Short Update

A short update is all I have time for. I am writing incessantly and I am reviewing constantly for Divertir publishing and then there is the writing group that I started that I am back working for that is taking all my time. Between all of that and cleaning the house and occasionally taking care of the toddler and spending what little time I have left over with the wife I don’t know how to breathe anymore.

I love it all though. If I could find a job I would love it even more. Would not cut anything out, I would just rearrange stuff to give me time to work. Give me a job universe and I will give you my all.

As far as a job goes I need a desk job so I can sit due to my arthritis and degenerative disc thingy, not to mention the nerve disorder. I also need something relatively low stress because of the schizophrenia and the anxiety attacks.

There’s my update. Ask me questions, really, and I will answer them. Please ask me questions.

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Another Birthday Gone

September 6th was my birthday. It was a day that I would have rather slept through. A total of 8 people wished me happy birthday and one of them was not my son. I had to take the dog we just adopted to a rescue because my chiwawa mix (Beverly) was vomiting on herself, peeing on the floor, refusing to move, shaking and had been tossed around a bit by the dog who was an English Mastiff. A big dog was not a bad idea, a HUGE dog was a horrible idea. My wife and mother-in-law hate me, if only temporarily, for getting rid of the dog, but I really had no choice as I could not put my Beverly in any more danger. I cleaned the couch to get rid of the big dog’s smell and I made dinner. I took care of my daughter so my wife could work and I got no time to myself. My wife did not even wish me a happy birthday until after 5pm. She did say that we could observe my birthday some other day, but it was my birthday and it seemed like everyone just forgot and didn’t care which makes me think they didn’t care about me. I don’t want a party I just want a little “happy birthday” form those that are supposed to love me and be my friends. My family even fell short, but I stopped counting on them years ago.

Another day, another year, another disappointment.

The Introduction Of The New Me

Over the last seven years my life has changed dramatically. I got married to the love of my life and life itself seemed wonderful. We had a blissful honeymoon and I thought that was how the entirety of my life would go (I believe she did as well). We were both disappointed.

My mental illnesses got worse and worse. I became more and more susceptible to the stress around me. Jobs started lasting less and less time (I had never lasted long at a job because I got bored or my anger got the best of me, or I had the rare anxiety attack and I never went back because I was embarrassed). I spent quite a bit of time in and out of the hospital because of the anxiety attacks that were coming on weekly or sometimes even more frequently than that.

I lost my last job because I had too much time away due to the inability to handle stress and determined that school was my best bet. I would change majors from Culinary Arts to something less stressful. Instead, while living with my in-laws I had my breakdown.

Over the next two months I degraded so fast that neither my wife nor I knew what was going on. She became cold and I became distant. Everyone was out to get me and I could not leave my desk chair other than to go outside to the comfort of my secluded balcony to smoke. It was obvious that I needed help so, with my wife’s help, I got it.

To make a long story short as I have gone over most of this before, I eventually found the psychiatrist I am with now. I eventually found the right mix of medications and I eventually started to feel normal.

I wanted out of the house. I want out of my desk chair. I started to do more around the house. I started spending time with my daughter. I started being a somewhat normal human being.

Last week I decided that it was time for me to go back to work. Due to child support from my first marriage, I need to make a certain amount just to bring in what I am bringing in now with my disability and the jobs that disability will find for you are a joke.

So I am job hunting. I haven’t worked since 2007. I am a published writer so I use that as my work experience for the last several years, but a lot of employers don’t look kindly on that. I will find a job. I will contribute to my household. I will be a active member of society. I will introduce the world to the new me.

Hard At Work

I started working on my almost fictional memoir/biography quite some time ago. It has gone through many titles and I recently gave it a new one: Ramblings of an Uncut Mind. I chose it because my poetry collection is titled Poetic Visions of an Uncut Mind and when doing nonfiction (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) I am trying for stability that way if the book gets picked up then perhaps they will pick up the collection for republication. I have big hopes and dreams, but if you can’t dream big then why hope to dream at all?

I say the piece is “almost fictional” because I am not sure what is real and what is not. What is fact to me, may be a lie to someone else. My therapist told me I should leave it alone (trying to figure out what is real or imagined) and just live my life, but that is hard when you are a writer, especially if you are writing a memoir. So I have taken what I think I know and written it down and if something contradicts that in my mind then I write that as well, explaining that I have two or more memories of the same event or time period.

So most of my time has been spent working on that. The rest is spent writing poetry, cleaning the apartment, trying to buy a house, taking care of my daughter and finding time to show my wife some love. As I write this I have to say I feel sorry for her because as much of a bitch that she can be, she still has to deal with a (medicated)schizophrenic, former drug addict, smoker, pathological liar who happens to be an aspiring author. That is not to say that I don’t feel that she still treats me unfair at times, it is just to say that she has it just as rough, if not more, as I do dealing with her unmedicated ass who is sick constantly and whines when she is not bitching, screaming, or not listening to a word I say, not to mention never taking my feelings, thoughts, or sicknesses in mind.

So if you are wondering why I haven’t been posting so much, now you know.

A quick update:

  • The 2 year old is sleeping through the night in her own bed, but never past 6:30 am.
  • The wife is looking for a better job that won’t treat her like a door mat.
  • We have found a house, pending inspection (Monday), that we should be in by mid-August.
  • I think my best friend is trying to get in my wife’s pants as his wife’s pants are currently in the possession of another of our friends (complicated). I may write about this when I have time.
  • My medication is working splendidly. Anxiety is at a 25% level and paranoia is at a 35% level, but the hallucinations are at a 5% level and the emotional response is up 300%. Moods are stable for the most part and I am seeing signs of real happiness.

Would love to hear from any of you readers that would like to say something.

Writing Is My Mistress

I recently have posted a few pieces of poetry because it and the novel I am working on have consumed a lot of my life.

We are still looking for a house and getting very impatient. We have to have an accepted contract by the end of this month at the latest. Tomorrow I am supposed to go look some more and hopefully I will find “the one”.

My psych increased my main anti-psychotic med and it will take a week or two to find out if it makes me “normal” as that is the ultimate goal, that and being able to take care of my daughter. If it helps even a little bit my wife and I will be trying to have another baby.

So all of that and keeping the house (cleaning and cooking) should leave me with no time, but I steal away and find time to write. Sometimes I don’t sleep and sometimes I skip cleaning and cooking. I try my hardest, but sometime I even neglect my family to write.

I have gotten more than several rejection letters over the last month (10) and I am trying to not let that put me down. I am still waiting on five others, but I don’t have high expectations. I decided to send out 15 submissions at a time and wait. The next round is coming and I don’t have enough to send out. I need 3-5 pieces for each submission unless the journals/magazines take simultaneous submissions.

So expect to see pieces of poetry more often as I will be posting my scraps here to keep a record of them. If you have a comment that could help me improve please speak your mind. If you think I should give up entirely I am not sure I want to hear that.

Here is another piece to read:

Cold But Not Alone

Belched beer,
regurgitated booze
all reminds me
of home,
of him.

Warmth at
my hairline,
a caress
of my ass –
sliding around
to the front
as I slip
from his
grip
only to fall
over his legs
wrapped
around me.

A boy can only take so much.

Bricks burn
when hot enough
and screams
get so high-pitched
you can’t
even hear them
anymore.

They both deserved to die;

him
for being him
and her
for not being
who she
should have been.

And I ran.
I ran
until
I could see
the smoke
no more.

I ran
until
I was
no more.

I ran
until
the boy
became
a man.

And then
this teenage man
was alone
and cold
and lost,

but there was hope to be found in the alleys,
hope shoved in my hand
and pointed
at another man
only existing
in the wrong
part of town.

So blood.

Hands dirty
and never
could they
be clean
again.

So I ran,
but not far.

I found a spot
under an overpass,
where Amelio
proclaimed,
forever in red paint,
that he
loved Kelly

and that was my new home.

I collected
things,
mundane things,
to make my nest,
my new home

and I found friends,
friends who found me,
who offered
more conversation
than anyone
I had
ever met
before.

But then
the cars
started looking
at me

and people
were screaming
at me

and I didn’t
know what to do,

so I hid
with my remaining friends,
feline, fauna and Hector
and we shut out the world together.

Hector,
the hippie from Los Angeles,
just wandered out into traffic
and I have to go after him.

Happy Anniversary/Father’s Day To Me

My five year wedding anniversary was Friday the 15th and we stayed in a cabin at Hocking Hills in Central Ohio for the weekend. It was a wonderful three days with my wife, alone – with not even cell service. We went antiquing (and I liked it) and we saved the hiking until Sunday (our last day there), after we checked out.

Trekking through the mud (it was lightly raining) was a wonderful Father’s Day start.

We didn’t get home until 6 pm and my daughter fell asleep at the dinner table not long after we picked her up. I spent about fifteen minutes with one of my kids on Father’s Day, but it was still a wonderful day and a great close to an unforgettable weekend.

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On Saturday I faced my fear of heights and went on a 3 hour zip line tour. The zips were, on average, 60 feet up and 500 feet long. we did 10 of them and 5 cable bridges. It was one of the best adventures of my life. I would do it again, over and over again. I am jealous of the guides as they get to do it 2 – 3 times a day.

Great anniversary weekend capped off by a quiet Father’s Day. Sometimes it is not a bad thing that the kids aren’t al in your face on Father’s Day. Sometimes it is nice when the day is about the Father having time to think.

I hope all of your fathers and all of you that are fathers had a wonderful day and spent it how you wanted to. Sometimes that is the greatest gift.

Nothing To See Here

Not much going on in my head right now. Not that I have room to rent or anything, just what is going on is either not worth writing about or I am choosing not to write about it (more of the second, less of the first).

Memorial Day weekend is upon us, for those in my country, and I am sure something will happen over those 3-4 days that will give me something to share.

I also have an anniversary (my 5th) coming up and I will talk about that at a later date as well (closer to the actual day).

My wife is well. We are still married (thankfully – it was touch and go for a while). My daughter is 2 which means she is hell of two short legs. The dogs play too rough and bark at everything, waking my entire building up.