Got extra steps and sun time in today since I had been feeling down. I called a psychiatrist and got another job interview, so I’d say that was productive. I did some good things for myself.
In other news, a spider is in my room somewhere, hidden, waiting. I had my chance to kill it, as it was a particularly unfriendly looking arachnid. However, it deployed some form of countermeasure and escaped destruction. I’m thinking Bears are behind this.
I feel pretty detached from my sexuality. After separating my focus from topics without solutions, I’ve done a lot better managing my emotions. My sex drive basically shut off, with no object of desire at all within the scope of reality, no future, no investment to make. The flame has been snuffed.
I continue to find my place in this new city of mine. Trees are friend, it has been known for some time. I’ve lost my fishing impulse. It just, doesn’t feel fun. Clearly, this is depression affecting me slightly. I can push through with simple survival in mind, and very likely be okay. I do hope to hear back from the psychiatrist next week and get something scheduled.
Though I am clearly struggling, I am coping. I express, process and move forward. My hope is to achieve stability and prosperity again, while still being able to protect those I love.
The cat, on the other hand, vexes. Since Moo bought healthier rabbit meat kibbles, they have been soundly rejected in comparison to the previous variety of fleshy rabbit freeze-dried meat hunks. As you are about to see, the fantastic enthusiasm leading up to the moment food arrives could not have been more disappointing.
(Much harder given the climate, but I need to do this to help myself right now)
I don’t have much to say. Stepped back, never really had a day. In a bad place overall, don’t feel good by any stretch. I just want this day to go away. I don’t want to be awake anymore.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Cast free on a drift,
Slacked touch ache,
Fading warmth fingered,
Slip the dust of her.
Currents steal futures–
Echo’s reply mocking.
Consuming cold stones,
Yellow to night,
Ahead but still behind,
Water tips in–
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).
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.
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.
I don’t feel like sharing all that much. I’m tired from exercise, lonely and largely uncared about. I didn’t loaf today, I did shit.
I don’t like this. The solution is nowhere in sight. Walking into the unknown, by myself.
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.
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!!!
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!”
Just beyond fingers,
Up to a sky gone down,
Wide-eyed with the impending–
Being the hopeless last.
Suffering in gulping–
Engorged in death,
Squeezed of chance–
To be slowly devoured,
As nothing remains.
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.
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.
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.
Caught in the cold.
Consumed in despair,
Fires by sunset–
Tomorrow’s ashes await.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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!
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?
I’m mere moments from my much-anticipated second interview. I feel a huge swell of confidence and excitement everywhere. I’m pacing around outside to try and burn off some energy before I go in.
Wish me luck blog, here goes nothing.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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,
Unseen, yet, present.
Silhouette through sunlight,
A piece revealed,
The gate ajar–
The thirst calls.
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!
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.
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!
Snapped to strain,
No more than a glance.
For a time,
But not again.
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.
I think the withdrawal symptoms are finally passed. I feel much improved over the last few hours. Lots of warm water helped tremendously.
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.
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.
Falling from edges,
Hard, not flat,
A groan of measure,
Tilted past salvation.
Like sand in the wind,
In the crucible of time.
Until nothing remains.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Dawn to feel,
Temple in ruin,
Bound to distant orbits,
Feeling the strain,
From somewhere far.
Inviting fate to speak.
Past, future, present.
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.
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.
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!
Fetid in the dark,
Dug in roots,
Creeped in moss,
A change of wind–
Dust of blooms,
Enticing ribbons flail,
A chance of taste,
The old color young,
On yellow days.
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!!!!
Stretching the uncurl,
Bending green thickly,
Crisp and sharp–
Drawn on the wind,
Dry to tongues,
Just a flicker,
Shifting in the heat–
Tasting only sand.
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!
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Passed through strands,
Sparkling with delight,
Thick honey sweet.
Razed in ruin,
Ash on her lips.
Born of absolution,
Skying towards sunrise–
Breathe new air,
The dawn has come.
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.
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.
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:
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.
Pressed to a glimpse,
Clutching the clouds–
In a place of forgetting.
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.
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.
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)
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
Split in opposites,
Pulled by distinct gravities.
Vanishing into the mire,
Breathing in mud and sludge,
Seeing their last–
Speak to me–
Speak to me.
Please don’t hide them,
Speak to me–
Trust is what I’m offering…
Good prematurely early morning Blog.
As I rise to face the new day, I am ruminating on a few things:
- 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?
- 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.
- 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…?
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!
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.
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.
Dewed limbs leafily,
Kissed in golds–
And radiant green pools,
Thumped pops on drum logs–
Tiny feet pitter-patter,
Joyous at the dawn.
Dried for the day ahead–
And turned west in the breeze.
whispered, dusty music–
Of summer’s song.
**** 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.
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?
A new album inspired by recent events. **UPDATE** There have been some uncanny harmonies I need to include, so the playlist has been adjusted.
- Hotel California – Eagles
- Walk Away – Joe Walsh
- For Whom The Bell Tolls – Metallica
- Don’t You Know What The Night Can Do? – Steve Winwood
- If I Can’t Have You – Yvonne Elliman
- No One In The World – Anita Baker
- Secret Separation – The Fixx
- Roam – The B-52’s
- A Little Respect – Erasure
- Middle Of The Road – The Pretenders
- No One Like You – Scorpions
- We Built This City – Starship
- What You Need – INXS
- Straight To My Heart – Sting
- Trouble Me – 10,000 Maniacs
- Beautiful – Gordon Lightfoot
- Right Down The Line – Gerry Rafferty
Today they mocked me openly, even 4 of them boiling AROUND MY LURE, not biting it, just ignoring it, avoiding it even. Those saucy fucks. I’m pissed now.
There are big bass in there, because one came right out of the water in front of me. Hi there HOOMAN, just try to catch this!
Okay, so I’m determined now. I see the direction I need to go, and I think I can catch a fish TODAY. Yeah, that’s right, TODAY. I’m done playing marshmallow fun softball. Time to catch a fucking fish.
I’m INVENTING a new rig to try and appeal to the needs of my constituents. They are micro small feeding off tiny gnats and mosquitos, so I need to get light and small. I’m going topwater plastics. All you anglers out there are like: Um, what did you just say? No seriously, I need something that is going to float or nearly float, is small, light, colorful and capable of being giggled and vibrated. I need to become a bug. I’m in the bug’s head right now, flying around, thinking about bug things, and then WHAMO, dead. See people, this is some serious shit. I’m not fucking the monkey squirrel in the ass anymore, I’m all dressed up and going to prom.
I hope today is the day I conquer the trench of unspeakable stubbornness. I need a victory after 6 -8 uneventful visits to the muck pit.
I didn’t get any warmline calls yesterday, but I spent all day with ********. Sorry, but I’ve been asked to censor and word replacement doesn’t make much sense when read back. I did, however, get an email that I responded to and informed someone about our NAMI Sac membership fees. I have also reached out yesterday to my ED David and asked him if there was more I could be doing this week. I’d vastly prefer staying active and busy then sitting in my room smoking weed and wishing I was doing something meaningful.
I’ve had a bit of an emotional upheaval the last few days being with *************************. When I see her, I get several different reactions, a lot of which I’d like to preserve/keep. There is another area though that doesn’t have a place in our lives anymore, and I have been trying to express how difficult that is for me to subdue. It is something I prefer to share openly, because bottled emotions and repressed things often go boom at some point later on. That’s not who I am anymore… I’ve been blown apart by my on un-dealt with feelings too many times.
I am a problem solver, and when presented with the quandary of what to do with these feelings, I adjust internally towards a solution. Plus, there is the additional responsibility of the memories of my past, and things I have done in similar social dynamics. She told me we would have to “break the world” to be together. We did, and it was doomed to fail before it even began. I did though… and it fucking destroyed me for 5 years, and stays with me in my present. I will never subject myself to that agony again. The shame I still carry around my first marriage is a weight I will never be rid of, because it needs to be there to remind me, every day, about what I did.
So being a volunteer is not predictable. I’m like a misfiring laser, sometimes bursting with radiance for a few seconds, sometimes just a tiny little blip of energy, sometimes nothing at all. I have two months to poke my way to a salary of some form, and I promise that I will accomplish that. I have done more with less time.
I have been doing a great job hitting my minimum 10,000 steps a day. I was up at 20,000 per day over the weekend. I do really like the way I feel when I’m more mobile. My cardiovascular health is improving again like back when I used to walk all the time at work in San Diego. I am intent on getting my weight to 175 – 180 range, back like when I was in high school. That’s the body I had before the meds, before depression. I think I can get that healthy person back to center stage, and I will drive myself forward with determination and improved health in mind. It’s really great that *** and I are talking, because she is also healthy and motivated, and we could be good exercise buddies. I do believe we are going for a nearly 3 mile walk today, but even after that, I’ll need to hop on the elliptical for a few miles. It’s harder-earned steps on the elliptical, that’s for sure, but the calculation for distance is not based on steps walked but the turn of the belt around the resistance wheel. So it SAYS I’ve put 151 miles on the odometer, but that’s not “walked,” that’s “ridden” or more like a very pedaling a inefficient bicycle. I’m just being straight with you.
So, here is my cat, Dandelion (I didn’t have any part of naming the cat. If it were up to me we’d call it “meat.”). The cat is pretty much broken, and should be returned to its store of origin and replaced with a cat that actually works properly. As you will see in the video, it doesn’t meow, it squeaks. It doesn’t purr, is snores. It doesn’t hunt, it runs in terror of creatures big and small. However, it has some unusual dog-like characteristics: it loves belly rubs, it comes when called, is fiercely loyal to it’s momma and it works hard to get your attention when it wants something; with the incessant persistence of an animal that has nothing else to do and the determination to get what it wants.
This is 4:30 am feeding time since I’m up ass fuck yes :30 in the morning. She’s much more excitable at dinner. She probably was asleep a few minutes before this video was taken. I did my best to get her all excited. Enjoy!
I learned a great deal about **** today, as we took time to reflect upon the six years that have passed between us. I spent the afternoon catching up with *****, someone who I have loved deeply in my past. Today I learned what struggles have defined ************* new life and what things are ahead of her in the future. I also expressed a commitment to be a good friend to her and support her in her goals.
For her privacy, I won’t disclose what her life is like or what challenges she faces specifically. It is not my place to summarize or presume to know more than I do. I do positively know that I want to help, and commit my energy in what time I have to lightning ******* load. She carries a great deal right now, and the more assistance she can get the better. I have the spirit of the healer in my heart as I endeavor to help someone who I continue to care for.
We spent the afternoon talking and laughing about this and that. There is a harmony I feel with her; a sort of return echo my energy gets. There is a chemical harmony I feel there that is pretty special. We have the capability to make explosions. My interest going forward remains much the same as it has before now; to continue to help those in need as I can and make something of worth from my shattered existence. I have made so many scars in my past… now seems an abundantly good opportunity to heal at least some of them.
I don’t know what the future hold, but I know my caring heart is true. I see hurt, and a need for help, and I reach out my hand. I pick people up that are falling, and set them on the right path. She wants to be going a certain direction, but I think she will need help getting there. I will use my time and energy to help propel her cause forward, and hopefully, towards a time when she and everyone can all be happy together. Friend, times, fun… all in the realm of possibilities.
What a fantastic two days I’ve had! I already bemoaned my dilapidated state in the previous post, at the interval of pause in my volunteer period. Saturday was the day of the event, and I was down there first thing in the morning at 5, then to work by 5:30. I worked the whole day and was, essentially, the bouncer directing event participants to parking and allowing vendors and pick-up/set-up cars through to load or unload. I stood in the sun and was highly effective and helpful for 4 or so hours. Got a nice sunburn going on too, which stands in stark contrast to my overall pastiness.
At the end of the day, an hour of manual labor taking down those 10×10 canopies and loading the trailer. Thoroughly exhausting and my body is beat like a dead cat against a dirty rug. The part that really got me was all the “thank you” messages I got from people leaving the event. All around, everyone I talked to was thanking me for what I did. Erin the event coordinator knows my work ethic and sees that I’m not just another kid in an orange shirt. I know I made a difference, and I gave my total energy capacity limit for this event. I feel really proud of that.
Monday I’m back on the warmline until about 2:00 pm (my personal stopping point). I’m slowly making myself more relevant to NAMI Sacramento and with two months to incessantly badger them with my helpfulness, there is no resisting embracing me into the fold. I need to be making money at some point, but it is not a dire priority. I hope I can be someone of importance within NAMI Sacramento but we shall see. I have good connections with RI and NAMI in San Diego as well, so maybe there’s a bridge to be built there some day.
Advocacy, outreach and persistence. I will continue to tell my story of lived experience and help affect positive change in the environment I find myself in.
On a totally separate note: the “drip, drip, drip…” of American politics has been more like a very entertaining TV show and less like real life than ever before. The Executive has become a reality show, the Legislative is just as mind-numbingly stupid and or boring as ever, and the Judiciary is showing signs of falling hard to the right in a 6-3 swing by next year. I’ve used terms like: “stepped on his own dick,” “uh-oh,” “oh no” and “oh my gawd, why did you say THAT?” to describe the various things I see happening before my eyes. I have also used the following analogy to describe the presidency of Donald J. Trump: The Administration is a huge meteor beginning its descent into the thickening atmosphere of Earth. Right now, the front exterior of the Administration is starting to liquify and burn away, but as we watch in slow motion, unfolding before us is the ever excruciating moments of impending meteoric destruction, eagerly awaiting a final impact on the surface. When this object finally meets its doom, the Administration will be mostly vaporized and what remains will be splattered across the sky for hundreds of miles around the area of peak destruction. Right? Either way you think about this whole thing, it’s looking more and more like there’s going to be a big fucking hole in the ground and a lot of people going “WTF!!!” Just a prediction. I’d be interested to hear a sound argument that somehow exonerates the President or makes this whole sequence seem less like disaster and more like coherent strategy. Good luck with that.
4 hours of manual labor later, and the NAMI Walk is starting to come together. We erected 25 or so of those big fucking tent things, and dozens of tables where people will be handing out information on MH and other related topics. However, blog, I am a tired poop. My poor, frail, seriously atrophied nerd body was stressed to the max with all the lifting, pushing and bending. BUT WHAT A GREAT FEELING! I did some shit, I helped out for a good cause, and at the end of the first day, I feel both dilapidated and refreshed. You’re going… huh? How can you be both of those things?
Brain feels zippy, sharp and ready. Body feels like an old shit in the bottom of a smelly gym sock. Tonight I intend to do final battle with my Latuda nausea and sleep soundly in bed. Tomorrow, I’m back at it bright and early in the morning! 6:00 am baby! I feel pretty good right now however.
It seems to me that some genuinely good things are happening for me at this interval. Woot. More to come tomorrow!
I’m helping set-up for tomorrow’s 2018 Sacramento NAMI Walk. I’ll be heading down to Land Park and working for a few hours, helping out however I can. Today and tomorrow are likely to go way past the 10 hours I needed for my certification. Once reported on Sunday, I’m confident in being able to say I’m a FULLY CERTIFIED Peer Support Specialist.
Remember all that talk about digging around in the past? Well, I reached out to Em, the woman I was with last time I lived in Northern California (7 years ago). After all of the introspection I have been through on this issue, I came to do this for two reasons: First, that she already has a history with me, I knew a lot about her, and we could be friends again just based on the things we share or have shared. Second, I feel responsible for who I was at that time in my life, and I continually seek to resolve pain and hurt caused. Em was indeed still very hurt from that time, and it makes perfect sense to me. I hear her pain, and I wish I could help her resolve it.
The time since then has afforded me an opportunity to suffer a great many more calamities, and continually test my will to stay sane with each new gesture. I had to fall on my face, and again, in order to lift my shit off the ground and try again. I’m more determined than ever not to eat shit on the dirt and make a crater. I have a strength in me unlike any I have had before, derived from a great deal of pride and confidence. I have ascended to a new place in my reality and the view from the height is fantastic!
I’ve worked hard to rectify my own feelings about the past… maybe I can help My Friend do the same. Even if she never intends to be my friend or have anything to do with me, I would encourage her to write me a letter, and let me know exactly how she feels. My only desire is to be able to show acceptance, understanding, and ask forgiveness. The events themselves are never gone, but the enduring pain over it not having been properly closed is the pain that need not be suffered. Being able to end things having helped her, instead of having hurt her, would be the proper way to end our time together.
Since exploding myself a few times over the years, I find that, in this metaphor, the re-congealed bits of my former self are harder to break apart than before, having become re-bonded to each other with some highly effective adhesive. I’m not sure where I was going with that, but it does sound pretty fucking awesome.
Anyway blog, tonight I work! Hooray! I have a two month deadline to transform this non-paying volunteer position into something that pays. I do believe that if I can prove myself at events like tonight-tomorrow, I will be one of those invaluables that must be retained in some capacity. I do have a tendency to be the shiniest person around, and we all know how people get when you wave something shiny at them. Swat!
A captivating embrace,
Sheltered from the placid sun–
Flush, deep and rich with whispers.
Channeled narrowly through columns,
Spoken openly in greens–
Abiding, soaked in history,
Colonized and conquered,
In constant motion, yet, unchanged.
Hands, dance in the wind,
Itchy fingers reach out–
Canopy of possibilities,
Stretched out along the path home.
I recently started fishing a junction point of the agricultural waterway at the point where it crosses the 80. There’s a big, open area of water where I WAS SURE there would be fishies. I’ve been there 5 times with different setups each time; not even one bite. Are there fish in the murky trench? Why yes there are, and large ones at that. I’m not a catch and kill guy, I just enjoy the sport of temporarily mutilating a fish and then sparing its life to be tormented by some other human at some point later on down the line. I don’t argue it’s wholesomeness… because it’s truly horrible. However, it is also primal, instinctual, and a trigger of a sort. Some little animal part of my brain expands when I am trying to trick a fish into biting my artificial lure. I think about the crankbait swimming through the water, or the spinnerbait sparkling. There is an art to how I use the topwater popper, and how I can simulate an injured baitfish with my “moves.” I especially like being on the bottom, and feeling all the mud, rocks, plants and other things that the bait bumps into on its way back to me. A stasis, or, euphoria pervades, with imagination as the great engine of imagery. I don’t like killing and eating the flesh of what I have killed. My Dad and Mom’s generation are still really into that sort of thing. It connects them to themselves somewhere deep, like fishing kinda does for me.
The story is about persistence. My subjects will only be able to elude me for as long as the mystery of what they find interesting remains as such. A great thing I have learned in life is that if you concentrate a great deal of dedication onto something (whether it be a full time job, or a project, or a relationship [or catching a stubborn fish]) you can almost certainly count on getting it, or at least some part of it, over time. The passage of days is key, because impatience leads to frustration and burnout. Just like slowly dragging that Texas rig through the muck, all things develop in time and with the application of determination. I am determined to get mentally healthy, me a part of NAMI Sacramento and live the rest of my life loving the people that matter and taking care of those who need help. Sounds like a pretty fantastic thing to be dedicated to, no?
Fishing and achieving lofty goals is about going slow, and making sure you take more steps forward than steps backward overall. Perseverance is driving the hammer of will to the nail of reality. Be the master of your own domain, as they might say in pop culture. Keep smacking the shit out of reality until it takes a more desirable shape. No body gets anything done in this world by pooping the bed and not going anywhere. Get off the pooped-on bed and let’s go do some shit!
Activities: Fishing, Writing, Politics, Family, Beer, Weed, Walking/Hiking, Movies/TV, D&D. Fiction, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Literature, English, Geology, Meteorology, Astronomy, Zoology, Debate/Discourse
Personality Attributes: Sense of Humor, Intellect, Scientific areas of Study, Logic, Compassion, Empathy, Unbreakable Bonds, Love, Trust, Passion, Dedication, Adoration, Polarity, Pain, Joy, Happiness, Lust, Desire, Closeness, Friendship, Enlightenment
Flaws: Diseased, Scarred, Imbalanced, Obese, Damaged, Confused, Frustrating, Inconstant, Unreliable, Irrelevant
Adjectives: Unique, Hyperbolic, Embellished, Observant, Sensitive, Auric, Old, Detached, Irrelevant, Archaic, Poignant, Introspective, Improving, Prideful, Honest, Moral, Obedient, Calculating, Thoughtful, Logical, Internal, Complex, Random, Arbitrary, Nonsensical, Surprising, Shocking, Rude, Deranged, Contrary, Objective, Respectful, Chivalrous, Smelly, Strange
I wish I was balanced, and I had a chance to explore all the avenues of my life without having willingly or unwillingly given up on them. I defined my early life by confusion, frustration, misguidedness and disorientation. Real life shocked me into functionality, but the mold didn’t work for me and I collapsed. I went through that cycle three or four times before arriving at the point I am at now. Things are stable, but also still very easily perturbed. The problem lies in my personal toxicity. Everyone who gets close to me is eventually poisoned and grows to hate me for one reason or another. The people who can’t get rid of me have swallowed the pain I’ve caused them and moved on.
Scarred with ridges,
Scraps in the dust,
Resigned to emptiness,
Curled in the dark,
I guess the title refers to my own introspective process rather than something external. My thoughts have gone back to the past many times, especially to reflect on how I could have been a better listener and communicator. I had a lot to learn, but I think I’m significantly more skilled in this area then I ever have been. I have put my mind to being a better person, and it’s headed in the right direction.
The cleansing is one of my own scrutiny. I feel now that I have begun to absolve myself of guilt from my past. I have worn it like a burden for a long time, but now it is time to proceed ahead without the extra luggage.
Saying and doing are starkly different things. I have momentum on my side though as I scale back my indulgences/vices. Learning control is discipline, which helps build meta mind. I’m already pretty insightful but practice is essential to success. I intend to take positive steps and try to go up even when brought down.
I don’t know what’s coming, but all the pieces of a happy life are starting to congeal. I hope things continue to improve, and hopefully, sponsor more vital energy to fuel the me machine.
I have really let myself fall into a rut lately. With all my forward pushing, I’m still neglecting some of the basic things that will help keep me operational. I have been overeating and smoking pretty excessively, both of which need to be brought under the umbrella of discipline. I believe that both of these things require moderation to be of use, and when abused, can lead to downspiraling symptoms.
Fortunately, I have been nudged and am now nudging myself as well. I need to regain control of my physical self and become more responsible about my body.
- I will endeavor to eat healthily and timely as to not perpetuate a cycle of weight-gain
- I will regulate and moderate my use of marijuana to specific times instead of being available as needed
You guys have heard me struggle with this type of thing before. Though, the marked difference this time is my lifestyle and professional choices lend themselves to a healthier way of living, to better represent myself as someone who has the skills and functionality to manage their own life. I have thus far failed to grasp that discipline fully, but I do feel closer than before. As my walking, exercise and activity increase, so to will my health improve. I wish I had back that exuberance I used to be so well known for, and perhaps its out there waiting for me as I emerge from the mire.
Today I go to work as a volunteer for mental health. This is the place I have longed to finally be at, and a reality I have helped to make for myself. I remain confident in my direction and purpose, but still feel the need for deep introspection during this time of escalating transition.
Through the last 6 years this blog has seen me transition through countless ups and downs. My illness has meteored my life with my assistance, and I have rebuilt it over and over again. The last time I got stable, I was proud of myself for being able to hold down a job for 40 hours a week and then rise to excellence while in it. They promoted me and increased my salary by more than 30% so I wasn’t wasting anyone’s time. I earned those accolades. Even in that most recent crumble to nothing there was hope, and a very obvious silver lining. I hadn’t given up on them, they had given up on me for being disabled and not worth their time to accommodate. I walked away from that knowing I could have given them so much more, if only they hadn’t been so fucking stupid and weren’t able to figure it out. In the end, a victory over idiocy and unfairness. I have created a new path for myself, one that I am abundantly proud to walk.
Here we go writing a new chapter.