Details (Long Ass Post)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zzzzzzeeeeerrrrrrrrrr

Zzzt

-{===|]

Productivity Achieved?

Score: +2.5

Hi there Blog.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chabookafresh

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

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

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

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

Next Phase

Score: +4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s back!

-{===|}

Attitude Adjustment

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

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

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

Crawling Forward

Score: +2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patterns

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

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

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

I feel the need to draw this line

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There we go.

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

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

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

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

Off

Score +1.5

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

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

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

Green

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes

Score: +4

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

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

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

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

Drop It Like It’s HOT!

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

That’s not the real score, fear not.

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

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

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

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

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

Narg

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

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

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

Catapulting skyward.

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

Here we go on a new adventure!

Basics

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

There are a few key components to good communication.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goodnight blog.

Improved

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

So yay.

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

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

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

Miserable

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

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

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

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

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

Tipped

Tiny grains,

Falling from edges,

Hard, not flat,

Piling–

A groan of measure,

Precarious angle,

Tilted past salvation.

A dream–

Like sand in the wind,

Touching, scattering–

In the crucible of time.

Shores bare,

Receding,

Until nothing remains.

Preperation

Yesterday’s Evening Score: +2.5

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Strings

Dawn to feel,

Some distant–

Dusty shelf.

Remnants–

Just strings.

Temple in ruin,

Dashed columns–

Memories collapse.

Bound to distant orbits,

Inescapably calling,

Begging–

Feeling the strain,

From somewhere far.

Strings,

Dancing, alive–

Inviting fate to speak.

Touch–

Past, future, present.

 

Zero G Slug Attack!

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

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

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

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

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

All The Moths

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

Ta ta for now, and good morning!

Paths

Snarly hues,

Grumbling recesses–

Fetid in the dark,

Deep grip–

Dug in roots,

Creeped in moss,

Stagnant, rotting.

A change of wind–

Dust of blooms,

Enticing ribbons flail,

Winding bright–

A chance of taste,

Distant, remaining.

Contrasting,

The old color young,

On yellow days.

Second Interview

Score: +3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Discovered Land

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

 

Welcome to: Muck Trench Proper

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

The Time To Act

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Ever-Changing Heart

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Remembrance

Passed through strands,

Fringes–

Sparkling with delight,

Her smile–

Thick honey sweet.

Broken columns,

Deposed–

Razed in ruin,

Ash on her lips.

Promises fleeting,

Born of absolution,

Skying towards sunrise–

Breathe new air,

The dawn has come.

#1,404

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

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

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

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

BLAMO!

This mornings fishing trip really brought it all home:

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

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

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

Epiphany blog!

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

Fluctuational

Score: +2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other Thoughts

Good prematurely early morning Blog.

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

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

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

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

A Curse Upon Fishes!

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

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

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

HOWEVER.

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

Saltwater = anything goes because fish is meat

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

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

 

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

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

 

Affirmations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Triggers

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

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

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

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

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

Smashed

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

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

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

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

What is this feeling?

**UPDATED** 5/18 – Chapter 2.5?

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

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

Absolved

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.

Memories Found

I found these pictures today of Em and I back when we dated. On the occasion that my life in Sacramento imploded about 6 years ago, we ventured south and I lost all contact with her. My sentimentality and generousness for forgiveness lends me to want to build bridges rather than seek to burn them down (if they happened to still exist).

I would like to find her again, and see how the road has been treating her. I certainly have meteored-out at least once between then and now. Seeing her face reminds me of how passionately I loved her, and I can still feel the ache in the place that is now empty because she has gone. There will never be anyone else like her, and no one that could replace what she brought to my life, for a time. I learned many things because of Em, and seeing her bright face only reminds me further of the memories we made together. Those years were some of the happiest times in all my life; when I lived in that granny flat in Fair Oaks with Em. We had two wild chickens whose names I still remember: Jack (black) and Houdini (brown) that hung around the house. That summer when we first moved in and the hot water wasn’t working… We took baths in the tub out on the lawn and had sex under the stars at night. Passionate moments both good and bad were all a part of my span with her. Many beautiful memories though, a lot like this picture of the two of us. I will never forget those moments and all of the things I have gained having lived through them.

 

What an odd thing to find at random in a notebook, just a few weeks into my return to Northern California. To Em: wherever you are, peace be with you.

Emelia Gribkoff Westin Bailey

Back when we were together

Creativity Lost and Found

I have been afforded a unique opportunity to explore a “world” that had been dormant for a long time, as you can see by my fiction of late. This new spark has brought life a new color and added a smile to my face. At the same time as this creativity spurns new life, it reminds me of the last time I ventured down this avenue of thought.

Jax and I started a blog called “Ruptured Worlds” many years ago, and we planned to bring our two imaginations together and unite the fantasy worlds we had each created. She had a deep and rich world full of dimensions, languages and fantastic creatures, and I too had a setting that was deep and immersive. That was something I really still love about her, is that she is a wild dreamer. Her creativity was compelling, and I still do not regret any of the money I invested in helping her realize her potential. We wanted to create a fantasy story in sort of a living way, where posts on the blog advance the plot and document the narrative over time.

Not everything worked out the way I wanted, and I think this Ruptured Worlds thing was one of the last things we ever spoke about. She lost a lot of her content when we split, but none of it had been documented on the blog as we never wrote a single post. I didn’t have anything more than a “coming soon” sort of blurb to our non existent audience. It makes me sad to think that world she created never had a chance to be realized and shared. This is one of many regrets. However, my own imaginative enterprise is marching ahead with a new infusion of interest.

I have often times refused to take credit for “coming up” with this world, as I dreamed it all in such vivid clarity. All was made apparent to me, at least, the primary mechanic of the “universe.” This reality is different, and loaded with heritage, history and strife.  When I awoke, I documented my experiences, and began to fill in the details. I soon thereafter spiraled into mania and went on a two day 72 page tear where I didn’t sleep and constantly obsessed. I have recently discovered the document I created at the peak of my illness. I originally composed it in 2004 and it is loaded with emotional sadness and loneliness of a profound variety. This universe, or reality, has grown over the years, and players have been added to the story. I have also turned this world in to (now) 3 D&D campaigns. The one I am running now is by far the best iteration of the universe. I have a deep and engrossing story and a compelling plot which will drive the engine of creativity forward.

This new campaign brings up memories of Jen too, as she was the star character in the first D&D game in this universe. She and I were entwining by then and the narrative they all crafted takes me down a road of thinking about the memories we made. There were some good times in there, albeit, far outweighed. It’s the same sort of feeling I get for Jax: there is a fondness for that beautiful moment where our minds were playing together, contrasted with all the damage we later inflicted upon each other. Would those campaigns and moments had as much potency if not for those women I loved being wrapped up in them? I contend that the emotional gravitas of the story was amplified by the feelings I had, but not the source of them. I have an unending well of enthusiasm for this reality, and I greatly enjoy any chance to openly recreate there. With or without female companionship.

This is a good chance for me to be solemn and thankful. I am glad for the loves I have had and the good memories we shared. Those rare moments where I felt truly and unconditionally understood. I have come to a sort of peace with my past in that sense, otherwise visiting The Realm would be a painful excursion. For me, I can relish the now, while celebrating what there is to from our pasts. I regret, yes, and I’m sure that’s a mutual thing. I don’t have to wear my mistakes on my sleeve, but I do need to be aware of them (as I have said countless times). Negative emotions, grudges and anger all drain down what little energy I have available to keep my boat upright. Some people have no problem holding on to anger. It tears me apart and destroys me over time, like holding radioactive waste in my hand. So I gave up on that. The free energy I have now can go toward things like helping the disadvantaged and the severely mentally ill. I have the freedom to create an an environment unencumbered by anger and pain. The world is wide open blog. We are missing out on taking in the good if we are only focusing on the bad.

In this new dawn of creativity found, I still take the time to look back with fondness at all that has been. Memories stained with pain, but there are still fibers of that moment that are not lost. There is always something to be gained and some way to grow. Don’t let a catastrophe pass by without changing something about yourself. Bad things do happen, but so do beautiful things. I choose to look through the filter of someone who forgives and has forgiven himself. I choose to create, not destroy.

 

A Decision Made

I had been living in a world of ambiguity, unsure as to what direction I would be headed. I didn’t know if I should continue to be true to my workplace or to march ahead with my life helping the mentally ill. I needed clarity and things were coming to a head.

As of this moment, my independent life is over. I am living in my parent’s living room for the next 7 months. We are all, as I have stated in previous posts, moving north in July 2018. I had hoped to be working and saving money during that time, but instead I have sued my workplace for discrimination. That process has moved forward to the point of a formal demand letter. I did not know what my future was going to be and perhaps I still don’t. However, I do have some clarity that I want to spend my time helping people and getting back in touch with my peers. I have been a cog in the corporate machine before, and I reject that as a meaningful contribution. I want meaning. I NEED to be doing something that has an impact. I’ve solved problems for customers, yes. It is not the same as picking someone up off the floor and helping them walk again.

I do believe the lawsuit will be settled out of court. The money I receive should be comparable to what I would have made if I still worked most of next year. I hope that I can be kept occupied by my new direction. I need a formal, professional, helpful relationship to engage with. Life has been a scramble with me moving out, and the dust is beginning to settle. I feel like I am headed in the right direction, but there is still quite a bit to be done. Today I have my interview with NAMI at 4. I am very excited to meet them and express my enthusiasm for the opportunity.

I am definitely in a fiction place rather than non fiction. I am rebooting The Realm for my friends and running a d20 game. First one I’ve run in maybe 10 years. I’ve always been down to run games, I just never had the spark. I seem to have found that now, at least, which has spurned a beautiful creative process. I have written a great deal of fiction, none of which is in any sort of final state. I will however post my most polished turd for you to gawk at. Creative input requested!

As the days go on, the future resolves itself further. I’m encouraged by the progress I’ve made and glad to have something fun to ponder about. The story  have in mind for them is QUITE compelling. Dramatic. Inspiring. Own horn. Tooted.

Return to Center

Hi blog. I know it’s been several months since I checked in, and there is a sprawling narrative behind the reasoning involved. The story I have to tell is one of great struggle to exist and sustain in society, and how difficult that is for someone who is severely mentally ill. I have dealt with deep depression, and psychotic/manic rage. I still feel a great deal of hope for my future, but anxiety is crushing me down with spun versions of a darker reality. I hope to be able to expose the last few months to you, and together we can see how the circumstances of my life caused my downfall, and eventual return to center.

About a month before I stopped blogging, the environment at work was becoming acutely toxic. I was hated, loathed even by a solid 2/3 of the people I was supposed to be coaching. It was becoming apparent that my position had no real authority, and would not be validated with any, so no one had any cause to listen to my recommendations because they knew no harm would come to them if they did not. Things had been going on this way for a year or more, and I was just becoming aware that there was no respect for me with a lot of the people that needed to see me as an instructor. Or, at least someone that had to listen to. Instead, the agents acted out against me by messing with my things at my desk, or making areas messy that I had taken the responsibility to clean. They would also use the hangouts chat to gossip about undoing thew work I was doing and how I was, essentially, a prick for asking them to not do something that directly made my job harder.

I had a meeting with my boss after I basically had a mini-meltdown at work. The main thing they wanted me to do was treat the disdain of my subordinates like “water off a duck’s back.” I agreed at the time, sensing that if this was their suggestion for how someone mentally ill should cope with a hostile work environment, I don’t want to even enter a discussion about it. I swallowed my thoughts and moved on, promptly going psychotic the following week trying to do what they asked me to do. You see, I’m not able to just let things roll off the ol’ carapace. Everything gets in, because I’m sponging up emotional vibrations, facial expressions and body language 100% of the time no matter if I want to or not. When I’m in a room with a dozen people that really don’t like me at all, that shit is like radioactivity breaking apart my DNA a little at a time, every second of the day. It was an unsustainable agony that lead to a truly scary moment of murderous psychotic rage while I was alone in my truck.

After some time away, I came to a conclusion that working remotely, as I had done in the past, would be an immediate remedy to the environmental duress I had suffered previously. The remote anonymity and even video conferences are not hostile encounters with agitated people in the same room as I am. I’m in my safe space, and I still get to see them and communicate with them. This seemed like a no-brainer since I have traditionally been far more productive on days where I have been allowed to work from home in the past. I asked for accommodation under the ADA so I could continue to work and be productive for them with a slight adjustment to my needs.

Dealing with HR has been frustrating, since they have no interest in asking me for any specifics on how I will need to be accommodated, and continually postpone acceptance of a return date as well as the specifics of what I was asking for. I’m now basically down to my last few uncommitted dollars, and I need to get back to work so I can start making money again. Then they disabled my email account at work, so I started to get suspicious that maybe they were just hoping I’d give up or something.

To be honest, I might have if not for a step I took a while ago to change the direction I wanted to take my life. I’ve been here on this blog advocating repeatedly for participation in society regardless of mental illness or disability. If you want to be productive, nothing should stand in the way of you being able to do that. I had a chance to work 40 hours a week because of my stability, but nothing is permanent with mental illness. I slid downhill for months. I stayed away from this blog for longer than I ever have before, which I knew was not a good thing. I was becoming depressed, and I felt like I was giving my daily energy to a company that was never going to appreciate who I am or what I have to offer. What was I doing with my life? Making money to pay the bills, but to what end? Saving $50 a month? For what?

I began to understand that unless I am making a difference in someone’s life with the knowledge and skills I have, I am not going to be happy. I need to affect change, and the best way I could think to do that was to start with the one thing I have truly done well with in my time: mental illness. I have a lot of real societal, intellectual and emotional success being a severely mentally ill person, and maybe I could be an inspiring force in someone’s life who also may struggle with it as I have. I went back to my old clinic, the one that raised me up from the mud of post suicidal depression 4 years ago and got me shambling forward again. I went back and started taking classes before my meltdown at work, and I had already decided then that when we all move away next summer to Sacramento,  I was going to start my life over as a peer-to-peer mental health advocate. I don’t care about income, or possessions. I just want to be out there making a difference in someone’s life, being there for a person who is down and thinking dark thoughts, and always a smiling face that appreciates the unique value we all have regardless of circumstance. I’m a step-forward kinda guy, and If I can help people get their heads out of the past and focused on what they have yet to accomplish, I think I would truly be at a place in my life I cold be proud of. I’m not happy about being a cogwheel in the massive machine of corporate greed. I want a life with meaning. I’ve fucked up so badly to (nearly) this point, and I want to give back for all the things I could have done better, and will do better now that I have learned from my mistakes.

I’ve been out of work for a while and at this point, I’ve started the formal legal process of bringing suit against my workplace for discrimination on grounds of disability. My goal here would be to get my company to recognize that they need to take me seriously and respect my rights as a disabled person or there will be consequences. I will not be pushed off or brushed aside. I would like to come back and continue to work for them until next summer, but if they keep walking down the road they are on, they’ll be sued for lost wages and damages.

People of the internets who are disabled and face unjust or inhumane practices from their workplaces: you are protected and you have rights. Don’t let them step on you, especially given how hard you had to have worked to get into a job and hold it. They don’t understand your struggle and they never will unless you hit them in the jaw with the motherfucking gavel of justice!

I don’t know what’s coming for me, but I continue to go to my groups at the clinic and I am enrolled to be certified for Peer Employment Training so I can be a P2P counselor no matter where I go. Do something in your life that makes this world a better place for us all. Things are so absurdly fucked up right now… everywhere. We need to all be helping each other. I want to do my part so I can feel good about who I am, and what I did with my life. I need to know I really did try to do the right thing, and that all I ever wanted was what was fair. I encourage you to do the same in your own respect, and find a path to self-worth that becomes a fire that will not go out.

I promise to be more regular again, for myself and to keep you all appraised of my literal quest for social justice.

 

Going

It’s been a while since I checked in, and that’s largely for encouraging reasons. I tend to feel the need to write when things are turbulent, and within the past two weeks things have been pretty good. I have been taking the Latuda for a while now and I think the 40 mg dose is having an effect. My mood has been better, and my energy is up a bit. I’m back to a good level of exercise and my sleep has been fairly consistent. 

I am more resolved now than ever before to stay single and live my life the way I want. I don’t need approval from anyone but myself. My intent is to do the best job I can being who I am  and hold my head up with the realization of that. I’m severely mentally ill, but I won’t let that own my life. 

Will came down and visited, which was really great. We hung out like the old days and it reminded me of all the good times we’ve had together. We have been hanging out online and playing games with friends lately which has been excellent fun. The longer this pattern goes on the happier I’ll be. 

I’ve had some hard times in the recent past. I have also taken action when I noticed things were getting bad. I have been trying to be friends with Amanda, but I feel like I felt right before I broke up with her. It’s the same pattern of frustration and I don’t think I have any relevance to her anymore, or ever at all. I thought I could help her get a fresh start and provide guidance as someone who has successfully recovered from total life collapse, but I have doubts as to my messages being understood. Mind you, my life collapse was not as severe as hers, but many of the parallels should be noted. I have wisdom to give, though it is not “fun” to hear. Often times recovery isn’t about making the easy choice, but the one we must face down in order to go farther. Progress is earned, and the reward is pride. I don’t think Amanda gets that, which is still painful to see unfold. 

All I want is to help. I care about some people, and I don’t hesitate to offer assistance to those who need it, whether they ask for it or not. Sometimes help is a hug, or a smack in the face, but it serves a purpose either way, and that is to promote and acknowledge healthy behaviors. I myself have taken this type of advice and adopted regular meditation to my bedtime routine. I’m very reluctant to meditate because it is ridiculously hard to calm my mind for more than a couple of seconds. It’s a huge battle for me, but it is part of training my mind and to have control over my thoughts. People told me to be more mindful, and here I am implementing that in my personal reality. As a result, I have conclusively increased the sleep stage that provides me with a rested feeling the next day (Fitbit calls this: deep sleep). I was averaging less than an hour per night, and waking up feeling groggy and I was behind schedule. Since the meditation, that number has risen to more than an hour and a half, and I’ve had several excellent mornings in a row now. I do indeed practice what I preach. 

I hope you all have a good night. I’m happy that tomorrow is Thursday and we are but a stone’s throw from the weekend. Jubilation! 

Burning Out

Remember how I said that Sunday was my last family activity? I forgot to mention my parents are moving as well, and as of this afternoon that task too will be completed. Meanwhile, I’m barely hanging on. My energy is in the tank, my attitude sucks and my motivation has shriveled up and died. It has been a grueling week plus a few days. 

However, by the time late afternoon gets here, I really will be left alone to have my weekend. I can relax and regain some inertia. This run has taxed me, and there have been consequences. Mainly, I drive much more aggressively than I have in the past. I need to stop doing that because it is dangerous and not beneficial. I also blew up at this lady who asked me if I could plug her dual diagnosis site. At first I told her yes, back earlier in the week, but as you can see, I haven’t had the strength to post until now. She poked me yesterday asking if I had done my favor for her, and I told her I’d post it when I was good and ready, if at all. If I’m the one helping you out, don’t prod me to get me to do it faster. That’s infuriating. So, I’m not going to post her content as a reminder to myself and others: treat me with respect, and you will be treated with the same… treat me like an idiot and count me out. 

It’s an hour before my alarm goes off. I just had a series of perturbing dreams that I clearly remember, for once (a byproduct of hugely reduced cannabis intake). I dreamed about Amanda, and that I was kicking the shit out of her ex husband. But he was like, unstoppable. He insisted on annoying me and no matter how hard I hit him or choked him or smashed his face with bricks, he just kept coming. He tore my Fitbit off my arm, he stole my phone, he was standing over me while I was in bed, it gets weirder from there. Amanda and I tried to have sex but he was right there and I couldn’t get hard. It was totally strange. Then there was an alien invasion and people were being harvested and taken up to the mothership. We were all fugitives running from safe house to rendezvous point. For some reason or another, Amanda and I had to split up. I cried because I knew we were both going to be caught before we reached the next safe place, and I was never going to see her again. It was a strange dream with a bummer ending. 

Today I’m finishing up the move for my parents. We are hauling food to the new apartment. After today, moving time will be over. I can’t tell you how badly I need the time off. I also really want to see Carly but she’s been busy for the last two months. A product of circumstance, mind you. I still believe Carly is repulsed and also not interested in talking about my herpes, which will relegate our relationship to a platonic state. I guess I don’t mind that, since I was the one who did this to myself. I can’t expect anyone to want to have sex with me anymore. 

Well blog, one more day. 

End

I made it to the end of the day and I am glad for it. This weekend has been the most conflicted and most emotionally taxing one I’ve had in distant memory. It was a constant battle to resist my urges and stay true to my goal. Now at the conclusion, I am well-fed and at peace, ready to pass some time before going to bed. 

Do you ever get that feeling like all you want to do is get in bed and hide? I’ve had that feeling since 7 am. I knew that there was an appropriate time to acknowledge that, but it wasn’t until just now. Yet another thing I had to hold myself back from. 

Tomorrow I go back to work, and the schedule aught to help me stay focused. It’s the long stretches of unstructured time that I struggle with. Tonight, all I have left to do is relax and enter a peaceful sleep. My fit bit tells me I’m getting a whole lot more R.E.M. sleep than when I was smoking, hence the dream I had earlier. That’s really the one potential snag in this equation: nightmares. I could be ruined tomorrow if I have a terrible nightmare. My very first dream in months last night was a nightmare. Not a great sign. Nightmares alter my neurochemistry which has an immediate impact on my life. Not something most of you have to worry about. 

I got a chance to chat with friends today. Played some games. Did chores, and kept myself distracted. I’m proud of myself for not caving in. I never even opened the drawer. 

I hope the rest of your Sunday goes well. 

Dreaming Again

If there is as aspect to regular marijuana use That I have become somewhat dependent on, it is dream suppression. Why would that be a good thing you ask? Most people enjoy dreaming for the most part, but I am consistently tortured by it. 

Tonight I had dreams, and was eaten by a dragon, which may not seem like a big deal until you appreciate just how vivid and horrific that experience really was. Fictional? Yes. Terrifying? Also yes. This is but a brief glimpse into what my dreams are usually like. 

So I know I’m still doing the right thing in quitting, but I don’t much like all these side effects. Most of you have no problems dreaming and marking them as irrelevant, but my dreams can ruin my next day, spin me into depression or anxiety and generally haunt me throughout. I do not like dreaming, it is a liability. 

So as I forge ahead with my self-imposed sobriety, I now must accept that I will dream, and chances are, it won’t be much fun. 

I’m Walking Forward…

I can see now that this path I’m on is rather desolate, but it is the one I have relegated myself to walk. I must come to terms with that fact and embrace the future and the new horizon that lies ahead. Even though the diversity of my reality has been limited in some ways, it has been enhanced in others. Some ways even  that I have not yet come to realize, I’ll be willing to bet. This process is unlike anything I have done in my life, or even felt remotely capable of doing. To be alone. To survive, and be utterly alone. To have happiness, and be alone.

I wish I knew if I was going to be really happy. If I knew that this path would take me there, I would feel no reservation about committing myself to it. Instead, I’m highly skeptical that there is anything like happiness to be had within the understanding of myself. I am not a happy person, I’m a depressed person, and it takes a lot of extra energy to make me a happy person. Usually the energy can come from someone else, and the burden of being happy is much lighter on me. But alone, I have to will the feeling out of my inmost self and paste it across my face for everyone to see. I feel most happy when someone is loving me. I can’t feel that way by myself, no matter how much I profess to love who I am, the two things are not comparable. Is this whole path a folly?

In my core, I know I need to do this. I need to prove it to myself that I am a complete person who is capable of being happy unaided. Consistently and truly. I will not have fully understood who I am until I try to accomplish that. I hope I succeed, but either way, you bloggomites will be here every step of the way. I have shown you utter failure before; it is my intention that I won’t have to again.

Levels

Things are progressing nicely towards our first physical meeting. I, unfortunately, am sick at the moment with a stomach bug, and have cancelled said meeting which was planned for today. The truth of why is the best part. First, the only way I can give her the bug would be to kiss her or to have her put her lips on something that had previously had my lips on it. As this was how I got it. However, she wanted to cancel the meeting because she wanted there to be”no restrictions” at our first meeting. Dang! First meeting? I was all ready to do a hand holding meeting for coffee first before even considering a next move. Nope, she wants zero restrictions. I’m pretty okay with that.

So now the plan is to drive up to Universal Studios and go to Harry Potter zone together. IF… it materializes, that would be a truly fun day. Expensive, but also very exciting and I’d get to spend it with a shockingly beautiful woman. My heart would barely be able to contain itself with her on my arm. She’s very interesting blog, and she has this idea of me that is truly flattering and makes me feel proud in a way. I know that’s who I am, but to see it renewed in her eyes and through her words is remarkable. It’s genuine adoration and interest.

She LIKES me blog, and I like her. She is someone who is similar me in some ways but vastly different in others. Those ways we contrast make us the unique people we are, and in those differences are countless memories and experiences from vastly different branches of development. We have these things to share with each other, not for the sake of contrast, but for education. I want to know what her life was like, so I can better understand the person she became because of it.  Kendra fascinates me deeply, and I am just starting to understand who she is. I have real emotions of fondness and lust growing towards her, with deep and powerful roots.

I don’t know what the future will hold but I am going to be fully enraged in exploring this new development in my life. I’m melting her into a puddle blog, I really am.

Interpretive

Remember those Jax dreams I had mentioned a few posts back? Margaret shined some light on things by stating that the memories/dreams aren’t about inherently bad things, but rather, the opposite. They had positive perspectives, no fighting, just love. I spun my dreams as bad things because it reminded me of old dead emotions that hurt. I still ache because of her. All the while my mind is wondering how something benign had turned into such a force of devastation. 

Well I’m all about alternating points of view. It was nice to have some insight into these memories and dreams. I think that I will handle things differently the next time this happens. I can learn to accept remembering or inventing things about Jax as long as they don’t poison me with pain. I don’t have any anger anymore, just sadness… but it’s the ache of loss that hurts the most. Since these memories don’t mention sadness or loss, I intend to take them as is. 

Well, that’s it for me tonight. 

Buspirone

Score: +2.5

My day began with the return of the ghost. This formless specter occasionally haunts my dreams, where it usually succeeds in killing me through suffocation. I often try to confront the ghost, but it is unimaginably powerful. It wins every time. In last night’s permutation, it was after my sister, which has not happened before. I woke up before things got out of hand, as the ghost was trying to carry my sister off into a closet. I have been consulting with Amanda about what this all means, but even the dream guide can’t make much sense of it. All I know for sure is that the ghost comes out when depression is near. 

My anxiety has been rather constant, and it’s largely physical symptoms. My muscles are in a state of spasm and agitation, my thoughts are spinning around rapidly, I feel like a weight is pressing down on my chest. And I’ve done my cognitive homework on this one, so I’m not just thinking bad thoughts and allowing anxiety to carry them out of control. I have tried things to reduce anxiety, but they don’t get me out of the hole. So I called my doctor and she called back today and after some discussion we agreed to start me back up on Buspar. I will be taking an introductory dose until she can see me again on the 20th. She’s afraid I will get manic since I’m on a max dose of Welbutrin and the Buspar could push me over. But I told her that the only times I have been manic were when I went through a full unmediated cycle and then once when my first psychiatrist put me on 3 antidepressants at the same time. So it’s not something I think will happen. But if I start to get out of control, I can just stop the Buspar. 

Anyway. I’m ok overall. The anxiety is irritating, but surmountable. Things in life are progressing. Amanda goes back to work in two weeks. I’m really not sure how that is going to go. She has so much hatred for that place. 

I’m going to be ok. Hopefully I sleep soundly, without any dreams. 

Buoyancy

Score: +4.5

It has been a memorable Monday indeed blog. I took a day off work, and got to know my girlfriend Amanda better. I feel like, if I am ever going to find a long term partner, I must be able to both understand and trust her fully. I have failed in past attempts because I did not take the time to comprehend who they were as people before falling in love. I gave them all my trust, and my heart, but I did so on a whim. I have learned an important lesson from those experiences, and I am doing things differently this time… as hard as that can be at times.

Blog, I must be perfectly honest with you: she makes me feel incredible. I know now that I am falling in love with her, slowly and steadily, as I uncover more of who she is. I’m not in love yet, but if things continue going this way, I will be.

After Jax, I felt condemned, and that I would not desire to go looking for love again because the consequences of having my heart broken were still so near (and painful). I was also punishing myself, because I felt like I did not deserve to love anyone again after the mistakes I had made in previous relationships. In early March, it will have been a year since Jax and I were through. The divorce did not go final until November, and so the reality of my time as a legal bachelor is a mere 75 days. But this does not take into account all the time from March 10th onward, where I was physically alone, but more importantly, rebuilding. That stretch from then until meeting Amanda was 320 days long, which is still 45 days shy of a year.

Blog, I know that I’m still establishing my life right now, and that there are things about myself that I do not fully comprehend, but what I can tell you is that being alone is not sad. Loneliness is inherently exclusive, and strands the social mind on an island with one palm tree on it. There is a choice, because companionship is risky, but can be very rewarding if the proper steps are taken to ensure a successful outcome. Information is the currency in which trust is traded. And from that transaction does respect accrue. But these things do not happen in a flash (I am learning), they build up, brick by brick, until something formidable has been constructed. A bastion that is hard to obliterate because it was so meticulously assembled. Part of my regret comes from giving away all my trust to someone who would eventually knock my tower down and set fire to the rubble. The thing I had tried to build was not valuable then, but I know that is changing now.

Today Amanda looked at me with those beautiful eyes and told me the secrets that were her feelings. She held my arm and nuzzled me, kissed me, held my hand, and connected with me in all ways that two people exploring each other can. I feel more bonded to her than ever before. We do lead busy, independent lives, but in these sacred pauses to the routine, we accelerate the process by which we come to better understand each other. Today was a day filled with hope and promise. There is still plenty of work to be done, but it is gladly and enthusiastically undertaken. She has been ridiculed and treated dishonorably in the past, and I don’t see how anyone who gets to know her could have done that. There’s a new sheriff in town (needless to say).

It has been an exceptional day, taking my spirits to new unanticipated heights. I realize if only really technically been on the market for a short time (relatively), but I have examined myself thoroughly in that time and have drawn up many diagrams and made several key changes. Now that I am discovering love again, I feel more ready to go through it than I ever have before. I’ve never given my feelings the level of scrutiny and analysis that I am now. Never. I have trusted quickly and acted impulsively. These patterns are not repeating themselves with Amanda.

We have known each other for 33 days, and this journey is just starting. I am intent on walking a path towards commitment. When we get there is another matter entirely. The slower, steadier, and smoother, the better.

Goodnight blog. The scent of her hangs on me like a delicate robe, and so she guides me to rest.

Keep Your Head Down

Today I continued working with the insanity of a frothy rabid squirrel. Or something approximate to that. In truth, the day seemed to go roaring by because I kept myself busy in Kana (help ticketing system), and also answered as many incoming calls as were thrown my way. It was light in the queues, as I may have fielded less than 20. The rest in my log were all outgoing calls I made following up on those tickets I mentioned. I managed to knock out another four of them, meanwhile, no one else did a single one. It’s a shame that the attitude in the office is to do as little as possible and still get paid for it. Dom was his usual idiot self, and putting himself in a worktime mode so he could gossip about shoes and not have to take an incoming call. Chap was (again) failing to communicate to people, repeating the same dumb things he always says, and sounding completely unenthusiastic about his lot. This is the sad state of rampant ineptitude that permeates my office.

On a tangential note: I have signed up to go get my ass kicked at paintball in the next few weeks. I’m not sure if it will actually happen, but I’ve never done it before and would like to try. I know it hurts, and I’m a massive target, so I will likely be hit a lot, but this is a great chance to create a bond and form a reputation that will earn me respect. I know it’s somewhat trivial, but this seems to be my chance to become the subject of many stories, legends even. We shall see if it becomes a reality.

I have also been texting with Amanda all day, or as often as breaks permit. I am finding that my trust and respect for her continues to grow as we get to know each other better. I’m feeling some big things inside me, pieces that are clicking together, becoming something much greater. I care for her profoundly, and I know she is fond of me. We could make an excellent team in life and love, because it is daunting to face the cold world alone (with no one covering your back). Things are headed in a good direction, and there are still many more steps to take.

Well, I’ve had a busy, blurry day. I’m glad that it is over, and tomorrow I have therapy with Margaret. I have lots to talk about.

Both

I have been unfair in my presentation of my feelings for Amanda. There is much more to this relationship than I have indicated. I know I feel profoundly for her, but even though I have not met him, I care for her son too. He is a boy growing up in a fractured parental structure, and from what I have gleaned, he may not have a strong male role model in his life. This is where I come in: a confidant, friendly man who has only to lead by the example of consistency to be a boon in his life. I can do so much just by being there, playing with him, laughing with him, and being the father he should have had. If I’m really serious about falling for Amanda, I should also love her son like he was my own.

I’m a wonderful example of an atypical male who can be both strong and compassionate. I have an extensive history of bonding and befriending children of all ages. I used to tell the kids at the Boys & Girls Club (where I worked) that I had a private rocket ship that would take me on a trip to the mall on the moon, where all sorts of neat things could be found. I told them all about the amazing toys that were up there, and one day, I brought one back. It was a bouncy ball that started off one color, but the more you bounced it the faster it would change into a new color. Which was all true. But the kids lost the ball on the roof before they could get it to change color, and soon they had moved on to the next interesting thing (much the way children do). This was one of my many stories, and the kids looked at me like a big brother. They respected me when I asked them to do something. They listened when I had words to say. I have the capabilities inside me already to be a great friend, a trusted ally and as close to a father as I can manage.

It is important that this be clear: I’m in this all the way. Not just for Amanda, and never to divide her attention away from the most important person in her life. I just want to help him grow, and show him that with love he can feel safe and have someone to look up to. I have not forgotten Tristan amidst the sum of emotions I feel for Amanda. It is a role I am more than willing to accept.

So blog, I have been unfair to you: I have shown you only the new growth of passion I feel for Amanda. I feel it too for her son. He is not forgotten, and will be someone I greatly look forward to knowing. I hope this brief memorandum states the viability of my intentions clearly. I want them both in my life. The end.

Testament Of Respect

I’ve been a fool in the past, often committing myself to situations that warranted a much deeper level of understanding than they were given. I never offered myself the chance to know my partners, and the differences that arose once sturdy bridges had been built caused me a great deal of suffering. I have vowed not to repeat these same transgressions.

I’m thinking about Amanda, and the way she has accepted me, flaws and all. I have laid some seriously pungent history on her, and in return she has kissed me. I don’t know what to say, I’m surprised that she can still see who I am despite all the emotional crime I have perpetrated. I try so hard to live a life I can be proud of, that I often wonder if it will ever be enough to equalize the sins of my past. I’ve hurt so many, made so many fatal mistakes, even taken my life for granted and tried to throw it away. I don’t know why I deserve a person like Amanda.

But truly I am a being bound to the doctrine of forgiveness, and held upright by an unending desire to grow. I face myself in the mirror, and I look at the man I am, and I feel proud of him. I’m not discounting what I have done, but I am forgiving myself. I must. I need to be unencumbered by my mistakes in order to blossom as a new person. If I was stuck beating myself down over two divorces and three people I loved all driven away from me forever, how could I grow into pride again?

Amanda reminds me that I am a creature of change, and that my story is still being written. I have the choice to continue on and represent myself in the world, or I can spiral down and implode into nothing. The decision has always been mine, and now I strive for a life I can feel proud of. I don’t do this for her, I do it for me, because I am the only one I have any control over. I choose how I want to be; no one else can decide that for me. Can I rise to the occasion?

I think I am making progress as a person. I really do like who I am, heavy luggage and all. I have failed to learn enough from my past partners before offering them my unconditional love. I gave it out to whoever showed some interest, and that has led to consecutive failure. I will not do that again. I have grown from the boy who loved so blindly, to the man who thinks so clearly. I deserve that, and it is out of respect to Amanda that I am reserved, because I really do want to build something that lasts with her, and I would squander that chance by hurrying us along to a place we are still climbing up to. Time is the great spectator, watching events unfold: will we burn up like paper in fire, or will we glow like embers? The choice is ours.

So peace be with you on your journey. I am resting assured that my heart is singing the song of infatuation, while hardened by the respect of longevity. I will not ruin this beautiful thing I am making with Amanda. I will be strong. I will be true. Goodnight.

Fortunate

I’m glad to have something really uninhibitedly positive emanating from my life. This is the result of the application of a little proactive courage, as I have pushed myself to address the lonely place in my heart with some kind of action. I was having such a hard time tearing myself away from the sadness; a natural side-effect of extended isolation. Now, it’s not like I was suffering all the time or whatever. That’s not the case. I was doing fine, but not 100%. I knew my life was missing something, and friendship is the beginning of that gap being bridged. I could have proceeded with my life much the way it was, with me going to work and grinding for my pay and coming home to an empty, cold house every night. But that kind of life does not foster an escalation of happiness, instead, it presents me with a routine that I follow in order to stay alive. I yearn for something more than just stability.

This morning, I am drinking my coffee with a smile on my face. I am very pleased that tonight, after work, I will be meeting up with Amanda at Starbucks to give her the Diablo II battlechest I purchased for myself by mistake. I tried to cancel the order, but it had already been boxed and labeled for shipment, so there was no going back. It worked out well though: Amanda was going to have to go to a retail store to find it, and I doubt that would have ended in immediate success. The game has been out for more than 10 years… it’s not something you can just pull off the shelf of any old store and expect them to have it. Now, however, things are lined up. We will be gaming at night during the week and having fun slaughtering the endless minions of Diablo as they infest the realm of Sanctuary. To victory!

So I’ve got some things to look forward to. I’m not sure if we will be gaming tonight, because it will be close to bed-time before I get back to the house and eat dinner. We are also going to connect via Skype, which should be good. I will really enjoy having someone to talk to about game stuff.

Blog, I must be clear: I’m not thinking that this road will expedite my journey back to love, but rather, has presented me with a chance to get to know someone better, and relate to another human being on a deep level. I can’t say where this path goes, I mean, can I see the future now all of a sudden? I am open to whatever logical, healthy processes occur as a result of this interaction, but I don’t have any expectations, and I don’t have all of my eggs in one basket. If this goes away, I will still have the confidence I gained from starting this journey to find someone to be in my life, and that will not dissipate. I am sure that I can find a friend, even if Amanda (however optimistic I am about it) doesn’t fit into my life for whatever reason. I have been talking to myself over the last few days, so that I can be aware that there are possibilities for me regardless of what transpires between she and I. There is no reason for me to bet it all (again) on someone so early on into the interaction. Or at all, even if the thing does seem like a lock. I am not going to fall into the trap of setting myself up to repeat the same mistakes I have made in my past. I have grown and learned from that time, and I will be a better steward of my life.

 

Have a great day blog. I’m waling out the door with a grin from ear to ear. I can’t help but be happy right now. I have good feelings prancing about in my heart, and my sorrow is far away from the forefront of my mind. May your day be awesome!

Reveal

Part of getting to know someone is the process of unpacking your past so that they can better understand your life and tribulations. I’m going through this with Amanda, and since I have so much mud on my shoes (so to speak) I’m nervous about it. What if she rejects me? Things are moving along so nicely, could the stark truth of my past bring an end to that?

It seems though, that we have more things in common than we do major differences of opinion and circumstance. We both had similar upbringings being someone with a mental illness being raised by someone (also) with a mental illness. We have both endured bullying at school, but hers because she was always the more mature “new kid” on the scene. Mine was just because I was truly different, odd, perplexing and random. And kids enjoy a general sense of conformity, which is what seems to be the norm for them. Anything outside the umbrella is ridiculed and hated, and so was I. I skipped 6th grade so that I could get away from those kids, and move on to a better circumstance with my peers in a new grade, new scene, new try.

 

But I’m still afraid that she will frown on me for having been divorced twice, but I’m also not going to hide the truth from her. Anything I build here must be forged on the anvil of honesty, and that is the driving goal behind all my actions in this regard. I do not want a repeat of the past, so what better a way to assure that than to make the past public knowledge? I can’t think of a way that spins me as doing the wrong thing here. If there is going to be any future between Amanda and I, it will have to be built on truth.

 

I’ll keep you updated as to the outcome of my reveal.

Outcome = understanding and honest acceptance. We continue to be very relatable to each other, and our conversation is becoming more real, and less experimental. We are connecting on some very fundamental levels. I’m really ecstatic about this. I’m headed in such a positive direction now, better than I have had in a long time.

**UPDATE 1:00 pm**

I’m feeling great today. Talking about hard stuff and being accepted despite that is really amazing. I feel a genuine connection to Amanda, one that gives me a lot of hope for the future. I don’t know where this road I’m walking will lead, but I am excited to be taking steps to help myself live a better life. One that I can feel proud of and comforted by. This world is hard and quite unforgiving at times. To have a genuine connection with someone willing to see who you are is quite extraordinary. I’m having fun with it, and everything we’ve shared so far leads me to believe more good things are lying in wait.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

It’s another Monday and I’m here before work writing another check-in post. I had really sad dreams last night, even though I can’t clearly remember what they were about. I know that someone I loved was gone, and I was trying to find a way to get them back but it was not possible. I woke up feeling off, and I haven’t felt right all morning. I actually feel vaguely stomach sick but I got myself to work anyway. I contemplated calling in, but nah. I don’t have a good reason to stay.

My weekend was both exhausting and rewarding. We totally unpacked the storage unit on Saturday and took two truckloads of stuff to goodwill and another truckload to the dump. We also set the rock tumblers going on the bounty of agates and chalcedony Moo found while visiting the north coast of California. So I will now have a regular obligation to go down there on Saturday and change the grit over the next 3 weekends. But in that time, those rocks will be renovated and beautiful. They are some of the best agates I’ve ever seen, and jasper of varying colors. Truly great loads. And soon we will see their buried secrets underneath all that pitting and weathering.

In fantasy football news, the playoffs started for me in the family league. Each round of the playoffs is two weeks long, so one must win two weeks in a row to advance to the final. I haven’t been able to put two wins together all year. But last week I beat my cousin Jessica to make it to the postseason, and this week, I built a 58 point lead and my opponent still has one player going (Julio Jones). This will likely reduce my lead to 20 or so. He’s a dynamite WR and I fear him. He’s probably not going to cover the margin, but he will cover most of it. In the work league I’ve rattled of 11 in a row now and just overcame a huge 100 point deficit on Thursday night to win by 33. I had AJ Green on both teams, who exploded for 11catches, 224 yards and a touchdown. In my work league he was worth 42 points.

All told I’m doing fine. I feel a bit off today, but I’ll probably get over it. My muscles are sore from all the insane work I did on Saturday. I was going to exercise but I’m in pain and will wait until I am not in pain to do my thing. I got a workout mat out of storage and a medicine ball too. I’m in good shape to get in better shape. Lol.

Have a good day, and happy Monday.

**UPDATE 1:30 pm**

I’m on lunch. I’ve been training on Mbox and the ticketing system we use to keep track of tasks all morning. The time has really zoomed by. I’m pretty tired still, and somehow chemically not right. I’m straining to keep with it, but I am and will. I’m hoping that I survive the night in fantasy football. I’d rather have a lead going into week 2 than not. Duh. But hanging in there.

It Begins Anew

It’s Monday morning and I’m about ready to walk into work. It was a nice weekend, not too hectic, not too boring. I got over the emotional wear and tear of the week pretty fast, and feel very well rested and content. That dream I had last night was so insane I had to stop everything and write about it. I guess my very fiction-oriented mind can create multiple tangents of strange logic and twisted storytelling for me to follow. I’ve had vivid dreams like that before. Sometimes I feel like I glimpse the core of some distant truth in those nightly adventures, but having no way to substantiate my dreams, I tend to just let them go.

I have a positive outlook on my week. I’m in a good frame of mind to (no doubt) be posed new challenges both mental and emotional. Also, I get to go shopping for myself sometime this week, though it’s really only breakfast and lunch stuff I need. I have a massive amount of frozen meat to go through before I’m officially “out” of things to eat. My healthy living log should come in handy when the time comes. Probably after work sometime this week.

I hope you had a nice weekend. I went 2-0 in my fantasy football leagues this week, bumping my work record to 7-1 and pulling myself back up to .500 in the family league at 4-4. I’m currently the 4th seed if the playoffs started today. Next week I might be getting A.J. Green back which would be a huge boost to my potential. And Megatron will be back for weeks 10-17, just in time for the postseason push. I know the World Series is happening but I could really care less about baseball. It’s a one-dimensional sport, and not nearly as exciting as the NFL.

I hope you all have a good week as well. I’m bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready for calamity to strike me back into humility. Yorf.

**UPDATE 3:40 pm**

What a zooming day. I’m already here? Really? I feel like I just got here. I’ve been highly productive today. I published more tasks to Oracle than I ever have before in one sitting, and I did it all right. As far as I can tell. Hope your day doesn’t make your head spin off its axis. Bai.

The Flight Of The Navigator

I’ve had the most amazing dream. At first there were four of us, and we were all friends somehow before the visitors made their first appearance. I think maybe we were never intended to know the truth. Aliens from another world, another time saw us though. We felt them. But time passed after the first encounter. I tried to convince Jax that we had to do everything we could to get back to them. We had to pack up our lives and go back to find them at whatever cost. One of the original four was devious and a cheat, and he wanted to exploit as his primary objective, so they shut off his kidneys and let his body die. Jax fought with me, said I was ruining our life, and she yelled that she hated me. A literal chasm developed in the floor of our bedroom, and I took what I needed and fled to the woods. She came looking for me, but only to get more angry with me. She killed herself instead of coming with me to find answers.

So there were only three of us, and we worked together in a high security facility somehow connected to the first encounter. We used our access to gather clues. I was determined to face the visitors again. And on that final night, we executed our plan to go back to the rendezvous point. And the authorities were closing in, knowing too late what we were up to. They were waiting for us. And just before we were captured, they took us with them in their silver spaceship.

I get the feeling this being had taken a liking to us, and interactions between us and the visitors were hallucinated scenes, sometimes another traveler in an recognizable barren desert, sometimes just a voice or strange objects which seemed to defy reason. Like glass that melts in your hand like water. Or vials filled with fluid with strange words printed on them. But we all were onboard their ship traveling to who knows where. There was difficulty, since the gulf of understanding between our two beings was so vast, we got the feeling that we would never be able to directly interface with our hosts. Time has no meaning to them. They can move into any parallel reality, on a whim.

The alien who had taken the three of us had then been ordered to put us back. So they dropped us into an ideal reality, one where we would want for nothing. But I couldn’t stay there, not after having touched the edge of understanding. I questioned that reality they put me in. I begged to be taken back. We all did. Our minds were open now, and we didn’t belong back in a closed world. I saw my friends again back on the silver spaceship. We talked some about what we had each seen. Then they began to age before my eyes, their bodies were moving in an out of time and space. I watched them blend into one being, who I knew then to be our host, and I finally had my chance to ask him questions. It was clear we could not be put back on Earth. We didn’t belong there anymore. Something about seeing these aliens had changed us forever. There was only the vast unknown of the universe stretching out before us. And we were all going out into that vast unknown together. With a benevolent guide who was just as fascinated by us as we were by him. We headed out into the stars, together.

My dream ended there.

Crispy Critter

So the night was rather eventful. A screech owl decided that 2:47 am was a great time to make a bunch of noise. I checked my phone really only because I was hoping it would be close to sunrise. Wrong. Sometime after that, I was again alerted by the sound of very loud snoring from some distant campsite. So unreasonably loud. I can’t even imagine the dozens of people who would have (no doubt) been perturbed by this onslaught of auditory interference. I was hundreds of feet from the source, and it still got my attention. All those shenanigans, plus the unforgiving earth caused various parts of my body to fall asleep and get so tingly that I was forced awake on multiple uncomfortable occasions. Ok, camping rant over.

On the bright side, I had my own tent which was easy to set up, and faster to take down. The air was awesomely fresh and the stars were phenomenally clear and bright so far from city light pollution. I did have a fun time out there. It’s still a shock to see the lake had almost completely vanished. The last time I was there, maybe 10 years ago, the terrain was vastly different. The first few RV hookup sites were all lakefront. Now, there’s no water anywhere in sight of the campgrounds. It must be pooled up at the base of the dam, harboring some truly foul level of mud and dead fish. I bet all the bass are gone, with a catfish or two making up the remnants of a once diverse aquatic ecosystem. This drought has clearly taken a toll on our local landscape. Sad, but also largely out of our hands.

I’m in bed pretty early tonight. I’m just so very tired blog, and was so eager to climb into my comfortable snuggle place. I am relieved to be on my mattress. Grateful even. Thank that guy who invented the mattress. Brilliant.

It’s the start of another work week, and this will be my last week receiving an Eastridge paycheck. On the 20th, we officially start as full time employees of Mood Media. The raise was just perfect, and set me squarely on the path to self-sustaining independent life. I’ve never before been so unwaveringly sure of my future, now that it is squarely in my control. I’m the master of my domain, the presidential decider of my fate. I feel both gratified and confident. No one else can derail this but me. And I’m all I need to count on.

I hope you all had fun with your weekend, as I did (more or less). I did get a little drunk, which also helped me sleep. Good timing.

Welcome Home Me!

I made it to my new digs blog. I’ve unpacked (90%) and am now enjoying my first evening in my own little apartment! I have a 1 bedroom unit on the hill in lovely Spring Valley, where I will be residing permanently for the foreseeable future (which I’m hoping, is a really long time). I like the people here, and I like that I’m not in a giant complex with dozens of other tenants. this is a 4 unit house, in which I am in a fully independent apartment nestled under the main house, which is built back up into the hills. I can tell you honestly that this is the greatest little place I’ve ever tried to call my own. It is the perfect size, has nice amenities and has good landowners. I just know I’m going to have a good time here. I can tell already, with how quickly we all executed the move itself, how little time it has taken me to unpack, how wonderfully I’m enjoying not having to live outside an RV anymore.

 

I was going to post some pictures, but things are not “picture ready” quite yet. I’m still dealing with some loose items, thingies that have to be put away or altogether taken away. I have some rolled packing elastic laying around, some miscellaneous items here and there. But like I said in the intro, we’re like 90% there. I’ll be putting the finishing touches on this Sunday, and I will have my TV hooked up as well. Sweet, right?

 

So goodbye for now. I’m ecstatic, and living it up in my own place! Hooray!

Lone Bull Project, you have taken a huge leap forward in making your 1 year goal! way to go!

An Off Day

I needed one, after I woke myself to the awareness of being dejected, drained, empty and alone. It seemed like the weekend never actually recharged me, never actually gave me back any energy to continue on with the week. I awoke to the strange feeling of being heartbroken all over again, crushed and otherwise cast down in shame. It’s not that I did anything to deserve this. I helped my parents sort out their anger issues with each other on Sunday, and guided them to a  resolution of a conflict within my little family unit. I thought I was rather the hero, but I guess these things take unseen tolls. I was drained of my emotional security, and fell prey to nasty thoughts right away. I was devastated this morning, and crying because all the bad stuff was coming back at me. I couldn’t keep it away. I had a hard time articulating anything, and I quickly came to the determination to help myself out of this state. I called in today, and regretfully found myself incapable of the job required of me. So much for my outgoing personality and my exuberance. It got eaten by the darkness today. As is sometimes the case when the mind is under duress. It’s my last 4 days here. Then I’m moving in to my new house, which I am very excited about to be truthful. And scared. Because I’ve failed SO MANY TIMES at life, and I’ve tried to throw this thing together before and lost it. I am keenly aware of my shortcomings, and trying my hardest to avoid disaster. Some days the boogey man wins, and he gets to lord it over me that I have no fight left to stop him. And sometimes this is the way of things, but it never lasts. It is always sunset over the empire of sadness. I make my way through this life as best I can figure. It just hurts sometimes.

**Update 11:06 am**

I’d be taking my first break right about now. I feel let-down by my poor mental state of being, I feel disappointed in myself, but I know that’s just going to make it worse. I have to get sick, like anybody gets sick and can’t perform the responsibilities of his or her job from time to time. My illness necessitates action, and I vastly prefer to have the freedom to chose wisely rather than be so desperate that I have to crunch-down and endure regardless of circumstance. I let myself recover as I should, in order to be back sooner, rather than exacerbating a small issue and potentially rendering myself useless for a longer period of time. I want to maximize my success, and sometimes you need a day to reconsider things. I’ve been in such haste to get to this point, but have I ever stopped to consider just how lonely I might get? Or how I will truly have not another person to talk to about my day, my adventures, my missteps. It’s not like the property owners are going to want to hear about my day, regardless of how nice and fun they are. It’s not their place to be the recipients of knowledge of that nature. I will keep a lot of things pretty much to myself, and my mental health is surely one of  them. I long for stability, but that means I will be fending for myself, by myself. I got a little boost from dad in the bank account department, which was nice. It all helps me in a small way, get to a bigger goal. And I want nothing more than to meet my challenges head-on and overcome them. I know I can. I suffer in some moments, I reign victorious in others. Thus is the way of the bipolar roller-coaster.

Shiny Apple

So blog, I’ve been a busy little bee. I made two awesome new friends. Julie and Saskia. I have met both through OkCupid, and they have been engaging and fun in long-term conversations that have been both enlightening and fruitful. I’m learning two new people, and sharing my troubling little story, which Is a sad one at times, but I think it’s somewhat therapeutic to interact with people and talk with them about their lives. I mean, I’m not in a position to go out and get in a relationship AT ALL. Remember the Lone Bull Project? I haven’t given up on my long term goal of full independence, and established stability. I am not there yet folks. There’s still a ways to go yet. I have made some awesome progress, mind you. And I have not forgotten about any of the steps I have taken so far to get to where I am… which I’d say is like 65% of the way there. I’m getting closer every day. TODAY at work Dave took us aside and told us he was looking forward to having us hired as full time employees of Mood Media. I had to pipe up and say SOMETHING. I grabbed the fucking mic and told Dave, straight up, that we were looking forward, ALL OF US (and there were like 10 people in that room), to joining the team, and we still felt like we were part of the team because of the months of work we’ve already put in. But it would be fucking sweet to have one of those ID badges that open the back door. And my name above my desk. Boom. So It’s going to happen, Dave said he submitted the request to keep us to corporate. It’s up to them to say how many of us can stay. I must surely be the first one they are going to consider keeping. I’m fucking spotless. Shit never comes back at me. EVER. Fucking every other new hire there has dealt with blow-back from angry internal departments. Not I. I get friendly email replies all the time, thanking me, or asking me for additional information. Or even to check my damn price list. People just love making up reasons to call Westin. It’s great. I am highly appreciated there. So, I have that sort of RAD finish to the day, and Saskia and I have been chatting all week, and that’s been just so much fun. It’s nice to make a friend. A person I can relate to, who comprehends my plight, my life, my persona in some way. That’s recognition, respect, trust, the valuable attributes. I’m not going to relationshiptown. Not for a long long time. Not until my personal salvation project has run it’s course. So things are great blog. Happy Friday. Peace.

New Playlist – The Curse Of The Twisted Muse

I’m a scatterbrained monkey of volatile passions and mixed emotional responses. I think about people, events, time. All the cosmic possibilities. Asteroids, the ocean, the Pacific tectonic plate. I pile that all into one wacky mood roller coaster of up, down, flat, down up up skyward! You won’t ever know how I was feeling until you listen to it!

 

  1. On The Road To Find Out – Cat Stevens
  2. Hypnotized – Fleetwood Mac
  3. Freedom 90 – George Michael
  4. Listen Like Thieves – INXS
  5. Just Like Heaven – The Cure
  6. My Best Friend’s Girl – The Cars
  7. Photograph – Def Leppard
  8. No Alibis – Eric Clapton
  9. Another Girl – The Beatles
  10. Ride My See-Saw – The Moody Blues
  11. You Really Got Me – Van Halen
  12. Boogie Wonderland – Earth, Wind & Fire
  13. If This Is It – Huey Lewis & The News
  14. Time Out Of Mind – Steely Dan
  15. Sunshine In The Shade – The Fixx
  16. Levon – Elton John
  17. Tomorrow – Joe Walsh
  18. Reminiscing – Little River Band
  19. End Of The Line – Traveling Wilburys

For Megan: Introduction In Music

I’ve decided to put together this playlist to encapsulate my current state of mind as a music playlist. I do this so that anyone bumping in to this might gather a better understanding about where I am in my head, and in my heart. So it’s full of ups and downs, naturally, and very tweaky. If that makes any sense.

 

  1. Gaucho – Steely Dan
  2. Question – The Moody Blues
  3. The Sign Of Fire – The FIxx
  4. Cherry Bomb – John Mellencamp
  5. Come Undone – Duran Duran
  6. Since You’re Gone – The Cars
  7. Stop Loving You – Toto
  8. Helplessly Hoping – Crosby, Stills & Nash
  9. Time – The Alan Parsons Project
  10. The Heart Of The Matter – Don Henley
  11. The Boxer – Simon & Garfunkel
  12. Won’t Get Fooled Again – The Who
  13. If I Fell – The Beatles
  14. Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song) – Billy Joel
  15. Harmony – Elton John
  16. You’re The Inspiration – Chicago
  17. Wild Sex (In The Working Class) – Oingo Boingo
  18. You Make My Dreams – Hall & Oates

It’s Like That

When things seem like they’re really clicking in my head and things are feeling right. I find words come so easy with Megan. I’m just inclined to share the complexities of my strange little tale with someone who acutely understands how precarious those stories can become. Nothing is like how we plan it, life takes the reigns and guides the whole thing a brand new direction every so often. But there’s something happening here that I like. I’m really coming out of my shell for her, and I find I linger waiting for her words, holding the breath of my thoughts.

It’s not out of nervousness or anxiety, but rather, she always comes at me with some new cool perspective or interest. Yesterday, I was trying to help her identify a caterpillar. I mean right? Who wouldn’t be excited about that?

Chance is pretty incomprehensible. In my opinion, We leave a lot of the deciding in out lives up to chance, or expect chance to bail us out of a bad situation. What if I hadn’t become mentally ill with Jax? Would I still be with her, or would it have come unraveled at some future juncture when there was ample opportunity? See, she was leaving her decision to divorce me up to chance, and the chance that I would break down and give her the opportunity to flee. She gambled and won, in that sense, and got out of her life with me and got what she wanted. Meanwhile, back over here where I thought we were going to be a team…

 

I’ve been lied to before. I mean, sure we may have loved each other. I won’t argue that. But I will argue that her intentions were never the same as mine, and even our partnership being contracted by marriage was not an anchor that would keep her concentrating on making the relationship better. I was willing to do the work, as I have always been. But when my partner does not want to change, learn, grow, or admit responsibility for actions, then we have no more to discuss. It’s a hopeless enterprise to get someone to change who won’t see themselves from an unbiased perspective. I try to hold the mirror up to myself, and I fail at catching a lot of things, but that’s what your friends and family are for, right? those other people that are a part of a family unit? One that she so willingly signed up to join, and so carelessly, callously, disregarded at a moments notice. I bring me, my edge, my antics, my personality, AND a killer family that loves profusely and with the same sort of exuberance that makes ME so special. I learn from the best.

 

All these thoughts are zooming around now. Things with Megan are just great. I hope we get to keep talking and getting to know each other, because I’m having a lot of fun at that. I appreciate the moments I’ve had with her, because I recognize her as one of those rare special people, who stands out amongst the others because her filter on the world is unbiased and real. I just admire her point of view and her perspective, I really do. She stands out as an intellectual, asking deeper than surface-level questions, questions that have true potential for deep, open-ended responses. I imagine soon we’ll be talking about Astronomy. Fuck. I did mean to bring up the latest Curiosity info for her and have that be the starting point for discussion. There’s plenty of time for all of that. The mission is a long ways from over. Fuck homes, we’re not even to Mt. Sharp yet. THAT’S when it gets real, dude.

 

I can’t complain. Things are rolling along exceptionally well. I’m stable at work and just getting ready to get into a groove. A good thing, surely. And that I enjoy what I’m doing helps. I wish only for a continued stability of life and circumstance, leading me towards a healthy and satisfactory way of living my little reality. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. I’m not going out to do anything wrong. I’m keeping my arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. If something extra happens on to of that, I welcome it. Friendships are always a blessing when they are based on mutual respect. I think that’s what I have here, and I like it very much.

Why Should I Cry For You – Sting

Under the dog star sail.
Over the reefs of moonshine.
Under the skies of fall.
North, north west, the Stones of Faroe.

Under the Arctic fire.
Over the seas of silence.
Hauling on frozen ropes–
For all my days remaining.
But would north be true?

All colors bleed to red.
Asleep on the ocean’s bed.
Drifting on empty seas–
For all my days remaining.

But would north be true?
Why should I?
Why should I cry for you?
Dark angels follow me–
Over a godless sea.
Mountains of endless falling,
For all my days remaining,

What would be true?

Sometimes I see your face–
The stars seem to lose their place.
Why must I think of you?
Why must I?
Why should I?
Why should I cry for you?
Why would you want me to?
And what would it mean to say,
That, “I loved you in my fashion”?

What would be true?
Why should I?
Why should I cry for you?

Trying Something Totally New

I have not been looking for people to meet despite my suffering for companionship. I really think there was something good there with my friend Jacqueline, but I just couldn’t handle the physical part. It was too much for my fragile state. I don’t think I’m much farther along in that department, then to now. I’m not prepared to commit to a physical, intimate, demanding arrangement. Especially not since I don’t even know how much energy I have to maintain my life and responsibilities… I shouldn’t be too hasty taking on more of a burden. I’m, nevertheless, going to still try and meet new people. I’ve started a new OkCupid account and I’m going to try and be real with people, and see where it gets me. I think I can make SOME form of new connection, that might help to stem the flow of aching sadness I feel being so isolated and regrettably unwanted. I don’t think it’s universally true that these sorts of connections must end in companionship. Albeit, I am, in a sense, not looking to “mess around” anymore, and would consider something that had all the right pieces. But the chance of finding that are micro-cosmically low. My satisfaction rides on high standards. I’ve tried compromising my beliefs, and pandering to lesser ways, and I’ve ruined my life over it. I’m not going to do that again. If the pieces line up, then I’m going for it, because the possibility would need to result in the last relationship I get involved in. THE VERY LAST. I’m not fucking kidding, I can’t go through the level of pain I went through like last time. I’m going to be healing from that for months yet. Because the hurt is still so real, so fresh, so deep. I want to move beyond that sadness, which I feel is amplified by my isolation.

 

So I’m giving it a try, because I can’t go on alone forever. I have to be proactive about dealing with this pain, which is starting to get the better of me. I’m falling prey to spasms of nearly unstoppable suffering and a want to shed my tears and weep. At work. On the clock.

 

See why I can’t have this? I’m doing great out here on my own. I’m a matter of weeks from signing papers and locking up a place of my own. I just went and saw it today, and boy can I ever imagine myself up in there. It’s a perfect size for me, and just enough home to feel at home in. If that makes any sense. It doesn’t feel like a hotel room, it feels like my house.

 

I’m spinning the wheel. Isn’t that what us mentally ill people do? We’re never just happy being with one thing, settling down to a programmed, monotonous way of life. I live in a mercurial state, and I have to be understood for who I am in order to achieve any sort of friendship ion this life. I don’t want to be alone forever. I hope you out there can understand my thinking here. I’m not openly disclosing my mental illness, because I don’t identify myself as a patient of my disorder anymore. My disability is treatable, and when managed responsibly, is unnoticeable. I want to meet someone who doesn’t get repelled by a foul stigma, but rather, identifies who I am first, and accepts my flaws for what they are as part of the process of understanding. And I hers, as we are not perfect beings, but fractured and full of diverse aspects. We are lucky if we ever truly find harmony in life… a thing I desperately seek. Maybe you’re out there somewhere?

Little Wrinkles My Brain Has Made

It’s going to be a long yet surprisingly active week for me. I’m learning the company’s software platform and it’s arduous, as all proprietary software is just that. It’s slow, cripplingly slow going for some of my coworkers, who are really starting to get the reality check I for so long had anticipated they would. Laurel, our instructor, is not like my supervisor at all. He’s a laid back kinda dude guy bro buddy pal. She’s here on the company dime to teach us a skill in 10 days and it is imperative we learn it. Some of us are already on that path, some are not. This process ends in a test, so it’s not like half-assing it is going to cut it this time. My teaching tools are useless here, where everything is scripted and the curriculum lasts only as long as there is material to dispense. I admire Laurel for having the right attitude. That room does not agree with her though, and that makes me sad. She’s going to have enemies, if she doesn’t already. And who knows if these employees are even going to stick with the company. They seem like a lot of freeloaders looking to cash some checks and get away with doing as little as possible. If they don’t have the “run in with the law” now, it will just happen at some point down the road. Justice is survival, frankly. I’ve already seen my coworkers looking for ridiculous ways to spend the money they make, on Alienware brand computers and other nonsensical horeseshit. I don’t understand you people. You squander your greatest resource, your mind, just like you do your money. I truly feel sorry for you, because I’M YOUR COMPETITION, not your friend. I’m going to set the curve on that exam, you’d better believe it. And no I don’t care about the most recent Transformers movie, or it’s motifs. Wait… you wanted to talk about motifs? Get the fuck out.

So not to natter on about troubling signs at work, but I just had to get all that off my chest. I’ve been in there for three weeks, and I try not to be a part of the conversation too much. No one really wants to talk to me anyway. I have interests that go above and beyond the average hooligan’s aspirations. I think about time, astronomy, the patterns of weather, the pacific tectonic plate, and so on. No one gives a shit about my abstract thoughts. Frankly, every time I do manage to talk about something relevant, like PC games, I’m still not playing a game anyone has ever played, nor would even want to play. To them, RTS isn’t fun, it’s stressful, and stupid. Somehow. Actually I find the more an intellectual you are, the more likely you are to play a game like Dawn of War: Soulstorm. I come from a small percentile… I’m keenly aware of this. I go through the day learning things, absorbing as is my job, and keeping all these secret little message thoughts tucked away for the evening when I can come home and rant!

Well, regardless. I’m writing out my thoughts that on one in my whole day gets to hear, save YOU GUYS.

I’m doing great though. I can’t abide the absenteeism of the mind that goes on during my day. I have to vent somewhere. I have to have a safe place where I can go and have big intellectual thoughts and ponder all sorts of things. Fuck, I was curious why the Salton Sea stays full in the Imperial County desert… turns out, it was created on accident by people, and is so far below sea level that it taps natural groundwater and stays solvent. Even with no run off and hardly enough rainfall, it maintains as California’s largest lake. Bet you didn’t know that 10 seconds ago.

 

 

Time Of Life

I’ll bend your ear for a minute, if you give me a chance to whisper. I’ve got a handful of good jokes and a ton of miscellaneous science knowledge. When in doubt, use a metaphor!

Life is not meant to be spent meandering. It’s an active exercise in coordination followed by lots of driving. I find myself stumbling across these sentences. Perhaps there is more to the thought than we are capable of perceiving. I mean, without a side tone, how would we ever be able to talk to each other on the phone? I go apeshit if I can’t hear myself talking. It’s mind numbing not to hear your own voice. It’s like being deprived of your ultimate uniqueness. Which is why I wonder a lot about why so many people are OK with squandering their speech to some rudimentary grunt-based level. I have people in my social circle that basically speak their own language, and I only SORTA get it.

On nights like this, my mind will REFUSE to settle down until I’ve made a great deal of words. I’ve gleaned a bushel of new knowledge from my experiences of late. I think that’s a dutiful practice, the sculpting of the brain. The mind is an ever evolving thing, constantly plagued with our poor decisions and lack of attention paid. The mind is a rotten organ for most, who struggle for language and are limited to immediate experiential perception. This mode is disturbing, because it’s just plain EASY to let your brain deteriorate into mayonnaise. It’s all too common, because having your mind CHALLENGED is a pain in the ass my friend. It’s hard to learn, grow, PROGRESS. These things take a great deal of effort, and the mind is only weak because it is UNDERUSED. It’s a deadly weapon, if sharpened and tempered. But I don’t expect that to be a universal truth. Clearly it is not, because we are so easily, communally swayed by the whims of events, emotions, fleeting fancies. We are sensory based receivers and refuse to adapt because no one is threatening our dominance of existence. People lead privileged, unqualified, unearned lives. I do not.

In fact, my brain is abnormal, because it refuses to conduct messages in my brain across resource depleted synaptic gaps. Things are already hard folks. It’s an uphill battle from hard, to harder, to holy shit the weight of the world is smashing my skull in! I don’t panic easily, thankfully. I can be pretty rational under extreme duress. Often too rational… but that’s a tangent. Anyway, I struggle to survive because I’LL BE DAMNED IF THIS FUCKING ILLNESS WILL KEEP ME DOWN FOREVER. Albeit, things are going to be absurdly difficult from time to time, and I may lose a great many battles, but I refuse to just go away and be eaten by my disease. I can let my mind turn into silly putty if I want, but I don’t want. I’d rather be really, really smart.

And my mind, for all it’s defectatude, is a tremendously creative and original place (as some of you have figured out). I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I’ve fucked up a whole lot… but I’m learning, really learning valuable things from the mistakes I have made. At least, I’m trying. I put a lot of effort into what I do, because I have only one way to represent myself in this world, and if you meet me, you will perceive me in a way that I intend you to. I do not mislead with false demeanor, or construe my objective. I’ll lay it down: this life we live in is a big fucking race, and the people winning the race are the ones who will do ANYTHING to win. You and I aren’t going to compete with them, frankly. But we CAN still strive, like they do, emulating qualities that define, not hinder our morality. My heart tells me to act like I want to be perceived, so, I do that to the best of my ability. I know I’m not going to win at the race of life. I don’t really want to. I’d rather just define myself as a human being, as best I can, and live a life that makes me proud to be me. I do the RIGHT THING every time. Because I won’t betray you, and I’ll sure as hell try to not let you down. I don’t want to be someone of societal relevance, I’d just rather try to figure out how to be me instead.

And I’ve got a lot of work to do still.

Remembering Those Times

When things were so blissful because I was in love. When my heart floated somewhere outside my body, and every day, I felt blessed. I was given a rare privilege, to embark on a life journey with another, and to vow oneself to that final objective. I found out that our ideas about togetherness were different, and our love was expendable. Somewhere back in the mercurial onset of our relationship, I was so very deep in love with you, so very proud and ready for the world. I was not dealing with my own personal stuff, but my life was so good, so happy, that none of it seemed to matter. I know now that it does work in at you, no matter how hard one tries to repress it.

I learned the hard way about myself, and how I need to be cared for. I wasn’t getting the right stuff, in the end, because the whole thing just got so convoluted and distant that it stopped making sense to me why we were still together. I remember thinking about it, but honestly, I knew she made me happy inside, every day, to have her in my life. Even as limited as things became, I still yearned for her affection. Like the way it was when she first came to my town. When we whisked her away from that rotten life she had been stuck in and brought her to a safe place where she could grow. I thought this was the plan, anyway. I wanted to build something with her, and I never took care of my own shit and lost my chance to do that.

I find myself more melancholy after I’ve consumed a great deal of alcohol the day before. I get so sad sometimes, remembering how good it felt to be hugged, loved, squeezed. How deep I was in her, how vital and fun we could be together. The way we were always laughing about something, no matter what it was. Or doing some unexpected, spontaneous, kooked-out thing. It was her originality that I admired, and it’s the driving force behind her creativity, which I know is profitable and still believe every dollar we spent on jewelry supplies was well spent. Never doubt committing resources to the creativity of others.

I guess this is the sad part of being too nostalgic. I get lost in soupy memories of good feelings, where I was stretching to the top of my comprehension of happiness. I remember those good things just as much as the bad, because I know what it’s like to be ecstatic, and I know what it’s like to suffer. This gives me a keen awareness of multiple emotional states. I know that though I may be happy right now, I’d be happier if I were in love with her again. I would be happier if I was doted on, smothered with affection, kissed, held… I don’t deserve any of that, but I certainly know what it was like to have it. I miss it so much sometimes.

Busted

I’m down to the short distance between waking activity and total unconsciousness. I remember times being buzzed like this and having sex with Jax. Sometimes drunk and stoned at the same time. We used to make a regular pilgrimage out to the east county to sit around and chortle. I tried to get out there as much as I could. I knew the bond was important as well as the conversation. I never thought anything of it beyond that. I really just liked the time to socialize and make a merry in the middle of the work week. Most of the time. I remind myself of times where things were awkward or not right, but they were infrequent. Jax would sometimes get “rubbed the wrong way” by my Dad’s gruff demeanor, and this was often a shortsighted assessment. He tends to assume the worst, or, guilty until proven innocent type mentality. She couldn’t see beyond that first layer though. I find myself wondering how well she really knew my family, their way, their natures? I don’t think so, because they reveal themselves as role models for the “imperfect” relationship: where conflict, betrayal and confusion abound. Yet, despite the depths of the depravity, they remained together. Agreeing that love would be impervious to circumstance. They transcend all the peril and trust in the bond of love. The eternal commitment of togetherness. I can think of no better role models for this than them.

But enough about what I had. Now let’s figure out what options I have left: likely barricading myself in a set of uncompromising scruples which will parse out the intellectuals from the chaff. I once hoped my blog would bring me closer to another person who could live with someone like me, but I was wrong. Turns out, we don’t always believe what we say. And promises aren’t meant to be kept.

I find my thoughts ever ebbing around what the future holds for me. I’m unclear as to the specifics of my rise, but I know it’s happening, slowly again. I can lean on my confidence to advance the cause of my career. Sounds like normal person activity to me. Hehe.

Anyway. I’m a bit jumbled up here. I think I’m a Popsicle then bed.

Pre Coffee Thoughts

I’m not big into social media. I’m reluctantly a part of Facebook, but only because my whole family is on there and we shit talk with each other. I’d miss out on those interactions otherwise… and even though I can be stubborn, I will sometimes cave in. But I generally draw the line at this point. My internet profile is pretty low.

But I could, theoretically, have a way to make even my most inane thoughts into massively distributed text transmissions. Even have a way for others to monitor my activity! Hooray?

I find the premise to be flawed. This “service” of message posting and sharing is highly suspect. First, unless it is your JOB in life to be famous and have people pay attention to you, one has no business owning an account. “Hi there, I’m Stoofus and I’ve got some thoughts about shoes.”

Is this really what we’ve stooped to? We now care enough about Joe Nobody to see a live stream of his every thought. I sense that we’re going to be disappointed. No one has THAT many rad thoughts. They probably hire someone to do the posts for them. Probably.

In short: don’t be hasty to deem every passing whim as recordable material. Some of what we think is just rubbish. Some being yet worthwhile. But how many “tweets” am I going to care about? How about none.

I know I’m an atypical individual. I’m generally not amused by what most people are captivated by. I find people to be a somewhat boring subject manner. Ideas are far more compelling and worth discussing. But I must be prepared to be alone in my thoughts and desires. No amount of hoping will ever make the “tweetsick” world any different. Sadly.

Nevertheless. We continue on, while making the pointed observations that help quantify or define the parameters of our awareness.

Ached

I’m tweaked somehow. My alignment is now a bit off. And I don’t at all approve of the change. To my aggravation, this harmless gesture of resting my arm on a table is clearly a punishable crime. Heaven forbid I should slump awkwardly.

So besides that, tomorrow is a social day at work. We are all going to be social with our new coworkers and mingle. I guess. Frankly I’d rather be shadowing trained employees. I go there to work, and it feels weird having to monkey around that’s an order BOOT.

The tone of that whole thing just then was oppressive. My boss admitted to taking medications for depression, and another new hire takes a mood stabilizer. Their words, not my spin. So, am I thinking of letting my guard down? Fuck no.

I’m an intelligent and ambitious foe. I will strive to learn a thing until I am sure I have learned it really good. And then I can be confident in my actions and let this suave motherfucker take over. People love me. It’s a fact. On the phone, I must sound really good or something but people like talking with me. Studies have shown.

But enough noise from my own horn. How about that beautiful blue California sky? Every day, I’m amazed at how teeny tiny we are, and how much gas is trapped around our particularly dense planet. It’s all piled up for me to stare at, every day. You know, it’s not magic that keeps the atmosphere here… It’s being HELD here, and it wants desperately to escape, but it can’t, because the Earth has an extra big iron core that makes it more dense, and through which, gravity holds our air here. In reality, just outside that friendly blue sky is the unforgiving vacuum of space. It’s pulling too, baffled that the Earth can pull harder. Just behind the sky, the whole universe is watching.

Taking In The Good

I’ve learned something: it’s hard to afford ourselves the precious moments of satisfaction that come as the result of a triumph. Whether is be through association of direct connection, a compliment has a way of being disregarded or viewed as less because we somehow feel that we don’t deserve to hear the good. In that sense, it’s largely about criticism, which is a poor way to be constantly motivated. I find that observing a compliment is the best way to appreciate and remember it fully, as it was intended. We put so much interpretation on words, we weigh them and spin them depending on who they come from or what we think the reasons are behind it. We’re skeptical of niceness, because fake niceness is all too common, and genuine care is rather hard to come by. I propose we take a little time to observe nice things, when they do flutter into our lives, and be with them for as long as possible or practical. Taking in the good is only about remembering the good things that actually do happen, not making any up to fill a void or whatever. They are principles of observation, and enlighten one to the fleeting nature of good things, and the permanent nature of bad things (and how we hang on to them differently than we do positive feelings).

I think we could all use some practice doing this,because I’m rotten at it from the start. I tend to disregard compliments and ignore them outright, and this is unfair to the person giving me the compliment. I should respect their words and give them the attention they deserve. It’s only fair, right?

So, that’s my kernel of wisdom for the day. Not my personal ideas, but stuff I learned on this mental health journey.

The Letter I Wrote

I wrote a letter to Jax a while back, because I felt the need to be personally responsible for the things I did to cause that relationship to fall apart. Now, that’s not saying: “I’m the one who ruined everything, blame me.” There is none of that here, just a need for me to own what I KNOW I DID. I wrote a lengthy email explaining my reasons for my participation in the downfall, and I found the letter to be wholly unobtrusive and non hostile. As it was intended to be.

I honestly was expecting the email to go unanswered, but Jax had a nice reply for me, detailing that she understood my letter and felt the same way, for her own reasons. Progress? I mean, yeah! So that’s a good thing, despite all the potential for it to be a bad thing. And what the hell was I expecting anyway? As I recall, I wrote the letter with the hopes of not having to calculate for a reply, but whatever. It was good to finally talk with her, and have it not be a yelling match or argument or something. I’ve had to unlearn a lot of what I had taken in after 13 months of together. Something that goes on for that long leaves an indelible mark on a person, one that aches over time but doesn’t burn as it used to. I can’t say the white-hot anger of betrayal is long gone, leaving now only the groan of loneliness. Still, this letter was a good thing.

It was a nice change to wake-up to today, at any rate. Reminded me of better times that had been. On a more recent note, I’ve procured myself some family computer work, with a distant cousin of mine. Oddly enough, this comes from the side of the family that rents out the beach house that the Bailey family used a year ago to have a big reunion party. Definitely someone we Baileys want to keep a friendly relationship with. More work!?! Good heavens, what am I going to do with myself and this harebrained busy schedule!?!

Good news is that I’m on pace to make nearly 1,800 dollars a month in this temporary assignment, and who knows what will happen if I actually get on board full-time. With that kind of single-revenue, I can easily afford a place to live and have enough left over to save some every month. And with a chunk already sitting in the bank, it’s looking more and more like I will be on my own well before my birthday rolls around. I’m pretty excited about this whole opportunity.

I just worry sometimes. I worry needlessly about things I can’t control or have no real investment in affecting. I fret every so often, but this is somewhat expected given all the tumult. I cross my fingers and hope that nothing detrimental happens to those I am aware of. Even though I don’t love Jax anymore, I still deeply care about her well-being; I still hope that she is ok and striving. The decisions we make in the heat of emotions are often times poor long-term choices, and present us with short-term fixes (which end), and inevitably, wear off… and the truth is all that remains. Logic is only masked by emotion, not stricken from existence by it. My concern is an articulate feeling, which has a fundamental right to BE and BE HEARD. As all feelings do. I must find the means to observe my states and reflect on my emotions, not jump on the action-train and go for a ride.

In the end, I’m glad I wrote the letter. Now we don’t have to hate each other anymore.

 

Beneath Tired

I’m wondering if we relish things we used to take for granted, when reminded. I remember having a belief that love was ironclad. That it could not be questioned because of its strength. But this was a flawed and useless way of thinking. I’d turn my attention to a most recent departure from my previous state. Change has taken place, change continues its work every new day. I’m inspired. And also driven to lead. Today I generated trivia questions for the class to answer. I typed out all my notes and sent them to my supervisor for review. I’m boldly going where no one else can. To the top. Because there is only one.

Projecting a bit into the foreseeable future: I imagine becoming part of a fully functional and highly dynamic team environment. I see how those guys just handle themselves. I’m going to have to go out there and listen to them sometime. See what they have to say. I’m going to be learning more and more each day. I feel exhausted in my mind at the end of a full eight hours of training. It seems to me that some of my fellow employees aren’t on the same page as I am. I can’t really relate to anyone there except my boss. Which is good and bad. He seems like a neat enough guy. I don’t know all that much about him, to be honest. I hope he has a favorite student and I hope it’s me.

I’m determined to live healthy. So I’m waking up at 5 am every morning so I can go walk around the park four times. I need the exercise and all I do all day is sit. But it’s HARD to motivate to do that though. Really. I’m so fucking groggy and out of it that it gets to be hard to perform the task. But drinking a ton of coffee and then exercise is not a great idea. Unless you like to barf.

All in all, I’m excelling. And for myself this time.

Ni Ni Song

I wish a tender place to sleep
To soak the sunlit hours deep
Into the cracking cave of night
Where hours vanish with delight
A warm embrace of embers’ glow
Hiding deep beneath the snow
Blanketed buried soft and neat
Do shadows on the canyons creep
A frail flag against the wind
So eyes to their duty rescind
Beneath the tumult of mashed up scenes
Chewed on slowly by my dreams
Tired lays the body down
To wed the throne of most renown
King in chambers home at last
You’ll never know the time has passed
For morning’s light when next you meet
Allow your mind to just intreat
A passing memory of darkness gone
The new sun rising to its song

No Loafing

I tried to do my 4 laps speed-walk around the park today… but at 5:30 am I was just sooooo tied still. I did 1 lap and came back to the spot and took a shower. I think that once I get used to this routine, I will have more energy reserves in the morning so I can get my full laps in and be a good steward of my physical health. I have a lot of weight to lose, and really no exercise time available in which to rapidly shed it. I have a schedule of eating well below the regular caloric-intake burn levels, so I’m burning more fuel than I put in my body… and with regular daily cardiovascular exercise, I can’t think of a better way to be looking out for myself, initially. I know I will be moving soon, and need to scope-out a new walking area for myself. Tierrasanta looks like a possible resting place, being an isolated bedroom community and not more than a 5 minute drive from the office. I think that once I have some assets saved, I’ll be able to strike out as an independent again.

For now though, I’ve got to get my show on the road. Here’s a toast to another brain-full day in learning land!

 

Final Meeting

I’m about ready to go into my Recovery Connections group for the last time. It’s going to be hard to let go if a good resource, but considering the magnitude of change, being unfortunately necessary. I start work on Monday after one last weekend in recovery town. I have my dress slacks and button up shirts all ready to go. I am so very excited to be working again. It is quite a relief.

I hope you out there who have been following the three month saga of my recovery can see how far I have come. I got my act together and did something solid with my life. I ensured the future of my independence and pride. Whatever new things may come, I know I can be ready for new challenges and obstacles.

These posts are affirmations which help me solidify my thoughts into reality. I have done the work yet there is still much more to do. I have to say goodbye to the support structure that helped me, and welcome a new change. I must now be my own caregiver, ally and friend. I think I can do that.

Some Paper, And Forgiveness

I have said many times how I intend to change myself and my actions for the betterment of my life and future. I have been frank, and disclosed my darkest errors. I do this so I can learn, and grow. The feeling isn’t one of mutual respect though, and no matter how I try, I’m never going to get the satisfaction of understanding, the solemn love of compassion… things I desperately seek but have no healthy way of receiving. I can do the best I can, within my capabilities, to express, document and scrutinize my responses, emotions and thoughts. But it’s not a two-way street, and the gratification I’m looking for comes from a place of functionality, not disconnection. Jax and I are now permanently disconnected, so I’m not sure what my thinking is in writing her that letter… a letter that contained my most heartfelt regrets and apologies. It’s private, otherwise I’d have posted it here. In short, I’m not able to be at rest knowing I left so many things unsaid, or undone in our life together. I couldn’t just let that go, knowing that she has this idea about me in her head that I am a piece of shit or not worth being with or whatever. I can’t just be ok leaving it at that. I want her to know, that I’m changing, even if she is not. I’m advancing my life, every day, just like I said I was going to back in the beginning.

I’ve come a long way with the anger, which I was buried in at the time that Jax told me she had an affair while I was still in the hospital. But who’s to say what is good and what is bad? I can understand this crisis from my standpoint alone, and deal with the emotional responses that I am made aware of. I can’t go doing impossible things, so, why expect that of myself? Seems kinda pointless.

I am moving on the best way I know how, and after surviving a few months of anguish, I’m emerging from the haze and am ready to address the next circumstance. I can’t change the past, duh. But I can change how I feel about it, and how I interpret the situation for myself. I can choose to take something wholly beneficial from this calamity and use it to propel myself forward. Goals are out there to be reached, met, surpassed. I am confident I can do these things, if I grind away at them and take my time in reaching milestones. My expressions have become starkly more useful and less emotional as time has passed, and this should be an encouraging sign to anyone that even the most vile of heartbreak can be overcome with the dull ache of time. Not the same excruciating pain, but a reminder of where it used to hurt and why.

Jax, best of luck on your adventure to wherever it is that you are going. I have disconnected my concern, and am satisfied with where I have left things between us. It’s never going to be right again, because trauma has seen to disbanding even the smallest of insurrections. That’s what you wanted though, so I can’t say much else. I’ve move my own way, and am not headed a vastly different direction than you. And we will not be meeting again on this journey, I know. Because my path requires a level of energy and commitment that you do not want any part of. You do really believe and love your sister, even if her advice can get you into more trouble that it was originally worth. Be well on your travels, as I will be on mine.

The Cut Of Truth

I wish I could have done things differently, sure. But it is truly hopeless thinking to wish for a past that can’t be changed. I’ve fucked up pretty bad in my life, and more than once, but history is done, and I am still here. I have to take the next step forward, and be present with my new decisions and actions. I am now trying to do the best I can to be a good person in the world, and I can’t do any of that without a clear understanding of how I need to change. Because what I WAS doing is no good, and leads to eventual disaster. And I know that now; that somewhere under all that turbulence was the thing I needed to adjust. The real source of my despair is me.

I have a chance to make a whole new go of life, and I don’t intend to squander it. In this stage of my outward development, I am taking in the good and filtering the bad through the process of rationalizing. I still have big, hardly containable feelings burble up in me, and sometimes there is no stopping the sadness. But this is a response to a recent injury, not a lasting motif. I filed the divorce. That hurts still, because I wasn’t ready to let my marriage go. I still wanted it, badly, and the hole that it left in me filled rapidly with anger and disdain. I don’t hate anyone. I may act like I do, but I bet you would too if you were dealing with this level of trauma.

I have a more evolved system of coping and understanding my feelings. This process involves a new-found sense of worth, and a belief that my feelings are valid no matter what obscure corner of the conscious mind they come from. All things will eventually demand to be heard, understood and appropriately digested. I don’t know anything about my future. I shouldn’t need t worry about inane fears and baseless, damaging thoughts. I can still experience destructive feelings, but not be controlled or owned by them. I find that much to my satisfaction.

In short, no one can change what I’ve done, or what has been done to me. But we can write a purposeful and hopeful future for ourselves, with concentration and appropriate action. A well balanced and measured existence comes from a place of compassion, not discipline. No one goes anywhere by motivating with punishment. That’s one thing I can say that I know now, that I didn’t before. It’s a mercurial world, and we’re just doing our best to survive in it.

New Stuff

I got the job! First off. It’s a technical support job working for Mood Media. I’ll be training on how to use their proprietary devices, then guiding customers through their issues with them.

As you may be aware, the last time I had a job, my maintenance of the blog will decrease, but not disappear altogether. I’m still working out how to continue my therapy, but I’m aware I will lose both my groups. I need to make a conscious decision to be proactive about checking in with myself and being a good steward of my body. I will be shopping and surviving on my own again, which I am really excited about. I’m looking forward to getting back on a regular diet, eating healthy things and staying true to my exercise time. It’s a good way to get the endorphins flowing first thing in the morning. I have a lot of good thoughts coming out of this life change. Which I knew would happen eventually, but was not expecting it to be so soon.

I am ready though. I’m looking forward to all of this change. Bring it on. I’m ready to prove it to myself.

I have been in a hard place emotionally. I’ve been reliving a lot of Jax memories… and I’m just not sure what good it’s doing me. I get to feeling so sad and despairing, often times my words from that place are greatly exacerbated by emotions and time. But they are still my feelings and still my words so I am them. Regardless of how I might think I feel. I’m still just as powerless to stop the sadness as I am able to make a rabbit disappear from inside a top hat. I just don’t understand it all sometimes. I’m only half of what happened, and I’m sure there will not be a tomorrow for any of these feelings inside me. They pine for a dead future, not killed by MY choice, but dead nevertheless.

I am happy to say I will be making enough money independently to get my own studio apartment and be able to hold myself up again, after some months in the hole. I will have a life again! Hooray! And with the work I continue to do to help myself get better, healthy in my brain. Every day here on out, it has to be my top priority.

I know Jax is gone and that I won’t get her back. Even if I want that, I can’t do anything about it. I’m powerless to change others, to hope they can see what I can see. It makes no difference, and that fact alone is enough to bind me to old sorrow in a way that is difficult to escape. But hey, I’ve got my life back that I lost, and I’m ecstatic about getting myself back out there again. Who knows? I may meet someone new who truly understands my state and circumstances. Wouldn’t that be refreshing? I can’t help but admire my parents for having a relationship that swerved around horrible danger and still took some severe damage in it’s progression, but never faltered and never cracked. They realized that love was bigger than any momentary obstacle in life, and that their love would go on regardless. No problem is too big that love can’t handle it.

I find myself hoping more people out there will think this way, so that if I ever do fall in love again, I do so for the last time.

Lament

I write to free myself of the burden of sorrow. And sometimes it presses me down hard and flat. And it’s all I can do to struggle against it and allow myself a breath. Sometimes there is no escaping it. The sadness comes and swallows me. I am immersed in the inconsolable thoughts of deep hurt and traumatic pain. I don’t exactly deserve this magnitude of emotion, but I can still deal it to myself regardless. It’s as constant as the sunrise, this disorder. You can expect there to be a down whenever there was an up. I sit here in the gathering dark and wonder about what kind of person I want to be. I hold my self in a respectful regard, while maintaining a leader’s ambition. I can be a great person, but it takes a lot of work to get it there.

I have a job interview tomorrow. First thing in the morning. I’m pretty excited about that. I get another chance to prove my value to another person and try to get hired. I really want to work. And keep at my successes with realistic goals that can be systematically achieved. Is it really all about the hurt I feel in the moment of anguish? I certainly hope not. Seems like a bad place to be making a decision. I’ve learned from hard mistakes and I am doing the best I can to carry on. It’s all I can really expect.

I hope this place continues to be as forgiving and open as it has been. I take solace in the act of casting my words out into the forever. Some how, these words will carry on somewhere, and be of use to someone. That completes the circuit. So to speak.

Reminders Of Her

I’m struggling with a lump in my throat and a tears swelling in my eyes. I am reminded of how much I loved her, and how much it hurt to have that abruptly cancelled. I’ve not fully comprehended the shock of abandonment. of a love that I thought was deeper than any I had known… to have that ripped from me is inviting indescribable anguish. I suffer with a empty chasm that had been filled with adoration for another person. I absolutely loved every part of her, every smile, every sob, every tear she cried, every funny little way she walked. I can’t help but remember how deeply I loved her. How truly, I appreciated her company, and revealed everything to her, and let he be in the sacred circle of my life. To exile her from it has been like committing treason on myself. Part of me died forever when she told me that she was through with me. It’s a fundamental rejection based on circumstance, elated emotions and a lack of foresight. Truly I believe life still could have worked, gotten better even been something totally new, If you’d only have been willing to try again with me. But even that was repulsive. Everything about who I am you found abhorrent to such an extent as to never want anything to do with me, ever again. I can’t help but take that kind of personally. And I’m such an idiot, because I’m not observant and I fall into ruts. And I lost you when I was in my deepest dark place. I lost you, the only thing that I truly held in the center of my love. Ever. And I lost you.

I don’t think I’m likely to just “get over” that. I royally fucked up, and did enough bad things to her to drive her away, permanently. I must be an unadulterated toxic waste site that kills everything that strays near it. Is that the reality of my solitude? The true depth of the bleakness of having been given up on, and left forever. I can’t relay the level of suffering that comes from that cold, real fact. It drives itself through me like cold steel. I can’t breathe sometimes because I miss her touch, her smell. I miss the way she laughed at my jokes, the way she listened to my stories. I never had a ton of things in common with her, but I appreciated her creativity, her spontaneity, her ambition. She had fire, and spunk, and I liked that. I thought her heart would forgive even my most wretched of dispositions, but I was wrong. It had a limit, and that limit was found and broken. I wish I was still being loved the way I had been… I wish I was still in love with her the way I imagine I was. I wanted to center my whole life around this rare flower, this traumatized beauty… I just never let her know how precious she was to me, I guess. I can’t explain what happened to me, but I sure can learn from it. And I’m doing my best to make sure this doesn’t happen again. But to do that, and pursue my mental health as my life priority… I will surely to be used to doing it alone. I can’t expect to put someone through the kind of torture it is to deal with someone who is deeply mentally ill. She never really understood what kind of challenge I was, and she got frightened when she found out, and wanted out. It was all too much. The neglect, the constant analysis and lack of compassion. I get it. I mean, I have to get why, because how else am I ever going to learn anything from this disaster?

I don’t know how to tell you what it feels like to be strangled by sadness, dissolving into vile acid and hissing with despair. I wish I was somehow still worthy of her love. I wish I had the validation of someone there, making you smile inside. Because that’s what she did for me, she made me work so god damn hard, every day, pushing myself to the limit and doing it so that I could have that life with her. It was what I wanted when I went to work, when I started being independent again, I did it for her, for that life with her… because I loved her so much I glowed in the dark with energy to make her, and myself proud. Jax, I don’t regret giving all that year of my life to you. I would do it all again, because you were such a joy for that time, and such a clever little spot. I’ll never forget how good you used to make me feel. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life… like nothing I ever expect to feel again. I’m deep in guilt over how I took care of myself, and how I contributed to the way we fell apart. I wish I had it back. I wish I had her back. I wish I didn’t have to hurt so bad all the time, and feel so totally alone sometimes at night, and the feel like you just wish it could be ok again. But I know, it won’t be sometimes.

Should’ve Known Better – Richard Marx

Another sleepless night I can’t explain,
Somebody said they heard me call your name,
The radio won’t let you leave my mind,
I know it’s over but I don’t know why.

Should’ve known better–
Than to fall in love with you.
Now love is just a faded memory.
Should’ve known better–
Now I’m a prisoner to this pain,
And my heart still aches for you.

There was no risk that I wouldn’t take,
And not a promise that I didn’t make,
All I asked was that you just hold on,
And now I’m wondering what I did wrong.

Should’ve known better–
Than to fall in love with you.
Now love is just a faded memory.
Should’ve known better–
Now I’m a prisoner to this pain,
And my heart still aches for you.

I gave you all of my body and soul,
Never believing we might lose control,
I took my hands off the wheel.

I can’t remember if the lies were true.
It’s been a million years since I touched you.
I thought time might help me win this game,
But being away from you is slowly driving me insane.
Should’ve known better–
Than to fall in love with you.
Now love is just a faded memory.
Should’ve known better–
Now I’m a prisoner to this pain,
And my heart still aches for you.

Unwritten Words

I have been writing huge posts, often rants about my painful experiences around my suicide attempt, but not publishing them. In fact, I typically vent for up to 500 words or so, and then delete the post entirely. I let one go today, but realizing I would rather have just deleted my rant, I did after the fact. I’m sorry if you read it and were like “what stick got up HIS ass today?”

I have a lot of feelings that don’t need to be solidified as a post. More often than not, I indulge the destructive thoughts by giving them a creative outlet in my words. But do I want to save all those words? Fuck no. Most of what I write is biased nonsense, and you should know that by now. It’s not intended to be ubiquitous, it’s not a tween pop hit. It’s MY blog, and it’s often dark and quite belligerent; mired in redundancies, and sometimes at a total loss for how to articulate the feeling, but trying nevertheless. I don’t write for anyone but myself, for myself, for my thoughts to be real, heard, and then dissipate forever. Take it or leave it.

So, like I was saying… there are just too many posts that don’t need to be posted… because they come from an emotionally unhelpful place, and are happy with just having my attention for a few minutes, let alone achieve semi-permanence. I’m trying to keep the thought faucet on a drip… for now.

Self-Talk

I was an active participant in group today, which is great, refreshing and rewarding. I was trying to explain my mindful processes to them, and how I now process my feelings in a way I never had. It’s pretty novel, and clearly not just an idea I came up with. Your credit being due to Marsha Linehan for having all the details of mindfulness all sorted out. It’s been really revolutionary, and the more I find myself sharing my success with others, the more little light-bulbs go on all around me. Today, one of the group members just looked at me and said “wow, you should lead the group.” I take that as a compliment, not a suggestion. But it’s my personality coming back and I’m seeing the proof of its return. People had nothing but positive stuff to say to me today, and even though I came out of group to find I had a flat tire, I nevertheless had a fantastic, exercise packed kinda day. And it’s a step forward, like the many I have taken before this one, and like the many I will take in days to come.

I feel pride in myself again, and not the guilty indulgence of delusion, but an actual strength that builds on my conscience, my morality. I have a morally clean slate, because I don’t “get off” by doing evil things to others. I can be mean, yes, and perhaps deservedly so. But does that make my soul unclean? If you know what I mean? I don’t kill, steal, cheat, and victimize others. And that kinda stuff. I think I might be too stupid to be a good liar. I’d just forget what I had lied about anyway.

I think things are going super. I mean, given the circumstances. It’s not hell anymore. It WAS though. I can’t tell you how hard it’s been to regroup from what happened to my life. I don’t pretend to be the victim, but mostly, I did get screwed out of that life, a life that I was not prepared to lose in the way that I did. You readers know me, and know how hard it is to learn from one’s mistakes, and embrace them to grow with them. I have done this, and wholly examined my failings, and conducted the change needed to restore functionality. And boy, there’s still quite a bit of work to do. I don’t pretend to have it figured out; I’m learning, just like most of you. It’s not so easy as it may seem, but things of value are never ever easy to get a hold of. Work for your freedom. Earn the right to be independent. There’s nothing wrong with any of that.

In some way, I still admire Jax for going out there and staying afloat. I didn’t think she’d make it, but she has. And who knows, maybe she will. It’s of no consequence to me. But do I respect her? No, not at all. She’s made some ridiculously bad decisions, and seems to only want to defend herself as to why she did. I mean, you read her comment, right? I don’t admire her for THAT.

But seriously folks. I’m glad for the continued steady climb of progress. I’m getting exercise nearly every day, and it takes a lot out of me, which feels good. It’s fun to be exhausted! I feel relevant. In a sweaty kind of way.

 

 

 

Just Waking Up

I had nightmares. It was demonic possession in this dream. And they poured hot mustard on my knee so I would write down demon words and talk in demon language. It was unpleasant. But this is how sleep goes sometimes. At least I’m not having to face The Ghost.

I’m my dreams, I’m suffering in one form or another. It’s very rarely a not horrible dream in which not horrible things are happening. Very rare.

I’m going to group today. It was a little crowded last week and I’m not too big a fan of that. The groups lose value when they get bigger. Chances are someone will grab the limelight and not let go of it. Then we only deal with one person’s problem the whole time. Not fun. Not rewarding.

Seeing her again yesterday only reminded me of how far she has fallen. I used to respect and care for her, but not anymore. I think poorly of her and have no desire to interact with her any further. She’s left my concern and I’m glad to be rid of it. I’m doing so much better without her. It’s measurable, the changes I made to myself. I’m so proud of that. It can’t be taken from me either.

I’m here in snuggy town. I’m warm and safe. Not possessed by demons. Thankfully.

ZERG THEM?

I’ve decided not. Rather, the Tyranids change directions after this initial “rush / zerg” phase is over. Mainly, Hormagaunts can win you the early part of the game, but will never destroy a base. I’ve tried. What works, is revving up technological advances to achieve some of the highest tier units the Tyranids can recruit. Like my buddy Trygon down there. Flying in to deliver the final blow is a fully upgraded Hive Tyrant as well.

relic00159

This was the final screen for Imperial Guard, who had been utterly shut down by the Zoanthropes, losing all their advanced tanks and infantry to them. Which were built in large number, clearly by the screencap with all 600 of them waiting in the background. Biovores came in handy for culling the first few infantry outbursts from IG while I was getting the technology for tier 3 upgraded. Once the Zoanthropes got out there, and the Carnifexes were piling up, I had things wrapped up. Those are not Screamer-Killers down there, those are real full Carnifexes. And they’re set to destroy structures, which IG was not happy about. But it was over fast once the purge had wiped out all their perimeter defenses.

Trygon or two come to be useful meats, because they take a ton of punishment (of all forms) and seem to do well in absorbing most of it. They die, but it sure does take a while. And if you’ve built a Tunnel Warrens then you are deep into Tyranids and don’t have much more upward expansion left before hiutting the top. You need to have victory with the tier 3 and 4 stuff, if at all. If outgunned here, which I have been before by Dark Eldar, then you’re fucking doomed.

I timed this game just under 1/2 an hour. Yikes. What happened to Zerg? What happened to “the hive must grow?” These are myths when such Hydraliskian brethren like the Zoanthrope hang around waiting to be teched up to. I will run more games this way, not putting a killing blow until tier 3. We’ll see how that goes.

 

Talking In Opposites

I have to behave in a way contrary to how I feel sometimes. It’s mostly because I’m second guessing myself all the time, and have no trust based on the initial emotional offering. I tend to justify my feelings as to why they exist. They usually have a good reason, unless we’re dealing with emotional symptoms, which can have no good excuse at all for being there. I am quiet, because I am a little scared of everything still. I’m not flourishing, I’m just starting to open back up again after being closed tight. I can’t say I’m ready to just pack up my stuff and move in to an apartment right now either. It’s a tough thing to admit, but when I’m alone, I get very sad and I cry. I get acutely lonely, and I act like I’ve been abandoned. Which I have not, but none of that seems to matter. It’s not about thinking my way out of some bad things, it’s just due to having been poisoned so many times. I’m fucking ruined if there is ever to be a next love. Ruined. All my training has broken down, the wheels have come right the fuck off this wagon. I am so judgmental about people and things, and it serves as my initial protection system, warding off perceived threats or other undesirables.

In the opposite direction, my arm is finally back to normal. What was that, 2 weeks? Just about. So, we’re drawing blood from the other arm next time, how ’bout. I’m getting in to another week of things to do, starting with Life Skills today at 1:00. I am GOING to get back to my exercises again this week, now that my arm can freely dangle at my side without causing me severe pain. I’m really hoping that this is the week DoR calls me and I get to go down to MHS and start finding me a job. I’m just so excited to get this aspect of my life moving. I’m getting to a healthy point of wanting my own space, my own “land” to manage. I need that responsibility so I can establish an independent sense of worth. But am I ready to go fly out there and do this right now? NO. But I’m damn close to being there. It’s going to land in the “Goldilocks Zone” of my success. Right when I’m ready to go, I’ll be needing to go. My parents want this to happen, and so do I. For sure. It’s all around, a good thing.

I’m a guy in flux. Changing for the better takes time and patience, and lots of measured successes. I have to build my fortress back up again. I’m down to my last villager and we’re scrambling for a place to hide and rebuild my empire. I can do this though. Because I want it back so bad, I’m willing to do what I need to in order to make that happen right.

Nighttime Notations

It’s past my usual bed time but we just got done watching a movie and dinner. It was all very nice. Casual fun. More importantly is that I seem to have done well letting my sadness wash over and through me. As I figured it would. But enduring those moments can be rough. I talked with my dad some today. He told me he was very proud of the steps I have taken and that it’s clear I’m improving. All he really wants is for me to try hard and have a go of it. They both want me to succeed. I learn from my past and sometimes wear the shame of those missteps in the present. One thing I can bravely say is that I have not deluded you or myself in this whole process. I’m not telling the world a spun version of reality. It would be nice to have no regrets, but I own my past and am sorry. And directly responsible for it. My actions. My words. It’s all there for anyone to see, and I won’t live any differently. I think I’m pretty stubborn about certain things. But now I think I see why going this road alone is best. Other people are a risk, and can’t be depended on to value me in an appropriate way. What I need is the deep inner strength of the self emerging triumphantly from a cocoon. I am such a talented, amazing guy. Why should I waste time on losers, idiots or people who lie? Some people are just ok not living honestly. Some people say one thing but do another. I’ve learned the value of being honest. Even if it hurts or breaks reality, it’s necessary to have peace in my heart. I’m not a liar. I’m not a cheat. I’m not brave either, but things are improving. Back to that word. Improving. I can say with confidence that I’m doing it right this time, for me. I’m worth that.

Terrible Anguish

I’m here feeling really sad about my life and it’s current manifestation. I guess I wish I was doing something I could be very proud of. Instead, I feel like organic waste. I feel like a pile of steaming compost. My heart is heavy and I can feel it in my chest like I swallowed a stone. It’s cold and unforgiving and not willing to listen to rationale. It just hurts and reminds me that through this part of my recovery, I must be alone. I’m not too good with that, because I’m affectionate and soft. I like to be loved. To give love. To have something invaluable like emotional bliss is more than I can bear thinking about. I’m so fucking far from being emotionally happy it’s not even fun to measure the distance to go still. It seems all so insurmountable. And I am sad to be constraining my parent’s lives with my situation. I would like nothing more than to succeed and lift the burden of my presence from them. But it’s all out of my hands right now. I even wrote a letter to Hope Connections about that possible IT job. Haven’t heard back from them. Haven’t heard from DoR either. Boy would I really like to do some stuff to make my life better. I hate being stuck. Waiting for others to decide my fate. It’s pretty fucked. But I didn’t want to be here. I was living my life until it collapsed. I was doing ok. I could have been doing a lot better, but that’s my future goal. For a reestablishment of my independent, dignified self. But I’ve never felt as “off” as I have been because of this most recent collapse. I put so much into that life. Now it’s gone and the memories are bitter. I remember the first time she stepped foot in San Diego. I was so damn excited to see her. To have this life with her that I planned. It was all such a huge mistake. I wish I would have known the kind of person she was. I wouldn’t have wasted my time. She’s the opposite of what I needed. A poison in the prerogative of denial. Of looking everywhere but within the self for answers. Like I did. Leaning on love like it could hold me up. When it never could. She never loved me like I thought she would. Love to her is like any other emotion. It comes and goes with the tides. Eventually she had no love left for me. When I loved her too much. Treasured her. But why? Because it was all I could understand about love. It was my only definition. I guess I’m writing all of this over again because I really have no other way of coping with this unquenchable sadness. I’m trying. I have not given up. But this is hard and I hurt. And someday, it won’t be this way. Someday, I’ll be me again.

Letters For Will

I miss talking to you often, and that’s mostly my fault. I’m in internet-lockdown mode and can hardly have much of an online presence. Skype is like out of the question for me. So I figured, hey, why not drum up some random conversation over email, that way you can take your sweet time in responding and get to it when you have the time. Adaptable discourse, let’s say. At any rate, I’m hopeful about some promising job leads I’ve been following up on. Maybe my departure from the temporary living space is closer than I think? Anyway, I’m making good steady progress, and measured successes. I’m rebuilding for just me this time, not for or because of anyone else.
I’ve had a lot of time to sit here and think about myself. It’s turned over some pretty serious trauma, and revealed the severity and seriousness of my mental health.I have to be superdooper on top of it.Haveto be, now, because all my future depends on my surviving a crisis alone.I needto be able to beself sufficient, if all else fails. It makes me eager, because I really want to try hard and prove to everyone that I can do it. Even if it is a great sum of difficulties, perseverance and progress prevail.I’ll just get right to it: Ultimate. Apocalypse.BUM BUM BUM!It’s the greatest RTS game I’ve ever played. I have lots of words about it already written on my blog. Pages and pages of countless game theories andpontifications. It’s actually garnered me a somewhat robust listening audience (mostly international) that read my game articles. I have over 350 active followers. It’skind of a lot. They often have things to say about my thoughts and the weird  shit I post up there. I want to talk to you all about Ultimate Apocalypse, and my ideas for the future. I see us doing some organized fun together sometime soon. SPOILER ALERT. There will probably be orange soda nearby.Anyway, be well friend. Let me know how things are doing goes.

______________________________________________________________

Hey dude,

I’m super happy to hear how you’re pushing along and pushing forward. Do the jobs you’ve been looking into seem interesting? Tell me more!
I wouldn’t mind playing a few games of UA… man, I miss my buddy. I can’t wait till you are back on your feet and internet connected. :)
I’ve been trudging along with my job. Things are great here; I have no reason to complain, but at the same time I’ve been feeling a bit disconnected from my job. That’s a bummer. I am really appreciative to have a steady income though. This area of the world continues to be weird. This place is, in some ways, stranger than SF city. Apparently I live in a dangerous area where there are always cops. Just yesterday someone got shot by a cop not very far down the street. I guess this is just a very busy road, so maybe it’s just that. The difference between the tech world and the rest of the world is as obvious as always in this area. Very strange indeed.
I’m still waiting to get a car. This old roommate who has one to sell me keeps pushing back the date. I should move on, but I don’t have enough money to find many options. I can afford his car for the KBB price of $1,500. Any other craigslist $1,500 car seems like a complete gamble. Way too risky. They are all over priced here. A comparative car to the one my roommate has, with the KBB value of 1500 is listed on craigslist here for at least 3k. It’s ridiculous. So… instead of being screwed out of the little extra money I have, I have been waiting. And riding my bike. I hate that damn bike ride now. You’d think I’d start to enjoy it more as I got more fit. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m not a morning person and certainty not someone interested in riding a damn bike in the morning. Riding home from work is totally fine though. Anyway… I feel silly even half complaining. Things are so much better than they have been in the past. Things with Sandra are going well also.
I still want to figure out my way to change the world for the better. Income redistribution. I’m going to research that. Wiki says that term is about transfer caused by “a social mechanism such as taxation, monetary policies, welfare, charity, divorce or tort law”. Not really exactly what I was thinking. Maybe charity fits. Not fully selfless charity though. People need some good incentive.
Great idea with the email messages!
_____________________________________________________________
Thanks for the reply so fast. The job I have a good lead on is to become the IT department of the Hope Connections program thathas been helping me since I got out of the hospital. They just got a grant for expanding their services, and adding technical support is going to happen soon. They haven’t written a job description yet, but I am looking for it so I can go apply and then pull some strings or drop names or whatever I need to do to get back to work. I also enrolled in a program with a company called Mental Health Systems, and in reality, they’re a glorified employment agency that gets funding for placing mentally ill folks in jobs they enjoy. Hopefully, if the thing with Hope Connections takes too long I will be able tousetheMHS program to find similar work. Either way, I’m temporarily in limbo over a next move, waiting for someone to call me and tell me I’m enrolled.Yeah, I can understand about crime and whatnot. It was much the same story when I lived on Mills st. Lot of cops hanging around, especially those 2 gas stations. I guess it comes with the territory of inexpensive housing. You just make do with what you have and go forward regardless. At least the cops aren’t after YOU. Hehe.I know you’re somehow permanently hardwiredto be more active at night, so I’m very glad to hear that despiteit’s inconvenience of having to get up early, you still do. It’s not ideal, I get that, but still, proof to yourself that life is more valuable than sleep. Which is a good thing indeed.Since I’m pretty much at zero in my life, I am finding it hard to fully understand your ideas about sharing income. I mean, if you knew themoneywas being used for some good, and not abused, then I can see how this would work. But the world is fallible, and greedy, and not geared to take money and help people with it. You’d be better off writing your own unique contracts and becoming a personal humanitarian bank, getting friends and relatives and family financial help to secure their lives. At least you know a bureaucrat isn’t pocketing some share of what you intended to redistribute.Anyway, good on you for being out there and keeping your life in one piece. I’m proud of you. And more importantly, I admire and respect you, for your success and your perseverance. I can only learn good things from the model you have presented.I’m hopeful that I can be independent again in a few weeks, maybe a month or two. I’m not sure how things are going to line up, and I definitely need a job so I can build up enough money to go get me a residence again. All good things come in time, or to those who wait, or whatever. But this is something I can do, for sure. I want to get my hands back into tech support, and start helping people again. I feel empty and unfulfilled most of the time because this piece has been missing in my world. But not for long.

And yes, we will have us a game soon, but it will take me some time to get back to where I need to be for that to happen again. I have it as one of my goals, for sure. And YOU probably need to just download and start messing around with it, because I’ve had some time to play it, and figure it out. I’ve mastered 2 build orders, one with Tau Empire and the other Eldar. Believe it or not, the Tau build is largely melee, and the Eldar is ranged. Um, like, what? Yeah, opposite of how I have played them in the past, I am aware. But a much better, faster, deadlier build now than ever before. I leave the AI on Harder and can beat it every time, even if I dilly dally. It’s the Insane AI I have trouble with. It’s just SO FAST. So much faster than even I know how to go. It’s not reasonable to play that AI and expect to win at all. It’s damn near hopeless, unless you get them on a map where they have no good strategy(see, no markers) and THEN they will die. But that’s not often, and not because I was better.

Hope you have a swell weekend day. I’ve got family visiting from out of town, so I will be doing that for the next couple days here.

 

Insane Once More!

I’ve got this build order down for Eldar that I’m pretty stoked about. It’s fast, and very hard to stop. I start with the bare essentials, economic upgrades only after tier 2 is researched, and no units until tier 2. Minimum. If you haul-ass up to tier 2, and then hit them with a serious fast-moving threat, there’s no way to beat that. I’ve seen them try upwards of 4 times now. But this most recent victory came against the Insane AI, which I throttled the same way I did the Harders. Those Fire Dragons might be OP or something, because they gutted Space Marines’ base in less than 1 minute. They just walked right through it, smashing everything in their way. They even reeled and built a second HQ farther down the map, but it was no use, by then the Warp Spiders has closed in and there were no more units of any kind, on the map. Down to a HQ and then dead.

The I attacked first, but they couldn’t handle the first group of Wraithlords. They managed to kill 1 of 3. But by then, ranged infantry was getting out, and the Dark Reapers all died because I needed them to buy me some time. It worked, because then I had Fire Dragons, and all their big Dreadnaught things died fucking boom. And vehicles tried to run away, but died attempting to flee. Then I gained a bunch of ground that they were vacating, realizing the tier 1 stuff they had was not going to cut it against me. They ran for cover, and I chased them right back to the HQ and killed them.

I had a strange therapy session, where my therapist actually got intimidated by me, and the way I was talking. I think I may have overwhelmed her with eagerness to explain my peculiar self-rhetoric. I was attempting to explain that I have to be overly-selective in making any kind of relationship right now, because I am trying to rebuild myself, alone. I need to do this rehabilitation for myself, and without the need of another person or for another reason other than, me. I deserve to live a full life, for my own sake, because I am unique, special, and worth defending. Even if the fucking armies are closing in on me, I still have to be ok with myself, in order to know that I can survive for my own sake. That has to be enough to inspire me to my ultimate heights, where the ceiling of what I can achieve with my life is within reach. I truly hope that this goal of mine is not too lofty, but crafted out of an understanding of the gradual arc of slowly, correctly, built success. I tried to explain my ideas about what friendships should be about, but she called me “idealistic.” I think maybe you’re “pessimistic.” How about that? How rude.

Anyway. I tend to think that If I want to life my life for myself, I had better follow a pretty solid set of rules. I need the structure, to hold me to my moral compass. To guide me in a crisis. I need to be able to do these things alone, and in the event that a new person was to me added to the equation, it better be because of some fucking good reason. I’m not going to be your friend just to say that I am, If you don’t have anything useful to add to my life, then I probably don’t want to talk to you. Is that idealistic? Or just picky? I mean seriously, that’s not even as extreme as I can be. this is moderation folks. You get what you get.

I don’t know how today’s run in with my morality will play out over the course of our next meetings, but I get the feeling we won’t be going back to that area, for her sake I guess.

Humans To Mars By 2037?

I really have my fears that even that somewhat forgiving deadline is still not reachable. Why? I mean truly if we put enough money into a thing, it’s bound to happen. But is going to Mars a priority for this society? Do most Americans know what Mars is?

I find the goal to be interesting, If our objective is to establish land-based operations (with Mars’ gravity being roughly 1/3 ours). That seems rough. There’s no way to train for that. You can strand yourself in a barren environment and only wear a suit outside, but the GRAVITY you can’s fake. You will know when you get there. I guess. But we sure can calculate for what is going to happen to us when we get there, and how hard it is going to be to establish a self-sustaining colony there. We can’t even zip up our own flies half the time. Why should we care about going to Mars, other than that going there is pretty fucking cool?

We plan to, first, grab a Near Earth Object and corral it into an orbit around the Moon, and then go send people to it and land on it for samples or whatever. Isn’t that insane? A fucking asteroid no larger than a room. Why should it cooperate? What the fuck are we thinking?

This is their whole big plan though. And now we have to miss the minimum distance in 2018 or sometime around there, when Mars was really really close. 2037? Holy shit man, I’m never going to make it.

But hey, if we can somehow unanimously convince ourselves that going to Mars is an objective we need to see through, then surely put it to America to do that job correctly. We’ve been the only ones to go to the Moon so far. GO top that before you come at me with your 3rd world space program.

4 Minutes, 44 Seconds

Hard job making a playlist out of the 60 or so songs of that exact length.Why? WHY NOT I SAY! I came to the number due in large part to a math fail. There you have it.

Made a pretty remarkable set, once I trimmed the list and organized the tracks. BEHOLD:

4:44

 

  1. Mercy Street – Peter Gabriel
  2. Hard Habit To Break – Chicago
  3. How Much I Feel – Ambrosia
  4. Praying For Time – George Michael
  5. I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues – Elton John
  6. Only You – Harry Connick, Jr.
  7. Escapade – Janet Jackson
  8. Ramblin’ Man – The Allman Brothers Band
  9. Island World – Hiroshima
  10. Head – Prince
  11. Jack-A-Lynn – Jethro Tull
  12. Let Me Take You Home Tonight – Boston
  13. Heartbeat – Wham!
  14. Little Tin God – Don Henley
  15. Meadows – Joe Walsh
  16. My Life – Billy Joel

 

Monkeys

I have been contemplative of late. I’m thinking a lot about songs, music playing in my mind. I think about stuff… sad songs bring back memories of what things used to be like. When I was in love and happy, and living. I put together a pretty solid run there, from the end of 2012 to the beginning of 2014. I did well and thrived. I just didn’t have a job that understood my difficulties, or a partner for that matter. I think she always sympathized with my disability, but never really understood it. I mean, how can you know I carry this terrible weight and then have THAT be the reason for abandonment? I guess I have this pervading nostalgia when I think about her. It makes me feel gutted, empty and woozy. I reel at the hollow space in my soul where love once shown brightly. I don’t intend on nourishing that avenue much either, as the future days climb up upon us. I need to discover self-sufficiency and interdependence. I can do that, though it’s hard and hurts sometimes.

I have a lot of time to think about this stuff… probably why I’m so hungry to write… a deep need for understanding is filled by the acknowledgement of my words. I report my progress to others, but really, no one is here paying attention to what I’m doing with my moments. I’m left to my own devices, which has some benefits and also some clear drawbacks. I’m not the best keeper of tasks, I’m not the best motivator. I do what I can, given the circumstances.

For now, I’m just glad I have this blog: a place to reconcile my ever turbulent mind. My little slice of sanctuary. I hope you out there have one too, whatever shape that takes for your life. It’s healthy, so why not.

My arm is almost back to full power. Still have some pretty nasty pain when I extend, or push while extended. It’s the blood vessel that got fucking torched, I can see the bruising in my arm. A lot of work to do there to make my arm back to the way it was before last Tuesday.

 

Same Old Lang Syne – Dan Fogelberg

Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling, Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve

She didn’t recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried

We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged

We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn’t find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how

She said she’d married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn’t like to lie

I said the years had been a friend to her
And that her eyes were still as blue
But in those eyes I wasn’t sure
If I saw doubt or gratitude

She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was heavenly
But the traveling was hell

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another ‘Auld Lang Syne’

The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away

Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain

#461

Do you ever get to feeling small? As though under the weight of some gargantuan? I find my stillness interrupted by wandering worries; the pestilence of anxiety. Perhaps there is something more to this than the simplicity of meditation, perhaps that the more organized and objective my unique thoughts become, the more they are fulfilled by recognition. It is being seen that these feelings really only desire. They boil like a frightful sea, but in the end, they amount to little more than steam. I think I will go on struggling this way for many years to come, because how can one become so reasonable as to parse individual thoughts and emotions as though they were playing cards? I don’t think that is a reasonable objective. Instead, I’d like to suggest we practice the slow diligence of meditation; the quiet release of the breath. I find tranquility in the sound of my breathing… as it passes through me. The feeling of its arrival. The ease of its departure. Over and over.

But I’m not good at this by any stretch. I’m a work in progress, but a willing one; prepared to make discipline of a belief. In some sense, it’s one of the few things I can actively control, and yet, the capacity to do so is in need of maintenance. I don’t recoil at the thought of practice, but I do recognize it as difficult… because it is. Mindfulness.

I am in a contemplative state. I find the hours of the evening dwindling. The charisma of the day is short on exuberance, all bedded with the tired of sleep. I can’t fathom the strain of being the sky, the sun, the stars. It’s a big responsibility. Certainly more than I pretend to understand, but clearly something larger than myself. In the vast unknown of all that surrounds us, I’m little more than a blade of grass. An organism directed to survive as it should, as it was programmed to do by instinct. It’s overcoming this instinctual compulsion that lies at the heart of my contemplative meditations. I have a measured control over it now, where before it ran free, unbroken, untamed. Instinct can drive the gears of survival, but when and where? My “execute appropriate emotion” command is totally fucking broken. We know this by now. I need a chance to catch my feelings by their coat-tails and address them. I yearn for these emotions to get what they want, the attention of understanding. Isolating them, stuffing or otherwise not coping will only imbibe failure.

I wonder about the future, not in the usual anxiety-driven sense, but instead, with an openness to what unexpected things await us all. We’re just as likely to go on with or without inspiration, but it is the randomness of time, the whim of change, that never-ending puzzle of chance… that is the mystery of life, of living. We don’t become alive and aware to then NOT pay attention to our world. People are driven by their senses, they are our strongest guides. But trust them as they should be, not becoming more than they can ever be. Our minds are a sense too, because it there that we make the decisions based on sensation, or input. We trend as we were built.

To break free of restraint is to understand the depths of the self. This is the primary objective in my introspective life reconstruction effort. I’m determined to build myself up strong, and solid as I am, for who I am, for what I can be.

It’s my hope that this blog, this little creative outlet I have for my thoughts, can mark the tides coming in and out. They are on the rise now, and may be headed to never before seen heights. We may be headed for disaster. Who knows? That’s why we play the game.

Gospel Of Progress

I’m proud of myself right now. I know things COULD be zooming right along at hyper-speed… but in reality, I’m much happier with the pace we’re on now (even if I give myself a hard time about it). I’m able to look at what I have to do without the clutter of additional responsibilities hanging around to make that harder. I can focus on my objectives, accomplish measurable steps en route to success. Goals I have, and lay down carefully as to not derail myself by overwhelming the system. I know I’m fragile, as my past has indicated. History deserves respect, else, how do we hope to evolve beyond our limitations?

I’m launching this week. I sure hope I get that DoR call and can start going to MHS. But even if I don’t get the call, I have things to do. I, with my dear Moo, are launching our business together, finally, after talking about doing it for weeks. I went ahead and claimed the Etsy page, and Facebook page as well. We’re calling ourselves: Dig That Jewelry. Nice huh? We are working on photographing out stock right now, and we’ll soon be rolling along with a fully-operational store and whatnot. Once we get a ground-floor laid down, we can expand into weekend shows and craft fairs. In truth, this is a project based on an abundance of time and a commitment of effort. This will not be at all successful unless we dump time and energy into it. Which we are prepared to do.

I also posted an ad on craigslist looking for short-term computer repair work. I don’t know if this will generate any leads, but eh, it’s worth trying for. I’d hope that I could get SOME work out of it. Maybe. We’ll see.

I can’t say that I agree with my ex’s assessments of my situation. I’m doing fine. I’m a bit brokenhearted still, as being abandoned takes time to get over, for me. I know inside myself, that I can do this. And I believe in myself, and the direction my life is now going. All of that is muy bueno.

I will keep the fires burning.

The “Boink” Of Reality

Remember how I said that I played 4 skirmishes and won all?

How quickly things change… because now I’ve lost 2 to Orks and Eldar. In the Eldar game, they had tier 3 infantry out before I had even started the research. Maybe I was really stoned and tired so therefore not at my best? I’m desperate for a reason to explain this anomaly of defeat. I am intent on continuing at this difficulty level, mind you. I will be challenging myself as best I can with no human opponents to lean on for variance.

Well then. It’s a new week this morning. I have my life skills class today, which I am excited about. I’m going to try to get back to that DBSA meeting, but I’m not really clicking with the lack of a coordinator. I read the lyrics to The Heart Of The Matter, and cried my eyes out. Just really bonked me yesterday. I don’t really have much to say. I’m doing fine, all things considered.

The Heart Of The Matter – Don Henley

I got the call today,
I didn’t wanna hear…
But I knew that it would come.
An old true friend of ours was talkin’ on the phone–
She said you found someone.
And I thought of all the bad luck,
And the struggles we went through–
And how I lost me and you lost you.
What are these voices outside love’s open door–
Make us throw off our contentment–
And beg for something more?

I’m learning to live without you now.
But I miss you sometimes.
The more I know,
The less I understand–
All the things I thought I knew,
I’m learning again.
I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the heart of the matter–
But my will gets weak–
And my thoughts seem to scatter–
But I think it’s about–
Forgiveness.
Forgiveness.
Even if, even if you don’t love me anymore.

These times are so uncertain–
There’s a yearning undefined.
A people filled with rage.
We all need a little tenderness–
How can love survive,
In such a graceless age?
The trust and self-assurance–
That can lead to happiness,
They’re the very things,
we kill, I guess…
Pride and competition–
Cannot fill these empty arms!
And the work I put between us,
You know doesn’t keep me warm.

I’m learning to live without you, now.
But I miss you, baby.
The more I know, the less I understand.
All the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again.
I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the heart of the matter–
But everything changes–
And my friends seem to scatter–
But I think it’s about–
Forgiveness.
Forgiveness.
Even if, even if you don’t love me anymore.

There are people in your life who’ve come and gone–
They gonna’ let you down–
You know they hurt your pride!
Better put it all behind you; cause’ life goes on…
You keep carrin’ that anger, it’ll eat you up inside, baby…

I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the heart of the matter,
But my will gets weak–
And my thoughts seem to scatter–
But I think it’s about–
Forgiveness.
Forgiveness.
Even if, even if you don’t love me…

I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the heart of the matter
Because the flesh will get weak–
And the ashes will scatter–
So I’m thinkin’ about–
Forgiveness.
Forgiveness.
Even if, even if you don’t love me…

Soap With A Prize Inside

The bounty of reason is understanding, and paired with it are the stern disciplines of learning. Pestilent eruptions of the sour state can perturb the objective. I find my medley in the mass-confusion of anxiety-laden emotions, and the “cool change” of logic. I have a subject determined by the shifts of the air, and a temperament as turbulent as planes under altitude. I have the sown seeds of beneficence; instructed from the start by the gilded hands of unconditional love. Who’s prosperous heights did rival the towers of old; who’s decadent exuberance did cast the boy into the role of joy. I comprehended the innocence of love without condition or end. Only then to be challenged in the elementary institutions of public conformity. Where identity went by the wayside, and the acceptance of the horde assumes a paramount position of importance. In the frail summer of trials, I was baked and subsumed into the larger entity of community, population. Scored by the masses unperturbed, then cowering to standards beneath moral cooperation. Individuality gone, bored and lost in pages of nonsense. In the forum of society, sallow urine stained bedsheets and all, twisted into a sickly sweet subversion of the self. Becoming a fool, jester of the corporate front. Undoing the scars of history, bound forever to recognition, trying in emulated gestures. Profoundly unaware as the density of bricks. But this is where we are. All hands raise the colors of combat. A duel between the contained and the unrestrained. Assaults the memory with a firey fragrance built to fruition. Totaled and rolling down the sum, passes like moons over the stars; behind the darkness is want.