Concealed

Ghost-fingers cold–

That spine-shuddering touch,

Eyes scream out in unknowing fear.

Emptied of dreams; memories–

They fall into a dark chasm,

Forsaken, purged by lightning,

Agony–

Again! Again!

Those hopes in trust–

Smeared into opaque nothingness,

Irrelevantly hoping–

Still met by a stranger,

Bereft of words,

Emotions swirling downstream.

Cast into the crucible of torment–

Straining against the surges that come.

Once proud foundations–

Crumbling decay into rot,

Detritus swept away by an outgoing tide.

Chuggy McChuggerson

Score: 3

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.

Brick-Related Nonesene

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.

Less-Spikey

My emotional regulation has been “askew” as it were, but also quite volatile. I imagine my emotional planet during the Late Heavy Bombardment, with a surface slowly succumbing to a primordial molten state… I’d rather not reach that point, which is a lifeless one to say the least.

Being alive is being in the real, the now, and present in the moment of existence in which we find ourselves. When I’m experiencing symptoms, reality is often filtered through a kaleidoscope of nonsensical responses, urges, reactions, thoughts and core feelings in clear defiance of logic or common sense based coherence. There is some part of me that is going, “hey, wait a second… that sounds pretty fucked up.” That’s the logic guy, he hasn’t been corrupted yet because he is strong. That part of me is the last bastion before the deep, black chasm of forgetting.

I don’t feel under siege just yet, but the armies of darkness are out there, inching closer.

Enough of that. The truth is, there will always be a part of me that will strain, because it goes on unacknowledged. I’d say that only 1 person in my whole life even has a good understanding of my personality and not run away screaming. Others have tried, and they were repelled, tortured, and damaged in their attempts to disarm or simply survive my radioactive properties. Sadly, being Bipolar and never truly having any handle on it created the inevitable trail of bodies in my wake as I shambled recklessly along the path of life. The guilt hangs on me like a heavy sack of feed that the animals of depression plunder as I toil forward. I have managed to become strong enough to not be constantly crushed by that load, and still make something positive of my life.

I work so hard being proud of who I am, but no one sees me. I have come to a place in my life where I am okay with not being “seen.” I know what it feels like, for the brief glimmers and shining moments in my adolescence I captured lightning in my hands. I know what I felt, the power and majesty of love, and no one can take it from me. If I go on in my reality without ever having that again, I am okay with that. I will not die in ignorance of happiness.

Looking up. I know who I am. Things are hard now, but I’m doing good holding my pants on without my belt. My recent plateau of stability is eroding…

Action Distraction

Today has been difficult so far, but this afternoon’s booth duty should help that. I’m at the 24th St. bypass today at the Kumbaya Festival and I know that will keep me occupied. The festival lasts until 7 pm so I should be good and tired. I’m hearing a lot of music now, all the time today unless I am focusing on something else. Idle times bring the strings and beats of emotionally charged melodies. Lyrics marked as impactful slide next to amplified connectivity to memories, moments, good and bad. It sends me reeling at times, contrasted with a crushing weight of sadness that flattens me between hard metal plates. The defenses and constant optimistic spin has a cost, and the energy has been diminished over the last few months.

Salvation will be in the strength of will I contain in my desire to not collapse or crumble. I have taken action to remedy my neurochemical status but still have a good deal of time to go. My hope is to continue to prevail against the symptoms, the deep gravity of the abyss strengthening. There are so many things I feel pain over, for the things I have done to myself and others… there are many moments I wish had not been, but were nonetheless. Making sense of that pain has been my lesson, and it never stops hurting no matter how I cope with it. I can have benefit, but still know the ache of the sorrow. It reminds me of why I step forward.

I have no desire to fall apart, only to endure this challenge and emerge stronger. I used to quit on things, and myself, but now I know I won’t. It will be hard, yes, unavoidably so. So are all things that are truly worth having.

Blurb

Tonight’s town hall had some ridiculously good moments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goodnight.