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..realized I started this "blog" when I became unable to work. I have no idea why? To fill my vacant time with any activity? I remember thinking no one knows who I am. Even me! That's for another time.
It has been over two years since all this started, my physical health problems gaining ground from chronic to acute and this weblog. In that time I have shed little in the way of enlightening, unless you consider the ramblings of an old man enlightening. I am not an unhappy person, nor sad. Just here I guess, wondering why like everyone else. It must be grand to know who you are and what you want. I have little in the way of any self knowledge. I am emotional, overly sensitive. My feelings get hurt so easily and I hide behind this transparent bravado.
What do you hide behind?
...totally out of sync with who I thought I was. I joined classmates.com why? I cannot understand why I did this. I was tortured in high school, so badly I was forced to quit in the summer of my junior year. Thugs and bullies spared me no mercy and that was just the faculty.
I have horror stories and what kid didn't. We were all or most of us were teased about something by someone for no other reasons then that they could, we allowed it, or no one else tried to stop it.
It didn't matter anything different was a target and it was always a relief when there was a bigger target then you, you could breathe without fear, yet you felt guilty that someone else was being teased by the homeroom show off slash bully. You never looked up when you were not the target and you never looked up when you were and that dear ones sums up my two high school years. What does it sum up for you? Bully or target?
...talk to but you and I do not even know who you are! Probably better that way, you may have a tendency to judge if you knew me. Judge away...
I come from a small minded town in the upper penisula of Michigan. I was out of school when Nixon "resigned". Forced to keep anything true about me deep down inside I learned the fine art of storytelling. You see when you are forced to protect your essence you cannot imagine the things you have to do. The fear it produced is incomprehensible and the memories it left are ever present.
After leaving school it was easier, in the short run, after leaving town I slowly allowed myself to discover all that I had innately buried. This is still happening; a process that does not have any ending because it is always beginning, do you get that? It just never ends or is always beginning, I am never sure.
...like I am going around the friggin' bend. Loop de loop. I am losing what brain matter I have left. I sit all day. I get my "chores" done, like last night's dinner dishes, as early as 6 am. I awake my partner, who is responsible for us both, with a cold glass of grapefruit juice. While he sips and slowly wakes up, I start the task of dish washing. As I finish he brings that final dirty juice glass, smiles and places it the sink only to start the process all over.
I await his morning ritual watching the morning news, mostly for the weather, anything above 65 degress and he finds it "burning up"; we live in San Francisco, it is never burning up, even when it is hot.
His days are long, often surpassing twelve or more hours. He loves his job and that is a saving grace for he has taken on the responsiblity of me. Me who cannot work because of a childhood injury that has caught up with me sooner then expected, yet surprised by it's ability to stop me painfully in my tracks
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...know what's going on? I seem not to. It has been over five months since I felt the need to peck out thoughts. And I can't think of anything, can you?
Do you ever get scared? I do and always over seemingly little things. Like life and all this work; not the forty hour a week kind, the day to dayness of living. It gets harder as you grow older. As anyone who is aware of passing time understands.
I have to apply for disability and of course they all have advice but all agree hire legal help, how can you hire anything, doesn't that take funds? I don't know it is all so confusing to me. Most days I sit in this ignorant fog looking for bliss.
...on and still trying to make sense of it all. People have been leaving my life in one form or another. Reconnecting with family members that have something in common, it makes it easier to communicate and to feel that familial connection once more.
Like I said, I am still trying to get a clearer insight to the workings behind the workings so to speak, the reasons why, no matter how simple they may be. Just working on understanding the mechanics. Is that removing myself?
September 19th 2008 10:53
...morning. After 3 am, can't sleep, nothing going on, just a long nap yesterday late afternoon. I like this time, feel like the only person awake in San Francisco, which of course is far from the truth.
I have lost, no regained ground after battling my relatives and close friends, I am still in shock over what has transpired since mid August, but has time wanes so does my anxiety. I have lost what I thought to be people I could trust, count on. People I loved and thought loved me in return. I still love them, but knowing full well to be around them would be harmful to my emotional health. Best to let go, but of course, you ask them politely not to contact you, some not so politely as pointedly, yet they still contact you via phone, emails, snail mail even using website venues to contact you directly for them, crazy.
Now, I don't know about you but, would you want to continue on with someone that ask you not? I wouldn't, yet I continue erasing unlistened to phone messages and writing return to sender on cards. My gramma used to say too little too late. She is right
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September 12th 2008 17:53
...the house of friendship has become strangled with cobwebs and the stench of self centeredness, malefic agendas hidden behind closed locked doors. How can you know someone or think you know someone and be so totally wrong? As you may have speculated I am still somewhat blindsided about the eye opening events of the last month. There are some aspects that I will attempt to explain that happened to me, that I will never, ever be able to wrap my head around let alone my cerebration. I have known some of the friends for over a generation, there are some that, who related, held me in, what I thought to be safe and loving arms.
It all started when my domestic partner of thirteen years, Paul , I have mentioned his name now and then, and I were allowed by the courts of California, not its' people, to be married.
No, kidding. My Aunt the Sunday before our ceremony called and tried her best to upset what should be a happy time, followed by friend of years calling me stupid and of "unimportance". And in between this all happening, my first cousin on my fathers side who has been dead since1965, my father, not my cousin, tells me my father denied me; she is the lie life giving person and the relative's whose arms I felt loved and safe in even though only four years seperate us. That one, stung the most and I am still in shock as I write this. Can you suffer PTSD from someones inability to feel any joy unless directly their own joy? I am so puzzled, baffled, stymied, frightened as to what could possibly be the motive, their reasining for this horrible scheming useless diatribe. What will these individuals gain from their behavior? I don't get it. It just seems mean and unwarranted
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...scared. And I do not know what it is that frightens me like a startled child abruptly awakened by some horrible nightmare. I feel all the blood drain from my body when that jagged fear tears through me. Why can't I find my way out of this nightmare, why can't I wake up?
I am already awake, the nightmare and all is happening in real time. Where am I? Why have I disappeared?
...like a twig I did, the result of two months of anxiety over a unclear and seemingly clandestine program that I felt forced to participate in against my expressed wishes for more information which was evaded at every question.
A program that is geared to help the patient with his chronic pain and manage that pain with alternatives and why do we need the alternatives and to what you may question, the alternative to what? The alternative to the opiates that doctors too readily dispense and who suffers for these acts of reckless prescription writting, the patient.
They prescribe you drugs, morphine, or any class of opiates that work by blocking the receptors to pain, and when you are in pain, you do not get high, you get pain relief, you are able to take a breath without that jagged pain searing its way through your body. You are able to function and by that I mean getting out of your bed without the fear of that red hot pain coming back
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