Current obsessions:
- Guitar - I'm not playing Guitarsmith as often, but I spend time on Youtube or practicing chords or beginner riffs. I feel like I'm doing something wrong if I don't practice enough. I think I'm afraid that if I lose focus I will lose interest and drop it like so many other things that once had allure. I know I have talent and I'm good at so many things in ways, yet I'm not great at anything. Like the saying "jack of all trades yet the master of none. I have the hope that maybe guitar/songwriting might be my one great talent and love that never leaves me. Not likey, but I will always be searching until I find it or my journey ends.
- Herbs, wild edibles, and natural remedies - Reading, practicing, gathering and researching wild edibles in my new books and on that there internets. Now I have an itch to walk at different locations in my area and look for and identify new plants for my knowledge. I love primitive skills, buchcraft, and woodscraft of all sorts.
- Survivalism/prepper/minimalism/self reliance and sustainability - No I don't think the world's apocalypse is going to occur on the year's winter solstice and our supposed galactic alignment. I'm not that crazy! It is going to fun to watch the real crazies at year's end though. I bought Jiffy Pop specially for the show. I love history and primitive, natural, and little remembered skills and technologies. I'm also a big science buff and when you delve into the ifs and and buts, you realise that there are many viable, practical, scientific scenarios that could create a short or long-term collapse of society. And like everything I do, I do it maniacally. I hope it never happens, but if I just turned a blind eye to this arrogant, decadent, jacked-in world, and didn't learn all that I can just in case, that just wouldn't be me. Storing extra food and water and medical supplies in case of a natural or man-made disaster or societal upheaval isn't really as extremist-ish as most normal rational folks would believe. I rotate my stored foods so they don't spoil. Plus we normally eat and enjoy everything I store, so basically we merely have a big pantry. Also I try to buy in bulk, not that much but extra, while I notice stuff on sale. And now if we run a little short before checks, we have tastier options that PB&J's and ramen. So don't be alarmed when I talk survival talk because I mean everything from weaving a basket for flowers to using that same weaving technique to make a fish weir. It is all to feed my hungry aggravating need for knowledge, romance with modern and ancient cultures and wisdom, and the security those things can help me bring to my loved ones if the need were to ever arise. But yes I understand that go a little deeper than normal at times. Like to camping by myself in 2 ft of snow and twenty degrees out to test my equipment.
- Son's football - This was the big part of my anxiety overload. I even was getting the chest pains and the deep sighs. An asst coach of a DIII collage e-mailed and asked for some info and implied that he was interested in my son. It is only a very informal first step, but it also means a lot at the same times. That took my brain to spazz-mode and I got online and researched this from every angle on how the process works, examples of how others normally responded, and on and on. My son doesn't help my stress level because he acted all nonchalant and off-handily joked that you treat it like a first date, so you have to let it simmer for at least two days, as to not look too interested. It sat like a rock in my chest until I finally felt educated on the topic to respond in the normal manner. That was the weight that has lifted in the past few days. Now I have a better understanding of the communication process, which should alleviate some stress. The unknown kills me. I feel the pressure to do everything correctly. I over-analyse most situations. I still have to communicate with his high school coach to get the last of his game films for editing. I then will have to dissect all 4 full games to extract any highlight-worthy segments to send to NCSA for their film department for final editing.
- Checking my online for changes - This is rather conceded, egotistical, and needy and makes me feel stupid and pathetic, yet I do this at minimum 5 or 10 times daily. I get on and check my e-mail, facebook for comments and notifications, this blog for comments and pageviews, my Youtube channel inbox, views, notifications, and my son's football recruiting profile for coach views. I hate that I do it but I'm guessing that it might be somewhat normal to a lesser extent is today's socially jacked-in global network.
- P-doc appointment - They cancelled once. It took me forever to set it up the first time. I just fucking hate being psychoanalysed. I just hate going in and airing my dirty laundry. I just hate that my P-doc makes my wife come along so he can get the real truth out of my current state. I feel like a baby. I hate that my check doesn't come in my name or at least I can't legally cash it myself. I set up a new appointment for the end of this month. Now my thoughts will just randomly wander to the upcoming ordeal. He is 37 just like me. A few visits ago he said that owns the same Star Wars shirt that I was wearing. In some weird way that comment made me compare our lives and the forks in the roads that my faulty neurons helped me become lost. That he was my better, more pure alter ego. Like we appeared the same but for my pointy evil-beard. At least it is a tele-med appointment and I don't have to personally shake his hand and lay on his couch. That is a small solace and it feels slightly less real emotionally. I can't ever be too honest with him or even my wife because he will force me into the ward until I play the positivity, monkey-see-monkey-do game. He has asked me to go in of my own volition a few times but I told him I couldn't afford it without insurance. Just typing this, I find myself anxiety ridden. I can't wait for it to get over with. No one can truly know my thoughts for I even repress them. I am not a bad person. I am actually pretty rational, just hurting and crazy, but I want no pity in this life, just maybe some understanding.
- Reading my collapse medical book - I love this book. Not enough diagrams for my liking, but the knowledge is priceless if you become an injured or wounded victim's last resort and no ambulance is coming and there is no hospital. My 10 years of first aid, CPR, AED, and other training, helps me feel a little more prepared to absorb some of this great book's info. I will share some of the info on medications that I found eye-opening, yet not surprising in our elitist, corporate world.
- Spring collection in woods - Primitive items for survival, crafts, and experience, i.e. bones, obsidian, cattails, pine sap, birch bark, fat wood, walking stick worthy tree/limb for carving, and now also searching for herbs and edible/medicinal plants, etc.
- Making a birch bark box with porcupine quill designed lid - It is so much harder than I thought to make this primitive box for my mother-in-law. She has breast cancer and I would feel proud to gift her a box handcrafted by me. I haven't told her about it due to my tendency to procrastinate or lose motivation or interest all together. Research and design ideas are becoming tedious. Processing the quills is slow going. I had to pluck a stinking porky. I have been poked many times by the pitiless barbed modified hairs since the start of this project. I had to size, sort, and grade a far amount of quills. I had to wash the quills and dry. Now I have to trim one end of each hollow quill to help with dyeing process color saturation uniformity. I will then have to separate them into 5 or so different size-blended batches for dying different colors. So no matter the size or diameter quill I need for stitching, the colors will match. All this is research so hopefully my first batch turns out well. I wanted to go traditional on the dyes, but some of the color ingredients aren't likely to be around in spring, and with her illness one never knows a time frame or hopefully a remission. Then on to the fabrication phase which I am currently very hazy on. I have ideas but I want done right. I will keep this first quill design semi-simple because I want it done quickly and I am a novice with the whole project really. I will try to post pics here when finished.
As with everything else on this huge obsession list, I feel pulled by anxiety, need, want, and guilt, by an unseen powerful taskmaster all demanding to get my utmost attention. That is a lot of directions. This is all tearing me apart. Day in day out pulling. It is so hard to satisfy so many mental obligations in this fucked bipolar brain of mine. It feels like I am fighting to stay atop the dwindling grains of sand. I have wrote so much to post, but I get side-tracked away before I get to proofread and post. I promised myself when I started up this blog again that I would use it to document all my issues, thoughts, stresses, symptoms, etc. for future reference, yet I even hide embarrassed from others of similar minds and dysfunctions. Sometimes life feels like a punch to the gut and every time I catch my breath in comes another shot to the sternum. Sorry for the novel. I have spent way too long on this post I surely must be neglecting something. Hopefully not the family.
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