disclaimer

this is not an inspirational blog.  this is not a topic-specific blog.  more than anything, this is more of a journal than a “blog”.  if that doesn’t interest you, then stop reading.

however, if you are here to read about my adventures moving from the deep south up to Minnesota, follow the “Minnesota Maddness” category.

meanwhile, the prime topic in this blog will probably be about my Depression and Addictions, as they tend to consume my entire life.  other topics may include writing, books, video games, canoeing, sports, television shows, writing, and other adventures.

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WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE

WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE!!
> THANKS FOR CHECKING IN.

SO YOU THINK WE SHOULD SLICE OUR ARMS AND BLEED, JUST TO PROVE WE ARE ALIVE?
> okay.

SO WE SHOULD SLIT OUR NECK ACROSS ITSELF TO SHOW OUR OWN STRENGTH AND DETERMINATION?
> sounds great.

OR MAYBE I CAN JUST JUMP INTO TRAFFIC, DRIVE INTO THE ONCOMING, OR SHOOT OURSELVES OFF THE CLIFF.
>  perfect plan.

_____________________________________________

did you disagree?  because I didn’t?

I suspect tomorrow will be fine.

but I’m seriously running out of “bad days” that don’t get logged as “last days”.

____________________________________________

SEE ALSO:

the Final Day is ideal,

desiresd,

perfect,

heavenly,

HOPE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

please allow it to come soon … or even better ASAP…..

blub blub…

I have 64 words for NaNo so far.  and that’s all just from editing and adding words to older work.  none of it is totally fresh content.  because I have no fresh content in my brain.  I can’t think.  I’m too tired all the time.  I either have something else scheduled at the time, or I don’t have something else scheduled and therein opt to just sleep.

I almost made it to kickboxing this morning.  I got dressed and packed up.  I was fighting off a breakdown the whole time.  then, when it was time to put on shoes and go out the door, I just cracked.  I started bawling.  by the time I gathered myself enough to leave, it was too late and would cause me to be truant.  so I cried all over again.  then Brian eventually coerced me into going to the apartment’s gym and just walking on the treadmill at a stroll for 15 minutes.  and then I tucked my tail between my legs as I shuffled back to the apartment, defeated.  he congratulated and said he was proud of me.  he reiterated that “something is better than nothing”.  but all I could think of is how “a lot is more than something”.

I was legit tardy to work yesterday.  I couldn’t wake up; I couldn’t function.  I was so fatigued, it was beyond words.  and it’s not like I stayed up late on Sunday or anything.  maybe it was the time change Sunday morning.  maybe it’s just my body shutting down.  but it caused me to be late to a point of disciplinary action.  I mean, it’s just earning points towards a larger avoidable balance (think golf).  but hey, any points is more than no points.  and I got some points for being truant yesterday.  ugh.

I’m really falling apart.  I don’t know how to keep above water, much less start actually swimming again.

success…?

I’ve managed to go to work every day this week.  I haven’t gone to the gym at all, granted.  but I went to work.  and I actually got some work done.  not much; not as much as I’d like or as I should have — but some.

I haven’t cut.  I haven’t had a night of drinking myself into oblivion.  I’ve stopped eating, for a large part; but I’m not binging.

it’s snowing sideways here.  the weather has much more energy than I.  I took the elevator to go up one floor.

I’m not doing well.

I meet with my therapist tomorrow.  maybe she can help me figure some of it out.

NaNoWriMo 2017

I’m gonna try again.  I’m gonna pass my hand at NaNoWriMo.  I attempted in 2007-2009, finally succeeding in 2010.  then I would try lackadaisically on and off for the next few years.  now, it’s 2017, and I need to put some words out.

my plan is to pick back up an old piece on which I was working.  it’s a comedic fantasy piece that has no real plot destination, lol.  however, that’s great for just writing and generating words with no care of the content or its value.

I’m really excited, and I just hope I can do it.

for those who don’t know, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is a national challenge every November to write a 50,000-word novella.  my goal, however, will be 60,000.  that means 2,000 words a day; that also gives me some wiggle room for ensuring I complete 50k.

I’ll try to keep y’all updating as to my status.

if anyone is interested in reading the ridiculousness, just let me know.  🙂

running out of Spoons

I have no Spoons.  I’m exhausted, and I have no interest in anything.

just three or so days ago, I was elated with how awesome my life was turning out.  things were really on the upswing.

and now, I’m back down at the bottom, barely able to stay above water.

I guess that’s bipolar for ya.  rapid cycling is a bitch.  not only are the ups and downs are in and of themselves, but they are fucking exhausting just as they are.  you don’t need to throw in the depression and apathy or the risky behaviour and police collisions.  just the up and down alone is enough to cause a person to fall flat on the floor and never move again.

I can’t do this Adult thing.  I’m running out of Spoons to even do this Human thing.  I really want to just curl up on the floor in a sunspot and take a nap.

my eating disorder is getting loud again.  I’m skipping meals more often, and I’m pigging out more often too.  I don’t know how best to approach the whole thing at this point.  I really think I’m going to go back to making sandwiches and keeping my life simple for a while.  I don’t have the Spoons to spare to worry about something be paleo or high in carbs or having too much sugar.  I just don’t.

a non-typical post about Panic Attacks

so first, let’s understand a typical panic attack:

“a sudden feeling of acute and disabling anxiety.”  that’s the general definition.  when people think of “panic attacks”, they see Monk freaking out.  how cute, right?

but real panic attacks are more than just that.

and then there are the atypical panic attacks.  the ones that happen in the mind and never manifest outside the body.  I just had one.  I was sitting here, trying to coordinate my route and plans at home.  and inside my Mind, I lost my damn Shit.  externally, no one would have seen anything; I seemed fine.  I was in control of all my motors, and I wasn’t babbling some incoherent shit.  but inside of my head, LIGHTS WERE GOING OFF THAT SET OFF ADDITIONAL ALARMS AND EVERYTHING WAS SHUTTING DOWN AND I CAN’T DO THIS!!

and then, after several minutes, it stopped.  and now …. now that I am ready to write about it, I can’t.  so there goes that fucking useful as shit entry…….

distracted from the Darkness

I have been having something scheduled for almost everyday.  back to my old “keep busy to distract the Mind” trick.  because when I’m not doing something, when I don’t have music or work or people to distract me, my thoughts get Dark again.  “I wonder what would happen if I drove into oncoming traffic.”  “I wonder how long of a fall it is off that bridge.”  “I wonder it would feel like to have my wrists slit open.”  Dark, dangerous thoughts.

thoughts I will not act on, granted.  at least, not while properly medicated.  and this is why I take my medication.  this is why I have such a cocktail that I must take — to keep from obeying the Dark thoughts.

because life is generally pointless.  I’m an American, and I’m watching my country fall apart at the hands of a bigoted piece of shit.  who, mind you, is also trying to start a war with another country.  hurricanes and earthquakes are destroying this continent.  and that’s just the fun stuff on a large scale.

everyday, people are hurting others.  sure, there’s a lot of good stuff and “pay it forwards” that happen too, and these just don’t show up in the stories as often.  I understand that; I took journalism classes.  however, I can’t handle the input of only negative shit every day.

and then there’s the Darkness in my mind, a force that somehow prevents me from experiencing joy sometimes.  a power that mutates comments into insults and gazes into glares.  a force that has me totally retracting from my partner for fear of worsening his life.

yeah, that’s the third level.  the personal level.  I can’t recall what exactly set it off, or if it was a single thing at all.  but I’ve started pushing Brian away some.  I don’t really know what to say on this matter.  I just feel like trusting him make me weak, and I need to stand on my own some.  I’ve become a limp noodle.  I need to act as if there is no net beneath me.

I have no witty or insightful closing for this post.  I’m tired and hungry, and I can’t think.  so I’ll end just like this.