My Personal Bipolar Journey

Support New BP Blog

2008-10-26T12:50:00.000-07:00

Jesse just started his BP blog. Check it out here.

Live webcams of Smasher

2008-09-22T14:35:00.000-07:00

http://lhc-live.com

Atom Smasher

2008-09-19T18:16:00.000-07:00

I have something for you to check out that I think you would be interested in. First look up CERN. It is the particle accelerator “Atom Smasher” that just started its test runs. It is considered possibly the greatest scientific experiment of all time. They are looking for many things with subatomic particles, foremost among these would be the Higgs Boson “the god particle” - the theoretical substance that gives matter mass and gravity. In theory some byproducts of the testing could create wormholes, mini black holes, strangelets, new universes, new space travel fuels and processes, etc - and possibly show us up to 7 more dimensions that we currently hypothesize yet have no understanding. Oh yea, there is also a slight possibility that it could vaporize everything on the Earth. Figure I might add in that small mundane point. Good nerd stuff. This thing whorls electrons at opposing directions at nearly the speed of light. The loop that the electrons are traveling is 17 miles long and the electrons whip around that circuit 11,000 times per sec. That is just sick.

KISMET

2008-08-02T19:48:00.000-07:00

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved. "I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."

"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.

"Yes," the farmer replied proudly.

"I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did.

Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools, and in time, he graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London. He then went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.

What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.

His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Someone once said: What goes around comes around.

Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching. Sing like nobody's listening. Live like it's Heaven on Earth. Be true to yourself. You will be remembered for what you were and the actions you did.

Hi All

2008-08-01T02:08:00.000-07:00

I’ve been well. Summer has been great. Watching the Ash-children play soccer has been a blast. We haven’t done much, but it has still been a good summer. We would like to go Michigan’s Renaissance festival later this month if the money is available. Damn, I’m such a nerd.

Ash-wife and I have started watching 2 series on DVD. Both Sci-fi. Stargate SG1 and Battlestar Galactica. It is a great escape for us. BSG is an extremely well written show. It actually won best-written show on TV. Even if you aren’t a sci-fi buff you still would likely love this show.

Later all.

Biomancer - excerpt

2008-07-23T10:54:00.000-07:00

Prime smacked the slave in the face. “Girl, look at me. How many times do I have to tell you that I like it better when you look in my eyes.” He gave her thin arms, which he held firmly to the mattress, a tight squeeze, warning her to be quiet. Her crying became whimpering. Tears ran down the side of her face from the corners of her eyes, filling her ears. Everything sounded hollow in her head, his voice, his heartbeat, the crackle of straw from the mattress as he pushed against her.
She found it was over quicker if she resisted a little, making him angry. His weight on her chest was oppressive. She had to breathe in gasps, which seemed to arouse him further. In his sick mind he likely thought that he was stimulating her. She thought of him and the guards that almost nightly chose her, dying a thousand deaths, a thousand torturous ways. Contemplating their deaths made it almost tolerable, almost. For some reason she was chosen more often than the other girls were. Two nights without being visited was a rarity. She just wanted it to end. If not for her brother being left alone in this horrendous place, she would have by now ended her own life to stop the pain that she had to endure. More than anything she just wanted it to end.
“What!” he pushed his chest in the air, rising above the slave, still thrusting. “What is that,” he said to himself, looking concernedly out the open window.
A small light could be seen in the yard. Someone was walking toward the log yard. Something was amiss, and he knew it. Guards didn’t use that path to travel between posts.
Prime stopped unfulfilled, got off the straw-filled mattress, and took a long swig of something from a black bottle. He tossed the empty container aside and picked a wrinkled robe from the floor, wadded it into a loose ball, and threw it at the girl-slave with malice. “Get back to your room, slave,” Prime demanded with a drunken slur.
Shakily she put on the robe from the corner of the mattress farthest from his lecherous reach, feeling the bruises forming on her stiff arms. Disconcerted she hurried from the room without a care for what had consumed his thoughts, yet grateful that something had.
Prime sluggishly got dressed. Pulling on his pants, he unbuckled his five-thong whip and set it on the room’s lone, wobbly-legged table. Off he went to the supply room, deciding to get something a little more destructive.

Bye

2008-07-23T10:48:00.001-07:00

The time rolling,
The bell toiling,
Life embittered.
I am nothing.
Pain deep and blinding,
Taunting laughter reminding,
Strife rendered.
I am nothing.
Feeling’s filter not working.
Brain off-kilter.
Time slowing,
Thoughts lolling,
Should I do it?
I am nothing.
Decision hardened cold,
Darkness sold,
Off I go.
Damn-it I can’t even do this right.
One more try.
Bye.

My Tree of Woe

2008-07-23T10:46:00.001-07:00

Hot - fuse burning fast,
Cold – days, my last,
The hell I feel, no one knows.
Off I go, to my tree of woe.

Hot – my soul chained
Cold – my essence drained
The hell I feel, no one knows.
Off I go, to my tree of woe.

Hot – my thoughts insane,
Cold – my words inane,
The hell I feel, no one knows.
Off I go, to my tree of woe.

Hot – the blood flows,
Cold – the blood goes,
The hell I feel, no one knows.
Off I go, to my tree of woe.

Hot – my last breath,
Cold – finally death,
The pain I do not show,
Off I go, to my tree of woe.
The hell I feel, no one knows.
Off I go, to my tree of woe.

MAXIM

2008-07-15T19:34:00.000-07:00

I HAVE BIPOLAR DISORDER;
BIPOLAR DISORDER DOESN'T HAVE ME.

Good News

2008-07-08T09:06:00.000-07:00

Ash-wife went in for her biopsy. We were at the hospital for 6 ½ hrs. The Dr. came in and said that it was totally gone. That is very odd, yet the best outcome possible. I’m guessing that is was actually a cyst and it broke, but what do I know? Our stress level has gone do considerably. It does piss me off though that her regular Dr. told us that it looked like cancer.

I’m doing well. I lost my P-doc because he went to a new practice. He is going to see if my family Dr. will just prescribe my psych meds. Hopefully this works out. If I have some bad issues or episodes I will get another one or see a therapist.

Later, Ash out…

Quick Update

2008-06-23T07:19:00.001-07:00

I have been doing rather well, although I am still dealing with the irritability issues.

We are rather busy at the moment. Both kids have soccer, which takes up 3 to 4 days a week.

It isn’t looking good with Ash-wife’s test results. We have an appointment on the 2nd to go over the results. But our family Dr told my wife the other day at her appointment that by the blood work it looks like cancer. He told her that she has had a horrible young life with medical problems and that she should really start praying. That is currently scaring the shit out of us.

I have been playing poker a lot lately due to being on a 14-day win streak. I’m up $800 in those 2 weeks. I always when in the long-term, but this is one hell of a rush that I’m on. I haven’t spent any of my own $ in years, since I started back in 2006. I have made over $7000 that has helped supplement our income since Ash-wife got injured. That is a great hobby if you ask me. Getting paid for something that I love. I’m averaging $20/hr.

Here is quick pic of one of my finished projects. It was made entirely out of Plaster of Paris and then painted. It relaxes me while I watch TV with the Fam. It is 28 cm. Scale. No taller that 4’’.

Weight update: I now have been living at 173 to 175lbs for 3 months or so. I am happy about this.

My camera sucks, I know.

Later Ash out…

Not So Good News

2008-05-20T14:45:00.000-07:00

I have been doing well for the most part. I have been a bit overly irritable lately. My wife said that I have been snappy with her the past few weeks. I told her that I would stop it and I have done well recently.

I got my evaluation the other day and the “unprofessional communication” comment has reared its ugly head again. All salary personnel now have a performance plan and get evaluated quarterly now. WhooHoo, kick ass. One solace is that now us supervisors don’t have to attend the morning meetings any longer. This will help me greatly because I will seldom interact with management, thus giving me less chance of an outburst. I still need to work on this for myself though. I think my biggest problem is ruminating on things that aggravate me, so when the discussion/confrontation arises I am already worked up.

One last thing is that my P-doc is leaving, so I will have to find another psych. That sucks. It will be my third one. I hate having to rehash my flaws over and over to new people, but I do need my meds.

On the poker addiction front. I have really been doing OK here. I played the bare minimum during the last 3 months. YET, that will likely change now. I bought a laptop. I can now sit in bed and play. I still don’t plan to play more during the day or so much that I neglect everyone. I have been very good with sticking to a few hrs a day, around half the month.

Today’s Pet Peeve: People that don’t have a conception of one’s private space. Everyone has an invisible “territorial Bubble” surrounding them. That is my space. If you want to talk to me, go ahead and stay a good 2 feet away and state your business. I don’t need, want, or except you getting 6 inches from my face and wanting to converse back and forth. (Especially if you spit on your “S’s” or if your funky breath wafts out on your “H’s”). If you can’t hear, ask me to speak up. If you can’t talk loud enough for me to hear, don’t worry, I will occasionally nod and/or kick-out an acquiescence so you think I give a shit about what I’m not listening to anyways. Curt summation: Get out of my damn face.

Ash-wife’s medical update. We had a hearing with comp last month. TheY got an extension to get their ducks in a row. 2 ½ years and they need extra time to get everything together. That is sad. Our next hearing is June 5th. She has so much documentation that I can’t see her losing the case. We will see.

She just went in for an EEG the other day and they found seizure activity. She never had those before her accident. We don’t see the neurologist until the very day of the hearing so hopefully she can obtain the EEG report itself for evidence. It is amazing what a 20lb. box to the head can do to one’s body. Luckily she has had the same Dr. for a long time, who can verify how active she was and without these medical issues before the accident.

As if my wife hasn’t had a bad enough time medically, we have a new issue that is causing a lot of stress in our lives at the moment. My wife has had a cyst on one of her ovaries for years. Over the last few years it has gotten bigger. (The size of a golf ball.) Finally her Dr. decided that she should get a Pap Smear to check it out. He found that it had grown to the size of a baseball. Also it was attached to the outside of her uterus. This was making her body believe that she was pregnant to a point. She has lactated for many years and we always thought it was kind’a weird. Not full baby rearing boobs, but occasionally they would ache and she could pinch her nipples and get a little milk out. Anyways, they just did an ultrasound the other day and found to our dismay, that in fact it was a tumor. They will do tests within the next few weeks and we will know if it is benign or not. She also has a small mass on her liver that has been there for years. We are very afraid. She has not told her mother yet due to her mother’s heart problems. No reason to get her worked up before we know one way or the other. When the doctor thought it was just a cyst attached to her uterus, he was going to do a partial hysterectomy and leave the other ovary so she didn’t do the menopausal hormone thing at her age. Now he wants to go in and biopsy a piece. I have heard too many horror stories of cancer spreading when they mess with a cancerous tumor or organ. They were going to remove everything anyways, so we are going to discuss them just removing the whole thing in one shot and biopsy it once it is out of her, as not to take the risk. Wish us the best and pray for her.

...And Kids That Was The First Time I @#%ed $%# For Crack

2008-04-20T13:55:00.000-07:00

I’m sorry all; I just haven’t been with it lately. I’m not going to make a bunch of promises about my procrastinating ways. I’ll just say that I will try harder to post more often.

On Ash-wife’s medical front, it isn’t going too well. It is a very slow process. I see her spiraling daily into depression and defeatism. The neuro-surgeon said that she has some minor structural damage, but nothing that can be helped surgically. They all say that there isn’t any or much compression of the nerves or spiral cord - not enough to necessitate surgery that is. They want her to learn to deal with the pain or continue on pain meds the rest of her natural life apparently. Our lawyer had a hearing with Comp, but all that occurred was an extension to a later date in June so Comp can get more medical reports together. We have an appointment with a Comp Dr coming up in a few weeks. I’m guessing that is going to be a farce and a half. My wife is totally stressed about it and can’t shake thinking about it. On the plus side, my wife has lost around 15 lbs in a month or so, to which makes her happy in this otherwise drear and tumultuous phase in her life. She looks better and is getting compliments and non-stop queries on how she is accomplishing it. Since she can’t exercise due to her injury she has done this all by her on diet program. She eats a small portion every 2 hrs throughout the day. She eats what she wants too, not just healthy foods. I am actually quite amazed at how well this is working for her. She feels good about herself in this respect and that makes Ash a happy man.

I have never really gone through DT’s before. When I quit smoking for the first time years ago –yea that sucked. But I’m telling you I took a kick to the junk last week. I’ve run out of lamictal multiple times in the past and never really had too many withdraw symptoms. I ran out of Seroquel last week and OMG did it kill me. I had chest pains, heart pains, heart palpitations, migraines, chills, sweats, muscle aches, fatigue, vomiting, inability to eat, and barely any sleep for days. I honestly thought I was dying. I could barely move; I was in so much misery. Sorry about the whine session guys, but I have never felt anything even close to that. I was like that dude from the original Grease on Celebrity Rehab. LOL. What pisses me off about it all is that I now have to go through a mail order prescription service through my work insurance. I called my P-doc and he called it in for me, but for some reason it sat in the research department at the mail order assholes for close to a week. I don’t know what the issue was, but they should be able to resolve whatever issues they were having with my script a bit more promptly. Hell, what if it was someone’s heart pills or maybe a BIPOLAR person that might just snap at any moment and lose their relationships, livelihood, sanity, and/or freedom. My wife figured out what the problem was – DT’s. It got so bad that my wife called my P-doc back and got them to fax me a 10-day supply at my local pharmacy. An hr after taking my pills I was totally better. Baby got his crack back!!!

I hope everyone is doing well. Later, Ash out…

I'm Feeling Pretty Good Right Now and Other Ramblings

2008-03-11T01:16:00.000-07:00

I still feel well; great actually. I really think that the fish oil pills do help keep me stable. I am less irritable also, which is beautiful.

One thing that is darkening my mood a bit is the perpetuity of winter here in the UP. I still have 6 to 8 ft snow banks in my yard. The roads are still packed-snow covered. I haven’t seen anything green in months on end. It is truly getting old. Spring might in reality be here, but not where I live. No wonder all the elderly people that can afford it live in Florida in the winter. They are called snowbirds. I might think about light therapy next winter. Maybe. It’s an option anyway. I’ll feel like a pet lizard under the Vita-light.

On the work front, I finally got a great yearly review. I got Meets and Exceeds on my evaluation. I was told that I got the highest raise in the mill. That makes me feel good. My only negative section ever on my salary evals was my lack of professional communication. And obviously we all understand why that was. First undiagnosed and then a transitional period with my meds trying to find the right mix to quell my anger and impulsivity among other things. No blow-ups last year and only one incident the year prior. We had this crotchety, backstabbing, semiskilled, nurtured and pampered receptionist that only kept her job because guys at work thought she was hot. She complained about everything and everyone. The two other women in the office and her hated each other. She had a pet name for them when they weren’t around. She always referred to them as “The Cunts,” and talked shit about them to anyone that would listen, which was a lot of salary guys, who would loiter around her deck checking out her revealing attire and bask in her flirtation. We got along at first, but then she ran her mouth about me up front one day, likely really pissed at me because I didn’t ogle and show her the attention that she expected from everyone from the male species. My boss was told about her ranting and raving and making a scene up front by someone other than her when getting back from lunch. He misconstrued something in the telling and thought that I was personally up there arguing with her, instead of innocently by proxy. He confronted me and wouldn’t believe that I had nothing to do with it. He threatened my job and as it became heated. After that he started sending me notes with 1, 2, and 3 exclamation points after her written queries. I confronted her in front of my boss and explained exacted what exclamation points mean, especially used in the manner in which she was using them. I even brought the dictionary. LOL. I will admit that I even though I knew what she was doing it was wrong of me to make a confrontation out of it. Yet, I was having a slightly unstable episode at the time. I didn’t raise my voice, but I was hyperventilating, my eyes were hatred personified, and I was talking to her as if she was a lower life form; a virus of vile contagion and pestilence maybe. Ha ha. I don’t know if I have come across with my view of her, but let me reiterate; I despise her as a person. LOL. I was called into a meeting with my boss and the plant manager and verbally reprimanded for the incident. It also was mentioned on that year’s eval. I admitted wrongdoing and honestly did feel bad because I was pretty intense and it scared both my boss and her. They were stunned. I am not a mean-spirited person. It ultimately happened because she was being an ass and I was ruminating about it every time she sent me a memo or request with 3 loud “!!!” on the page. She quit recently when she got a new boss, and it was rumored and I believe, he wouldn’t coddle her and expected her to actually be capable of her position. There is no love lost and I am happy as shit that she is gone. Anyways, to end this uber drawn-out paragraph, I finally got a raise and recognition that I worked so had for. Believe me when I say that I had many moments last year that I felt compelled, almost beyond my ability, to argue and snap with pure unadulterated lividness. I just made curt answers and really never divulged anything verbally that wasn’t specifically asked of me. They are missing out on many things that I know and can solve or help them with, but it is their loss, because if keeps me from getting worked up, that is the way my professional relationship with the management team will remain. It is a testament to therapy, my psychology studies, contemporary medication and sheer will and effort that I was able to restrain my internally-lamented bipolar tendencies. I have come far with my inner demons and I am proud of myself.

I was also recently offered a job that is a gateway job likely resulting in a corporate position. I turned it down because I am currently stress-free – nearly stress-free – in my position and I see no reason to purposely add undue stress to my life. Plus, Ash-wife’s mother isn’t in the best of health and there is no way see would relocate to Nashville after 2 or 3 more years here. Plus, my kids are established here in school. I know what it is like to move and change schools perpetually and I will not inflict that personal, emotional, and social chaos on my children if I can possibly help it.

Well, tomorrow Ash-wife and I go down state to see a neurosurgeon. Hopefully he will give us good news. Good and bad really. Good meaning that he will do surgery on her neck, which will give her back some sort of a normal existence. Yet, bad meaning that she needs a dangerous surgery. It has been over 2 years since her accident and she still hasn’t really had any treatment other than pain drugs. Plus, Comp stopped paying her wages 2 years ago now and it really has been a strain on our finances. But ultimately the worst of it is that she feels helpless, negative, and fatalistic about everything. She has PTSD and clinical depression steaming from the accident and her subsequent medical treatment by the medical community. She has been injured since she was 29 year’s old. That is just wrong. Please, let this guy help us.

Lastly, I will try to post a pic of my WIP. (work in progress)It is a 28mm scale model of a Medieval inn. Man is it a lot of work.

Wish us luck. Later, Ash out…

I'm Feeling much better now

2008-03-06T12:25:00.000-08:00

I am feeling much better now, although I don't feel as regulated as a few months back. I am back on my meds. You would think that psychiatrists and their nurses would be more diligent with mental illness prescriptions. You know what I mean? What if I would have lost my job due to their negligence? I am still having bouts of irritability for some reason. I hate it. I don’t like being that person. I will have to work on this. Maybe start taking my omega 3 fish oil again.

Well, everyone I will update again soon. I hope everyone is doing well. Take care of yourselves and remember you can do anything you put your minds to. We are not handicapped; we are just challenged, so we must work harder than most. Don’t let our illness be a crutch or excuse to procrastinate and not fulfill your true potential. Be strong and you will persevere.

I myself, need to work on my motivation in regards to my psychology studies. Merely a 2 page essay has taken me 2 months so far. I just don’t feel like doing it for some odd reason. I will force myself to complete it this next week at work. Let’s see if I can update with that small accomplishment. Baby steps. Baby steps. LOL.

Thanks for sticking with me through these last few months where I have neglected my blog.

Later, Ash out…

I'm Out Of It

2008-02-24T02:26:00.000-08:00

First off, I didn’t quit smoking. Hopefully soon I will give this another try.

I don’t feel good right now. As I write this I am feeling down and out of it. I don’t feel normal either. I don’t know how to explain really. It is like I am a passenger in my own reality; like looking through an opaque lens. I’m me obviously, but it isn’t the me that I know. I am just going through the motions at the moment. I have to restrain my comments. It isn’t easy. I have always been a very observant person and right now I am unconsciously critiquing everything and everyone and finding all flaws. And everything is aggravating me. I shouldn’t be a work. I should be home where I don’t have to interact with as many people. I talked to one of my guys and he said that I had my “crazy eyes going all night last night and was very irritable. My wife called me at work and asked who was on the phone. She said that it didn’t even sound like me. She said that I was very curt and short with her. I can’t get coverage at the moment, so I will just have to watch myself until my days off. What I am worried about is that Monday morning all the salary people come in and I have to go to a meeting and explain how the weekend went. I will have to give myself a pep-talk before the meeting and not say too much. Hopefully no one pushes my buttons. I must remain calm, collected and professional.

I have been off my Lamictal for a week now. I can feel the difference. My Doc didn’t send in my script. I will have to call Monday morning and remedy this. I keep getting headaches. I haven’t been getting these for months now, but they are back at the moment. I really need my meds.

Wish me luck, Ash out…

Procrastinator’s Post

2008-02-17T09:16:00.000-08:00

Sorry about the downtime with the blog thing. I usually blog at work and I was off on vacation for close to a month. And no, I didn’t do shit; I was just off of work. It was nice.

I have a weird little mood going. Manic – depressive. Well now that I write it, I guess that ain’t too weird; that is what we are. Deep winter is here now. This is always my worst time of the year. Snow banks that I can’t see over. Bitter cold temps. And with my horrible 4 days of 7am-7pm then 4 nights of 7pm-7am schedule, it is never light outside when I am awake. I honestly don’t see the light of day but a few days a week. That is probably the worst thing possible for a Bipolar person. Plus winter is so very long up here in the UP of Michigan. On the flipside I’ve been manic for a month now. The Seroquel is finding it harder and harder to put me to a good night’s rest. I often think that I am not hitting REM sleep and wake up feeling worse than when I went to sleep. Guaranteed If I ran out I wouldn’t sleep much. My mind is constantly turning. I thoughts flood out just about everything. When people talk to me I have to make a conscious effort to pay attention and often that doesn’t help and I have to ask them to start over. My eyes are constantly wide and intense. I find myself dominating conversations and unable to shut-up.

I will say that luckily I haven’t had too much rage that usually wells inside during the manic times. A few days everyone’s voices grated my nerves and I got pissy, but overall I remained calm. I have caught myself at work getting irritated and having to reign in my comments that otherwise would seem crass or even belligerent.

I haven’t had any anxiety attacks since last I blogged and this makes Ash very happy. Man do I hate those.

Work hasn’t been too stressful lately, although I have been gone more than there lately. Not being there usually does wonders for stress levels. LOL.

On the weight scene, I now weigh-in at 173 lbs. I weighed 216 lbs at the start of my diet. That is 43 lbs. I am happy with were I’m at now.

I’m still smoking, but plan to quit for good tomorrow. It is expensive, plus I am sick of the morning cough. I am currently smoking over 2 packs a day. That is how I roll with things; either I don’t do something or I do it to extreme. Tomorrow starts the rest of my life. Hopefully by quitting I don’t get an oral fixation (that didn’t sound right, lol) and start chowing-down. I guess I will have to start chewing more gum.

I have started doing something with my art and fantasy obsession and plan to post pics when I’m complete with my first project. I haven’t played nearly as much poker since I started this project.

Hey All

2008-02-05T18:54:00.000-08:00

I will update within the next few days. I have been real manic for weeks now. I have also been on vacation for a month now.

Later, Ash out...

YO, YO, YO

2007-12-31T12:14:00.000-08:00

I haven’t posted in awhile. I guess it because I am still pretty regulated – on the up side anyways. I will admit that I have been manic though. This last month my mind doesn’t stray far from the poker table. I now have a friend at work that plays online like do and I don’t know how healthy that is for me. You see, now we talk poker hand histories and strategy all the time. He is a new player to the game that I know so well, or think I do anyways. So he is basically my protégé and I am coaching him how to win money as I do. Plus, I have another one who is just starting out online and is depositing this week. They are being lured in by my success at our live games and my online winnings. They see it as a means to make money and ask tons of questions. All this has done is open the Pandora’s box to my love of poker and tilted me towards my manic self. My schoolwork is also suffering from this current enthrallment. I just need to complete 2 essays and I will be done with my current course. I actually competed one yesterday on childhood gender stereotyping, but I have been procrastinating all and all on getting these done. Even though I am manic I’m not too irritable, although loud voices and the children’s roughhousing rakes my nerves. I guess I do get a little agitated at the moment over simple shit, but I am containing my inner rage fairly well. I haven't had any anxiety attacks lately and that makes Ash a happy boy.

I hope everyone had a great holiday season. And don’t get too drunk tonight!!!

Later, Ash out…

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 11

2007-11-21T19:36:00.000-08:00

My dad finished school and they decided to go to Michigan for the summer and do some missionary work at a church. So accentually I became homeless at that point. That scared me so I sobered up and got a hold of Jason and his mom let me move in. My sister stayed with being a nanny to my uncle’s family so she had a place to stay. Jason and I sat around getting high every afternoon and partying out every night and then sleeping all day again and repeated that cycle, while his mom supported us and kept giving him the funds to keep us tweaked. She finally got fed-up and started coming down on us pretty hard about getting jobs and to stop bumming our lives away. One of our party friends got us laborer jobs with a small-time construction crew. This turned out to be worse than not having jobs. You see, the owner was a big-time drug dealer and the whole crew was like us - most worse. We all smoked pot on every break and lunch break. It got so bad that he would front us our weed one week and we would be working off that debt by working the next week. I was depressed that whole summer. My life was going nowhere. My parents called for the only time at the end of that summer and told me that they had taken a pastor job in a very small town in Michigan. They said that they were coming home to get all their belongings and U-hailing it all up north and my sister was going and I needed to decide what I wanted to do. My life was going nowhere and Jason’s mom was at her wit’s-end with us. It was only a matter of time before I ended up in jail or dead with the horrible things that we were doing. I decided to make a new start and said that I would go. I registered for school and went to school the first day. The freshmen all met-up in the gym that first morning for orientation and to meet the teachers. I was 3 years older than those kids and they were running around and playing like the kids that they were. Kids were abhorred seeing me smoking in the boy’s room and I told them all to fuck-off and grow-up. I was surrounded by immature freshmen that whole first day and quit right then and there. My parents were disappointed, but what did I care. My sister found out that there was a community school for dropouts. I signed up and started going there. And of course these were just the kind of kids that I didn’t need to be around. I got right back into the drug and party scene and became a town thug. I met my future wife the first time while going to score some dope from her sister’s boyfriend, which lived at her parents’ house. I talked to her a while my friend was hanging with my future brother-in-law. I thought she was pretty hot but she was only 15 at the time and I was 17 and I didn’t think I’d likely she her again anyways. A few months later I saw her again. 2 guys and I were cursing Main Street and picked up her and her 2 friends. I immediately had my eye on her. It was Devil’s Night, which is the night before Halloween, where local kids would toilet paper and egg peoples’ houses. I had never heard of it, but hey, it was a new state. When they got in they asked what was up with the rifle in the back seat. For some reason my dad had left it the car; I told them to just sit on it. No telling what they were thinking about at that point. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her because soon after picking them up I was pulled over by the cops. The girls worried about the guy and so was I although I said to just keep sitting on it so the cop wouldn’t see it. I know he pulled me over because we were young and I had out of state plates and it was Devil’s Night. The cop lied and said that he pulled me over because I forgot my blinker at the turn. He was a real dick and made us all get out. He asked if I had any eggs in my car or anything else to hide. I kind’a lied and said no; well I didn’t have any eggs anyways. He quickly saw it and told me he was arresting me. Me, ever the comic for my adoring crowd; I screamed Rodney King over and over as he bent me over the car and cuffed me. He slammed my head off the roof while putting me in the back seat and I shut the hell up. I had been working the last few weeks along with my friends doing phone polls about the upcoming elections. My dad got my money I had saved and bailed me out.

I GOT PISSED

2007-11-20T21:59:00.001-08:00

Some guys from other crews were talking about a resent child custody battle of another employee in the press control where I was standing and was half-ass part of the conversation. We were all happy that the guy got his kid. BUT, during the discussion they were talking about why he got the kid. One guy says that he didn’t understand why it took years to come to a resolution. He said that the judge had an easy decision because she was Bipolar. The other guy says no, she was schizophrenic, but they are basically the same thing. They didn’t take her kid from her because of that; they took her away because she was a bad mother, a drug addict, didn’t comply with the court resolutions over and over, and had already lost her 2 other kids for neglect. But I didn’t mention this because I was fuming at their ignorance. I told the mental illness ignorant bastards that there are huge differences. One guy said that I was the psych major so I should clear it all up for them. They probably were wondering why I was aggravated. I explained it all for them the best I could. What really pisses me off is that the major majority of this wonderful country is totally uninformed and ill informed about our illness. We are portrayed in the media and TV shows as total psychos that will snap at any moment and kill everyone in sight. I’m really getting sick of this shit. Every time someone kills someone or more than one person the “experts” start guessing that they are bipolar before anything is even known about the situation. It irks the shit out of me. The stigma that surrounds us at the mere mention of our illness is totally irrational and negative, degrading, demoralizing, and ultimately discriminating. We are stereotyped horribly in the media. One thing positive that I have noticed lately is a few bipolar meds are being advertised on TV. (Although I don’t agree with med advertisements because they take away form Drs diagnoses and horribly increase health care costs.) Maybe that will open the communication lines to the ignorant. OK, rant over.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 10

2007-11-18T17:58:00.000-08:00

I moved back home and was allowed to go to that high school again because the expulsion was only for the prior year. I got right back in with my little gang of punks. One guy was a senor and had so many credits that he only had to go to school for 2 morning classes. That quickly became the daily norm to skip the rest of the day after 2nd period. I would always piss off the teachers by showing up in classes on Fridays and Ace the tests that the kids had been studying for all week. The teachers would always say, look who showed up for class again while calling roll, and the kids would laugh at my dumbass. We all had licenses and drank and got high every day. I would show back up at home at all hours of the night, eat, shower, and go listen to tunes in my room until I fell asleep. I can’t even begin to tell you all the dumb shit that I did that year, mostly because it would be incriminating evidence and if you haven’t already left my blog for good, you would. I once again got expelled even though I had basically quit anyways. They just pulled me into the office one day and said that I was a detriment to all the hardworking students and that I just wasn’t allowed on campus any longer. I agreed with them and left, quiting school in the 9th grade. I got a job at the local Burger King and was embarrassed daily as the juniors and seniors came in for lunch every day. So to feel better about myself I chewed on their pickles and spat on their hamburgers daily and ordered them up with a sly knowing smile. Man, was I a piece of shit. I truly don’t know what made me grow the fuck up and turn around my demented, sick, self-destructive, ways – well yes, actually I do – a good woman and needing to be a good father to two wonderful children. But I’ll get to that real soon. I soon got with a very nice looking senior, which was my friend’s girlfriend’s sister that was totally straight-laced, was still a virgin, barely drank, was an A-student, and was deciding which college she wanted to attend. She got with me because she finally decided, I guess, that she wanted to lose he virginity and figured I was the guy for the job. She dumped her current clueless boyfriend and started dating me because I always made her laugh while we were over visiting her sis. I obliged her and stayed with her for a while until I got in real heavy into the party scene. I ended up not visiting her often anymore as I virtually started living at a flophouse in a housing projects. I am truly lucky to be alive with all the violence and shit going on around me. These people were truly the scum of the earth and my 17 year’s old ass was nuts-deep in the lifestyle. I saw everything you could imagine while being there off and on. I had been there for over a week straight on one long bender and my best friend, which I had even isolated myself from because of the drugs, brought her there to talk to me. I was trashed and went out and kind’a sobered up a little so I could have a serious chat. She started crying seeing me that way and told me that she couldn’t stand to see me destroying my life anymore. She gave me an ultimatum, basically asking me to give that shit up and come back to her or stay and continue killing myself. Summer was basically almost there and she would be leaving for college anyways so I told her that she was way to good for me and that I was only holding her back. That she had a whole life of success ahead of her with college and all and that I was going nowhere. She gave me a long hug and wished me the best, she got in her car and left, and I went back in and commenced to get fucked-up for another few days.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 9

2007-11-12T06:40:00.000-08:00

I went back and lived at home for the summer, fully intent on going back to live with my uncle when school started back up. I met a new kid that was also living on campus and he talked me into going to his youth group. I made fast friends with the kids there and they didn’t need me to corrupt them; they were already there. I got into a small group with 2 others there and one of their friends that was already 21 and the debauchery ensued. We thought we were a gang and did some extremely horrendous things together. Put it this way, I stole my father’s gun and ended up having to throwing it in a river. And no, I didn’t kill anyone. They tried to talk me into staying with my parents and attending school there, but I declined. I was going to get into some bad trouble hanging with them and I knew that it was time for me to get away from them before I ended up in prison. I made some phone calls at the end of summer and decided to live with my best friend Cliff, his older sister, and their single mom instead of my drunken uncle at the beginning of 9th grade. I was going to be good I had decided. We had to commute an hour one-way to get to school, which was a different school that consolidated a lot of smaller middle schools from a few small districts into one large high school. I should have already had my license, because I was already 16, but they didn’t have that program in middle school, obviously because kids aren’t supposed to fail twice. It was kind’a cool, because the driving instructor would pick us up, along with 2 other local kids, in the morning a few days a week, and we would take turns driving to school and back. Cliff got his learner’s permit and I got my real license. His sister was out of school and going-out with a college student and we would spend weekends with them at his apartment instead of me going home on the weekends. They would let us get drunk. It was new for Cliff (other than at the previous summer’s church camp,) but not for me of course. His mom left for work before we left for school and got back late in the afternoon so we began skipping school and drinking liquor that her boyfriend would buy us with money that his mom supplied us for school and odds and ends. We started slow, but got to be 3 or more days a week. Things got bad from there and my friend and I had a falling out, for no other real reason than we were with each other 24/7. Oh yea, plus his mom started getting calls from school. I was only there for the first marking period. I left for home that day. During those few months I had gotten pretty close with his uncle Frank that lived next door and visited him on most days. I had always dropped by and said hi while visiting Cliff the year prior. He had a hair-lip and it was hard to understand him and even worse when drinking. He was a bad drunk and was always very depressed and was always happy to see me and have someone to talk to. The only other people that talked to him were a couple that lived across the street. They were shit and only were nice to him because he would give them money that they would never payback, but he kept giving to them because he thought they were truly his friends. One night he called them at 3am and told them that he left a note in the mailbox. They said whatever and that they were trying to sleep and didn’t find it odd, they told us later. Frank then went out to his shed and hung himself. It had a low ceiling and he actually had to hold his feet up to die or the jump off the chair broke his neck; I’m not positive which way he killed himself. I had bummed 2 cigs off of him the day before, until I got to go to the store and get my own. In the morning while waiting for the driving instructor to show-up, I started towards his house to repay him his 2 smokes and almost made it to his driveway, where I would have walked right by the opened shed and saw him hanging. The student driver car pulled into Cliff’s drive, so I had to turn around and get in the car. We got picked up from school later that morning and were told the bad news. Cliff’s father had just killed himself the Thanksgiving prior. He had recently been diagnosed with MS and took losing his strength and muscle control very hard and had become very depressed and distant with his family. He left the Thanksgiving table and went into the garage, put a 12-gauge in his mouth, and blew his head off. Cliff got anything he wanted because he was traumatized. After Frank died his mom was really worried because she thought the men in his bloodline had a faulty gene, because the last 3 men of his lineage had all committed suicide. First was the grandfather year prior and then both of his only sons. (Cliff’s dad and uncle.) His death bothered me because I had gotten so close to the depressed man. It was the first funeral that I attended. The wake was open-casket. He looked like a hollow husk of a human, like the long dead carapace of an insect. The make-up made him appear an imitation of man, resembling a wax mannequin. I stood staring at his body and found myself compelled to repay my debt to this man. I took out my pack of cigarettes placed 2 of them if his front suit pocket and said goodbye.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 8

2007-11-10T06:48:00.001-08:00

I had made up with my alcoholic uncle by this time via phone and he was willing to take me back again so I could attend school. I had to meet with the Principle again and she said that if I promised to be a good kid, she would rescind her previous threat and let me back in. She stated that other than that one major incident I wasn’t too bad the last year. I had gotten caught fingering a cheerleader on the school bus on an away baseball game at the end of the year. She still was extremely pissed about that and told me that she wouldn’t even tolerate seeing me kissing on campus, but let me stay, because she said that I was an A-student and that all the kids missed me. I was really worried that she wouldn’t forgive that transgression, but for some reason she did. I was once again back with teens that legitimately cared for me. It was really worth the squalor in which I lived, to be with that group of friends. There was never anything in the fridge but condiments and only sugar, flour, and sometime crackers in the cabinets. Roaches everywhere, and when you turned on the lights at night myriad roaches would flee the scene. I wonder how many I swallowed in my sleep? He lived day-to-day. He bought just enough 40-ounce bottles of cheap beer, generic smokes, gas, and food to make it until the very next day. You see, he didn’t want to mess up and accidentally spend too much on food and gas by buying more than a day’s worth, because when it got towards the end of the week he might not have enough money before his check for smokes and his almighty beer, because it could be sitting in his tank or fridge. That was a no-no. One thing I can say is that he always made it to work; I guess you would call him a functioning alcoholic. Every morning I would hear him in the bathroom puking up the last of his bile and then loudly brushing his teeth. I had to wash every day with dish soap. We almost always ate chicken because it was cheap. Thank God for school lunches - and there aren’t too many kids that would say that. They were the happiest times of growing years though. Everyone liked me and I was the most popular kid in our small school. It was a great place. There were only two classes in that small rural school. It was about 50/50 white and black, but for some odd reason there was absolutely no racial division and everyone hung out with everyone. Well, there was this one Goth kid, back when they just called them headbangers, but he got the shit kicked out of him about once a week, and for some reason still couldn’t stop saying hateful, racist things. After a few months of that, I got tired of seeing my friends get suspended for fighting and seeing him always by himself, so I finally called a meeting in the schoolyard, and talked everyone into a truce. Eventually he even became a semi-welcome part of our large clique, although he was always considered weird because he liked to cut himself. I loved it there. I was the worst kid in school and I was actually on my best behavior. I never got suspended the rest of that year. All the teachers knew that I smoked and turned a blind-eye because I was the unnamed leader of the kids and I never encouraged the other kids to smoke or do the things that I was known for, to all the faculty that read my ever-thickening file. I actually used to get out of class in one period to get coffee for that teacher in the janitor’s room and would sit for 10 mins or so and smoke with the janitor and lunch ladies. I also was an A-student again and the one teacher that I used to give shit the year before was a youth group leader at the church right beside our roach-infested trailer park. We became to understand each other and she let me get away with a lot that other teachers wouldn’t have after I started. The kids talked me into going and although I corrupted them somewhat, I purposely never tried to get them to do anything I was known for, other than having sex with a few of them. I never drank or did drugs that year. I actually went to bible camp for the first two weeks after school got out for the summer. I wasn’t real good there I will admit. I had reunited with my childhood friend whom stole the cigarettes, because my uncle lived close to my original NC hometown. I talked Jason into going to my youth group towards the end of the year and we both went to camp together. We smuggled in a lot of booze and had a party with all my normally good-mannered friends. We didn’t get caught, but I always did feel bad about pushing them towards their repressed inherent experimental teenaged nature.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 7

2007-11-06T01:53:00.000-08:00

When school started back up I got right back into the bad clique. Then mid-way on during that 2nd 7th grade year came my last times in that house and town. I occasionally came home on the weekends to visit my parents after that. It was a Friday and I was going to stay at a friend’s house that weekend. My parents were going to be out of town all week-end on some church function so they dropped me off a carton of cigs at school. The office personnel confiscated them and the Vice Principle told me that I couldn’t have them back and put them in his desk. My friend, whom I was staying with that weekend, and a pseudo-friend, and I, all concocted a plan to get them back. Oh it was a great idea, I tell yea. We decided to skip the next class and pull the fire alarm and while everyone was outside we would infiltrate to front office and collect the goods. And I was supposed to have a high IQ; ha! Anyways we wait until everyone went into class and the 2nd bell rang and then we went into a stairwell and fought over who was going to do it. I was smart enough to know that I wasn’t pulling the damned thing. I don’t even remember much about this kid other than his name was Richard and that I had partied with him on occasion. I really don’t even know why this kid wanted to be a part of it other than he was always in trouble; he was known in our clique for calling in a few bomb threats to get out of school for the day, yet was never caught. He no more than pulled down the red handle and a myriad kids come storming down the stairwell. We immediately lost our nerve and filed right in with the closest class. When they called the all clear, we knew we couldn’t go back to a class mid-way. So we cheesed it and skipped the rest of the day. Bright and early Monday morning in 1st period we were all summoned via the P.A. to come to the front office. I knew the jig was up, but wasn’t going to cooperate. We 3 all sat staring at each other in the office with dread on our faces as we were called one by one before the Principle. Richard went first. When he came out he smiled at me proudly and strutted to his seat, presumably waiting for his parents to come pick him up. I soon found out why he was so flamboyant when he came out. I went in and was told that they knew we did it. And that we were the only kids in the entire school, which were in class before the incident, but not on the roll for the next class. Plus, he said that the fire alarm that was pulled was in the stair well right beside our hall. I didn’t crack; I played dumb. He then tells me that Richard had already told them the whole contrivance and then commenced to tell me the whole scenario. I was shocked at the kid’s stupidity. He even confessed to pulling the alarm. They knew, but couldn’t have proved it. He said that pulling it was a federal offense or some shit. He then told me to go outside and take a seat. Marty and I were expelled from school and Richard, who also had a bag of weed on him, was arrested and set away to a juvenile detention center. I never saw either one again. I had to walk the miles home and break in a window to get into the house and stayed there by myself for the weekend, because my parents were long gone. I was then sent the next week to live with my alcoholic uncle so I could go to school the remainder of the year. I had to sit with the Principle and get a speech that she didn’t have to let me in her school and that I had to prove to her that I was deserving. He loved me and usually treated me with respect, but life there was horrible. Him and his wife constantly fought over his alcohol abuse, while I comforted my little cousin daily. They left multiple times during my 5 months there. I always felt sorry for them and I was glad when she finally found the strength to leave for good to a better life that her and my little cousin deserved. It was a small school and I was very popular there as soon as I started. I was always popular at schools; kids envy funny delinquents for some dumb reason or another. I finally ended up getting suspended for the last week of school and my uncle and I had a falling out. He punched me, when in defense of his remarks about my parents, which were actually true, I called him a worthless drunk that had run his family off and ruined his own life. I moved back home, which was now in another city, where my parents were living in campus housing, due to my father having taken the call and was going to seminary to become a preacher. They had given my Lab back to the college kid when they moved because dogs weren’t allowed. My sister lived off and on with us, preferring for the most part to live with some of my more loving relatives in exchange for being an in-house nanny to there billion-and-one children. She was better off there anyways, at least she always felt loved with them, as her and my father never got over the fact that she was a stepchild, even though he had raised her from infancy. She had lived off and on with them throughout her whole upbringing. I never knew that she was my half-sister until I was 13 and her dad came to visit her for the only time in her life. I do remember corrupting a group of resident churchy kids on campus whom where sadly weak enough to try to follow my great example that summer. I met them all at the on-campus recreation center. Some of these kids didn’t even have TV’s in their homes, due to their parents’ overzealous religious dogmas, so you know they weren’t mentally ready to cope and withstand my rebellious influence. I quickly got a bad reputation on campus and most weren’t allowed even near me. My parents were real impressed. I also got banned from the Rec Center that summer. I started 8th grade in that city’s middle school. I instantly turned to the darkside, which turned into another period of debauchery continuing with the drugs, drinking, sex, skipping, suspensions, and within a mere 3 months, another expulsion from yet another school district. Shit I don’t even remember why I got thrown out for good; it wasn’t from just one incident I know that much. I remember skipping school once and doing acid and guzzling a 5th of Crown Royal and somehow ending up back at home that afternoon with my favorite pair of shoplifted, designer, baggy jeans ripped all the way down one leg. I never did acid again, it did too well messing with my then unknown bipolar mental wiring. Actually no drugs did well, but I continued to do the others, but mostly stayed with just pot after that. If I got real messed-up I usually ended up being that guy at the party that everyone wondered who had brought that crazy motherfucker there. Sickly, I soon learned to regulate my drug usage just enough to not hit that point. Man, are kids resilient!

Weight Update

2007-11-04T19:01:00.000-08:00

I am pretty happy at the moment with my diet. Though I will never get back to my weight that I was for my last and last fight. (155lbs.) Honestly I don’t want to ever be that light again anyways. I still have a slight belly, but I’m happy. I do have some red stretch marks that I am self-conscious of, because I gained that 61lbs in about 9 months, swelling quicker than my skin could acclimate. It was like I was pregnant without the kicking, fluttering, morning sickness, and cravings for pickles and ice cream. The guys never threw me a shower either. Inconsiderate bastards! Hell, I don’t think most women gain that much during pregnancy? Courtesy of Depakote and Seroquel. Anyway, I currently weigh-in at 182lbs. That’s 34lbs. And still no exercise. LOL.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 6

2007-11-03T17:14:00.000-07:00

Back at school I got kicked out often and lived in in-school suspension when I was actually at school, so even while at school I wasn’t normally in my regular classes. This is when my father found God and became a Christian. He tried to change at this time and become a nicer person, but by this time I was hardly ever home anyways, and was already set on the bad path that I had steered down. I always thought seeing him at church was weird; it just felt wrong. He would and still does, cry and get wobbly-voiced when preaching on some subjects or telling his testimony. I always felt like he was faking it. He never showed a tear when he was treating us badly as kids, not even coming in and apologizing after the fact. They made me go to church and join a youth group. I was a very bad influence on those weak-welled impressionable young teens. They were only good when around other Christian kids and throwing me in there definitely wasn’t spiritually healthy for them. I brought out the worst in the weak ones. I always fought to not go and finally my parents realized that forcing me wasn’t going to get me into the Kingdom, so they gave in and let me stop going. I was still made to go on Sundays and occasionally on Wednesdays. During spring break Rick and I lived at the mall. We ended up stealing a car and getting caught. We never even made it out of the parking lot, because like dumbasses we just kept driving around the lot. The guy didn’t want to press charges and we were released to his mom and one of my uncles, who was going out with Rick’s mom at the time. He was my youngest uncle and still in his twenties at the time so he was pretty cool about it. He gave us a 3 hr lecture that night while steadily getting drunker, thus repeating his self over and over. He never told my parents. Rick moved away and I started hanging around with high-schoolers more, who had cars and I got drunk and high for the first time. My first time, most of us did the ole “everyone is spending the night at everyone else’s’ house trick” and stayed out and got wasted. I was supposed to stay with this one kid because mom didn’t have a curfew for him. I threw-up all over myself and the front-seat of his truck. They made me get in the back of the truck, during winter, for the ½ hr ride and dropped me off drunk at my house, saying that he wasn’t letting me get him in trouble with his mom. I remember slipping in and out of consciousness and mumbling how cold I was, drunkenly over and over between chattering teeth, with frozen snot and vomit on my newly-sprouted, extremely thin mustache. I still recall them dropping me off in the road in front of my home that night at 2:30 am and beating on the door. Nice true friends there. I didn’t care about getting in trouble at that point; I was cold and I was mad. I staggered past my mom when she opened the door, yelling, “fuck them motherfuckers,” and b-lined into my room and slammed the door behind me. I didn’t cuss in front of them before that. Not those words anyways. My dad always cussed profusely before the whole reborn thing, but I can still probably count on one hand how many times I heard my mom cuss – and even then I never heard the F-word. I do remember, even though I was 4, my mom cussing tons and screaming the night she found out my dad cheated – but hey, I’ll be magnanimous and give her that day free. A few seconds later my dad swung open the door and turned on the light. He yelled, “what is it dope, blow, hash, smack, reefer,” and a plethora of other common drug terms that he knew so well. I told him to leave me the fuck alone and we would discuss my punishment in the morning and to turn the fucking light off. He must have been in total shock because I figured that he was going to beat the shit out of my near-comatose body, because before that I had never dared cuss at him. But instead he quietly shut my door. I was never home after that and my dad later on in life told me that he knew everything that I was doing, but he felt like a hypocrite and just let me spiral down because he felt helpless to stop it. I failed again that year because I was never at school from either skipping or suspension. A black family moved in a few houses down and they had like 7 kids. Robert was my age and Duck, was 2 years older and we because fast friends. We all smoked. They smoked Newports and I smoked Marlboros. God, did I hate when I ran out and had to bum one of the strong menthols. I stayed around the house that summer and hung with my new friends, especially Robert, which kept me out of trouble during those 3 months. It was a great summer. The Play Station had come out that last Christmas and we played Super Mario Bros. and Double Dribble for countless hrs. They also taught me to play cutthroat “21” on my old basketball goal with no net that hung on a tree in my side yard; we played a lot of hoop that summer. I think Duck maybe won 90% of the time. Duck also taught Robert and I how to play cards. He played some weird versions: Hearts, Spades, and different poker games, usually with wilds cards, In-between, and a game called Tonk. I don’t even remember the rules to that last one. That’s when I found my love of cards, other than loving to watch my grown-up relatives play poker at get-togethers. Sometimes they would let me sit on their laps and put the money in the pot when I was younger. I guess I can give him props for my poker hobby. No one in their whole family knew how to swim, but Robert always wanted to go get in the water. There was a pond on Rick’s old property and they had dumped a ton of sand on one shore making a beach with a sandy bottom in that part of the pond. Perfect place to swim in the hot, hot NC summer sun. Duck never went, but Robert and his slightly younger brother always did. It was so funny; they would get in about 3 feet of water and splash around. I ended up teaching them both to swim that summer. My dog, a black lab, would always go with us. It was already trained when I got it after frisky died. My dad got it from a guy whose kid went off to college and couldn’t take care of it. I saved James’ life that summer in that same pond. You would think if you couldn’t swim you wouldn’t walk out up to your neck on a sandy bottomed pond. I didn’t have to do CPR or anything. I just had to swim out and bring him back in. He almost drowned me by thrashing around while I was pulling him in to the shallows. He did swallow a lot of water though.

My Current 2 Favorite Songs

2007-11-02T14:53:00.000-07:00

Timbaland - Apologize (feat. One Republic)

Kanye West - Stronger

Current Mood Music - Tired Twisted Gray-Matter

2007-11-02T14:40:00.000-07:00

Metallica - SANITARIUM

Pappy Roach - Last Resort

Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody

Afraid and Alone

2007-10-29T11:44:00.000-07:00

OK, I’m totally fucking frazzled. I am currently stressed right the fuck out. For the last 6 months or so I have not been stressed at my job. I confronted my boss back then in front of his/our boss and told how I was treated, how my job was threatened, and how he would cuss and scream in my face. I told them that they say that I am the best sup that they have, so why would he feel the need to treat me that way. I told them that I demanded to be treated with respect. After that meeting my boss didn’t mess with and bully me any longer. Our relationship changed for the better; he just asked me to do something nicely and I would do it. No unneeded tension and I would continue to do a good job, but with less undue stress and to my job and life. I explained that with my disorder I just could deal with the treatment. And through consoling I gained some tools to keep me from ruminating about issues. That was the key to controlling my anger, because I wouldn’t have already thought about minor issues incessantly and get livid over them and soon as the confrontation or meeting would occur I wouldn’t already have endorphins ready to fuel my rage. Well, mister rumination has reared his ugly head again in the last 2 days. I am in full-blown bipolar mania mode. Paranoia and conspiracy theories have dominated my every thought. Now it is time for some background info and the incidents and why I am so worried.

I get a call on my days off from my boss and I’m told that during my last night at work that there was some bad product (board) made and my guys blatantly just didn’t pull (downgrade) those boards and just packaged them up to send out to consumers of our product. He continues to tell me that the next 2 shifts’ personnel (which were 2 different crews) also just said fuck-it and didn’t pull the bad boards either. He told me that they couldn’t get a hold of my guys and that he needed me to keep calling and let them know that they needed to come in the next day on their day off and go back through all that board and pull the bad product. He said that there was a huge meeting to discuss the meeting at 9 am my first day back with everyone directly and indirectly involved in the incident. He said it doesn’t look good and Kurt (Plant Manager) was on the edge. The stress started and ensued for the remainder of my days off.

Here is the underlying issue. In the last 2 months 4 separate major quality issues have happened. A lot of downgrade has been incurred. All of these problems have occurred on the other 2 crews. (A and C Crew) But Kurt has had to answer for all of these to cooperate. With the housing market in the shitter and us being down for production curtailment at least 2 weeks out of every 2 months this year, that we need to produce efficiently when we are up and running. Dave and I (B and D Crew respectively) haven’t had a Quality issue in a year and a half to 2 years. A and C have had tons. After a 2 hr meeting with the hourly workers they left. We 3 Sups, a Relief Sup, the Technical Director (QC Superintendent), the Quality Control Leadman, the Finish End Superintendent, the Plant Superintendent, and the Plant Manager all stayed around to discuss the meeting and the disciplinary measures that in to happen. This management meeting lasted 2 more hours. We talked for a while and then my boss asked me what I thought the discipline should be for these people and then he was going to go around the table and ask everyone else’s opinion. I said that I felt that the meeting that we just had would be good enough and that we as Sups should go back and sit with each individual on our respective crews and reiterate everything that we discussed in the meeting and what we expected of them from then on. He wanted everyone written-up and the disciplinary report go into his or her permanent files. If you get too much negative documentation in your file your employment is terminated. Believe me I know. I said that if it was only one person, that that person made a conscious decision to not do their work or if it was one person that they all got together and decided to not do their jobs. But with it being 15 people over 3 different crews that there has to be some underlying issue at work. I said that they are obviously guilty for not caring but that we needed to look at the big picture here. That the current moral in the mill is very negative with all the hourly workers being laid off every month or so. That everyone is worried about their job security and that we had already lost a handful of people looking for different jobs. I stated that in my opinion that if you wrote-up that many people would perpetuate that moral issue and that we might lose more workers. He didn’t like my opinion and commenced to direct a long rant at me, looking at just me. I told him that I didn’t start this conversation; that I was asked my opinion; and that it wasn’t my fault that he didn’t agree with it. That kind’a pissed him off a bit. The two other Sups wanted write-ups of some sort but didn’t want the negative repercussions that would come from it. One guy would lose a worker because he was on his last leg, but at the same time he didn’t want to keep dealing with his ineptitude. Amazingly my boss agreed with my idea. When it was Kurt’s turn he said that he couldn’t just keep explaining these things to corporate. I understand his concern. He kind’a rolled everyone’s ideas into one and added to it. He said that we should write-up a performance agreement with all involved with some generic statement about what occurred and what we expect of them. He then stated that us Sups should also get one to improve moral. He said that if our guys knew that we got reprimanded for their actions, they would rally to us and do a better job to keep us out of trouble. I said hell no and that was crap. Everyone backed me on that issue. I stated what him and the rest already knew, that I was working on an issue all night and that none of my guys informed me of the bad product, so how could I be held accountable for that. After a long discussion we all decided that my boss and my idea would be best for the big picture. When he got up to leave the meeting he stopped at the door and stated talking about how to explain to corporate that no one was disciple for this blatant act. The QC Leadman and I both said that this meeting and the sit-down with the employees was discipline. He said no what we are going to is write-up a performance agreement with those employees. He didn’t mention writing us up. He left. I said to everyone at the meeting that if he was going to micro manage and do what he wanted anyways why did he waste 2 hrs of our life and take the time to ask us our opinions. All agreed with my statement and said talked about him always treating us like that. Our boss told us to start writing up these agreements. My boss comes by my office later and says that he had talked to Kurt later that morning and he made it sound like he changed his mind again and would likely make us forget about the performance agreement and go ahead and write the all up.

The next morning he came in and said that Kurt had pulled him into his office when he got there and said that they would get written up and that we would also. I was instantly pissed. I told JD (my boss) that it was unfair. That I didn’t know shit about the problem. I then stated A and C had tons of quality issues over the last 2 years and this was Dave and my first problem and how could we get written-up for our first issue when the other 2 Sups had never gotten wrote-up over any of their issues over the 2 years. He said that he agreed but his hands were tied. I told him, which he already was aware of, that I was on my last leg also and with this documentation I possibly could lose my job. He said that he understands and that he was thinking the same thing, but didn’t think that would happen. I fumed all day, totally stressed, until I got a call by JD to come to his office. The Finish End Sup and he were sitting in there when I got there. They informed me that I had possibly been making bad board since 9:30 that morning and that it was out of specs and that the QC Leadman was currently going through them to see how my were bad before they told Kurt the bad news. We waited for his call as we discussed the fact that Kurt was going to snap since he had just had the meeting the day prior and that my QC Tech was pretty much fucked and would likely lose his job. It turned out to be 28 units between that time-span the first one was thick as was the last when it was caught. These units luckily are salvageable with some rework due to the lap being thick. We can run them back through the lap saw and shave them down to the right thickness. While on the FE looking into the issue I dropped by the Lab to talk to the Leadman. I told him what I was told by JD about us getting wrote-up and why I felt is was BS. He told me that he was starting to really worry about his job because it just kept happening. He told me that being the Leadman that he had all the Quality data and would compile all the data about A and C Crew’s quality issues and put it in my in box so I would have hard facts when Dave and I fought our write-ups when our HR manager gets back in town. Soon I got a call to go up front to the conference room. I walked in and my boss, the FE Sup, QC Director and Leadman, and Kurt were waiting for me. We started going over the issue and discussed that it was possibly sabotage. A and C Crew are very disgruntled at the moment because they have been getting written-up for some of these other problems. My Tech caught one of their fuck-ups and in the ensuing meeting they said that they thought B and D Techs were conspiring against them and trying to get them in trouble and also sabotaging them. Well C Crew’s tech was the one that messed up the 4 out of the last 5 times among others, but he was the root cause of the out-of-spec product. He stepped-down to a low-rung day laborer. He has been quite vocal around the mill that he was pressured out of his position and unfairly treated. He is a very vindictive person, has spent time in prison, and has done some bad things in the past at work, and has the mentality to sabotage if he can get away with it. I hope it isn’t the case, but he knows how to change the specs. And he and the A crew tech were both working that day going through the previous bad units. Plus, here’s the clincher; they were the ones that found the problem. Well, it was Friday and all of management was going to be off for the weekend. So Monday they will go through 5 consecutive units at the time he said that he did his checks. If they find any good board at that time he could have checked one of those boards and likely shouldn’t get in too much trouble. If they find some good units and then they get bad we have a whole new set of problems, because there might be some sabotage going on in the mill. I hope for my Tech’s sake that they find at least some good board. Now here is where I might have pissed my boss off. He says to me that he doesn’t know if he can trust my tech at this time because we currently don’t know if it was him that messed-up, so he wants me to “shadow” him over the weekend. I said hold-on a minute and what exactly are they asking of me. Do they want me to make sure that he is doing his checks at the right times or do they want the to put a tape measure and micrometer in my hands and actually double-check all of his measurements. The 2 QC people stepped-up and said that yes that would make them feel better while they are gone for the weekend. I said that I didn’t mind doing my job and give him some extra supervision over the weekend so we all know he is doing his checks, but I wouldn’t check his numbers because that isn’t my job. Kurt asks me what exactly am I trying to say. I said that my job is to supervise not do people’s work for them. I said what if the numbers over the weekend end up out-of-specs, who is going to be held accountable for that? I am, that’s who, I said. I told them that I didn’t need anymore stress in my job or responsibility or accountability. I said that I should have the exact same responsibilities as all 3 other Sup’s. I said that my Tech has done his job for 5 years now and that he is certified to do his job, but I would keep a close eye on him for the weekend. I said, but come next week, anything that you expect out of me, that the other Sup’s better have the same responsibilities because we all have the same job descriptions or otherwise it is discrimination. The meeting pretty much ended right there or real so after. The QC lead and I were told that we could leave. Craig told me that he was sorry for suggesting it outside.

OK, here are the issues that are swimming through my head and stressing me the fuck out. I am on my last leg. My Boss and Kurt repeatedly tell me that I am the best Sup that we have and I meet all my goals every year and no one has ever been hurt in my 5 years running my crew. But, I always have one negative comment every year though. Ash has a problem with professional communication, especially with management. And I admit that I did. I used to just snap in meetings and get red-faced and yell and argue and overall just be a dumbass. Kurt would say that I usually was right or at least had valid points; it was just the way that I expressed those points. I couldn’t help myself sometimes. I now know it was when I was having an episode. Once I was put back on days as a relief Sup for 8 months or so after one of my outbursts, because they said that I was likely stressed due to production concerns, because most of my outbursts were due to downtime issues that I felt I shouldn’t have incurred for whatever reason. Almost losing my job due to my then unknown mental illness and the anger and extreme paranoia is why I originally went to my Dr and asked for happy pills. He gave me anti-depressants, which we later found out was making me more depressed likely. He told me that he wanted me to see a psychiatrist and I said hell no, I’m not crazy dude; I just have an anger problem. Later on I did it again because I couldn’t help myself and almost lost my job again. They told me that they already had enough documentation to but they wanted to work with because I am good at what I do and that my people highly value and respect me. When they put me back on days most of the crew went up front together and said that they didn’t want to lose me as their Sup. Sadly, they said that I did get upset sometimes, but knew when I was in a bad mood and stayed away. Sadly, because people had to walk on egg-shells around me at times, not because they said it. They said that they couldn’t continue to let me act the way that I did and they were going to give me one more chance. I then realized that my meds just weren’t doing it for me so swallowed my pride to support my family, and I called my Dr and asked him to set me up with a shrink. He immediately diagnosed me and started my meds. It has been a long road with my meds. I had to take sick leave twice in the last 2 years for a week or so each time because my meds just weren’t stabilizing me. So basically I have to watch everything that I say now, because I am under a microscope and constant scrutiny. If my comments pissed him off he might try to take my job. I wasn’t argumentative and never raised my voice; I just stated my opinions on what I felt was unfair and biased responsibilities being added to my job. I honestly can’t take the added stress and if all other sups don’t share in my added accountabilities it is in my opinion, unfair and discrimination. C-crew had the same exact thick lap issue a month ago and his Sup was never asked to mic his boards. Because I was once a QC Tech doesn’t give them the right to add it to my job title. I haven’t worked in the lab in 7 years now; I am no longer certified to do those tasks. Anyway I am very worried that he didn’t like me making demands and probably not in front of others. Maybe he will take it as a slight to his authority, because he is like that. It is all about his image.

Here’s some of my conspiracy theories that have been plaguing my thoughts. I was recently offered a job by Kurt. It is like a project manager who uses Lean Six Sigma theory to perform cost saving projects by reducing bottle necks in systems and processes. It is a temporary position lasting 2 to 3 years. It is a gateway job which opens the door to getting high paying corporate positions. He said that who he replaced his current Black Belt with reflects totally on him. He said that only a very few people in the mill had the requirements to perform the tasks of this job. He said that I was likely the smartest person at the mill and had the necessary intellect and skill to perform this job. I talked with him about the position. I would have to travel a lot for training and seminars and giving presentations before small and large groups, and ultimately have to move after 2 or 3 years to Nashville at Corp Headquarters or some other place. I told him that I really appreciated his comments and his faith in my skills and that they were very uplifting and humbling. But I was honest with him and told him that my kids were already established in school here and my wife’s mother was ill and that I couldn’t see her leaving her, so I doubt that I would take the position and uproot my family. I told him that maybe I would take it the next time it opened up in a few years. He told that he had a very short list of other potentials to look at and for me not to make any steadfast decisions yet and just think about it, talk it over with my family, talk it over with Joe (current Black Belt), and get back him at a later date. My life and I decided not to take the offer so I never talked to Joe. I started also to see through the lines here and figured that Joe wanted to stay in town and if a salary job opened up he would have to relocate. Joe is also related in some fashion to Kurt. A week later while checking my mail in the front office he saw me and called me into his office. He tells me that he had decided that I was the one for the job and had I given it any more thought. I once again told him that I didn’t think it was in my current life plan. He said that he was afraid that he had alluded to the fact that I could just patiently wait around to take the job next time. He goes into how our business is doing poorly and that there is no guaranty how long our mill would be around. He goes on to say that the more skills that I have the more options I would have available to me. He tells me that he knew that I hadn’t talked with Joe yet and both of them thought I was a perfect fit for the job. I bet he did! He told me to talk with Joe and my family again and rethink it. Joe came to my office the next day or so and hung-out until everyone left and we talked about it. I didn’t even ask him what he does because I already had a pretty good idea, so instead I told him why I didn’t want the job. He told me that he was feeling the same way. That he was single when he took the job, but now he had a wife and a baby and that he didn’t want to leave the area. He left and I haven’t talked to Kurt about it in the month since.

These are the tumultuous thoughts that are currently scrambling my brain. I have a little paranoid conspiracy theorist gremlin living in my head and he won’t leave me alone. I hope that I don’t have to post that I lost my job in the next few days. We will see.

Later, spazzing Ash out…

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 5

2007-10-25T14:53:00.000-07:00

Then came 7th grade. 7th and 8th were in the same school with the high school. Sadly for me we were integrated back into regular classes. Back with the regular kids and many different classes. I became 13 year’s old, hit puberty, and I started getting in trouble and quickly was welcomed by the bad crowd. I began smoking and my parents started buying them for me. I started skipping school regularly, doing drugs, drinking, and sleeping around. Because of course where are you going to find girls that age to sleep with but the bad crowd? The first time I had sex was with a 14 year old girl that had a reputation for sleeping around with everyone in her neighborhood. I will tell this small story as cleanly and nicely as possible. She had always liked me and asked me out often and went as far as befriending my sister in hopes of being around me frequently and making me cave at some point. She wasn’t the kind of girl that my friends would have approved, even though many had also slept with her. Plus, I really just didn’t like her that way. My best friend at the time James was a little older and had a girlfriend. She was a friend to his girlfriend and we went over to her uncle’s house because no one was home. I knew what was going to happen. We were watching a porno with John Holmes in it and smoked some pot. They went upstairs to have sex and that left her and I alone. We started fooling around and got undressed. I got to touch and see a naked girl and touch her all over for the second time. The first time was a few months prior during the previous summer when one of my sister’s friends stayed over. I told her that I couldn’t have sex with her because I didn’t have a condom and she told me that her mom had put her on birth control pills and that it would be OK to not use one. I wasn’t only worried about pregnancy. I had already taken Sex-ED and was sickened by the pictures of STD’s that they showed us. I had always promised myself while watching those films that I would always wear one, and I still had the one they gave me in class. I had just forgotten the wrinkled-up, well-worn, small square package that day. I was very afraid and was shaking badly. I tried to back out because I was so afraid of the act and pregnancy and diseases, but she kept prodding me, that we were already naked and I was standing at attention anyways she said with a sly smile. I knew that if I didn’t, I would end up getting ridiculed by my peers and I had a reputation to uphold. I had always said that I was a virgin with a joking air, when asked in my co-ed group of slightly older kids that stood across the street from campus in the mornings before school and lunch breaks and smoked cigarettes. No one believed the truth because they weren’t I guess. Anyways I fought away my fears and got on top of her and she put me inside her. I hadn’t expected it to feel so much different from my hand that I was already quite used to and I went inside her very soon after. I couldn’t find the power to move my body afterwards and pretend that I hadn’t went. She finally said that she was going to put some music on to give me a rhythm. I was totally embarrassed at my ineptitude and when she got up I went to the bathroom and washed myself up. I just knew that she knew and that she would tell everyone. I came out and grabbed my clothes and told her that I finished myself off in the bathroom and lied and said I was already late getting home and that I was going to get in trouble. She asked if it was something that she did wrong and I said no. I finished dressing and left. One of my friends Brian was riding his bike by the house as I walked out on the porch. I got on my bike, while he stopped and waited for me. He stated that I slept with her, to which I lied and said that I was going but that she stunk so bad when she took her pants off that I just left. This was totally a horrible thing to do to anyone, especially to this troubled low self-esteem girl. But at that moment my 13 year old mind was looking for damage control and that was the first thing that popped into my head to say that would counteract all the things that I was worrying about at that second. It was a preemptive strike in case she started rumors about sleeping with me and my premature ejaculation. It was wrong, but I was scared and I was a bad kid inside and I was 13. He seemed surprised and revealed to me right there that he had slept with her the last time a week prior and that she didn’t stink then or any other time. I asked him if he used a condom. He said hell no, that he would never use one, that he had slept with her for a long time and she had never gotten pregnant because she was on the pill. I was relieved to hear that she didn’t lie about the pill and figured if nothing else he would think it was his kid. She didn’t get pregnant. But I was worried that maybe she had given me an STD because she was so promiscuous, although I never had any signs. I worried about that for two whole years before I finally came to terms that I didn’t get anything from her and because of that fear I always wore a condom until after I got with my wife and we started trying to have kids. I then started riding the miles home when my mom, who was coming home from work, stopped on the side of the road and tried to pick me up so I didn’t have to ride all the way home. I was ignorantly worried that I smelled of sex and she would catch me so I told her I just wanted to ride my bike. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so I put my bike in the trunk of the car. I huddled against the passenger door window the whole ride home as far away from her as possible trying to keep the smell of sex to my side of the car and thought about how badly that had went and the fucked up luck it would be to become a father the very first time I ever had sex. She did try bragging at school that she had slept with me not even mentioning my poor performance, but the guys all believed my story, which Brian’s big mouth told the very next day. The girls believed her and said as much, and gave me shit for sleeping with her; they knew how guys would deny sleeping with someone. I always denied it. She stopped me a few weeks later while I was riding home. She told me that she had liked me for a long time and that the rumors had really hurt her. She seemed most hurt that I denied our encounter. She asked if she really stunk and I told her no and lied that Brian had made that whole thing up himself. She asked if there was anyway we could be together. I told her no and we parted ways and she never came over to see my sister again. I was happy to not have to face her anymore. Brian soon got me into huffing. The majority of the time it was gas, but I sniffed everything from paint thinner to Scotchgard waterproofing. We started skipping and would get in and old VW Bug in his backyard and take turns with the gas can. The big kick was the hallucinatory dreams that the fumes would deliver. As you would come back from the dreamworld to the waking world both would meld together as sounds slipped in. Your face and body would begin to tingle as you sniffed; it was probably brain cells dying. I always got a terrible headache afterwards and would often cough until I threw-up. I think I only did it for a month or 2, before I quit. It was quite addicting and I found myself missing more and more school. I was also sniffing butane in my room at home that I tricked my mom into buying for me for a refillable lighter. I quit cold turkey one day when I skipped and when leaving another skipping kids house, I snuck into his shed outside and started sniffing gas. I woke-up hours later and walked outside. It was already dark and I could see his family in the window eating. I don’t know if the small shed filled-up with fumes or what, but I figured that I was lucky that I didn’t die that day. I got on my bike and rode home in the dark and never did it again. One other thing happened around this time that also drove me to lose my faith in God. I had a dog named frisky; he was a mutt and was a small black dog with a white blaze on his chest. I loved that dog; he slept with me every night and was a comfort to me. He was the one thing in that house that kept me happy and whole. We had actually picked him and his brother up as we were driving our stuff to our new house when I was in the forth grade. We drove by a house with a free puppy sign out in the front yard and my sister and I talked my dad into getting them for us because we were moving to the country. He turned the U-haul around and we each picked out a pup. Not long after we got them, they went under the house and tore-up the heating and air ductwork. My dad was so pissed that he drove a few miles down the rode and dropped them off at the dump. I got home from school and was devastated. 3 days later my pup Frisky showed back up and my dad said that I could keep him because he must have really wanted to be with us. I had him for a few years and during that time he almost died twice. Once a car ran over him but the wheels didn’t hit him and he just rolled under the car because he was so short. The second time one of Rick’s horses kicked him in the forehead. It cut him open and his eyes turned blue for a week before they turned back brown-black. He always had a scar on his forehead after that. One day my dumb sister, who had a boyfriend in town decided to walk all those miles to go see him. She let my dog follow her. When she left that night she forgot about him and got a ride home. I got my mom to drive back to his house and we drove around the blocks but couldn’t find him anywhere. There was a bad thunderstorm that night and he was deathly afraid of thunder and lightening. I drove my bike into town every day for 2 weeks and went door to door but couldn’t find him. I was very depressed and distraught. On Wednesdays at church people would get up and tell their testimonies. I went with my parents that night. I got up and told the congregation about losing my dog. I cried as I told my story. As we were leaving a guy called to me. He came up to me and told me that while praying for me, that God had come to him and said that he would deliver my dog back to me. He said that he saw my dog running towards my house as he prayed and that when I got home my dog would be there. I wanted so much to believe him. On the way home I hoped and prayed the whole way while I cried my loneliness to God. And obviously I wasn’t greeted with my wagging dog when we drove into the yard. One last hope was that my sister had already let him in the house, but no, Frisky was gone from me forever. That hurt me badly. I still don’t understand why that asshole did that to a 13-year-old boy wanting so much to see his best friend again. I truly hope he pays dearly for getting my hopes up just to break my heart once more. At the time I hated him and I just couldn’t understand why God had taken my dog and didn’t let me have him back after what that zealot did to me. It just didn’t seem fair.

What am I?

2007-10-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

I wrote this when I was first diagnosed. I already posted it back when I first started this blog. I have added a poem list in my sidebar. This poem was at the bottom of a long post so I am reposting it so it goes right to the poem when the link is clicked.

What am I?

Through the years my tears swelling,
mind-raping, my madness escaping.
Insane, inhumane. Sane, humane.
Hi. Low. Where to go.
I’m here today, what a boon.
Duality, Introspection,
Hyde’s erection, in my life. Strife.
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
I feel creative. Free-ranging thought flowing.
Thoughts spinning, mind’s winning.
No sleep. Not one peep.
Bad judgment, money lost,
shopping spree, at what cost?
Needless, worthless, mirthless,
heedless, sleepless, reap less.
I can’t get up today.
Dark outside. Dread, drear, dead.
Thoughts keep running. Halt, stop.
I need the sun. Warmth, light.
Fog is thick, never knew I was sick.
Knew something was wrong, amiss.
Had to say sorry a lot.
Chemical embrace.
Where’s my ace? What is this place?
Insanity, let me free.
Journal now, to remember who I am, was.
I’m changing, mind’s rearranging.
Thought expanding, demanding.
Am I babbling yet? Just turn me off. Click.
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Paranoid. Dreaded void. Only grows deeper.
Are they out to get me? Ha. Right?
Never thought I was crazy, figured I was just lazy.
Procrastination was a way of life. Rife.
Friends wane. Time fades.
It always rains, (Autumn,) then comes Winter.
Cabin fever, snow blind. Can’t hide.
Get me off this ride. Sliding down, losing grip.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Letters backwards now. Ha.
Never knew I was crazy,
thought I was just lazy. Who cares! Right?
Anger rolls. Relationships halt.
Is everyone so incompetent? Yes? Yes!
Or is it just me? Or is it I?
Irritation, aggravation, agitation,
Can’t you see, what they’re doing to me?
The train’s jumped the tracks, how to get back?
Never realized my mind’s eye was blind.
I’m lost in myself, the corners’ so dark and different.
My eyes can’t open anymore. I’m tore.
I’m babbling? Idea dabbling, rambling,
brain’s scrambling. See?
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Manic Monday. That’s how it went? Right?
Anger’s back and he’s livid.
Always just thought I was just moody.
Maybe I am anyway. Today, or for life? Rife.
Everyone thinks I’m arrogant, ignoring them.
I’m not. merely losing focus.
Thoughts spinning, internal commotion.
Hocus-pocus I lost focus.
What was I discussing? Please stop fussing,
it seems so loud. It’s getting crowded in there.
It’s tragic, yet magic. Ha. Right?
I haven’t slept for days.
Brain’s swelling, mind’s rebelling.
Fog’s thinning, manic’s winning.
Sleep wanes, invention gains.
Darkness falls again. I can’t win.
Sadness ensues. I lose.
What a ruse. Madness, rues.
Thought these pills were supposed to work.
It’s just a quirk, Chemical Imbalance, if you like?
Have to get you regulated. Sedated.
So you don’t get aggravated.
Treat my family right.
There’s the light.
Spring’s here. Isn’t it queer,
that, that’s enough to make me happy?
Snow’s melting, thoughts pelting.
Looney, Lunacy, so lonely. Ha. Right?
Where’s my head at? Did I forget that?
Alienation, starvation, indignation,
I need a summation, of my illness.
See if a pattern develops,
before darkness envelopes, my life. Strife.
Mental swell-ups, flare-ups, relapse. Collapse.
Back on Earth, the followers are happy, laughy.
Why, oh why, ain’t I? Normalcy please.
I need release. Thoughts never cease.
Thoughts are strange. In need of change.
The gallows’ wire, Hangman’s ire,
no, I’m not there yet. Ha. Right?
There’s the light!
Summer’s here. Ain’t it queer,
that I’m so happy to see the sun.
Feel the warmth on my cheek.
I can see the motes in the rays,
hear them calling better days.
Fog’s lifting, thinning, I’m winning.
Time to get out this bed, clear my head.
The thoughts are coming so fast.
What was I talking about?
Switchback. Brain-ache. Numb pain.
Zombie, lethargy, chronic fatigue,
thinking in mud, I’m a dud.
That’s how it feels today.
Insomnia calls, knothole walls,
descrying shapes, faces, all the flaws.
Counting sheep sucks.
Closing my eyes opens my mind.
Please keep it down in there.
It’s ugly in here. In need of repair. Ha. Right?
Scenario after Scenario,
pours forth from my pillow.
Make it stop, sleeping pills pop.
Sweat pours forth from my pores,
as my mind soars.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Thoughts come so fast I can’t keep up.
The babbling brook overflows.
That’s how it goes. Ha. Right?
Do I really need to get up today? Can I?
Info slows and so do I.
Humiliation, insubordination, contagion,
pestilence of my mind, bane of my brain.
Switching quicker now, I realize to my dismay.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Try to trick my mind, to no avail,
mood music and TV wail.
Still can’t sleep. Dark shrouded lids,
portray my defiance of the sandman.
The epic nightly struggle for supremacy.
He must win in the end. Hopefully soon.
The raving raven raves and smiles.
Smiles that defiant smile. Did I forget to smile?
I’m now close to the grand defile. I won’t let go!
Pride and resolve must be absolved,
before I fall. Sleep or death, my last breath.
Who am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Neurotransmitters, exacting in their discontent.
Never knew what they were, this week’s a blur.
Bipolar. What a wondrous euphemism.
Disorder, chaotic, Catatonic. Ha. Right?
What am I? Tears well, swell. Fell.
Bipolar.
What am I?
What am I?

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 4

2007-10-19T00:39:00.000-07:00

We then moved to another town during the middle of my 4th grade year. It was a whole new experience for me. I went from living in a city to a poorer school district. Plus, now I lived outside of town in the country. I was never well off no matter where I lived, (we were always lower middle class,) it was just that the school system was better; not that I utilized it or realized it until I left. I was the only white kid on my bus. My sister stopped riding early on because of our mistreatment by the black kids. The high school rode on the same bus as the elementary students. I would get thumped in the head, picked on, intimidated, and called racial slurs. I stuck it out and soon gained the respect of my bus mates with my humor. Sometimes it’s good to be funny. After that no one ever messed with me at school because all of my black friends stood by me even when I wasn’t around. Not that I was ever violent; I always had a way of using humor to quell any antagonism. But even when that didn’t work no one wants a piece of you when it is about to get out of hand and from nowhere half a busload of kids of all ages pops up and asks if anyone has any beef with me. It’s weird how circumstances change: one minute they hate; the next they are my brothers and sisters. Yes, sisters, there were actually a few chicks on my bus that even the guys didn’t mess with. I guess I can say one thing positive that I did get from my father – or than his genes, OK, maybe not the BP one – was his respect for all races. He had many black friends while I was growing up, as did I from that year on. If you said the N-word in my house, it probably would have been the last word you ever said. The evil bastard for some reason had ethics in that department. Anyone and everyone was accepted in my house. I am thankful of that at least. Back to the story. I started afresh, but I brought along my evil ways. I was right back in trouble because of my mouth, disruptiveness, and class antics. In the 6th grade I continued getting into trouble as usual. This time when I sat with a newly hired principle, she said that she had never heard a kid my age speak so articulately and give such rational excuses for misbehavior. She said that she thought she knew what was going on. She thought that I was bored with my curriculum. She had people come in a give me an IQ test. I tested so highly that she immediately removed me from my regular classes and put me in a small class of academically gifted students. I’m sure those teachers were glad to see me go. My dad seemed proud of me for a change. Can you image the rebel, who was against all authority, being put into a class of rich, white, preppie, nerds? I still remember them asking what my dumbass was doing there right in front of me. I was the epitome of wrongness in their eyes and opposite of what they considered themselves to be. Hell, I was the kind’a kid that picked on them for God’s sake. They were truly flabbergasted, appalled, and threatened by my mere presence. The teacher told them that I had scored higher than most of them to get into her class. It was an oddly structured class with the highest quality curriculum. I learned so much that second half of the year. I still don’t find it fair that those few privileged students had access to a better education than everyone else. I actually became friends with those kids and with their acceptance I didn’t get in trouble again at school that year. But as luck would have it, I met a kid named Rick across the street from my house that year. He was a year older than I and he got me into some bad things. I didn’t see him a lot because he was rich and he went to a top-tier private school in Raleigh and had to commute daily. His mom had her own business in Raleigh and they didn’t get home until like 9 pm every night. But every day that we weren’t in school, we were together. I lived with them from Friday night until I went home on Sunday evening. We started going into work with his mom on Saturdays and hanging out in the mall that was across the highway from her workplace. He taught me how to shoplift and not get caught. We began shoplifting all kinds of things, but mostly clothes. I actually had the nicest school clothes ever starting that next fall.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 3

2007-10-17T19:21:00.000-07:00

Once I hit NC I became a total piece of shit. Yes, at 5 year’s old. I now know that it was me acting out to the abusive home environment; my way of coping. Shit, if I was going to get beat at home for nothing, why not be bad at school. I got attention from kids because I was disruptive and the class-clown. I got suspended from school at least once every year from kindergarten until I quit in 9th grade – most years I was not allowed at school for weeks or months. I got expelled from 3 schools – that is where you are never allowed to go there again, at least not that year. I had to live with relatives and friends so I could go to a different school district. My records always went with me, and anything that happened, it was always blamed on me, rightly so in most cases I will admit. I now feel sorry for all those teachers. Shit, once a teacher hit me in the head with a teacher’s addition math book, which made a pencil that I was holding point-up, impel me deep into my upper-lip, and cause stitches. Hell, I was only a 2nd year 2nd grader at that time. I failed 2nd grade the first time due to not being able to read on a third grade level, due to my incompetent parents that wouldn’t read with me. OK, that and for bad grades due to getting in so much trouble. You see, when you’re suspended you aren’t usually allowed to make up that work and you get 0’s on all of that work. And there is no bringing up grades with tons of 0’s let me tell ya. If I have a 100% on one paper and a 0% on the next, that is only a 50% average, and that damn sure ain’t passing. Could you imagine me not having the ability to read proficiently? I can’t. Sheer neglect. I felt ashamed because everyone that I knew was in a grade higher than me. I don’t think that I ever truly recovered from that.

By the 4th grade even my dad gave up on me and told me as much. He told me that there was no reason to waste his time trying to discipline me anymore and that I was a waste of space. I received my last spanking when I broke into or Elementary School that summer, which was closed down for restoration. I was hanging with an 8th grader. I obviously got caught. The police threatened to send me away, but come on, where do you send a 9 year old! They put in cuffs and took me down town in the back of the cop car. I roamed the streets with any free time to not have to go home and my parents didn’t care as long as I got home 15 min. after the streetlights came on. I smoked my 1st cigarette at 5, which my best friend Jason and I stole from his mom.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 2

2007-10-15T09:22:00.000-07:00

While living in Ohio, where his parents lived, when I was 3 or 4, we once went to visit his mother, my Grandmother. It was summer and I was dressed in long pants and a full-sleeve shirt. She knew something was amiss. She made me undress right in front of them and I was black and blue over my whole body. She berated my father and told my mother that she would pay to send her back to NC to her family if she would leave him. She didn’t. She said that it was the first time he had ever gotten out of hand and beaten me, but I really don’t know for sure. I never remember getting abused to that extent after that. In fact I don’t remember that incident, but my grandma told me about it and my mom verified it to me. I kind’a hate my mom, other than the unconditional live that I can’t help, for being so weak and allowing my father to mistreat her, but especially for not thinking of us first. I have never witnessed him hit her to this day, but my mom’s family thinks he has; mental abuse is bad enough. They knew him back when they first got together and when I was too young to remember; before he moved her to Ohio to isolate he from them. She has always stuck up for him no matter what he does. My sister took care of me most of the time while we lived in Ohio and she was only 7 year’s old when we left. My parents were always gone all hrs of the night bowling or drinking with their friends. Sometimes earlier on we did have baby-sitters. My sister and I were always terrified of the house because a man had died in the basement, which is why they got a good deal on it in the first place. We were all right alone until it got dark. Then we stayed away from the kitchen because that was where the basement door was. We peeked in the kitchen a lot just to make sure it was still shut. One afternoon when I was 4 or 5, I was helping my sister put the chain back on her bike in the kitchen. Like the kid that she was, she started peddling as soon as the chain was on, which just happened to be before my fingers were clear. My pinky went around through the sprocket. It was split wide open with the meat and skin hanging. It was black with grease. She had to call the bowling alley and get my parents to come home from their drinking, or him at least his. I never have seen mom drink, but I think she did back then. I remember screaming and crying and my sister actually being motherly for a change as we waited for them to get home. I had to get stitches that night and a nurse gave me a soft Snoopy doll with a zippered compartment in the back. I slept with that dog for years until it fell apart. I required stitches again that same year. At a neighbor kid’s birthday party, his older brother and a friend put me on their house’s roof because I was apparently pestering them. They wouldn’t let me down. I cried but they just laughed, so I jumped. I didn’t break anything but I fell into a pile of boards and a nail cut the top of my scalp wide open. They suddenly showed some concern and took me into the house where the parents were all partying. I still remember all those women’s faces. My parents didn’t have a lot of money and my dad tried to take care of it himself for a few hours before he realized that it just wasn’t going to stop bleeding and I wasn’t ever going to stop crying. I got shots and stitches that day. Shortly before I moved when I was 5, I almost got kidnapped walking alone to school with my same-age friend Danny. A van pulled up behind us in a parking lot right beside school and started calling to us to come there. We said no and started to run. We were taught that at school. The side door opened and a man jumped out and chased us before we had even made it a few steps. He chose and grabbed one of us and luckily it was Danny. I never stopped running or looked back and was inside the school within seconds as I remember it. I told the teacher what had just happened and that it was a van and its color, which I don’t now recall. I kind’a remember talking to the cops too, but I’m not sure if that was a real memory or not. They were caught sometime that same day and Danny was recovered, I think it was within 2 hrs or so. I don’t know If they did anything to him. Oh yea, almost forgot, I was molested by a 13-year-old neighbor girl when I was 5. (The same great family of kids that put me on the roof.) Thanks for leaving me with only my sister to watch out for me; I really appreciate that mom and dad. I still remember feeling the strong urge to pee while she fondled and made me rub myself against her genitals. I don’t really think it affected me mentally, but hey what does a 5 year old know. Maybe it was why I was so sexually active as a teen. I don’t know how many times she did it, I only remember her dad catching us and how mad he was. Hey one solace; at least it wasn’t a guy. My 5th year was pretty eventful and traumatic for a little kid. Luckily I lived through it. We moved to NC in the middle of my 5th year.

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part One

2007-10-12T15:29:00.000-07:00

As I read your blogs I find that most of you have God in your lives to help you through the bad times. I wish I had God. I used to know God when I was young. It would be nice to have someone stronger than you, that through faith in Him, you could lay your problems before and He would help support your weight and carry you until you could once again hold your own. I wish I had that. You see, God and I don’t have a good relationship anymore. We have lost each other somewhere. Hell, I don’t know if I even believe in Him at all anymore. I really feel that He isn’t out there any longer; at least not for me anyways. Put it this way, I want God in my life. Man I wish he were here when I needed Him, but He’s not in my grasp any longer. I truly wish I had my wife’s infallible faith, yet not by the means in which her and her family received theirs. When she was a kid her older sister had a rare type of cancer in mid-childhood. After a long struggle they were told that the chemo didn’t work and ultimately were told that she wouldn’t make it threw the night. Everyone, I think, gave up hope except her mom and her strong faith in God. The next morning she was totally healthy and she no longer had cancer. Still to this day she doesn’t. They all learned that He was real that day. But my life didn’t guide me towards an undeniable miracle to solidify my Childhood faith. I lost mine. I think my father’s relationship with God has destroyed my faith. I’m not one of those people that place blame on others for my flaws, but in this case I guess maybe I am. Let me explain. My father is actually a preacher. He wasn’t always, but he is now. The thing is, my father has always been a mean, evil person inside, or at least he used to be. You know, I think that in my subconscious as a teen, my mind decided if God could love him and let him represent Himself to the flock, which we all are, that God himself mustn’t truly exist. I am currently still on the fence with this one. I don’t know if I actually believe that he is out there or if I’m an unwilling atheist. What a horrible word. My elderly grandmother would jerk me up by the ear if see read this and likely move up here the 1000 miles and pray at the foot of my bed nightly until my soul was cleansed and I changed my views. I wouldn’t put it past her. I wouldn’t want to see the tears that I would cause her.

I was raised in church you see. My mom has always been deeply religious, as were her parents, my grandparents. We were a close family. A lot like a stereotypical southern black family, which are very spiritual, keep all their kin close, and would support and do anything for their family. I miss that. I think our family’s deep spirituality and tight family structure stems from both my grandparents being children of immigrants and their parents’ strong beliefs that they brought with them to this country. My grandma’s parents where Turkish and my Grandpa’s father was from Spain and I’m not totally positive but I think his mother was French. My dad’s heritage is Scottish, Irish, English, and German. So as you can see I am a very multi-racially faceted person. Imagine all that rolled-up into a dark complexioned causation, with brown hair and blue eyes. Weird, but it’s me. My wife’s parents actually thought I was half Black or Mexican when they met me, especially after they saw my mother for the first time.

Anyways, I digress. More than 30 of us would show-up at my grandparents’ house and head to the Baptist church together. My dad never went to church and actually talked shit about it in front of us every chance he got. We all would then met back up along with a ton of other relatives after church and eat and visit one another. We were really close. It was like a family reunion every week. Growing up, my parents weren’t there for us, my mom’s family always was, but my parents acted as though my half-sister and I were holding them back from the things they wanted to really do. He is my real dad and my sister’s step-dad. They left us alone often when we were young. My sister was 2 ½ years older than me and took care of me most times, although she was very hateful and treated me like shit most of the time. She once purposely handed me a pan of hot grease and told me to put it in the sink and turn the water on, when I was every young, and laughed as I screamed when I was burned. I still carry a few small, discolored scars on my side, because like most small kids I hated to wear shirts. At least she fed me anyways. My mom was nice to us, but she just was very neglectful. Here’s a small example of how much they really cared about me. They only have 4 pictures total of me growing up: The 1st pic I am 2 or 3, standing by a merry-go-round; the 2nd I am also very young posing on my grandma’s porch with my sis and 2 cousins, all of us dressed in our Sunday church clothes; the 3rd is a middle school pic that actually has proof stamped on it. They didn’t even buy my school pictures. It was the one they send home so your parents can see what they will look like if they actually bought them; and the 4th is a charcoal portrait of my early teen visage done at a flee-market. The rest of my family own lots of pictures of me. It never really hurt me or bothered me until my wife and I first got together, back before we were married, and she asked my mom to show her my baby pictures. I had never really thought much about it until we left that night and my wife told me that it wasn’t normal.

Quick Facts: I was born in Charleston SC. At the Naval Base Hospital. My father was based there and it was where they met. Somewhere and somehow around that area anyways. He got out and moved us to his home state of Ohio when I was 1 year old. Most of my Mom’s family all relocated to NC while we lived in a small town there in Ohio. I spent most of my prepubescent summers living with different relatives to get away from my home life after we moved to NC. After growing up and talking will these different relatives, a few revealed that they had thought long and hard about trying to adopt me and raising me as their own, but in the end I always ended back up at home at the end of those loving summers. I spent most of my life when I was home and in the house, in my room, where I drew and read fantasy novels and lived in the fantasy world that I created in my mind. I have always been very artistic like most bipolar people seem to inherently be. My children both have my drawing ability, although my daughter really excels with her talent.

My dad was a very abusive man. I was beat daily for arbitrary minor things with slaps, punches, and belts. My dad once picked me up by my hair right off the ground and punt-kicked me in the ass into the house (hell, maybe it was football Sunday and he wanted a try-out with the Bears,) because I passed the hedge that constituted the boundary to our yard, because he told me not to leave the yard. I was one foot passed it standing on the sidewalk talking with my best friend at the time Jason. I didn’t men to leave the yard. I think I was 7 or so at that time. We both talked about it many times while growing up. I don’t even remember the beating that day, but the kick stays with me always, probably because it was done in front of my friend and humiliated me. We joked that it was why I had a cowlick in the back. He was even more mentally and verbally abusive. When I was growing up my dad was a biker and a drug dealer. He never had anything nice to say to any of us, my mom included. I really don’t know why she stayed, other than I can now see that she had a very low self-esteem. If we brought home a C on our report-cards we were spanked and grounded. Who cares about bringing home good grades, right? He was going to find a reason to slap me around that day anyways. I’m not looking for empathy here; I’m just trying to explain why my adolescent mind decided to hate God for loving this man. He is a big man – 6’4’’ – and has always used bullying tactics and intimidation to get his way even after becoming a preacher. He actually lost a few churches due to his abrasive demeanor and hate of anyone disagreeing with him. I think he is PB honestly. He has just recently finally went to a therapist and is on some sort of meds. How could you make it to 53 year’s old before you realize that you need help? The only person that had the balls to ever stand-up to this man other than me later in life, was my wife. He treated my kids and her like shit a few times too many and she washed her hands of him. I still visit and take the kids over to see him, but he isn’t allowed in my house any longer. My mom comes over to visit and often he is with her, yet must remain out in the car in the street. She said that through God she forgave him recently to get the hate that was weighing heavily on her heart, but she will never forget or give him another chance to mistreat her again. Therefore he still isn’t allowed over and I support her on this. As you already know, we split-up when a big argument over this issue escalated and I threw a can at her. You don’t fuck with my wife and especially not her kids.

He cheated on my mom at least once that I know of, back when I was a child and they split-up for a few days as I remember. I remember my mom pulling up on them with my sister and I in the car and trying to run him over. I recollect her screaming in rage and us screaming in fear. I recall that time slightly even though I was only 4 or 5 at the time. At that young age you can usually only recollect traumatic or very strong events, and for that powerful experience or emotion, it makes it into your long-term memory. My mom and sister along with her friend and her kids went to an Amusement Park and I was made to go with my father to his mistress’ house during this small and only split-up. I still remember this lady talking to me in a coddling voice and playing Rubber Ducky on the record player for me because I was so distraught over knowing that my sister was riding a roller coaster at the time. I still have never ridden a roller coaster. We had planned to go to Disney World last year before my wife’s unfortunate work injury. Anyways, we then moved from Ohio to NC, where my mom’s family lived – I’m guessing so they could make a new start after the adultery. This was probably a blessing in disguise, because it brought me for the first time to an extended family that loved me and always showed and meant it, and took me away from my isolated world of neglect and hate.

Prelude to My Life

2007-10-12T06:59:00.000-07:00

I will start posting a very long and in-depth piece today. It is way too long to put into one post. I will divvy it up in many small posts. I said at the start of this blog that at some point I would discuss my growing years. Well, that time is here. You will likely lose respect for me by reading this, but hey, did I really have anyone’s respect anyways? I will say that I left a lot as innuendo, just alluding to many facts because some things are so intense or foul that I didn’t want to repeat them in-depth. But you will get the gist early on that I was a very depressed and self-destructive person growing up. That I was a kid that you would dread seeing hanging-out with your child. You will see that even though I was shit most often, I did still have good heart occasionally. And the positive is how I got away from my early troubled existence to where I am currently at in my life and how well my family is doing despite how I was raised. If you ever have any questions because I failed to elaborate enough on any topic, do feel free to ask. No question will hurt me. I actually have found during the writing of my upbringing that it has proved therapeutic; some things, I really didn’t know had lived in the dark corners of my mind all these years. This post started out with me trying to understand how I had lost God in my life, but as I began to write, I came to realize it was much deeper than I had originally thought. It turned into telling my whole life story.

Tid Bits

2007-10-10T07:58:00.000-07:00

Growing up I always was afraid of the dark. I’m guessing it was because I had such a vivid imagination. My mind was skilled and morbidly demented enough to envision all the worst things that could be lurking in the dark I guess. I would get out of bed and turn the light back on every time I awoke. I also sleep with me eyes partially open so dreams seem to fade into my immediate surroundings allowing the creatures of my mind to stalk me. Throughout my life I have always had shades or hooded entities torment my dreamworld, chasing me but never quite catching me. When these dreams became frequent I often didn’t sleep until the dawn’s first rays came through my bedroom window. But I haven’t had these dreams in months now. The dark doesn’t really affect me anymore, except the occasional eerie twinge that spontaneously creeps up at times. I just push it away and remember that nothing bad has ever happened in the darkness in my 32 years and all seems right in the world again.

For those that have read all my posts, you know that I live in my own fantasy world. I need escape from the mundane world. I always have an obsession that occupies my thoughts. I don’t find that to be unhealthy, except when I become totally enthralled and become excessively introverted, thus neglecting my family and waking life. My mind is always turning. I am always thinking. My life isn’t bad but I always need more in it. I am never sated with just living. I need something that is always right out of my grasp. I never feel whole. So a book, RPG game, poker, internal fantasy realm, art, crafts, and so on, helps to feed that void that can never truly be filled. I honestly think it is a symptom of our disorder. Our minds are wired differently and I think that we require those escapes to cope with our internal struggles against the dark-side of our illness that wants to depress and harm us. Yet we must remember to compromise and balance our time as to not negligent the ones we love, all the while navigating that inner crevasse that threatens to consume us.

Update and a Dark Secret: Oooh Now That's a Title

2007-10-09T15:33:00.000-07:00

How’s it going all? I have been well. I haven’t had a lot of time to post or surf lately due to actually working at work the past few rotations. All the hrly workers were laid-off due to an extremely weak current housing market. That left some chores that needed doing while we are down. So obviously that leaves us salary Sup’s. Man that sucked. We still aren’t back up until next week, but all the work is complete.

Plus, I was on a business trip out of state last week. The guy that we were following took a wrong turn and our already long 9 hr drive there turned into an excruciating 12.5 hr ride. I felt like killing his ass. It was another Smoke School trip. This time I didn’t let it stress me out much. I ended up passing on the 2nd test, which was cool. I failed the 1st one by 1 mark. That sucked and I did start stressing slightly, but luckily I crushed the next test. I have to re-certify on these dumb tests semi-annually. I should buy myself a lap-top so I can play cards online during these trips. It would be better than blowing cash at the bars every night.

Oh yea, the other thing that is also currently taxing my time is Football. I live at Ash-boy’s practices 2 hrs an afternoon/5 days a week and games on Sat. So as you can surmise that doesn’t leave much time for anything else. Brag-time. I have always been half-ass coordinated and could at least kind’a compete at sports, but my son has a god-given gift athletically. He has always been one of the top players on all his teams. In Football, he has always been 1st string on offense, defense, and all special teams, no matter if he was the youngest or oldest on the 2 year teams. Shit, he often doesn’t even get a break. This year he is 12 and is in the 7th grade. He is huge. I wear 10 ½ shoes and while shopping for his school shoes a few months ago he had to buy 11’s. He also was on the A-honor roll all of last year, although he extremely anal about his work and worries way too much about his grades and loses sleep over it some nights. Brag-time over.

Mentally I still have been pretty stable over the last month. I still get manic off and on, but I still haven’t had any depressive episodes. That is a plus. I have had some days where I was uber irritated though. I have recently run out of my Lamictal. My P-doc’s office has some stupid automated script phone service. I was already off for 3 days before I called and it has been 3 days since and still no freakin’ pills at my local pharmacy. I will have to call again. My wife says that she can see a huge difference and that I am very cranky and irrational most days. I honestly can say that I have noticed it a few days myself. Voices are like nails on a chalkboard sometimes. I have screamed at the top of my lungs a few times. I have had to hide on occasions, because I couldn’t control my anger. I really need my meds I guess. Fuck, I was starting to thing that maybe I really wasn’t BP lately. I think I am on just the right amount of meds and for the most part they repress my rage and moodiness. But life couldn’t be that kind; I am still broken. I joked (kind’a) with the wife that maybe I really didn’t need meds anymore and that because they are so wearing on our current finances (Comp still being dicks) that maybe I should try living without them. But after my mood swings since being out of meds she told me to ~~fuck-off~~ drop that notion. If nothing else, I do see him next Monday. Stupid phone automation. Honestly as much as I hate that shit I can see using that system in some endeavors, but for the mentally ill? Come on normal people, use your healthy brains and make some fuckin’ sense for a change. Dumbasses. It’s like having a British nanny watch your toddler - It might work out, but then again, her remedy for a crying baby might be to shake it till it shuts up. (Not-so-recent news analogy.) Without my pills my mental health is going down faster than Idaho Senator Larry Craig in a Minnesota airport restroom. (Current news analogy and slightly less dark.)

I figured it would be best to end with a negative. (You see, I am learning a lot in my psychology courses. LOL.) I have a secret to tell you. Wait for it… wait for it. I never quit smoking; in fact I am puffing more than (I feel another Larry Craig comment coming on, which I will refrain from,) a pack a day. I do need to quit. I am ashamed. After my wife found out I lied and said I quit and hid it for a few weeks until she caught me, AGAIN. I was like a teenager sneaking around behind their parents’ back. I was ashamed but couldn’t stop. When she caught me she immediately went out and bought herself a pack. Damn, women seem to be inherently vindictive. Jokin’ – kind’a. Anyways, we both are now sneaking around hiding this dark secret from our 2 children like the addicted hypocrites that we have become. They will figure it out soon if we don’t get the strength to kick the habit soon. 8 fuckin’ years down the tubes. Maybe I will try taking to my physician. I don’t need sympathy; I need an ass-whoopin’. My parents would shit. Not that I really care too much what they think.

I am happy; just a little pissed at my weakness is all.

Oh yea, I am still living at right at 190lbs. 26lbs ain't all that bad. I can see Little-Ash hanging down there again. It's always nice to see an old friend. LOL. Ok, I'm done being immature now.

Later, Ash out…

BRB

2007-10-05T10:34:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the MIA. Everything is going well. I will post on Tues with a full update.

Later, Ash out...

Mini-post

2007-09-10T10:28:00.000-07:00

I’ve been doing fairly well since my last post. I have had a few manic episodes though. I have been quite irritable at times. I have wanted to scream at people during these manic moments, although I have for the most part held back. My crew has asked a couple a days a week lately if I was in a bad mood because I was very short and curt while answering their questions. A few days I was in uber spas mode: eyes wide and talking about whatever ever subject with excess ardor and just couldn’t shut the hell up. Poker is this there, although I am keeping with my pact to only play 2 hrs a day online and maybe a live game with the Boys ever few weeks.

Later, Ash out…

Weight Update

2007-08-23T13:54:00.000-07:00

I currently have hit 190lbs. That is 26lbs since I started my diet. My belly (did I just say Belly) umm, I mean stomach *deep voice* is still chubby, yet an ab workout isn’t in the shedule at the moment. I am happy though. It’s nice to be able to fit normally in your pants and not be so restricted that you have to shit 5 times a day. LOL.

Later, Ash out…

POKER

2007-08-23T13:48:00.000-07:00

My manic poker obsession has once again gotten the best of me. I figured to spend more time with my family I would play at night while they slept. Seems positive right? Na, I ended up playing all-nighters and sleeping the day away to the detriment of family time. It didn’t even enter my mind until my wife mentioned it. I’m really not observant sometimes. Well anyways, we have come to a compromise wherein I will play for only 2 hrs during the day and keep sleep schedules with the rest of the family. My wife and I think that is a good compromise. I will still occasionally be online at night due to my crazy work schedule, but the majority of the time will now fall on their time frame. I am happy with this as will they.

Belated Comments

2007-08-17T19:29:00.000-07:00

Anonymous Mom said...

it's good that you and your wife are able to discuss things.

quit calling her a bitch, you bastard.

i'm glad you two have each other. be open and honest ash! that's the best you can do! everybody screws up, you were quick with the apology and that counts for something. keep pluggin' along...

OUCH…bastard. That cuts deep. I don’t know who my father was. Naaa, just joking. I truly can be sometimes.

August 15, 2007 12:35 PM

katinkab said...

yeah when i was in the hospital, i started smoking again, cuz the mental health workers would call out smoke breaks every two hours. i'd go 2 or 3 times a day. so when i got out of the hospital, i ended up buying a pack. i still only smoke 2 or 3 cigs a day, but i found a 100% all natural tobacco brand that supposedly doesn't contain additives or chemicals. so i guess it is less hazardous than regular gas station cigs, but it is also expensive. i got them at a tobacco shop for $5.50 a pack.

Don’t delude yourself…all smokes are bad. The chemicals are only part of the adverse effects of puffing. You are putting smoke into your lungs which inflames the bronchi, bronchioles, and alveoli. I’m telepathically sending my support so we can both kick the habit.

August 16, 2007 1:59 AM

katinkab said...

p.s. what is your character's name on WoW? which server do you play on? i'm on Alleria.

My man is Dragonal. My server starts with AZ… that is as far as can remember at the moment and I’m currently working so I can’t check. I think I spend too much time doing quests and grinding. Ash-boy is only a few levels above me and he is over the map. Ash-girl keeps starting over in her quest to try out every race in WoW.

August 16, 2007 2:01 AM

onemeanmutha said...

when you feel like your going to burst, walk away.. words hurt. im glad you guys are able to talk it out though. sending good vibes :)

Ya, I know I should but this was instant anger. She was blaming me for something that I didn’t feel accountable for and she turned it to hurtful comments about my parenting skillz and love for my children. That pissed me off right now let me tell you. I might not be the greatest dad in the world but I love my kids more than anything in this world. We made up and both apologized for our transgressions.

August 16, 2007 5:26 AM

katinkab said...

i am totally addicted to wow. i have a hunter char, i can't seem to get her up to lvl 30. she's been at lvl 29 for like a week... grrrrrr... you should totally get the expansion set as well, they're actually coming out with another set sometime soon. anyway, i can't play wow all the time or i will be excessively obsessed. or some bipolar feature. my current meds are 600mg lithium and 300mg lamictal. i think adding the lithium to my cocktail has helped to stabilize me a bit. i'm still restless and agitated though. i've been self-medicating somewhat with cigs. it's such a bad habit.

I am pretty stable at the moment, although poker is starting to consume every waking thought. Football has started so that should calm down my obsessive tendencies.

August 6, 2007 10:19 PM

Butterfly said...

LMBO!

Hey is WoW provides and opp for father-son bonding, then I'm all for it (despite have NO clue as to what it is).

Enjoy.

Playing WoW leads to the darkside! LOL. Stay away because it will consume you to the detriment of your waking life. I have always used RPG’s as an escape from reality, like I used to with drugs and booze in my teenage years. This just happens to be one that is truly a world that you can live in. There isn’t much that you can’t do. It’s not all fighting and questing. But it does start many conversations with my children and that is always welcome.

August 8, 2007 11:34 PM

knicksgrl0917 said...

hey! i'm going to cali this weekend and won't be back until september...here is the website i was talking about where i made extra summer cash. Later! the website is here

SHUT THE HELL UP SPAMMER. My Voodoo doll currently has about 15 needles jammed into your genitals. Is your pee burning? It’s either my hex or you have the clap from some dirty skank that you gave a roofy. Pervert.

July 30, 2007 8:09 AM

katinkab said...

dude how can fat people be a "race"? that is the most ridiculous thing i've heard in a while.

Some people live life and never use their intellect to think about what they don’t understand. Once school is over their brain stagnates because they are unwilling to learn. Phrases and adages are the worst for these people. They say them wrong or out of context, usually because they heard them when they were young and never revisited them later on after they acquired the ability for critical thinking in adolescence. I’m sure I miss-say a few myself.
Funny example: We were playing poker one night and a friend brought his wife along. She won a big hand off of him and jokingly said that he was going to cow-cock her when they got home. She obviously meant cold-cock, but she had always thought it was stated cow-cock. And the jokes ensued. She was actually a good sport about it as we insinuated that she was into “barnyard relations.” He face was a solid red as she blushed the rest of the night. She has played once or twice since so it didn’t really bother her and she knew it was all in good fun.

August 6, 2007 10:10 PM

Butterfly said...

LMBO!! I agree!

How about making an island only for dumb people?

They’d breed themselves back to Cro-Magnon and likely revert to cannibalism.

August 8, 2007 11:35 PM

Thanks for the comments and my belated responses. And may your moods be stable.
Later, Ash out…

Hidden Posts

2007-08-17T17:46:00.000-07:00

My work Internet is retarded. When I bring up my site or your blogs it doesn’t update to your current posts. I have to hit refresh for it to update to your current posts. That is a large reason why I haven’t commented lately. I thought that you all stopped posting as of late. Anyways I now know what’s so I can start reading again. Also I didn’t know that you guys had left comments the last few weeks. It is nice to know that you are still with me.

My T-doc visit was weird. At the end she kind of parted ways with me. ??? I don’t know why. Maybe she thinks I am doing well enough that I don’t need therapy. She said that she would make an appointment for a month and that if I was doing well, to give her a few days notice, and just cancel. I really don’t know what to think. My wife thinks that I wasn’t open enough with her about my thoughts, moods, and feelings. I have made leaps and bounds with my anxiety attacks and ruminating negative thoughts.

I am finally done with my 1st course of my 2nd semester on my psychology studies. I minor in business and some of those courses are hard reading. This last one was Personal finance. Don’t get me wrong, I learned some invaluable things, but damn was it dry. It was all about taxes and loans and stocks and saving and investing for retirement. Shit that is a lot of Ands. I just started the new course. I am pretty excited about it. It is Human Development. Nurture and Nature. It traverses though the lifespan and our internal processes at each stage in life. Apparently we BP’ers all have some chromosome issues. Environment also might play a role in our disorder. It isn’t all heritability. One thing I can say for sure at this point is that Freud had some issues. LOL.

As an aside: we finally let Bandit go. She was getting too big and mischievous. It took us 3 times of dropping her off to finally go through with it. The first 2 times she kept coming back to the car al the while looking pitiful. We hope she can make it. It was a cool experience. Bye Bandit we love you. *Man tears!*

Also a few of you don’t seem to have blogs anymore. I hope you are doing well. If you changed sites, hook a brotha up with the addresses.

Later, Ash out.

What a Bad Boy I Have Been

2007-08-14T17:05:00.000-07:00

OK, since my last post I have not been doing too well. I am still pretty manic, especially with poker and WoW. But, the real problem is anger this week. I haven’t been able to get a handle on it. I have been yelling again. I feel the frustration building. Now that I realize it I should be able to counter the issue. Everyone aggravates me currently. The kids’ voices grate on my nerves. Ash-boy has really been irritating me lately. I’m not totally sure if it just my mood or if his teenage antics are the issue. Likely both. But I think the majority is me. I will accept responsibility for my actions. I actually called my wife a bitch today. That is something that I just don’t do. In our 14 years of marriage I can likely count myself calling her that on my fingers. I apologized but I still shouldn’t have done it, especially not in front of my kids. That just goes to show how bad I am and my current mood swing. I WILL control my anger.

Another thing that I have done that I’m not proud of is that I have been smoking lately. It all started early in the year. I would have a few squares while at poker parties while drinking. I then wouldn’t have another until the next game, which would be anywhere from two weeks to a month later. I figured that that wasn’t too bad. I didn’t hide this fact from my wife. Sadly this planted the seed in my addictive personality as well as giving my wife vindictive thoughts. You see we both quit 8 years ago. I was smoking 3 packs a day at that time. Well when we split-up for that week months ago she started smoking with the excuse of stress and the fact that I was puffing on occasion. I was pissed but I let her quit on her own. It took her a few months but she did it. During this same time I occasionally would bum one at work. Well it got the point that I was bumming a lot of smokes. Then I finally took the big plunge 2 weeks ago and bought a pack so I wouldn’t be a bumming punk. Then starting 2 weeks with that pack I lasted 3 of my 4 days working with that 1 pack. I then bought another and smoked my last day working and started sneaking 1 to 3 sigs a day on my 4 days off. Last 4 days at work I started smoking a pack a day. That whole 2 weeks as well as the occasional bummed smoke I was hiding from my wife. Like a teenage punk. Well after my last night she smelled it on me. We got into a big argument and talked for an hr or more. I quit that night and have been good for 4 days now. We both hid the smoking from our kids. We have been adamant with them on the detrimental effects of smoking and if they ever knew, we would be total hypocrites in their eyes and they might one day try them. So I will quit if for no other reason than for my kids.

BTW, that is not me;)

Later, Ash out…

Personal and Medical Updates

2007-08-06T08:02:00.000-07:00

Hey all. I still think I am regulated pretty well. I am stable for the first time in years. I have only had one really bad day as of late… OK, maybe two. On that day I was extremely irritable. Sound in general hurt my very being. Voices put me on edge. I screamed at the kids for the slightest perceived transgression. I couldn’t remove myself from the presence of the world. I was on a 6 hr road trip. But all in all I am doing well.

On the medical front my wife is recuperating finally. At least she finally has diagnoses after a year of torment. She had some medical and psychological issues. I’m pretty sure that I have written about her work related injury in the past here, yet I am too lazy to go back and check. Quick background She had a 20lbs box fall on her head at work. She started having tremors some after the accident. She lately went in and got some pain shots in her neck. Once they took affect they took her off the meds that she was on for the prior year. The tremors soon after stopped. One of the size effects of one of her meds was tremors. She was also diagnosed with posttraumatic stress and clinical depression. After a year with no relief or closure, who would be depressed? And just the other day we got the results back from a test that they preformed. They put some kind of dye in her spine and X-rayed. They found a displaced disk in her neck where she had pointed to the whole time. Comp stopped paying over 6 months ago because two neurologists concluded that she had no physical injuries from the accident and it was purely psychological. We disputed at that time and have preformed tests for the last 6 months, with us taking on a lot of the medical bills. To see one Dr we had to pay him $1500 up front. Anyways, her Comp should definitely be reinstated, plus pay retroactive back to when we contested their decision. So hopefully things won’t be so tight soon.

Later, Ash out…

More Crack For Ash

2007-07-31T00:59:00.000-07:00

OK, I’ve found a new obsession and I’m infected my son with my enthrallment. WoW. World of Warcraft for those that don’t know. Shit I actually didn’t play poker for 2 days this week. I downloaded the 10 day trail and I already know I will be a subscriber. My son and I used to play Runescape for hrs on end. WoW is actually a high-end version of Runescape. It is all I can currently think about at the moment. Shit, I’ve been cheating while at work by looking up info on the game and memorizing maps. I am done though. I don’t want to ruin the fun. I am currently a level 9 human warrior. That has always been my character ever time I have a choice in an RPG. OK, enough about that.

I really have been feeling well as of late. I almost feel like I’m not sick anymore. I think my meds are right in the zone. I am totally off of Risperdal now. I am on 300mgs of Lamictal and 300mgs of Seroquel. Seroquel has lost it’s hold on me, not making me eat every dose. I am now down to 193lbs. I was at 216 when I started my diet. I don’t really watch what I eat; I just eat smaller portions.

Later, Ash out.

GOSH

2007-07-30T01:50:00.001-07:00

New pet peeve: people that say racist when they mean prejudice. Ex: “That’s racist man, you shouldn’t pick on fat people.” OK then, let’s pick on dumb people because you’re in a race of your own. God, this aggravates the hell out of me.

A Little Prick

2007-07-23T10:19:00.000-07:00

Hey all. I am a little manic. I am having flights of thoughts racing through my gray matter. I am very talkative. I am alternating between happiness and irritation. I am a little touchy with dumb questions. My head almost feels tingly…or maybe that was all that crack I smoked. I can’t get cards out of my head at the moment.

I am proud of myself. After over a year of avoiding going in and getting my bloodwork done, and after going to the Dr and getting told to do it again, to which I have avoided it another month, I finally went in and did it. It wasn’t easy I’m telling you. I had to fast for twelve hrs, which I did while on night shift. That sucked. Being awake for twelve hrs and not eating anything truly is torture. Especially with the guys I work with. Knowing that I was fasting, they came in and ate in front of me and picked on me relentlessly. Plus since I divulged my fear of needles to them, they told me horrors stories and ridiculed me all night. What asses. Good natured, but it still sucked. I went in in the morning and as I sat waiting I started sweating, breathing heavy and having racing thoughts. I was light headed when I got up to follow the nurse. When we got in I was almost in a frenzied state. I told myself that I was just going to shut-up and go through with it, but I just couldn’t. I told her that I was very fearful of needles and if there was an easy way of doing it hat I would much appreciate that treatment. I felt like such a puss. I told her that I knew it was irrational to be scared but that I just couldn’t help it. She was very nice and coddled her little crybaby like I was a fragile toddler. She went back and forth between both arms trying to find a good vein so she didn’t have to dig me. She put it in and it didn’t even hurt. I felt like such a punk. God, what is wrong with me? I’m a grown damn man. Anyways it is over and I dealt with it

A Quickie

2007-07-13T19:37:00.000-07:00

I went to my T-doc appointment on Tues. It was an all right session, although I felt laid bare when I left. It really sucks telling someone personal details about your life and your insecurities and ineptitudes. I think it is a little harder for guys than girls. I’m not saying that it doesn’t feel awkward for women; I’m just saying that it is a scientific fact that women are more emotional and talkative than are men. Men find it hard to show certain emotions and talk about how they feel, due to it being received by our sex as being feminine or unmanly. As we progress in our talks, she is delving into my childhood and my early and teen environment. I had a shitty life growing up and I don’t like blaming some of my negative traits on how I was treated and raised as a kid, although I think there is credence and validity in that assessment. I see my father in many of my acts as a man. I have always fought to break the cycle, and in most was I have or at least made alleviated them due to conscience effort.

Another thing that she thinks is that I have a very addictive personality. She thinks that I am currently addicted to gambling. She isn’t too worried about it because it doesn’t cause too many negative aspects in my life. They as in first my T-doc and now my T-doc, always ask the same questions by rote, if you are spending more money than you should and different questions about using your family’s funds to support your habit. They both were very skeptical of my statements to the fact that I never us any of the family’s money whatsoever and that my earnings often supplement our income, especially since my wife’s income has been gone due to a work related injury. Both times I had to totally explain my whole system of poker bankroll money management. Of course I don’t mind telling this, because at both times I was enthralled with cards, and was just happy for the opportunity to talk about my obsession. I will say that on several occasions in the last few years’ poker has obsessed me to the point that I have become totally engrossed with it and it consumed me full-time. (Every waking hr.) I neglect my family, my health, my studies, and my life. Sadly it takes my wife to step in before I realize just how deep I have delved. This also happens with other things, IE, video gaming, especially RPG’s, and every other thing under the son at one time or the other. I have tried very hard to change this negative characteristic about myself lately. I try to play at night when my wife is going to bed or at least close to heading to dreamland. The kids and I stay up to the wee hrs of the morning watching Adultswim (Cartoon Network) together. I play cards and watch at the same time. This week on my days’ off here was my daily schedule: Get up at 4pm or so, get ready and go to for soccer games until 7:30pm or so, eat and spent time with Ash-wife and kids until 10 or 11, at that point play cards until between 4-6am and then go to sleep, and start it all again. My wife and kids sleep in every morning due to summer and late nights with dad, and then visit her parents on a daily basis, so while I’m sleeping they aren’t home much of that time anyway. That is my routine so you can see I am putting in some major hrs at the virtual poker tables. Although I admit that it is currently in control of my life, as I have played at some point every single day in the last 2 months, I think I am handling it well. The one thing I don’t like is that I find it consuming my thoughts quite often.

I think I am manic at the moment due to the excessive poker thoughts and finding a reason to talk about it to anyone that will listen. Often I think some of these people are merely being polite and really want me to shut the hell up.

I have found myself getting cranky more often. Sometimes noises are hurting me. They are tearing at my gray-matter. I need to get a handle on this before it gets worse. I think it is partially due to my manic mind.

I now weigh 195lbs. I am happy about this. My wife thinks I am being a little obsessed because I don’t often cheat and eat an extra portion or unhealthy treats. I think maybe he is right, but I eat sometimes at night while playing online poker, therefore she doesn’t see me eating as much while she is awake.

Here's a Few More

2007-07-10T16:30:00.000-07:00

Close-up. See the hands. Those are what aggravate me while sleeping!!

Fozzie and Bandit "sharing!!"

BANDIT

2007-07-10T13:45:00.000-07:00

Bandit taking over the dog beds

Lulu biting Bandit's tail

Bandit biting Lulu's tail

I Haven't Had Much Sleep the Last Two Nights Because a Raccoon Keeps Jumping on My Head

2007-07-08T14:49:00.000-07:00

My friend found a litter of baby raccoons whose mother got hit by a car. They were all sent out to relatives or friends to raise until they could be let go and they would survive on their own. Well, he just bought a new puppy and doesn’t think he has time to take care of both. I asked me to take it and I said OK. It is past the bottle stage luckily or I would have told him to deal with it. Na, I probably would have taken it anyways. Having or doing something weird or out of the norm sticks with you and you always remember those times. I think this will be a good memory for the kids, plus it is so cool. She (my wife says it is a she) doesn’t have front paws, they are little hands, and it grabs everything in sight. It sticks its hands in every nook-and-cranny and feels around looking for hidden treasure. They do that on riverbanks and between rocks and pebbles in the water searching for food. It is an inherent trait of its species and doesn’t have to be learnt. It is a real dork. It runs and hides and then jumps out. It was really afraid of our dos at first, but now it plays with them. It only took one day to lose its fear of our small dogs. Hopefully it doesn’t totally lose its fear of dogs, because in the wild the canines are friendly playful companions. I’ve been told that it is illegal to have her, because she is indigenous wildlife. I don’t know if that is the reason, but I don’t think I am allowed to have it. My friend once saw a fawn on the side of the road with the doe dead, having been run over by a car. He went to the DNR and they told him that he just had to let nature take its course and that he could be fined if a wild animal was ever found in his possession, and that it didn’t matter what the reason was. Compassion means nothing apparently, you are supposed to just let it die, that is natural selection, and you have to just deal with it, he was told. My friend didn’t care and risked helping the little coon and so will I. I will be honest with you, if it becomes attached to us and is nice and learns to use a little box, I will probably keep it. But I have been told, by people that they have heard that they never become domesticated and will become mean at adulthood. If that becomes the case I will release it to the wild, if I don’t anyways for some other reason, and just be happy that it survived because we took it in. What are your thoughts? Seriously.

OK, back to the sleeping issue. We put it in a cage the first night down at the end of the bed on the floor. It screamed for hrs off and on wanting to be free of the cage. Finally it shut-up for good and I was able to get more than an hr of sleep at a time. We found out why it stopped crying the next morning. It was dead.

I’m just joking. Ha, ha, funny or ha, ha, you sick asshole? Anyways, Bandit (oh yea forgot to tell ya, we named it Bandit, get it? OK, your aren’t that slow - the next one will be harder) had figured out how to get out of the cage. It is a mess cage with a pvc-plastic framework surrounded by a zippered mess screen. Remember I said it had hands, well it knows how to use them. It un-zipped the cage and got out. I found it in the morning curled up sleeping in my bedside nightstand. It loves take one shelf in my nightstand and anytime you are in the bedroom with it goes in there. That is its spot. You can take it and put it on the bed and it will leave as soon as it feels like it and goes right back in there. If you leave and go to another room it follows after you. It doesn’t like to be alone.

So last night we tried putting it in a different cage with a few books on top of the lid. It wouldn’t shout the hell up and finally it started screaming so we turned on the light. It somehow forced the lid up and made it half out, but the books proved too much for it and it became stuck. I was so tired that I just said piss on it and let it out. It shut-up and went right in the nightstand. Well, letting it out proved to be a mistake last night, because I forgot that raccoons are nocturnal creatures. Bandit would stay in the stand for an hr and then decide to get on the bed and run around. It would get on our pillows and play with our ears and hair. (OK, let me rephrase that – my wife’s hair and my head. I shave the little that still actually grows.) It sounds cute, but when you have to work in the morning and for some reason the Seroquel isn’t putting you to sleep as soon, so you are already going to be sleepy, it gets old. So I killed it. Just joking again. I would push it and tell it to get and it would go back to the stand for an hr or so. It did this 3 times. I won’t have to worry about it tonight because this is my last day of work, so I’ll be up all night playing, what else, but poker. I’m going back to work on night shift so I’ll be staying up all night for the next 4 days anyways, so I won’t have to deal with it till late in the week. But even then I will be sleeping during the day so it will be running around with the family in the rest of the house.

Maybe I’ll post a few pics. It loves fake fighting with my Pomeranian. They roll around like dorks biting at each other’s feet. It makes me happy and that is good.

Until next time, later, Ash out…

Kids Get Your Asses To Bed

2007-07-06T13:58:00.000-07:00

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

bitch (2x) shit (1x)

Give it a try all. Meanie and Butterfly shame, shame, shame!

My Poker blog didn't fair so well - N-17. Now that is a dirty mouth. I need some Orbits gum to clean that up.

They gig you for Hell, Dead, Hurt, and Ass also - so you know what I say - FUCK IT.

Sup

2007-07-05T09:17:00.000-07:00

I’m still doing well. I’ve been getting a little crabby lately, but nothing major. I am making a conscience effort to spend more time with the family. It doesn’t always work that way, but I am going to keep at it. I want my family to know how much I love and appreciate them. My vacation went well although we did a lot of medical related travel while I was off. I am on my second week back, although the plant is now down for production curtailment at the moment. My boss isn’t giving me a lot of superfluous tasks to muddle my day away so I should get a lot of studying done. While I am alone I will try to give that stress/relaxation CD another go. I occasionally still get my anxiety attacks. Hopefully I can continue to find ways to alleviate these attacks. Man have I been finding it hard to sleep lately. Even with the Seroquel I am finding it hard to snooze. It is often taking 3 to 4 hrs after taking my 300 mg to finally wind down. And yes poker is still consuming me. I plugged a few leaks and have begun making money again.

Oh yea, I'm still living right at and below 200lbs for the last few weeks. I played basketball with the Fam yesterday at 4th of July get-together. I got one game in and I was ready to just play horse because I couldn't drive or D-up well after the first 10 min. Luckily my outside jumper was on so I didn't have to go to the basket. BTW, we won. God am I out of shape; I couldn't even touch the rim anymore. I sweeted so perfusly that I had to go home and take a shower before the poker games ensued.

Later guys and gals, Ash out…

YO YO YO

2007-06-21T18:46:00.000-07:00

First of all – I’m OK, there is nothing wrong. Thank you for your concern though. I’ve been busy lately. Both of my children play soccer and we are on the run nonstop. Now it will calm down a little and only consume 3 days per week until it concludes in August. Of course that is when football starts and runs 5 days a week for practice and games on Saturday. Other than that I have gotten back into poker big time. I have to, OK maybe not have to, get 100 points a day and that takes from 1 ½ to 2 ½ hrs a day. I try to do this poker time while the family is sleeping most of the time. And finally bringing up last place for time consumption is my pysch courses. So as you can see I haven’t had a lot of time to spend online. I have even neglected to read any blogs lately. When I’m playing online poker I have 8 tables going at once, which requires me to make decisions every few seconds, which leaves no time for web surfing. I am on vacation again for 12 days.

The sad thing about my vacation is why I took it at this particular time. You see, I work that odd 4 on-4 off schedule so my days and nights at work progress forward 1 day a week. Well I absolutely hate day shift. That is when all the big wigs are at work and I have to deal with them all shift. But in my business and needing to do things with my production, which causes havoc more often than not. Plus I absolutely hate a few of my bosses. One because he is a bully type that has to stroke his own ego whenever possible, plus he thinks he is intelligent when his intellect is mediocre at best, and the other boss due to his utter lapse from reality. I’m telling you this guy breathes flowers and shits sunshine. He is quite educated, yet he believes the world should be perfect and when it isn’t he doesn’t get it. He thinks everyone should just want to do extra things like joining teams and extra work for the good of the company and not for monetary reasons. Employees should just put forth extra effort and be happy to give up their time. So he is basically ignorant and totally unrealistic in all of his opinions and goals. So he always comes up with these projects that I then have to go back to my people and try to gain support by way of his brainless propaganda. Everything is to make him look good in the eyes of his superiors. So when he starts one of his rants you better have your sun-screen with you because he is about to pump sunshine up your ass. He is basically a cardboard cutout with an ever-present faux smile on his fake façade. So back to the main point of this short story of a paragraph: I took a vacation solely to avoid my job. Also the most stressful day during the week on dayshift is down day, which occurs on Thursdays. The mill is shut down and maintance is performed on countless mechanical and electrical items. I am then in charge of over 50 people and have to keep them on a tight schedule. At times I have to be a stern taskmaster, is uncharacteristic for my demeanor. I’m not a soft leader, but I’m not an unquestionable dictator. I govern through the old adage of treating people the way you want to be treated. I show respect and thus I’m respected and given great loyalty from my close-knit crew. Not to say that I never snap; I don’t think any bipolar individual could proclaim that. But with this extended group I have to regulate with a stronger arm sometimes although I show respect. So this day is the most difficult day of my job. It always seems to go wrong; nothing ever starts up smoothly. This day only happens, due to my schedule, once a month or so. To remedy this stressful time comprising of Down Day and working on days for my entire 4 days on I took a vacation. I guess that is what a vacation is for really: to relax and relieve stress. But I feel weak for this maneuver.

I should have plenty of time for blog-life and extra studiousness very soon. My division of the corporation is feeling some hard times due to the anemic housing market. The 3 plants making our product are taking some downtime for product curtailment. Starting in July we are taking 2 weeks down. We will then produce our exterior siding for a month and then shut down the mill for another 2 weeks. We will continue on this schedule for the remainder of the year. For most employees this means 2 weeks every month and a half for 6 months. Only salary employees will remain during the down weeks. I am luckily one of the few. There are 125 employees at my workplace and less than 20 are salary. So all my whining about not getting overtime or paid for my extra time during Smoke School week has its counter balance. I will continue with my regular wage which is sorely needed since my wife has been off of work for a year now with an injury. That is a solace that I am grateful for. I sure hope work doesn’t go under, that would be a life altering situation, just as if I lost my temper again in a manic rage and lost my job. The good side is that I will be left to my own vices for the down times, unless my dick of a boss tries to make me a laborer on occasion. On nights I would be alone in the large facility, but they put another department head with me for safety reasons. He will likely live in his office as will I, which will give me unadulterated time to myself.

On the mental front I am still feeling that sense of normalcy for the most part. Though I am habitually playing and thinking poker, poker, poker. Maybe I am not manic; maybe it’s just my addictive tendencies. I do think maybe I am a little manic though. If I don’t take my Seroquel I don’t get tired, I just continue to click that mouse while playing a plethora of tables at once. Also I both 2 jerseys off of Ebay totaling $100 with my favorite pro poker player’s name on them. I also bought a huge box of cards with 26 packs in them. They are expensive all-plastic casino quality cards and I got a great deal on them. But that seems a little obsessive now that I have bought them. I will never have to buy another deck of cards in a few decades. I am not overly emotional. I get irrated less often. Normal people get agitated and they aren’t considered different, so maybe I getting a little pissed here and there is normal too. While I guess I will end this extended entry with a weight update. 2 weeks of silence and now a novel. For those of you that haven’t given up on me - I thank you and have missed your thoughts and blogs. A week ago on Saturday I had broken the 200 threshold weighing-in at 197lbs. But I’m guessing I’m currently sitting at 202 or so. I have been a little naughty this week. See you soon.

Later, Ash out…

Weight and an Update

2007-06-03T11:53:00.001-07:00

I didn’t lose any weight this week. A little solace is that I didn’t gain any either.

Another good week. I almost feel like I’m normal. I don’t feel BP. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I hope it keeps up. Summer is almost here people, so likely we will all feel that solar happiness. Later guys.

Cool Story

2007-06-03T11:47:00.000-07:00

Excerpt: Second Person, Present Tense – Daryl Gregory

When I want to freak out, “I” think about “me” thinking about having an “I.” The only thing stupider than puppets talking to puppets is a puppet talking to itself.
Dr. S says that nobody knows what the mind is, or how the brain generates it, and nobody really knows about consciousness. We talked almost every day that I was in the hospital, and after he saw that I was interested in this stuff – how could I not be? – he gave me books and we talked about brains and how they cook up thoughts and make decisions.
“How do I explain this?” he always starts. And then he tries out the metaphors that he’s working on for his book. My favorite the Parliament, the Page, and the Queen.
“The brain isn’t one thing of course,” he told me. “It’s millions of firing cells, and those resolve into hundreds of active sites, and so it is with the mind. There are dozens of nodes in the mind, each one trying to out shout the others. For any decision, the erupts with noise, and that triggers…how do I explain this…Have you ever seen the British Parliament on C-SPAN?” Of course I had: in a hospital, TV is a constant companion. “These members of the mind’s Parliament, they’re all shouting in chemicals and electric charges, until enough of the voices are shouting in unison. Ding! That’s a ‘thought,’ a ‘decision.’ The Parliament immediately sends a signal to the body to act on that decision, and at the same time it tells the Page to take the news- “
“Wait who’s the Page?”
Dr. S explains that the Page isn’t one thing, but a cascade of neural events in the temporal area of the limbic system that meshes the neural map of the new thought with the existing neural map – but by then I know that “neural map” is just another metaphor for another deeply complex thing or process, and that I’ll never get to the bottom of this. Dr. S said not to worry about it, that nobody gets to the bottom of it. “The Page takes the news of the decision to the Queen.”
“All right then, who’s the Queen? Conscience?”
“Exactly right! The self itself.”
“The Page,” he said, “delivers its message to Her Majesty, telling what the Parliament has decided. The Queen doesn’t need to know about all the arguments that went on, all the other possibilities that were thrown out. She simply needs to know what to announce to her subjects. The Queen tells the parts to act on the decision.”
“Wait I thought the Parliament had already sent out the signal. You said before that you can see the brain warming up before the self even knows about it.”
“That’s the joke. The Queen announces the decision, and she thinks that her subjects are obeying her commands, but in reality, they have already been told what to do. They’re already reaching for their glasses of water.”

Read the last three paragraphs closely and tell me that isn’t impulse anger and BP outbursts summed up and neatly and succinctly put.

Later, Ash out…

A Week's Worth of This and That

2007-05-28T02:25:00.000-07:00

I have been in a weird place this week. I don’t really know how to describe it. I just am. I’m not depressed and I’m not overtly happy. I just am. I actually feel normal at the moment. I do kind of feel mania in the back corners of my mind wanting to be released.

I have been neglectful in my med maintenance; I let my Lamictal run out and didn’t get it filled for a few days. I just got in back yesterday and already I have forgotten to take it once. I took my morning dose and forgot to take my night dose. I don’t know what this is all about, but I need to remedy it before it becomes a habit.

I haven’t listened to the stress relief CD’s yet. I burned myself copies yet haven’t taken the time to listen to them. I have to go see my P-doc on Weds and I will have to admit this or lie; I haven’t quite decided which to do yet. I lost my appointment card so I will have to call for the time. Thurs I have my T-doc appointment. I’m guessing he will totally remove me from the Risperdal. That will leave me with Lamictal and Seroquel. I can live with that. Now that I think about it, since the reduction of Risperdal I have been feeling normalcy to a certain extent. Likely just a coincident. I’m pretty sure of it.

I feel poker wanting to comeback into the picture fiercely. It really makes no sense to me. All winter while it was shitty out and playing countless hrs of online poker would seem a typical escape I didn’t have the urge whatsoever – or barely anyways. Yet now when it is beautiful outside and I should be out frolicking in the wildflowers I feel the twinge of gambling entering my thoughts more and more. I have just this past week put in more time at it than in the month prior. Luckily I have always used bankroll management and have none of our money online; I play with profits, having long-since taken my seed money off the internet. In don’t mind really that I will be playing more soon, it’s just that it seems to have arrived at the wrong time of the year. I will try to manage my time during this foray into my poker realm and spent most normal hrs with my family and not neglect them for the sweet shimmer of the computer screen. I will not get back into that mode where I am in my own little world although it is calling stronger day by day. At least this time I know what’s happening and won’t let it take total control.

I am ashamed to say that I have possibly neglected my health. I had a 6 month check-up slip come in the mail months ago. And I do mean months ago. I was put on meds due to high cholesterol. Due to my BP meds and the horrible over-eating that ensued. But the BP meds and the cholesterol possible could hard my liver. So I was supposed to wait like 6 to 8 weeks and get my liver function checked just to be safe. I am embarrassed to say that I am afraid to needles. I hate giving blood. It is a real phobia for me. I don’t know why I am so fearful of a fucking little poke, but sadly that is the case. I have a panic attack every time, but I deal with it long enough for them to draw blood. They often ask if I will be alright. I dread it so bad that I didn’t get my liver function checked of my cholesterol. The last time that I gave blood they gave me a young check likely still training and she poked me 3 times and dug around in my arm for a few excruciating minutes. But this week I am going to make that appointment and get my bloodwork done. It is truly irrational, I know, but for some reason I have this fear. When I was a child the uncle that I lived with for a while always stated that he was afraid of needles. I wonder if something as simple as your elder expressing fear could evolve subconsciously into a phobia for a youngster. I don’t know, but what I do know is that I’m going to schedule bloodwork and a Dr’s appointment this week. Pray for me LOL. I'm such a puss.

I lost another 3lbs this last week. I now weigh-in at 202lbs. That’s 14lbs in month 1. I am pretty happy with that. 3 more pounds and I will be in the 100’s. That shows me that my eating habits were horrid. I haven’t exercised yet. That means that I was merely over-eating. I’m not obsessing and eating healthy either. I am just pushing the plate away with a little caloric goodness still sitting unconsumed on it. I have been taking healthier snacks to work more often than not though: yogurt and fruit. I still buy my beloved pretzels on occasion. So really I have just calmed down my consumption. That is good enough for me for right now. I am proud.

MEDITATION

2007-05-21T13:43:00.000-07:00

I did read some of that book that she gave me last visit. I tried one of the meditation exercises. I thought that it wouldn’t affect me. My super intellect…right? Don’t try to get in my head…the walls are high with battlements and crenulations…plus you wouldn’t like what you’d find. I read it first before trying. It wasn’t hard to remember. You started with your toes and feet and worked your way up your body as you focused on releasing stress and tension. I was truly skeptical. I then read the sun meditation exercise, where you are walking on an imaginary sandy beach. You go through the same imagery basically as the muscle relaxation technique except that you start up top and work your way down. And instead of merely releasing tension and stress you are focusing warm rays of sunshine massaging each body part as the tension melts away. After reading it I decided to give it a try. I was at work and couldn’t be totally at peace. I also had my door open so someone might walk by and think I was trying to sleep, which is what happened once, but hey I’m the boss. It was just a short interruption though. I started with the muscle relaxation and slowly worked my way upward. My feet had a lot of tension. I could feel them even as I worked my way to the thighs. At some point my feet were relaxed and my mind didn’t focus there any longer. As I moved up focusing on each part the body parts a few steps back were no longer there in the same way any longer. They were deadened in a way. I completed it all with only a little trouble. The neck and shoulders were a bitch. I then delved right into the sun exercise. When I was all done and opened my eyes I was super calm. I was in a daze, feeling a bit disoriented. It was pretty cool. I got a lot out of it, but we are talking probably 20 mins or so with my eyes closed. I put this book on my Amazon wish list so when I get the urge I can purchase it.

This visit she gave me a stress relief CD that she wants me to give a few listens to over the next couple of weeks. I burned them so I can have them. I figured that people that used mediation and yoga and Buddhism philosophy and shit like that did get something out of it. The mind is a powerful thing. I just didn’t think I was able to follow it. Strong mind you see. Actually it seems that it takes a strong mind to accomplish this inner peace that they feel. I still see myself with much bravado and machismo so it is hard to let go. I bet no one found enlightenment without working towards it. Hopefully I can be one of those legs crossed happy nerds.

Unbridled

2007-05-21T08:43:00.000-07:00

Introversion is an opaque window

A two-sided mirror that beckons

I see my childhood

My insecurities must remain secure

Dread a strong emotion

Often his power is underestimated

Misconstrued in myself

Self yet sustains me

My past defies me

I turn to stone

Your eyes upon me

Needless hate

I deserve better

I bloom without you

I defy all before me

I am evil look-see

Genes don’t buy love

Flesh of flesh

I need no one

I am my maker

Adore me now

Dead to my hand

I now live free

Powerful in my efficacy

Move on

You block my path

I need not

You need now

No

My flame autonomous

Tow my line

Mastered your game

I live on

Needless

One

Week 3

2007-05-19T08:24:00.000-07:00

Pay no attention to the shaved man-junk!

I lost 2lbs this week. That is 11 total. 6lbs more and I will be under $200lbs. The only thing that sucks is that each week I have lost less and less. Hopefully this trend stops or it won’t be long before I start gaining weight. I haven’t exercised yet so I have to be happy for the weight loss. At some point I will have to exercise to continue to loss weight is my guess. All I am doing is eating less. I have stopped stuffing my gullet at every meal. I have begun to eat fruit and veggies throughout the day. I still snack a little at bedtime. I usually eat pretzels. Not the greatest for me, but at least I’m not heading to the fridge anymore and making a meal. If I could stop eating at bedtime that would be best, but I’m not there yet. Seroquel still has its insidious grasp about my throat. Overall…I’m happy with my progress.

Later, Ash out…

T-doc Visit: I'm Broken

2007-05-19T08:05:00.000-07:00

I had a T-doc visit on Tues. It was a good session sort of. She is saying that some of my issues are due to my illness and some are learned traits from childhood. I guess I agree. It makes it harder to work on my issues. I hate when she asks things about my childhood. My growing up years sucked. My parents sucked. But for some reason I have an instinct to withhold and defend my parents acts. I don’t like to blame my environment for my traits and habits. I know it is true though. I have studied this in my courses. Part of what you are is inherent and some is from the environment in which you were raised and witness to. The inherent things are the hardest things to work on because they are encoded into your very being. It can be worked on, yet it is hard work. On the other hand environmental character flaws are slightly easier to repress or disengage.

She thinks my anxiety attacks come from my perfectionism and need to control every aspect of my environment She thinks that those 2 habits come from my environment growing up. She thinks because my dad was never satisfied with anything that I did that I developed these strong feelings that bring on anxiety. If I’m going to have a confrontation, I might not have control in the situation so I lose control of my emotions and get all the anxiety symptoms. She also thinks that because of my childhood experiences that I have a perpetual need to excel and be perfect. This brings me unbridled stress, which also triggers anxiety and anger. It is also why I procrastinate in most things in life. I am afraid of failing so I never start anything so I can protect myself from my perfectionism. It is a vicious cycle. As much as I hate to admit these flaws about myself I think she is right in her analysis. And as they say: the first step to recovery is acceptance.

It kind of sucks. When you think all of your issues are due to your illness you can deal with that. You can blame it on something that is out of you power. You can blame it on a chemical imbalance. You can blame your neurotransmitters. But when it is just you, you are left bare. You have no disorder to hide behind. You have to start to understand that you are fucked-up. It is you. So I’m fucked-up. Now I must find and fix myself. Hopefully this is the source of my anger so I can work on it and someday (hopefully soon) alleviate and ultimately cure its demonic grasp of my moods.

I am overall happy with therapy. I need help with some things in life and at least I am willing to improve. Some people, especially men, wouldn’t go to a psych much less therapist. I’m starting to see that it isn’t because they are tough or more manly, it is because they are insecure deep down and are afraid of what they might find.

Quick Weight Update

2007-05-13T16:26:00.001-07:00

I lost another 3lbs last week. I did some cheating though. That is 9lbs total in the 2 weeks that I have been dieting. I now stand at 207lbs. 175 here I come.

Just When I Thought I Was Out... They Pull Me Back In

2007-05-12T20:12:00.000-07:00

Did You even know that there was such a thing as bipolar remission?

That article was the result of searching for how I felt.

Remission. I feel like I am in remission.

There is so much online about remission. I knew it wasn't in my head. Remission really IS what I am going through.

One site said: Bipolar disorder may involve long periods of remission between episodes. Everyone can be lulled into a false sense of security. This fosters denial of the illness and premature medication cessation.

Wow!

Wait, now remission means it could come back. Hmmmm, I guess it's too early to tell if I'm in remission or if I healed myself. My goal is to heal myself, so I'll keep ya posted.

Anyway, I feel great to know this, like I'm more aware and have been given a heads up on an assassin that may try to get me. Or maybe I watch too much Law & Order.

So grateful for info available on the Internet.

Click on Butterfly’s above post to visit her blog. She has some links to sites about BP remission hyperlinked into the same post on her site.

This is exactly how my week has gone. I wasn’t overly happy or anything. I wasn’t overly sad. I functioned with out animosity for the world. I wasn’t affected by noise. My nerves weren’t grated. Humans didn’t seem inferior to my omnipotence. I wasn’t irrational and irritated. I guess you would call it normalcy. I was a lukewarm normal person. I was feeling fine and that was fine by me. I actually started to think that maybe I was regulated somehow. Was it the Omega 3 fish oil that I just started taking? Was it the fact that I wasn’t stuffing myself like a plucked turkey? Was I maybe not really bipolar anymore?

Then came Friday. I awoke to a world of inferior lifeforms that didn’t deserve to be in my almighty presence. Them merely talking among themselves in the living room down the hall was aggravating. Just shut the fuck up. Do you always have to talk I thought? It still didn’t dawn on me that I was being irrational. I got up went into the living room. I got on my computer lifeline. Within 5 min I had already told my children to calm down. Hey be quiet. What don’t we get about be fucking quiet. Stop running all around. I’m not being cranky Ash-wife, they aren’t listening. My mom comes over. Mom you are really aggravating the shit out of me I think. I am very short with her. She is making no sense. She is having a bad day mentally and being totally irrational. She is saying stupid senseless shit that has me on edge. I still don’t really get that I am different. Everyone is making me this way. It isn’t me. I am starting to have an anxiety attack as mom is being irrational. She is ready to leave. She sees that I am in a mood. Dad pulls into the yard. I hug her bye and watch her go out the door. She pops her head back in and says that dad said to tell me that he just caught a big fish. I succinctly and curtly say that’s nice, later, bye. As an afterthought a min later I realize that it wouldn’t be nice to not say hi to dad. I walk out to the truck and say hi and bye, really just wanting them to leave.

Ash-wife tells me that I’m being really mean and short as I walk back in. That I have treated her like shit and the kids like shit since I got up and that I just treated my mom like a piece of shit. It just dawns on me that she is totally right. I am having an episode for the first time in close to a week. Normalcy over. Asshole endured and overcame the fight with remission. Remission you ain’t shit. WaHaHaHa. What were you thinking? That you were a nice person that thought everyone’s thoughts and opinions were just as important as your own. PO’leeze, the world should just be happy that you are in it. You are fucked and defective. Didn’t you know that. You are bipolar. Now deal with it. I tell her that I can’t help it and that didn’t really even realize that I was being that way until she just pointed it out. She asked if there was anything that I could take to calm myself. I told her no but that it was time for my night meds. She said that she was really worried about me going to work that night. She was afraid I was going to continue on my current path of destruction. I told her that there wasn’t anything that I could do, no one to call to cover for me, that I would just have to ride it out. I said lets hope that I have an easy night with no problems so I could stay in my office and not be put in any situations that I had to make snappy decisions. I am calmer as I get ready for work. I think it was due to being aware that I was in a pert mood.

At work I am a little short with my press guys that live in the larger office outside my office. They tell me that I have the crazy eyes going. I try to calm myself. I do. Then I get a call that a machine had broken badly. I put on my radio and head to the problem. I take an assessment and the prognosis wasn’t the greatest. I supervise as my guys work on the situation. I am acutely attuned to every aspect of their job and what they are working on. It was almost like the world was in slow motion. I saw where I could jump in and do things that they were taking too long doing. But hey, when you are on the outside looking in you can see things clearer; it’s not necessarily that I was superior, although it felt that way. I caught myself before I griped at some of the things that they were doing. I was kind of getting a little work-up as I watched. I decided to remove myself from the situation for a minute and let them handle themselves. I am proud of myself for doing this. I took a walk around the facility and cleared my head as I told myself that they were doing a good job; they actually were doing a good job, but my BP was on over-critical mode. I went back and held myself together. I was worked up to the point of running my mouth again in around 20 min because they were checking over the whole machine and taking a long time doing it. Just as I am ready to ruin the moral of my people they buttoned everything up and were ready to rock. I tell everyone good job and that they had done it well with a faked smile. Later we had another problem. This time one of my guys wasn’t very observant and overlooked that there was a problem. He tried to manually run the machine and jammed everything tight ass hell and turned a 10 min problem into a 45 min problem. This time I jumped right in there and helped out because I could see that they were trying to fix it the hard way and that it would have took a long time. As I ran the team I was very positive and didn’t treat anyone adversely. We got finished and I told everyone good job. I then sat with the guys that normally would fix the problem and ran through the whole scenario and taught them how to do it the right way. I told them that we all make mistakes and that even though what happened sucked for all of us, that as long as we learned from the situation, that it would make us stronger, and that I was happy. I was happy with the way I handled the second problem outwardly and emotionally. I didn’t have an anxiety attack – not even slightly. The first problem, I treated everyone well, but inside I was tilting. The second problem I didn’t feel any anxiety even though I jumped in and helped.

I might actually be beginning to get a slight handle on my anger and unfavorable emotions. But I need to get a higher sensitivity to my feelings and emotions; they are a muddled language that is very cryptic and difficult for me to unravel. I just don’t really see it until I hit maximum overdrive. I need to find a way to get more attuned to my inner self sooner so I can repress my ferocity, irritability, and arrogance before it is outwardly noticeable. That is the ultimate goal of the moment. I am afraid that if Ash-wife wouldn’t have pointed my mood out to me that I would have mistreated people that didn’t deserve it. You never know, I might even have had that catastrophic blow-up that ends my current career. Hopefully that day doesn’t come; I have been trying so hard to keep that at bay.

The Bad Dream

2007-05-12T00:40:00.000-07:00

My wife came in got me up because my mom was coming over. She said that Ash-daughter had scared her horribly that morning. She said that Ash-girl told her about a bad dream that she had the previous night. Ash-wife was really worked up as she began telling the story. It was obvious that it had really affected her, so I forced the sleep from the corners of my eyes and paid attention.

Ash-daughter's dream

I bug got into my head, in my brain. It traveled to my tummy and I got sick. You took me to the Dr and he said it was cancer. He said that I had 3 days to live.

Day 1 grandma came to visit and started crying. She said that see couldn’t take this again. First her daughter had cancer and now her granddaughter.

Day 2 Ash-boy came and said he was sorry for being mean to me. He said that he was sorry for all the times that he called me names and picked on me.

Day 3 you were laying on me crying bad and hugging me momma. Then I died. I was looking down at you holding me and screaming.

That certainly must have been a pretty fucked up dream to hear from your 8 year old. Ash-wife was truly distraught about the whole thing. She said that she didn’t ever want to think about it again. I have to admit that it was a pretty unnerving because of all the details and just mentioning the C-word is dreadful.

Still Angry at Times

2007-05-08T08:36:00.000-07:00

I called off my T-doc appointment due to a serious head cold. This is the first time I’ve been sick in like 2 years so I can’t really complain too much.

I’m still having a little trouble controlling my rage. I have been getting a little irritated with the kids. Often their voices dig into my brain. I’m a little short here and there, but overall I’m pretty nice. I did scream very loud at Ash-boy last night. He kept shooting me with a toy gun and we were playing. I told him to stop because I was sick of getting shot. I then went into my bedroom and laid down for bed and to watch some TV. He stopped for a few min, but then he kept coming in my room and pointing it in my face and acting like he was going to shoot me in the face. I told him to stop repeatedly to no avail. I then told him I wasn’t playing anymore, but he kept it up. Finally I snapped and screamed very aggressively at him. All I saw was red. I would have thrown something at him if I was holding something at the time. I know I would have. It would have been totally wrong, but I know I would have. So I realize that I still have a long way to go with this insta-rage. I hope that there is a way to quell this problem. I have kept myself from over-reacting and getting angry a few times over the last few days. I want to get mad, but somehow stop from doing it. But this screaming at Ash-boy was different. I had no control and that scares me. There was thinking my way out of it; it was pure anger. I had an anxiety attack when I yelled. It took a few mins for my body to regulate itself.

I have been cheating a little the last few days on the diet. I will have to try harder. Being at home all day on my days off makes it temping because all I have is time and snacks looking at me with there bedroom-eyes. Damn temptresses.

Later, Ash out…

Snippets

2007-05-05T20:46:00.000-07:00

I have just weighed myself at 9:30PM after watching my beloved Detroit Pistons whip the shit out of the Bulls. Fuck you Wallace; we don't need you, you money grubbing bitch. I now weigh 210lbs. That is -6lbs in week 1.

I have drank a lot of red wine tonight after my last day of work and I can't truly say why. Who fuckin' cares.

HATE. Death and Destruction. Bring it fuckers.

I hate my job and take my considerable vacation time around when I work days. Recap: I work 4, 12hr days, 7am to 7pm – 4 days off – 4, 12hr nights, 7pm to 7am. My T-doc and P-doc both say that this is a very hard schedule for me and that it is unhealthy physically and mentally. I don’t take vacation to do things: I take vacation to reduce my stress. You see, Mon–Fri 7am-4pm the bosses at my plant are there. I hate this time at work. Thursdays are the very worst for me. On Thurs we shut down the whole mill and every department. – Green End, Production, Finish End, Electrical, Mechanical, environmental, and Quality Control all work on upkeep of their individual processes. All in all I am responsible for making sure that they complete there work on time; lets round it off at 100 individual people. I walk around and make sure everyone is working at a productive pace. I need to find out who is going to hold my start-up up. They damn sure better have a good reason. We go down at 7:30am thru 3:30pm - 8hrs: 480mins. That is my allotted time to keep the mill down. After that my personal Crew is docked efficiency for every min that the mill doesn’t run. This is a very tedious process, which I have been one of the best at since I started running my crew 5 years ago. I was a tyrant to some and a mentor to others. I kept people to task. I was told in my evaluations that I take my job too seriously and put too much stress on myself. That I am the top performer usually, with the most talented crew, and therefore I should relax and slow the pace a bit. I have always strove to do my best. Sometimes my assertiveness would kick-in as I tried to perform. I sometimes would snap at people and tell them of their incompetence. I was a stern taskmaster. You either performed or you felt my wrath. I would be the best and you better not be the weakest link. Don’t take this to mean that I showed no compassion. I was respected and loved by my crew. I treated my crew like a coddled, cherished prize. I covered up their mishaps and fuck-ups. I saved many jobs at risk to my own employment. My crew was my family and they would do anything for me. They performed for me alone. But sadly I kept expecting more from everyone that wasn’t a part of my crew, especially on D. days. You must realize that these other people on Down Days weren’t my guys, they reported to others, although I was ultimately responsible for their performances on D. Day. I was manic a few too many times and I was reported to management as an antagonist to put it lightly. Incompetence, I just couldn’t stand. I am a perfectionist and I need to be validated as the best of the best or I can’t relax and sleep at night. Honestly they expect this of me. They are the Man. They are Conglomerate. I am a fucking pawn, people. It is expected of me, but just don’t get a bad wrap. I hate my fucking job. I have no true friends. Everyone has an ulterior motive. Brown-nosing bastards. Aren’t you glad that I’m drunk and opening up a bit. I took it too far. I got turned in a few too many times for snapping, and they tried to fire me. My crew, whom I have treated like gold all went up front to management and protested. My job was spared due solely to the love my crew had for me because of how I treated them. I was placed on days for 6 months of probation. This wasn’t due solely to my treatment of incompetent bastards that didn’t deserve their jobs in the first place. I had a bad reputation of going up front in the management meetings and calling department heads incompetent in front of everyone. I would normally know when to shut-up, but when I was manic, the beast would come out and I would snap at the board meetings. Imagine that I am accountable for every min (720min) of my 12 hr shift. No matter which dept was at fault, I was still ultimately the culprit and I better understand every aspect of every damn min that the mill isn’t running. We actually have a screen on the wall that the computer projects every min that I wasn’t making product. I have to explain why we weren’t running and what I did to remedy the problem. You see, I am a very anal person that needs to know every aspect of every fucking thing. If I had to explain it, you better bet your ass that I can tell you what the problem was. I would tell department mangers what was the problem because I had researched deeply, at much stress to myself. I would inform them of the problem. I would then go on my for days off. When I came back I was finding that they hadn’t fixed the problems that I had told them about 4 days earlier. I would snap and tell them that they weren’t doing their jobs efficiently. After a while of butting heads with the highest people at your plant, the Plant Manager will slap you down, right or wrong. Months after being taken from my crew I was allowed back because I had excelled again with the small day crew that I was given and had maintained calm. Being put on days was an embarrassing time for me. Assholes leaked why I was on days. I was told if I have just one more major outburst it is the end of my job. At first I thought I would end up being sabotaged and framed by people – ambitious or people that have a grudge. But that didn't happen. Actually it was tried once but it didn't work because enough people were present to counter a few peoples' lies. I was placed back on my crew over a year ago. I took them and put them back on top and was the best performing crew once again. At my evaluation I was given the highest raise among Sup’s, yet I was once again docked for lack of professional communication. My manic ass once again snapped a few more times, yet not nearly as bad. I can usually repress my opinions and take them home and run them over and over though my mind, but when I’m manic I tell the people at the morning meetings that they suck and aren’t doing their best. It is my BP at it’s best that tries to take my job. I was told that I was the smartest and most responsible Sup that they had, but that I needed to calm down and let the mill run without my stern arm. That I was out-performing everyone, so I just needed to not worry so much. Just let pieces fall as they may. I have this year tried that philosophy as of yet and I just sit in my office mostly. I could do so much more, but this is what they ask of me. Sadly this is how the other Sup's spend their days and they don't get near as stressed as I do. I need my job; I hate my job. It sucks when someone tells you to do less than your best. I need to feed my family so I will play their game. So back to the beginning of this super long paragraph, I now try not to work on days Mon – Fri. If I have to work Mon thru Thurs on day or Tues thru Fri on days I just take that week off of work. That keeps me away from all the bosses and a D.D. You would be amazed at the stress that I escape by taking this vacation. Sadly you shouldn’t hate your job that much. But where else would an under-achieving GED fuck flourish. God I hate my life, but I’m willing to endure for the security of my family. What is my soul worth anyways?

I think I have a gambling problem that I am infecting others with. I have played poker at work today with certain members of my crew. Now that's a close-knit crew.

Oh yea, I got a couple of responses back from blog advertising sites that I applied for back when it was just my poker site. They want me now that I have people actually reading a fuckin' blog of mine. I plan to review ads for these sites. I hope that doesn't make me a sellout. I figure if I'm going to be blogging anyways for what I truly believe in, I mind as well get paid.

What does 6 lbs mean when the world is shit . FTW.

Later, Ash fuckin' out.

It’s All Pseudo-science and Psychobabble

2007-05-05T14:33:00.000-07:00

Colorgenics along with most personality tests, astrology, tarot cards, throwing down chicken bones, phone psychics, soothsayers, clairvoyants, etc. have more to do with your core beliefs and superstitions due to how you were raised, and the skill of the perpetrator, than science of any caliber. They prey on insecurities and half-beliefs and hopes and dreams that we think or need to think about ourselves. Often they can be used for good. Psychics often help give closure for relatives of dead loved-ones by telling them that they are happy in the afterlife or that they forgive some past transgression by the living. But mostly it is negative some way, whether by giving false hope about fortune, fame, or love or reinforcing and validating negative traits that we wrongly thing about ourselves. In the colorgenics paragraphs for every positive there was one or more negative. If you say both sides of everything, something in there will hit close enough to home that it seems remarkable that they “knew” that about you. It is fun to try and laugh about, but never put your faith in a faithless thing, it usually hurts in the end. But that’s just my opinion. I am a born skeptic and critical thinker. I’d have to catch a ghost to believe in them. OK, maybe not or I wouldn't be afraid of the dark while alone.

Your thoughts?

I knew you where going to think that!

The Waders Confrontation

2007-05-05T06:55:00.000-07:00

I tried on my days off, leading up to this confrontation with the “Assholes,” to use some of the new techniques on anxiety suppression that I have recently learned from therapy and the book she has me reading. My T-doc will be happy. Basically I forced myself to think about something else every time it popped into my head and kept telling myself that I wasn’t going to blow up when we met. It wasn’t a breeze though; every time I thought about it did make me angry until I pushed it from my thoughts. The night that happened, I got a little snappy and Ash-wife told me so. She said that just because I was mad at them not to take it out on her and the kids. She was right; I was lashing out because I was mad. That was when I decided to try to stop the catastrophic thinking about the situation.

Well I let Van Horn and Smity off the hook. They came to me and apologized. Apparently Smity relayed that I was pissed. I kinda gave them a mini-lecture on consideration and friendship. I remained calm, but I did feel that my anxiety wanted to hit critical mass. I repressed it and kind of blew it off with some jokes. I told them that I was really pissed at first and that I had gotten over it, but that it still hurt. I explained the ardor my son showed about the promised outing as he talked about trip in earnest for 2 days. They said that they felt like shit. I said good, that they should. That I wouldn’t do that to anyone. That if I make an arrangement with someone, that not only do I show-up, that I make sure I’m there on time. I said that if unforeseen circumstance I had to call it off that I could guarantee that I would call that person. I also said that I didn’t even have to be friends or like the person to call them, that it was just a matter of respect and being a decent, well-mannered person. I mentioned over and over throughout the conversation that it was them that invited me and my son. I mentioned that we went out of our way to get a net and borrow waders, and that I even bought my fishing license just for the trip. I kind of just left it at that.

Later, the guy that let me borrow the waders for my son started livening it up more by talking junk. He started asking if I wanted to go smelting on my day off and said that if he couldn’t go he would give me a ring and call it off, thus not leaving me hanging. Smity and Van Horn told him to shut-up and not get me started again. We all laughed it up a bit. Then I kicked out a joking analogy. I told them that I felt like a teenage girl on prom night. I bought a dress that I wouldn’t finish paying off for some time. That I had spent countless time in front of the mirror with my mom trying to look perfect. That it was my big day. That I waited and waited for my date to come. That I waited for my corsage to be buttoned to my dress, only to continue waiting. That I was stood-up by an inconsiderate bastard and would be scarred for life. That he was the one that invited me to the prom, not the other way around. We all laughed.

Funny related story. I work with some goofy people. The guy that let me borrow the waders laid a condition upon using them. Now realize that he was the one that offered to loan them to me, because he was in the room with us when we were setting up the trip. Verbatim he said, “You can borrow them, but you have to tell your son not to pee in them. If you pee in them, you’ve bought them.” He was serious. We all laughed. I asked him if he was fucking retarded. He stated that he just didn’t want anyone peeing in them. I told him that I didn’t even have to mention this to my son and I’m sure that it wouldn’t even enter his mind to piss in his fuckin’ waders. I told him that my 8 year old daughter wouldn’t pee in them. That who in there right mind would pee in someone else’s waders, let alone there own for that matter. We all started picking on him. I told him that he was wasting his life worrying about stupid shit. That it was me most irrational thing I had ever heard and that he had made my day. That I would think about it every time I was down. We picked on him some more. I told him I could tell him just how irrational his fear was. I told him the whole purpose of wearing waders was to stay dry, so why would anyone piss oneself and stand around wet in pee. That it defeated the whole purpose of wearing waders in the first place. He said that he understood and we all continued to laugh. My sides hurt. He truly is one goofy MF.

Colorgenics What BS… AKA… You 2 Have Wasted 5 Min of My Life… AKA… You Know Who You Are - LOL.

2007-05-03T14:43:00.000-07:00

At this time you are feeling 'uptight' and you are urgently in need of rest and relaxation; but perhaps even more than that you need to overcome that feeling that you have been 'hard done by' and treated with a complete lack of consideration. Maybe you have, but whatever may have been the cause of your inherent anxiety, you regard the situation as intolerable. Your are, however, sufficiently competent to turn that situation around - you have overcome similar problems in the past, and really this one isn't too different.

Everything seems to be going against you at this time. Try as you may you are meeting with considerable resistance at every turn. Nothing is going as you would plan. The situation is difficult and you are trying to persist in your objectives against resistance. It would appear that you are being very secretive about your future plans just in case people around you try to thwart you.

Your confidence has been shattered. There are so many things that you would like to do with your life, so many dreams to be fulfilled - and you know that your hopes and dreams are not just figments of your imagination, they are real and you are looking for reassurance from someone. Basically your fears are such that you may be prevented in attaining your hopes and dreams. Even now you would like to broaden your fields of endeavour but in order to develop your 'inner- self' you need peace and solace. You are distressed by the fear that you may be prevented from attaining your goals. What you really need at this particular moment in time is quiet reassurance from someone close to you to restore your confidence.

For whatever the reason, you find it extremely difficult to sustain relationships - that is to sustain them in the manner that you would wish. You are a very gentle sort of person, full of feeling, sensitivity and susceptible to love and affection, looking and longing for a partner with whom you can enjoy 'All things bright and beautiful' - someone with whom you can seek out the more esoteric things of life. But up to now this person has only existed in your imagination. You are very choosy, appreciative, refined and extremely artistic in temperament and it is your hope to seek others who will allow you to form and express your own taste and judgement and who at the same time may assist you in your intellectual or artistic growth.

You are inclined to be too trusting and you feel that you need to be on your guard against the possibility that your endeavours and actions may be misunderstood. Too often you have been taken advantage of and you have been mentally abused. Now you are seeking a relationship which can provide peace of mind, where you can be yourself and not have the need to put on a false front.

Weight Management

2007-05-02T10:06:00.000-07:00

Weight Background

I never hit 140lbs until I was 24 year’s old. Picture a young Mick Jagar’s physique. Not the gargantuan mouth, just the scrawny body type. I dance like him also – jokin’. I smoked from the time I was 13 year’s old at a pack and a half a day until I was 24 at which time I was burning through three packs a day. When I quit I made my way up to 185lbs within a few years. I then took up Muey Thai. (Kickboxing with knees and elbows added in.) I lived around 170lbs for a few years. 2 year’s ago I got down to 155lbs, but my set point was 170lbs. The gym closed and I still stayed around 170-180lbs. Then in august of 2005 I was diagnosed. I went on Meds – started with Depakote and then Seroquel. I got up to 210lbs and me and a friend made a bet who could lose the most weight in a month. I won by losing 30lbs to his 28lbs. Fast-forward 6 months later to the present – I now weigh more than I ever have: 216lbs.

Weight Goal

I want to weigh 175lbs - not too big, not too little. Oh what the hell, lets throw in a timeframe – 6 months. November 1st. That’s close to 7lbs a month, which equates to roughly 2lbs a week. I think I can do it. That is nice and slow, which they say helps remedy the balloon effect. If I lose it more quickly, so be it. 2lbs a week sounds good because I don’t plan on much of an exercise regimen. Actually practicing sports with the kids, pretty much sums it up. I think just not eating after taking my Seroquel will achieve this goal alone. I currently eat until I’m ready to explode after my nightly meds. This will cease today. If I just can’t contain my inner fat bastard on occasion, I will eat a piece of fruit. I will try to update weekly. I think updating will actually help me to stick to it. Lord knows I don’t want to let you guys down. LOL.

Prelude to a Post 2

2007-04-30T18:30:00.000-07:00

I currently look just like the guy on the end, except that the package area is slightly larger. LOL.

I am carrying all my fat in my gut, with slight man-boobs going on.

ASSHOLES

2007-04-30T18:06:00.000-07:00

I was reading Amber's blog and her last post brought up sometime that I am currently stewing over. I didn't even realize exactly how made I was until I read her post. This is exactly what my T-doc was talking about: catastrophic thinking. I have unconsciously been ruminating about this and if I would have continued without realizing, I would likely have snapped. I can now hopeful bitch them out nice and calm like.

A couple of friends went smelt dipping last week. (Netting small fish for frying, at night with flashlights.) I acted interested as they told of their exploits. They said stated that they were going again on Sat night and invited me to go. They also said that I should bring my son; that he would have a good time. Did I mention that THEY invited US. We did a lot of prep work to get ready. It was all my son talked about. I had to buy a license. I had to borrow waders for Ash-boy. I bought batteries for the flashlights and headlamps. Sat we wait and wait. It gets dark. We wait. 10pm comes and I call. No answer at Van Horn's house. I then ring Smity's cell. I get some BS about Van Horn backing out and hr prior and being P-whipped. Sadly he is quite P-whipped. He always gets with chicks that control him. He has such a low personal self-image, but that isn't really any of my business, although I throw it in his face and call him a punk as often as I can. Just as I will the next time I see his no-commitment-keeping-ass. I sardonically jabbed that I really appreciated the call so we didn’t wait around all fucking night for someone to come and actually live up the promise to my son. I hung-up. I will have to contain myself when I go back to work. It will be hard because I already want to smack them around verbally. ASSHOLES.

Prelude to a Post

2007-04-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

BMI calculator for those too lazy to manually compute.

I PASSED

2007-04-27T22:04:00.000-07:00

I aced the exam. I procrastinated and second-guessed myself for over 2 months. I don’t know why I do that to myself. I think likely that it is worry of failure. More like sheer dread of failure. I am now happy. On too my first course of the second semester: Personal Finance. Now that’s funny. Bipolar guy + proper management of one’s personal finance. I think I will let Ash-wife continue to pay the bills for now. LOL.

Later, Ash out…

T-Doc and Homework

2007-04-27T21:57:00.000-07:00

Another reason that I know I was manic on Weds was because of what happened while at the T-doc’s. I talked way too much. I wouldn’t say that I’m usually succinct to her probing questions. But today if she asked an open-ended question I was all over it, branching off into other similar topics and my personal analysis and views on the topics. Her pen was a blur on the page. I was babbling. She knew I was manic. Oh yea, funny thing that happened. I do think I might have pissed her off. If I did, she covered it well. But I know how it pisses me off someone does it to me. Anyway, while she was on a drawn-out diagnosis of one of my mental inadequacies, I get this shit-eating grin on my face. You know the kind. Where it is obvious that you think something is hilarious and are holding back. She stops what she was saying. She says, “do tell what you are thinking right now.” I say, “I don’t know,” yet it makes me smile even more. To my defense, I honestly didn’t know why I was smiling. She says in a nonchalant, non-pissed-off way, like she was actually curious, “no really, I’d like to know what you are smiling about.” I start laughing and say, “me also.” She bored of the verbal tit-for-tat and went back to her analysis of ineptitudes. About 10 mins later we go through the same conversation again because a smile snuck through my earnest attentive façade.

I tell you what, I have a guy that works for me that does that shit, and a few times when I was in a irritable frame of mind, I snapped on him. If I remember right, it went something like, “what the fuck’s so funny?” followed up with a quick, “what the fuck you smiling for then?” I am working on it guys so bear with me. These outbursts are few and far between for a while now. But I’m medicated now and also more atoned and cognizant of my moods and actions.

I told her of my quest to solve this thing and that I have begun schooling in psychology. Of course my analytical mind thinks that there has to be a finite solution to this illness. Actually there is, but neuroscientists and geneticists haven’t yet pinpointed it. Maybe in my lifetime, yet if not, definitely in my children’s lifetime. OK, I digress, back to the paragraph’s topic. I think sometimes that it irks them a little that I’m studying their craft. Like I might be second-guessing their diagnoses. They seem to calm down on the superfluous psychobabble a little bit, as if I might say BS or something. Maybe it’s just my insecurities. That’s more likely. It’s just that quick look in their eyes when you first say it.

Another thing that we decided about me is that I feel that I’m intellectually superior than most people. I agree with her. Not that I am per se, but that mentally I feel that way. She says that it is part of my disorder. I told her that I know that it is irrational and that ultimately I know that I’m not brighter than everyone around me. But I do at times just seethe at peoples’ incompetence. I can’t help it. We discussed that everyone is better at certain things than the next person. Everyone has their attributes and that I must learn to humble myself somewhat. This will be hard for me; my opinions just seem so right. LOL. She told me if I get to lofty about myself to remember that I’m bipolar and most people are normal. Damn, she slapped me down. I can handle it; I’m a big boy. I have a lot of different things to work on. Time to delve in.

She game me homework. I already have enough on my plate, but I guess healing has a cost. So I must put in some effort. BOoo. She said that what I will be working on is, catastrophic thinking, cognitive restructuring, and what if – self talk. She gave me a course book with a couple of post-its in it. One is an exercise – the daily record of dysfunctional thinking. I hate charting shit, especially personal feelings and shit. This will be tedious at best. The other one is a chapter on visualization. What the hell do these 2 chapters have to do with the 3 things I am supposed to be learning about. I have to go back on Mon so I need to invest a little time with this book. As I learn every week, I plan on commenting and analyzing my treatment and posting here. Hopefully we all can learn from my P-doc.

Lastly – does anyone else feel raped and dirty after a therapy session? I’ve only had 2 and I already feel stripped and naked after I leave. I feel like I divulged some deep dark secrets that I usually hide in the dark corners of my psyche. She knows how to pry loose things that I don’t even think about and never really realized how they actually affected me. I don’t know if I like this. I know that it is part of the healing process, but this is my personal info. My dad has already been blamed for some of my social and relations foibles. Makes me wonder how much I’ve fucked up my kids. Hopefully I have time to counteract some of the negative traits that they have learned by environment osmosis.

Lately I've Been on the Up's

2007-04-26T02:29:00.000-07:00

I’ve had a good week guys. I truly did. The family came home. I was on vacation from work. I think sometimes life can trigger your moods. I had very little stress = I am happy. I have nothing to stew over. I slept well also. All that combined to make Ash a happy camper. Oh yea, also I only have 1 day of LSS sponsor training and 1 night to work this week. I took the last 2 days off. That equates to 6 days off again and 6 total days at work this month.

Today I felt real good. I honestly think I am a bit manic at the moment. I mentioned as much to Ash-wife and she kind of got curt with me and stated, “Can’t you just be happy?” She thinks that I like to blame my illness for things sometimes. The reason that I said that I thought that I was manic was due more to the increased thoughts that were plaguing my brain. I keep getting sidetracked with the random thoughts that keep popping in. But I didn’t tell her that. Just let her keep thinking she knows what’s going on in my head.

Here’s another reason that I know I’m manic. It felt like the car was barely moving. I kept looking down and finding myself speeding. I kept doing this the whole way to my therapist’s office. I would try to watch my speed and then go on autopilot while some stray thought took over. The problem was that autopilot thought he was in a jet. I actually put the car on cruise on a street that the speed limit was 40mph. I then commenced to zone-out and when I looked down I noticed that I had pushed down the gas pedal even though I was on cruise. I was doing 60. Well, it caught up with me on the ride home. I decided to surprise Ash-wife with an extra value meal from McDonald’s. As I was going home, I was laughing and talking to myself, mimicking my therapist’s facial expressions and gesticulations. I look up and there’s a cop coming. I look down and I running 70mph. I slow down and watch as he does a U-ey. I surreptitiously watched in the rearview like if I didn’t move much he might just zoom around me on his way to a murder or something. But no, he flips on the dome and I turn on the blinker and pull over to the curb. I think to myself if God is testing me today. I feel like Lieutenant Dan from Forest Gump up in the crow’s nest in the storm. “Is that all you got!”

Side note: I think I’ve figured out why they take so long behind you before they finally pull you over. No not an obvious reason like running your plates so they know to call backup or not. No, it’s to make you sit there and suffer while you are thinking up excuses and just hoping he won’t pull you over. It’s all about the suspense and delivery baby. Assholes.

He walks up to the car and asks the standard, if I knew how fast I was going. I lie and say no. He throws back at me 70 in a 55. I put on my best puppy-dog eyes, but he couldn’t see them due to my shades. He asks how my driving record is. I tell him crystal – just perfectly clear. Then I add in. “I’m not a speeder sir. Well, I guess I am today, but I don’t normally speed sir. (I thought about telling him that I was trying to get these fries home before they got cold, and that he was currently fuckin’ up that plan. But I restrained myself. Hey, maybe I wasn’t too manic today anyways.) Standard license, registration, and proof of insurance BS. I have to tell him that I was in the wife’s car and that my wallet was actually in my vehicle. I then rummage around in the glovebox. I find the registration quickly, but all I find after much duress is an out-of-date proof of insurance. So he heads back to his squad car as I stew about Ash-wife’s upcoming bitch-session. I know their will be a lot of blame and paying the bills talk, over and over and over till the point that I get pissed-off. I just know this will be another test of my control of my anger. While I’m still beating myself up for my stupidity he comes back. He says that he waived my speeding ticket and my license issue. I think my jaw dropped because he paused. Maybe it was just for effect. He then tells me that he only cited me for the no proof of insurance and that I had 10 days to show proof at the court house and that I’ll likely get a $10 fine or something like that. I thanked him profusely. Drama extinguished, I went home with our cold fries to tell of my/our good fortune. Damn I dodged a bullet there. I would say good Karma, but I was speeding because I was dogging my therapist’s foibles. I’m such a dick. LOL.

I only got angry once this week. The wife and I got in an argument over something that we both disagreed strongly over. I removed myself from the situation after only arguing a little. I felt myself heating up, wanting to start yelling, so I told her I was stepping out for a few, and the boy and I went to the movie store and took our time finding a few movies. I calmed down very quick. I made a few, “your mom drives me nuts sometimes,” comments and then I let it go. I got home and didn’t even bring it up. I didn’t have to “win” like I usually feel the need to do. A character flaw on my part I realize, but it is a hard one to work on. So I am proud of that small step toward not being an overbearing asshole.

Later, Ash out…

Funny Story - At Least to Me

2007-04-21T11:46:00.000-07:00

Butterfly wrote a post about those spring-loaded pens and some peoples’ annoying habit of constantly clicky-clacking them. That reminded me of a story when I first started out in my supervisor role. I was a Relief Sup at the time and I was hiring a small group of individuals that I would have to work with on a daily basis. And yes I try to not be aloof and critical as I’m judging candidates. I just pick the best person for the job to the best of my abilities. Sound defensive? Good, because I am.

I was an interviewer at my company doing an entry position interview and the interviewee was doing that incessant pen click. He actually held up this pen right in front of his crest above his lap and clicked his pen loudly for the whole interview that lasted around 20 min or so. It was obviously a nervous tick. But man was in driving me nuts.

And speaking of nuts, he was I think, I could actually see it in his eyes. As the interviewing group was progressing and questions are being asked, his application was being passed around. It was passed to me by the other Relief Sup and he gave me a weird look and I started reading it. I am a very immature guy humor wise. Plus I was likely 25 or 26 at the time. (The other Relief is my good friend and we can’t look at each other at times when we both find something funny.) Anyways I was already kind of laughing at this guy’s unstable demeanor and odd answers to the queries. I get to the question that reads – Have you been ever been convicted of a felony in the past 5 years? (This guy wrote – yes. I was convicted of felonious assault with intent to do bodily harm with a pair of scissors. I just got out of prison.) I think a quick cutoff giggle popped out. I could see answering the fucking question, but why add-in the scissors part and the just getting out part. All of a sudden his red-headed dude’s pen-clicking started looking a little menacing, yet I couldn’t stop wanting to laugh. I look over at my friend and we both had to turn away from each others’ gazes or we would have busted out laughing. A few times after that I had to put his application up in front of my face because I had a huge wanting-to-laugh smile on my face. I know it was unprofessional, but I’m telling you I just couldn’t stop myself. I straighten myself mentally for a sec and start reading again. It comes to my turn to ask a question. (Everyone is asked the same exact questions to keep cohesion amongst participants.)

“What if you were on the Finish End and noticed your Supervisor was not wearing his earplugs. This was the very loud place that you walked through on your tour. What would you do?”

This dude says, “I would go up to him and forcefully suggest that he put in his earplugs.” My clipboard goes up in front of my face again, up to my eyeballs, my hyper-smile hidden from him. I didn’t want to piss-off this red-headed firecracker. (All I can image is this dude coming up to me and putting scissors to my neck and saying, “I would highly suggest that you place your hearing protection in your ears. It is for your own safety. Hurry up mother fucker. I will rape you in your ass. Hurry up.” I know, I’m retarded. I am so immature. I truly can’t help myself.)

I straightened up again and lowered the clipboard. I start reading his app again. It gets to references. He only had one and where it asked for contact info, he wrote deceased. I lose it again and up goes the clipboard again to my eyeballs and my body shook with uncontrollable silent laughter. Who the fuck would give a dead man as a reference? What? Do we have to have a fucking séance to talk to his reference? (I go right back to my mental imagery – him holding scissors up to some old man’s neck and telling him to write the letter. “Hurry up motherfucker, I will rape you in your ass.” And then at the end of the letter the last word scrawls off down the page as he dies. I have a very morbid sense of humor, I know.) It was obvious that this guy wasn’t right. Good thing that the session ended right about then because I never lowered my clipboard again. I shook this guy’s hand reaching over the table as I held my clipboard up with my other hand.

I got reprimanded pretty sternly. My friend and I were not allowed to ever interview at the same time again. But looking back, it was worth the memory.

Chronological Update

2007-04-20T22:39:00.000-07:00

Weds, 17th – Day 9

I visited my P-doc for the first time. She seemed nice and more importantly, competent. I told her about my 4 major issues amidst her probing questions. Anxiety attacks; being distant; sleep issues; and anger and its subgroups: hyper-irritability, uncontrollable anger, and impulse anger. She said we will start with the uncontrollable anger. We talked about when I was having this form of anger and found that I was usually geeking my own self up. She called it catastrophic thinking. It is when you just keep think about and issue, ruminating about it, harping on how pissed you are at the issue or person, and running scenarios and rebuttals and the like over a period of time. It doesn’t have to be a long time. So when you do get into the situation, you are quick to anger. Quite often your anger is irrational, leaving you to take simple comments as initiated confrontation, and compounding your anger. I agree with this assessment. I know that I do this to myself. I am actually horribly guilty of this. When I finally get in the situation I have bad anxiety and I’m ready to be condescending and will likely snap at the slightest perceived transgression. So anyways, she is getting me some materials on the subject together for next week’s appointment for me to take home with me. I guess there are techniques to defuse this catastrophic thinking before it leads to anger and emotional instability.

Did quite a bit of IM’ing with Ash-wife and the kids. She was very open in our conversation. It was a lot more personal than the earlier e-mails. The live human element added to our openness and healing as a couple.

Thurs, 18th – Day 10

I went to see my P-doc. He lowered my Resperdal in half. His goal is to totally eliminate it because he says that it is merely a duplicate of my Seroquel and isn’t really needed. I saw him for 15 min. It was a 2 hr drive there and 2 hrs back. My new goal: find someone closer.

I went to Walmart and bought the kids some things, myself a surround sound system, and an impulse item – half a dozen roses for ash-wife. I call Ash-boy on my way into town and told him to be ready to get the gifts when I stop out front.

Soon as I get home the phone was ringing. It was Ash-wife personally on the phone. This, as you are well aware, was my first communication with her without an intermediary. She thanked me for my generosity and for thinking of her. We talked for 25 min or so. I put on my best “good guy” charm. It was sincere fully. I talked about my treatment and how it might be a while before any real solid results. I told her, hell it was going to be another week before we even would see each other again. I mentioned her coming home with the kids on multiple occasions, with the promise of being on my best behavior while getting better. She said she’d think about it.

Fri, 19’th – day 11

I stayed up all night Thurs with my Bro playing internet poker. I finally took my Seroquel at 9am and ended up falling asleep at 10:30. I awoke to the front door opening at 4pm and Ash-wife standing at the foot of my bed. We had a heart-to-heart as Ash-boy was sent to bring all of their stuff back into the house from the SUV.

I WILL treat them better. I WILL remain calm as I get help with my illness. We both realize that I will get upset at times because it is the very nature of the beast. I am sick. But I will put forth every effort that I can to be a good father and huband.

Thanks everyone for all of your support through this moment in time as I stood at a main crossroad in my life. I have been blessed to traverse the path that I have asked for. Now let’s see where it leads. Wish me luck.

Meds Are Kicking In

2007-04-17T21:03:00.000-07:00

Good News – not that good news, but it’s getting there.

We have been conversing via e-mail somewhat. She still loves me and plans, I think, to come back to me. She just wants me to get myself and anger under control. She actually thinks that she is my trigger. I don’t agree, but who knows? Anyways, we are getting along and she hasn’t given up on me – yet.

I went down and took my psych/business exam. I think I did well. The one section that I am worried about is English. I suck at English. I sure hope a squeaked it out. I will be devastated if I fail and have to take it again and go on academic review. Please no. But on a positive note, I got my ass out of bed. I actually tried to talk myself out going. The lady said that Mondays were quiet days without much traffic. I started throwing that around in my procrastinator’s gray matter and it almost stagnated my progress. But in the end I went in and took it.

As an aside – don’t you just fucking hate when people try to include you in their conversation without you being necessarily in it. Sorry for the excessively drawn-out, yet vague question. Ex: I’m trying to take my exam and in walks these two high school chicks. I’m sitting in an out-of-the-way spot with only 2 tables. The rest of the library is pretty much empty, yet they come over and sit at the table adjacent to mine. They immediately start talking loud for my benefit, seemingly oblivious to the teetering mound of course books and other notebooks littering my table. They start talking all big and were peeking to see if I was getting all the “Grown-up” talk; I noticed through my peripheral. They started talking about the cool stuff they do like drinking and smoking and going out with guys – all for my benefit. Like I really give a shit. I hate that crap. It is usually young people that want the crowd to hear of their grown-up exploits. Also kids like to do this while waiting in the line at stores. I only had to suffer through this for a ½ hr, because I finished, just as the librarian noticed the girls and came over to shoo them away. I stood up and said, “I’m done let the young ‘women’ stay there.” They blushed and I left.

The message that I left with my P-doc last Thurs apparently didn’t fall on deaf ears, because I got a call yesterday saying that they hooked me up with a T-doc that comes into town 3 days a week. She called me back and we set up an appointment for tomorrow. So I am pretty nervous. I will get though it.

We started IM’ing a little tonight and talked a lot and that was nice. She initiated it the conversation. She is going to come over and take care of the bills while I’m at my P-doc’s on Thurs. I hate bills. Good to talk live though.

Well I need some sleep and the Seroquel is kicking in. Night all.

Still Getting Angry Like the Hulk in a Flash

2007-04-17T17:20:00.000-07:00

IM message with my Mom. This is why I have to get therapy. Simple shit like this gets me all worked up. She just couldn't get it and my anxiety started kicking in and I was getting irritated. And take into account that I was waiting around 1 to 2 min between each of her comments. It took ten min before I calmed down, although I stopped hyperventilating in just a min or two. It still shouldn't make me mad like that. Hopefully the lady tomorrow can start to teach me some exercises or techniques to alleviate my stress levels and my quick temper. I'm such a spazz. I need to get this under control before the Fam comes home. I hope I can change. It hurts me to be this way. I lust for patience.

As an aside - some hook me up. Tell me to change font color. Also does anyone know how to put that line through words?

leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
hey son
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
how are you?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
sup
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
do you know how well you did on you exam today?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
I'm only worried about my English exam
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
oh, how many subjects did u take?
you should have taken my english book home. lol
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
lol
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
PIC of smiley
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
5 subjects
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
wow
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
thats a lot
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
when will u find out your scores?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
i got done an hr early - i should have taken that time to really go into that English Ex
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
She said she would send it out that day.
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
oh, over the internet
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
no no
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
snail mail
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
lol
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
haha
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
what are u eating?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
I got sick of playing on the $25 tables
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
so I put $100 on the $100 table
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
I'm currently up $130
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
u playing now?great
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
First time I've played in a long time
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
yes UB
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
trying to get there. don't know if i can.
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
lol
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
pop up ultimate buddy
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
and then click on my name and table
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
trying, lizard just finished
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
downloading now
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
I already did that for you I thought
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
u know me
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
not taking me to table
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ub screen
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
sign in
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
you see the table that im at
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
in buddy
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
i see maplewood
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
see the triangle by my name
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
double click map
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
maplewood
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
working
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
log in
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
screen
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
ok then hit poker
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
poker tab up top
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
log in first?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
you still haven't logged in
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
sry, son
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
please log in
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
i did
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
then i hit poker
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
ok now try double clicking maplewood
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
where table to play is at
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
ok forget buddy
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
go to the poker tab at the top of the screen
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
now what do you see
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
when i hit poker tab, it takes me to where the tables to play are
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
good
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
at top click real money
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
now whaat
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ok
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
there
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
there, where?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
did u click the real money button
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
don't see anything
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
have u clicked the poker button
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
poker/real money.................
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
u are making this real hard
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
now what
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
?
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
sry
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
use to be easy
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
now click games
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
PIC of a rainbow
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
it is right below real money button
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
where is that
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
oh
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
click it yet
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
yes , nothing happened
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
just shows games to bet on
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
now poker button and games buttons and real money buttons should all be red
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
now below games button hit holdem button
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ok
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
nothing happened
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
now look below at the games tables
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ok
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
see where it says stakes
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
what does it say
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
I could of actually drove over there and did it for u by now lol
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
what does it say\
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
money needed for table
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
ok close UB
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
X out
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ok
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
talk to me
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
is ultimate buddy still up
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
hello
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
are we going to start over
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
what do u have open right bnow
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
u start off
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
from very beginning
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
nothing
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
ok open U buddy
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
hello
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ok
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
see
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ur mname
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
do you see me and my table
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
now it says download
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
yes
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
down load?
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
do you see my name
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
name and room
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
ok double click my name what a sec and tell me what it did
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
My room I mean
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
maplewood
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
yes double click it
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
ok, thanks
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
it did not work earlier
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
are you at my table now
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
yes, i see u son
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
man
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
lol
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
u killed me there
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
I'm glad I have therapy tomorrow lol
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
sry
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
hanging by a few hairs, huh
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
No I punched my keyboard once and said the lords name in vain
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
chill
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
out
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
I know
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
did u have ur pill today, haha
mcash2@sbcglobal.net says:
It's hard sometimes
leldot@yahoo.com (E-mail address not verified) says:
i know

Lions and Tigers and Bears - Oh My - Rinse and Repeat Over and Over at a Faster Pace

2007-04-16T18:13:00.000-07:00

I got really spooked out last night. I got ready to got to bed and turned off the TV im the living room and turned off all the lights and walked down the hall. As I was walking suddenly I heard a TV for about 3 sec. I jumped and turned around and walked back into the living room. Maybe I did that double click thing with the power button. Of course total darkness and no TV. I decided to check the kids’ rooms. Ash-girl is notorious for leaving her TV on and they were visiting that day. No TV on. I checked my room and Ash-boy’s even though I knew that he took it. Yep, still gone. I then heard it again – it was like TV background conversation. Gooseflesh erupted all over and I went into a full-fledged panic attack. The dogs weren’t barking. They are extremely acute to anything out of the ordinary. The last time I didn’t respond to their barking my wallet and radio was stolen from my truck. That made me turn on all the lights and check the house thoroughly and outside also. I left the outside lights on just in case some punks were prowling around my vehicle. I then went into my room and irrationally stared at the wall by the room’s hallway door off and on, fully expecting a head to pop around to look at me. My fear was a tangible thing. Likely over spooked by this, due to my wife’s belief in spirits and that shit and the fact that she has said on multiple occasions that she has seen 2 different ones in my house.

Hopefully it was just a residual reverberation in my mind left from the TV’s droning into the sudden silence and darkness. Hopefully it was some mundane event and not my first psychotic episode. I don’t think I could handle hearing shit. I know I could not handle seeing shit. No matter what it was it total had me frazzled. I’m taking my seroquel earlier tonight so maybe I can get to sleep before 4am.

“You Hear Jimmy, You Just Can’t Hear Jimmy!”

2007-04-16T13:29:00.000-07:00

I’m turning into a girl – my genitals are shrinking and my breasts are enlarging. Jokin’. Just being goofy. But lyrics to songs used to just flow between my ears without much retention, yet now songs that I’ve heard merely the beat to, have opened up to reveal greater more detailed meaning. So many love songs, so little time. Damn, I’m a punk. That’s not being negative, that’s my ego, and he’s Tuff.

I feel good today. I’m getting manic – it feels good. I shall breathe it in while it lasts.

It’s round 2 and the question is worth the prized toaster oven emblazoned with my smiling visage. (Worth lots I tell ya.) Name from whence that quotation came?

Later, Ash out.

I WILL...

2007-04-16T12:39:00.000-07:00

Why do I fear somuch? Why do I procrastinate? Fear of failure is the likely culprit.

I couldn’t make myself getup this morn. I had my exam scheduled, but I just couldn’t get from the confines of my bed. I’ll make some lame-ass excuse and go in to take it tomorrow. It was very inconsiderate of me. It’s hard to incorporate positive monikers into my “self-talk” when you do shit like this. Self-respect is earned. I now need to be positive and earn it. I will try.

I just opened my curtains for the first time in 7 days. It is sunny outside. The latest snowstorm’s shedding is melting fast. The warmth coming in on me feels great. I think the sun will do me good.

I have 5 bags of garbage on the front deck that I have failed to put in the alley for pick-up for 2 weeks now.

Thanks Mom. You are right it is time to stop the self-pity and step-up to the plate. May I have the arms of A-Rod.

I WILL get up.

I WILL take my exam tomorrow.

I WILL not drink.

I WILL start sleeping for only 8 hrs a night instead of 10 to 12.

I WILL pick-up the house.

I WILL put the trash out on Thursday.

I WILL like myself better.

Day 6 and a Heartfelt E-mail

2007-04-15T21:03:00.000-07:00

Psychology/business exam tomorrow. I probably won’t sleep much tonight even with 300mg of Seroquel. I think I am becoming somewhat immune. My mind is swimming. I have a lot to wade through currently. School, work, and the big one: personal life. School and work can fuckoff. Other than the fact that I want to pass the exam. I don’t really show that fact by my anti-studiousness towards my courses. I just know that I will hate myself if I fail.

The kids came over today. I just couldn’t get up. I was hung over and utter depressed this morning. I did go in the living room where I remained in a catatonic stupor for the first few hours of there multi-visits. (Grandma lives 2 blocks over.) It didn’t affect my children much, as they played out in the back yard mostly. When they were inside, they lived on the computer watching Naruto vids and spoofs on You-tube and other sites that they frequent. Finally we all sat together and laughed while we watched Spongebob and Patrick’s lunacy.

When they left I called over to the in-laws’ house, but Ash-wife said through my son, the intermediary, that she wasn’t ready to physically talk to me, yet would converse via letters or e-mails. The boy called a short time later and said that she sent me an e-mail. She keeps telling me to find myself and love myself so I can give them the love that they deserve. I don’t quite understand these statements. I will print my reply at the conclusion of the post. I would appreciate some feedback here from everyone that is willing. Your honest opinions. Mom your non-bipolar thoughts would be helpful, because you see through her eyes somewhat. Am I irrational guys to think that now is when I need her with me more than ever? 14 years she has put up with my swinging ass and now when I’m right on the cusp of getting a handle on this evil disorder, her, my one strength giving me stability, has left me to my own vices.

My mom then came over while my dad went to church to preach Sunday night service. She acted as though I was some fragile egg that must be coddled. I hate that shit. Let me fucking have it. And as mom usually does at some point, she kicked out the God talk. I told her to leave it be and she did. Sorry church goers, though I respect you, you must respect my decisions also. Me and God just haven’t seen eye-to-eye for a long time. Although my dad is now a preacher, I didn’t grow up a PK. Actually while I was in my vulnerable learning years my father was at times a biker and a drug dealer, yet always an utter asshole that treated my sister, mom, and I all like shit not even worthy for his boot sole. Now that he has changed somewhat he thinks that I should somehow be able forget those years where I meant shit. He made me hate God because he took him in. That is one reason why I feel so bad about how I treat my children. Although I didn’t often spank them while they growing up, the mental abuse wasn’t good. They would often come to me for affection and I would be in manic mode and scream in their little faces like they were shit. I am deeply ashamed at my actions. I was evil and sometimes I still am. Though I have my screaming spells, my current form of mental abuse towards my whole family is my distance. I often live in my own little world and exclude them from my existence. I don’t do this on purpose either, but I know it hurts them as much as my occasional hollering. It was getting to the point that I would sleep all day, then eat in bed, shower, and leave for work. No interaction with dad and husband. How long would anyone be able to put up with that? But truly I think therapy will give me a new lease on life. I will be the Ash that they love, whom has shown up less frequently as of late. But it is going to be a process.

I now leave you with my e-mailed response.

I do not understand what you're saying. How can I show you and the kids the love that you need if I can't see you? I miss you and the kids badly. What is it that you are waiting for in my life? I will likely never love myself; it is part of my disability. The only thing I know for sure is that I love you and I will try anything that this world has to offer that could help me treat you guys right. I don't get angry on purpose. I don’t act distant and hide in my own world on purpose. I don’t mean to neglect my family. I do love you guys; I have trouble expressing that love and affection. I have trouble telling you my feelings because I am a man and am insecure about my shortcomings. A husband is supposed to be strong and protect his family. It hurts me deeply that I am the one that you need to be protected from. I often stay away physically sometimes because I know that I am manic and will be aggravated easily. I am sorry. With therapy I feel that I can treat you all right and be there for you emotionally like a normal family.

This is going to be a process for me to get better. I can't lie to you and say that I will never yell again in my life. I just can't; it is part of my disability. What I can do is get therapy to help me learn to quell the beast inside me. I did not mean to hit you with that handle in the leg. I was having a fit like a fucking little 2 year old and I threw it. But I know it is not the intent, it is the result that counts. I am sorry. I truly am. You don't deserve to be hit. I am not a physically abusive man. I sadly am a mentally abusive fuck. I am sorry for all the years you guys have had to deal with that. But remember that it isn’t because I don’t love you or care about you. It is my illness. I’m not making excuses here, it is the truth. I have been trying. I take my meds and get them tweaked every few months trying to stop these evil things about me. It’s not about fucking finding myself. I have found myself for 14 years and you are it. You keep me sane. You are the love of my life. I need you deeply. I am sorry that I can’t tell you these things daily, but believe me I love you whole-heartedly.

I think you are a very strong woman; for you to put your kids ahead of your feelings for me is something that my mom never had the heart to do. Once again I can't say that I will never snap and yell and throw a tantrum. I can get treatment. I thought that my Psyciatrist was giving me therapy, but as we now know he was just asking how I was doing so he could change my meds. The meds have suppressed my evil streak, but I think only psychoanalysis with a therapist will have the right effect, and make me the Ash you and the kids deserve. But you must understand that therapy is also a life-long procedure. It might take months before I am totally stable. What you need to decide is if you want to come home and support and help me through this tough time or if you want me to try by myself. I truly don't think me sitting in a house lonely and depressed is really the best way from me to get through this. But I will accept your decision. But I will say this. I will try my very best to treat you right while I get my meds changed again and go through therapy if you guys come home. I will try to leave the room if we argue. I will try to talk and smile and be a part of the family daily. These things will be hard for me, yet I promise to give it my best. I love you.

I will never be whole with you not in my life. I need you. The house seems so large. Your tough love is killing me. But I know you are trying to help me and at the same time protect the kids. But honestly I don't know how long it will take before therapy will give you your Ash, but I think you should come home to me and support me through this. I love you guys and will except your decision. But if you aren't coming home until I do something specific, you should let me know what that thing is so I can work towards that goal so I can get you guys back as soon as possible.

Let me know. I miss you.

Day 5

2007-04-14T23:57:00.000-07:00

OK, it’s 3am and just got home from the game. Like a dumbass I drive and had to have someone tailgate me home. I don’t think a DUI would have really impressed her. My head is killing me. I also forgot to take my pills before I left. God does my head hurt. I’m going to stop drinking from here on out. I am going to sleep in until this hangover is dead and then I think I will try to call her. Hopefully she will at least speak to me. It's one of those moaning skull-aches. You know - the ones that are trying to teach you a lesson.

later

Day 4 and Counting

2007-04-13T20:11:00.001-07:00

Well here I am drunk and wanting. I don’t drink often. Well that’s not exactly true. I have been drinking a bit more as of late. I know my wife is worried about that.

She dropped the kids off after school today. That was nice. They acted weird around me. I explained the situation again. My son couldn’t really look at me. My daughter gave me many hugs; they boy at entrance and exit. Ash-wife sent a letter with them. I had tears in my eyes as I read my fate. I really didn’t quite understand parts, but it was brutally honest and negative. I don’t think she is coming back for a little while. She ended it with, “the ball’s in your court.” So I think once I get a little therapy she will try again to deal with me. Her big statement was that she had to protect the kids and that they were somewhat afraid of me. They apparently asked about what if I snapped while they were with me. I assured them not to worry. They hung around for 2 ½ hrs and made an appearance and then said they wanted to go back to mom. I hugged them and dropped them off.

I actually have to give her props for being strong enough to what she is doing. Leaving the security of financial stability and a long relationship must be tough. She has always been strong. Shit she told my dad to fuck off and he isn’t even allowed at my house anymore. I think her strength is what has held me together all these year. Before I met her I was a druggie and a drunk that worried more about partying than working.

So I sit here alone watching Gladiator on the 51” flatscreen. The sound system utterly sucks; there is a constant hum. I will buy a cheap surround sound soon. I have downed 8 beers as of yet. I hate being alone. Last night I took my 200mg of Seroquel at 11pm last night and it was 4:30am before exhaustion forced the Sandman’s hand. I awoke every hr until 2 when the dogs’ incessant rolled me out of bed.

I stopped being a negative punk and went down and talked to my proctor and set up my exam for Monday. Shit I haven’t studied in 2 months. Hopefully I pass. If not fuck it, I have a retake of the course exam that I fail. At least I am stepping up to the plate and giving it a swing.

I got the phonebook out. I call Pathways (a mental heath outfit) to maybe setup a local appointment with a therapist. They gave me the runaround, making sure I wasn’t totally unstable and ready to put the pills in my mouth. They basically told me to get with my P-doc. Thanks assholes. She did have one good idea though; she said that maybe they could get me an appointment with a T-doc and the same day as my P-doc appointment, which is on the 19th. I called my fucking P-doc’s office. The main receptionist said that he was out for the day. 2 fucking days and not even the decency for a callback. What if I was in crisis? She said she’d send me to his personal receptionist. I got an answering machine. Real nice. Now it’s the weekend.

I’m going to get drunk now later, Ash out…

Home alone 3

2007-04-12T19:18:00.000-07:00

Quick update. I am sitting here alone yet another day. 3rd day in a row. I tried to call, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I think she will likely drop the kids off after school tomorrow. That will be nice. I miss them. I will wait a day or 2 and then try calling again. Stupid Dr didn’t call me back today. I slept with the phone and a pad and pen beside my bed. Asshole. I sit here now alone watching the Star Wars trilogy as I eat Doritos and salsa for dinner. Whoever said the bachelor’s life is a great thing is truly a retarded asshat.

Later, Ash out…

An Old Journal

2007-04-12T19:11:00.000-07:00

I found a small journal. Half of the pages are missing; the spiral binding packed with remnants of the missing sheets. What was on them, I have no idea. It is from late winter 2005, when I was in the deepest depression I can recall. It was the winter before I was diagnosed. My bleakest winter. Although I don’t talk about living in the dream-realm more than the waking world that winter. I can’t believe I can still eat ramen noodles. (Hey I spelled it right that time. LOL.) I had actually gone to an MD for my anger and depression when it got so bad that I was told at work that I was on my last straw. He mentioned seeing a P-doc and I laughed at him and told him that I had broke down some major walls just coming in to him with my personal emotional shit. He prescribed me anti-depressants. I would eventually swallow my pride after I didn’t get better and took his advice to go to a shrink. Am I crazy? Dumbass, I thought.

Since I hit my twenties I have always wanted to write a novel, but I never had the resolve to follow through. It was actually one of my obsessions at one point. I wrote a hundred pages that flowed forth like the mildest of wines. I slowly taught myself to use, close to correct grammar, from reading fantasy novels. You can definitely tell the first chapter. LOL. Maybe I’ll go back and rewrite it. Yea right, who am I kidding. English wasn’t my strong subject in school. Actually no subject was. I quit in the ninth grade after years of drugs and skipping school. Sad thing was I could go in on Friday the first time all week and usually pass tests. Teachers hated that. Matter of fact, they hated my guts. I will have to go into my fucked-up childhood at some point in the future. I truly was a piece of shit. You’ll love it.

Anyway, back to the set-up. The first few items are jotted excepts from mental chapters of various books that will never come to be. The rest are a few posts of feelings from my pre-diagnosed mind and also a few personal events of that time. There are also a lot of poker thoughts and stratagems in the journal, but I’ll not bore you with that shit; that’s what my poker blog is for.

I found it to be intriguing and overtly nostalgic. You might not find it so, yet it is a tiny glimpse into a brief period of my life. Nothing major, just stuff. Plus I feel like writing at the moment. Too bad you can’t see all the doodling in the margins. Hey, I home alone in this house, what else am I fucking supposed to do? There’s always poker… Na.

Boring, but if you like boring shit - Here we go. Oh yea, I fixed some spelling. Believe me you’ll appreciate that.

He could smell the ocean here; briny tang with a slight tinge of something that made him think of rotting crabs.

The slender contortionist of a cat repeatedly licked its own spine, occasionally pausing to nip at a flea, and then right back to its self-bathing.

The abacus in his head went “click”; the weight of the bead like a brick weighing on his soul.

A wind blew across my soul. Like rolling over in my own grave. They are here for me.

It was a cold rain. He walked out scrunching his neck like a threatened turtle, and leaning his head towards the driving wind and rain as if it would somehow shield him from the maelstrom. ~ tempest.

“Bjord is on his deathbed and I can na’ leave,” he pleaded to the old crone.
“Here, hey now, this poultice… that’s what you can do. All by yourn’ self. Made from mugwort and the blackest salve… among other things.” Her rotten teeth seemed to dance loosely in her gums. “The blacker, the better they say. He he,” she cackled absently. She pshawed with a puff of air and rolled her knowing eyes as she watched his back fade into the distance.

2/13/05

Day before Valentine’s Day. Amber and I are cleaning the bedroom. Nice and sunny outside today.

Feeling a little nostalgic going through stuff, especially old papers and shit.

I’m going to take old copies of my book to work. Going to try to go through all them and update my “pure” copy and hopefully find the parts that are currently missing because of cheap-ass corrupt hard disks.

Maybe, hopefully, it gets me motivated to write. (F-damn I keep trying to write hopefully with a fucking F. Damn dyslectic mind. LOL.) Hopefully starting this journal will also do that.

I need to do something.

2/15/05

Kick-ass – already I forgot to write. So much for motivation to write. The only thing that is escalating is my depression. Come on spring. Cabin fever sucking.

All work and no play makes Ash a dull boy. LOL.

Devine Wind.

2/22/05

Been awhile – switched doctors today. Now Dr Rao – hope he’s good.

Back to work in the morning, but only 2 days this week ‘cause I took 2 days off to take Ash-wife over to Iron Mt. to neurologist. Roads were bad there (on the way) almost wrecked once going around a corner – Tracker slid. Warmed up over night and during the day – roads were dry on the ride home. We have to go back my 1st day off on Fri. so Ash-wife can get EEG done.

Pokery stuff.

Cleaned the fish tank today.

Pokery stuff again.

Shit – shit – shit

I want a Jack Russell Terrier. They are pretty cool. I’ll get a male one and breed it with my Min-Pin Mindy. I’m just babbling now cause I feel like writing.

3/5/05

Oh yea, Ash-wife and I, we went to the casino today. We ended up $8 ahead. LOL. Ash-wife played the slots and lost $100 – but luckily I won $108 at the No Limit Holdem table. I got lucky though, because I was way out of my league. I had a bunch of Pros at my table all night.

Pokery stuff.

3/14/05

Playing poker again – of course. Having fun. Problem is it’s all I think about. Addictive personality. Though I know my limits. Not that wrapped up in it. Just like trying new systems and methods. I’m not willing to spend much $ at it though. Which is a good thing :)

Weird thing – I type and talk so much online that when I write I want to use those goofy shorthand things. Ex: TY, LOL. Retarded yes? Also, when people talk to me I have to stop myself from saying TY instead of Thank You.

Oh yea, forgot to write the real good news in here. We found Ash-wife’s big medical problem after all these years. She has Reactive Hypoglycemia. Good this we went to Dr Peterson. That biatch is good – knows her shiat.

Our diet and food in the house is changing. Which is also a good thing.

Started going back to the gym. Ash-wife is already looking better with new diet and her ability to now exercise again. She looks a lot healthier – eyes and face don’t look sickly anymore. She feels better and better about herself. I can see it in her face that she is happy.

3/23/05

Spring is officially here, by date anyway, yet lots of snow and cold left. It’s strating to warm up above freezing during the days.

I need to start my seedlings. I will have a nice garden this year, weather willing.

I’m also ready for family outings, looking for morels, and just being in the woods in general.

I have a trap to find, tree stands to take down, and some blind furniture to get before the squirrels and chipmunks do.

4/16/05

I won the 2005 Newberry Elk’s Club Hold’em tourney. It was there inaugural tournament. Won a trophy and $360. I’m a bad-ass.

Pokery stuff.

TUES 8/9/05 THE DAY I FOUND OUT

I circled the date over and over in black ink.

Last page just has some snippets scrawled hastily in pencil. I remember this was a quick jotting of things that I wanted to discuss with my P-doc the next time I saw him.

My wife and people (workers) said that they have learned to see the signs and leave me alone.

Extreme mania: When she can’t get thru to me she will write me a letter. Only a few times in our marriage.

12 hr pill makes me cough.

Not Good on the Home-front

2007-04-11T19:16:00.000-07:00

I did the other Sup a favor and switched him a few hrs last night for today so he could go to his kid’s basketball game. So I got home at 5am when it was still dark outside. When I turned onto my street I noticed that her SUV wasn’t in the yard. The house was dark. I went in to my three dogs needing gratuitous rubbings. I started turning on lights as I surveyed the rooms. The toothbrushes were gone, some clothes, and my son’s TV and playstation. It seemed so desolate and lonely in the house with it still dark outside.

I hope I didn’t inexcusably fuck things up this time. She’s put up with my shit for 14 years, so hopefully she comes back once more and I can find an answer to my problem before I lose her. We have only spit up like 4 times in these 14 years and only for a few days at a time.

My fucking meds do regulate my moods the way they are supposed to. Fucking Seroquel and Limictal and Risperdal and still I’m an unresponsive ever-swinging moron. I am going to take Mom’s advice call my P-doc in the morning. Hopefully he gets back with me so I can set up an appointment with a therapist. Likely he will change my meds. I am so sick of tweaking meds. It is going to suck to get a therapist in Marquette because it’s a 2 hr drive and the winter trips are horrendous. But hey, I am definitely willing to do that for some change and hopefully serenity. I am doing this for my family’s sake foremost. They deserve to have a stable environment. They deserve the good, normal, loving dad. I think meds certainly help with my disorder to some extent. My wife would say that is definitely so. But truly I think this anger issue will not be quelled through medication. I don’t think my anxiety will be helped either without a therapeutic intervention. Also I think psychotherapy is needed for my reclusive-ness. If I don’t find the answer soon I will lose everything I hold dear. I must stanch the flow. The old adage is true: You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

My house seems huge. All I have are my animals, but that just isn’t the same. I’m sure she will drop the kids off tomorrow, so at least I will get to see them. I need to see them.

As much as I want her back I currently can’t guaranty her that I won’t blow-up again. I can promise to not hit her with anything ever again because I truly didn’t mean it this time. All I can promise her is that I am currently and will continue to seek help until I get the beast under control. She has to decide if she wants to be with me through this or if she wants to wait and see how I am after some therapy. I can’t lie to her, I have an illness and I will have outbursts and occasionally hit my extreme poles. It is inevitable; I am mentally ill. There is just no way around it. I am tainted and always will be. Yet hopefully I can subdue the beast enough to become tolerable for her and the kids. Mental abuse is still abuse. I know this. I will do better with therapy; I just know I will. I have to.

I hope she reads this, because I just can’t verbally put into words the way I truly feel. I hope she sees that I’m going to make an eternal effort to change. And if you are reading this… I love you… I miss you… I need you.

I Truly Sorry, But You Took It Out of Context

2007-04-11T16:16:00.000-07:00

Here are 2 excerpts from her post.

Before you read the following, please note that I am not actually complaining about blogging comments, except for the one that I mention in the post. The asshat derived comments I am referring to are NOT from blogland. These are asshats that I talk to every day in my non-virtual life. So, please don't read into this post, I am not at all upset with any of my regular readers (ashmc2, you can go ahead and assume I am not all that impressed with your comment though).

And at the risk of losing every single reader I have, I will say this one thing to preempt a particular comment. I am perfectly aware of the fact that people are well meaning when they make comments (specifically check out the one from ASHMC2) about the miscarriage. I am well aware of the fact that they were just trying to help. I am completely aware of the fact that they don't know what to say. I know all of this, really I do. And, guess what? That doesn't make me feel any better. One person who does get to "feel better" for having said something is the insensitive asshat who convinced themselves that their words of wisdom would wipe away the pain. Not to ruin SIL's mission of mercy or anything, but I am glad that someone is feeling better, even though it's definitely not me. Looks like she wins either way. Nice.

Here is her original post.

I am extremely sensitive to comments from people in my everyday, non-bloggie, life. Very sensitive. Here are a few excerpts of what has been said by well meaning people, and how I would like to respond is in italics.

· "It's just bad luck and you were the one in five in these odds for miscarriage. So if you have 5 pregnant women in the room, 1 of those women will miscarry and that was you." Really, Sherlock? Is that how odds work? If we have 5 people in a room, and I use everyone of them to beat you senseless, then what are the odds that I will kill you? Pretty high, I'd say.

· "It just wasn't meant to be." So the baby wasn't meant to be, but the miscarriage was? Nice. If it's not meant to be then maybe it shouldn't have started like it was.

· "Well at least you know that you can get pregnant." Unfortunately, it takes a bit more than that to get one of them take home babies though. So if that's all the optimism that you can muster, please don't bother even opening your mouth.

A nurse at the hospital after my D&C apparently thought that this comment would be helpful in some way, "I've had 5 miscarriages so far." Well, that's some happy news, please tell me more. If I get to number 5, then I will surely shoot myself in the head. That way I won't have anyway of saying the same thing to an unsuspecting, sad patient after her first D&C/miscarriage.

OK, so maybe I am a bit snarky right now. The thing is that I never say any of the stuff I am thinking when people make these comments. Instead, I just smile, thank them for their help, and even tell them they are so insightful. I am such a liar.

Here is my comment.

OK, as much as their comments hurt, they were trying to consul you in your time of need. Everyone isn’t smart enough to just shut up and let you greave on your own. You truly have the right to be cynical about it all, but remember no one actually meant to hurt you. They were trying to help in there own inept way.

I hope this isn’t insensitive – My wife and I went through more than our share of miscarriages, but in the end after all the tears and thoughts of why, two beautiful children proved to be strong enough to be here. So remember when things seem hopeless, there is still hope out there and you will find it and all these people here that love you will still be here to say congrats.

I am truly sorry for your loss.

My thoughts.

I don’t see where I’m an insensitive asshat who convinced themselves that their words of wisdom would wipe away the pain. Actually anyone that has ever commented on anyone’s blog could be accused of being an insensitive asshat who convinced themselves that their words of wisdom would wipe away the pain or what ever issue they are addressing. Right now no one can say the right thing. I wish I realized that before I hurt her. Maybe I’m un-insightful. In no way was I trying to hurt her in her time of need. I was trying to give her hope for the future. In absolutely no way was I trying to trivialize her unfortunate event or invalidate her grief. In no way was I trying to throw it in her face that I had kids in the end. I was trying to show her that it could happen for her. I was giving hope. I think that right now she is extremely grief stricken and irrational. She is emotionally spent. To hear of anything positive about the situation or anyone else’s experiences with M/C’s is to take away from her event in her eyes.

I felt the need to consul her and give her hope, because I remember just how deeply and traumatically it affected my wife. I might not have a woman’s perspective totally on M/C’s but my wife and I went through 9, count it, 9 M/C’s in 3 years. I lived with an angry, yet mostly extremely depressed wife. Most weren’t out of the 1st trimester, yet they hurt my wife deeply. One was a midterm loss and one was an ectopic pregnancy, which almost ruptured and possibly would have killed my wife. It put us in a seeming endless spiral of grief and depression. I kept telling her that maybe we should give some time, but she wanted a baby badly, even at the cost to her mentally, physically, and to her very psyche. She had to live in her bed trying not to M/C. I mean she literally lived in the bed. Finally at the end of all of our mental trauma 2 healthy children were born. Was it insensitive to tell her that we ended up having children after our own ordeal? Should I have just told her of our pain? I think not. Positive hope for the future is the key IMO. It is not her fault She is just currently an emotional wreck that wants to wallow in self-pity and wrongly blame herself and her body for the M/C. She isn’t shit. She was just one of us unfortunates that lost our child.

I want so desperately to tell her that I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I am not a bad person. I am a caring sympathetic person that truly wants to help others in need. I wanted to explain how much I feel for her personally right now, because I truly do know the grief she is enduring. But I didn’t think another comment was wise. I did tell her I was sorry and that I didn’t mean to hurt her. For me to try to explain any further would be selfish and merely trying to validate my first comment and my original intent. So I will keep reading her blog from the background and hopefully when she is again rational and stops the self-hate and is less hurt from her experience I can reenter her comment section. So here on my blog is where I will deliver my thoughts about what I actually meant. Hopefully once her grief has subsided to the point that she can be somewhat objective about the situation and peoples’ true intent, she can read this and forgive me. I do truly wish her the best and I’m extremely sorry that I hurt her when she needed help.

Thank You and How It Went This Morn

2007-04-10T18:40:00.000-07:00

First off I’d like to say that your comments since I’ve started my blog a month ago have been invaluable. I can’t express how you guys make me feel. I am finally able to relate, express, and tell about my personal thoughts, feelings, insecurities, and ineptitudes. To have comments for people somewhat like myself is helpful, inspiring, and much needed for a while now. I am happy that I relate, though once you know the real me, I will become the freak of freaks surely. No offense meant. I’m not looking for sympathy guys. I’m not suicidal and don’t need you guys to go out of your way to say nice things to me and tell me that I’m not fucked up. Just be brutally honest with me. I might hate you for it but it’s a chance I’m willing to take. Just joking. If I fuck-up it’s OK to call me an asshole; I’ll respect you for it. In this instance I was in the wrong and there is just no way around it. Although I would never physically harm my wife the handle did bounce up and hit her. If I wasn’t impulsively raging it wouldn’t have occurred. That is the point. That is my issue. It’s not the intent; it’s the result. Thanks for all the support, but feel free to slap me around when deemed necessary.

Well, it didn’t work out the way I was hoping this morning. I got home after my morning meeting at 7:30am. I walked in, the kids were doing their normal post-shower couch lounging while watching cartoons thing, and Ash-wife was cooking them breakfast. I talked to the kids and told them that I was really sorry for my despicable outburst the previous evening. I told them that I was having mental problems and that my emotions were out of whack. I told them that I was sorry for scaring them with my yelling. I told them that I was going to get help and that I was going to see my P-doc and get a T-doc. I told them that I loved them. Ash-wife went to the bathroom. I walked in and asked if I could talk to here. She asked me to please get away from her. I walked out dejected but knowing that she was deserving of her mood. I was the culprit here. She had the right to her space to figure out how she wants to resolve this. I decided to get on the computer and peruse blogs while playing 2 tables of poker all at the same time; multi-tasking at it’s finest. Fill the senses so I don’t have to deal with them; that’s my credo. Anyways, she takes the kids to school. My pills kick-in pretty good and I get groggy. I head to bed. I hear her come in and stay in the living room as I drift off to loneliness. I wake up at 3:30, just about the time she should be home with the kids. I get on the computer and resume my multi-tasking habit. I quickly realize that I am going to be home alone and likely she will likely stay at her parents’ until 7pm when I leave for work. I lose a few bucks playing poker and decide to take a bath and read my fantasy novel. I get out at 6 and get ready for work. I then get in through the passenger side of my car and head to Subway for something to take with me to work. I wonder how long this is going to last. I took a vacation next week; I don’t think I can handle it right now. Hopefully we make up before my appointment next week, my P-doc wanted her account of who or what she lives with. That will be nice to sit and endure.

Later, dejected, lonely, Ash out.

Sleep: You Fickle Bitch

2007-04-10T17:26:00.000-07:00

I am starting to have trouble sleeping again. For the last month or so I’ve been waking up every hour or so. Often I can go back to sleep. But when I do I’m still plagued with plenty more awakenings.

When I first got diagnosed I was having horrible sleeping issues. I couldn’t go to sleep. My mind would spin. I would relive every interaction that I had had and analyze every minute detail. I would run scenarios over and over, especially if it was a dramatic, or perceived dramatic event. I would plot and plan how I would interact with people the next day. With all this shit going on I could go a week with very little sleep. Oh how tired I’d be, yet my mind just wouldn’t stop. At my worst I was averaging 4 hours of sleep a day for maybe 2 weeks straight.

Then came the seroquel. I would take 75mg and soon after I would sleep all night. I’ve been doing that for a good year. Although, I do feel that I’ve lost a lot of insight from the loss of nightly intellectual churning, I was still happy to have that off switch. If I was stressed about something and I felt that I needed to analyze deeply, I would just not take my dose. If I didn’t take my pills I would find it near impossible to sleep.

Well lately it’s not the falling asleep that has changed; it’s the staying asleep part that is killing me. We have recently upped my dosage to 200mg to 300mg a day due to my mood instability. I truly don’t know if the sleep pattern correlates with the change in dosage. I think this issue has been creeping up and lately has gotten to the point that it has become very noticeable. How can I not sleep with that much dope in me.

Another thing that corresponds the awakenings is nightmares. I don’t know if it really has to do with it or not. I am embarrassed to even mention it, but hey it’s my fucking blog. But I have been getting these horrible dreams with a shadow person in them. Like a spectral, insubstantial yet tangible, ethereal, opaque, ring wrath with hood and the works. I know this sounds stupid, but as manly as I try to portray myself, these dreams cause me anxiety. It is always real world images of my room. He come in and slowly walks around my bed, getting ever closer. Often he touches me or holds me down so I can’t breathe. It’s weird, I know I’m dreaming but I can’t wake up. I feel paralyzed as I try mentally to move, overcome and combat his crushing weight, shake my wife for help, or try to ask for help. I go into panic mode, trying to awake. It just seems that I can only stare as he comes for me. I usually wake up at some point once the fear culminates to the point of breaking. Here are the strongest and most prominent ones lately. He came in and leaned over me and kissed me forcing my mouth open and began to pump his essence into my mouth through a sort of proboscis. I awoke before his essence could perform its intended purpose. In the other one he grabbed my feet and began to drag me off the bed and out the dog door, my struggling reaching no avail. It wasn’t my physical body, but a fully formed shadow of myself - my soul possibly, yet totally my very living quintessence. I knew if he got me passed that door there was no coming back. I woke up just as my arms’ strength gave way and the last of myself was consumed through the orifice. Not only is the dream filled with overpowering dread, there is always a feeling of pure evil in my room as I awake. Often I roll over, reposition myself, and try to think of something different to try to not go right back into the same dream when I fall back asleep. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes I can’t get back to sleep due to strong feelings of dread. I wouldn’t even mention it, but for the fact that it has escalated in frequency. I have had these dreams occasionally as far back as I can remember. Occasionally being the optimum word here. Try waking up to that shit 1 to 5 times a night where you aren’t even safe in your sleep. It gets real old quickly. No wonder they call them night terrors. I have to deal with the demons inside me daily while roaming this earth; it doesn’t seem fair to have to battle them nightly as well.

I Need Help

2007-04-09T17:43:00.000-07:00

I really need treatment before I lose everything I have. 2 days after returning from my trip and I already spazz-out angrily and scare my family. I really feel like having a breakdown right now. Nothing seems to be going right. Something is amiss. Something is wrong.

Everything was going fine. My son had his birthday party today over at his grandparents house while I slept for work. They came home and brought me some McDonald’s. I ate and got up. Everything was fine. I hung out in the living room with everyone while I got ready for work. Everything was good. I was happy. I had to leave so I gave everyone a hug and a kiss and walked out the door.

There was a snowdrift by the driver door so I went to the passenger door. It wouldn’t open. It looked like it was unlocked to me. I jerked on it a few times. Nothing. I walk around to the driver door through the snow. I try the door and it wouldn’t budge. I start jerking on it, half thinking that it was frozen shut and half thinking that it was locked. The door handle broke off in my hand. BOOM, I went nuts inside.

Instantly I remember seeing my set of keys on the hook inside the door. I walk inside with the handle in the air for effect, all wild-eyed, and scream who the fuck locked my door. My wife said that she did and that there had been some suspicious kids hanging around while I was gone. She told me to just take her car. I screamed and threw the handle on the ground and commenced to have a temper tantrum like a little kid. I kicked the door and started shaking the coat rack. When I looked back around my wife had her pant leg up and was rubbing her chin. So obviously my handle bounced off the floor and struck her leg. I said sorry and that I didn’t mean for it to hit her. She didn’t look up and said nothing. The kids were crouched up on the back of the couch with fear and terror in their eyes. Seeing how this all had played out sent me into a defeated rage. I screamed that I couldn’t have shit and started rampaging again. I kicked the door again. I shook the coat rack on the wall trying to rip it off because I couldn’t find he keys there. Then I lumbered across the room and pounded my fists on the table as I screamed where the fuck are the keys. She found them and handed them to me. I them ran across the room and kicked the screen glass door, hoping to break it, as I stormed out of the house. I got in my car shaking with tears in my eyes.

I called home twice when I go to work. I needed to apologize. I don’t know how much longer I will have a family. I don’t deserve a family. I just terrorized my family. Just think how they saw it. Dad walks out to go to work with a smile on. 2 minutes later he busts the door open and rampages the room as he screams and throws shit. I am truly shit. If I don’t get help quick I will lose my family. And then I don’t know what I will do.

It is hard. I love my family so much that I want to be with them. The problem is that I love them so much that I should make them leave me. I am too selfish to do that. My P-doc appointment is in a week. I will then get a T-doc. Hopefully we can all work together to quell the beast in me. I will try to call again. I hope they are home when I get there. How many times can you apologize before apologies don’t hold any meaning any longer and become merely words? I need this to all stop. I need to treat my family right or make them go. I need them to be home in the morning.

Long Post: Trip Report

2007-04-09T02:20:00.000-07:00

I passed my test. I was so stressed out until I passed. Total undue pressure. Just to think that I now have to go through this shit every 6 months. I was the first one of our group to pass. We had 10 tries over 2 days to pass. I failed my first test by one reading. That truly sucked. You could have up to a 15% deviation on any reading and pass, although on average you couldn’t be off more than 7.5% for the 50 reading. I had one reading that I missed by 20% and that was all she wrote. Damn was it cold. We were in a suburb of Minneapolis and St Paul. At the DOT center. We were outside at 8:30 am to start the test. It was +2 degrees with wind chill added in. Probably 15 degrees actual. I didn’t really pack for that kind of weather. I layered up with a hoody taking most of the brunt. Let me just say, holy shit was it cold. My hands were frozen. You should have seen all the people fidgeting around trying to stay warm – it looked like a torret’s/ADHD convention. Test 2 I failed 2 readings. There were 25 readings with white smoke and then 25 readings with black. 2nd test I made it all the way to to number 43 with good results and then bang 2 in a row off by 20%. Failure. It was lunch time. We all were pretty worked up about the tests. We were all analyzing how everything played-out and measuring ourselves against how each other performed. I actually was having anxiety attacks during each test and as they were calling out the right answers. Not strong ones but strong enough. Test 3 didn’t seem any different than the first 2. They started reading out the results. I made it through the white with only one out by 15%. I about shit when he called the number. I thought at first I was out. I was actually slightly hyperventilating during the calling of the right answers. My ears were on fire and I was flush and shaking. I hate feeling like that. I got down to the last few and knew I had passed the 20% rule. I had to go sit down and tally up my score and found that I was less than 5% ave. and had passed. The other guys were already back to the vehicles to warm up. I handed in my test and they told me that they would get back with me soon. I don’t smoke, but I asked for a cig and smoked it. I really must stop this. I just started lately smoking a little when I drink. I did have 3 Bud Lights at lunch so I guess you could chalk that one up to drinking. They have been tasting good, plus giving me that initial buzz, and then the relaxing feeling. I used to smoke 3 packs a day. My wife and I both quit 8 year’s ago and just recently I’ve been doing that BS drinking/smoking excuse. I will stop right now. This is how stressed I was. I couldn’t relax until they called out my name and said I passed; I was afraid my math was off somehow. It felt like a giant weight was lifted from my shoulders. Ain’t that sad that I allowed myself to get that worked up. I then went back to the Hotel and waited for the others to come back. Schmuckal passed on the 4th try. We had to stay an extra day because the other 2 didn’t pass until the next day on the 7th test. I’m telling you that it was a very subjective test with very little science to it. I never realized how many shades of gray there were.

Boy I’m glad to be back. It really sucked on some levels and in some ways it was nice. It was cool to do something different for a change. The ride sucked; 10 hr drive, with around 6 hrs through Wisconsin. Damn… nothing but barns and silos and fields. God bless radio. OK, time for another positive. Hanging out with the other Sups was nice. It’s odd, although we compete, we don’t hold much animosity towards each other. That is good. I’ve known all 3 from before we moved up the internal ladder. I could go back and forth for a while longer with the +/-, but I’ll just hit those others up more thoroughly.

I had a tough time sleeping. This is actually an ongoing issue that I need some resolution to at some point very soon. I think my biggest problem was that my bed seemed large without my wife taking all the room. It was a king size bed so it was large. Empty was the problem. I never went to bed before midnight all week and I was usually pretty well intoxicated. I then would take 300 mg seroquel and go to sleep. I had no problem going to sleep; it was staying asleep that was the problem. I would wakeup at least once an hr. Often I would wake up to terrible dreams. I would fall right back to sleep. 2 nights I turned on the TV very low to try to combat the evil feelings permeating my room. I still awoke hourly. I felt like a wimp, but hey, at least I could go back to sleep.

Went to Mall of America. Man was it big. It was 4 floors high with a plethora of shops and myriad of restaurants. And in the middle of it all was an amusement park. We spent like 3 hrs there looking for Schmuckal a pr of shoes. Every time his picky ass found a pr that he liked they didn’t have his size. Mall of A-fuckin’-merica and noboby carries 11 ½’s. We said the hell with it and went to Hooter’s. I had never been there. They are supposed to have the best wings around. That’s why I went anyways. LOL. As we were leaving we found a place called Underwater Adventures. We paid the $17 to get in and it was worth it. It was an aquarium that had a glass tunnel throughout. You could either walk or ride the conveyor belt and look all around yourself at the fish. They had fresh and saltwater fish. Bass to Sharks. They also had a touch pool where you could handle the stingrays and the like. I put the Crock Hunter out of my mind and played with them. No really, it was a good time.

I definitely gained a little weight. We ate well all week - three meals a day. A lot more than I usually eat, but the company with fitting the bill, so I indulged myself. Not a good excuse, but I did. I also drank all week. I don’t drink too often, so I really hammed it up while there. I’m sure that wasn’t too good on the waistline. It’s time for a diet I think.

When we spent time alone during the day I would just turn down the TV and go to sleep. I woke up every hr during these naps also.

Schmuckal and I went to the bar one night downtown Minneapolis. The other 2 didn’t feel like going. I almost got in a fight. I don’t think this was due to my mood disorder or any swings or cycles. This guy was just a dick. I’m not the fighting, tough-guy, macho type. I actually feel that you should be able to use your intellect for the most part. Usually it’s when you outsmart someone that they want to fight, because they mentally can’t battle you. But you came only push me so far. Not to say that I don’t lose it quick sometimes. My wife doesn’t call me trigger for nothing. Anyways, I don’t start fights; let’s just put it that way. This dude was kinda hanging around our table. He came up to me and says that he’s not trying to offend me, but that we look like small town guys. I said that he guessed it right. Ain’t it weird how when people say “I don’t mean to…” that is exactly what they mean. The cabbie pulled the same crap the night before when he commented that he didn't want us to thhink that he was robbing us by taking a different route which conveniently costed us $10 more than the trip home with another driver. LOL. The comment bothered me a little but I was rather congenial about it and told him that it didn’t offend me, although by the way he said it, it was obvious that he though himself my better. I was raised in all over Wake County NC so I’m really small town per se. But I think he thought that because we were laid back in our attire. I had on a Led Zeppelin hoody and a Tarheels cap and Schmuckal had on a Polaris jacket and a Detroit Lions hat, so it didn’t take a rocket scientist to analyze the evidence. A far cry from the Metrosexual guys with their greased back hair and their preppie clothes. A little later we were standing next to each other watching the band, when he reaches over with the back of his hand and pats my stomach and says’ “A little fat there aren’t ya?” I once again gave the guy the benefit-of-the-doubt here and remained calm. I jokingly held up my beer and said that they don’t come cheap and they come at a price as I patted my belly. I could tell that he meant it in a derogatory manner. Shit, how else can it be meant? But I decided not to let it ruin my good mood and let it slide. A little later I go outside to have a smoke. There I go again with the smoking. There is no smoking in Minneapolis, so this place had a canopied pavilion out back. He then comes out and starts smoking a cigarette. About halfway through the smoke he says hey, do you want to wrestle. At this point I get pissed and I’m feeling belittled by this jackass. I should have told him to go over wrestle with Schmuckal. He was the North American Muay Thai Light Heavy Weight Champion. That’s what I should have done. But no I blow up and tell the guy that my small town ass would knock him the fuck out. He then tries to give it another ego-driven effort and give me the stare-down. I told him that I wasn’t playing and that I was going to knock his ass out. He then starts stammering and stuttering and apologizes over and over. Schmuckal comes over and tells me to calm down and we go inside. I kinda ruined the rest of the night for Schmuckal because he stopped drinking after that because the guy had 2 friends with him. The guy keep coming up to me and apologizing over and over and buying me drinks. I really don’t know if I over-reacted or not. It just hit me wrong I guess.

So I guess as far as my BPD goes, I had only a few issues this week while gone. And maybe I’m just blaming BPD for a few problems. If I was alone in my room I was sleeping. No TV, no movies, just trying to sleep. Even if we were all going to meet up in 2 hrs or so, I would still lay on the bed and go to sleep. I was actually ashamed of myself for this defeatist BS. Another issue was, once, I woke up and was getting dressed when Schmuckal knocked on my door. Being by myself I didn’t realize that I was irritable. I snatched open the door and half-yelled, what the fuck are you knocking so loud for. He walked in without saying anything. I apologized and he said not to worry about it and that he was used to me getting that way. I hate how people have to put up with my shit. He has been a close friend since we were teens and he knows about me being bipolar. The anxiety attacks while training were another sign. I’m really starting to hate these. I don’t know if these are part of my disorder or come from something else. I had bad anxiety issues the night before the trip. A guy from work called and said that some guys in town were having a poker tourney. Of course I was inconsiderate and could say no, the night before my trip, where I would leave my family for a week. During the game I had a few times were my heart was banging in my chest, my eyes were blazing, my hands were shacking so bad that I couldn’t barely handle the chips, and I was worried about how everyone was see me. Hopefully this is something that I can work on with a therapist when I get one. This is one of my major issues. I am very impulsive when I get this way. This is were I get myself into trouble. Oh yea, I came in 2nd in the tourney BTW.

The trip ended on a big Negative, when we got back to Michigan, there had been a spring snowstorm and there was well over a foot of snow in my yard. It had just finally all melted last week and now it is back. Hopefully in the next couple of weeks it will be gone again. So overall no a bad trip, yet I would rather have stayed home and slept in my own bed, and of course no freakin’ tests.

My Personal Bipolar Journey

Support New BP Blog

Live webcams of Smasher

Atom Smasher

KISMET

Hi All

Biomancer - excerpt

Bye

My Tree of Woe

MAXIM

Good News

Quick Update

Not So Good News

...And Kids That Was The First Time I @#*%ed $*%# For Crack

I'm Feeling Pretty Good Right Now and Other Ramblings

I'm Feeling much better now

I'm Out Of It

Procrastinator’s Post

Hey All

YO, YO, YO

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 11

I GOT PISSED

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 10

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 9

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 8

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 7

Weight Update

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 6

My Current 2 Favorite Songs

Current Mood Music - Tired Twisted Gray-Matter

Afraid and Alone

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 5

What am I?

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 4

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 3

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 2

How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part One

Prelude to My Life

Tid Bits

Update and a Dark Secret: Oooh Now That's a Title

BRB

Mini-post

Weight Update

POKER

Belated Comments

Hidden Posts

What a Bad Boy I Have Been

Personal and Medical Updates

More Crack For Ash

GOSH

A Little Prick

A Quickie

Here's a Few More

BANDIT

I Haven't Had Much Sleep the Last Two Nights Because a Raccoon Keeps Jumping on My Head

Kids Get Your Asses To Bed

Sup

YO YO YO

Weight and an Update

Cool Story

A Week's Worth of This and That

MEDITATION

Unbridled

Week 3

T-doc Visit: I'm Broken

Quick Weight Update

Just When I Thought I Was Out... They Pull Me Back In

The Bad Dream

Still Angry at Times

Snippets

It’s All Pseudo-science and Psychobabble

The Waders Confrontation

Colorgenics What BS… AKA… You 2 Have Wasted 5 Min of My Life… AKA… You Know Who You Are - LOL.

Weight Management

Prelude to a Post 2

ASSHOLES

Prelude to a Post

I PASSED

T-Doc and Homework

Lately I've Been on the Up's

...And Kids That Was The First Time I @#%ed $%# For Crack