Routines

Now that things are finally starting to fall into a pattern, I am feeling a sense of relief and peace. My schedule has been accelerated since starting full time for NAMI last month, but the rewards of occupation are numerous. I find myself feeling more active and I have lost 13 pounds without the aid of excessive exercise. I find my mental acuity to be improved since smoking was not a part of my every two hour routine. I get a lot of shit done these days, and wondering about the ways I can take on more things.

Not overburdening myself though, mind you. I have a limit and it is not yet reached.

Personally, things have been better. My new pattern is becoming very familiar, and so to are the benefits of mutuality. I have taken the step of reaching back out to my ex to be a friend to her. I felt terrible about her status of not having anyone to talk to or relate with about the struggles she faces. Still, I am hoping this proves to benefit our dynamic and not present further things to fall apart over. I know full well the help I can provide and the limits of that assistance. Being isolated and unrelated to is awful and I never want her to feel that.

My future is looking increasingly like a real person’s life. Aspirations of independence, fiscal stability and a ceiling of upward expansion that has yet to be fully reached. I know my life is changing, and so much of it is for the better. There are still some things which will take time to resolve or become clear how things are to be delegated, divided or otherwise dealt with. Still figuring out a way forward that works best for everyone is not entirely clear.

 

 

Grindy Grind

After more than 6 months of working from home, I am back in a physical space of employment to fulfill my new full time hours. The transition has been refreshing but tiring. From unstructured mush pile to the rigidity of alarms, bedtimes and long commutes – these have been the agents of positive fundamental change. I’m feeling more awake, refreshed and alert than ever before.

I have been thinking a lot about my recent past. As you know, I disconnected from my ex a few months back after a bit of waffling by both of us on our dwindling future together. The second time she called it off I feel like it stuck despite my denial at the time. I knew there was nothing there for me anymore, other than to serve as a repository for woe. In a relationship that nourishes, both parties have an equity of relevance, conversation and affection. When one partner is dying, this dynamic is skewed. There was no healthy balance in that situation, I learned… only a role defined by unending support, attentive listening and unquestioning understanding.

There was no space for individuation amidst a crisis which looms larger than any other mutual issue. I found that even though I was desperately needed to be that support person, I too was suffering a death of happiness, of dreams, of a memory of what that relationship was before cancer. When I finally severed my ties, I did so only out of self preservation. My depression was growing as the lifespan of my partner faded. With no remedy in communication, we split from a unified path and spiraled off in utterly distant directions.

I feel guilty all the time for choosing to help myself and not help her. I could not survive the dynamic, and she knew I would not and tried to end things peacefully long before it reached the point of despair I allowed it to arrive at. I feel a pain for her, but I knew that there was little to nothing left to gain by prolonging the inevitable separation of priorities that awaited us as she neared the end of her life.

So, about the time that I ended things with her, I began exploring options for a healthier dynamic. In truth, I did this initially so I could express some pride in myself. I think I’m a good person, definitely interesting, and I have a lot to offer in terms of companionship. Why not advertise that confidence in a context where I can be appreciated fully?

I did just that, despite my sorrow. I stepped forward and into a future where my life situation was not a constant source of depressed thoughts and feelings. I sought conformation, and got it from myself, and from others.

While I have been actively out here voicing my pain, and reflections on my past, I have been working on rebuilding my reality around a dynamic that nourishes instead of depletes. I needed to be appreciated, understood and ultimately loved by someone who was seeing the entire picture of who I was. Lofty expectations, I know.

At the cost of abandoning one life, I have forged another. With the toll of pain, I have entered a new stage. I uncompromisingly decided to live my life where my health and well-being are the primary concern, then followed by the energy I have to give to the other people. I will not live FOR anyone but myself. This does not mean I am selfishly absorbed in my own pleasure, but my health comes first before I render assistance. I do help, a lot, every day, and this too nourishes me because I am able to give my energy freely, without concern of an unintentional relapse into a darker place. Did I hurt her on my way out? Undoubtedly yes… but she knows as well as I that there was no happy future, no time of promised tranquility on the road we were walking together… and now that time is over.

This rant is not absolution, since I live with the guilt. This rant my proclamation of change. I have stated time and time again that I would not be willingly mired in depression and sadness if there was something proactive I could do about it. I have taken my positive steps and now the future I have in mind looks much more healthy and functional than it did in the recent past.

No amount of penitence can absolve me of my sadness over her, but a brighter way forward is the proof of self worth I need to construct a better life for myself.

Anxiety

I think about the good times of relative mental stability I’m having. How long will this last? Spinning…

My mom is of deteriorating health. She refuses to admit the problem or get help. She struggles on in stubborn silence and suffers the consequences of neglect. Dad is already dying. Getting weaker by the day. His spirit is strong, but once he becomes unable to speak, he won’t want to be alive anymore.

The future of these things happening has become suddenly apparent for some reason. Is this a rush of anxiety? Do I now realize my station is contingient on having a parent to take care of? I needed to find a way to sustain beyond this limited role, and I have not done so of late. I have not secured a future beyond the shortening lifespan of my parents.

All along the way, I had hoped to sustain a relationship that would be my “net” once the parent world fell apart. I thought I had this in some limited capacity before (with K), but now realize I’m back to zero. I have as much to give as I ever have, but I have more energy than my parents have time left to enjoy it. Things are leaning towards decay, at an ever increasing pace. I wonder now what I am doing, and if I am safe to continue doing so into the foreseeable future.

I gamble all on the devotion of love.

I will always be there for my parents, even if it ruins me in the process. I owe them everything, and I will give everything I have if it will help them have a better transition. I have nothing to lose. No property. No wealth. I have only my time, energy and words to give to them for as long as I can. The end seeming nearer than it has been before.

I also must try to find someone who can understand my plight and still love me all the same. I have not given up hope, but it is not a viable thing to invest much time in. I am trying but who knows what will come of it. I have had glimmers of success, to be followed by sadness (in recent memory). I have no more allowance for excessive sadness in my dynamic anymore. I’m full on woe.

 

Good luck me. Keep my path all the same! Persevere (and find evidence of life on Mars)!

Blam

Well, fuck, Blog. Here we are at another cul de sac. Life has reset back to an uninteresting state.

I feel like cold potatoes.

Something good will inevitably come of all this trial and error. Trial and trial. Smash and pancake.

One is gone, but hope remains for a future where fun things are happening.

Button press. Beep. Boop.

Here we go again.

With Feeling?

I wish I could write it all out; just how I’m feeling inside… but the haze continues to obscure. I thought breaking away would being the calm I had been seeking… but instead, a chasm has opened. In to it go all my silent words, all the pain I had been stashing. Emptied.

Now, though… I’m finally alone in my circumstance. All the stress is gone, but the misery remains.

I still don’t know who I am, or what I want. I have so much left to give, and a lot of work still to do. Life is meant to be thought of with the arrow pointed up. My arrow is nowhere to be found at the moment.

I am going away for a while. I am walking about to find who I am right now, and what going forward means to me. When I come back, hopefully I will have learned something.

So

Nothing about this is beyond the realm of understanding. It’s never been about irrationality. Good to have it for as long as is possible, then, no more. Death.

I can’t control anything but who I am and where I direct my attention. Time to mourn, and move forward. Survival is stronger than greif.

Perilous. The road is filled with tears. But redemption also.

iPhone Suggestion Only Post

I’m so sorry 😐. Hahahahaha you know what? I’m glad to hear that you’re going to be home soon. I love you 💕. I hope you are having some wonderful day and a good evening to be safe. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you back from your pain yet. I’m so proud to be able to get my life together soon. Hahahahaha sorry babe I’m sorry babe sorry. I’m so proud to say I am a good morning person and love you so much and you always look beautiful and you can love me babe.

I love the way you can get the stuff to be taken off and you have no not no problem at you. I’m glad to you have a good job 👍 was there something to you babe and you were doing a yes. I’m so proud of you 👍 was your birthday 🎂 I love you 😘.

————

Wow. If this is any indicator of the most frequent words I type I need to mix it up a bit. iPhone suggestions humble my limited vocabulary skills down to “sorry,” “love,” and “babe.”

I do think I say more things than this but the activity of having iPhone decide my dialogue has been revealing. I like how it recommends emojis even though I don’t use them. I don’t speak that language. Im disappointed in myself.

The Voyage Home

I’ve been in Mobile since Friday, departing this afternoon for California. This trip was longer than my last, which gave me time to become acclimated to being with K. It felt like a life together. It was as a very positive trip, with the specter of cancer still ever present.

This morning I broke down. And now too. I’m having a difficult time holding off my sadness and tears. I want to have this life, but so many obstacles and uncertainties are in the way. The unclear future has yet to reveal a long term forecast and that absence sends my anxiety looking for things to speculate about.

One thing I do know is that I love her and it would not be hard to be her partner in a practical sense. I have a confidence in myself and a fear of the unknown. This circumstance is stressful, but also full of love, and friendship.

But I have to go home now. I have to say goodbye to my girl and lock her away inside my phone; until we see each other again. I am holding you in my heart K. I hope we emerge from this tough time stronger, as I am strengthened in facing my pain by the inspirational way you address the difficulties of life. Never have I been more proud to be someone’s partner. That’s what makes goodbye so hard. That’s why I’m crying while I type this little post. I’m scared, and I don’t know what’s coming for us. What I do know is that I’ll love you loyalty and truly for as long as you are around to be loved.

So goodbye K, and may this not be our last adventure together.

The Feels

What is the right way to be? Is it who I’m needed to be, or is it just “me?” In the past, I have become who I believed I was supposed to be, for the person that I partnered with I have learned that making oneself fit into a cookie cutter often leaves bits chopped off, or gaps.

Being disconnected from the way K did a few days ago was painful, because it felt like it was also a condemnation of the quality of which I love. As if to say: she felt she’d be better off without my presence in her life, despite her intention to protect me from a perceived future calamity. Said calamity is a growing possibility, but admittedly, not yet set in stone. What I do know, and she came to discover, is we only have the time we have. How we spend that time is ultimately ours to decide. I do not still feel hurt by this, mind you, because she did miss my presence in her life and did not like the feeling of my absence. This turn of circumstance has allowed me to be much more rapidly introspective about the whole thing.

Now, however, I find myself being “clingy.” I got let go of once, I’d like to ensure that it doesn’t happen again due to some sort of neglect on my part. Am I not hearing her? Am I not there for her like I ought to be? Am I telling her how I feel about her enough? So, naturally, this is a sort of panic reaction. I’m noticing it, I’m doing something to regulate the urgency of this unproductive prerogative. I do need to establish that the lines of communication should be wide open, because we only succeed together in total honesty.

I hurt her too a few months ago, when I she felt stifled her sharing about what she was going through with her cancer treatments. This has had a lasting effect, and now there is a barrier of hesitancy between us that distresses me. I understand why she feels this way too… I’m still grappling with how to be in my role in our relationship, given the torment of her every waking moment. I long to “do” something but sometimes the only thing the “do” is be there, talk, laugh and try and move the time along. Share something, have a distraction to engage in. Most importantly though, is proximity, and physical comfort. This is the thing I can’t do, which makes for the source of my emotions. It’s a tough role to mark our first 6 months together, but I’m working my way through this just as she is.

This rant has a point. That is: we are humans trying to survive a particularly stressful circumstance. I struggle, she struggles, I help her up sometimes and other times she’ll help me. Partnerships are built on being equals when you can be, and allies when you need to be. The brand of love I bring is the unconditional variety, which makes me both vulnerable and naive. I long to be loved back the same way, because having someone that close who will protect you when times get tough is the core of surviving this world. Allies are essential to success and establishment of identity. Whether its friends or partners, we need people to reflect back to us who we are, and what space we occupy in the world.

K is my partner, and even if she wanted to brave this thing alone, she still has me, and I’m going to the edge with her if need be. I’m loyal to her cause and I’m desperate to have her in my life for as long as I can. Losing her artificially was toxic, and losing her for real is still a possibility. I would like to do what I can to help her through this particularly dark time. I’m counting on having her, but I know I could lose her. I will take every precious chance to be in her orbit, however distantly. For who she is, for what she believes in and how fiercely she fights… I believe she will emerge from this hardened.

Who am I? I’m still me. I only have a switch that goes from LOVE to OFF and right now that bad boy is stuck open. I only know one way to be a partner, and that’s in admiration of the one who chose me, and a respect to myself to keep that person she loves still vital, healthy and not crushing myself into a cookie cutter mold.  Staying honest to myself helps me stay strong and aware of issues when they emerge (being mentally ill: issues always emerge). I can only control who I am, and who I am is a work in progress.

Back To Normal

It was hard, those three days of heartbreak. Now, however, that time has passed. In its place is the regularity of the schedule we were enjoying before all hell broke loose.

I feel vindicated in a way, like I’m not the abhorrent person I thought I was based on the reaction of being cut off from my partner. Take that, voice of self-doubt!

I go see her in 6 days, which I’m excited about naturally. Cross country flight. Night boy will need all his night skills for this trip.

I love her and I’m with her no matter what happens at this point. Good or bad, I love her.

 

Don’t let me go K.

And Then…

K came back! Like me, she suffered immensely in the extended hiatus and longed for what we had. My pain was hers, as she too struggled with her feelings. Should I be exiled to be “protected” or kept close until whatever end?

She decided keeping me close was easier than trying to push me away. Plus, her doctor said something to the effect of: “hey, you know, brain tumors can do some pretty crazy shit to your emotions and reasoning.” Prompting a reconsideration of her decision to keep me out of the circle. Plus, my blog posts here have been particularly saturated with sorrow and sad boy, which also had an unintended but highly beneficial effect.

Today I know her text is coming, and the feeling that brings me is one like a fountain of exciting bubblegum. Like a lizard that is warm on a rock. Like the smell of your favorite shoes. I think that pretty much says it all.

Clasped

I love like a prayer, whispered as though being heard exclusively, desperately by the ears of someone who understands.

Feeling within an ache and a tumult; like storm waves lashing coastal rocks. I roil, but soon, the tide will flow out and the wasted shore will be laid bare.

More than anything, to be back in the sunlight of her favor. To hear the tone of her voice and her laughter like dandelion kisses on my cheeks. I remember her sweetly like pollen in the breeze. I long to be back, for however long I can be, until her light goes out. If indeed it ever does.

To face the darkness of the world without her is lingering in an eclipse without end. She lives yet she is gone, hidden from casting her radiance wide upon my world. A flourish of that magic that inspired my soul to give itself to her.

The bleak shadow of the darkened moon bleeds into the astral blackness of the chasm that divides us. Cast me down, into that void… reaching for the dwindling horizon. I’m drowning. I’m vanishing.

Yearning to Absolve

I wish I knew how to feel differently; to wipe away the congealed pain like grease on a skillet. Instead, I’m left pondering my loneliness.

Absolution is a hope but not a realistic one. Only those who frequent delusions can lock themselves out of reality fully… where I am left grappling with the truth.

I miss her like a spectral limb. The empty vastness of my life now apparent, I’m seeking a remedy to the sudden and harsh lack of communication.

I toil on.

Broke

Well K decided the relationship is over. After this, I’m not sure what I’ll do. My chest hurts. My nose is all stuffy. My tears won’t stop. I gave what I had and now she’s done.

No more daily person. No more good morning messages. No planning period conversations. No note that she made it to her car. I loved being her support person and I adored her presence in my life. Now that is gone. The hole it leaves behind hurts me.

Move on to the next day. One step forward now alone. Soldier on into the nothing with no one there. No hand to hold. No future to dream about. I’m broken with my heart wide open. I miss you already. I miss you always.

Magic Beans

I wish I was able to give her a bean and her pain would go away. A magical bean that lifted the burdens of worry and anguish. A bean to save the day, as beans so rarely do.

But sadly, I have no bean. I only have my own sense of inadequacy, frustration, and sadness.

If only I had a bean that would fix everything. What a happy little bean that would be! Hooray legume of power!

All I have is my love, devotion and upcoming trip this month to bestow my physical compassion on my lovely girlfriend, as she fights to the bitter end with her cancer.

We will get through this, with or without beans.

 

Chemo K

My girlfriend has a cancerous tumor on her spine, and she is well into a month plus of heavy chemo. The toxic sludge she has to ingest wrecks every part of her body, and is pushing her right to the brink of death. For me, I know there is no way to shield her from the pain, or the symptoms… but I can be compassionate, loving and humorous at relevant intervals. This is what I can do from far away. Empathy, compassion and understanding are my tools. She is now also receiving radiation treatments to help destroy the tumors, with an accompanying set of additional side effects. My heart breaks for her, but there is little I can do to make her day-to-day life less agonizing.

I am eager to get back to Mobile and see her in person, so I can be a physically useful person in her immediate proximity. How can I relieve the biggest burden, the pain, if I am not there to actually carry the load? I’m going to put my tax return to good use and let Uncle Sam pay my way to the deep South next month and get a few days of relief in line for her. Plus, all her friends and family have come out of the woodwork now that she has a diagnosis and many are offering help of some sort. I’m glad she has that support network to rely on.

My therapy session was focused on my role in this new predicament. I feel both glad for the love I feel, and afraid of all the potential negative outcomes. I have anxiety, yes, but it does not own my processes. Worry is healthy, and a response that I feel is somewhat appropriate to reflect the gravity of the subject matter. I love someone who is going to come very close to death, and that’s a scary thing.

I know I need to be there, and I will be for a time. K is unbelievably strong. Her strength helps me keep my mind on the positive, and the inevitable victory she will achieve over this unwanted intruder. I hope I can help her somehow… I don’t really think I do much but distract her. That is relief, at least.

Have a good week everyone.

 

Hi

I’m checking in for the first time in a while. I have been sliding down into a depressed state for many weeks now, and I am starting to use my coping tools to help me find a way back up. I have already begun this turn to some degree but coming back here and writing my thoughts out is a big part of how I process.

My depression is lubricated by the circumstance of K having cancer and engaging in a knock-down, drag-out brawl to liberate herself from it. It’s a very real possibility that she will not be here at the end of this struggle, and that chills me in a cold-knife-to-the-intestines kinda way. I do try to keep my optimism and attitude positive but I won’t hide that I’m scared. I gave her every part of myself that I had to give, and she could be gone. More than just that though, I feel detached from myself like I’m watching my reality through a screen and I have the joystick in my hands. I don’t feel like there is much I can do to influence anything… I feel ineffectual somehow. Irrelevant maybe is the better word. I have lost a sense of what I am good for, what I am doing and why I am doing it. Is anything I do making a real difference? Are people benefitting from the energy I give? Am I even giving enough in the first place? There is a voice of nagging negativity and dubiety plaguing me from afar. Work has felt like a black hole since we lost our office. I’ve had a very hard time establishing a routine since there is no physical location to drive to. I end up somewhere between serious and relaxed, composed and decomposing. I need to get out of this house and I have been contemplating ways I could have a remote location where I do work. I’m actively problem solving my circumstances. Lastly, I just feel that neurochemical imbalance… slow, sad, unexcited, bored, anxious. It’s an all the time stagnant haze which my flashlight only further illuminates rather than provides me with any clarity on the path forward.

Though these thoughts and feelings do haunt me, they are a small fraction of the pervading good that I feel in my life. Many positive things are happening in my world that are cause to be hopeful: I have a wonderful woman in my life who knows me and loves me for who I am; she is with me every day whether physically present or not. I have a loving family that is willing to work on improving their  communication skills. I just traded in my 15 year old Dodge for a new Nissan truck! I have a job where being mentally ill isn’t something I need to hide, it’s something that qualifies me to do the work that I do. We just bought a new house for my mom and dad and I, in a very beautiful area just up the freeway from Sacramento. Life has never been as good as it is about to be.

I have these dialectical thought processes: I take the good and the bad and respect both while not siding conclusively with either aspect. I often proceed with things having considered both the positive and negative aspects of said things (or, I try to). I can love/hate with the best of them. I think this keeps me from being too stubborn, or too closed minded. I like having things to add to either column, and since the balance favors the less objectionable option, I have the ability to be moved on issues where most would be unwilling to acquiesce. It also helps me not get too lost in my depression, because I can still see the good too. I know there is sadness, and sometimes it is the only thing I feel… but I also know that the sadness will pass on to something else if I help it do so. A distraction, or a game, a good conversation, a hug if you can get one for sure but we don’t always have someone to hug. There are things I can do for myself to help me get out of this place and that’s what I’m going to be pushing for in the days ahead.

I need to get this body moving again and continue my better eating habits. I have a plan of action to help restore my vital energy and eccentric spunk I’m so often known for. I am coming back, one doofy comment at a time.

Alabama

Your worry is a shroud of fog that hides a vast world underneath. A veiled reality that the future and events have not yet made clear. I wish I could help you see through to the truth of what can be.

You fret over me but I know this is out of a fear that love will fade as it has in the past; with other men. You are not wrong to fear. Trauma teaches us to be afraid of circumstances expecting an outcome. Those triggers will fire but not be ratified with harm. I am not like the others you have known.

What I don’t think you see is how much you are a part of me now. I know you understand I’m in love, but do you know I feel you in my blood; pumping through my heart? Do you know my every wish is to be together with you? I’d give anything to have that life with you, even amidst the ensnaring mess you find yourself entangled in. Even from this, there is escape. There is hope.

You are my person now, and I am doing everything I can to help you out of where you are. I wish to help launch you into a future you can thrive in. I see you: crinkled, I oppressed and downtrodden. Your life has you confined. Chained. I’m honest in my desire to rid you of those chains forever. One by one, they will be cast aside.

If only you’d believe me. If only I could convince you that it could be real. It’s not a fantasy if it is our reality. It’s only as far off as we allow it to be. I need you K.

I hope this message challenges your doubt for us. I hope it makes you question that fear you have that I may leave. You’ll see my devotion here, my desire for a healthy life. Not just mine either.

Find your rest and reconcile your anxiety. Tomorrow is a day where I take one more step closer to you, and us.

A Gift To Me

I haven’t been checking in as much as I have in the past. I think this is for a couple reasons: I’m profusely distracted with work things and also in love, so everything is a little brighter. I have that ambiance of tranquility around me and my days feel purposeful as a result of my ongoing interactions with K. That doesn’t mean I don’t also feel down, or exasperated at times. Sometimes I just feel worn out, like there’s no tread left on the balding tire of my available energy. These two things, one not outweighing the other, provide me with a version of reality I can thrive within at the beneficence of stability. I find myself continually making moves in my reality to improve outcomes, promote a more prosperous state of mental wellness, and develop a support structure that can carry me forward as life procures new and tragic events, at random disbursements.

I have to be mindful of my mental health as a top priority. I have done a fairly good job of being introspective in this regard. I did have days where I struggled, and felt depressed in the last few months. I had other days where I was happy or content with my situation. I saw no acute peaks and no devastating troughs and did not linger in any one state for too long. I feel remarkably balanced and expectedly fatigued from my life and schedule. I did take time for myself and I’ve, notably, had a harder time getting back plugged in to my routine since visiting K. This has been the only thing I have felt concerned about in any way. Now, the burden of work will lessen as the holidays approach.

On that front, I bought K a round-trip to CA from AL on Christmas morning. She’ll stay for a week and I deliver her to the airport on new years day. Her situation didn’t seem like it would yield the available funds to procure a ticket in enough advanced notice not to be exorbitant in cost. So, I did it. She’s never been out west anywhere before and this will be pretty mind-blowing for her. Our future together is still years apart, but this exchange of company and trips to each other’s worlds was a necessary step in forming a more permanent bond. Being a part of her reality is something I can now actively imagine as I have been a visitor to her world, for a time. Now she will get the opportunity to do the same for my reality.

I am more than willing to demonstrate my desire to invest in a future with K, and this ticket seemed like a good way to do that.  I love her, and I just want to be able to continue taking steps towards a time where we can be together like cheese and tortillas. It seemed worth the money to have her here again in my arms. Money can’t compare to the way she makes me feel: Like exploding sparkle-berries.

Well, have a good day, and I’ll check in with you more often going forward.

Back

In short: it was more than I ever expected. My trip to see K was an affirmation of all the feelings I’d been having and the proof of concept that the physical part of our relationship was good. It was very good. We have a symbiotic relationship with overwhelming sensation and generosity. It’s a functional dynamic I’ve rarely seen in my life. Most importantly, it’s a compliment to our relationship and not the foundation as in times past.

K is the person I’ve been looking for on my journey. A real equal companion. I’m so grateful to have her in my life and I want our worlds to be brought together. I know that day is far off still but worth keeping in mind and working towards.

The threads pull tighter. The affirmations provide strength. The road is long ahead still however.

Going

I’m fewer than 55 hours from flying across the country to see my girlfriend for the first time. We started counting down 52 days ago, and here we are with fewer than 3 days left to go.

I can say I’m very excited. Scared a little too. I’m going far from my safety zone. However, I do know that I will be loved and appreciated where I am going. K and I have been speaking with the frequency of a married couple, and the passion of two halves separated and waiting to be rejoined. I feel a burning for her that, as I have stated, I have not felt in years. Since J.

 

Now that the certainty of our union is nigh, I feel a sense of satisfaction with my situation. Life is stable for the most part. My career is humming along nicely. My mental health is in fair standing (with the occasional blip).

I did hear Sting’s “Why Should I Cry For You” and it tore me a new/old wound. It’s amazing how much love I had for J that the echoes of my hurt still remain to this day. It scares me a little that I feel the same yearning for K. I don’t ever want to hurt like I did when J left me. K is a very different person though. We love, we perish in flames, we are reborn of the soot of our prior demise.

I will have 3 days of absolute bliss. I feel the push and pull of my dialectic, but now, the superior sensation is ecstasy. The only tingle that pervades is that of anticipation for that moment when her apartment door closes, and we are alone at last.

Upbeat

I haven’t been writing much as a coping tool lately. I guess that would be because I’m not suffering any emotional turbulence in my world that has caused me to reach for more tools. In truth, things are both up and down, but my mood remains “flat.” I don’t mean that negatively, just that there isn’t any vacillation to my states for the most part. I’m going from content to blissful at times, with the occasional bout of stress and pressure.

This all seems pretty normal to me, and does not require massive elaboration to process things that need to be dealt with,

I am in love for sure. head over heels. Topsy-turvey. It is quite a sensation, reminding me of another person I loved wildly who also lived in the deep south. This new feeling though is much more grounded, explored and vetted than any interaction I had with J. These interactions with K have proven that his is a real relationship grounded in commonalities, desire, ambition and friendship. K and I have much more to our partnership now then J and I ever had at any point in our relationship.

Having the physical barrier of being 2400 miles apart has helped cement our interest in each other for lots of other reasons that aren’t lust. Don’t get me wrong, the physical attraction is great, but it shouldn’t be the thread that ties the knot. Physical companionship should be the icing on the cake to make the thing all the more sweet. Embellishment, not essential to the existence of the partnership or love.

We have found ways to be caring and affectionate despite our distance. Every day we are in contact. We are present in each other’s lives. We are learning so much about our pasts and per paring for a future where we can be together. I’m flipping out in my brain about how many emotions and sensations she makes me feel… its like nothing I’ve felt in a very long time. I am devoted to this woman, and she to me.

So things are going pretty damn good. How can life really get me down when my heart is just overflowing with the feels. I feel like I have a friend in my world, and soon, a lover to lie beside. I’ll be there in just a few weeks, where we will finally be in each other’s arms, and in bed together at last.

Blast From The Past?

I feel both remorse and jubilation given all the things I have been through. So many tries at love, and a litany of failures to look back at. I always believe the litter of past transgressions can be removed, leaving a pristine landscape once more, but it does require energy, time, patience to clean it away. I have endeavored to do my part but it was never a thing that could be done alone.

I get the distinct feeling J is still out there, lurking. She being liberated of he need to find a resolution or a process designed to heal, I am simply followed by a vague shadow of someone I once loved devotedly. I find this regrettable. My whole trajectory in the last 6 years has been geared towards helping build bridges and healing people… yet, I can’t heal her. I can’t even talk to her anymore without having my soul ripped in half.

I know her accusations are the only thing she has left to harm me with (and she has), as they are an instrument that can affect change. I regret who I was, and I would change any number of things that happened to produce better outcomes… but the sad fact remains that fretting about my past is not going to change it in any way, ever. The only thing I have left is to try and build a better future for myself.

I don’t know how to bridge the vast chasm that now exists. From my peer support perspective, all healing begins with  open, honest conversation. All steps forward that build us up do not also suppress the feelings/emotions/traumas of the past.

In my new life that I have made, I find myself feeling proud of my accomplishments and not ashamed of who I was in an active way. What good does shame do me? I can’t walk forward with it on my back. I can only hope to reconcile the a source for myself since I am unable to control anyone else’s perceptions. My door has always been open, and remains so to any relic of the past who desires to move beyond what was done, into what can be. Shame is not the answer, systemic change is the only remedy.

Maybe because I am feeling these same feelings I had for J that this is coming back. It seems to be a very odd coincidence… I’ll keep you posted if it turns out to be just a Hunter-Seeker.

 

 

 

Days

I haven’t been here in a bit since things are going very well. I have found real love again; the giddy and fluttery variety. It’s been 7 years since I felt this way, and I haven’t even touched her yet.

I just need to continue to stay focused on my life and my responsibilities, which I am doing a good job at.

So much good is happening beside the stagnation of tragedy. It’s difficult to comprehend sometimes.

Long-Distance

I’m going to give this a try having done an LDR once before with the wrong person. In this new arrangement, there’s plenty to be happy about, and no frantic rush to implement. This scenario is FORCED to start off with knowing, friendship and the accumulation of trust before lives come together. It’s perfect for me!

But having someone to talk to every day who is keeping track of my life… that has invaluable worth. If nothing else, I feel significantly less alone than I did a few days ago. It was nice having “A” but “K” is a much better fit for my life and personality. We are common in our desire to achieve, strive and excel. What an inspiration! I think I made “A” into more than she was, but that veil didn’t shroud the truth of her motivations indefinitely. K is flamboyantly, attractively assertive and in-control of her own outcomes in a way I find irresistable.

So here’s to 2,400 mile friendships and the possibility of something more years down the road.

Today

I guess I’m feeling better today. I have been distracted which is good. I spend time venting out here when I am not doing well, hence the polarized expressions and antic disposition. I just need to focus on being me for now, and not worry about companionship.

I am not forcing the issue and will let things happen in a natural way (if at all). I recognize that I’m not the easiest person to love, but I do think it’s out there somewhere.

Farewell

My dating account will go unused in lieu of how terrible I feel about it all. What am I doing? I need some time to myself. This grasping for companionship is stupid and wrong. I still hurt in my heart and I’m already moving to the next distraction. Shame.

Instead I’m going to not be a dick. I’m in no shape to be in a partnership. I have too much life right now. My situation does not lend itself to a liberty of choice. I’m not focused on the right things.

I have better things I could be doing. There’s still a lot of shit I need to be responsible for. I have a reality to occupy my attention indefinitely. I’m all done.

Before The Group…

I’m sitting here getting ready for my support group. I will admit I’m having some symptoms: anxiety is spiking, depressed thoughts are chewing away at me, and a general sense of dread hangs overhead.

I long for that daily conversation I used to have with A. Now there is a silence that my wheels spin frantically in. I was engaged, and now, no one really cares what happens in my world.

I’ve started talking to other women. There are a few that have responded to my replies. I’m kinda rebounding hard, but this is what happened last time. I had a falling out only to be picked back up again almost immediately. I’m that circumstance back in June, I should have been more conservative. A and I were in bed together on our second date. I don’t want anything like that now. I’m still hurting.

I’d really enjoy talking to someone again. Having a chat buddy to catch up with on the day’s events. Someone who wants to see inside me. It’s so intoxicating to be cared about. I wish I could share my perspective with someone who admired me.

My group will go great tonight. I’ve got a lot I bring as facilitator and person living with mental illness. However, I just want tonight to be done. I’m feeling like I need to close my eyes and shut out the world for a while. I am alone here and feeling like I’m nailed to the shore as the tide comes in.

Hurt And Scraping

I guess my reconciliatory tone towards A is founded in the still-fresh ache of separation. I do still have feelings; I’m not a robot that can just shut them off.

I do think our break is for the best. You have to be in the right state of mind to be in a relationship. There were things she and I never really connected on. I had defects and so did she. The more distance I get from the break the more clearly I see things. Plus, I’m hurt by her sneaky actions activating her profile and looking for guys while we were still dating.

This probably means I’m going into silent running for the near future. I visited PS and responded to some messages, but once my premium status expires I’m not going back.

I just don’t think I’m going to find the right person on that or any dating site. I need to meet someone through one of my activities in the world. Whether at outreach or through some professional capacity, I’m hoping to align myself with like-minded individuals who share an interest in good mental health.

I had someone like that, but I scared her away and now C is long gone or entrenched in dislike. I wish it wasn’t so.

I’ll keep my doors open but I’m not seeking. I would like to make some close friends in my profession that become more. Hopefully, this process takes the time it needs to be a worthwhile investment.

Distance

Things I feel:

Hurt, alone, remorseful, unappreciated, unloved, lost, curious, frustrated and sad. 

Things I am resolved to feel:

Confident, stable, convicted, open-minded, reflective, attentive, perplexed, adaptive and proud.

Things I’d like to feel:

Trusted, loved, admired, respected, tolerated, engaged, humored, bantered-with and assured.

Real things that are also felt:

Abandoned, mismatched, unaligned, disconnected, regretful, passionate, unacknowledged, disregarded and done. 

Ownerless Album

I was feeling very confident in my affection for my girlfriend earlier today, until she made it clear we were not on the same page and became my ex. I worked for a bit on compiling this sequence of songs to (ironically) brush over the feelings of despair associated with losing love, only to find it again later in the playlist.

Mournful, yes, was the appropriate tone-setter but not the end of the story. I still feel hopeful for my cause; my desire to be loved and to give love fully. My life is still moving forward. Sharing that with “A” was what I wanted to do, but I never really believed it or committed myself fully. I discussed the possibility of going my separate way many times in therapy but now to have it play out in reality is a whole different experience. I do miss what we had while it was good, and wonder about how it went astray.

I tried to be honest with my feeling in this playlist and effusive/voluminous would be good ways to describe my enduring affection. Breaks don’t just end feelings… they hang on in a painful remembrance which makes the acuteness of my album’s emotional story ring all the more true now that I sit here listening to it again. It aches where she is missing, but I know that won’t last forever.

I have no bridges to cross out of independence to companionship… and maybe it will be that way for a while.

 

 

 

Beer Bottles & Huggy Times

Length: 74 minutes

  1. Play The Game – Queen
  2. If I Can’t Have You – Yvonne Elliman
  3. Just Like Heaven – The Cure
  4. Laid So Low (Tears Roll Down) – Tears For Fears
  5. Just A Song Before I Go – Crosby, Stills & Nash
  6. Spiderwebs – No Doubt
  7. Radio/Video – System Of A Down
  8. Drunk Sincerity – Bad Religion
  9. Beds Are Burning – Midnight Oil
  10. Let’s Go – The Cars
  11. Diamond Girl – Seals & Crofts
  12. Saturday In The Park – Chicago
  13. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  14. Escapade – Janet Jackson
  15. Just One Look – Linda Ronstadt
  16. Baby I’m-A Want You – Bread
  17. Biggest Part Of Me – Ambrosia
  18. I Want You So Bad – Heart
  19. The One – Elton John

The Break

So A and I are abruptly, suddenly over. The clues I received to her fading interest have led to her reactivation of her dating profile while we were still together. She’s now out of my life and maybe for good.

In truth, I didn’t see this as a big surprise. I do feel over-extended from expressing my affection to her and having that go unrequited. I have a lot of words, music and love to give and I hate it when its not appreciated.

Now, I’m twisting in the wind with my feelings snapping this way and that. I did and do still want companionship, but it seems I create bodies wherever I go and torch the gardens. I don’t have any regrets… I did my part to be a caring partner in all the ways I knew how. I tried to love someone who was not capable of reciprocating the way I needed her to.

Now comes he push back to relevance and strength. I have been able to withstand many such calamities and will continue to do so through this trial. I hurt, and I am sad… but I will transition on to an active state where I set goals and meet them.

Mope

I’m trying not to dwell on my discord and instead focusing my angst on creative projects. I’m dissatisfied with the outcomes in some areas of my life, but very pleased in others.

Professionally, I’m moving forward towards sustainability. I just saw my potential cap on hours increase by a bunch and that means a future of independence is closer than it was before. I know I ave a long way to go, and that circumstances outside of my finances currently dictate my residential status. This is not a point of frustration, it is simply a matter of fact.

I can “make believe” with all sorts of people. Whether family or acquaintances, it matters not. I provide a window of visible me to see through, and little else is revealed. I do this with just about everyone now that I think about it. I hate having to do it when I didn’t originally think I would… this realization of limited capacity is often a frustrating experience.

A and I though are doing good. We are talking extensively, every day. There is mutual interest, plus, she thinks I’m fucking hilarious (which I am). I make good with the funny several times a day. I care deeply about this girl and want to work on building something with her together, in an environment where we can both mutually thrive. She does think I’m strange, but I also have no filter with her so she gets the full treatment.

Now though… she’s out of reach until early next month. In the meantime, I need other people to torment but I find myself increasingly alone in my workplace and there is not usually anyone to pester, torment or even just talk to nicely. I had all these dreams of how things were going to go, and they have been dashed to some degree by the reality I live in. Fantasies is more the term I’m looking for.

I have been working on revising and improving my short stories for the Realm website. I published one of them but still giving the others a look-through. I find that the more often I walk away, then come back fresh, the better my outcomes are for finding redundancies, typos, punctuation issues and phrases/descriptors that need to be modified. This is how my symptoms are being addressed primarily, and I do feel glad to be back on this path.

As soon as I get home, it’s back to writing land.

Bloop

I’m volatile right now, I feel. I can see it in my transactions, in my expressions. I can tell I’m in a perturbed state and taking my frustrations out as cudgels. I’m divided in my angst, but enamoured in potential. Consistency has to prevail somehow, despite all this madness. I’m feeling tippy and that’s not so good. I’m responding poorly, but thankfully, I have a place to vent my thoughts. I have this sanctum to bite on as though it were my pillow. I have real feelings somewhere under here, like pain and sadness that are unresolved and won’t be. I’m trying to accept my environment, circumstance and mistakes with openness.

So yes, volatile. Feeling like I need to get back to my creative writing, which I have been trying to use as a coping tool. I can’t do much but express myself and get these words out of me. I’m glad this process is so effective at dispensing with my negative thoughts and has for more than 6 years. I’ve drenched cyberspace with my rants, outrage and idiocy unceasingly. It has been both satisfying and revolting.

Okay, off to my world to create some killer fiction.

Jerkface In Happytown

I am a jerk to some people, a star to others. I’ts amazing how perceptions vary while my demeanor pretty much remains the same. I’m done pining for C’s friendship… I have reached the end of my interest in that area. Sometimes things don’t heal… they just rot in plain sight covered over by a veil of lies and dishonesty. Lack of introspective ability leaves no solutions in sight. Farewell. If you’re fine living in this make-believe world, I am too.

Other than that disappointing outcome, I’m doing fine. I was singing today. Really feeling in love with my partner A. I was crawling all over her yesterday when she came to visit before her long trip to Tennessee. I got all my rub and sniff quotas met prior to her departure, and insisted she roll around in my sheets and get the girl smell happening in there. I should be fine until she gets back, and we talk daily anyway so that really helps us stay connected. I am always trying to heal wounds I create, but this area is a place where a lot of positive energy is flowing out of. I have a future here with her, one that we see together. A shared interest in bringing the paths of our lives into one, where we can both entertain and support each other throughout.

There’s no perfect anything, there is only life. Good and bad, annoying and wonderful, it is what it is. I am confident that I am forging a sustainable path, but we are still pretty early on into this adventure with many miles of road left to walk.

So moral: out with the frustrating, in with the appreciation. I hope A feels my love, and knows how important it is that she be available for me to chew on, and sniff as often as I need.

Promise

I’m going to use better tools; the process has begun. Creativity, exercise, expression and ventilation are the means to achieving a better path forward. Better than escape, denial and repression.

I’m back to writing again in my fiction world. A story about legacy. Story XII I do believe will be out soon on the Kingdom site.

I dislike my predicament. I’m not sure how to rectify my circumstance given that it is largely out of my control. Whether people come or go. Live or die. Care or hate. Ignore or respond. Deny or acknowledge. Suppress or express.

I have less ambiguity but more rage. The flippancy factor of life & death should not be higher than zero! Ever!

I’m embroiled but working my way through the caustic marsh. I have healthy outlets at my disposal. I do wish I had not pushed away people that could be commiserating with me. My best buddy has been distant and I know he must be going through some shit. It’s a down time all around. I do have my “A,” who has been a shining light in an otherwise dark room. I really laugh with her. Fully. Healthily. Gutturally. There’s realness there that is holding me on a narrow path toward sanity.

I’m going to handle this whole thing with tactfully responsive ineptitude, but inevitably, I’ll emerge covered in shit but alive.

Undo Button

There’s no undo in life. There is only the pain of errors and the reminders of failure. I have many things I regret, but still try to “do right” with my future actions. I attempt to demonstrate an understanding that I have learned, grown, progressed in some measurable way from the moment of transgression. Still, the inescapable burden of guilt remains.

My vomit-hole aka this blog has served a purpose in that it allows my expression an unfiltered faucet of release. Not right, not wrong, just OUT. Get these thoughts away and let them trouble me no longer! Sadly, my noxious words aren’t cured in my consciousness, only sated for a time. There will be other opportunities to vent and pour out the bile as I wrong others or am wronged.

My real life actions do not resonate with this resentment and anger that get expressed here… rather, they are purged since they had a moment to be free, recognized and detached from the bounds of active thoughts. That’s the basic principle of this place, and the reason I keep the blog going is because it works.

None of this matters though. Regret and pain still haunt me wherever I go. I’ve hurt, fled, and left smouldering ruin in my wake time and time again. I long to vocalize, rationalize, yet turn out to be a terrible person to talk with about the sensitive issues of compatibility, love and the future (or so I judge myself to be).

I sense my current partner grows tired of my pondering the coming circumstantial end of our affiliation, yet, I can’t stop thinking about it. A looming storm that is not yet here while I procrastinate understanding for the immediacy of pleasure. Nothing to be done but watch is it approaches, much like my dad’s death being somewhere on the near horizon.

I’m imploding a little today and not feeling very keen on the prospects of the future. Friends alienated, tiring of the working environment, shared doom of the collapse of the current arrangement where love is transacted. It’s a tough time. Plus, my olive branch to C was ignored and that just reinforces that I’m a fucking idiot.

Greatz

By girlfriend and I have been doing really well; great in fact. I laugh with her (uproariously), and we are communicating very effectively in all area. I’ve had my share of symptoms and so has she yet we keep working through and finding constructive ways to share. That’s what relationships are all about.

Since the med change my mood has been better and more stable. I wake up a bit more groggy but not dealing with the chronic depression symptoms. No psychotic symptoms/precursors. Things in the neurochemical department are stabilizing.

I know I’m not doing so great in the physical domain. My body feels poopy. I’m feeding it bad food consistently. I’m not getting as much exercise. Being conscious of this is half my struggle, and I’ll take the next step by avoiding the temptations of the world around me. Well, at least lower the frequency at which I partake. Small steps.

I am feeling strong in my profession and in my will to continue with my career path. I’m doing the things I need to in order to advance myself occupationally and in terms of preserving my mental health. I have ventured into new areas/opportunities and am all the more well-rounded because of it. I feel very hopeful about this trajectory I’m on, and fortunate.

What the future holds is still uncertain but I do know I’m working hard to achieve positive outcomes both professionally and personally.

I love her. I’m dedicated to building a future where my girlfriend and I can be together indefinitely. This is a happy time. I’m lucky that the circumstance has befallen me such that I’m now in this position to love, be loved and thrive.

Blap

I’m on the new meds and things are working fine so far. The antipsychotic makes me a bit drowsy in the morning still.

I’m watching Thor Ragnarok which is cute and fun. I wish I had an MCU person to share my enthusiasm with.

Baseball tonight but I’m losing vs Derpy again. Fuck.

I’m thinking about C with sorrow and regret but A with optimism and hope. I wonder what the future stress will hold for me, but I don’t have any idea what is going to happen. Is partnership going to rip me apart or hold me together? Why do I have these dreams where C is haunting me?

I think about both women but in vastly different ways. Permanence vs chaos.

I need a game to play tonight to tune me out of this conflict. This world on fire. Time to burn a village to the ground!

There’s so much I need to learn, and I’m still very much a fool.

Seeker

I haven’t given much thought to writing. I seem to be at a place in my coping where I tend to surround myself in distractions of an engaging variety, whereas this place is all about unidirectional expression. I know there is a need for this type of expressive venues, but as my symptoms grow it gets harder to manage opening up and sharing.

I have been sliding downhill slowly, which I believe is a product of circumstance and neurochemical imbalance. This decline has not been without attempts to interrupt… the most recent of which came yesterday when my psych meds were tweaked a bit. I will update the “My Fucked Up Brain and What I Feed It” page when things are set but I’m taking a different level of anti-psychotic as well as anti-depressant. I am only on morning 1 of this so news pending as far as measurable results go.

Having a partner has been a big help too. She is very joyful and loving despite having such a tough circumstance and hostile environments to live in. I have seen her bloom quite a bit since we have been dating, especially when she is in my shared living space (which is our little sanctuary).

I think about the events that led to my finding her and It’s all so coincidental yet very intentional. Just as I broke my personal ties to one woman I was fond of, my response to not be struck down by sadness, rejection and guilt led to my finding a far more suitable partner. The first circumstance was not ready, but my persistence allowed my to inherit a situation that was.

However, relationships are not a cure to symptoms; they can only enable good behaviors or deteriorate them. I find my current arrangement to be highly beneficial, but I still need to use my own coping skills to get myself right.

MH treatment is never really over, it just changes, mutates and finds a new way to inflict suffering.

Thinkypants

I got to thinking how fortunate I am. At this time in my life, I have a support person that I adore. She is a genuine fit in my life, and our differences are such that there is much to learn from each other; many things to explore. She’s already taught me so much, and dramatically improved my internet savvy.

I struggle with my feelings at times, but she inspires my strength. Critter was such a salvation at a time when most alone, contemplative and sad. I have been with my thoughts all day and having her far away aided me in realizing just how much I love her. She has a positive effect on my wellbeing and life, and I’ve seen real change since she came into frame.

I’ve been holding my logical reservations and my emotional desires in balance in my dialectical model. “Healthy” is equilibrium with introspection. I don’t feel in any way polarized, but appreciative. Here’s a woman who will put up with my nonsense; someone who improves the quality of life I once held as standard. Someone who points me towards a better future.

So I have been thinking, and feeling. I’m looking back and feeling grateful. I have such a blessing, during a very turbulent time. It’s with her help that I’ll make it through, I believe. It’s a test, and one that I’m more ready for because of her.

Insomnaburger

It may be morning for you, but already “afternoon” for me. I don’t much care for these dramatic alterations of sleep, needless to say. What mentally ill person does?

I find myself short-tempered, irritable, blurry and uncoordinated. It’s a distressing state that maybe is some form of retribution for my imbalanced life. I did imbibe this weekend, but not recklessly so (those days being behind).

I worry about my dad. Is he tumbling down the slope? Am I watching his precipitous decline and not recognizing it? How can I be so embattled and bitter when his life is slipping away? I feel like a bad son… spite pervades with each selfishly-centered transaction I am engaged in with him. It’s hard to be effectual from his standpoint, granted, but he lives in a hole of self-pleasure and hedonism. I have no respect for that, even in death. It is both disturbing and regrettable. Yet, he’s still my only dad and I’m losing time with him as each day passes. I’m stuck in a place between resentment and sadness with the voluminous thunderstorm of tragedy about to come roiling overhead.

My sex-drive has been revved up… as would be expected with the sort of symbiotic pairing I have cultivated. Does this too add to my tippy scales of mood regulation? I think fucking everything tips the scales, it just depends on how all the things coincide. There’s no escaping the affect of variables… there is only compensation, adaptation and neutralization.

So many threads hang down, dangling, reminding me of work undone and damage caused. I regret, even up to no more than a month ago, and I feel unworthy of love… and yet, I do feel it in my heart. Critter and I have been bonding in this way that feels both safe and familiar. How can such a thing be after less than a month? I can’t explain. I have no logic to justify the complexity of my emotional attachment. I am only clear that this connection is real, yet still delicate. I’m not sold on permanence until permanence is validated (which takes time). Nothing worth having is built in a few weeks… only the true accumulation of trust, consistency and knowledge will shine a light on a union built to last.

Things feel good… I know that for certain.

Today is the start of week 14 (of 26). We are more than half way through and shit is pretty tight all across the spectrum. Here’s hoping a couple of recently injured fellas are able to hop back in the saddle do rad cowboy things with some hat waving.

Yesterday’s Flapjacks

I keep finding things I regret in my scoring:

.3 per put out is way too much. This makes 1B the most valuable position player in the game

1.25 per batter DPT is too much. Nerfed.

-.6 per K for batters is not harsh enough. Strikeouts are a sin against the Baseball gods.

.75 per IP is not enough. Pitchers don’t compare with position players. Also 1 per APP is not juicy enough either.

These are just some examples. I want balance damnit! No position should be preferable. Just like in my FFL leagues; rosters are based on previewed talent assessments not scoring advantages.

But why batter defensive plays? I do believe they should be rewarded because its incremental accomplishments that plug on both aspects of position player stats. It’s boring to only care when they’re at the plate. However, I needed my numbers to still promote balance despite the events piling up for certain players. So, I diminished some and buffed others.

Batting & Fielding

Runs 0.75

Singles 1.25

Doubles 2.5

Triples 4.5

Home Runs 5

Runs Batted In 1

Stolen Bases 2

Caught Stealing -1.5

Walks 0.5

Strikeouts -1

Put Outs 0.08

Assists 0.12

Errors -3

Outfield Assists 4.25

Double Plays Turned 0.8

Pitching Scoring Categories

Pitching Appearances 2

Outs Recorded ( 1/3 IP) 1

Wins 8

Losses -5

Saves 8

Hits -0.35

Earned Runs -1

Home Runs -2

Walks -0.15

Strikeouts 1

Balks -2

Grounded Into Double Plays 1.5

Holds 4

Pickoffs 4

Blown Saves -6

Still stayed true to my beliefs and edged true offensive achievement over big piles of defensive stats. Now increments break ties and keep my scoreboard popping with green no matter who is on the field. I feel like this configuration sticks in my happy zone.

Welcome to Whammy Slammy Susan III!!

First week saw my landslide victory over hopeless Bangle-Doof. Poor bastard lost by 103. My scoring was an overall nerf compared to WSS2 scoring. I like that.

The standings are a three way tie for first with DerpyDerpDerp leading in points. I climbed up from third to second. This week I get FaceWaster V, which has been bad news for me. His pitchers come through when I’m in the reticle. We shall see if he stays lucky.

In other news, I’m doing alright. Dad has been ailing lately. I remain aloof thinking that I have no clue what to expect but aware trajedeybmay be very near. “A,” who I will henceforth refer to as Critter, and I are doing very well. It’s more than three weeks in and things are still clicking. Discovery is happening and we are enjoying our time together. She’s curious about me which I find totally intoxicating.

The sex is unbelievable. I’ve never been more in tune with anyone before. We are dialing in on our comforts, and finding the ways we fit well together. I do light her up, and feel so very appreciated for the way we are together. She does EVERYTHING Blog. Dang yo.

My dreams have been confusing and I know there is some lingering part of me that remains unreconciled post Cheyenne. I don’t know what to do with that. Maybe it’s safe to be a friend now that I’m in a sexual relationship, but maybe because of my past attraction to her that’s not a good idea. I don’t like the way it all happened, but there has only been uneasy silence when it comes to the beat and not the appetizers. I broke it and now I’m trying to super glue it back together. It’s probably a waste of time, but I never like hurting people and just walking away.

I think about the future. Critter and I are thinking about the road ahead. So many more steps to make before logic agrees with emotion. She’s an investment I’m glad to make though. She tolerates my nonsense like a pro. Keeper status earned.

Have a great week Blogomites!

Dread

I’m feeling the strain of excessive work, family dynamic disturbances and now some persistent nightmares. There are always positives and negatives in life, and with all these potential stressful things come some good things as well. “A” and I are bonding day by day, and especially under the recent calamities we’ve been forced to respond to. Though, I feel detached from effectiveness… like a distant satellite teetering on an unstable, elliptical orbit. I don’t know what to make of it… but I feel it largely has to do with my insecurities and false perceptions.

I get that things shit gets hard at times. It’s unavoidable that we are made to endure suffering and pain. Our prevailing responses are what dictates how we move forward or handle future calamities. Right?

I’m not feeling much like sharing (in depth) about myself today, however, I realize that not talking things out is the opposite of the model I so diligently preach to others. I can’t expect to do well with my own symptoms if I can’t discuss them in this public forum. I don’t want to analyze it… I just don’t like the way I feel. I’m again starting to scrape for ways to escape reality and all my alternatives prolong my misery (but have not turned back to weed or abusing alcohol).

Right when I thought I was getting on track I start to catch fire and head for impact. That’s what this feels like: Rejection, joy, dismay, confusion, trauma… all bundled together in less than a month. Even with companionship, I’m still feeling like I’m not seen, or that who I am is somehow uninteresting and unappealing. The fallout from “C” still hurts in my heart… even though I was mad and burned that interpersonal bridge myself. I feel cast off (despite being found shortly thereafter) in a way I was blindsided by. I’ve created quite a mess for myself haven’t I?

It’s not anyone fault but my own. I am full of feeling, with nowhere to uncork and be recognized. Everyone sees me through the window that I let them see me through. I’m broken and awaiting trauma on the near horizon. Foreboding clouds are amassing.

 

Splatty Susan

I’m about to “secure” a third straight defeat in my FMLB league. More than 100 point margin in this: a fantastic humiliation taking my league rank from first to third. Sigh.

Wholesale roster changes commencing. The injury bug has DECIMATED my team. No other roster has been hampered by injury. None. If anyone has a goat they wouldn’t mind letting me “borrow” so I can make an offering to Jobu please let me know. And for the record: I DID NOT STEAL JOBU’S RUM!!

Alas, a new week begins and another chance to get right. Hopefully.

In the rest of my world I went through some dad drama. He seems like he’s doing the best he can to make his slow decline unabashedly miserable for my mom. I’m not present enough to help ease the burden but I do need to earn a living. I’m torn in this capacity as son and man. I can’t propel independence without betraying my foundation. I resent my dad and his hedonistic way of living out his final days. He doesn’t care who he hurts as long as he gets to feel good all the way to the end. It’s grotesque and selfish.

In my secret life, “A” and I are thriving. I’ve troubled her with my symptoms lately and I feel bad about that, but I’m also a human so it seems unavoidable. She has her own life to sort through. Bullying ex. Distant family. She calls me by my first name.

I sympathize with our current plights but see a stable future out there somewhere, and not too far from here as well. I get scared but remind myself of the steps it took me to get where I am. Nothing worth having is achieved without struggle.

I’ve been having strange dreams that border on nightmares. I’ve also been having astoundingly good sex for the first time in many years. There’s a stability here in this dynamic that I’ve been missing. I’m glad to have it. Ow that shit in my family and beyond has hit the fan. So many variables. My antipsychotic is not cutting it at my current dose. I need to talk to my doctor again. Self care.

I’m going to bite my pillow for a while. Bye.

Bonk

I come out here to cope with things… but there aren’t any words that make things much better. Like everyone, I have stress. I worry about the future. I reflect on my moods. My word vomit carries on into the vastness.

I guess I’m wondering when calamity will come. What will happen to this stilted world I reside in? Collapse of some form seems likely. Do I have the strength to emerge from the rubble?

What am I doing? Why am I walking this path? I have failed at everything I ever reached for, and I keep reaching; as if I can ensnare my goals with just the tips of my extended fingers.

I don’t think I’m a good man. I think I fucked up too much to be “good.” I’m an indentured penitent and bound to honor by shame. I have a wake of angry people behind me and a future designed to mitigate the impact of regret.

I now stand in a place in which I see the potential to absolutely destroy it by being an idiot. Ultimately, I’m hurt and too confounding to be worth loving. My words don’t mean shit once the world is on fire.

I’m hoping for a neurochemical reset. A sleep should help that. See my deterioration in this post? It’s been pretty clear.

Having someone again does tend to remind me of just how easy it has been to fuck it up in the past. Will I ever let someone love me without destroying them first?

Before/After

I’ve been getting to know “A” over the last several days and I notice that this dynamic is forging into uncharted relationship territory. We are dating, so that much is established, but our bond goes very deep… but how? It hasn’t been a week, yet, I feel like I’ve known her for a long time. I had no inhibition with sharing my past and future goals with her, and she has done the same with me. How can we risk such profound vulnerability on what most people might consider “a stranger?”

Honestly, I don’t have an answer, but I do know I’m not at all scared to tell her the truth about who I am. I am also not afraid to be a free and open communicator about my feelings, preferences and desires.

But how did this closeness come to be? I am in a state of dialectic turbulence over this. The more emotional aspects of my consciousness are bonded fast to her, trusting, connected and intimate on a level I would expect of a partner I’d been dating for months or years. My logical, rational aspects are grappling with the uncertainty and newness of this relationship, and eager for stability to preserve this positive feeling I’m having. My mind reels at the thought of how new this is and how strongly I feel connected, but still demands stability, patterns and consistency to seal the deal and entrench my processes. I’m aware that time is only going to tick by as quickly as it does… I must exercise my (lacking) virtue of patience in order to gain the assurance my rationality is looking for.

Notice how I’m not spewing emotional effusions? How I’m not puffing myself up to seem more appealing than I am? I remember with C and S before her (and many others for that matter), I had to try and impress them so that they’d be interested in me, and hopefully, not leave me for someone more interesting. I wanted to keep showing and showing and showing them who I wanted them to see so they’d be attracted to me (especially since my affection was largely unrequited). None of that has happened thus far. I don’t feel any desire to be anything other than day-to-day me, which is refreshing in a way I’ve not known before. I didn’t know what it was like to just be who I am and lay myself bare for exposition, but now I do. She sees me, right through me, to the core, and THAT’S who she wants.

My dialectic continues to leave me in my contemplative wise-mind as I come to terms with the precarious balance of circumstance. It’s refreshing, but scary… trusting, yet unclear. I’m not torn to bits by this, instead, musing and reflective. This feels like what I always imagined healthy would be, and I’m excited to see where my road is going. I know I want her though, not just for now, but for always.

And Then…

After I was through venting my caustic feelings out here in cyberspace over the last few days, I took action. I said “I shouldn’t languish in sadness, I should get up and show myself that I am not resigned to this lonely state. I deserve to find someone who fits willingly and is not squished into a mold.”

Arguably, that’s not an easy feat by any stretch. I can’t control outcomes, but I can demonstrate a willingness to grow and move on. I reactivated my dating profile on my STD site and decided to let that soak. I had an email waiting for me when I resubscribed so I replied to it with interest. That’s how I met “A.”

The last two days have been unreal. Dreamlike even. The magnetism in both mental and physical realms between A and I has produced a type of genuine closeness I didn’t think was possible this early on. Our bodies agree like we’ve had months or years of practice. My safety and hers are top priorities for us both, and part of a foundation of free and honest discourse.

You know, my stark and unfiltered honesty was something that C resented (or feared) rather than appreciated, but A saw my heart and my intent through my expression and opened herself to me fully, willingly and gladly. The initial explosively is a bit scary undoubtedly, but beautiful as well. I’ve never been so blessed to be a part of something like this before, where the mutuality is so… unimaginably wonderful. Intoxicating, yes, but a little worrisome since now we don’t want to be hurt. We’ve each suffered relationship trauma but managed to still find each other with common ground to share. I can’t fully comprehend the circumstance I’m in, and I’m daunted in a lot of ways, but if this is the real thing it proposes to be, I’ll never want again.

Raise your Busch can or red solo cup to a future that I though just two days ago I was going to force someone unwilling to fit into that now someone enthusiastic wants to. What a miraculous turn of events and I couldn’t be more excited! To a future with A!

Nightmares

I had a restless night thinking about her. I see a couple of things clearly:

She’s a fool if she didn’t see this coming. I was clear, all along the way, that I wanted something more. Yet, this got treated like a big surprise.

I behaved poorly as the result of rejection. Which has destroyed any type of friendship we may have cultivated.

I’m resentful but not going to act on any of my slighted feelings. It’s better to cast away those responses just like my affection.

Obliviousness is no excuse. I felt like I was the only one who made mistakes when I wasn’t. I never got an apology for being led on. I just got denial that it had taken place or a reinterpretation of what actually happened.

I’m pretty resolved in my disdain. I know I hurt her but there’s no going back. My past was used against me in an evidentiary argument. I felt especially angered by that. It caused me to be wrathful in the end. I abolished all bonds to allow myself to dislike her.

Nothing I hate more than having my honesty used against me as though my here and then are the same. How unbelievably insulting. You really don’t know me but you sure do know how to piss me off.

My nightmares were about escaping a circumstance where there was trauma. I traumatized myself quite a bit, pining for someone not interested in me. Mashing my face against the wall. My confidence and perceptions were wrong every step of the way, but why do you think that was the case? Is it because I’m a big dumb idiot?

Am I such an ignoramus that I just made up all the encouragement to feel what I had inside me? I’m so delusional I made it all up? One thing I didn’t have was patience, because I thought there was mutuality. Why are we patient if we both want this, I thought? Because she was happy enjoying my feelings but not interested in reciprocating. I feel duped, then cast away when things got hard. Argued with instead of sympathized. I extended her that courtesy but still advocated for my own feelings and beliefs.

Here I am ranting again. Maybe after the weekend I’ll be calmer. Good riddance though. I’m glad I didn’t invest more than I did. You’re a liar and not self honest. You’d rather I be blamed so your way out is easier. My heart is broken but that doesn’t matter to you. You just wanted to tell me why I was wrong. Now you can see why I’m not interested in being your friend.

My life is pointed up and I’m moving on. I do feel more like things are settling back to a familiar normalcy. Now that I don’t have you to think about (in the sane way), I can direct my efforts to helping people who will reciprocate my kindness. Maybe there is a girl out there for me who won’t flight my affection and taunt me with my honest revelations. Someone who will see me for who I am and not who I was.

She never saw me. Not who I was becoming. Not the life I was leading. Not my pride and conviction. I don’t know what she saw but it is pointless to wonder. I’m done.

Idiot

Yes, that is the truth of it. I end up ruining more of what I touch than improving it. This situation of ours is no different. I have dashed the glass against the stones, and all that remains are glittering fragments of a once whole thing.

Truth is that I’ve wounded myself because of my inability to regulate my feelings. This is a talent I’m afraid I’ve never learned. I often effuse, and that is received and draws those to me who are enveloped by it. Such a feeling to be cared for so powerfully, honestly and sometimes overwhelmingly. It comes from a deep and unchecked place of loving that I know not how to cap. I have found this to be advantageous in most every circumstance but this one.

Now that has caused me pain and catalyzed my forsaking of the rarest of the rare. I took the bridge away and left her to drown. I left her no way to cross again.

I still have anger, because I acted on something that seemingly wasn’t true… and conducted myself in a way I may not have if not for that invitation or inclination to do so. Did she want me too in the first place? It looks more and more like I just got it wrong and my volatility has created this new and painful rift that I fear will not be mended. My enterprise of selfishness has deprived my life and profession of a highly-valuable individual. I’m ashamed of that. Deeply regretful of my actions, and now suffering the consequences.

What can I do? I can try to lay the first stone back in the right direction but even that seems like it is fundamentally unwanted. I know nothing. I have no insight… only a cloud that conceals her internal discourse. I inflict pain without knowing why, or without the education to respond effectively.

Here I am after that last post saying I wasn’t going to pine… but blog how can I not? I’ve said it time and time again, I’ve never seen anyone like her. It drives me crazy how much I want her and the infuriation of not being able to have her is tearing me apart from the inside. I feel pain, deep and mournful within my chest… knowing she’s very likely gone. What have I done? She was one of a kind and now she’s gone.

I lost her… even the echo of her. All the beauty I came to appreciate I ripped out because I couldn’t have it all. How unimaginably selfish of me. Who the fuck do I think I am?

I did this to myself and she is the victim of my inability to be an effective human. My ineptitude at regulating my catastrophic tsunami of feelings. I am a fool, and yes, definitely and idiot.

Now I have nothing but the memory of how good I felt with her. A reminder of the infantile responses to things I have which cost me a chance at a better life.

End

It came to an end today. I laid myself bare to her and was rejected. It’s hard to stay a good friend after being turned down like that. I’m back to just having that professional, impersonal relationship that an employer has with an employee. No doubt I’d like to retain her talent, even if she doesn’t think much of who I am.

Really this is no surprise. I wouldn’t have walked down this way if she hadn’t told me there was attraction to me. I was thinking this would be a good thing to explore, but when I did, she ran. Now I have feelings that aren’t shared. Unacknowledged and unwanted. I feel a tad crushed by that. Misled to some extent, though later she was clear about not wanting to lead me on.

I feel a little better knowing that now its really over. I don’t want to be friends. I don’t want to be reminded of what I thought I could have that now I absolutely can’t. Never one word was said to me after that first afternoon we shared together where she told me she was attracted. Not one word to give me hope that we could explore each other. I have been turned away by her silence.

Goodbye C. This is probably the last post where I’ll pine for you and bemoan my unrequited affection. Everyone is entitled to their own choices and you made yours.

I just have to move forward.

Mirror

I am this person who strives to improve. I hope that I can better myself and keep things stable in my life. Despite the environmental variables, I think I have accomplished that.

Yet I grapple with loneliness. Like any other man, I have the desires. I have instinct that seek to bind with trusted partners. Having never met a man who can make me feel the way I hope, I often find myself looking to women.

This is an imbedded behavior that I am trying to overcome. I must realize that there is nothing. There is no one. There is just me. I have to stop thinking I’m going to be somewhere other than on the path I built for myself with my mistakes and choices. It’s kinda depressing, but it also has enabled me to stronger than I’ve ever been in my life.

I see it. The way forward is full of brightness and events. New people will be crossing my path every day. Places and circumstances I never thought possible will be realized. So much has changed in the last year and there’s still quite a bit of work left to do.

I’m proud. My future is as bright as it’s ever been, yet it attracts no one. A level of closeness I’ve never had seems to be a level I’ll still not comprehend. With all the good, and all the steps, I’m sure I must reconcile to walk them alone with no one to share in my adventure.

Circumstance and undesirability kept C away despite the clarity of my feelings. Maybe that is what ultimately causes her to realize she didn’t want it. I’m too much. Too big. Too overflowing. But mostly because no one notices me. No one tries to see me. No one will, I think. Like a well shaken champagne bottle of neglected emotions.

I feel sad that this door is closed.

Yet, I have a life full of good people and adventure. There’s a great sum of work to be done and I’m hoping to get out there and do it. With no one to share it with. With no one who understands me. Just me.

I said have a good night, but what I meant was goodbye.

Frugsnated

I have all these feelings Blog. I get excited, involved, intrigued… and more often than not I do so but for the wrong reasons. FOR ONCE, this is the right reason, time, person to be enthused about. C is miraculous, and still growing into the person she is headed towards being. I want to jump on the bandwagon, shower her with affection and help guide her safely to be the anything she desires to be. Yet, I’m still a fucking idiot trying to make a tough/impossible circumstance something other than it is. I’m still hoping against hope she and I will find each other despite the paradigm of pain we reside within. I mean… I know I’m a good fit for her as she is for me, and we’d do right by each other in the long run… but… how?

I want to invest in her but I can’t have her… I have to bottle what I feel for fear of forcing her into an uncomfortable choice. I have to say I’m not wanting her when I am… Its a dynamic I need to ether be relieved of or acknowledged for and neither is happening. I can accept both realities, but without certainty, I’m twisting in the wind and screaming in the miasma of the unknown.

The chance to explore this world is held from me. The opportunity to go further is restricted. The future remains totally unclear, even in terms of the trajectory I had hoped to at least foresee. Now, I have nothing but the aching silence of wordless agony where I begin to compartmentalize my feelings for the sake of not having to be reminded of what will not be.

This is all on me though. It’s her life and her choice what she does with it. I might as well be an asteroid in distant, fragile orbit. I see such hope… a pairing unlike any I had even imagined. A future where I could be with someone who nourishes me, and I her. A path we walk together that makes us stronger, not casts us in our own distinct and isolatory directions. I’ve had my heart broken so many times, but I feel like she would not. She is different… aware and centered in a world of looking out for her mental health as the top priority. What an influence I could be on her as she already is for me. Such promise, yet, unachievable… remote and in a future that is not happening and is not being realized.

Do I want her to chose me? Fuck yes I do! Will she? I don’t know and I have more doubts than assurances.

We only live one time. We only have this chance. I’ve wasted so much of mine… and I continue to scratch for meaning in the void of unrequited recognition. I’ll let her pass right through me fingers if that’s what she wants… and I’ll keep my eyes open into the future where my window of opportunity closes a little more every single day.

Venty Time

This helps. The expression of thought, of feeling, in a safe place that is free of the scrutiny of reality. That people give two shits about this thoughtstream amazes me. Ultimately though,. this space is unknown to my social world.

I need a place to feel without having an impact on anyone directly.

Today I learned an important lesson in my ability to regulate my expression, but it doesn’t mean my feelings have gone anywhere. I just need a new place to express them. A secret place.

So here we are.

I have such an attraction to her body blog… she has that perfect chemical balance where all the smells and the touches are good. I get electric when she’s next to me… it hard to explain. I really don’t want to let C know that though… it doesn’t really help me at all in a practical sense.

She lights me up when we hold each other. Enough to think that I am doing more harm by touching her than good. I don’t want her to feel like I have that lust for her even though I do. It’s not something I will ever know and I’m inevitable going to smash my head against the wall the more I long for that.

I can appreciate her from afar… I know that is no small feat but it is what I need to do right now. We are in the beginning part of our comprehension. These feelings I have are undeniable… but don’t have a place in our discourse. That’s why I have this place. Here I can vent that stuff and keep my interactions with her healthy.

I’m doing the best I can to cope. There’s no denying,. there is only a moment of recognition, then, the archives of irrelevancy.

Unbiffed

I’m doing a lot better mentally since I cratered-out the other day. I recognized my biff, corrected, and began the process of moving forward with a new mindset. I really do harm to myself trying to hastily grab for reassurances, companionship and an end to the affectionless wasteland I’ve isolated myself in. It is a terrain of my own making and I must correct that myself before hoping some outside factor will magically poof me to a new venue.

I don’t want to endanger any of the good things I have going either. I forgot how wonderful it is to be surrounded by people who share a common thread of interest, or many. It can be intoxicating, but that’s (again) on me to regulate. I misconstrue friendship often, adding undesired bonus contexts that often ruin the original thing in my greed.

Thoughts on this help me see my mistakes and correct them with changes in behavior. I can still have all the good things I have been enjoying without the turmoil of the land beyond the radiation zone. I can’t imagine ever getting to the point to needing to explain myself fully, and my precarious circumstance. The ideal I have set out for that threshold is unlikely to be met at all. It could be, but I’m not betting on that no matter how much I long for it. My isolation is for a purpose, and entirely my own fault.

Beautiful as she may be, I’ll only ever be in orbit of her world from a distance where gravity’s distant grip only keeps me from being flung off into space.

 

 

Few Words Of Meaning

It’s the truth that very little of my negative expressions have the weight of intent behind them, but are nevertheless tapping into a deep well of raw feeling. I’m guessing that’s a lot to do with my mental illness, but also to the ease at which I slide to the pole in my own cognitive processes. I think of all the failed moments, the disconnects of understanding… I don’t really wonder anymore why I’m alone, I just know it’s better if it ends up that way. I know I’m nearly intolerable, but in a way, that makes the sliver of those who can grapple with sustainable coexistence all the more special. I know I was as close as I was ever with anything when I loved J. She hates me forever times 8 now, but I’ll never ever forget how she made me feel. It’s all lost… burned up long ago in a pyre of crisping, dead flesh. The past is done, forever unchanging, drawing our attention only as long as we can stand to divert it.

Life forward has been hard, as it is for everyone. We all struggle, but we try not to drown. We don’t want to fail, but sometimes we do anyway. I do the best I can to learn something of benefit, and try to avoid hurting more people even though I end up doing just that sometimes. Does it slap at my sense of self-righteousness? Fuck yes it does. I live with pride, and shame, but neither defines who I am. People today have lost sight of the grey – the unclear fuzzy place between the starkness of polarization. The good, and the bad, living in a neutralized purgatory where both are separate from influencing the other but still hugely relevant. I can see why our view of things in the present moment has become polarized with such prominent examples available of the ease of extremity.

I’m a fool, but also fucking awesome. I do so many good things, and yet, I hurt others. Can we comprehend this contrast without totally imploding or blasting ourselves to thousands of pieces? Doubtful, but hopeful.

The Death Of Night Guy & Other Changes (Mood Album)

Admittedly, Night Guy was a response to a changing circumstance and search for companionship outside of the traditional paradigm. While he was a fun and exciting fellow, he was not sustainable. I have sen now that some contortion is good, but too much compromises integrity.

This album centers its themes on the insanity, bizarre and inexplicably unique way I manifest my persona in this otherwise tranquil world. The motifs include hasty sex, strange comparisons, odd quirks, depression, fanaticism and balance (eventually).

I feel like this very-closely parallels my current mood and temperament. Have at with the exposition!

Mood Album: Spunk-Rocket Poof Station
Length: 75 minutes

  1. Gemini Dream – The Moody Blues
  2. Paparazzi – Lady Gaga
  3. Wild Sex (In The Working Class)
  4. Something About You – Boston
  5. Beds Are Burning – Midnight Oil
  6. Whiskey In The Jar – Metallica
  7. Spiderwebs – No Doubt
  8. Listen Like Thieves – INXS
  9. Cold As Ice – Foreigner
  10. Living Dead Girl – Rob Zombie
  11. Asleep The Snow Came Flying – Tim Story
  12. Broken Wings – Mr. Mister
  13. Turn To Stone – Electric Light Orchestra
  14. Harden My Heart – Quatrerflash
  15. Praying For Time – George Michael
  16. In Between Days – The Cure
  17. South City Midnight Lady – The Doobie Brothers
  18. Back On The Chain Gang – The Pretenders

 

Outer Seeker

Just completed class 6 of 8 for NAMI Peer-To-Peer. Leading flips my sullen to smiley. Today I was feeling depressed for most of the time I was at work. Then I got busy, but occasionally my sadness would flutter back in. It never leaves the room, but it might land somewhere else for a while. I put on my teacher mask and somehow that rejuvenated me.

Sometimes I feel like I’m being flattened in a vise. Yet, there is still such joy in life. There are beautiful things happening all around. New people I meet. Fresh faces that have their own stories. I see a future where compassion is the currency. I’m an idiot though. I fumble through doing my best as you have no doubt seen.

I wonder about where my path is going. Abstractly it seems positive, but calamity wears many disguises. I’m lonely enough to fall to my doom over a woman, or become ensnared in the deliberations and reconsiderations of work.

The truth is simple: no one else needs to care if I do. I pine for affection, even here in this vast echo chamber. I give nothing of substance yet expect expect expect. I think the world appreciates me, when I could just as easily be a used gum smudge on the sidewalk. Craving your approval, I bend myself to fit a shape you’d desire. This has always been folly. It continues to be.

Have a good night Blog.

Disregard Them

It’s clear I’ve been grappling with my self-created frustrating circumstances over the last few days. I’ve also tried to reconcile what I think I’m looking for out there in the world. I came up well short asking too much of A and not able to see the limitations of S through the veil of sex. That’s my fault, and the hurt on both sides is real.

As I do with most life-obstacles, I grow and change in order to survive new circumstances. I have shackled myself to burdensome people in the past and continued to do so until, well, now. I’m grasping for meaning in a place where there isn’t any to be had. It’s a shame I wasted my time in this way, but I’ve also learned a bit about my “wants” when it comes to friendships and beyond.

I need to thicken up my skin, since my lifetime of rejection and dismissal seems headed in the same disappointing direction it always has. I’ve shed my concern for those who don’t fit into my life. Disregard is all I have left. I feel no shame. This is my life last time I checked, and I’m not wasting any more of it investing resources where there is no value in doing so. Nothing I hate more than being unappreciated for the person I am while pouring unrequited, liquid praise on those in my circle.

So enough is enough. No more scratching around the junk pile for the scraps of a structure long demolished. No more reckless attachment to inadequate figures regardless of physical urges. The future must have someone of genuine, undeniable value to be worth pursuing. I’ve said also that I’m only interested in going it alone in my reality, and that’s still true, pretty much. I’m not making any extraordinary effort to find someone, because I really don’t need anyone. I’m consistently doing better mentally when no one else is involved.

Confidence has always been here, it just got smothered by disappointment. Trying and failing can be tough, but even now, my introspective processes are on-point and rational. I can’t say the same for A or S. I’m angry still at them. I feel like I had so much to give, yet, I get tossed aside like a soggy jizz rag. No more I say!

Tried

I messages S and told her I was sorry if I hurt her. I don’t think there was any sort of friendship there. She never once told me that she appreciated our friendship, but did thank me for my kind words. I felt fundamentally unrecognized in that arrangement. I needed to try to express that I did care but didn’t feel like that was mutual. Is it wrong of me to try and explain myself? I acted rashly and that should not go without explanation. We did have a few good moments. However, those ups were overshadowed by my being ignore or responded to with one or three words a day. I mean, why am I investing in that? Why pine for someone who basically doesn’t care what I’m doing? I hate pining. I’m not a beggar, I’m a beacon.

Well I’m probably exiled anyway so at least I tried to reach out and set the record straight. I’m not callous, I just don’t tolerate poor treatment for brief physicality. I don’t pour out my soul to be ignored. Would you?

This is goodnight.

Tried

I messages S and told her I was sorry if I hurt her. I don’t think there was any sort of friendship there. She never once told me that she appreciated our friendship, but did thank me for my kind words. I felt fundamentally unrecognized in that arrangement. I needed to try to express that I did care but didn’t feel like that was mutual. Is it wrong of me to try and explain myself? I acted rashly and that should not go without explanation. We did have a few good moments. However, those ups were overshadowed by my being ignore or responded to with one or three words a day. I mean, why am I investing in that? Why pine for someone who basically doesn’t care what I’m doing? I hate pining. I’m not a beggar, I’m a beacon.

Well I’m probably exiled anyway so at least I tried to reach out and set the record straight. I’m not callous, I just don’t tolerate poor treatment for brief physicality. I don’t pour out my soul to be ignored. Would you?

She blocked me so whatever. I’ll settle with whatever awful feelings she has for me. I’ll go forward totally unacknowledged and unresolved. I’m worth more than this bullshit. Why do I even bother with this random matchmaking nonsense. Such crap. Useless expenditure of energy. I tried to explain but why even bother. Fuck her.

Emulated

I often gain inspiration from my partners. I copy their positive behaviors out of admiration. It is the potential to make me a stronger person that I relish. I have the drive, but love provides the focus. I have been scraping for this and failed to find it. I know I need to be conscious of that desire to emulate before I partner with anyone else.

Lessons

Well I did learn that distant relationships with fleeting intimacy don’t work for me. It’s just not fair to S in the end though. I did just abruptly leave after waffling in uncertainty about the irritating nature of our arrangement. It’s my fault for not at least explaining anything. It’s just not possible for me to healthily have that kind of relationship with someone. I snapped off. Blacklisted. Gone. Back to the cell with my broken toys. I am catalyzing. The reagents for my departure were well in place and only suffered my ignition. This is my fault though. She definitely could handle it while I could not at all. She’s right to be angry, but it will fade when her world moves on and I become irrelevant. Or, more irrelevant than I was before. I was already little more than an afterthought, which is not much to lose at all.

Lametown

Well my escapade with S has cratered into the fertile soil of regret. Not that it was unexpected, but I was hoping for some semblance of closeness and got nothing of the sort (either physical or mental) Isolation pervades, and I grow increasingly alone on my island. This is typical, since most encounters I have attempted in the past end in revulsion, rejection and outright dismissal. This time though, I was just acting on the flammable material that was prepped and ready to be set ablaze. S has no real interest in me (or anything going on in my life) and I in her (arguable, I was denied access to her life in full), so it was natural that once the sex was gone there was zero left to hold us together. She was upset at me for walking away again (because I tried once already), but I need to say goodbye.

Realistically, I’m giving up on trying to build this bridge and evict myself from my unwanted isolation. There isn’t anyone who fits the criteria that I keep hoping someone will meet. This is a hopeless procedure and, frankly, I was doing much better without trying to make something happen. I am tired of smashing inadequate results into a lasting mold that fits my bizarre reality. There is no future where settling for whatever wanders past is the right choice, and it never has been. Not saying that happened, but all the applications for building something of value have been turned down upon review.

I don’t harbor anything more than a feeling of sadness, since I am shining brighter than I ever have. Yet, most women I meet can’t wait to escape my radius. I think it’s back to reason and the incremental successes of life. A and I are as far apart as we ever were in our past relationship… with no real gratification, feedback or anything to judge the ongoing value of continuation. What is this simple chat we have? Is it anything other than an activity to occupy a few moments of my time? Is there meaning to be had in these defused and innocuous statements? I tire. I think this might also be a product of my frustration and not indicative of the pattern. I feel no less alone like I hoped I would, or like I did at first. I quickly discovered just because you have people to talk to, doesn’t actually mean anyone really sees/hears you. Or cares.

Profile removed. Chapter adjourned. Now just to clear out the jetsam that has accumulated and start over again by myself. Disappointing? Oh hell yes. Crippling? No, not at all. I have done what my instincts were asking me to do. I tried, I had, I lost. It seems like the road to partnership has been overrun with brambles and foul smelling carcasses galore. I have little reason to go back there until long after the stench of decay has cleared out.

NPR – Capital Public Radio PSS Article

Here I am with my first interview for a media outlet!

http://www.capradio.org/articles/2019/03/28/peer-mental-health-workers-could-become-state-certified-under-proposed-california-law/

Shelf Of Issues

I don’t know what functional looks like right now. I’m taking the walls of the pit to find a way out. There is no out. Prepare for an onslaught of allegories:

Instead of feeling stable, I feel like there are issues that just get stashed on a shelf somewhere out of sight to promote the impression of not being overloaded. There’s no argument that the stashy is not s solution by any stretch. It’s not even a temporary anything.

Who am I right now? There’s a bunch of different personas colliding in here. Vicarious and pragmatic alike, with a sprinkling of ardent skeptics and jubilant idiots. I don’t know what to make of the lot and their shouting. Who emerges… the ambiguity of leadership falls in line with the rest of my reality.

I don’t know. I think that’s the real deal right now. I don’t fucking know what I’m doing or who I’m failing at trying to be. Am I this adaptable fellow? He’s all bendy and detached from concern. Do I have my “scrutinize the fuzzy shit out if this” pants on? I don’t much like those pants now that I have them on. Have you ever felt utterly lost in trying to understand who you are?

I do admire that adaptability I seem to be warmed beside the glow of. Hopefully it also doesn’t destroy me.

Night Guy Does A Mood Album

Hey Blog, Night Guy here.

This other guy is a kook pretty much now that I’m going over all these notes and things left behind. Anyway, this music medium is how the previous administration tried to convey or interpret a state of being or emotional narrative for processing and comprehension. I’m not as much in to all the fluffy shit that goes along with this activity, but I guess I can scrutinize what has already been made available for me to cast judgement upon. See this album as a prognosis for the former occupant, and an indicator of the turbulent future he carved out for himself. This album is, basically, how it is; sad, stark and laid out there for all to see. Please don’t send me mail about the deeds of the prior administration, it will all get forwarded to the daytime guy.. or whoever he was. He may have fled the country.

**UPDATED**

So after listing to it a couple of times, it just wasn’t Night Guyish enough. I spruced this bad boy up with some silly putty and electric shocks. Enjoy!

Mood Album: Emo-Slave Resurrection v. 2 (Night Guy Edition)

Length: 77 Minutes

  1. For Your Love – Fleetwood Mac
  2. More Than A Woman – Bee Gees
  3. Chains Of Love – Erasure
  4. Ventura Highway – America
  5. Rikki Don’t Lose That Number – Steely Dan
  6. The Other Side Of Life – The Moody Blues
  7. Don’t You Know What The Night Can Do? – Steve Winwood
  8. Feels So Good – Chuck Mangione
  9. The Night Owls – Little River Band
  10. You Don’t Have To Cry – Crosby, Stills & Nash
  11. Owner Of A Lonely Heart – Yes
  12. The Heart Of The Matter – Don Henley
  13. Cowboys & Angels – George Michael
  14. Nothingman – Pearl Jam
  15. Because The Night – 10,000 Maniacs
  16. Conviction Of The Heart – Kenny Loggins

Mood Album v. 3

In light of recent turbulence in my world, I’ve tried keeping a better feel on the introspective pulse of regular function. I’m also aware that I’m subjecting myself to an unusually high level of stress and stimuli in an effort to combat creeping depression. I see all the elements like a confluence of rivers forming a mighty torrent… somehow sweeping my brain away downstream or buried in silt. Nevertheless, I still pry open the inner vault of the self and try to understand things happening to and from it. I feel I’m better at some things I used to be terrible at, but still lacking in quite a few areas. What are my true motivations for my actions? Why do I open myself to every nice person that walks by? Why am I such an insatiable prick? What does being understood feel like?

I sit here in my snowman jammies and wonder if expression really helps, or if it just provides a forum for things to garner attention for a time? I think the more ways I can ventilate this shit-smelling barn the better. Activities like the Mood Albums I do are helpful because they give me the chance to craft a narrative in a medium not often used. I don’t think myself anything other than expressive, curious and expositional about my own feelings and path forward. So as of the last album when I was feeling a fair bit gooier than I am now, I needed to revisit my good friend pain, loneliness and rekindle an ongoing desire to see things change.

Tracks from the previous Mood Album: Spatulas & Bandaids are highlighted in yellow. I have pulled from other wishy-washy type albums as well that have been generated in the past. I didn’t go “all in” on the squish, mind you, but it’s there. As you can see, there has been some pretty severe turnover in the track-list. I have listed the previous two iterations below so the whole three-album progression can be seen clear.

Mood Album (v. 3): Splattercake Conjunctivitis

Length: 74 minutes

  1. Mad World – Tears for Fears
  2. If This Is It – Huey Lewis & The News
  3. Walking On Broken Glass – Annie Lennox
  4. Don’t Do Me Like That – Tom Petty & The Heartbrakers
  5. Pamela – Toto
  6. Walk Away – Joe Walsh
  7. I Wouldn’t Want To Be Like You – The Alan Parsons Project
  8. The Voice – The Moody Blues
  9. Move On – George Michael
  10. Back In Black – AC/DC
  11. Falling Away From Me – Korn
  12. (SIC) – Slipknot
  13. Waves – Blondfire
  14. Straight To My Heart – Sting
  15. All Over You – Live
  16. Let’s Go
  17. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  18. More Than Words – Extreme

Mood Album (v. 2): Spatulas & Bandaids

Length: 73 minutes

  1. Mad World – Tears For Fears
  2. Once – Pearl Jam
  3. Animal – Def Leppard
  4. All Over You – Live
  5. In Thee – Blue Öyster Cult
  6. No One Like You – Scorpions
  7. Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra
  8. The Voice – The Moody Blues
  9. One Thing Leads To Another – The Fixx
  10. Heartbeat CIty – The Cars
  11. Fragile – Sting
  12. Help Is On Its Way – Little River Band
  13. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  14. The Promise – When In Rome
  15. Best Of My Love – Eagles
  16. Baby, Come To Me – Patti Austin & James Ingram
  17. King Of Pain – The Police
  18. Move On – George Michael

Mood Album (v. 1): Deflatacated Marshmallow

Length: 77 Minutes

  1. Fastlove – Gerorge Michael
  2. Beds Are Burning – Midnight Oil
  3. Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra
  4. Once – Pearl Jam
  5. Animal – Def Leppard
  6. All Over You – Live
  7. Heartbeat City – The Cars
  8. Broken Wings – Mr. Mister
  9. Fragile – Sting
  10. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  11. The Promise – When In Rome
  12. Because The Night – 10,000 Maniacs
  13. Somebody To Love – Queen
  14. Feels So Good – Chuck Mangione
  15. Baby, Come To Me – Patti Austin & James Ingram
  16. What You Won’t Do For Love – Bobby Caldwell
  17. Harden My Heart – Quarterflash
  18. King Of Pain – The Police

Nope

Having sealed the door, again, I have no choice but to plod forward in depressed discontinuity and lasting solitude. I have much I need to work on internally. I am a flawed, overly effusive person like a boiling teapot of unacknowledged desire. I’m abrupt and direct, which is generally abrasive. All true things.

Yet, this extraordinary volatility only seems to pertain to finding a female partner. I have consistently blundered and misjudged in this regard, and no more. I’m honestly thinking that maybe a man is a better fit for partnership, if ever there was to be any. I’ve never conceived of that before, though not out of the realm of possibility. In the meantime though, I’m just not going to bother with it anymore. I’ve clearly shown myself that I am nowhere near ready for that type of interaction. My continued abstinence goes on, and hopefully, continues for a very long time to ensure my stability. I am never more clear-headed, hard-working and focused than when not also regulating my emotions due to attraction. I’ve never been able to achieve balance in the past, and that is still the case.

So, on I go as I have. I tried, I failed, and now I have learned enough to move on. It’s back to living my life and investing in my future; one that I build for myself.

Ballad of Knowing

Hands that touch,

But don’t yet clasp,

I hope for much,

But will it last?

Patience proves,

A worthy foe,

With little moves,

I strive to know.

In such a rush,

To find the end,

With growing trust,

New words must mend.

Struggle to say,

Fear to break,

The game we play,

Has much at stake.

Forward now,

I’ll find my way,

Proclaim aloud,

“With you I’ll stay.”

Groups

Why is it that these groups help? There’s no treatment being rendered, no prescriptions or policies to follow. How can sharing be so effective? I think it has a lot to do with repressed versus expressed feelings and the cathartic act involved in unleashing things that few others get to see.

I don’t feel particularly rejuvenated, but I do feel like I was heard, which is a profound thing. I expressed my hurt over my dad, my poor coping skills stemming from that. I got a lot of genuine reaction from people who understand the why and the what of dealing with mental health symptoms. It is a blessing to have this support and be able to be exposed by it. I just wish I could have a similar feeling from a caring partner.

I saw people fighting the symptoms and thoughts of mental illness in their lives and surviving. People facing their demons and vocalizing. I’m still kinda running from mine, but I won’t forever, yet there was so much in the group dynamic I benefitted from. I will be resolute in healthily coping, but reaching that state is the struggle I face. For now though, my ecliptic is only a place I hang laundry from and the so-called cushions of my chair are pancaked into squishless plates of unfortunate size that tweak my posture and provide no relief. There are surely better habits out there waiting to be implemented.

All the lonely was scraped off like so much obscuring ice on the car windshield of my destiny. I still have only a small sniff of things that may come, but for the time being, there is an ache which continues unabated, unrequited and unmistakable. Is there someone out there? There are people that I help and those that help me. I tend to think a balance of both is the surest path towards positivity.

Yearning In Stupidity

I search their names online. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find. Do I expect they don’t hate me? That they somehow have changed? Do all these years help us see something new?

No. It is only pain. There is nothing there but the dead space where something once thrived. If I yearn, I do so foolishly. I hope that the feeling of that love would come back and be strong again. Nothing like that is real. Ever.

I scour for some sight of her. Of them. They just go on living their lives and I might as well be nothing at all. I left no mark. I inspire no second thought. I am a wasted human devoid of value in the scales of companionship.

Of all those I have loved, none wanted to keep me. They tolerated me for a time. Then, no more. I hurt them. Drove them away with my illness. Contaminated myself beyond desire. No bridges can span the gorge.

If J was still out there I’d love her with that fire in me that will NEVER go out. If K had a way to see me, I’d try to fall for her, and if E wasn’t lost in a fool’s dream I’d rekindle the passion we once had.

WHO THE FUCK AM I KIDDING??????

My dreams are utter bullshit. Just another stupid fucking idea my infected, dysfunctional brain came up with to alleviate the unquenchable loneliness. There is no phoenix; nothing will ever rise from the ashes I created. It is gone. Forever. I can’t bear it. It hurts so badly. I’m crushed under it. Decimated. Defenseless. Lost.

Wishlist

I wish I still had you in my world,

I wish you were someone just a little different than who you actually are,

I wish your companionship was real; I wish my feelings for you would last,

I wish your comfort was physical,

I wish your intentions had been more indicative of your actions,

I wish I wasn’t feeling so very lonely,

I wish I wasn’t such an impossible fucktard,

I wish I didn’t have a lifelong STD,

I wish I didn’t have Bipolar Disorder,

I wish someone would really see me,

I wish for things that will never be real,

I still wish I still had you,

I wish someone cared,

I wish I could love someone with all my heart,

I wish for a time when love helps me feel safe,

I often wish for things that dash hope and reinforce the unforgiving nature of reality.

Unchanged

Not a lot is different than just a bit ago. I ran a Support Group tonight. It was hard to stay on top of my shit. I did though, and it was really good for me to not have been off pooping my brain-pants somewhere alone. I’m still very wounded, having to let go of K again and returning the things I bought for her birthday. It just reminds me how unrelentingly horrible and abrasive I am to everyone not obligated to put up with me. Regardless of incentives, my repulsion is overwhelming.

I keep looking, but I’m despondent. There is no one. There was only “close,” and now, nothing at all. Scaring away potential partners is something I’m just so fucking good at. I’m, like, nationally ranked at that shit.

Well, fuck. I’m tired, sad, dejected and in a big hole right before bed. I imagine I will again dream of things that torture me as they have of late. I have no one to hold me after a nightmare. I have exactly what I deserve. Rejection. Disgust. Solitude.

Shmatters

Feeling broken into many pieces right now. I don’t feel like I have any wind in my sails… no drive to move me forward. I am alone, trapped in a barren waste devoid of shelter from the cold. Each new step forward rings with an ache; a slow decay of the bone, the flesh itself begins to wither rot and disappear. The full space of my heart is opened like a tomb, fresh with the foul stink of confined death. It feels like the sun isn’t shining, or, that I have forgotten how it feels to be warm. I gape at the disparity of days, and wonder if more pain lies in wait for me in the days ahead. I know that it does, and I already am prepared to continue to suffer. My own sorcery confines me, where once it was used to set me free.

Shattered Mirrors

My light is out with hands take the shard

Spinning in a desolate hole of alone

Bent upon the regret of actions

Despair of wanting like a bitter stain

Profusely ignored in a place where things are forgotten

No light finds me here

All who come eventually go away

Do I still convince myself it’s not true

To believe the facts is to accept isolation from acceptance

Tonight I miss everything I had

Alone and without

In the center of no one’s concern anymore

Empty

There is a place that is again, found missing. It grew and then it died. How badly it aches within me, pulsing with regret and sadness. How it is to be left behind, not advanced into a brighter future. By my own admission, I am deserving of this state. I feel the sorrow, blog. I hurt now, and I will for some time. How I yearn, and how I will scream into the silence. I wish she was still mine, even though she is not. Goodbye to those days when I felt the breath of affection burning my lantern brighter still. Into the darkness I fall, at least for now, to lament what is gone and be present with my sorrow. I never wish to dream again.

Slipping Away / Walking Uphill

I had companionship for a time, but now I am back on my own again. I have been through this before, the tumult of understanding and the gauntlet of truth are punishing arenas in my reality. It is the simple fact of the person I am that has created this division and now removal. I had long ago accepted I would be alone for the rest of my life, and I did appease my sense of unrelenting loneliness by attempting companionship, at least temporarily. Now that my life has gone back to the place it had been at a few months ago, I don’t know how to feel precisely. Am I upset? Not really, but sad, yes. Do I regret? Naturally there are things I can find to blame myself for. Everyone, especially a blundering emotion-tornado such as myself makes mistakes. There are things I know I am and things I try to be, and right now there is a confluence of reasons for why things are now over between she and I. The fact of the matter is simple, and remains.

No one asks for more work in their life or readily accepts trouble into their world. I know I am a great deal of “work,” and trouble in one bundle… there’s just no avoiding that. I do the best I can but here is another example of how that failed. It hurts, very much to lose her, especially after I had developed a fondness, and after we had such wonderful dreams together. Stigma is a wall that can’t often be overtopped, or burrowed under… or even explained away with words. It is damaging, and breaks reason apart with animosity.

Well here we are blog, back to square 1. I am all done trying to find partnership for now. There is no world I see where I find someone who will take on the impossible task of accepting me as I am, and not wishing I could be somebody I never will be. My lesson in all this has been to observe my actions, and decide where to take a next step forward. If anything, I have learned that I am all alone out here (still), and that’s the truth I must stop trying to alleviate. I am my own confidant and guardian, and no one should wrest that from me in the years to come.

Goodbye K. Beautiful, complex, generous woman, you touched my life and lit it up, for a time. You gave me hope, and then dashed it. I know why you did, and I will mourn for us both.

Beholding

It’s not the wanting–

Like fragments tumble in sparks,

Furiously scatter-lit,

Fill the blackened chamber.

Restrain old whispers–

Haunted hallway-dusted,

Once-clawed firmament.

Between the shutter-slats,

Begging at freedom,

Boldness awaits.

+

I don’t need to process negative symptoms and thoughts when I don’t have any. I just need to keep living my life the way I have been, and allow it to bloom. I’m going to be gone for a while, I’m walking down a new path. Horizon’s shifting glow calls to a future that brings the dawn to the end of night.

The Barrier Dream

A hammering smack the window glass,

The bitter, howling, grey morass,

Transparently the pounding rain–

Flailing madly in disdain.

The view from through the sealed gate,

A contrast by which to acclimate,

Ensnared in comfort’s clinging grip–

With a steaming cup of tea to sip.

Staring out at fury and storm,

Curiously watching while safe and warm,

The moment when I want her here,

A pathway forward not yet clear,

To hold in dreams until a promised time,

When her touch and grace will yet be mine.

Cared For

I wanted to highlight something that happened a couple of days ago. I believe in significant acts, and this was one of them.

I injured my back lifting my dad the other day and it is an area that has consistently given me trouble in the past. These sorts of injuries can vary significantly in severity, and this appeared to be a bad one. It was just about his time that K entered my sphere, and her response to my shabby state was to procure a massage session so I could seek proactive treatment. She, thinking of me, did something direct, relevant and useful to assist me in a way I was not able to do for myself. It was a gift, and a memorable one. I can’t recall the last time someone did this for me in such a poignant way, as a partner. Done in honesty and through concern, there is no more wonderful thing to do for someone than to comfort. She took care of me, and the feeling of it is euphoric.
In the past, I have been in both roles, but still, I can’t recall a feeling like this. I don’t recall ever feeling really cared about in this sort of tangible, fundamentally generous way. Something enduring fuels that bond that is forming, which represents a transaction of trust and understanding. She spoke to me the best way she knew how, and it was impactful. It showed real care, from a very early point in our journey, which in and of itself is a fantastic indicator of trajectory.

It also makes me think about my own past and potential generosity. I will soon have a significant income compared to sitting on a leaky balloon as I have been for many months. I’d like to be able to give back to her as well, in kind, but I will need to find unique and relevant avenues to explore to sate my standards of fairness in the immediate future. I am a contributor first and foremost, and a gracious penitent when provided charity. I have my own conscience to deal with, which recognizes the fragility of this; acts accordingly. I give, and I can’t wait to be back in a position to do so again.

My mood scores have been in the 4 area, which is the high end of normal. I am paying extra scrutiny given the change in environmental variables.

However, it is a fact that I’m elated, what can I say? I’m developing real feelings again for the first time in many years. Unlike the previously employed fake-it-to-make-it salve for loneliness, this is the real fucking deal. It has a hold of me somewhere deep, primal, and magnetic. I’m activated in a way I wasn’t expecting at all.

My physical scores have been wonky since my back, and subsequent rub rub rub ouchy time. I’m doing better though. Heat pad required for a bit and not too much wiggle wraggle.

Things are happening!!!

Compelled

M: 4.5

P: 3

I worked today, and it felt like a real Friday for the first time in two years. I was walking into the weekend with a belt load of credibility, paid hours worked, and a satisfaction of earned stupor. I did deserve this good feeling, this qualified euphoria accompanying a respite from the toils of existence. I feel like my life has finally started to accelerate at an exponential rate towards a glimmering point of light.

I am more involved now in my work and local community than ever before. I’m having to reboot my organizational skills, because I’m juggling more responsibility than ever before. At the same time as that burden is flailing about on a centrifugal axis, I’m feeling strong enough to restrain its pull towards chaos. I believe that this represents a culmination of all the work I’ve put in to refining myself at social awareness, personal responsibility and introspection. From the fragmented person who emerged with a bag of clothes and plastic flip flops from the psychiatric hospital, to right now. Lowest point to highest point (so far), in 4 years, and every positive step built upon the next.

Blog, I’ve met someone special at an absolutely perfect time in my life. Just as I am beginning to transition back to full independence, a miraculous woman has come into my life, and I am thankful to have such a compliment to my own spectacularly fulfilling existence. Her symmetry and mine are stunning, and in a category of imagined personality compositions designated as inconceivable instead of one that might exist.

My loneliness had, until very recently, exposed my past regret and shades of old love eviscerated, caused a great deal of turmoil. In all my attempts to find a partner was a dream for someone who would “fit.” I’ve never really comprehended what a “fit” would be. I had only known one person who had ever really come close, until now. Like a stream of concentrated photons, her arrival blasted through the gloom and dust to reveal a landscape of possibility. I’m infatuated. I’m intoxicated, and having a great time getting to know someone I fully intend to keep in my orbit.

I’ve tried this before. Yes. However, I did so while knowing it was a less than ideal fit. An admitted error of terrible consequence. I was making the best of what was available, or so I justified my transgression. Plus, at those intervals, I sought out of a desire to be complete or propped up to new heights by external adoration. I knew it at the beginning, whether I admit it or not, that I was making a mistake. I didn’t know it would consistently be my undoing, but I was not the introspective being I am now.

at this moment though, I’m complete. Three weeks ago, I was complete. In August I was complete. I wasn’t ever looking to find a missing piece out in the universe. I found a piece that fits that I never even knew could be there in the first place. She augments, adds, compliments and enhances. In this fundamental way, there lies a difference that divides the two motivations for companionship indistinguishably. One destined to fail on the basis of stashed resentment, and the other continuously improving and advancing a mutual circumstance for the benefit of both partners. It’s obvious to you too, isn’t it?

Everless

Twins of twilight–

Pixie-blink a flicker,

The grounded stars dance,

Hands catching–

Their fires alive.

Back across the stretching sky,

Racing alone to a distant–

Faded horizon.

Dust falls to ash,

Dimming until dark again.

To Have Hope

Believing is not about probability of success, but a choice to craft a purposeful prelude to a desired reality we hope comes to pass. In some extension or another, expectation has a secret that is the most desired result, but it is well hidden underneath the likelihood of disappointment.

I hope to be reached, but I realize also I never will be again. In this situation, I believe in both possibilities while not dedicating myself to permanence of one or the other. Sure I could be happy and fulfilled by love, and that would be fantastic. However, I’m also prepared to die without anyone knowing me any more than they do today.

Why we have to only believe one thing is beyond me. Are we incapable of comparative or contrasting thought? Must we always choose, when no choice is actually needed? I used to be an absolutist, but no more. I can be pessimistic of my chances, yet still vibrantly hopeful and not abandoning the possibility of hope for something more.

Well, there seems to be no movement (for now) in the distant aspiration of online companionship, and my current investment will terminate early February; representing the end of this period of heightened searching. It is good to acknowledge my emotions with effort, while not being driven mad by lack of tangible result. What meaningful increment can there be in such an environment if spinning variables?

I write now as I am alone. Maybe one day I will look back on this in reflective sadness, or in admiration. My life is brilliantly bright right now, and has ample chances to improve. I believe in me, and whatever comes will be accepted regardless.

The Variable

Do you ever have a new variable enter your stable life-equation and tip the whole thing? Sometimes adding that variable can be the most dangerous part, as one is never sure if the value is going to help or fuck things up. It’s better to get an understanding of acceptable parameter before adding as an integral component, if time and patience afford it.

I’ve done this variable adding, unsuccessfully, a number of times in the past. I’ve seen that variable undo the whole equation, and send it plummeting into exponential agony. I desperately do not wish to repeat the same pattern here again; not now or at any time henceforth.

A tiny speck of light has become momentarily visible; new and shrouded in ambiguity. What lies there is only remotely, distantly postulated; as a theory hangs on the edge of proof.

Unfolding now or later, the possibility of alignment, relation and understanding are a primal lure. Desperate like water to parched lips, it’s easy to gulp mouthfuls greedily while paying no mind to the rest.

I don’t believe in foolish things anymore, but I do like to think the spark isn’t just something J ignited within me and will never happen again. It’s something that others can inspire, and can provide fertile ground for admiration. It’s been a long time since I met someone new I could look up to. Maybe this will change that, but very likely not.

I don’t hope for silly things, but I am game for real things. May this be real, in a time where it is easy to be something false.

Alternate Universes

My thoughts run tonight, bucking through the crisp air. J is back in my thoughts, as she has been of late, and always to a lesser extent. I can’t help but spin alternate realities where she brings a stabilizing force to my family dynamic and a new balance is achieved. A place where her quirky, clever humor and woman’s perspective provided balance and helped us feel equal together. Laughing with frequency and living in a state where stability was enjoyed. Dreamy, bleary and almost laughable at just how far from reality it actually is.

The world is cruel, and through it I too have also acted cruelly, and kindly. All at the wrong times, it would seem. Now that the alignment of her life and mine has passed, there is no going back to change what has already been written. The view that accompanies this thought is inevitably folly.

I’m embracing my life now as a caretaker and forever disciple of family. It is so nourishing to protect those we love, and do our best to preserve their safety. I only have so much I can give, but what I have, I do. I love them and I will help guide them to peace in whatever way I can. In my dreams, I reach out to J and open my arms to her again, despite the furious rage she has aimed at me. I have always known her regardless. Somehow, there is peace again.

I can’t help but long for a parallel reality as my own comes under strain. I always imagine one with her in it, when I project myself forward. She is still just as jubilant, having not been thrashed by my disorder. I see so many alternate realities where we coexisted splintering off into infinity.

She opened me up: I got tattoos and pierced my ears, and she exposed me up to a world I had never known before, but was curious to explore. I too gave her things as our paths intersected often once we grew. But I was a fool, and so was she. In thus reality, she may have been able to, but I was never going to live that dream.

Night falls on a turbulent evening. It’s at times like this that I feel truly alone, with no confidant within my bubble to relate myself to. I remember having that though, and it is the greatest joy of my life. For a time, I was blessed.

As in my current predicament, I am granted the strength and stability to endure the changes my family is going to transition through. I am fortunate. I can do more. I will do more for them.

I have dreams. They will forever say dreams. I look back, and I am filled with regret.

I just know I will never be over her.

6 Years

How much time is quantifiably “enough?” How long SHOULD things take… or how long do we want them to last? Time is happening, but, I find, individual perceptions of it vary greatly. Including my own, within my own life.

I found something on the internet while clinging desperately hope and scouring for words and images of my past. I found some text and read it, from 6 years ago on Christmas… It was the spark of something powerful, frozen in time). A check-in from a previously unremembered interval that seems now more like decades ago. My chronologic sense of this period, not the same as memory, is vastly different from the actual measured steps of days recorded. Things were accelerating towards a peak in these words, glowing and radiant. I feel far removed from parallels or similarity now, but the hurt of it is still near…

What I think my askew sense of time shows is that it doesn’t take long for our lives to change. In the years since that note, I’ve fundamentally reprioritized, changed professions, passions, goals, and embraced a new reality that works for equilibrium in my present environment. I look back and both sigh with awe, and swallow hard knowing what dark days lie ahead. When I reflected, I thought about how many things I had yet to learn, and how fundamental a reboot I would receive in the years to come.

During the decay after that peak, things seemed agonizingly drawn-out, but smeared and indiscernible, like grease on drywall. Such distant turbulence is hard to accurately document with memory, but little glimmers like this one remind me that, regardless of outcome, it started the right way. I had forgotten, but the origin was well intended, innocent, pure, impulsive and magnetic. It was like a dream, but I didn’t work nearly enough to make sure it stayed beautiful, and we fell into decay.

A gift from the past, but one that carries the weight and responsibility of reality. I am a creepy stalker asshole whatever to go sniffing around… but my heart is broken and I don’t have enough ways of coping that channel my emotions productively, apparently. I look for her words somewhere out there, with an ill-fated desire seeking an alternative reality that doesn’t exist. I know it isn’t hiding on some website, waiting to be found, which rends me even more. There is no end, only an ongoing state of realized, unrequited incompleteness… and our remembered laughter echoes down the long hallway of time, reaching my ears as little more than screams.

I must resolve of my own accord, and in a time that suits me best.

Reconcile

A great deal of pain comes from this place of knowing there is no way to heal the gaping wound wrought by past trauma. No matter how badly I desire the bridge of communication to be passible, it isn’t. No dawn in the future, only a lingering dusk just after light has been sniffed out.

Once a thing is broken, the only choice has been to destroy it completely. Once a stain appears, the whole is forfeit. This absolutism deprives one of the responsibility of repair, or repurposed use. I scrap only what is irreparable, and despite the portents of death, there are still some damaged, tattered things I believe in.

Figuring out what to do with this has been a struggle for me. I am powerless, in the dark and unable to find a safe way out. The constant reminder of my previously earned solitude hangs on me like a bundle of meaning over my shoulder. I long so desperately, yet don’t exude and effuse in my daily life. This torment stays almost entirely within, in a place it can be kept away from contaminating the rest.

I’m pretty sure this is indefinitely ongoing. My future filled with the anger of years carried on across the plain like a ceaseless thunderstorm. All the while the wind and rain, I keep hoping.

J Sequence

Her face was here again. This time, her cuteness expressed in toy-batting playful behavior and boisterousness. I remember most keenly that she was with some friends of mine she never knew, captured in home video handheld camera nostalgia. In a booth at the restaurant, they gathered for a lunch that had and will not ever take place.

Earlier, I was delivering a sermon, saying “hosannah in the highest” and “praise be to God” before a massive crowd of soldiers with spears and axes. They waived their weapons of war and cheered in their clanking armor.

Some of my friends were doing a stage play before the sermon, which pleased the soldiers greatly. My friends were dressed is little old men in white robes and had little candle holders in their hands. They all three scooted out into the stage barefoot while a man in a gold cape tried to reach out and grab them from the wings while I held on to his flappy and tattered cape.

J looked beautiful. Her hair was kinda poofy, like she had styled it. She was on video playing with a keychain toy the dentist gave her in his office, then eating food at a restaurant with my old friends, mentioned earlier. She was eating a plantain it looked like, and the food she was attempting to conquer was too big to fit in her mouth. She laughed at the situation in that joyous way she does.

There was fire burning the land earlier, before J was anywhere. My old home had been reduced to ash as I saw from above. The fire was still burning over a few ridges. Smoke billowing up into the blue sky.

It wasn’t just me watching J, my whole family was there gathered around the TV of my childhood home. We were commenting on how cute she was and that she didn’t know she was on camera. My mom laughed while J spun the little keychain around on her finger as her eyes chased the toy, spinning around in the air.

At that moment, even though a screen and distance divided us from each other, I knew she was still a fit in this family, and a part of us somehow.

Waking up alone and too early, I wonder quietly if she is out there somewhere thriving, living a new life that is entirely her own. Once she flew away, I could not see. I do not know, or truly want to know, because there is no reality comparable to the one I’m in when I sleep.

Tomfoolery

The time for celebrating is nigh Blog. After all this time volunteering, I’m gainfully employed nearly at full time starting in January. I’m an employee of NAMI Sacramento and Mintz Computer Guyz for nearly 30 hrs/week. This is enough to replenish my lost savings and then some. What a relief that is!!!

I hear my negative voice trying to put a damper on my progress. It says: “you’re a liar and a crook. Your soul is black and you destroy everything you touch. You will bring only destruction to these people and your so called work.”

While I appreciate how much that voice hates me, evidence speaks to the contrary. I am valued in my occupation for my honesty and legitimate results. My heart is full of effusive joy, and I make those around me desire my company. I build things with effort and work, and promote a positive future for myself and others. I bring the advancement of goals and fulfillment of possibilities to all things I apply my passion to.

The proof is right here in front of me; laid out in deeds and actions done. That negative voice from within or without doesn’t have much fact to base a claim of ineptitude. I look at the proof of assumption and see the truth.

The voice demands a polar reality, where any transgression is tantamount to the worst conceivable result. Inflation, roiling resentment and unending hate are the motivators for this contributor. So, as I have with other persistent negative voices, I’ve learned to tune them out.

It is a tough habit to break, the indulging of the voice. We listen to it sometimes. Believe in the self-destructive lies. A pattern repeated until learned away from. I have not finished indulging that voice… which takes in the potent form of someone once loved (but now jailed in resentment).

The voice is only as sustainable as the environment allows. Once the climate is positive, it doesn’t make sense to listen to it anymore. I hope for more days like that ahead, as the barrage continues regardless.

Solstice

The days are growing again, slowly, coming to bear full as we travel around and around that big yellow thingie. We have been pointed at darkness for long enough, I say.

I’m hoping not to dream anymore. Rips are forming in my canvas, and the formerly delightful introspective brush set seems to paint only in black. It is this dark hour, when cuddling up by a warm seem the most honest if truths, that I mourn. I yearn, pointlessly.

The sun is coming. From out the shadows, it is blooming, growing. Radiating. I wish for that return to the hissing summer ghosts on the dry wind. The far away pollen smells of distant places, deep wet mountains and trees gulping in and breathing out.

Maybe this is it. Maybe not. It’s better to be prepared to deal with a difficult outcome than to be surprised by it. I can be surprised by all sorts of other things, but not calamity.

Down to the last few days before Christmas. Family, friends, fire… and freaking huge buds. Beer, bread and BADDA BOOM! We do know how to have a good time.

I do t think anyone is getting in the circle now. Not anyone new. It’s just too late.

Threadbare

A sinew;

Twisting, stretch-snapping the expanse,

Shredded down to an impossible wire.

But feeling it there–

Some thread still binding,

In unrequited twitterpation,

Escaping the fury of torment,

Yet yanking at the throat–

Scraping the hole left by death.

It’s only in dreaming–

That some bridge still exists,

A span still endures,

Where she can still be found.

Original J

Before Ja* there was Je*, and last night I was again visited by a spectre of my past. in Je*’s relationship, there was a very physical, carnal, fuel abundance. My dream ventured deep into the entwining moisture of sex, the spontaneity of passion, the strip-down clothes-shredding-seizure that ensures when the moment is nigh. But yes, there was still that anger and conflict. Even amidst that largely satisfactory arrangement, there was the tension of misunderstanding, the vast gorge filled with resentment looming. The fire burned fast, flickered, and then was gone forever.

It is emblematic of my past relationships. Starting with an explosion of similarly mirrored energies, then dwindling as the strands tear in the drift. It makes me wonder if I am going to be alone for the rest of my life. It makes me wonder if I am even capable of being a good partner. It reminds me of what it feels like to be loved by no one who doesn’t have to.

The Ribbon

This dangly, barely alive leg is about to cross over, yet, the gasping push is microcosmic in relation to the race. We are all running, flailing, falling, but still trying to break that proverbial ribbon.

The silence of hate. Somewhere far away, a sleeping mountain grumbles beneath. It’s all rose petals and la la la, right? That’s how this goes? Why don’t we all gather round the marmalade and sing a merry song of doom?

There are no stories that go how we think. There is this life, here, now… we do what we can with what we have left. The container is corrupted now. The whole spiraling nightmare is true, and from that irreconcilable oblivion the state of things is found. No fur-brained delusions will come true no matter how many are fed to the blood altar.

Wallow or wallop. It’s really up to you.

Insane Mumblings?

After a night of purging my emotional turbulence (see below), I find myself again, reflectively pointed toward action. Even after all the castigation and ridicule I subjected myself to, those pestering voices tend to get quieter when I’m being proactive in my life or meaningfully responsible, or using the evidence of such to validate the truth. This helps me do battle with that negativity when it shows up, most of the time. I tend to be more rational than spontaneously emotional, so going back over my thoughts and feelings helps me quantify and understand my responses to things. My reaction to J memories returning has been to vent, which I suppose is working in some ways. However, there is no real cohesion to a response or a course of action.

However. there is not a fundamental desire to make this a focal point of my ongoing life, even with some gesturing. Instead, it has taken a passenger’s back seat to several other priority items. Right now, I think I am my most well equipped to be a functional communicator In my life, however, not rushing to fill the space a partner would have. I still yearn for something abstract, shaped like a nostalgically recalled relationship I once had that was seemingly wonderful. None of that is rational. The assignment of emotions and blurriness to the memory is harmful at best, and arbitrary in nature since any number of other emotions are attached this way as well, and not destructively.

I see my wound, that place inside me that is still hurt, but there is no action to take, no tool to pick up and use. I just get up, and continue walking forward undeterred. She and I hurt each other, and now that pain reminds me of how not to fall into a similar situation, for myself or anyone else. My learned diligence as a result of my collapse has helped me take on the responsibilities I have today, and the fulfilling life so-far crafted. It was a scarring, agonizing lesson to fail, lose everything, reboot… and I still remind myself of that failure, as has been apparent.

What am I doing? I’m coping through expression, the best I can, to deal with my mixed up feelings and try to appease the part of me that is still fractured and splintered with pain. If I will never be able to help her resolve her pain, then at least I can work to resolve mine. It frustrates the logic motor to have nothing to “do,” per-say, no way to repair or permanently heal, other than to do one’s best obelisk impersonation for as long as possible. Survive, learn, and adapt. The pain will never stop, but it does not have to be a focus as it has been of late…

View From Below

I find myself engrossed in the mud of memory, slipping Back with each grueling step forward. There is sadness dragging me down, forcing me into the decompositional murk.

It is J. The memory of her. The impact she had in my life. After 4 years, the sting of her absence is just as real as the day she flew away. I know not how no let go of that pain. I feel her like a piece missing in my soul; at the very core of who I am. She reached me like no other, and I must accept she is gone forever.

I have not been able to do this because I still love who she was. I still love what we had when it was beautiful. She understood me like none before, and now she will never come back. The pain I feel here is something years have not reduced. Her departure is as fresh and bloody as any recent wound. Now, during this warm and family time of year, I miss her the most.

In times like this, when I remember, I tend to reflect in order to preserve my sanity. Having no word from her but another hateful disconnect in our frail communications is all I have left to remember her by. Her animosity. Accusing me of rape. She must truly despise me, which is a pain I must accept. I hurt her beyond repair, and now… now I am scum. A criminal. A pile of dirt. I wish. I wish she could see how I still love her. I wish she knew.

Blog, I come here to express, not to resolve. Unless clearly stated, my feelings are cast out into the ether with no expectation of understanding or compassion. I have only my own life to answer to.

I got a job today, and now I will have an income. I am a part of a team growing into future successes and possibilities. A whole new life built on pride and honesty is available for me. It is a future brighter than I have had in a very long time. I wish I could share it with her. I wish she was here with me, in these joyous times. I love her. I will not be able to stop, even if she wishes I was dead. All the wishes in the world will fall into the endless silence. There will be no reply. The dead do not respond. My broken place remains as it was, ever hoping, never knowing.

Daily Plop

How fragile the whole thing is. Just a scratch and the blood pours forth. Right there, still, after all this time.

And yet her vibration is hatred. Animosity, rage, disgust. How does one reconcile such a schism? There is no way forward from back there. Such deep prolonged sadness. A terrible regret for such a thing to go unreconciled.

Alas there is no answer. Just hopes cast like screams into the wind. Carried off again to some unknown fate, there is nothing left to hope for. No trace left to be found.

Deep in the dark, alone, I wonder where she is. Does she still feel me, the way I feel her? I tease myself with impossibilities yet always hold out true hope for a future that has almost no chance of being possible.

Music scrapes away the armor. Recollections of deep potency. These and many other tribulations of the heart of someone lost. Spinning down into a space filled with cold. I have not been the same since then, and I’m still figuring out how to be at peace with having lost her.

Stargazer

Streak burning green across the stars,

Puffy warm breaths at Jupiter and Mars,

Frozen cheeks stare in awestruck wonderment,

At surprises revealed by atmospheric turbulence,

Holding hands tight beneath the warm blankets,

Sky polished and bright for the great royal banquet,

Beneath the black cloak eyes ache for sleep,

For this fanciful dream he will always keep.

Bloosh

Retreating into a cave where destructive activity prevails. Gross meat smells. Funk. Sweat. Not many fans lining up for a sniff.

Sadly, this is the way that seems most likely. A slow half-life decay into subatomic oblivion. Casting no shadow in this world. What does it feel like to be erased from desirability?

I love someone who is gone from my reality. Gone forever with no trace; as though whisked to the ethereal plain. More an idea than an actuality now. The shredded hopes of a forgotten time. Writhing with the mournful despair for the dead.

Dried in the sunlight. Wasted to slurry in the dank dark of rotting loss. Grasping at the walls, hoping to climb out of it. Nails shredded and flesh-raw fingers rake the walls with blood. There was never any way out. Lying beside her corpse in the darkness.

She hated every last piece of me. Maybe hates me still. Nothing left. No part of my past that was worth keeping. Only the foul stink of decomposition remains. Yet, I wallow beside. In the festering bile, I still hope.

‘Grained

Some ridges–

Blunted by time’s decay,

Fractured rivulets across the plain,

Cavernous, engulfing.

Sometimes brushed or bruised–

Maimed and tarnished by use,

Stained, scarred–

Two canvases.

Alight a feather’s grace,

Delicate fingers unfurl,

Blessed the slightest droplet of dew,

Corralled briefly,

Unchanneled and free–

A transient of history engrained.

Under

Taken back. Days that seem brighter in their nostalgia. Is it misplaced fondness, or some bleary portrayal obscured beyond reality? I doubt there is a polar answer, but an amalgamation of both imagination and scar tissue.

Dreams can be triggers. Who was she to have left such a deep mark, one I have never healed from? It seems impossible, but it isn’t. The pain is very real. It’s with me always.

Numbered pasts. Counted scenes. Missed chances. How different would it have needed to be to have sustained? Are there parallel universes where we are still?

Drowning in my thoughts is s fitting way to disappear into unconsciousness.