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.

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.

 

Eject?

I feel a little better than I did last night, but it’s clear things in my local environment are falling apart. The implosion has been underway for some time with no change, as I stated earlier. I can only control myself, and the outcomes I am directly responsible for. I can choose what to do with my time, where to invest it and how to be effective in my limited capacity. Some words to describe my reality would be: oblivious, dysfunctional, malignant and frustrating. Do you see why someone who is geared towards helping people would be acutely frustrated by people who are totally unwilling to partake in progress? Or even in denial about how they think they are helping when it is just more of the same bullshit?

My social world is dwindling down to a tiny number of relevant people with only the premature seeds of potential still un-watered in the soil. I’m going to stick with what I know is working and just play the rest as it comes. No more reaching out, no more looking for external answers. All the truth I need is already within.

I guess this is true of all the aspects of my life. I am always open to change when it comes, and ready to face new challenges. Even in the flickering spark of possibility there is hope, though it can be utterly extinguished over and over again. I’m not checking out, but I am withdrawing my limbs and sheltering in place until something “real” happens. There are consequences to bad behavior, just like kids learn. You can’t get away with being damaging or acutely oblivious without incurring some consequence. Now is the time for consequences.

 

Unchanging

I don’t know why, but I always seem to hope for unrealistic things. For example: I hope that people in my world would stop and change their destructive behaviors and instead nothing changes. I hope that self-honest introspection would be seen as an aspiration, but still nothing changes. I’m mired in frustration; perplexed by a world of decay and stagnation while I try to emerge. I think I’ve finally snapped.

I’m not in psychosis, but I’m just done with the people that erode my healthy behaviors and perpetuate dysfunction. I’m tired of shallow and meaningless exchanges that build a nothing road to nowhere. Why am I wasting my time, skills and love on people who don’t recognize what I have to offer? I’m such a special person, and yet, I subject myself to a reality that will never comprehend all that I am.

This is my frustration. It is massive, unrecognized and undesired. I have very few people in my world that really matter or make a difference. My home is a wasteland. My social circle has chunks missing from it. My redemption is the hard work I put in to help people advance their lives towards prosperity, dignity and stability. That’s no joke. I really do help people, every day. Meanwhile I’m surrounded by resentment, disdain, denial and escapism. My role models are the worst people I know.

So Blog, I’m detaching. Fuck all that noise. I’m launching into independence of self if not of physical location. Soon enough I will be subject to a calamitous and changing circumstance, but the torture involved is unrelenting while totally unappreciated. I’m frustrated beyond calculation.

I tried to expand the bubble and I shouldn’t have. The world is just jam packed with idiots, mindless wanderers and deplorables waiting to poison my reality. Are you ever just sickened by the life you lead? Do you ever wish you could permanently exit? I think about it now. I didn’t used to, but now I do. This life is frustrating because all the parts that need to change are completely unchanging. Stuck in dysfunction. Sinking into the stagnation in a painfully slow fashion.

I do wish I wasn’t here anymore. Nobody sees me. Nobody is even slightly capable beyond a slim margin of well-traveled veterans of my bubble. Do you know how desolate it feels to know we’re all just faking real life? Every day is a pretend version of actuality. Every interaction is make believe. I humor my way through, but why? They don’t see me now, what difference would it make if I were dead? I’d still be just as ineffectual and easy to disregard.

I feel acutely hopeless. Lost. I don’t know how long I can tolerate this rancid rot that fills my nostrils. Denial. Revulsion. Despair. Goodnight.

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/

Birdy Letter Revisited

A letter I have written before, but write again as the clarity improves to the benefit of my understanding. For my heart, for my mind, these words are sent:

~~

Dear Birdy,

There seem to be no words that can be said to bridge the span that lies between us, but I am nevertheless compelled by my conscience to send these words out into the expanse as a mark of my intent, truth and the desire of my heart to be at peace:

In my life, I have transitioned from state to state, trying to achieve stability with my mental illness since I was diagnosed. In my right, back when we first met, I lured you unknowingly into that turbulent dynamic and you were destroyed by it in many ways because of my inability to prepare you for it. I did not adequately equip you for how to respond to my mental illness effectively, nor did I remotely or appropriately respond to yours when you called out for help.

I remember in the truck one evening with you coming home from my parent’s RV. I was stoned and you were a bit tipsy. You remembered a trauma about your old best friend and I was chastising you for thinking about something from the past, like it wasn’t important because it had already happened. I think back on how you were hurting that night, with tears in your eyes, and it breaks my heart. You were calling out to be comforted, and I just argued with you, scolded you. I was not able to see the way to hear your pain, and acknowledge your trauma, or even to comfort you when you are feeling vulnerable. I failed then. I know it, and I accept that I must grow to do better. I am sorry for this time, and the many others like it.

I did not have the tools to communicate effectively with you or express my feelings to you appropriately. I was not able to help you, when you needed a partner, a friend, someone to trust. This disparity and neglect is my greatest regret, for the beautiful person you are was hidden by my inability to see you, address your feelings, and be the partner you needed me to be. I was not a healthy person and did not deal with my issues in a functional, sustainable way in the time that we knew each other. I lied to you, hid things from you, and never told you how I felt inside. The lesson of my inability to sustain our relationship has taught me the skills I needed to survive further calamity and caused me to regret the missed opportunity to have done better with the woman I loved more than any other.

I am responsible for harming you, abusing you mentally, psychologically… because of my unchecked disorder and poor coping skills. My sanity was not consistent, and I was reeling in the end, compensating poorly, neglecting frequently. I have a great deal of ongoing shame over this which keeps me thinking about how I can be a better communicator in my future interactions. I was not the person I needed to be to have properly participated in a relationship, and for all the damage that caused to you, I am sorry. With a pain that I feel every day, I am sorry for what happened between us. I have never been over it.

There is no word, or words that can take away the trauma, the pain. I must bear that responsibility forever. I have done what I can to learn and listen or try to. I am accepting of my part, but only hoping to release the emotional burden by the recognition of spoken, actualized thoughts. For all the times these powerful words and memories have been whispered between my ears, I give them back to the endless void, echoing on into the silence: thank you.

Blind

Smeared streak across glass–

Prune-like pulp chunk,

Blasted splat to barrier.

Vacantly gulping–

Eyeball-seeking,

The other side.

Embossed in “la la” afterglow,

A faded twirly skirt no one wears,

In a vacant room–

11th floor–

A light was left on.

Spatula’d off the surface–

Plorped into a dustbin,

Mingling with the glops–

Deposits within firmament.

Fleeterly

For me, being a part of “something” is a carnal need. I do not exist to affect nothing or no one. The beauty of being alive is a one-time gift even in the darkest recesses of contemplation. Have the traumas of my life shaped who I am? Undoubtedly and proudly. There is no strength quite like being whole unto oneself. Am I there yet…? No, I’m not. There is still a big nasty growing of snaggy brambles and thistles in the way. Better than I used to be, though. This last should be a damn mantra by now. I believe, I act, and I empower. The answer has always been in me, which makes me aware of how to stimulate the joy of realization to someone in need.

Today positively added to my recovery journey. I ventured out to talk with my psychologist and enjoyed a table outreach event at a utility company campus. I’m looking back on all the events I’ve done this. So many more than I would have projected months ago. I’m growing, Blog, and I feel myself unfurling and snipper-snapping into a crisp breeze. I am making my path through the world, proudly.

Reaching people is a wonderful feeling. Establishing a connection, agreeing to build a bridge, or even just a firm, earnest handshake can be beneficial. I see the pieces of realization scattered about in disarray for the present. One day soon, the picture will begin to develop from all those pieces. Integration, driven by genuine enthusiasm promotes my outward identity. Put the mask on and vanish into a persona. I wish I could take it off and show someone my real face. I have many strings being pulled by loneliness.

The empty space. A hole in my core self that can’t be healed. Ever. Trauma takes me back there, for a time. This is acceptable in comparison to stuffing feelings into an already crowded lunchbox.

There’s today’s thought-vomit. Enjoy? >.>

Have a good night.

Explodey-Head

Hi Blog. I have detailed my depression centered lack of expressions, but that doesn’t mean I was idle. I graduated from NAMI Peer-To-Peer and snagged a Connection Recovery Support Group Facilitator certification. With some practice and knowledge acquisition, I fully intend to regularly facilitate a daytime Connection group at American River College.

NAMI is also lining up several outreach events in the last half of August and into a full September.

Those good thing having now been said, I am also having some noticeable side effects since I started the Risperdal. Two things:

  1. My mood and motivation have been noticeably changing. After tomorrow, I should know whether or not the med and I have a truce. In the meantime, I’m dealing with a symptom that I have affectionately named “head-explodies.” This feels like there are, occasionally, little cramps in my brain that cause a moment of disorientation, but resolve quickly. In the past, I have experienced them on withdrawal, but this time as I’m cycling up. Hopefully it’s not too long-lasting. I’m going to give it the full two weeks and talk to my doctor after.
  2. I have noticed a significant increase in motivation. I am starting to make something of the down time I have, instead of loafing or otherwise remaining inert. This is a promising sign for me because getting things done is what I’m all about. It’s odd, I don’t feel particularly happy, but I am able to work and put my mind to accomplishing something of worth much easier than it had been a few days ago.

I’m also going to start keeping those daily scores again as I transition on to the new medications I’m taking. This sort of data helps my doctors see me in a way that makes sense to them. Makes sense for me too, as I am a very data-driven individual. My skills have helped get me on a path that is actually going somewhere, with a future I am eager to participate in. Hopefully the new medication will work out, but there is definitely no certainty. We are are aware of the ongoing science experiment on mentally ill individuals we call BigPharma. Their guessing and presumptatory science sometimes has good, or terrible outcomes.

The side-effect cannon fire goes on into the night… and that Goddamn belltower… I hope those fucking Side-Effects blow that thing up and relieve us all of the incessant noise of the bell being rung. I JUST NEED AN HOUR TO GET SOME SLEEP! FUCKING WAR IS SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS!

Blurb

Tonight’s town hall had some ridiculously good moments:

-Was the only representative of NAMI there until after the event start time, and DOMINATED the organizing and preparation.

-Was called a “fine looking man” and was described as “very cool” by separate FEMALE individuals.

-Endeared myself further with my ED and accompanying staff, and will inherit the full responsibilities of my new title: Peer Connections Program Manager.

-Was thanked dozens of times by all sorts of people for my assistance, and was smiled at more times than memory can accurately retain.

-Provided solutions and tech insight for future meetings with free tech stuff given and access to a working projection system.

Basically, this was another exhibition of my invaluable self to NAMI, on a night when it was desperately needed. They would have been lost if not for me: fact.

I’m doing a good job of being introspective lately. I’m aware that depression is there, and creeping in. It invades like a tiny, little leak, reducing quantity at an undetectably slow rate. Tonight though, I felt like I gave that depression a kick in the teeth, or patched the leak with gum… or something. I was struggling, but I kept pushing forward, lifting, checking, helping, pacing… I was in motion, but, satisfyingly, thoroughly exhausted. It feels good to be deservedly tired; an ache I can reflect on and be proud of.

In the past couple years, I’ve endured doubters, neglecters, forgetters and haters. I offer no argument, for there is no debate to be had when it comes to judging the merits or flaws of my identity. This person right here is who I am: subsequently, it’s who I will continue to be for now. I would like to note that I am constantly improving to find a better way forward, but sometimes I slide down the hill into the poop-trough. My engine runs on work, commitment and respect, and makes lots of foul boy-smells come out. The fires that feed externally derived hatred from others originate from irrelevant, dry and lifeless roots of a long dead tree, reduced to little more than a pitted and rotten stump.

I’m satisfied with my integrity at this point, after years of positive reinforcement. The future is a big green arrow pointed up. Evidence being impossible to ignore while staying honest, I’m quite elated at the current direction I’m going.

Goodnight.

Symptoms

I’ve indicated in past notices that I viewed my current neurochemical state on a downward slope and recent observed evidence confirms that. I am alert in this state, but struggling to maintain good health.

Symptoms I have observed in the last several weeks:

Lack of interest in extracurricular or fun things

Slowness, soreness, delayed response time

Inconsistent sleep

Dramatic increase in effort required to motivate

Isolation

Neurochemical imbalance/deficiencies/symptoms

Dependence on substances in effort to self-medicate

___

So most of that is pretty serious shit. There was no sneaking, these things have been accumulating, or increasing. Now, as I try again amidst the fray to gain some objectivity, I see how the symptoms of increasing depression have begun to surround me. At first, I turned to some default negative coping mechanisms like escape, or regression. I was having a lot of angry thoughts, and consistently find my arrow pointed down at the start of every day.

However, as I told my boss yesterday: “this isn’t my first rodeo.” I’ve been down in the black pit before, and my reluctance to go back is all the reason I need to be introspective. I was also talking about that topic last night at my Peer-to-Peer class. I spoke about how I began to grow “tired” of being down, having my life collapse and all that. I continually sought to treat my symptoms, but for years I never really understood myself, my habits, and my flaws which can cause me trouble. That lack of comprehension provided a parade of doomed solutions for me to splay myself upon prior to detonation. That dynamic proved both painful and unsustainable.

 

Responses I have taken to the onset of depression:

Initiated process with GP to achieve referral to see local psychiatrist (top priority)

Discontinued consistent alcohol abuse as escape mechanism

Discontinued abundant cannabis use as escape mechanism

Established regular exercise requirements outside for at least 60 minutes

Current medications are taken on time and regularly. Organized for minimal dose confusion.

__

I know what steps I need to continue taking to improve my condition. More activity will help contribute where my current neurochemical cocktail is lacking, but it is not a long-term solution. I need to be doing everything I can to sustain until I can see a doctor and get my medications looked at by a professional. Medication management is one of my “three pillars” theory of sustaining good mental health. All pillars must be strong for stability to be achieved, otherwise, things get tippy.

I continue to walk forward, set on improvement, while conscious of potential pitfalls and internally-generated danger.

Flaternated

Score: +1

I did not start well and never had the energy to get going. I struggled with the things I could do, but largely loafed and yawned.

I feel tired, which is somewhat expected after working two events back to back. I am crunchy on the outside, but I do not have a Tootsie Roll center. Plans were set ablaze early as my state was poor to start the day. Improvement has a shot to be possible now that I’m going to bed.

It has been harder to get going in the morning. I do not feel spry, I feel like a bundle of dried twigs.

I’m not fully tuned out of the past yet. I still glance back, even though I know it serves little purpose. I again reaffirm my argument that because of history, nothing growing will be cultivated there. The land is patched and nutrient starved. No amount of water will result in lush new plant life. I must painfully admit this and proceed into a future without.

Such deep hatred. It’s because I have been a terrible person in my past. There is good cause. At least, ignoring any progress, a reality can be spun to cater to any need. Mine self deprecates accurately and with the intent of plowing through towards progress.

I have powered down the sensor array and diverted main power to life-support systems. Hopefully we will survive on those reserves until the rescue ships arrive.

Necessary Avoidance

I am endeavoring not to persist in polar judgement of things, and I do believe this is true in most recent cases. However…

I have learned that one of those areas that is still firmly polarized is my past loves. I can’t have them in my life at all, regardless of capacity. I have learned that there is no benefit in looking back, and the dead still do not rise up and walk amongst us last time I checked. The past is buried and gone, while the trigger on many memories can still be invoked and is active. This is the worrying aspect of my necessary avoidance.

The remembering is pain unrequited; a loss of unrealized potential. The devastation of a incinerated investment of love and trust, fouled by my own mistakes of circumstance. They are a disemboweled remnant of something beautiful that will never be anything more than the pile of organs and blood left splattered on the floor, regardless of my desire. I have tried too many times to resuscitate, staring the obvious impossibility down the barrel, and surprised when I’m shot in the face. I tire of this dynamic.

My own feelings are still not under control, at all. Even on a daily basis, it is a battle to go and do. The inciting agony of interference or invited contact from the past is too much to accept while straining to maintain balance. I can’t have anyone else now, and I won’t invite new people to participate in any relational capacity again. I am unfit physically and mentally for the task, and that is not debatable.

I don’t want to see, feel or think about it anymore. There is nothing there. There will not be anything in the future. I have no interest in this at all, and will avoid inviting any risk in the upcoming waning remainder.

It hurts, but “goodbye” is all that there is. I tried, but I was wrong to try. I was in poor judgement to think that the old soul would retain enough nutrients to allow something to grow. It is the past: unchanging and fading into oblivion. The future is all I have left, and I refuse to spend it pining for others.

I’ve wasted too much time as it is. The arrow points away from these contemplations, and so, I follow. Evidence says, move on… so, I try.

Aheadwardly

I see a way ahead that is not necessarily a pillow parade of yay and fluff all the way to Slappytown. There needs to be a significant flesh donation and ball sweat scrubbing bristle brush handle-rake of hard for much. That’s the way of meaning, and it’s always been buried under all the old snot and pungent goop we shoveled into the muckcinerator today.

I don’t know what to say about them from then. It seems like no one had a slice of cake available, or at least couldn’t wait until one got passed down. The cake was totally worth waiting for though, and Yelp reviews confirm as much for those who were there now. The words don’t come because all I can use to describe the cake are a series of guttural-unjugulations and grumbling noises.

Unlike your average biochemical spill, there are many benefits to my sudden and tsunami-like introduction to a new ecosystem. I contaminate with sticky and beguiling usefulness. I spread a contagious virus that inspires inclusion. My filthy, heaping mounds of saturated waste deposits fertilize new possibilities. Oh woe upon the day my foulness took root in the place over there! Good thing them then got as far away as they could before the everything caught fire and fwooshed to puffs.

Prosperous earthworm chug! The dirt of salvation is my poo! Victory plant, initiate maximum grow!

RELEVANCE! ACHIEVED!!!!

Blog, I’m fucking in. The inner sanctum. Me. In! My feet are standing upon sacred ground.

Established, trusted, proven, vigorous, persistent, pressing, VICTORIOUS!

I can’t explain now, but know the status is unprecedented and the future limitless. I am the disciple of fortune! I am the warrior of cause!

The possibilities are limitless!

Yes!

The confirmation has come, and the future is being built like a bastion of protection, and inevitable success/relevance.

I’m in Blog… and it’s the dream I’ve hoped for for so long. To have a life that gives, redeems, replenishes. It is all right here for me, ready.

This is the day, in which it begins.

Turns Out…

Consider this a post a notification of Blog redaction Concerning my previous post titled I Stand, Accused and resulting comments.

In response to the comments: I am still willing to discuss my behavior in relation to my exes and how my mental illness or other states cause them harm or trauma. I think engaging in a discussion about this sort of thing could be constructive. However, I think participation is still strictly contingent upon some form of mutual respect and not complete vehemence.

I do vastly prefer constructive conversation opposed to destructive and hateful word-chucking (which is all that was fundamentally happening).

So with that, I have had a very thought-provoking and emotion-assailing 36 hours, but now the hope for useful discourse on the topic of my transgressions is gone.

I will, no doubt, have some form of ambiguous summary failing to disclose vital facts of the matter but tempting with scintillating adjectives which imply, but do not overtly suggest anything.

I’m the same me I was 30 minutes ago, and getting ready for another fun-smelling day tomorrow.

 

Walk Of Attonement

There is something fundamentally rewarding about survival through adaptation I have found. It’s a sense of worth, because many obstacles and trials were not enough to destroy the foundation and raze all that was built prior. Ruin should not be the mechanism of redemption because we do not reside in a world of unquestioned absolutes and flaming rubble. Instead, progress is quantitative; a multitude of accomplishments (theoretically) having been laid down instead, sloping upward towards a measured goal among many. This is not always easy to see, but truly can’t be destroyed without full and unquestioning self-participatory assistance.

There should be a caveat, because it’s not as simple as one small but purposeful paragraph (needless to say) to enact life-altering change. Pain is the key to recognition. Sounds unpleasant, largely, because it is (and should be). This may not be true of everyone, but hurt, regret, sorrow and suffering are an essential part of our human understanding of reality. Though we typically don’t live life at the extremes of emotional polarity, they exist as reference for when things start to stray from center. The drift of the perceived norm is the real piece to highlight, because there comes the setup for a moment when a threshold for tolerance is reached and crossed. At some interval which is different for everyone, a realization of position of the emotional pendulum is recognized. It is in this quandary of action that things become critical.

All humans are fundamentally different in countless ways, one of them being the cognitive tolerance for despair. Commonly thought of as an undesirable state, the supplicant of sorrow has a point in which the intensity and relentlessness of the state is unbearable, and in such stark contrast to the opposite end of the spectrum of feeling that dramatic action seems more tangible and needed. At this pivotal juncture, a choice can be made to continue in the current condition, or change somehow.

Again, not just as simple as a choice you make in your head and then boom, done. This revelation often comes at cost, and not always a productive result. For many (myself included) the first avenue consist largely of escape by one means or another (drugs, games, delusions, cognitive distortions), then suicide when there is no where else to go. In my own circumstance, I found that mental and physical isolation led to the trouble, a fundamental lack of constructive dialogue, as well as issues with being misunderstood and under-engaged. Plus, there are almost certainly lots of other contributors which vary per individual circumstance.

Given that death isn’t a solution to anything, and having failed at it personally, the lesson learned helps to dictate what information can be learned to push the load further uphill. Now, this moment of having been defeated in the attempt of self destruction or mutilation should serve as a marked transition point in which a new direction needs to be calculated. Or, should be. But why?

This is the most difficult part of the argument, because it relies on a person’s ability to compare alternating states of awareness in a crisis. I have never been very good at this, but the last time I hit rock bottom, it clicked. I could either stay this way, miserable, coasting just above the desire to exit existence entirely, or, to remember that feeling proud, or even positive, would be like fresh water to parched desert lips. The metaphor helps the imagination, which was a doorway, for me, towards realization and then action.

I, ultimately, wanted to feel good. I’d rather have many more days of trying for and achieving happiness than to check out of the world. The thread that kept me stitched together was hope. In and of itself, hope is too ambiguous to be useful. However, when tied to the looming mystery of the future, the window of possibility opens.

We don’t know, with any true certainty, what tomorrow will bring (unless you happen to be Madam Cleo). The fascination and promise is just as balanced between negative and positive as one would expect for normalcy in most cases. I personally hang on to that thread because I know that if I tug on it, I can take advance in a new direction. It is a hope that I am not eternally defined by the shortcomings and atrocities of my past, but rather, incentivized by fortune to make something better of the legacy thus far wrought. The ammunition to fend off advancing doubt is pride, and the individual actions that increase the evidence for having that radiant, internal confidence.

That may not appeal to someone grounded in surrender, but even the most well-established doubter can see the potential benefit of comparative reality assessments. See a future not yet realized, and head down the road towards it, I would say. It seems like a pretty fundamental adjustment to make if success is sought. I don’t pretend to be any more of an expert than my lived experience allows as I write this. I have seen, and will see, the very struggle I detail here if not within myself regularly, but in the world around me. I hope you can also see that this evidentiary argument has a real grounding in logic and constructive incrementalism. One step forward, two back, two forward, one back… and so on.

Join us. We are going into the future with the pendulum back where it belongs.

Lost Day

Score: +2

Hi there.

Never really got going today. I did my steps but I’m not feeling the enthusiasm. 20k two days in a row does take a toll.

This is temporary. I guess I’m feeling a little sad and lonely, which is not at all abnormal. I did just formally end all contact or intention in that department. No appreciation was coming from that place anyway.

Today never felt right. Even as I ready myself for bed, I still don’t feel good. I’m sneezing a fucking ton which I don’t like.

Tomorrow brings new opportunities. Maybe even a chance to take a profound step towards change.

Reset. Reboot.

Well, I’m still feeling bad. Where can I put all these thoughts? Why am I the only one who forgives? It just blows my mind that resentment could be so appealing a salve. I clearly know nothing about women. Ever.

Here I am complaining. Uselessly. Resolving nothing. Vomiting my empty soul into the ether of disinterest. No one who should care, does. All that was is gone, never to be had again.

Highly Useful

Score: +3.5

That score might have been higher but my physical exhaustion is peaking. I had a solid 4 hours of packing and labeling today, and more tomorrow. I’m quite familiar with moving and I know the steps that need to be taken. The labor is the only obstacle.

Lots of connections are being made with relevant individuals, forwarding my career. I am more established and essential than ever before, and solidifying my status as a relevant individual in my local mental health community

Blog, right now, as I feel quite stated and exhausted, I have a sense of meaning that is hard to explain. I have an integral part to play in my community, city, county that I have yet to fully comprehend. I take steps forward, every day, to try and make a difference. This world is not right, and from whatever aspect of it that I can, I will try to change it.

I have been on and on about this. If anything, it’s evidence that I’m serious. I really do want to affect change, and I’m learning the things I’ll need to do to accomplish that. A lot of what I have left to give will be outwardly projected towards provoking action.

Tomorrow is another day of earning my worth. I demonstrate my dedication by continuing to be there, be present and helpful for an organization I believe in. One that has previously helped me immensely. I know we can bring something better to this county, and I’m determined to try.

I do, however, feel more alone than ever before. No one understands me. No one cares to know why. No one desires to know. The lack of personal interest may only be a temporary thing, subject to change. That concept is key, since I am a motivating force to help deviate from am unsuccessful norm to a productive alternative.

I wish.

There is nothing left for that. Those dreams are gone.

Time might be running out. Just do as much as can be done, and know in your heart, you did what was right. Die with honor.

Pulse

Score: 0

Hi there. I know I haven’t been consistent as I hoped in the documentation department. To be frank, I’ve suffered of late with the symptoms of depression, subsequently, feeling less inclined to open up and make with the words. I have also been on a streak of having to jump up and down to get noticed or listened to about how I’m feeling, and even at that, there has been marked failure. No one really seems interested in me in what is left of my circle, or anything I’m doing for that matter. My enthusiasm for forward progress has been entirely self-generated.

I feel stagnant the last few days. I also have taken note of that and executed some structural action to improve. I have dedicated a slot to creativity on Wednesdays, in which I will attempt to forward the progress of my novel. I have a temporary goal of achieving the lofty benchmark of 30,000 steps in a single day at the end of the week. I have been close before, but never above 27,000. This weekend I have volunteered to represent NAMI Sacramento at the Pride Parade and festival downtown on Sunday. Its a good opportunity to meet people and spread the gospel of mental health awareness.

I’m isolating. My interests are becoming vastly external, and devoted to the cause of doing “good” for society. My moral compass points towards justice, and my actions speak to that truth. What I thought would be a very inspiring and radiant time of my life has actually created a sort of unprecedented solitude and near-universal interpretive disinterest. Never has my “popularity” been less, and my overall relevance has been diminished to just what I believe it is. I still have a great deal of pride in myself… maybe this is folly since it seems the resounding opinion is to the contrary.

Honestly then head-voice, ask yourself: “how does one step forward of all is lost?” Basically, you don’t. I’ve been to that place. It is misery, upon torment and pain. The spiral keeps going down forever. The only way is out. The direction is up. is it hard? Yes, surely, and with the obstacles there will be many… but an end to the ongoing cycle of torment with no hope of deviation. I, head-voice of doubt, hold on to that. It is my everything. I don’t want to be a useless pile of symptomatic protoplasm. I have a mind, a perspective, and something to offer this world still. I have stared into the darkness and let myself fall. I have been to that place and come back. There is a reason for that.

I won’t give up because I’m more stubborn than all these people around me who could care less what I’m up to, or any new people I meet who try to resist my meteoric trajectory. I’m my own motivator, my own counselor. I don’t need anyone else in this life but myself, and neither should anyone out there who has half a brain. I have been burned enough times to not touch the “others oven.” I will not be deterred, and I will push forward. If there is ever to be stability and completeness in my life, it begins with a dedication to the self that is unwavering. I have begun to realize the value of constructing a massive fortress over time. Trials add bricks, which build walls higher, and thicker. Soon, there is no need for others, when all that is needed lies within a fortification that will not be penetrated or besieged.

Is it lonely? Yes head-voice, it is lonely… you and I both know that. We have been through this point many times, and I did listen to you when we tried to recreate some spark from the past. Now, however, head-voice, I am not listening to you anymore. I am hurt enough to stop trying, and that will be the end of your complaining. You and I can plainly see the facts. Moaning is not going to help convince me that siding with you is a good idea… we’re moving on and ending this post, and if you don’t stop all that fuss I’m sending you right back to your room and closing the door.

..

zzzzzzzzzzzzztttt

 

..

 

..

 

..

 

zzt

.

.

.

AAAAHHHH!!!!

.

.

-{===|]

 

 

 

 

 

Alas

Score: +2

Got extra steps and sun time in today since I had been feeling down. I called a psychiatrist and got another job interview, so I’d say that was productive. I did some good things for myself.

In other news, a spider is in my room somewhere, hidden, waiting. I had my chance to kill it, as it was a particularly unfriendly looking arachnid. However, it deployed some form of countermeasure and escaped destruction. I’m thinking Bears are behind this.

I feel pretty detached from my sexuality. After separating my focus from topics without solutions, I’ve done a lot better managing my emotions. My sex drive basically shut off, with no object of desire at all within the scope of reality, no future, no investment to make. The flame has been snuffed.

I continue to find my place in this new city of mine. Trees are friend, it has been known for some time. I’ve lost my fishing impulse. It just, doesn’t feel fun. Clearly, this is depression affecting me slightly. I can push through with simple survival in mind, and very likely be okay. I do hope to hear back from the psychiatrist next week and get something scheduled.

Though I am clearly struggling, I am coping. I express, process and move forward. My hope is to achieve stability and prosperity again, while still being able to protect those I love.

The cat, on the other hand, vexes. Since Moo bought healthier rabbit meat kibbles, they have been soundly rejected in comparison to the previous variety of fleshy rabbit freeze-dried meat hunks. As you are about to see, the fantastic enthusiasm leading up to the moment food arrives could not have been more disappointing.

Promotatives

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

————–

Friendly

Outgoing

Ambitious

Humorous

Creative

Original

Insightful

Wise

Intelligent

Sincere

Logical

Attentive

Generous

Communicative

Sexual

Emotional

Courageous

Observant

Honest

Gentile

Affectionate

Dedicated

Loyal

Determined

Optimistic

Jubilant

Effusive

Kind

Moral

Upperfied

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

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

Sleep ‘n’ Bud

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

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

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

Chabookafresh

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

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

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

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

Next Phase

Score: +4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s back!

-{===|}

Attitude Adjustment

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

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

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

Beneath

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

Crawling Forward

Score: +2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patterns

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

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

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

I feel the need to draw this line

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There we go.

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

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

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

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

Splat!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope you all have a good night.

Miserable

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

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

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

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

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

BLARGH, AAAKK, I’m Ded!

Score: -2

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

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

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

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

Thank you.

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

Goodnight.

P.S.

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