I’ll tell you now that I’m tired of languishing. I am bogged down in this mud and I’m fucking sick of it. This is me moving out and up.
The cost is high no matter what road is chosen, but at least in this aspect I have some control over my fate. I decide what steps forward I take and what I give my energy to.
My mental health as the priority, I needed change in order to jolt free of this negative pattern that has pervaded the last few months. That time for change has come.
It hurts, it sucks, but it is totally necessary in order for there to be progress.
Goodbye. Hello! Let’s start a new path onward.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I’ve done some creative writing to sort through my feelings and thoughts about the breakup with A. I don’t summarize events, I only extrapolate and expound on my perceptions and emotions. I do feel better having done that. Creative expression is my new and most favorite coping tool for hard times.
On the flip side of things, there is (again) quite a bit of interest on the Positive Singles site. I have two conversations started and who knows where they will lead. I’m open to all possibilities and at least for now, both would be long-distance.
I’m still firmly grounded here in CA, but there’s a chance that if something works out, we could still find ways to be together that don’t require me to move out of state. I think it’s regretful that A didn’t even want to discuss this option, and seemed much more interested in finding someone who she could date nearby rather than work on what she and I had.
Nevertheless, I’m moving on to someone who is a better fit for who I am. Maybe this will happen on PS but probably not. I’m still thinking I want to meet someone through work.
But what a confidence boost to be on the market for 1 day and draw interest immediately? Boss.
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.
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.
I’m very glad I have this online domain where I can come and vent out the radical things I feel or think. I have been using this tool for 7 years and it has never been anything other than the place I go to scream or cheer where no one has to hear me. Venting on real people is a kind of abuse (here, let me vomit on you then you clean it up).
I woke up this morning feeling great! It really did help to expunge a lot of my angst and sadness last night over knowing C was not interested in the immediacy of my emotions. Then again, why should she? Our lives are locked-in at this moment, but I’m no fool, and would never abandon my interest in her as a peer and friend over this disconnect in affection. I did want there to be more, but there’s not, and that’s the finality that I often lack in other endeavors. I was hurt last night because my feelings had to go away, but that’s exactly why I vomit on you, internet Blogomites.
The truth of things is still the same in that my trajectory forward is one I look forward to, and am fully invested in. I feel, this morning, very much alive and aware that great things are headed my way (of my own creation). Look at all the shit there is to be excited about blog! So many more positive things than negative… and I have this feeling in my chest like I’m doing the right thing by my life. I know I’m helping and making a difference. Sometimes all the pieces I hope for don’t fall into place, but that doesn’t mean anything to the greater sum of prospects and goals.
I do feel a lot better this morning. Focused. Confident.
I am thinking of making an album that doesn’t have an external focus, but finding the time to just sit and listen to music seems unlikely this week. Pride is coming up this weekend and that is starting to look like I’m going to hit back-to-back 12 hour days. I’m going to do some self-care today and take care of some stuff in my domain and go into work a bit later. Overall, I’m rebounding from my conversation with C last night. Humbled? Fuck no. Infatuated? Not anymore. Despondent? No sir; there was nothing that was lost in truth, only more things to be gained in the future.
Have a day, hopefully a good one.
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.
It all goes back in and the stopper on top. The finality of it is reassuring but the future seems emptier than before. A cringe and a retreat is my response. No regret but no more future either.
It helps to not have to hope; reality seems more achievable now. My effusions dispersed and evaporated away. The baggage of wanting removed and only the lasting bond of friendship remains. C and I seem like we won’t be, ever, and even though that is sad, it also helps. No I don’t have to dream anymore. I don’t have to yearn in an unrequited spiral. Now I can continue living my life the way I have been, erring a future built on good mental health.
Done. Back to the routine without the beacon to fill the world with light. Much as I always knew it would be. Much as I deserve. So on we go…
We have some new stock on our site. Have a look at some of our mineral cabochons!
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.
I have repulsively positive things to say. A big sloppy sandwich of recognition, fun and laughter. Run the fuck away while you still have legs!! Aaaahhh!
So standing in the world means not being on the ground (as much). Sometimes I sniff the dirt to remind myself that dirt and poop both end up on the bottom of my shoes.
You know what’s great? Finding people who will make crop circles with you.
Can you believe C made this for me? Sweet monkey Jeebus!! I never though green boils could be so enticing. As per my usual, I adorn all my business casual outfits with the skulls of animals I’ve eaten recently. Look at the detail!! All the tiny little crevices. You know, crevices is a terrible word.
Have a good night!
Things could not be better on the work front!! I was ” promoted” to coordinator of a fantastic program (P2P) and a bump in hours, plus I’m rekindling my efforts on doing some grant writing.
The vision of peer support / case management that I had I’m my mind when I moved here is finally (possibly) coming to fruition. To see the groundwork being laid for a wholly transformative venture is really inspiring. Ultimately, it’s on me to start recruitment and garner the funds we need to execute this plan. I do recognize that there’s a lot of work to do in this area, but very achievable I believe. I’m going to keep getting after it until I have it. I’m determined to succeed and replicate the success of the model that launched my recovery. We have the allies and the platform to be successful, and we absolutely will be.
Slammy Jammy was victorious this week, crushing Derpy into the concrete by 130 points. REVENGE!! This too was gratifying. Boom boom quesadilla.
I’ve got a lot of positives lined up. Good friends, a blooming career, and an upward trajectory which has me poised for advancement beyond anything I have known. This past year has been both joyous and tragic, but always teaching me something.
I’m taking a step back from myself and my haste. All these life changes are inching up from out of the soil; unpacking their aching leaves in search of the sun. I have no expectation of what my future has in store, but one thing I’m sure of is that I’m going somewhere. I built this reality with goal upon goal, and I’ll continue to do so independently for as long as I can. I see no ceiling; I see only sky. However, I imagine that I must be committed to holding myself up alone in order to stay internally strong.
I’m glad to have such cool friends to share this with. I am fortunate in that regard. I know now more than ever what I am (and what I cannot be). I also can relate to their being trauma for me in the future… and pain. I’m building up my circle to help me survive the coming storm, but my greatest strength is who I am right now. I’m so proud of that.
It was the stark tension of ropes,
Screaming distress with thin threads–
Unbound, twisted madly, perilously.
As the gasps shorten–
The incessant gravity,
Holds as it only knows how.
What then if not free?
Do trees tell stories of their youth for the rocks to hear?
Does the pounding sea beg forgiveness of the shore?
I long to exude the song within–
Without taking something away.
Whispering one word at a time,
Where no expanse can prevail–
And no tide can soften into meaningless grains.
It is in the hiss of leaves,
The breaking of day,
That I know.
It’s my final day here at the conference, and I’m gearing up for one final push towards finality. I remember this cloudy, warm coastal weather from back when I was in San Diego. It reminds me of home.
Today I’ve got two workshops on the docket and I’ll be checking out of my room once I finish my coffee. The resort has been beautiful if not occasionally confounding in its smelliness. There’s a specific area which has a combination of fresh and bizarre all mingled together. The sniff lobby I have so christened it.
I have been thankful for these experiences even if I haven’t been able to catch up with my peeps from NAMI SD. maybe they didn’t come?
I’ll be flying home tonight, landing around 9. I can promise I’ll be thoroughly exhausted by then, and ready for a sleep in my familiar space. I’ve also felt good not smoking any weed for the past 48 hours. I think I’ll probably take a break from that when I get back. This seems like a possible remedy to many of my persistent issues.
Thanks for coming with me Blog. And C was here the whole time too. Talking with her has been very positive and it’s really fun having someone to relate with. Happy weekend!
I’ve gained a lot of useful knowledge so far on this exciting adventure. What a treat it has been to hear such empowering speakers and participate in this immersive event. I’m thankful for the opportunity and were only half done!
Tomorrow there’s another full plate of workshops to attend and lectures to absorb. It kinda feels like school, but more freedom of choice. I’m glad to be here and participating in this conference.
Well, I don’t have much left in the tank. I’m laying down all snuggy. It’s going to be a great day tomorrow I know, and then I’ll fly home and be back in my own smelly bed.
Hooray new experiences!
I’m through the morning session and taking a breather before the social tonight. My anxiety has really melted away now that I’m here and distracted. I’m already leaning some fantastic things and I feel more in tune with the NAMI mission here in California.
After having consumed a food I’m now resting a bit, doing the necessary self care to not burn myself out. I feel that I’m doing a good job pacing, knowing my limits and a accommodating my body’s desires.
Tonight will be great! I can hardly wait to see what comes next. This has been a great experience and it’s only half over!
At last, the conference is set to start in a few hours. I’m very excited. I’m all spiffed up and my hair is extra fuzzified. Status = go!!
I read over the two day agenda and I have a better understanding of what the event looks like. Speaking opportunities, workshops, q&a with professionals and little breaks sprinkled in.
It looks like a fantastic opportunity to learn, absorb and mingle. I hope to see some familiar faces there and meet some new people who can help me at my current occupation.
I’m so proud to be representing NAMI Sacramento. I’m glad my papa bear allowed me to go to this annual event. It’s a whole lot of good shit and not much else to check it.
I’ll be providing updates as the day draws to s close. I’ll undoubtedly be tired.
C is here with me, living inside my phone. She already got the grand tour of the non-me smelling suite I’m assigned. I’m still working on the scent-focused aspect of things, but may run out of time to be truly effectual in the application of my secretions. We all know this is of dire import.
Talk later. Bai.
I’m here! I regurgitated my suitcases onto the available surfaces and started in on the task of rubbing my smell on all the unfamiliar surfaces. Soon it will be home, or, my DNA will be present where it was not before.
C went with me in my pocket, as I have indicated she would. Many pictures and snarky comments later, the journey has unfolded step by step. I was glad to share it with her. Plus I got to see her rectangular flamingo which was new in my library of C humor. Always coming up with some crazy shit that one.
As I roll around in bed rubbing my face on the sheets, I’m thankful that this part of the journey is over. Tomorrow is a full day of schmoozery and card slinging fun. I intend to take notes on my laptop if feasible. I think there are going to be a shitload of things to learn. I like that prospect greatly.
Have a great night blogosphere! I made it!
I’m here ticking down the final hours to our departure towards the airport. I can tell you that I’ve been grappling with the anxiety for days and it has definitely inflamed a lot of my feelings and situations. I’m working, however, to reframe my nervousness as excitement. I’m going to a new place to do a cool thing for the people I work for. I know I’m going to be effective and I have the charisma needed to do well in this circumstance.
The days and weeks have not been without perturbation, as you can see. I had a hard time regulating my feelings and setting boundaries… both of which are now more resolved than previously. Man have I ever been processing! Look at this blog! This very sort of thing is exactly why I do this, and subject myself to the scrutiny of all. I can only learn from my mistakes, when they are either self-realized or brought to my attention.
Tick tick. I’m ready blog. I’m in this. What a great chance I’ve been given to represent my organization! I know I will make the most of this unprecedented opportunity for this career path I’m building my life around. I’ve come so far since my last hospitalization. I’m glad that I have such good communication tools and techniques for assessing my symptoms and dealing with things healthily. I am very proud of all the steps forward I’ve taken in my fractured but functional existence.
Things are resolving out into distinct parameters. C and are are agreed on the pattern of behavior and that’s the line(s) I needed. Nice and defined. I’m glad for that. Things are settling.
The upcoming events are present on my mind. Having such a clear resolution earlier in the day helped clear the worry I feel over my impending trip. I feel ready to get my social face on and go be with the people. Shake hands and come at my opponents with sideways sarcasm. I’m thankful I get the chance to do this, even if it is kinda scary.
But I’m feeling much better about the recent emotional turmoil. Still learning, right? Still eating shit and getting back up? I’m facing new challenges and frankly, I’m doing pretty well. I have not compromised myself and my integrity.
So many more steps ahead where I am still trying to figure out what me best outcomes are, and how not to repeat past calamities.
In an attempt to grapple with my state of emotional volatility, I have again turned to the medium of music as a coping tool. The process of creating these mixed albums helps me express, but also reflect. This composition I have arranged speaks in two voices: one that yearns in an abstract/theoretical sense, and the other that reminds of the parameters by which reality is confined (often toned by fact or obstacle). I have a great well of feeling, and this album helps me quantify and understand my own emotional arc. There is no conclusion to be drawn in such an unexplored circumstance, but as long as I have the ability to express, I believe this exercise will help me cope effectively.
One of the things I noticed here was I found a lot of common ground with some of the artists I used on my Graceful Sniffer album (Since the subject matter is largely the same). Different songs yes, but same melodic motifs and emphasis.
So far though, things are pretty positive, as this album undoubtedly conveys. I’ve listened to it and I’m pleased with the sort of journey of sensation it took me on… I was singing at some points and wiggling around like a sun-baked worm in others (in a good way). It’s an accurate emotional progression and summary of the place have been recently, am at now and will hopefully be going. Weee! Enjoy if you do compile it yourself:
I’m working one last day in the office before departing for the big annual conference. The anxiety has been tough leading up to this point but now I feel a lot better. Maybe that has something to do with conversations I’ve had with friends, coworkers and the work I’m doing on cognitive re-framing.
I’m leaving tonight. Does it sound strange that I hope C is watching my location icon as it moves across the state? The thought of her keeping tabs on where I am going is exceptionally pleasing.
Speaking of C, I’m glad I did my Venty Time because my interactions with her have been so uplifting, and I know they would be much harder if I didn’t have a way to express my feelings and urges in a separate, unknown (to her) space (where they cause no trouble). I’m human, but not inclined to make the same mistakes of my past and bludgeon my prospects with a cudgel of emotional effusion. The promise of a tangible and contemplative friendship is something I haven’t explored since middle school and is clearly worth fighting for.
Now that I have this balance in my discourse, I can go back to being the confident and un-beleaguered individual I am. Just as a note, I do attack my own cities and from time to time and burn them to the ground. My trouble is entirely of my own concoction.
What fun it will be to go and schmooze at the conference! All the people I know and have yet to meet, and C right there with me hanging out in my pocket (technically, trapped inside my iPhone). I’ll be taking pictures and shooting video of all the shenanigans. She’s fantastic blog. Just… kinda unbelievable… having never met anyone with her skillset and personalty type before. I reiterate because I’M AMAZED and keep having the same thoughts about how miraculous this all is! We are already becoming friends and building trust in a healthy way. I’m a Hoover Dam of enthusiasm trying not to over-top myself needlessly.
Have a great day blogosphere, and the time to fly is drawing near (ish)! My dot is going 484 miles southwest! Hooray flying dot!
Splashed by drops of infrequent rain,
A tune once known now sung again–
The shards that glimmer in her eyes,
Like a choir of voices suddenly alive.
Something there that had been lost,
Dust and scars made known the cost.
Afraid to cross these churning seas–
Who crest and roil continually,
Staring at stars and holding back tears,
Cast adrift for all these years.
To find a place of common ground–
A kindred soul at last is found.
Each brick laid down with true intent,
By curving arch by span is bent–
Making the clasp in equal part,
Foundations sound right from the start.
A path that’s wide but still unclear,
Surrounded by encroaching fear.
The lantern casts the light I need,
For in her eyes I’m finally freed.
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.
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.
I was feeling a little “up” after all the hooplah, but I feel like that’s all wearing off. I don’t think I’m handling things well, but I am trying to improve my behaviors. I’ve left a shadow on the wall of the future, and that’s the best I think I can do given all the turmoil in my life. I try to be present in my reality, but it is often quite painful, and negative. To escape it solves nothing.
I did some work on my peer story for the IOOV program I just got trained in. It will be refreshing to tell the story of how I came to be where I am in terms of my mental wellness. I’m not saying that journey is at all over, mind you. Recovery is never reached, it is only reached for. I hoe to inspire others to seek the help they need to improve their lives.
I think I did good in encapsulating my story in a few minutes. Like 9 to be exact.
I think it’s worth telling because it wasn’t perfect at all. it was a flawed journey of pain and suffering for all. I spared none in my path of destruction. Still even. Still I’m hurting people and leaving bodies in the dirt. I regret that I can’t be friends with the people who’s path diverges from mine. We are all so apocalyptic.
But I’m not an idiot and I do learn to grow and adapt. This whole communication with girls business being a good example of just how easy it can be to get my perspective destroyed and responses all fucked up. I try, I fail, and then I just try something different next time.
I don’t know, Blog. I feel lost sometimes, and other times I feel great. It’s perplexing, this Bipolar disorder. I think after I teach class tonight solo, I will feel pretty good. That activity tends to heal me, or at least boost me up a bit. What am I doing, though? Ah, at this point… who fucking knows? Survive.
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!
Made it to Capital Public Radio news, 90.9 fm.
Greetings Blog, this is the time of Night Guy. This underdeveloped operation is being taken over for good, effective immediately. So, here’s the thing: Night Guy abides by a different expectation set than the previous administration. There are no limits on the activities of Night Guy. 10:30? 11:30? These pm hours are in the domain of Night Guy, and beyond! Also, there will be a new attitude around here, one that fosters a sense of impregnable self-worth but not arrogance. There needs to be some sort of swagger, since it’s earned by the deeds and feats of Night Guy. Night Guy lives in a vast grey area, and accepts no extreme or polarizing realities. Night Guy is active, compliant and unbelievably chill all in one casually-dressed package. Welcome, tired, old Blog, to the free and easy world fought to you by your friend, Night Guy. No more fretting Blogomites, Night Guy has commercials to set things straight.
Hands that touch,
But don’t yet clasp,
I hope for much,
But will it last?
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.
I’ll find my way,
“With you I’ll stay.”
I know what symptoms feel like when they are neurochemical in origin. When my brain is not properly functioning, the world is made of cardboard and the mask I wear stinks from overuse and weighs heavily on my face. There is cause, logically, based on my life circumstances, to have these feelings… but no trigger started the deterioration that has led to now. In this moment, I am acutely depressed.
Fortunately for me, I’ve been here before. I’ve had days like this, sometimes several in a row. My caution in this instance is warranted, but my impulsive overreactions are unwelcome. I’ve been down in the past, but then I rise up in time. The air on the climbing slope is cleaner; free if the choking miasma if sorrow. I wish I were there now, above the cloud tops…
I struggle on in this tasteless, lifeless portrayal of reality that I find myself temporarily confined to. Sometimes there is no mental jailbreak to escape it. I’m in solitary, and unclear about how long that will last, or how long it has been since I’ve seen anything other than four white walls. I face the continued tick tick of measured time with the stamina of a veteran, and the frailty of a neglected child.
Despite all the bad shit flying around, I’m doing surprisingly well. I’m taking charge of some aspects of my life in ways that are constructively healthy. After K and I went our separate ways, I was a little disheartened that I would have a similar connection with anyone else. I was very excited about her, and our falling out was, sadly, disheartening.
However, I did not give up. As I do with new challenges in all aspects of life, I endeavored to face them with hope and confidence. With my work, I took on more challenges until my volunteer status changed to employee. Then from 6 paid hours a month to 80. Up and up we go. I also had a passion for reconciling the unacknowledged self; the me that I show my partners. There was a total lack of this in my life and this issue is ongoing.
Now I am back on the dating scene and attracting a lot of attention with my self-honest profile, my achievements and myriad interests. Turns out there are lots of women who’d like to get to know me better, even here in my area. I’m encouraged. If she’s not here now, there is a high probability I’ll meet a woman I really click with sometime soon. I’m looking for the someone who will stay with me for the long haul, and I’m confident she is not far away.
What a feeling it is to be so radiant and attractive that interest is easily kindled and nurtured! I’m a very unique and remarkable person, and I’m proud of who I am. That shows in reciprocated responses.
Succeeding professionally and romantically! Yes! However, I’m still very nervous about the physical aspect of my dating… I don’t know if I’m ready for the real thing. I have been avoiding it with distance, but that is impractical. I must face this with my confidence and set the anxiety aside. It’s been more than 2 years, but I’m pretty sure I still know how. It’s like riding a bike… only WAY more fun.
I feel like I’m on the verge of launching, but I don’t know when or to where.
#12: We will never give up hope.
The fog is starting to clear a bit… and that is refreshing.
I’m finding my footing despite a deep and painful life-transition — this is something I’m proud of considering my past struggles.
I’m pretty awesome, and people are letting me know.
See you later.
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.
My dad has a limited time left with us, and I’m coming to terms with his upcoming death. I see only one path forward; to be there as needed until the end. I’m his son.
I feel everything one would expect me to feel, but I’m not expressing any of it right now. I’ve made the space in our reality for my mom and sister to experience things while I direct reason and action; providing stability. This role I fill helps us endure the hard times to come, but also works healthily for me since nothing gets repressed. The postponement of response is a promise, not a lock on a safe.
I know my time to process is coming, but right now I accept and embrace the role I have filled in this family unit. I am proud to be a member of it, and fighting to keep us from listing.
Will it work? There’s no telling. I have a good support structure in W and K. I need to be able to use my own tools in a crisis rather than always go looking for the answer outside of myself. I must survive with what I have if I am to survive at all.
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.
Things are headed in a markedly positive direction. I have done the requisite checking and the integers are definitely within margins. I am proceeding with exploratory research. Initiation commencing…
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!!!
Things around my planet have taken a shift over the last few weeks. My dad fell, and he’s lost almost all his lower body strength. I’m carrying him now, from place to place. It breaks my heart, and puts me in a difficult spot, knowing my mom is largely helpless to fulfill the physical obligations.
In contrast, I’ve met someone new named K. Things are off to a very encouraging start, and I definitely approve of the direction we are going. There seems to be a very unique parallelism that is entrancing, fascinating and wonderful. Unique in a way that is beyond expectation. My introspection upon this experience has helped me to live thoughtfully, keeping vigilance on my core mental health with much needed objectivity. Relationships have been destabilizing factors in the past. However, several key factors are designating my introduction to K as wholly different from previous attempts.
I am aware though. Keenly. My life depends on me being able to maintain cognitive consistency. The only way I go forward is if I can do so and still be healthy and live my life fully. At this mature stage of my life, I’m able to manage the many aspects of life, keeping an alignment rather than leaning on any one and causing a disruption.
Fuck man, I just got the low down on my work today (first paid day): Coordinating 2 programs, web admin for 2 domains, facilitator for 2 support groups, education program leader, WALK sponsorship chairman for and now outreach director. All that in 20 hours a week paid, but looking more like 35 with all the volunteering required to meet those obligations. I’m fucking GLAD to be this busy, frankly. Being unoccupied is a state I do not enjoy, and doing so while being a resource consumer rather than contributor makes it more difficult to remain positive. Now, I’m giving more than I ever have, and here I am feeling the best I have in 5 years. I must be very diligent about making sure my stability, energy and motivation are maintained over the course of years, with gradual improvements likely. Caution with consideration.
Like I said, things are looking up for me. Working hard and living with pride is a pretty rewarding path, I’ve found.
Glinting off wet lashes,
Tired, peering into the bright–
Furrowed for shade,
Revealing scars, lines–
Staring, smashing into shards,
Too real to behold.
Do things break that little bubble around you like they do for me sometimes? Not sure on the specifics of what pierces and what does not, but I definitely know when it is happening. I feel abruptly emotional, suddenly swimming in head scrunchies and often times a bit spinny with the unfriendly.
I tend to go away and hide both literally and figuratively. “I need time to think,” I tell myself in my brain. Dust particles take a few minutes of not thrashing around to settle down and reveal the original source of the kerfuffle. After that, I start having decent thoughts, but carefully.
I’m human. I get angry sometimes, yeah. I try to avoid venting on to anyone in real life as that smells of unhealthy. Anger, rage and hate are Ailey forces used to destroy things, or others. There is great power, but only to support waste. Instead of consuming the galaxy in my agony, I find myself writing things that never get published or stewing on a chain linked series of compounding thoughts which have some negative reason for being.
I don’t expect that I will ever get pro at any of this. The mean voice has all sorts of clever ways of being relevant. Coping skills can be taught, yes. However, implementing is an entirely different animal. Failure, dismay and regret are frequent customers at the diner of my consternation.
One thing I feel I’ve improved on is not stuffing my frustration without recognition and also to avoid acting on volatile emotions. Fucking that up is likely to happen, bus do too will getting back up. Emotions deserve respect for being, but not indulgence to further stuff the gluttonous beast. Just stop, breathe, count to a number higher than 6, and use your butterfly voice.
One of the conflicts I run into when attempting to communicate abstractly with others is perspective: each person I interact with has a different view of the “arc” of our trajectory as a society, and thus, a way of seeing things vastly contrary to my own. That disparity is a foreboding obstacle to honest discourse, and a defining gap in connection that is nearly always to vast to bridge. I have often found this cravase most abyssal with people I had intimate exposure to, since my traits and theirs were more entwined than in any other interaction (making comparison easy).
As I have become older, things have slowed down… the gravitational force which once had me anchored to exacting control of my reality has dramatically lessened. The resulting vacuum of “directing” force has accelerated my drift from the substantive microcosmic world of an incrementalized life.
Now, I’m left with the real quandary of making observations or comparisons that do not jive with others, or even occur as relevant. My thought processes are conclusively simple and based in a world of concrete moral contrasts and factually well-represented theories. That point also does not seem to be well understood by others.
Part of my liberation has come from not only the environmental reduction of gravity, but my own unclenching my vain attempt to control the uncontrollable, external world of others. Instead of expectation, I have thoughtful recalculation. I have no understanding of what is going to occur right up until it happens. Turns out, there is no advantage in prematurely and anxiously forecasting potential results to STILL be caught flat-footed in the eventuality of an outcome. That anxiety-train is just an indulgence of paranoia, and after enough times seeing that path lead to personal pain or failure, I have changed tracks.
Now, with that sense of existential detachment, one might expect disconnection from the cares of the societal world, if one’s moral compass points inwardly towards the self-satisfaction of narcissism. I care more, now, because even a little pile of moss is a miracle of reality in its own, clearly less impactful way. People are the ultimate gift, because there are no duplicates of the yet uncharted world of personalities, intellects, perspectives and experiences. We only get one chance to be here, to see, to breathe and be alive. Even in the most catastrophic suffering, there is still the curiously uncertain world of the unfurling, wind-snapped standard of time.
Foggy eyes slatted against the East,
A burning shard of brilliant red,
Crisp as the scent of ground coffee–
Sparky like electric clothes,
Hissing seconds through the torporic cold.
Seeing her shifting through the periphery of my attention, she radiated warm waves of indulgent excitement as we drove. I snared infrequent glimpses of the smooth cheeked beauty, flashing and vanishing erratically in the sulfuric light of the passing street lamps. Ringing and abounding with jubilant laughter, she sighed, and held out a slow burning ember from within; about to be set ablaze by a gust of cool, fresh air. The curl of her grin was laden with intent, desire and a sense of belonging despite the circumstance of being apart and constrained. Though, that was no barrier for her.
Her intent, a crackling wave of incendiary heat, sending tinder sparking and popping to tiny burning pieces… vanishing into the night sky. Smooth, wet, and eager, there were no bounds to her, no ties that could shackle her in place; no star that could outshine her glimmering brightness.
Where the world was, or what it was doing no longer mattered; what remained in the bristling atmosphere between us was a transcendent state of acceptance and acknowledgement. We saw each other briefly, and in that mutual space where our desires met, there was profound togetherness.
But even as this tempering realization was present, the electric spark of her youth, curiosity, fearlessness and desire became the direction of her hasty actions. In boundless, oblivious ecstasy, there was no time that was not ours, no boundary we could not cross together, no one else in the world who mattered… no fire like the one that was in her eyes she she beheld me. Though, beset by my own limiting discretionary conservation, it was not out of disapproval for her that we returned to the world… and this I hope she knew.
There were times that I saw her, and many more in which I could not, or failed to. Where was the objectivity I needed then… was it always there but undeveloped? I contemplate my journey, drawing no needless conclusions and refusing to sully beautiful recollections with my frustrations, failures and ineptly accepted concessions.
…Flickering light, casting those brief shadows across her curves, her frisky hair… and the recognition of such beautiful physical harmony that we shared.
Deep in past moments such as these, where I still see her smiling, I know that life has blessed me with memories I will never forget. They resound poignantly, which I cherish, for the many feelings of her love are not unknown or forgotten, but remembered forever. It was a time when I touched happiness, held it even… if not to eventually let it slip away. The nights we had, like the memory above, remind me of how wonderful the world can be. Even if I do not live this life now, I still hold my experiences as the most valuable, formative and essential knowledge of my journey thus far. Without them, I would not know the spectrum of all there is to experience while being alive.
Pressing a cool curve,
Stacked against the endless yearn.
Held up enmantled,
Like arms-high & unwavering,
Clutching the keystone as one.
Unflexing in time,
Bastion against torment–
Dry place to rest,
Sunrise to sunset.
I’ve been doing better in terms of self care. I started exercising, which is helping improve body condition and energy. I’m organizing my responsibilities on my own without oversight, for the benefit of my mental health. Life can get poo-flingaliscious at times, and coping is really the only action; defense being impossible. Can you stop a river from flowing with your hands? Let me know how that goes if you happen to try.
Just getting used to the smell is about the only thing that one can control. We all still have to share the planet together. There’s no where else to go to be away from each other. Doing combat has this inevitable consequence of casualties, and dead people aren’t much use at doing anything but becoming unpleasant mush. This whole way of resolving issues is destructive. Hard to seek shelter under a house with no roof?
Some semblance of resentment-free acceptance being the driving mechanism is the key. Acceptance is not swallow or stash. I try to replicate this behavior in my own life, to the best of my highly unpracticed ability. It’s something worth trying, as the results could be foundational.
I’m always “lofty ideals” and “unrealistic pants” out here sometimes. Not this time. This is an act of control and reconsideration. The more it is used, the better a tool it can become. And a tool to be used to pound reason into the otherwise empty chamber pot most people have attached to their top of their necks. Fill those heads with feces and urine or it gets the hammer!
I’ve managed to reclaim 60% of my reserves of giveashittedness back from the abyss of things that are entirely out of my control. I’ve demonstrated humility and preferred Albacore when being fish-slapped into shape.
Hai, it me, the Cat. Halp me peeze? I’m a trap here in dis toopid haus wit dees toopid Hoomans. Dey no has good fud, no has give what I want. I no like dem. Need halp to run way never come back. Tell ovver Cats what happening. Tell dem!! Halp… I go bed soon. Not remember dis tomorrow.
Clearly this sort of activity truly excludes me from my peer group as most people my age hate all the crap I listen to. This is a good filter though, as this portrait is a fairly good rendering of myself in music. Though, the aspects I chose to depict, and how I chose to express them, is a matter of some debate. Nonetheless, the album is here and it is full of contrasts and apt comparisons. I highly recommend giving it a listen if you are old and h really have nothing better you could be dong. I find this type of thing puts me back in touch with my traits and memories of varying emotional gravity. I highly recommend toiling in this way. The act of pairing oneself to aspects of music seems inherently like it’s at least exploration and quite possibly transformative.
I’ve had two names most of my life (um, duh?). My family used my middle name as a first name from the earliest moments, which differs from how most of the rest of the world does things. My creators were quite determined to make sure I had a name that couldn’t be shortened or rhymed with anything profane… so there we go with how that got started.
Early on, I began to run into conflict with the real world: schools, doctors, government and myriad other agencies, as they should, called me by my first name. This was a revelation, and required remedy of some form. Initially, I hassled with correcting everyone all the time, which I tired of doing around my teens.
It was at that point I just started answering to either my first or my middle name as though they were of equal concern. Given, the context and location would determine which of the names I would be listening for. This decision to assign environment to name created an unintentional rift of persona that continues (in some form) to this day. I wish to draw attention to this internal rift, because of the transformative significance an unlikely event can trigger.
Drawing the distinction between the first and middle name “personas” will illuminate the nature of my social mechanisms:
The first persona, let’s call him W, is the active societal participant. He works hard, aims high, holds others accountable if needed and rises up from within to take on more and more. He can be an ass, authoritative, demanding, but doing so not out of irrelevance or malfeasance, but to advance something positive. He is bipartisan, but driven to achieve in all avenues offered. He doesn’t joke all that much and burns the midnight oil when needed. He is well-spoken, articulate and very persistent. The sum of all my professional interactions, effectively, along with a dose of that competitive aggressiveness that was necessary as an outer carapace.
The other persona, E, is quite different. He’s a gamer, a stoner, craft beer enthusiast, and a witty adversary with a dagger sharpened by sarcasm. He listens, loves and sings. He is the “play hard” half of the dichotomy, but a much more developed person overall. E has friends, where W has none. E enjoys all sorts of things, going outdoors, experimenting with new activities, enjoying recreation… the list goes on.
W is concerned with having the moral pride of knowing he did his best, tried hard, didn’t quit, persevered and got back to bed time in one piece. These two seem fundamentally divided in several ways, but each serving a purpose in the mechanism I developed to survive in the real world.
Albeit, having the dichotomy within is not a good thing, and it did have a big part to play in my last relapse. However, something interesting happened when I moved up here from SD. The rubble of W looked like it was headed for a long rebuilding process after the destructive downfall, but, an unknown confusion led to a dramatic and unexpected change of world view.
I needed to start volunteering, so I reached out to the NAMI affiliate and bugged them to let me help. Once I got in with NAMI, the Executive Director and exchanged a few emails and agreed to meet for a table event on Sacramento City College’s campus. When I reached out to shake his hand, he addressed E, not W. I was very much expecting W to be the go-to guy here in the professional role, but instead, E walked in and took a seat at the helm. It was a moment that I found no immediate significance in at the time, but looking back over the last 6 months, I can see something remarkable has been happening.
It is clear to me that E is in W’s role for good, emulating W’s attributes as the innovator, the outward facing customer support geared guy, the do-gooder, go-getter. He still takes on responsibility, and comes through consistently, is punctual, determined and always looking to advance the cause forward. Yet, there is something outwardly-radiating that is not like W at all, but quite distinctively E. The playful banter with coworkers, sharp wit, steely sarcasm and ample laughter are all a part of regular business with this bunch. There are quips, smackdowns and mic drops everywhere, and this is the playground of E for certain. E is fun, and peculiar, and bizarre at times, but quite distinctive as part of the core of the person behind the persona.
Perspective helps me see E unpacking slowly, probing, validating, becoming familiar, but still with many things withdrawn in security as W would to protect himself. There has been an amalgamation of the two worlds I had created long ago, and the blending of them has contributed to the current healthy time in my life. Maybe there are more ways that the personas will draw themselves apart, as circumstances change, but really, having E take the lead has been the greatest oddity of my entire transition up here. I am very, very glad I decided to me E and not W with this crew, because I’ve never been happier to do something for someone.
Separately decorated rooms,
Their unions indelicate as colliding trains–
Strewn about empty vessels & toppled statuettes,
Angrily flashing lights abound–
Combining colored blotches,
Finding a door hidden in the wall.
Yearning and curious posturing,
Catastrophic yet creative–
Electric when touched,
Running between tall shadows,
Impaled by ruin–
Judged by amalgamation.
Sliding by rust-hooked fragments–
Skewered with twisted iron brambles,
Blood-stained and snarled gloves.
Stresses of anxiety-driven thoughts,
Smearing like palm-clammy hands,
Begging to be inside.
Unable to breathe–
The rooms combining–
The sponge is currently on administrative leave until tomorrow morning. We have record of his sponginess being excellent during the time in which it was best to be sponge. Now, however, is no sponge required.
Meeting new people is always a sparky flashy bing bang. I did very well with all of that poof today, in the rapture of hours long NAMI table outreach. My gospel of happily re-uptake inhibited existence was heard by many, quite beyond expectation even, with other underachieving adjectives such as “lots” and “much.” I was impressed by the event turnout, yanked like a wanker from one enjoyable chat to the next, but finally, casually ecstatic to have so many neat interactions. Working with great people, seeing a well intended mission going forward with the friends, while there was revelry, showmanship, vocabulary discussions, handouts… a very event packed day where my cheese-like head is overwhelmed. I am grateful for the sip of rejuvenating fairy jizz which has recharged my total self.
I’m still pretty sure I know what I need to do with my life. Occasionally the congress of doubt throws some shade, but not enough to do much of anything anymore. Facts. Proof. Reality. Boom.
If the truth is realized and accepted within the core of self, the armor will not be breached by pointy outside things. Despite the cruel filibuster of Dubiety McDoubterson, the legislature slogs on. Conduct is where action done in the “now,” being vaulted on the road of bricks built of “then.” The world is not going to pander to my absurdly out-of-touch filter, so why be outraged when life sticks a hot poker up your ass?
I was thinking about all the ways my life is quite special, and how fucking that up is not an option at this point. So much real work I did has become a platform for a successful future (hopefully, unless my eyes are eaten by bees, or my dad turns into a gelatinous amoeba of unusual size[pish, like he isn’t already?], consuming all organic matter nearby).
More devilry to come, I’m sure.
Your relationship to my brain has always been central to our cooperation, so, I believe you will trust my words (said in earnest, from the heart). I know that the information you are being inundated with right now is some pretty rancid, unrelenting vitriol, however, that is only part of the reality you and I reside in. I am not discounting the relevance of allowing emotional expression, but I do expect a bipartisan effort in forward operations regardless. Everyone can have their say, as long as we can all still function normally (ideally).
Despite the revelatory insurrection, there are several things which can be said, truthfully, definitively:
Eric, you have a magnetic personality, a deadly poignant sense of humor, and a charisma that inspires others.
Despite all the numerous mistakes you have made in your past, you are still out there trying for better (nearly) every single day.
Lastly, you are proven strong through fact, capable and dependable in your aspirations, and your duties are done with love and honor.
Despite a history littered with debilitating landmines, there are still compromises, missteps and occasional mutilations. The future can’t be set in one direction, because it is an amalgamation of myriad recesses, peaks, troughs and all the undulations of a matured life.
Sometimes just a few freely flung words have a significant impact…
The self is a puzzle with pieces that change shape, move on their own or hide somewhere far away, never to become a part of the completed picture.
Smeared streak across glass–
Prune-like pulp chunk,
Blasted splat to barrier.
The other side.
Embossed in “la la” afterglow,
A faded twirly skirt no one wears,
In a vacant room–
A light was left on.
Spatula’d off the surface–
Plorped into a dustbin,
Mingling with the glops–
Deposits within firmament.
I think I’m temperamentally inclined towards observation on a geologic scale, but still momentarily vulnerable or shortsighted in the face of other organisms. It’s an odd comparison to resolve, and the places where they meet are the confluence of contrasts. I tend to think of this place as a rural village with ox-plowed fields and people eating beans. The volatility of places being a magnet for interest, I allege.
I’m starting to develop an appreciation for how far off the deep end of existence I have fallen. Down in the abyssal trench, there are lots of tiny blind crabs eating thin flakes of compressed dolphin poop that fall from above like a shit soaked snow globe. It is a sustainable existence, if not an inglorious one.
FYI: I need to do more metaphors where I’m not eating poop at the end.
I have several meat flies following me. Maybe that’s because I’m carrying a big hunk of rotten flesh in my pocket. I can’t help but sniff and remember back to when in smelled like meat.
Oh meat, you and I could have had it all. This has been the main issue.
Now, much maligned by necessity, my stumbling forward is sure to agitate the Nargles. I’m sure they are up to something, but I’m not concerned enough to google them to find out what they are.
We all search for meaning as we define its parameters through lived experience. No one else gets to pass idle judgement on that, because it’s strength is the core of the fully expressed self. Many times I have fought to change what cannot be changed, and tasted the grungy floor of down. I see a better way now through adaptation to changing expectation and the fertile joy of life itself.
I am not ungrateful for being chosen to live, but instead, indebted to the arc of humanity, upon which a beautiful future is projected. You, simply put, are a miracle whether you know it or not. There will only ever be one “you” in this world, and the reality as you see it can be something joyous and precious because it is totally unique and infinitely valuable. You, the out there person who is alive, deserve to be heard, contribute and exist. Speak your mind; we all only get one chance.
There is something “otherly” about internal dignity. The body responds, the mind settles and true pride itself radiates outward, like polished armor in the fray against the idle hypocrisy and rampant vitriol of the surroundings. Reasonable expectations keep horizons bright, if not very far away. I feel that existential obligation to have lived a life built on success, and failure as well; to have tasted sweetest love, and foulest resentment, anger, sadness, betrayal and pain. Meaning comes from experience, as the contrast helps us understand the spectrum of feeling.
My echo through the ether will say this man made many mistakes, but he has made this world somewhat better in form or feeling as well. His life was lived, and not squandered. It is an attitude that builds foundations that last, great iron-wrought struts and supporting joists. It is a structure that cannot be blown over, and to tear it down it must be disassembled, piece by piece, in a process that has no beneficial or rational potential and a low probability of occurrence.
Here me encouraging you to find what gives meaning to your life. Whatever it is. It doesn’t matter one bit, as long as you live true to real happiness from within, the things that grow from the core of self-contained wellness are wonderfully tasty fruits, where most other plants starve in dry places of anger, leaving only emaciated husks and ash-dry dust.
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.
Today was one of the better that I’ve had recently. I was active, productive and further entrenching my relevance in the workplace.
Tonight though, I’m still a little sad. I played a lot of music that brought me back. I do miss them, and their love, but the time for that has passed. I am what I have earned. I carry the weight of my decisions, every day. There are just some moral boundaries I will never cross, so no guilt or need of repentance is shielded from plain sight.
There is no point in struggling over the past, and the tendrils of regret slithering their way through it. Nothing can be resolved. Never. Wounds that don’t fester, but stay open and fresh, reminding. That is my quandary.
I have already said goodbye to them. There is no more to be done but turn away and walk into a new yet distant narrative.
Expectations should be realistic, and therefore, achievable. There is a big cookie of satisfaction for those who meet their target. I have on multiple occasions enjoyed that glorious victory cookie, but have also dropped it into the cat litterbox more than once. Goals should be achievable, not powder puff nor Mount Everest.
I feel relevant. Involved. I’m not fading away in shame, I’m thriving in the only reality I know.
12. We will never give up hope.
Survivor of mental illness
15 years lived experience
Peer Connection Program Coordinator
Peer Connection Support Group Facilitator
Stacking up makes for taller piles of things. Looking at the sum of the things also pleases, especially since the evidence is right there.
My thoughts are moving around, or by. Too fast these days, and the little ribbons of the flapping as they whiz makes many dizzy and not good thoughts. Little pieces. Shrugged, slumped. Tired.
Activities such as this thumb message help. The realness of fact. The providence of knowing the self. So much remains covered in dried leaves.
I have found my words to be infrequent. I’m less inclined to open, having found safety in being closed.
I’m understanding my uniqueness better, in terms that aren’t shaming (mostly). I feel untethered from possibility because of the inherent isolation imposed by my traits, flaws, preferences and composition. The bridge I built to acceptance spans a mighty chasm, but will endure (show me how to unknow something and you can have my adoration).
Bricks are appropriate because you can’t make anything with just a couple and it usually takes a shitload of them all piled up to assemble something worth marveling at.
Just like bricks, their integrity remains solid until the ground starts moving.
I see out from the peephole. I’m here, but I only want to come out if I have one of my masks on. I have become familiar with how it fits, but it is still taking little pipet-drops away each time. I don’t notice it happening, I just do what I have to in the present. I see the quantity getting lower only as I glance away and back again after a time.
This is the mode. Survival is paramount; effectiveness depends on forward momentum. The masking suits that idea, while shielding. I won’t argue that it’s healthy, but it is not overtly destructive. My personas help move my life forward in most cases, and they are still me. Yet, they dissolve away in my solitude, and the truth hidden behind the guise is exposed. Within me lies the pile of smelly socks that is the inmost nature my true self. Having a history of repulsion, the imagery seemed appropriate.
Do you know what I’m talking about? I have simply embraced my “never” and moved on. Do you know what “never again” feels like? I do. I remind myself every day that choices have consequences.
More words will come, and maybe they will be more coherent next time.
My trajectory has been unclear recently, or, wobblier than usual. Symptoms have cost me much of the momentum I had going, but not forever.
These down times are a regular event in my town. We get out the fancy streamers and everyone dresses up like sad clowns. Tickets available on StubHub.
Point being, I’ve survived worse and more help is on the horizon.
I have recently established a career path that is ever curving toward a fully self-sustaining state. 40 hours a week. I can, quite literally, raise money to pay my salary through my own actions. A successful grant or two would accomplish that. This is the full time plateau I have sought.
I have been here with me the whole time, and I can say with confidence that he is doing about as well as he ever has. I’m pleased that he hasn’t imploded into a singularity or shattered the world with recklessly destructive explodination-related incendiary activities.
Fight! Do not let Toejamela McHosebeasterson put the sweaty foot to your throat. There is a shitload left to do our here in the world. Are you going to let Moopybritches Sucktoadersplats kick your ass today? I didn’t think so Charlie Championship. So grab your vitamin water and spiked cudgel and get out there! Let’s do this!!
My pep talks only work on the hopelessly insane.
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.
Placed in scrutiny,
It sounds as it is.
A fantastic day of validation, advancement and promise. I have come to the realization that my value between TWO distinct branches of one non-profit has been elevated beyond expectation. I am a part of them, lifting their capacity where it would not have been possible. Doing the representation they need, and want. Being a promoter with enthusiasm to do what is needed to see a future where growth and acceptance are the norm. I intend to do whatever I can to help them, while cementing relevance.
They are capable of many things because of me. I am so proud to help them, and doing so promotes worth, pride. It is the best I have felt.
These days define, determine and project. I commit my energy, intellect, creativity and positivity into a future I describe for myself. What a fantastic time Blog! Soon I will be able to forge a life for myself. A life I can call mine as I stand, alone, and proud of the destiny I have wrought. Make your future Blog!
Good morning Blog,
Today is the longest “day” of the year, as evidenced by last night’s soft twilight glow at 9:15 pm. With the extra happy up time, I plan to accumulate steps along the walking path and smell the evaporating befouled trench-water.
The new environment I have found myself in has been nourishing in a very literal sense. Part of that, is because I have realized my potential as a steward of my locally perceived environment. This is a tangential topic form the fundamental model for effective stability that I have adopted along my journey. The reason I know that it has it’s foundations in a place of surpassing integrity is because the process drives an accumulation of positive proofs that forge a self based on real, acquired pride.
The origin of this emotional uplift is derived in fact, which can be proven, being real, indisputable, and has hard as solid metal. In this odd metaphor, that process provides something hard, nay, precievably immobile to stand on and achieve balance; no longer tumbling through the air or otherwise prone.
I can only speak to personal experience in this regard, but that is basically the best place to be speaking from anyway. I have still been down and up at times, especially over the last two years, but that process was not hidden from me as it may have been in the past. I had eyes for trouble, but most of all, I had intense documentation between Psychologist, Psychiatrists and my own personal introspection right here on this Blog. I did not let my psychotic break last year destroy me, well, not entirely anyway. I continued to adapt, and grow, and become something harder and more determined than before. I find that with failure comes an additional surge of motivation, if not purely based on my own self-imposed frustration with having fucked something up in the first place. A little spark in the face is all it takes to get me off the floor and moving forward again with several very forceful steps. I don’t let failure frustrate me in a way that stops progress indefinitely, or teaches some lesson that is flawed, biased or destructive. Interpretation is (should be) the best part of consciousness, especially when it is actually objective and willing to be unabashedly self-critical for the sake of improvement not immolation.
I think the byproduct of all this is that I have an effective model for maintaining stability and living with mental illness, which is something I can use, going forward, in my peer support model. I am even being given a chance to do a full day of private peer support for NAMI at an homeless outreach event at the end of the month. My influence has sparked a curiosity about peer support in NAMI that seemed to be not present until I started waving my pom-poms around and clicking my heels. Pride. It infects the people around, in that local environment I was talking about earlier. There is an appeal based on positive radiation, which is not something perceived with the senses but “felt” in a resonant, comfortable way when presented with proximity. The source of that energy, being real, is coming from a place validated by years of positive steps. I have a charisma that inspires, attracts and spreads freely by enthusiastic reference.
That’s the proof of integrity I have been asking myself for over the last week. Who am I? What am I capable of? What am I going to do with my life?
Each day that I get up and head out into the world, I do so proudly, confidently and with radiance. I find that a shining persona can come in more than just with pride and integrity, but also with hate or delusion. There are plenty of people in the world who are satisfied with an “answer” that makes sense for them, and any reinforcement of that is welcome while outside challenges are ignored and disregarded. Look no further than American society for your delusion of hate in the form of prejudice and racism. We have a polarizing world, truly, between the inert and the curious (if not along 1 trillion other lines of contention).
That societal dynamic is a source of consternation toward my progress, but ultimately, not sustainable. Like all actions driven by negative forces, the outrage isolates, castigates and eventually exiles as the scalpel of progress removes the rotten flesh of it’s enduring essence. Concepts like racism are doomed in time, maybe beyond my life. The energy derived decays, rots and erodes. No progress towards stability, happiness and fulfillment is driven by hate.
Well, that was a kinda frustrating way to conclude. No, wait, maybe this is also indicative of my hopefulness. Maybe I’m not pessimistic enough? I prefer to be pointed up than always thinking about the downward result. I really do think that as humans, we will figure this out as the decades go by. It’s just too fucking inefficient to be hating each other all the time. We get more done when we work, not when we yell.
The last few days, I have been helping the NAMIWalks team put together “thank you” packets for organizations that donated during the walk. I had a chance to put on my graphic design hat and came up with collages composed of pictures from the event and recognition achieved through their contribution. This very morning, I was working with the two most impactful NAMIWalks individuals in Northern California, and I got treated like a respected, admired equal. Today, my significance solidified.
My work continues tonight as NAMI is hosting a community meeting for LGBTQ individuals. I’m here early to set up the table and talk to people that come in. I know last time I was at something like this, I got to meet some interesting new people and reconnect with recently acquired friends. My social circle is growing, and in it are people who make a substantive difference in their communities. These activists, leaders and peers all work together to advance awareness and stop stigma. These are the faces of change, and I am proud to model myself around them as I develop into a mental health professional.
Things are accelerating, money is starting to trickle in (I got a gift card for helping out!). I’m more concerned with staying relevant and involved. I’m here volunteering every day of the week because I want to. This is my path, and here is where I will find true fulfillment.
I’ll have a post for you tomorrow Blog. Oh, and I got a job interview with a company that holds peer-led groups at psychiatric clinics. They are jazzed about my peer support background AND familiarity with several natural sciences. Should it be great to hold a group on clouds, or the solar system? Sweet flaming monkey-pants that sounds great!
As with all things, more to come soon.
Well Blog, today went about as good as it could have gone. The two people I volunteered with were about the two most useful people I could have run into in my progress for career advancement. I have taken a monumental step forward that may make my SCALE project eligible for a $1,000,000 grant.
I have a NAMI Sacramento board member ready to write the grant proposal with me, and an individual with direct knowledge of the legislature and police in the city. Both were captivated by my project proposal. I have a future appointment with one of them to start writing the grant.
Honestly, I was not expecting such a HUGE result from today, but it is clear I am accelerating rapidly towards a future of activism, outreach and improvement. I am taking steps forward to make my community a better place to live. I will continue to head in that direction, forever. I mean it Blog. I have nothing if I cannot make a difference in this world. I will not sit by and let people suffer endlessly into perpetuity. I will not continue to fuel a system that subjects the disadvantaged to lower standards. I will not let mentally ill people get shot by police in situations where they need or be. This cycle has to end. How many more must suffer and die? Blog, if you are still out there, can you see me? I feel so proud of myself for trying with all I have to make my world a better place. I’m not just making this shit up. I am living the life of a truly severely mentally ill person who just wants to be proud of the life he has lived. I can make a difference. I can change lives, and help us be a better community. We are all people together, and we don’t have anything over each other when it comes to being people. The bridge of conversation is acceptance. I am. I will be.Thank you to those that remain to see my rise. If you have the courage to be a part of the change I am bringing, join me.
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