It is better to be an outcast, a stranger in one’s own country, than an outcast from one’s self. It is better to see what is about to befall us and to resist than to retreat into the fantasies embraced by a nation of the blind.
Chris Hedges
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The Best
One can only count on the people that hang in there. If you have - one hang on to it. They be mates or not. Life is good, but only with people that make your life better not worse. But there are devils and angels everywhere. The trick is discerning them.
A Day off Work
One day before my AA meeting and I am getting as pissed as a billy goat. Walked into work and announced I was going home. Stopped off at the beer store for a box and came home. Frankly work has dissapointed me and I could care less about it. Tomorrow I am going to AA and I do it frankly. Booze has always been a get-a-way from life and it's time I faced the music. I am going to court and pleading guilty. It has to end and if it means time in the clink well I take full responsibility. Odd being a different person in a different land, they could take y0o as some carpetbagger or a human being. Time will tell. I will post the results of my case. I expect the worst.
Luck
As luck would have it I married a beauty. Full of forgiveness and love. Last week I got caught for drinking and driving. In fact I almost ran over the bastard who caught me. If I had been going fast enough I probably would have gotten away with it. Just a smudge of green paint on some poor bastard. Well I'm guilty.
I recognise that booze WAS a coping mechanism. I'm going to kick the bastard for good. I wan't to be dry for my grandson. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Even though it doesn't seem so. Be pacient. Hang in there.
I recognise that booze WAS a coping mechanism. I'm going to kick the bastard for good. I wan't to be dry for my grandson. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Even though it doesn't seem so. Be pacient. Hang in there.
Monday, February 19, 2007
still crazy after all these years
There is nothing good about depression. It's like stepping barefoot into dogshit and hopping to the toilet to scrub between your toes with a toilet brush. The truth is, once the black dog is upon you and one or two triggers are pulled it makes you think about finding a double-barreled shotgun and blowing the back of your head off. People do not handle the insane very well. Support workers in doctor's offices don't look you in the eye when they talk to you. Pharmacy staff lecture you publicly about taking the cocktail of medications that keep you going. Family members resent the constant attention you require and begin to compete for attention with their own drama. Work associates avoid you, or bother you with questions like, "how are you today?" Of course you lie and say, "Capital. Any better and I couldn't stand it!"
In fact people begin to bother you. I recently hung a sign that read 'No Entry' on my gate in bold red letters but this just seems to encourage them to test it to see if it means them. There is very little to look forward to. Nothing is good. Life itself is exhausting.
Those who have been there know what it is like; the way ex smokers understand how hard it is to quit. The insane have become the pariah's of our culture. We have closed down mental institutions to save money, medicate the shit out of nuts and hope for the best. But for the truly suffering, hope is the one thing they need to be scripted for.
In fact people begin to bother you. I recently hung a sign that read 'No Entry' on my gate in bold red letters but this just seems to encourage them to test it to see if it means them. There is very little to look forward to. Nothing is good. Life itself is exhausting.
Those who have been there know what it is like; the way ex smokers understand how hard it is to quit. The insane have become the pariah's of our culture. We have closed down mental institutions to save money, medicate the shit out of nuts and hope for the best. But for the truly suffering, hope is the one thing they need to be scripted for.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Idiggraves
It Started as a work thingy
As pressures mounted and deadlines accumulated I found myself staring at a blank computer screen unable to even complete a game of spider solitaire. My hands shook and I realized the fraud was over. I saw a doctor who presecribed Prozac, then Resperdal, then Clonazapam and somehow these concoctions allowed me to live. My workmates were divided between those who thought I was a malingerer and those who cared. My family much the same. My wife thank god chose to accept the breakdown. I saw a clinical psychologist who assessed me as being on the short end and suffering from Post Traumatic Syndrome and work related stress. It all came to a close for me. Work people forced me back but not before making an effort to end my employment with them. Fortunately, I had my wife and I'm no dummy. Together we cobbled a deal that sees me working half time and taking a course or two. My therapist chose the month of January to take a long break and the days have been staggered between ultimate bad and some good. But always I wake up with a vomit and shaking hands. Somehow it is holding together.
As pressures mounted and deadlines accumulated I found myself staring at a blank computer screen unable to even complete a game of spider solitaire. My hands shook and I realized the fraud was over. I saw a doctor who presecribed Prozac, then Resperdal, then Clonazapam and somehow these concoctions allowed me to live. My workmates were divided between those who thought I was a malingerer and those who cared. My family much the same. My wife thank god chose to accept the breakdown. I saw a clinical psychologist who assessed me as being on the short end and suffering from Post Traumatic Syndrome and work related stress. It all came to a close for me. Work people forced me back but not before making an effort to end my employment with them. Fortunately, I had my wife and I'm no dummy. Together we cobbled a deal that sees me working half time and taking a course or two. My therapist chose the month of January to take a long break and the days have been staggered between ultimate bad and some good. But always I wake up with a vomit and shaking hands. Somehow it is holding together.
Insane in the Membrane
Sorry I haven't written lately but I recently suffered a mental breakdown of life shattering proportions. I expect this happens to everyone eventually... the accumulation of life's baggage. But it's not pretty and can either lead to rehabilitation or death. I am choosing the opportunity to reinvent myself to be the person I should have been instead of living the bullshit existence I have pretended to.
Idiggraves
Idiggraves
Recently I went insane. A full-blown nervous breakdown that shook me to the core of my ankles. The next few posts will deal with the stigma of going through this with full details.
Recently I went insane. A full-blown nervous breakdown that shook me to the core of my ankles. The next few posts will deal with the stigma of going through this with full details.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)