atop the mast, the Bessan scouting in the Crow’s Nest was silent and watching the horizon through his hand lens. The sun’s light was beginning to fill the sky with an orange glow as the deck bell rang out one chime and a sailor yelled, “ahead full speed!”

 

The Jeshan held the Stream constantly while on duty and also used his Shifting to send a branch of it up the mast, within snapping range of the Bessan. This task alone required a fundamental commitment of mental energy, not to mention his additional responsibilities and requirements. The two Shifters fell into their morning duties and the Jeshan opened the water and pulled the ship through it with the power of the Stream. Soon, the sails were flush with a wind that was being empowered by the Bessan in the Nest and the vessel raced through the water of the Bay with unnatural quickness. The Jeshan, sprayed with hissing water as he parted the low swell to ease the passage of the bow, felt the Stream tugging on him to be released back to its natural place on the floor of the Bay. He had to keep his mind focused on holding it or else it would snap away and he would not be able to retrieve it again. If the Stream was to return to where it would normally be on the seafloor, it would be too far away to call back. The ship would need to return to shallower water under its own power so that the Stream could be retrieved. Aware of those things, the Jeshan continued concentrating and passed the wooden ship through the sea with haste as the Merciful patrolled on the open Bay.

 

Their ship was a member of the Blue Fleet, an extension of the Last Knights of Realm. They operated an elite peacekeeping armada on the middle and east Bay to stifle some of the flagrant criminality and piracy. Their home port is located at Naruna, but they also have well-established presences at Cheed, Greenwall Port and Teayl. It was essential for the land and sea to both be secure in the free and independent region of the Fold, as this too was a part of their Old Way. They and their seafaring counterparts in the south (the Royal Navy of Realm), patrol the waters of the Trader’s Bay and secure it from rampant danger.

 

The mast alarm of the Merciful rang out as the ship raced through the open sea. “Column of smoke, zero nine zero!” He shouted, pointing over the starboard side to the distant horizon with his hand lens. The Jeshan turned due east but saw nothing. Clearly scouting not being his strongest skill.

“Make your heading zero nine zero.” The Captain on the bridge said, and the ship turned. “Ahead flanking speed!”

 

The call went out and the Jeshan Shifter poured his energy into parting the waves for the ship to slide through smoothly to its target. The Bessan blasted the wind into the sails and accelerated the ship with a torrent of air. The Merciful raced across the Bay to the column of smoke with remarkable alacrity. Once their ship got close, they could see what remained of the burned passenger vessel slowly sinking into the sea. The Merciful slowed and began to rescue those already in the water. They took the crew and passengers they saved below deck as the stranded ship sank. The sailors confirmed they had been viciously attacked and boarded by a much smaller, faster ship which flew a black flag and may have had a Shifter helping them.

 

The sailors hurried about climbing the mast again and setting the rigging for fast travel. Men darted about on different jobs, all working to bring the ship to readiness. Having come to a complete stop to collect survivors from the attacked vessel, the Merciful turned itself about.

“Mast sighted bearing zero nine zero!” The Bessan signaled down from the Nest while holding the Stream.

“Bessan!” The Captain shouted from the deck. “Is that them?”

The Bessan in the Crow’s Nest could feel the Stream being tugged in the direction of the ship, but he could not see anything more. “That one probably has a Shifter on board!”

“Understood.” The Captain said. A Shifter at sea is a dangerous weapon, not to be abused.  “Let’s hunt these pirates down!” The Captain shouted, and his crew let out a hearty roar in agreement.

 

As the pirates sailed out into the open eastern ocean, the Merciful began her chase far to the west. The Blue Fleet vessel lurched forward, then gathered speed rapidly as the Shifters and crew labored. The Jeshan Shifter held the Stream firmly and concentrated as the crew unfurled the sails. He opened the path for the ship to be guided through with little resistance. The Bessan churned the wind fiercely as the wood groaned against the strain and the Merciful surged towards the horizon.

 

From the Crow’s Nest of the pirate ship, the lookouts spotted the Merciful coming up from the west and gaining speed rapidly. He sounded the alarm and men began to scramble about the deck of the ship readying themselves for potential combat. Some of the sailors took their bows and their quivers and lined up on the sides of the ship, igniting their torches; hoping to get a chance to set their enemy ablaze.

The pirate Captain looked wildly up at the sailor in the Nest. “Blue Fleet?”

The sailor nodded.

“Scum,” He grunted angrily to himself. “We’ll show these Knights how we do things in the Trader’s Bay! We will not run today men! It’s them, or us!” A great cheer went up amongst the crusty criminals. The pirate Jeshan Shifter turned their small vessel about and the men at the helm began to charge straight at the Merciful. The pirate Captain had a smile on his face which grew larger as the two ships settled into a collision course. He pulled his fancy Captain’s hat lower on his head and stared forward menacingly. The Jeshan could not bring the ship close to the same speed as the Merciful, but could ease its journey through the water while the wind carried it, and at least that was in their favor.

 

“They are charging us Captain!” A deckhand of the Merciful at the bow shouted.

“Good.” The Captain said confidently. “This should be over quickly.”

He looked up at the Crow’s Nest and shouted, “do they have a Shifter?”

“Yes,” the Bessan said. “One Jeshan. On the port side.”

“Okay then.” The Captain looked out across the deck with steel in his gaze. “All hands to battle positions, and ahead ramming speed! Prepare for starboard side attack! We turn on my orders! They have a Jeshan so men, be ready!”

 

The pirate Captain’s grin was changing to a snarl as the Merciful continued on a collision heading at ramming speed. He noticed the distance between the two ships was closing rapidly.  The pirate Captain then entertained the possibility that this might be his very last mistake at sea. I will break this man. He thought to himself in a bold sort of delusion.

He turned to face his crew and bellowed, “Notch your arrows sea rats and prepare to fire starboard side! Turn the ship to port on my signal! Let’s burn these fools! Ready the oil at the railing! Drench them in burning death!”

 

“Prepare yourself for what they may do Jeshan and react,” the Captain of the Merciful shouted. “Bessan, once we pull broadside, light them up. All hands brace! Hard to port!”

 

The Merciful broke from its ramming course and so did the pirate ship, just as they began to come perilously close to colliding. The Bessan in the Nest struck his flint and ignited some frayed paper as he huddled with the Stream in his hand. Both vessels turned and exposed their starboard flanks to each other for a few moments as he rapidly created a small fire in his palm. The Bessan stood up as the ships came broadside and channeled the raw power of his ethereal elemental mastery. The archers on the enemy ship fired a volley of arrows with perfect placement and timing, while they readied the hot oil to be launched on their next pass. The Bessan unleashed his fire into the space between the two ships in a violent, expanding blast wave. He cast forth a scalding arc of devouring death which incinerated the arrows in flight before they found their targets. The colossal burst of flames lashed the pirate ship, burning men on the rails, who were rendered to ash or fell overboard screaming. The oil ignited in the cauldrons and exploded in a devastating, concussive blast. The starboard deck of the pirate ship was gone and the hull had been breached below the waterline. Fire was spreading all over the ship as flung oil set the sails ablaze. Men were cast about in the blast, pulverized by splintered wood and many more had thrown themselves in the water to escape burning to death. The power of the ignited oil had blown the pirate Captain’s hat overboard, which he took as a bad sign.

 

The Jeshan on the pirate ship acted quickly and used his Shifting to splash water up and over the starboard side and the sails, but the damage was done. The ship did not sink immediately, but it could not escape and now drifted away from the Merciful helplessly. Its sails were little more than singed tatters and many of the crew were dead or no longer aboard. The opportunity to strike back was fading rapidly for the pirate Jeshan and with what he had left of his strength, he blasted the stern and rudder of the Merciful with a column of displaced water. The powerful concussion split the hull below the sealine and shattered the rudder and the Merciful pivoted away, wounded and hobbling.

 

The Merciful was rapidly taking on water in the lower stern hold as sailors ran up from below decks to deliver the news. “We have enough time to abandon ship sir” one of the deck crew said. The captain looked forward at the closing distance between his ship and the pirates’.

“How much time?” He said.

“Five minutes or less before the stern is underwater sir.”

“Ahead full.” The Captain leaned forward. “Move the ship to firing position. Jeshan, you snap that ship in two on my order.”

 

The indignant and crisped remaining crew of the pirate ship took to the stern of their crippled vessel and fired more arrows as the Merciful as their enemy coasted within range. The pirate Captain on the deck of his charred ship rallied his men to fight. “Stand with me and we will take that ship right now!” He screamed desperately, having become less inspiring since he lost his hat. The Captain truly had nothing left to lose as he shouted, “give them a volley men!” To what was left of his crew.  

 

“We are within range Captain!” The Bessan in the Nest shouted.

The Captain of the Merciful turned to the Jeshan on the port side of the ship, “do it!”

 

The Jeshan used his power to whip the Stream in his hand across the surface of the water like a white hot rope of raw energy which sizzled and hissed as it raced towards the pirate ship. The Stream collided with the hull, which disemboweled the ship in a ferocious blast that sent splintered wood fragments flying out in all directions. Water rapidly poured into the gaping chasm amidships and the pirate ship sank violently, folding into two sections.  Archers on the rapidly listing stern deck continued to fire on the Merciful, but soon fell into the sea along with the flotsam, unable to hold on. Within a matter of moments, the pirate vessel had vanished beneath the surface of the Trader’s Bay.

 

The Merciful itself listed heavily as the stern of the ship sank. The Jeshan worked quickly to mend the broken hull and repair the wood so the Merciful no longer took on water. They were disabled for the foreseeable future and it was going to take them many hours to empty the lower sections of the ship. They would have no rudder as they limped to port in Teayl because that was something even a Shifter could not repair at sea.

 

The Merciful rounded up the survivors who were swimming in the water where the pirate ship went down and shackled them below decks in the bow to be taken back to the port. They did not locate the pirate Shifter once the ship had sunk, but the Captain was confident the danger was over.  “All hands stand down,” he shouted, marveling at the fine hat his men had given him that they pulled out of the wreckage. “We sail for Teayl where these criminals will be brought to justice. You all performed admirably today. We are going to be rotating in new duties this afternoon until we empty the hold of seawater. Let’s work together and get ourselves ready to sail as soon as possible.”

 

The Jeshan used what was left of his stamina just to hold onto the Stream as his duty relief came in to take over and the crew of the ship started to form a line to pass buckets. He handed the Stream vein to the second Jeshan, who would assist in the removal of the water from the hold as well. The Bessan in the Crow’s Nest was also relieved of duty and would need to rest before he could render his Shifting again.  

As they came back to their quarters, the Jeshan looked out of his cabin window at the sun now climbing high into the sky and the midday hour nearly upon them. Just another day on the Trader’s Bay. He thought to himself.

The Trail

On Monday when ********* and I went for a walk on the paved trail, we went farther than I had gone before. Today, I resolved to find out where it goes. Turns out to be pretty fucking cool:

 

 

And it deposited me back on El Camino just east of Cathedral Oaks.

 

Good trip, and I feel invigorated after. Now I’m going to eat some yummy foods and relax for a little while. I have been playing the last few days over in my head, looking at myself, at ****, trying to understand what I can do to stabilize the boat. We will communicate soon and I know she will help me understand what I did and how I can avoid doing that in the future, or whatever the circumstance may be. I’d like to take her on this walk someday, and finish the loop and continue the conversation we started almost a week ago.

Last Weekend to Now

Since deciding I would strike a 10,000 step minimum everyday on Friday last week, I’ve dropped 7.8 lbs. I believe this is mostly just stored water, but still, it’s nice to see the scale go down by a pound or two every few days. The secret is much more exercise than calorie intake. I don’t eat very much at all, and work my ass off whenever possible. My goal is to hammer the shit out of all my stored fat when I’m anaerobic, which will become more efficient as my cardiovascular system revs up. I do love to press my foot to the metaphorical pedal when it comes to step related stuff. Back when I was competing with my cousin we were above 25,000 a day for 5 straight days. That was fucking awesome. I got down to 189lbs at that low (still had my lithium belly), and I’d like to go much lower than that. Seeing the pounds coming off is great motivation to keep pushing even if it is hard.

This morning I took the long way home, around the other side of the canal. I have a few places I’ve named out there: Distant Outpost, Sleepy Spot, Near Outpost. Sleepy spot was destroyed yesterday I imagine in the fierce winds that raged all afternoon. I found the bed like 400 miles away in the field. Bummer. Next time I walk that way I’ll take some pictures of these things, as totally unremarkable as they are. This is how I relate to my environment: as things become familiar, they are assigned a new identification that blends better with my reality filter. I mix things up. It’s not a homeless camp or a industrialized pipe opening. Those names suck balls ass.

I’m feeling pretty good about the days ahead. Hopefully I get some more time to loiter around the NAMI office and look useful and or cute. Ish. I also am going to poke about the IYOV program I mentioned earlier. I have such a remarkable story to tell, and one that could inspire a ot of people who may feel like they are being crushed under their illness. I hope I can bring that big jolt of hope, confidence or something useful to them. Looking good blog.

 

 

Bright and Early

I got up to go pee and couldn’t go back to sleep. There were a barrage of inner-mental distractions as soon as I regained consciousness which I will need to clarify at some point down the road on the secret black curtain blog that none of you know about. Anyway, I’m starting my morning routine of waking up toad frog ass early in the morning and going fishing. I’m will be walking over there about a quarter after five and spend an hour or so on the water, then walk the .85 or .9 miles back. All before 7 am too.

I’ve really changed my Chapter 2 playlist to pretty much strictly contain songs I can sing, or lip sync with astonishing accuracy and pizazz. This is all part of the good. I’m feeling like I have my performing arts fire lit a little bit. This is fabulous timing since I’m interested in being a part of the In Your Own Voice program with NAMI (almost entirely public speaking).

I have also come up with a new and exciting way to torment my parents under the guise of being thoughtful. I came across a pad of sticky notes and my immediate thoughts were how I could abuse the medium to do much more than the meager Post-It was ever thought to be capable. This morning is a prime example of this newfound philosophical approach: I fed the cat early, while my parents were asleep, which yesterday, resulted in the cat being fed twice (it fooled my mom by being absurdly pathetic and cute). I needed a way to convey to the family that the cat food should be left alone, because the cat was already sated from a predawn feast (and is not a Hobbit, therefore, requires no Second Breakfast). I grabbed a sticky and transcribed the following message, and I’d like to see who’s pop-culture whiskers get a tingle with this one. A correct identification of the reference earns you my awe, and a little crown I made just now out of an unused tissue.

The note read:

“All these worlds are yours except:

CAT FOOD

Attempt no landing there. 
Use them together.
Use them in peace.”

 

I eagerly await some form of response from them, or possibly, likely, a burst of insane laughter. This is only the beginning though blog. I have dozens of these Post-Its. They are soon to be appearing in “seemingly” random places, bearing a message of some relevance in a highly cryptic or possibly indecipherable fashion. I’m not sure yet if this is all going to be part of a larger, comprehensive propaganda campaign or possibly just something that torments with answers that cannot be unpacked from the insane cookie jar they came from. Frankly though, we need all the help we can get, legit or not. WEB’s numbers are sagging in the polls and the fucking midterms are nearly upon us! We have to do something drastic.

 

Weekend… GO!

Score: +3

Well Blog I did end up getting that warmline call I was hoping for, and got some great resources to the person I was helping. I really did feel spiffafied about that. I get it again Monday and hopeful for a trip to the office at the same time too.

I felt I did a pretty good job going through my feelings and reactions to recent social changes. Some form of reassurance and anticipation of prolonged discussion presents the possibility for progress. Friendships are built on the foundations of good communication, and at least once the proverbial dust settles, I think there will be a clearer discourse ahead.

As a result of the ongoing discussion today, I feel pretty well-disassembled at this point in the evening. I’m hoping not to barf, and that seems to be going well so far. I’m going over to my sister’s place for Mothers day which should be a fun. I’m still holding true to my persistent fishing goals, regardless of repeated failures. Moo and I are also going to locate the nearest Lapidary Club or shop and get back to making cabs and polishing some of our really nice stones from recent trips. There is also talk of getting the tumblers going again in the garage, now that we have a shelf. EXCITING.

I keep hoping to have ************ to talk to, but I’m still in the dark about what is happening. I don’t think I offended her, maybe triggered something. I’m low in the information department. As I have stated before, I’m a communicator by nature now, and a lot of good work gets done when people start talking/sharing. I have been given hope that there may be some of that later on down the road, so I’ll be patient waiting until that time. I’m not in a hurry, and I certainly don’t want **** to feel rushed or whatever if she’s hurting over something I did. Either way, I hope the two of us get a chance to talk and work things out. Friendships are rare with people so unique and magnetic. Hopes Blog, hopes.

I hope everybody has a good weekend. I’m looking forward to an early start tomorrow, and some peace and quiet at my little fishing spot.

Grasslands Drive

I am truly fortunate to live in this place. Beautiful environment, gated, safe, fishing spots abound, easy handicapped access and great, inviting staff. This place was a score, needless to say. I would be content still living in this complex if I had my own 1BR somewhere within it. The venue could not be more beautiful. I am very lucky to be here and living to catapult myself forward.

Bassholes

I’m deep with stubbornness, determination and grit. These fish have lived their cushy little lives in this obscenely foul trench for long enough. Now they are dealing with a REAL foe. An enemy of incalculable persistence.

Here’s the plan:

Lucky gold/silver 1oz spinnerbait all day all the time until their willpower crumbles.

Oh, so you think that’s funny do you? I’m telling you, as an angler, I have a strategy. There are two things that determine whether or not you are going to catch a fish with an artificial lure:

A) You can deceive the fish into thinking whatever you have is food and food worth pursuing and eating at that (this takes actual skill and psychic powers)

or

B) Irritate the fish into destroying your annoying lure with its mouth (any buffoon can do this, if determined)

 

It doesn’t have to want to eat my spinnerbait, it just has to be tired enough of either seeing it or hearing it to give it reason to attack. Especially since Bass will be spawning, and big mama Bass will be feverishly protecting her eggs.

 

Not such a terrible plan after all? Right. I know at this point the lot of you have your doubts. I have been at it for multiple days with nigh a sniff of interest. You all have good reason to also think I’m destined for failure. One thing you may not know about me, is that I can be pretty annoying when I want to be, and tomorrow, I’m feeling rather keen to annoy some Bass, and not just for a few minutes either. So Blog, I’m resolved to punish these stubborn fishes with my super shiny and ultra noisy bait until some member of fishy trench society takes umbrage.

One of these days blog, there will be a picture up here of me with my thumb on a big fat Bass lip. Then we’ll see who’s laughing then, Chubs.

Singing

For the last few days, I have been going out of my way to sing in my room to some of my favorite music. The Chapter 2 playlist I made a while ago was just for that purpose, to sing back to back songs and rock out all afternoon in my smelly box/domicile. I’m going from “For Whom The Bell Tolls” to “No One In The World” on the next track (and pulling it off [maybe not in the same octave, mind you]). Needless to say, those two songs are sung pretty differently from the other. I had “All My Loving” come on the random shuffle and that tugged on me a bit. I like that though, even if it hurts a little. Remembering beautiful things will be positive for me, always, because my framing of the future doesn’t carry the burden of old pain. We have a choice, and choosing to remember the aspect of it so I can be happy is my choice.

My arsenal of known lyrics has become pretty extensive too, not only do I have the sound of the voices down, but I’m a full-body performer. My instrument of choice is the air-guitar, but you will catch me behind he air-drums or the air-bass depending on the occasion. I have even been known to do an air flute on certain Jethro Tull tracks. Damn, I’m impressive. Haha.

On the MH side of this, I know when I’m finally in a good place when I’m singing. In the past, it has been one of the ultimate healthy expressions of happiness and confidence. Really since we moved up here I’ve been on the path but it has been increasing lately (especially since I started singing listening to music on my walks). I was singing back when I moved in to my place on Mt. Helix. Man, I was really happy then too. I was singing all afternoon waiting for Will to get off work so we could play HotS together. We used to talk politics all evening too, and man, if we thought it was bad THEN, take a look at the shit-pizza now! Good times.

Move forward with a song either on your lips, or in your heart. Wherever we can make the most beautiful music is where we belong.

 

1,600 Miles

Since I started February 22nd 2016, I have walked the entire length of the Great Barrier Reef (1,600+ miles). Thanks for the helpful little thingie FitBit, that was a happy in my email today. It also got me thinking about how much better I’ve felt lately because of the significantly increased walking on a daily basis. I walk 2 miles to fishing spot and back every morning, not to mention all the pacing around I’m usually doing.

I had a good talk with my parents about their need to be more effective communicators with me, because they are all kinds of dysfunctional on their own, and I refuse to be party to such treatment. I have been trying to instill good communication skills, especially for my dad, and today was a breakthrough of sorts. They agreed to stop “kid gloving” me and treat me like an adult who is not about to explode into a ball of all-consuming fire. Also, They agreed to treat my like a third adult in the house, a roommate even, rather than the freeloader son I actually am.

We all agreed to be more open about our feelings and bring things up to each other and avoid anyone feeling not respected and not talked to about important issues.

That was good. It felt good being the PSS for my parents, or a P/FSS? Either way, I’m effective. Speaking of communication, I did hear back from * and there is clearly some wheel-turning or reaction processing going on, which I am not sure how I set off, but deeply regret if it has led to hurt, pain or extra poop in the face. She says she wants to talk later, and that she has a lot to think about. I’m hoping she finds some peace/solace this weekend as she has been looking forward to it all week, and that she finds the clarity of thought she seeks.

I checked the warmline at 8, and no one. This happened last Monday too, and I was grr about that. WHY I NO HELP U 2 DAY? my cat puppet in my head says. Patience, cat puppet, someone will call. I’ll be in at 10, 12 and 2 for my patrol. So long for now bloggytime!

#1,404

Howdy there Blog. Today I’m manning the warmline for NAMI Sacramento, and Monday (my regular day) as well. This picture represents the seed of my meager beginnings. I have no desk, only a bed, binder and photocopied organization, group and education programs to guide me to success. I also have my PSS skills which have come in handy on a few of the calls I’ve already handled. I feel proud of the job I did preparing resources for days like today, and I have been fantastic in my encounters with people in need so far.

Don’t mock my chicken scratch. Handwriting = useless method of communication.

The title of this post helps to summarize my resolution, because: it’s just another post. One of thousands. It is a habit I engage in daily, and there is no deviation from that pattern, ongoing since 2012. Really, #1,404 grounds me, because isn’t it also true that life is divided up into tiny moments where we either succeed or fail? Some of my posts from the past are just fucking flat-out bat-shit nuts. Others, sound, reasonable and founded in logic. But they by themselves do not define the whole, they simply become part of a massive accumulation and the individuality of their sharpness is resolved by an overwhelming quantity of others that do not reflect the same acute nature. So even though things get momentarily perturbed at times, we still sail on, driving the ship ever towards the unknown horizon. Sometimes there is a storm that tosses us around, and sometimes the wind is with us and we break the swell hard and fast, driving that hull flush towards the setting sun, the spray of the sea clinging to my face.

Today has been about me sinking my feet into the dirt and staring hard at what lies ahead. The future may be divided into agonizing little increments, but they are just more days, more numbers more tally marks towards the moment when I will become who I desire to be. Though, the control of my destiny is still not yet mine to take, I do feel the anxiety/excitement of the impending moment when I have both hands on the wheel again, and we are ready for sail on all-ahead flank!

BLAMO!

This mornings fishing trip really brought it all home:

Regardless of circumstance or event, there I a pervading joy inside me that embodies my drive towards the future and I really felt that today when I was on my walk. Then, I was fishing just as the sun came up, listening to great music. Man, I thought, I am so fortunate. I have been given so much, and made a life for myself that is one that I can feel proud of.

I’m reconciled, and doing great reflecting on stability. Plus, I find the last few days have really showed off just how introspective I can be. I have had a lot to think about and churn over.

It just sort of light-bulbed for me this morning. I’m lucky to be where I am, and so respectful and humble. I don’t boast, or flaunt. I live, outwardly, proudly, and with good intent in my heart.

Epiphany blog!

There is so much untapped, unacknowledged beauty in the world. I want to go running around smelling all the flowers in the garden. It is a jubilant time to be alive, poised on the precipice, about to go screaming through the air towards destiny. There is a wide open door, and I’m running through it.

New Paint

Hello Blog. I’m pretty happy about today already. I didn’t wake up painfully early which is a big step in the right direction. I’ve been trying to normalize my sleep patterns and today marks a success in that struggle. Plus, it is warmline for me, which I am also excited about. I’ve got Friday – Monday covered like a baaaws.

I don’t know what to think about ***. I’m not going anywhere I guess, but I’m a communicator, and silence is pretty tough on me. I’m not feeling optimistic anymore. I thought we were going to be able to talk to each other about our issues, which is not possible if I am exiled. Since I’ve had zero communications beyond one text to let me know she needed space, I have no idea whether I’m waiting to be cut loose or some alternative where there is a future.

I’ve reconciled my views on the ***** front and I’m moving on. I’m still hopeful I will have a friend, but the window is closing fast on me, and the silence is only deepening.

Well, today I’m back on the water, trying in foolish desperation to catch a fucking fish. My innate stubbornness is pretty keyed in on this challenge. I think that’s why the fish are scared. Oh yes, I can feel their terror. They know. They fear. One day, they will respect!

I’m sure I’ll have more today.

Fluctuational

Score: +2

On days that I’m both not feeling well physically and isolated without much to do, I tend to slide downhill a bit. I’m feeling a lot of sadness because one of my anxiety threads has temporarily won out over the others, convincing me of my having hurt ***** in some deep, traumatic way. I would be beside myself if I had hurt her feelings while I was in a negative space. “What, you go away for 6 years to come back and hurt me again?” If I were her, I’d be outraged. If that anxiety thread is correct, I have fallen victim to the pattern of my past and that is truly something I must reconcile in humility.

Anxiety doesn’t get much investment beyond the realization of its intent, it simply comes to represent what my brain has “determined” is the most likely outcome. Banishment though, seems inevitable and that is a reality I am conscious of and prepared for if true. I am holding back a big bursting dam full of regret, and I hope clarity allows me to either fix the dam and go home, or get out of the way while it collapses. Nothing is known, so I await the arrival of fact to determine how that metaphor will end.

Meanwhile, I have been thinking I might go back and update some of the site pages, especially given that I have a background in Mindfulness since I created my EAP. I feel like this experience here today and the last few days  has really helped me implement a lot of the skills in my toolkit: introspective hesitation, patience, consistency, objectivity, and all the communication techniques my PSS training has taught me.  I KNOW I am already making the right sort of impression on my fellow volunteers and staff at NAMI Sacramento. I really think things are moving along much faster than even I thought. I gave myself two months and at this rate, I’ll give back six weeks by the time the project requirements are met.

I do like to organize. My goals are “projects,” or, finite things that can be achieved. I’m going to update the Biohazard Boy page as well with some updated timetables and new weight goal. I’m headed at this project full-steam ahead. I can also project positive excitement (the other side of the anxiety coin) into the future I’m working for. One day soon, I’ll be moving into my own place, setting up my independent space, and returning to the normalcy of full time work. I’ll be Uncle Erit to my nephew and help that little man reach his potential in an environment that demonstrates the value of love and family.

Each small step I take marks a change towards progress. I know there are going to be days where I do not step forward, or step back even. I know from experience that this is all part of the journey and familiar ground to say the least. My progress is not a straight line, it is a jagged ridge climbing ever higher towards stability, sufficiency and happiness.

I was hoping to have someone truly engaging, funny, admirable and magnetically compelling in my world to share in the joy of the journey forward. I have intended such happiness for my future, and I wish to spread that around to those in my circle. I held out my hand nonetheless, and it’s always going to be there, ready. I still don’t know what future I may have, even if I have a pretty good plan about where I am headed.

Today was hard. I have been pondering my feelings, and expressing them as I am able. I took a step back today, there is no doubt. However, my time stepping back has not been wasted in despair, but spent observing the factors that led to the weight on me being too much for me to move forward.

At my core though, I suffered a great dimming of hope. I felt like I was reminded again of how alone I am, and how circumstance has dealt me a hand I can only bluff with. I don’t think that’s logical or fair, since those feelings are stemming from anxiety and not reality. Despite my desire to declare my emotions illogical, they happen nonetheless.

Hope you guys out there have a great afternoon. I’m warmline boy tomorrow and looking forward to it greatly. Anxiety will fade with neglect, restoring a sense of tranquility.

Trouble Me – 10,000 Maniacs

Trouble me–
Disturb me with all your cares,
And you worries.
Trouble me–
On the days when you feel spent.
 ~
Why let your shoulders bend,
Underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong?
Trouble me.
 ~
Speak to me–
Don’t mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling;
Speak to me–
There’s no telling where it starts or how it ends.
Speak to me–
Why are you building this thick brick wall,
To defend me?
Speak to me–
When your silence is my greatest fear?
 ~
Why let your shoulders bend
Underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong?
Speak to me.
 ~
Let me–
Have a look inside these eyes,
While I’m learning.
Let me–
Please don’t hide them,
Just because of tears.
Let me–
Send you off to sleep with a “There, there, now stop your turning and tossing.”
Let me–
Let me know where the hurt is and how to heal.
 ~
Spare me?
Don’t spare me anything troubling.
 ~
Trouble me–
Disturb me with all your cares and you worries.
Speak to me–
Let our words build a shelter from the storm.
Let me–
And lastly,
Let me know what I can mend.
There’s more, honestly,
Than my sweet friend, you can see.
Trust is what I’m offering…
If you trouble me.

Other Thoughts

Good prematurely early morning Blog.

As I rise to face the new day, I am ruminating on a few things:

  1. I forgot to mention I believe I would now be considered the “top volunteer” at NAMI Sacramento and just got handed this Friday’s warmline duty. When Lynn said to me “we thought of you first,” I really felt good. I knew I was making an impact, and spreading the word about how hard I work and also that I am funny. And maybe kinda cute?
  2. I haven’t heard substantively from **** since my trauma trigger of Tuesday night. She asked for space, which I have respected. The wheels of anxiety would like to get all fired up on speculating, but I don’t indulge them. In this new era of self-awareness, moments like this are broken down into components: part of it is sadness, fear, but then there is hope, promise, and positively projected outcomes. Even if one or the other is proved to be false, their contrast prevents one from dominating over the other. So I sit here looking at these two anxious reactions, neither being appropriate, and am now moving forward with my day.
  3. I am not going fishing this morning. My stomach has been feeling less than satisfactory for a day now, and I believe Moo is to blame somehow. She was fine after a couple of days and I project the same for myself, or less. My body tends to destroy outside invaders with a sadistic glee. Sadly, this means the fish will get to celebrate their independence for yet another day… for now.

In general, I find my attitude is good, but my prospects for the day are dim. I must come up with something proactive while the physical part regenerates or becomes stable. I miss not having **** to talk to. It sure did feel good those three days when we were communicating often. It was like old times, in a way, but free of the doubt and speculation. It felt like we had gone to school together as kids, then come together as adults once more at some point down the road. It’s odd, but good, and I really do notice suddenly being deprived of it.

I keep having image filled dreams that I can remember bits and pieces of in the night, but by the morning all I can remember is that I did have a dream about something. It’s very strange, but also nice since the weed for the longest time had suppressed that memory retention. I look on my FitBit and see I’m getting oodles of REM sleep. Science says I’m dreaming, but what about…?

6:27 pm

Taught–

Like burdened strings,

Holding the line to clarity,

Ruminating on many doors,

Long hallways,

Fading to dark.

Piled like ash,

Scraping out for relevance.

While clandestinely guided,

Honing on a fate,

Hoping in peace–

Perhaps already lost.

A spiraling state–

Blurred in possibilities,

Shattered woes–

Held apart by joy.

Coming back–

Walking in the door,

Home has always been.

In Conclusion

Score: +3.5

Hello for the 6th or something time today. Wow was my afternoon great blog! I got to go into the temporary office and schmooze with the NAMI folks. I saw my boss from the NAMI Walk and she has things for me to do in the near future, PLUS there are also more things for me from the ED as well. Either way blog, this was a big step forward in increasing my workload. I’d like to be somewhere around 20 hours a week to start, until my status becomes entrenched. The idea would be to take on enough responsibility to be invaluable, then impress the hell out of them with how I handle that. I think my eagerness and energy to assist have been received with open arms.

I am feeling bostered with confidence, and really excited about some of the new projects they are going to have me working on in the coming days for NAMI. This is my foot well in the door and my my knee is in there now. I’m becoming a part of my mental health community, and I know this is where I belong.

I didn’t catch a fish today, yeah… but I’m definitely going to keep trying, however fruitlessly. I insist on doing things my way, until that utterly fails in all aspects, in which case I might resort to magic, as I have written on earlier today.

I did have a pretty remarkable bounce from that low point last night. I felt good about how I managed to sift through that event and attach meaning after. ********** was also great about giving me a bubble for a while, allowing me to process and have the reset button pushed by sleep. Hopefully my mental illness and symptoms of havent been a deterrent to our friendship… but rather, a great opportunity to test how we handle such things, learn and step forward. I do like walking forward. I like it more when I’m not alone.

Well blog, that’s probably it for me today. I’m back in my jams and about to light one up, Take care!

Schedule Change

Typically I don’t do well with sudden schedule changes, but today I’m proud of myself. My boss called me when I had just pulled up to work to come back in five hours. Instead of getting frustrated by a pattern of inconsistency, I embraced this new test of my strength to handle the unexpected and continue moving forward with positive energy. I drove home and I will be driving back in not too long, and I am perfectly fine with that. What I’m doing, the work itself, is the thing I long for. The opportunity to help move Nami’s goals forward and show them who I am. I have such a fantastic story, with a happy little ending as well! I can’t want to start sharing that saga in the In My Own Voice program, visiting schools and helping spread awareness about mental illness. Also, that life is still possible with it.

Well, I’ve felt prolific today, for sure. I’m going to re-institute my daily Score and have it on one post designated as a “check-in.” I feel like I should be extra careful considering the results of tromping into the past last night. I need to be prepared to deal with a very intense level of potential emotional upheaval, and my score will help maintain an average, alert to trends, and offer keen, involved introspection on a daily basis. This was something I was doing, and had done for years until early last year. I believe this should have been done back before I moved, because then I might have noticed the dip I had fallen into… or been able to correct sooner than I did. Either way, the score is going to help. End of day check-ins are an important tool in keeping track of the Westin brain machine thingy doo-dad.

So I’m going back in not too long, and he (my boss) has things lined up for me down the road as well. I’m doing it! I’m with NAMI Sacramento just like I wanted to be before we all moved. I’m with them and rising in the ranks, also just as I had hoped. Man, when you say you’re going to do something fucking hard, and they you go right out there and do it. Holy shit Blogosphere, that’s a great feeling. HOW ABOUT THAT? YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT. So probably one more at the end of the day going over as a summary and a post about how things went down. Man, I just wish I was working more. I reached out to NAMI Yolo, since they’re like right here.

I’m going to ask a ****** about the ************************** this week. I have a ***** ******** number to call from my resource book. I want to know what the success rate looks like, what is required to succeed, what makes a good argument, essentially, the basics for application. I think that is a good avenue to explore if it is possible and doesn’t fuck up anything else. Either way, this is a way I can contribute some knowledge to the miasma of thoughts on ****** and her situation. Sorry for the redactions, it’s really not appropriate for me to be at all specific, but I nevertheless wanted to demonstrate that I was not a inert information receptacle.

 

Have a great day Blog, I’ll be back this evening.

 

 

 

Reveal

Sliver-possible light,

Through narrow glimpses,

Keyhole-looking,

Baited breath-stealing–

Walker of tiptoe mysteries.

Traces in the dust,

Fathomed through pages,

Implored for more–

But left vacant at the gate.

A mouthful of yearning,

Eclipsed by walls–

Left agape at the possibilities,

Watching the light disappear.

A Curse Upon Fishes!

I googled “A curse for fishes,” and surprisingly, there is nothing of substance. What… there isn’t 1 fucking witch or shaman who fishes? If I had magical powers, I’d be helping my fellow anglers! Priority numero uno.

So please, internet, if you know of a curse, or have a list of reagents for said curse, send me an email.

You might be wondering why I have “stooped” to invoking the dark powers in order to catch a fish. I view magic as a grey area as far as it applies to being a fishing technique. It’s pretty much still a skill thing, so it’s kinda okay. You can’t be just some Schmendrick and have a go at the fish curse. It takes talent, mastery and alertness to be a successful angler, and some sort of discipline to wield the dark powers as well (I imagine).

HOWEVER.

I am being incessantly berated about not using live bait or the infamous “cheese ball” to procure a fish faster I have also been told by anglers in the area using, and seen the effectiveness of, live bait. I’m telling you blog, just one time, right here right now. There is only one true angling law:

Saltwater = anything goes because fish is meat

Freshwater = ONLY ARTIFICIAL LURES, FISH ARE (almost always) SPORT NOT FOOD

Any Mooper can get on a boat, go out to the islands with a bucket of anchovies and catch dinner. A TRUE GOD LOVING JESUS GUY angler only needs his wits, arms, ears and eyes. It’s my job to deceive the fish, not tempt it beyond resistance with something it normally eats anyway or is too hopelessly tempted by to be irresistible. Boo. No blog, the SPORT is the act of trickery, so you can see how there is little or no skill involved in cheese ball.

 

I’m always making things harder then they have to be… but GOD DAMN does it feel good to earn that fight once you trick some poor fish into thinking that little scrap of plastic was edible. Muahaha.

So today I’m going back out with my last ditch technique for catching a Bass. When I come back, I’ll be expecting one of the 800+ of you could come up with some fucking spell or seance I can do to improve my odds. I’m willing to harvest odd ingredients for a curse if need be. Anyway, here goes nothing!

 

Affirmations

Today is going to be a day in which I take a positive step forward.

I am volunteering, and giving my time to a cause deeply connected with my success as a person with mental illness.

I am happy, living in a safe environment with people I love.

I am cared for, nourished and kept track of by people who love me and are concerned for my well being.

I am educated, savvy, spontaneous, introspective, thoughtful, original and quite uniquely humorous, all of which help define who I am as a person.

I have the confidence in my heart of knowing my intentions are pure, that I would break nor moral or judicial law to satisfy some personal need or impulsive desire.

I am immensely proud of them man I am now, and looking forward to becoming even more expansively fantastic as I ensnare myself in the mental health spiderweb of resources (Hmm, On second glance, I guess in this metaphor I’m going to get eaten by a spider… so maybe I should try something a little less horrible next time I dip the ladle in the “original ideas” bucket).

I am creative, and finally realizing a personal dream to fully expand and document my fiction epistolary narrative and complete my first novel.

I have taken hard blows in life, some nearly fatal, bur always come back to rise up and try to have a life again.

I will not give up on my life, I will shape it into something I can be proud of, and something that brings me close to worth and meaning

I believe I have many things to learn still, and many teachers I have yet to meet

My doors and windows are open, and all are invited to come over.

The world is a beautiful place in its moments, and I am glad to be here in it.

Morning

Dewed limbs leafily,

Kissed in golds–

And radiant green pools,

Thumped pops on drum logs–

Tiny feet pitter-patter,

Joyous at the dawn.

Fringes curled,

Crisped–

Dried for the day ahead–

And turned west in the breeze.

whispered, dusty music–

Of summer’s song.

Triggers

**** was great handling my emotions last night. I want expecting to be triggered like that and she dealt with it very well. It’s reassuring.

I’ve had some time to think, and I am confident that being ******** Friend is something I want. Thinking down the road is fruitless. The real point is based on now, and what life is like here in these moments. We have precious little time in this life. Everyone is special and worth paying attention to. In my new reality, love and trust are the currency.

Processing is normal. Healthy. It does take energy to deal with trauma.

I’m working today at the new office which is exciting. Opportunities await.

Life goes on. Surround oneself with positive energy, and move out ahead of the storm clouds.

Smashed

Dear blog, tonight I am in the midst of a pretty serious down spiral. **** sent me Eminem’s Love The Way You Lie, which sharply parallels our prior relationship. It has rendered me to ruin, and broken my optimism entirely. I cried then and I sob know, feeling death inside me again. A part that used to love her, a memory of when it did, how it all came apart and is gone forever. The shattered night our relationship died. I’m flooded with visceral trauma like it is all happening right here. I’m reliving one of the greatest mistakes of my life. Over and over.

Deep in a well of pain, I regret to abandonment. She’s better off without me. I’m only going to interfere. I’m useless. I’m trouble. I’m going to create even more regret one way or another.

The passage of time will refresh the imbalance, but clearly there is emotional volatility going on. I need to be mindful of that. A lot of powerful memories lie buried in the past, and they are just as real to me now as when they happened. ******* had some intent to affect me with the music, which is not very nice. She has motivation to show me what I missed out on I suppose, as if I can’t see plainly enough.

Where does this road go? Should I walk down it?

What is this feeling?

**UPDATED** 5/18 – Chapter 2.5?

A new album inspired by recent events. **UPDATE** There have been some uncanny harmonies I need to include, so the playlist has been adjusted.

  1. Hotel California – Eagles
  2. Walk Away – Joe Walsh
  3. For Whom The Bell Tolls – Metallica
  4. Don’t You Know What The Night Can Do? – Steve Winwood
  5. If I Can’t Have You – Yvonne Elliman
  6. No One In The World – Anita Baker
  7. Secret Separation – The Fixx
  8. Roam – The B-52’s
  9. A Little Respect – Erasure
  10. Middle Of The Road – The Pretenders
  11. No One Like You – Scorpions
  12. We Built This City – Starship
  13. What You Need – INXS
  14. Straight To My Heart – Sting
  15. Trouble Me – 10,000 Maniacs
  16. Beautiful – Gordon Lightfoot
  17. Right Down The Line – Gerry Rafferty