Desire Part 2.3

 

Desires of riches through

Creative means means means everything to me.

Drawings,

Novels-how novel,

Music paid to play and

Photography.

I want it all.

Desires of riches of the spirit

With God

Through God

My Guardian Angel

Speaks to me

And takes care of me.

Desires of love

Of another person

Mutual, true, deep

And understanding love

That lasts forever

That knows no end.

Desires of happiness

Through satisfaction of self.

Inside and out.

A POEM: Rose Colored Goggles (for Joe B)

 

Rose Colored Goggles (for Joe B)

 

Speaks slowly as if expectations are for you to savor every word

When he’s not too busy exercising his inherent talent for listening

To the ranting, venting and complaining of others.

 

The secret mystic patiently awaits his turn to react and advise Wisely his positive spin on whatever it is

I am self absorbedly going on on on and on and on about persistently like an ADD child demanding attention

 

Intuition and listening are his gifts yet unrecognized because of his

ASSociations with the mentally challenged or selfish, self absorbed people in his life.

He has answers but has learned through the years to wait to share them

We are not always ready for the answers

 

As you get to know and love him you realize he is human too

Moody, judgmental and self righteous like the rest of the world

Showing this side to only the closest of allies

We and or I accept this for all he has endoured with our friendship

Through years upon years

 

Relationship dynamics change as with all intelligent free thinkers and sometimes we grow apart and then grow back together stronger

A selfless man in actions sets the example I strive for.

Well grounded yet spiritual, mystical, creative and verbally expressive.

 

I call this man

I repeat man

As my best friend

And a major contributor to society and God’s world.

Conversations with Scar Tissue Past

Scar tissue expands every day on my wounded mind.

Sometimes I feel nothing. Denial? Remission?

Sometimes I feel everything. Projection? Frustration? Anxiety?

Scar tissues spreads and strengthens me and weakens me.

Sometimes my past will pop up and surprise me.

“Hey how ya doin?”

“Great. How are you?” *Stutter and shake*

Chocolate shake. Fuck you. I want vanilla. I always want vanilla.

“Livin the dream” *Shimmy, shimmy shakes*

Shimmy my ass. You’re dream must be simple. You must be simple. Fuck your shimmy, shimmy and your Goddamn shake.

“Oh. That’s great I guess.”  *Reelin and rockin*

Ahh.. that’s better. Reeling and rockin… Not living or dying just kind of rockin.

“Yeah man. I am so filled with gratitude for my wonderful life.” *proud statement loosing confidence*

“Yeah? Me too. What are you so grateful about?” *Twisting and shouting*

“I woke up today. The sun is shining. I have love. I have friends.” *it goes on and on and on and . . .yeah*

Doubt and reconsideration of this fool standing before me. Too evasive. Too general. Hides the scars and pain and the past. Denies it.

“Are you grateful you took a shit?’ *sarcastic laughter held in*

“Wha. . ?” *confused by ninja verbal dance moves*

“Are you grateful you found a dollar to buy some food?” *humility or self righteousness (can’t tell)*

The past faded away as I questioned and hustled and even disco ducked..

Hope or hopeless. Doesn’t matter if I remain in motion. Mental motion. . .Keep going and no matter the scars or the past or the pain, the spirit is well. Always is if I tap into it. Do the twist. Shake it out baby. Shake, rattle and roll.

You know how it is, Rockin and rollin and what not.

You cna live your dream. I’m living my life. It’s worth every scar.

Women. You Can’t Live With Them and Men Are Assholes

Women. . . You can’t live with them . . . . Men are assholes that fucked women up. The messed them up for guys like me. Maybe guy like you.

 

We are all a result of our personal experiences in life. Most of us stick with what we experience in life early on and it seems we stop changing in at a certain age. Look around. You can usually tell how old someone is by what they wear, their hair styles, how they speak and their interests like music and television. You know the types. You can tell when someone grew up in the 80’s, 90’s etc.

 

Ahh…. The mysteries of the male and female relations. It’s never been solved but I have my theories and opinions.

 

In my dating experience and the older I get I find that I am less and less of a commodity and I gather more and more baggage. The same goes with the women I encounter or date. It’s been a while but I have been paying attention to other people’s relationships. So when I date a woman I am also dating her last boyfriend/husband/fiancé, the one before that and the one before that. Each experience she has changes her in some ways. This seems to go against what I said earlier about people staying in certain mentalities from early life. It’s been my observation that each man they date reaffirms her attitude from early life rather than changing it especially the women that have had traumatic experiences with men in childhood, teen years and early 20s.

 

So, the reason I was thinking about this is because my friend is having guy troubles. She’s been dating a guy that grew up in the same city neighborhood with the same friends and family dating the same type of girls his entire life. My friend grew up in a backwoods environment and transitioned to the center city life and has had different types and tries to let go of her past relationships when entering a new one. They are only a couple of months in and he didn’t realize how many male friends she had. I hung out with her last night and she let him know she was going out with a guy friend. He started to get jealous. She even called him while we were out to assure him it was cool. His jealousy got worse and worse.

 

Today she posted a photo of us on facebook and he freaked out with even more jealousy. She’s not used to this. Even in her wildest times of her youth she never cheated on a boyfriend. Apparently he has or he has experienced girls cheating on him.

 

It got me thinking about the line from when Harry Met Sally (yes I watched it several times and I’m proud) when Harry says “No man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.” I found this to be fairly accurate for me personally until I hit my late 20s and early 30s. Sex became less important and friendships become more important.

 

I suspect that my friend’s boyfriend still has that mentality in his mid 40s. My friend is a pretty tough bitch sometimes and she won’t tolerate it. She’s still upset about it.

 

The other code I cracked a while ago that I don’t always follow or live up to is the “women are bitches” and “men are assholes” mentality many people seem to have. It’s pretty simple to me.

 

Women are attracted to confident men. In many cases men that appear to be confident are actually cocky. There’s huge difference between cocky and confident. Cockiness is fake. It’s a way of overcompensating for insecurities. These men are usually assholes and dickheads. Men that are nice and accessible appear to be weaker and unconfident and a lot of them are. A woman gets the cocky guy and he turns out to be an asshole. Then she is either a victim or a bitch.

 

Men are attracted to confident women. The louder and more aggressive women turn out to be bitches because of their insecurities. The nice accessible women appear to be weaker and too easy so he turns to the cocky woman and she turns out to be a bitch. It’s a vicious circle for some of us.

 

Due to my personal struggles and variety of women I’ve dated I have been an asshole, a nice guy and a confident man. I’ve had the most luck being nice and confident.

 

I’m not even going to address my thoughts on love. Let’s say, for now, that I have no opinions on love.

 

Love ya.

Thank God I’m an Athiest

A religious rant? Maybe. Maybe not.

Does it really matter what I think or feel about religion? I rarely talk about it but her goes nothing.

Actually, something happened today that got me thinking. I ask questions on formspring.com and I ask things that I’m curious about in people in general. Sometimes I’m silly, sometimes I’m curious and sometimes I’m serious. I asked about 130 people that I follow whether he/she believes in God or a “higher power”. It was interesting. The most interesting answer I got was confrontational.

“Do you believe in God or some sort of “higher power”?” I asked.

“Better question: Why is it that in our culture it is completely acceptable for a total stranger to ask some one the details of their spirituality? Why is it that we do not treat that information like the intimate thing that it is? People often structure their personal morality on their religion or lack there of, so it stands to reason that it should be a much more in depth conversation than “so do you believe in God?”. Honestly I think it is vulgar to toss out that question as simply as you might ask some one about the weather. Short answer: That’s not something I discuss with some just any one.” She answered.

I wasn’t trying to be deep or intrusive. It was pretty much a yes or now answer type of question. I was really curious as to why it seemed personal to her. I’ve asked way more personal questions like “What is the first thing you do after sex?” and there were polite answers from people that did think it too personal. I don’t feel attacked by the god answer but it threw me off.

Personally, I never cared much about the existence of God until I was introduced to the 12 steps where I “had” to find a “higher power” to help me recover. I kept it simple and call Him God but my interpretation or beliefs are flexible. I know that God could be anything. He could be Jesus, Buddha, Allah, nature etc. I’m open enough to believe that it could just be something in my own head that I “pray” to. It worked for 20 years. To a certain degree my non-descript God is still working. Like any human I lose faith. I also gain it. I keep on truckin’ despite my persona;. Emotional and physical problems and I still depend on a “higher power”. It’s just changed. I know that I am in control of some things and I have no control on others.

I just heard a great comparison to Bipolar disorder to the weather. It’s a daily thing. I rarely check the weather reports. I open the door and check the weather and then I know how to prepare for the weather. My mind is like that. I wake up depressed and I know the things that I have to do to prepare for the day.

This is how I explain my belief in God. It varies day to day. I don’t expect things to change. I just want to be prepared for what’s ahead of me and the ability to accept and change it. That’s my belief. I don’t think everyone should have the same view.

I used to bash various religions especially the one’s that seemed pushy. I hated religions that had the “holier than thou” attitude or “believe what I believe or you are going to Hell”. I could go on about all of the wars in the name of God and tear apart the hypocrisies of the members and clergies but that doesn’t help me. My personal beliefs help me. I don’t know if any religion is right or wrong. I do know it’s wrong to judge someone just because they do not believe what I believe. That is my only problem with religions. Every religion, atheist, agnostic, organization or group has it’s good points and bad points. They all have members that set a good example for the above-mentioned groups.

I don’t have any answers. I am open minded to believe that any belief could be the right one. There may not be a God. There might not be a heaven or hell. I may be my own God.

I never overanalyzed it like many people I know but I was pretty judgmental. I was lucky that religion was never pushed on me. I was raised Catholic. My first natural family weren’t real consistent with it so I found church boring and uninteresting. I was “adopted” at 11 and my new mom was (is) an ex-Catholic nun and my new father was and Agnostic Jew (ex-Jew). They raised me with my options open and I chose not to choose. I did what any self centered teenager might do. I lived for the moment. Instant gratification was my middle name. (still is sometimes). In college I wrote a paper about God for a philosophy course. That was the last time I really gave God or spirituality a thought. I received an A on the paper but was failing life.

As I mentioned already I was encouraged to find a “higher power” when I stopped drinking at age 24 by 12-step meetings. It changes as I do. He or She changes as I change.

One point I took a brief interest in studying Anton LaVey’s Satanism. It preached more peace than I expected. I was curious because LaVey seemed such a charismatic character. He was witty, intelligent and convincing. Then I realized that his distaste for the Catholic Church made his “religion” pretty much the same as any other. I don’t judge it or any religion at this point.

The individuals of various religions and the Atheists are the ones that get to me. The “haters” from each organization religious or otherwise are the ones to give what they claim to represent a bad name. If you are that convinced that your way is right for you then the need to recruit and convince others your way is the only way then you should live your beliefs not preach hate.

I am not committed to or hold anything against any religion or belief system unless it involves hatred and violence.

I think I had a point with all this. If not oh well. I haven’t written a blog for a while so here it is.

Rich Hillen Jr’s Digital Art

What is Your Problem??

Monday night. Monday nights were unlike any other night in my life for the last 19 years. I’m not supposed to break my anonymity but everyone that has read my blogs even semi-regularly or even knows me as a person knows that I go to AA. I have been going for over 19 years even during my relapse in 2008. The Monday night meeting has been my “home group” the entire time. A home group is that one place that a person commits to being there every week and takes responsibilities like setting up the room and making the coffee etc.

 

I rarely missed my Monday night home group until the past 4 months or so. Maybe more. I can’t remember. I started getting anxiety attacks really bad close to meeting time for several weeks in a row. Then I would find other excuses not to go. I would get sick or something. Even last night I should have been at my home group meeting and I had a bit of anxiety and depression then I had a bad allergy attack to top it off. I just discovered I have a shellfish allergy. I ate an egg roll without thinking tonight. My roommate has also been doing a lot of cleaning lately and I am allergic to every product he uses. I really appreciate the cleaning but I can’t breathe and my throat is closed up. I took some Benadryl and it worked but that wasn’t my point.

 

I love to go on tangents.

 

The point is that the anxiety and hesitance of going to my home group meeting has bled into the rest of the week and I rarely go to a meeting at all. I still pray and meditate and maintain a semi-spiritual state of mind but I’m not actively helping others in the way of going to meetings and sharing.

 

Of course this leads me to judgment on my recovery from alcohol and drugs and working the 12 steps. It’s a known fact that people with addictions like mine have little success on their own. Even though I feel like being alone most of the time, I rarely feel lonely. I am comfortable with where I am at despite the occasional anxiety attack. I pray every day. I am overall productive and creative with the various projects I am involved in.

 

I am ultra self-aware a lot of the times. I can’t figure out my aversion to going to meetings. I’m not consciously working the 12 steps but when I look at my life I am doing what’s in front of me and living a decent life doing the right thing.

 

Sometimes I rack my brain as to why I don’t want to go or get anxiety from the idea of going. I have a few concepts but they might not hold up in court. I thought it might be the increase in the number of people in the home group. It could be the girl I secretly like but won’t admit to myself or anyone else that it’s true.

 

I feel disconnection with the people I’ve known for years, Some I can even call family. It could be the recent return of an ex best friend after a close to a 5 year hiatus. I feel uncomfortable around him sometimes and he jumps right back into his role of “king” AA, which gets on my nerves.

 

 

I do force myself to go to a meeting every now and then but I either get anxiety or I get really bored with it. I get nothing out of it. Then again that describes many social situations for me lately except for the events that I have to be at. Most of the time anyway.

 

I’ve come to accept this new me. The loner. The isolator. The writer. I just have problems when it comes to going to meetings for some reason.

 

It could be that although I am comfortable with the new private me, I am not comfortable with the social me yet.

 

Maybe it’s not a problem at all and I am over analyzing like always. Maybe I’m just temporarily uncomfortable with going out and it will pass or maybe my new life is just that- “new” and I have to adjust and maybe I won’t go to meetings.

 

I still don’t drink and I still believe in the 12-step program as a way of life. I am living it in my own “loner” way.

 

I am positive that whatever the problem is that I will be fine. I will survive. (Cue Gloria Gaynor)

 

Acceptance is the Answer to myyyy…….. Blah!

“Life is great. My head’s a mess” I said when asked how I was doing by someone I haven’t seen in while.

He knew exactly what I was talking about. You see usually in the 12 step groups I go to people that are recovering usually say the opposite. Life is horrible but I’m doing well. I can handle life on life’s terms. So can I. I can’t handle my mind on my mind’s terms all of the time.

I’m a changed man. For better and for worse. A few years ago I went through some major mind altering changes. I was drugged for Psychiatric reasons and for physical reasons. I was in a horrible relationship that we both knew was horrible but kept fighting to stay with each other. As the relationship drew to an end and the drugs were affecting me more and more I turned into  recluse. I didn’t want to be bothered with anything or anybody. I went to work, I came home and wrote a bit then that was it. I ended up relapsing and gave up 16 years of sobriety. I hit bottom pretty fast emotionally and spiritually so I went t the people I knew could help me. I got help.

I was more than eager to change my life and people saw it. I got better in the emotional and spiritual sense but I remained a recluse. I soon moved back in with my parents for financial reasons and to help my ill adopted father. I always have to clarify that since I actively see my biological dad. That’s another story. My adopted father died the middle of last year and I stayed with my mother. Despite my sadness and increased anxiety at work and home I kept on writing and living. I found myself going out less and less.

This past year has been one of major growth and acceptance. My mind is still ut of control at times no matter what I feed it.

Long story short too late as an old friend used to say) I lost my job of 6 years, came into some money, finished and published my first novel, collected and republished my Serial Killer Coloring Book, moved out of my adopted mom’s into a 2 bedroom house with a friend, started a new business venture (http:novaboon.com) with my friend and housemate, I landed a high paying new job,  and just today there was an article in the Philadelphia City Paper about me and my evolution into a novelist. It was in reality a great year. I don’t always feel that great about it but the facts are the facts. I still get anxious, manic and depressed at times. I’ve grown a beard and my hair a bit to match my mood and it seems to fit. I’ve taken a liking to being alone. I am the opposite of everything I used to be.

I have also developed a slight agoraphobia. I have panic attacks when I go into public sometimes. It’s unpredictable but for some reason when I have to be somewhere like work or something I get by. It’s the social settings that get me, Then again I can get anxiety just sitting on the couch or driving my car.

I recently thought of something my adopted father once told me. “Learn to accept yourself. The good points and the bad things. Accept who you are.” He said. This is exactly what I am going through now. I am in the process of accepting myself for who I am right now. I am not the same person I used to be. I don’t care what people think for the most part.

“life is great and my head is a mess” but I have accepted myself for who I am anxious or not.

 

Want What I Have?

“I had a person say to me “I don’t want what you have” so I said “How do you think I feel?”” this guy shared at a meeting once. It was funny yet it made so much sense to me. Sometimes I don’t even want what I have. Ya know? Do you? I think most of us live in between happiness and unhappiness. It’s as if everyone has a little bipolar disorder in them. Not literally but everyone has ups and downs in life. Some if us have it in extremes.

If you ask me how I feel right now I’d tell you that I am a fucking mess. I’d list my problems that I’ve mentioned in previous blogs. Well, depending who you are. If you’re the mailman, next door neighbor or the guy that works at 7-11 I’d tell you everything is fine. Actually once I’m in public I feel ok but then I feel bad when I am alone again. I’m also sick of talking about it with most of my friends because I haven’t been good for a while. You might even be sick of reading about it as well. Are you?

Overall, I am usually a positive spiritual person with a deviant warped sense of humor and odd interests. It is a struggle lately to balance my spirituality with my mental breakdowns and anxiety. I start every day with prayer, meditation and medications. The first hour or 2 start off find and I feel fairly spiritually fit. Then reality kicks in and I panic. I choke. I find it hard to function on a daily basis. Every day is a slow progression to a freak out. I get a few things done towards moving. 2 days left before I have to clear the house. As the day goes on I feel more anxiety until I can’t take it anymore. The next day is a little worse.

The part I hate about everything right now is that I feel all alone. I try to talk to people about it and they either pretend that they understand or change the subject. The other thing is a lot of my friends offered to help me and then when push comes to shove they don’t. I had 3 different people offer to help me move heavy furniture out to the trash yesterday and they all bailed. No one wants to help me move or pack and I can’t blame them. They’ve helped a lot in the past. I did it myself. Today I moved all of the heavy furniture to be moved downstairs from my 3^rd floor bedroom so when and if my one friend comes on Friday it’ll be easier. It also cleared the floor so I can finish packing. I know this isn’t a big deal in real life but in my head it’s overwhelming. Ugh.

Seems like I can write all I want about it and the feelings don’t change. Usually writing helps but it’s just a momentary distraction like everything I do.

My point is that I have no point. Ha. Actually, I’m trying to say that I don’t want what I have right now so it’s tough to talk or communicate with people and function at all. I know in my heart that it will all pass. This too shall pass. I have to go through with the feelings and move on through it. I know there’s a spirit of some kind with me at all times but I’m just not feeling him right now.

Tune in next time when the writer says “Life is grand. I’m happy joyous and free.”

Laziness or Fear?

I’m not lazy. I’m motivationally challenged. Seriously, if it doesn’t give me instant gratification or I’m not getting paid to do something I am not motivated to it. Whatever “it” is. In this case it’s packing, cleaning and moving in a week and a half. I look at the tasks in front of me and get a surge of anxiety and panic seeing all that is in front of me. My head knows that I have plenty of time and can do it in baby steps but my anxiety tells me to panic and freak out. I do a little of both. Actually, I panic more than work.

Most of my life things almost always fell into place for me. As I get older I find I actually have to do the work. Now that I have a God in my life I want to sit back and let things happen but it doesn’t work that way. Many religionists say that “faith without works is dead” meaning I have to do the footwork. The job will not just appear. I have to look. The move will not just happen. I have to pack and do the moving then unpacking. Money will not just magically appear. I have to go out and earn it. The girl won’t appear. I have to keep my eye out. The list goes on.

Everyone around me is excited and happy about the new house I am moving into. Everyone except for me. To my room mate and my friend who is renting me the house it’s a brand new adventure in a really beautifully furnished house. To me it’s work, responsibility and a major change in my routine. I’ve been pretty spoiled since I lost my job the end of May. I’ve been busy but I’ve been doing everything that I want to do. Sitting on my porch writing and creating has been wonderful. Low rent. Minimal responsibility. Money in the bank to cover me.

Now it’s going to all change and I feel my world turning upside down. It frightens me. It creates anxiety. I’m moving into the real world and I’m afraid that I can’t handle it. My savings have dwindled. My unemployment isn’t much. I have a lot of bills. I haven’t lived with anyone besides my parents and girlfriends in years. I hate to publicly admit my fears but they are there. Despite my daily contact and dependence on God I am still afraid of the unknown. I can’t shake it.

Sure I suffer from a few disorders that are sometimes crippling but so do a lot of people that live responsible productive lives. Writing about it helps ease the anxiety but it also keeps me away from actually doing anything to help with the move. Any little thing or commitment that I have seems like a big deal to me right now. Even small things like making coffee or emptying the ashtray seems like a major chore.

This too shall pass. I know this to be true. Next month Ill be settled in my new dwelling and probably have a job lined up or an additional source of income besides unemployment and I’ll look back and wonder why I made such a big seal out of everything. That’s what I do. Worry. Repress. Get anxious. Put it off until it has to be finished then do it. It’s done. So is this rant about myself. Thank God.