Monthly Archives: September 2018

Happy Chunks

by in Mental Illness, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Hello again Blogomites.

One of the most helpful aspects of my recovery has been participation in community outreach events on behalf of NAMI. The rejuvenating properties of inspired interaction have vast and resounding impacts on my world view And attitude. No better way to get a gauge of individuals than to talk to them earnestly, in my thinking. You’d be surprised how far that energy goes, especially to the vulnerable, the uninformed, and the otherwise course-less.

I find a source of nourishment through my community involvement, and I have a passion for it which is obvious on first glance. I see how it is labor for some, and not met with my level of energizement by most other table-hosts. From within my own perspective, this is what I know I need to be doing.

I profess nothing, but hope to remind that hope and joy are to be found in a variety of places, and I’d say finding them where they were not expected is a great thing as well.

This has been one area where there is improvement. It is not comprehensive as there is no such circumstance which universally applies anything. The best fit for happy is one that snaps in where it was needed.

First or Middle?

by in Mental Illness, Rant, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

I’ve had two names most of my life (um, duh?). My family used my middle name as a first name from the earliest moments, which differs from how most of the rest of the world does things. My creators were quite determined to make sure I had a name that couldn’t be shortened or rhymed with anything profane… so there we go with how that got started.

Early on, I began to run into conflict with the real world: schools, doctors, government and myriad other agencies, as they should, called me by my first name. This was a revelation, and required remedy of some form. Initially, I hassled with correcting everyone all the time, which I tired of doing around my teens.

It was at that point I just started answering to either my first or my middle name as though they were of equal concern. Given, the context and location would determine which of the names I would be listening for. This decision to assign environment to name created an unintentional rift of persona that continues (in some form) to this day. I wish to draw attention to this internal rift, because of the transformative significance an unlikely event can trigger.

Drawing the distinction between the first and middle name “personas” will illuminate the nature of my social mechanisms:

The first persona, let’s call him W, is the active societal participant. He works hard, aims high, holds others accountable if needed and rises up from within to take on more and more. He can be an ass, authoritative, demanding, but doing so not out of irrelevance or malfeasance, but to advance something positive. He is bipartisan, but driven to achieve in all avenues offered. He doesn’t joke all that much and burns the midnight oil when needed. He is well-spoken, articulate and very persistent. The sum of all my professional interactions, effectively, along with a dose of that competitive aggressiveness that was necessary as an outer carapace.

The other persona, E, is quite different. He’s a gamer, a stoner, craft beer enthusiast, and a witty adversary with a dagger sharpened by sarcasm. He listens, loves and sings. He is the “play hard” half of the dichotomy, but a much more developed person overall. E has friends, where W has none. E enjoys all sorts of things, going outdoors, experimenting with new activities, enjoying recreation… the list goes on.

W is concerned with having the moral pride of knowing he did his best, tried hard, didn’t quit, persevered and got back to bed time in one piece. These two seem fundamentally divided in several ways, but each serving a purpose in the mechanism I developed to survive in the real world.

Albeit, having the dichotomy within is not a good thing, and it did have a big part to play in my last relapse. However, something interesting happened when I moved up here from SD. The rubble of W looked like it was headed for a long rebuilding process after the destructive downfall, but, an unknown confusion led to a dramatic and unexpected change of world view.

I needed to start volunteering, so I reached out to the NAMI affiliate and bugged them to let me help. Once I got in with NAMI, the Executive Director and exchanged a few emails and agreed to meet for a table event on Sacramento City College’s campus. When I reached out to shake his hand, he addressed E, not W. I was very much expecting W to be the go-to guy here in the professional role, but instead, E walked in and took a seat at the helm. It was a moment that I found no immediate significance in at the time, but looking back over the last 6 months, I can see something remarkable has been happening.

It is clear to me that E is in W’s role for good, emulating W’s attributes as the innovator, the outward facing customer support geared guy, the do-gooder, go-getter. He still takes on responsibility, and comes through consistently, is punctual, determined and always looking to advance the cause forward. Yet, there is something outwardly-radiating that is not like W at all, but quite distinctively E. The playful banter with coworkers, sharp wit, steely sarcasm and ample laughter are all a part of regular business with this bunch. There are quips, smackdowns and mic drops everywhere, and this is the playground of E for certain. E is fun, and peculiar, and bizarre at times, but quite distinctive as part of the core of the person behind the persona.

Perspective helps me see E unpacking slowly, probing, validating, becoming familiar, but still with many things withdrawn in security as W would to protect himself. There has been an amalgamation of the two worlds I had created long ago, and the blending of them has contributed to the current healthy time in my life. Maybe there are more ways that the personas will draw themselves apart, as circumstances change, but really, having E take the lead has been the greatest oddity of my entire transition up here. I am very, very glad I decided to me E and not W with this crew, because I’ve never been happier to do something for someone.

Combine : Collide

by in Mental Illness, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Circumstance accelerated–

Separately decorated rooms,

Their unions indelicate as colliding trains–

Smashed.

Strewn about empty vessels & toppled statuettes,

Angrily flashing lights abound–

Combining colored blotches,

Finding a door hidden in the wall.

—

Yearning and curious posturing,

Catastrophic yet creative–

Electric when touched,

Running between tall shadows,

Impaled by ruin–

Judged by amalgamation.

Sliding by rust-hooked fragments–

Skewered with twisted iron brambles,

Blood-stained and snarled gloves.

—

Spiderwebbed glass,

Aching unknowns–

Stresses of anxiety-driven thoughts,

Smearing like palm-clammy hands,

Begging to be inside.

Unable to breathe–

The rooms combining–

Colliding.

Dear Me, March 2nd, 2014

by in Creative Writing, Mental Illness, Rant, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Hey Buddy,

I know about the thoughts and reservations that you have been having lately… which now seem to be coming to a peak moment. You have, to this point, failed to truly respond to any of those nagging doubts and have led your current relationship down a road it will not survive. This is the primary reason why I am here in this non-existent moment of comparative fiction.

In your neglect of your own mental health, you have greatly contributed to the soon-to-be demise of your relationship as well as hurt any chance you have at a normal life going forward for some time. You are headed to an explosion of epic proportions, tomorrow as a matter of fact, and you will try to take your own life. She will leave you, the same night you are hospitalized in fact; she will sleep with another man and never come back. I’m here not to change things, clearly, but to offer you a glimpse at the world that will come to be as you progress further from the smoldering ruin your life is about to become. That lesson will show you the importance of having a complete self and help you push forward in the world with your feet in the real world’s mud.

First, I want to say that I am aching in my recollection of the hurt you are going to feel, and most of it will be incredibly painful since it was self-inflicted. Right now, you have been compensating for your downfall with substances, food, cigarettes, just about anything you can get your hands on to take you away from the reality you are in. You haven’t dealt with anything; it has all been bottled and fermented into resentment. You never tried to talk to her the way you would now, and maybe even if you had, she wouldn’t understand. You refused to address the issues up-front or with any level of self-admission, and therefore, you are going to suffer a calamity as your most precious relationship breaks apart forever. The hurt that this event brings will not be resolved for more than 4 years, continuing to this very day as a matter of fact. You loved her in this intense, abstract, not functional way, and you neglected your responsibilities in your relationship which contributed to its destruction. It will take you many years to fully understand and adapt beyond this moment. She had a part to play in this mind you, but there is nothing to gain from summarizing things that are outside of the self, as they can’t be changed.

I am so sorry. You are going to feel broken for a long time after tomorrow night. You will miss her in ways you never knew were there before, and feel her absence deep inside the core of the most vulnerable self. You will understand how she was neglected. She was the person you loved the most so far in your life, and her loss with your assistance is something you will not be able to move past. In a subconscious/telepathic, you are still linked to her, as though some invisible tether connects you despite the distance, and hatred lodged between, and that twitching bait has incited more trauma, more pain…

This upcoming disaster happened because you needed to learn about the value of self-love. I had to acquire this knowledge painfully, humbly, but earnestly. I can’t undo things that happened, and I will never erase the place inside me that still belongs to her… but I can learn. I can adapt and grow.

If it is anything for you now, know that because of this event, you will learn that your mental illness is the thing you need to be most concerned about in your life. You will find a way to help yourself defend against the same issues you have had in the past, and fallen victim to. The truth of this journey is the ability to appreciate who you are without restraint. Pride and acts that demonstrate a morally honest compassion for things that are “right” in terms of common sense are going to be the evidence you use to build up proof through action.

Your love has been sought from without in the past; filling you up with a feeling of worth that is artificial, untrue and not properly earned. It is similar to presenting the one you desire most with an empty vessel and expecting her to be excited to fill it. Without the lesson of the soon-to-be failure, you might never have known how to find who you were and live that life proudly into the future. Speaking for myself, there has been no greater remedy to the onset of depression than the long road of positive steps that have led me to this moment. I know you, past me, are not there yet, but you will be headed out of the deep hole in not too long. My echoing thought for you is to tolerate this great sadness with an idea that it will not last indefinitely, but must be respected properly. Let it sink deep into you and know it. You will feel the lowest moment of your life and this is part of the understanding that you will gain.

The realization of pain will help you avoid situations like that in the future, while also garnering you the most success and self-worth you will know, at least, thus far. Hurt, regret, sadness and anguish are a part of how we learn. I remember the agony, and I know some things not to do to avoid feeling it again. I do not wish to fall into the same ancestral rut that contains the bones of all the other me versions before? I refuse.

I am there to help you, but only to provide you with a look farther down the road. There is always the next day as long as you are alive, and I know you will continue to do something with the existence you have created. That shape will change depending on who you chose to become, but if pride is the needle that guides your direction, I think things are going to be just fine. You have already done more than you ever have, and this is only the beginning of where your life will go along your new road.

Hold on friend, you will soon be feeling the sun on your face.

Sincerely,

You

Goldendome

by in Mental Illness, Rant, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The sponge is currently on administrative leave until tomorrow morning. We have record of his sponginess being excellent during the time in which it was best to be sponge. Now, however, is no sponge required.

Meeting new people is always a sparky flashy bing bang. I did very well with all of that poof today, in the rapture of hours long NAMI table outreach. My gospel of happily re-uptake inhibited existence was heard by many, quite beyond expectation even, with other underachieving adjectives such as “lots” and “much.” I was impressed by the event turnout, yanked like a wanker from one enjoyable chat to the next, but finally, casually ecstatic to have so many neat interactions. Working with great people, seeing a well intended mission going forward with the friends, while there was revelry, showmanship, vocabulary discussions, handouts… a very event packed day where my cheese-like head is overwhelmed. I am grateful for the sip of rejuvenating fairy jizz which has recharged my total self.

I’m still pretty sure I know what I need to do with my life. Occasionally the congress of doubt throws some shade, but not enough to do much of anything anymore. Facts. Proof. Reality. Boom.

If the truth is realized and accepted within the core of self, the armor will not be breached by pointy outside things. Despite the cruel filibuster of Dubiety McDoubterson, the legislature slogs on. Conduct is where action done in the “now,” being vaulted on the road of bricks built of “then.” The world is not going to pander to my absurdly out-of-touch filter, so why be outraged when life sticks a hot poker up your ass?

I was thinking about all the ways my life is quite special, and how fucking that up is not an option at this point. So much real work I did has become a platform for a successful future (hopefully, unless my eyes are eaten by bees, or my dad turns into a gelatinous amoeba of unusual size[pish, like he isn’t already?], consuming all organic matter nearby).

More devilry to come, I’m sure.

The ERA Equation

by in Article, Rant, Sports Pontifications and tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Fictional Fantasy Baseball – The Studyball Kurmudgeons

Rarely do I freely venture into the land of mathematics, but as that pertains to statistics, one could say there is love, not anger, death and PAIN. I’m not sure my endeavors serves any other purpose other than to fascinate my brain and make it work in a different way to figure out the solution to a problem, but regardless of notoriety, the task is noble. Back in the good ol’ days I was writing equations while manic that Excel couldn’t resolve, because they were written stupidly and abhorrently complex, ah yes, sweet memory… wait, this is a not good memory… however, I was able to do most of what I wanted, but not all. Fortunately I have found a middle ground between epiphany and practicality. The mechanism of my learning has been a logical argument within Microsoft Excel (or Google Sheets): IF/AND.

Excel allows one to look at or through data in a variety of ways, and boy is there a lot of data around Baseball. I take real 7-day MLB sums from players across the league and the results tell me something about how my own scoring configuration might balance, or scale in certain areas, as appropriate. The things that are hard to write equations for are those that modify or scale a result, or have an array of possible outcomes but somehow need to all be accounted for. Building a massive array by entering all the possible outcomes is not practical when dealing in hundreds. Equations need to be sleek, quick and able to return a sensible answer under any circumstances.

My task over the last couple of days was to make a logical equation using AND, IF or both, and try to weight the ERA over a game period like ranking the scoring/yardage surrendered by NFL team defenses. ERA becomes a scaling reward for low totals, and becomes a worthless (or a negative total) after 4. I had a similar equation already written for the NFL spreadsheet but all the values and references had to be changed.

=SUM[this is just the mechanism that will total the result as an integer]

(IF([condition/test],[result if Y],[result if N]

IF(AND[condition/test],[result if Y],(IF(AND[nested IF as negative response triggers second criteria in the next argument while building off the previous argument, as long as AND is present]

My initial equation looked like this:

=SUM(IF(D1=0,””,(IF(D1<.001,[value cell 0],(IF(D1=0,[value cell 1](AND(D1<.99,D1>.001,[value cell 2],(IF(AND(D1<1.99,D1…….. so on and so forth, moving the needle higher as the ranges of ERA are graded as they fall between one of the equations areas. But I was acting like there was a value below zero I had to be worried about, which is a product of using the equation from the NFL Fantasy Scorecard where those values are possible in the net yardage equation. After taking notice of the parameter change, I rewrote the beginning. 

There is a little “housekeeping” to settle up front, taking into account all numbers that COULD BE RENDERED on the spreadsheet. The D1, lets just say is the cell where the manual ERA will be entered on the sheet.

This specific line means, if D1 has no value in it, show nothing (represented by a text quote with no text “”) since zero is an ERA value there should be nothing to render if the cell is empty. 

After the above action, the next is to squarely assign a value to 0, since bridging ranges on it is problematic. The, the lowest value in the first range, mathematically expressed in greater-than less-than form. This can be repeated over and over, laying one on top of the other as the N condition until a result is returned.

The whole equation on the spreadsheet itself looks like this:

 

=SUM(IF(C21=“”,0,(IF(AND(C21=0),Rules!B40,(IF(AND(C21>0,C21<1),Rules!B40,(IF(AND(C21>0.99,C21<2),Rules!B41,(IF(AND(C21>1.99,C21<3),Rules!B42,(IF(AND(C21>2.99,C21<4),Rules!B43,(IF(AND(C21>3.99,C21<5),Rules!B44,(IF(AND(C21>4.99,C21<6),Rules!B45,(IF(C21>5.99,Rules!B46))))))))))))))))))

Those values triggered a result dependent on the integer in the cell, and were located on a separate page within the file:

The parallel between the NFL DEF/ST is undeniable because it is pretty much the same fucking thing. Beautiful how those two very different stats have a parallel in that scale, plus the way that can be whittled until bare at times, much like watching one’s team getting tired in the 4th quarter,defending the lead… this should give something additional for my nonexistent owners to fuss about. I wish there was someone who would fuss.

Making the equation and seeing the result it had on the scorecard was very rewarding, adding a boom-or-bust possibility to the pitcher’s slots on the roster. I like potential, and I like unexpected, crushing agony. Both remind me of how nice normal is.

 

 

Now I have a new scaling toy to play with, but another though I had is that pitchers aren’t the only ones with an ERA these days. Position players are now often used as a bullpen if a game is out of reach for example, and the manager wants to save his relief bullets. This could be hell for your average owner, when suddenly your 2B throws 17 pitches and has 4 ER with zero K, HR allowed and a 9.00 ERA!!

Upgurdge

by in Mental Illness, Rant, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , ,

Some stimuli has led to a jolt within, where new factors were given a rise of prominence. Still the backdrop of self-inflicted undesirability remains as repugnance is accepted. I’m summarizing grossly.

My hypothesis on status remains the same, since my pie slice is already big enough. I do like pie though. Pie. Tasty pie. Flavors.

An exploratory thought under the oncoming tsunami of gurdge. I’m so overflowing with sludge that it gets everywhere, and smells bad. Can the sludge ever be contained?! On our next episode we’ll find out.

To grunk or not to grunk?

Nothing of supple invitation ever seems to become a happy or a friend.

Mud

by in Mental Illness, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Sometimes the dirt stays on; an unwanted passenger that degrades what it congeals upon. I feel this way with my brain: the coatings of splattered muck are easy to diagnose, or render a few good whacks upon them to dislodge.

There is are a series of security clearances and clean rooms preventing immediate action, but not deliberation. Part of me says the past is mud, the other can’t let go of the string the red balloon was tied to. He hasn’t seen the balloon in years but still holding on.

Everyone should try love on for size at some point. I found the whole thing to be an exfoliating activity which has subsequently scraped off my desire to know any more. Trauma has that effect, along with a once prominent self hate. Some things are setting while others are about to rise above the horizon.

What am I doing out here?

I remember sniffy sounds at night.

Radiant, passive, trusting.

Currently snagged in a gooey resentment.

Rejected, discarded, regretted, history.

+

by in Mental Illness, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dear Head,

Your relationship to my brain has always been central to our cooperation, so, I believe you will trust my words (said in earnest, from the heart). I know that the information you are being inundated with right now is some pretty rancid, unrelenting vitriol, however, that is only part of the reality you and I reside in. I am not discounting the relevance of allowing emotional expression, but I do expect a bipartisan effort in forward operations regardless. Everyone can have their say, as long as we can all still function normally (ideally).

Despite the revelatory insurrection, there are several things which can be said, truthfully, definitively:

Eric, you have a magnetic personality, a deadly poignant sense of humor, and a charisma that inspires others.

Despite all the numerous mistakes you have made in your past, you are still out there trying for better (nearly) every single day.

Lastly, you are proven strong through fact, capable and dependable in your aspirations, and your duties are done with love and honor.

Despite a history littered with debilitating landmines, there are still compromises, missteps and occasional mutilations. The future can’t be set in one direction, because it is an amalgamation of myriad recesses, peaks, troughs and all the undulations of a matured life.

Sometimes just a few freely flung words have a significant impact…

The self is a puzzle with pieces that change shape, move on their own or hide somewhere far away, never to become a part of the completed picture.

Blind

by in Creative Writing, Mental Illness, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Smeared streak across glass–

Prune-like pulp chunk,

Blasted splat to barrier.

Vacantly gulping–

Eyeball-seeking,

The other side.

—

Embossed in “la la” afterglow,

A faded twirly skirt no one wears,

In a vacant room–

11th floor–

A light was left on.

Spatula’d off the surface–

Plorped into a dustbin,

Mingling with the glops–

Deposits within firmament.

My Head The Tree

by in Mental Illness, Rant and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I think I’m temperamentally inclined towards observation on a geologic scale, but still momentarily vulnerable or shortsighted in the face of other organisms. It’s an odd comparison to resolve, and the places where they meet are the confluence of contrasts. I tend to think of this place as a rural village with ox-plowed fields and people eating beans. The volatility of places being a magnet for interest, I allege.

I’m starting to develop an appreciation for how far off the deep end of existence I have fallen. Down in the abyssal trench, there are lots of tiny blind crabs eating thin flakes of compressed dolphin poop that fall from above like a shit soaked snow globe. It is a sustainable existence, if not an inglorious one.

FYI: I need to do more metaphors where I’m not eating poop at the end.

I have several meat flies following me. Maybe that’s because I’m carrying a big hunk of rotten flesh in my pocket. I can’t help but sniff and remember back to when in smelled like meat.

Oh meat, you and I could have had it all. This has been the main issue.

Now, much maligned by necessity, my stumbling forward is sure to agitate the Nargles. I’m sure they are up to something, but I’m not concerned enough to google them to find out what they are.

Incubate

by in Mental Illness and tagged , , , , , , , , ,

I had a temporary reset to bolt healing mode, which provided plenty of time to introspectively blame with arbitrary reviled adjectives. Fortunately, many warm splashies and strechimisims helped. There was plenty of soft and fuzz, as there should be. For now, a momentary regeneration into egg-mode. Post mode activities consist of shouting and frantic pamphlet waiving.

I’m doing better along the path, but still looking for fruit or seed for sustenance. The food is not easy to find. You can’t bite a cactus without consequence.

I’m doing fairly well. The fuzz has helped.

Zeep

by in Mental Illness, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

End of old soggy sock smell and start of soft friend in a fuzzed-out place. The moving air and sheet jitters bring a fluttering-wing calmness. Everything weighed to down, and the time of joining is near. So many faces to see and places to sniff.

I don’t complain in my blessings. There is no deterioration if it isn’t wanted. Destruction is not aided in these lands. It is a downward fate to lead with criticism. I also find it meaningless to poof over things not with their weight in frets.

Have rest, when ready. The battery is low, but not for long. The peace of restarting. Shut down. Restart. Present.

The Arc

by in Mental Illness, Rant, Status Updates and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

We all search for meaning as we define its parameters through lived experience. No one else gets to pass idle judgement on that, because it’s strength is the core of the fully expressed self. Many times I have fought to change what cannot be changed, and tasted the grungy floor of down. I see a better way now through adaptation to changing expectation and the fertile joy of life itself.

I am not ungrateful for being chosen to live, but instead, indebted to the arc of humanity, upon which a beautiful future is projected. You, simply put, are a miracle whether you know it or not. There will only ever be one “you” in this world, and the reality as you see it can be something joyous and precious because it is totally unique and infinitely valuable. You, the out there person who is alive, deserve to be heard, contribute and exist. Speak your mind; we all only get one chance.

There is something “otherly” about internal dignity. The body responds, the mind settles and true pride itself radiates outward, like polished armor in the fray against the idle hypocrisy and rampant vitriol of the surroundings. Reasonable expectations keep horizons bright, if not very far away. I feel that existential obligation to have lived a life built on success, and failure as well; to have tasted sweetest love, and foulest resentment, anger, sadness, betrayal and pain. Meaning comes from experience, as the contrast helps us understand the spectrum of feeling.

My echo through the ether will say this man made many mistakes, but he has made this world somewhat better in form or feeling as well. His life was lived, and not squandered. It is an attitude that builds foundations that last, great iron-wrought struts and supporting joists. It is a structure that cannot be blown over, and to tear it down it must be disassembled, piece by piece, in a process that has no beneficial or rational potential and a low probability of occurrence.

Here me encouraging you to find what gives meaning to your life. Whatever it is. It doesn’t matter one bit, as long as you live true to real happiness from within, the things that grow from the core of self-contained wellness are wonderfully tasty fruits, where most other plants starve in dry places of anger, leaving only emaciated husks and ash-dry dust.