Mental Illness, Death & Buffy the Vampire Slayer

April 2, 2011

It’s been a while since I wrote anything personal or what’s going on in my life and posted it. So many changes and so many things staying the same.

 

I’ve been a shut in. I’ve been anti-social. I’ve been out of my mind with my Bipolar. I’ve had the face pain from the Trigeminal Neuralgia (TN) on and off.  My anxiety Disorder has been acting up. My thoughts and feelings about life in general have fluctuated so much that it’s been rough to focus and complete anything. I have so many writings started and then I get distracted from my ailments. So, I’ve been pretty much working on various novels I’ve been working on forever and watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Ha.

 

It might sound funny but that’s what’s been getting me through the past month or so. I’ve been watching the series from season 1 on. Honestly it is a fantastic show. Well, it was a fantastic show. Underneath the goofiness, the vampires and demons etc., there is depth to the characters that I’ve been able to relate to and I’ve been opening up my feelings about life to myself.

 

I’ve been so disconnected for a long time that my emotions and relationships with people have died. I literally stopped caring about anyone or anything. My memories started cooperating. I started losing memories. My entire life experiences became a distant fog.

 

The final blow was when I started training for a job after 6 months of unemployment and I blew it on the second day. My TN acted up and I was up  all night and took my pain meds. I woke up 2 hours after I was supposed to be there. Since I was 14 or 15 I have always had a job. I’ve even had my own businesses. It was a real blow to me that my illnesses might be severe enough to keep me from holding a steady job. I fell deeper into my denial fog.

 

When I started watching Buffy I started to relive personal experiences that I’ve repressed and didn’t want to deal with. Lost loves, lost relatives, lost jobs, etc. It still seems corny that a cult TV series would start bringing me back to life but it did.

 

A few days ago my Aunt died. She was the one that helped me stop drinking and got me into “recovery”. I stopped going and believing in the 12 steps months ago and now that she’s gone it brought up everything. I remembered everyone that I’ve lost. I am questioning my part in life. In other people’s lives. In the 12 step program itself.

 

It’s tough to lose someone again. Someone I love and had such a strong impact on my life. It’s been really painful lately both emotionally and physically. It’s also been a good thing because it makes me feel human again. Although I can give a good appearance most of the time, overall, I have been out of my mind and almost completely numb. I’ve been repressing my fear, doubts, pains, my very existence. I was beyond hopeless in my mind.

 

I finally feel human again. Just by letting go emotionally I came out of hiding. Vicariously living in this TV show I actually woke up from my fog. Memories, feelings and motivation are surging through me now. I feel like I have a chance at life again.

 

I’m going to go finish watching Buffy save the world again and get another recharge. Ha.


Rich Hillen Jr’s Digital Art

February 6, 2011


Narrator’s View

October 26, 2010

Your not so humble narrator has been out of it for a bit. Not keeping up on the blogging. He’s been writing but not anything for the site. For you to pity or indulge in. For you to read, dear reader. Seems like there was nothing to say and too much to say at the same time. Doing nothing and everything at the same time.

 

Almost a month in the new house and everything has settled for him. He is not having the freak outs and anxiety like before the move. It took a few weeks for him to get back in the groove of writing. Busy unpacking, enjoying the new HD 40’ flat screen TV, getting rejected by women, reading and pretending to look for work. He still wants to avoid it as long as possible. Some days the day is seized and productive and other days are wasted away but overall your self-absorbed narrator’s life is pretty good. Living a day at a time and pretty much working on one project or another.

 

He sees great things in the horizon and knows it’s not going to happen over night and without hard consistent work. Stubborn and determined to see it through until the end and then maintain. New business ventures. New books to be written. New stories to be told. For such an isolating loner your narrator certainly has a lot of stories based on life and fantasy. Thank God. If it wasn’t for art he would have no purpose.

 

Stay tuned as he says “I did it again.” What he did or does or is doing is yet to be determined but I’m sure it will be documented for all to read and see, That’s you the reader.

 

“Thank you for reading and I hope you keep it up.” Says the narrator.


Friends

October 21, 2010

Friends. Friends. What are they good for? Absolutely nothing. I’m exaggerating but very few people stay in each other’s lives forever unless they are related and even relatives can disappear. People come and they go in our lives like our housing, clothes, cars and jobs. Everyone changes and can grow away or towards other people. Grow out of jobs, houses, clothes and cars. The loss of these things by choice or by circumstance. Why am I talking about this?

 

I’ve just been reflecting on old friends that have either come back in my life or come to my mind. Old girlfriends and even a wife have been going through my dreams. It seems that everything and everybody in my life have become distant memories that harbor no strong emotion or difference. I’m sure that they’ve had their place and served their purpose in my existence. I wonder why I once held these things in such high regard. No. I wonder even more as to why I don’t care as much anymore.

 

I’ve been told that it’s part of growing up. Or is it part of growing old? None of my current friends really care about me. I really don’t care about them. These seem like harsh statements but they’re true. I care about people at times to a certain extent. I pray for the people in and out of my life past and present. I care on one level but I don’t on another level. When I see or talk to some friends I have a good time but its not like it used to be. We all leave each other and go back to own self absorbed worlds.

 

I ran into an old friend the other night and he went right into busting my balls the way he used to. I was hurt. It put my view of friendships in perspective. I don’t want to be friends with an asshole who puts me down. I got back in touch with another friend a few weeks ago when his sister died. We both changed and got along really well.  He has a full life now so we won’t be seeing much of each other. Other friends I’ve let go of in the past because they weren’t growing but going backwards. I like to think that I am growing but it’s at a much slower rate the past few years.

 

I have family members of my natural mother’s side that have cut me off and want nothing to do with me because of my past interests in subversive arts and serial killers etc. I’ve made many attempts to get in touch and no response. It’s on them. People are people. People come and go including family. Family isn’t always blood. My adopted family accepts me as I am and including my eccentricities. I still wonder if anyone really cares or if I care for them. I appreciate them.

 

Love, lust, and crushes all come and go too. How many times have you said, “This is it. I’m in love. This is the one for me”? I’ve said it to myself countless times. Sometimes these thoughts lead to relationships that last years then they go. I could write on and on about the “what is love” question. This is about friends. Friends.

 

I’ve learned through the years that you have to be a friend to have a friend and I haven’t put out that much so it makes sense. I don’t think anyone cares because I don’t care. I’m not bitter or resentful I believe people are in their own worlds and the people in their world are just people in their world. I have my world too. You are just another person in my world. Sure I can name special things about people. I’ve been supportive to others and I’ve had other’s support, I do it because it’s the human thing to do. The right thing. I just can’t say I care much right now.

 

I’m numb to strong feelings about anyone right now and it’s ok. This will change with the next romance or the next close friend I bond with. I know that future relationships will most likely end. People, places and things come and go. Friends. Friends.

 

It would be easier if I re-define what a friend is. I’m not sure I ever defined it to begin with.

Then again, I’ve been told, “it’s not about me.”

 

Want to be my friend?


Are You Guilty of facebook Nonsense? I am.

August 19, 2010

Weird how what comes around goes around. Irony. One day I’m complaining about people “deleting” me on the almighty networking site facebook and the next day I want to delete people for expressing themselves. It’s not the expressing that bothers me as much as it is when I see people attack others through comments and status entries on there. Some even attack others by name. I have to remember that I’ve been deleted because people don’t like what I post. I have to remember that I’ve attacked people when I was angry on facebook as well. I didn’t use names but there was enough information for the people that knew the person figured it out.

I am going to stick to my guns for now. I made a resolution to not respond, attack or delete someone for their behavior unless it’s extreme harassment or threats or something drastic. Say what your going to say and I’ll deal with it. There is an option on facebook to hide people that you don’t want to read their statuses. I’ve used this before for silly stuff like being tired of hearing about what a person is eating every hour or their break up updates every few hours or even minutes. I still like these people and want to be friends with them and I can always unhide them at another time. It’s not as bad as Twitter.

Ok, I admit that I spend way too much time on facebook and I enjoy it. I go on to have fun and socialize especially when the real world bores me or I’m feeling anti-social in person. I try to be respectful, playful and fun. I understand that my interests and sense of humor may be offensive at times but that’s who I am and I have to work on not taking it so personal when someone doesn’t like it. One facebook friend got offended when I “tagged” her in a semi-sexual photo I posted. The term tag means I posted her name on a picture and then it appeared on my page and hers. She was very polite in her confrontation and she let it go and we are better friends for it.

Maybe one day I’ll get a real job and a real life and not be so concerned with such trivialities. These are just the thoughts of the moment and I’ll forget about it later while I am “poking” my friends on facebook while ding 10 other things on the computer. Ha.


I Can’t Run Away From My Mind

August 15, 2010

The past 2 days have been a living hell. This week has been pretty bad but I’m not feeling so great. Earlier in the week it was the weather that was killing me. That and the pressure of either finding a job or figuring out the hoops to jump through at the Unemployment office to get money for an education for my new desired “career”. I put career in brackets because it’s not what I want to do. It’s my “settle for”  “career”. I want to be a professional writer. I am technically but I mean make a decent living on my writing. My next choice is Drug and Alcohol counseling because it seems like the most rewarding and something that I have enthusiasm and confidence to do well. You know, a feeling of contributing to society. But this pressure and anxiety is getting bad and makes it difficult to go outside. I’m not kidding.

I moved in with my adopted parents in March of 2009 to help take care of my sick father who died in June 2009. We’ve been through and I guess my mother and I are still going through mourning. His Birthday was a couple of days ago. Also my mother and I make great living companions. We didn’t see much of each other because she was going out and I was working and going to AA meetings all of the time. When we did get together and eat or go out and hang out we enjoy each other’s company. Back in April of this year we decided to up my rent at the end of the summer and I that I would stay here for at least another year. She is eventually selling the house and moving into a senior type housing project. We were happy about the decision etc. Then came the unemployment.

I was fired from my Job of almost 6 years for bullshit reasons on May 26th of this year. It’s along story and I already wrote about that. I jumped right into unemployment and I had money away believe it or not and moved onto my creative endeavors with full force. At the time I believed that unemployment would provide free health care. It doesn’t. I had planned on enjoying the time off and getting writing done and creating and promoting. I was going to casually look for a part time under the table job to supplement the little amount of unemployment money. The halthcare situation put a damper on things and my mother has been on me about getting a job or going to school. I feel like a little kid again. The passive-aggressive behaviors have returned. “Yes, mother. You are right. Etc”,

I was really enjoying my summer besides the heat. I finished editing my long awaited novel. I self published another 2 books while I am waiting for my friend to do the final cover design of my novel. I’ve been writing almost daily and making short videos for YouTube. I’ve been forcing myself to go out and socialize because I’ve become extremely anti-social in real life. It still exhausts me even though I enjoy it. I gave no thought to a job or career until a few weeks ago.

I was at an AA meeting and I saw someone that worked at a Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Center. The thought hit me that I would like to do that. I asked her what I need to do to get into her field. She said that the place she worked would hire me and are looking for people. The train you and help you get your proper credentials. The only problem is that you have to be 2 years sober and I am a few months short. She gave me a number and name to call and told me to try anyway.

I called the next day and the woman told me to call back in October. So, at first I put it in my mind that I would get that job in October and I wanted to ride it out on my savings and my unemployment checks. My mother disagreed. She wants me actively doing something. After 2 months of writing and getting my books together she feels it’s time to get a move on. She’s a great mom that asks very little of me around the house so when she wants me to do something I feel obligated to do it. The pressure is on me and I keep repressing it.

I went through the motions slowly by going to different orientations at the Unemployment office. It’s been helpful and confusing. Their web site is tough for me to navigate properly for some reason. I found out that certification is costly and so is the education needed. To top it off  the job site of unemployment has a “in demand” career section and your choice has to be in demand. Drug and Alcohol counseling is not. I’m wondering if I should just forget about it until October or just get a job and say fuck it for now. Maybe get a job until October. It’s definitely causing friction in the house now.

My mom  has one daily rule. My car has to be out of the driveway by 1-{30 am unless otherwise noted. On Friday she needed me out by 9:30 am and I didn’t get up on time and she was going away for a week. She left in a bad mood and it set me off in a bad mood. There’s nothing like the feeling of disappointing your mom. Well, my mom. The panic attacks and isolation has hit what feels like an all time high ever since she left. I thought I would feel free once she left but I feel the opposite. Ever since I was adopted at age 11 I have had my adopted mother’s voice in my head reminding me of the right thing even stupid shit like putting down the toilet seat. You can probably imagine the things I hear her saying now.

There was one point where she thought that I wanted to be mentally ill and collect social security and disability. She has no time for dealing with the mentally ill. Physically ill she can handle it and has pity and understanding but not mental illness or addictions. Maybe she’s right. Maybe not.

The problem is that you can’t see my Bipolar disorder or my anxiety. It just looks like I’m lazy or super motivated. I’m not lazy. I’m ill. I have to remind myself of that because I have no defense. The medication isn’t perfect. Even God can only do so much. I have to deal with it and live in my skin as best as I can moment to moment. One day at a time.

I feel a little better but I’m still anxious.


Don’t Read This- Another Day

August 3, 2010

The night was moist. No. The night was dark. Wait. The night was quiet. Who gives a shit? The night is the night. It’s after 1 am in the morning and I finally decide to write something after a few day hiatus. I hate not writing everyday. I hate not doing something creative. Is this creative? We’ll see how it goes.

My cousin came over for the day with her 13-year-old son. They are visiting from Alaska. We hardly know each other. We got to talk a little this past Christmas and at Grandmother’s funeral this past January but it was very little. We’re even friends on facebook but we hardly know each other. We like each other we’re family. Even if it is my adopted family. The entire family has treated me like their own since I was adopted at age 11.

So, My mom, my cousin, her son and I went to lunch and then went to Granmom and Grandpop’s grave site. My cousin’s son or my 2nd cousin made rosary and he wanted ot bury it at the site. He did. It was sad yet a beautiful gesture. Grandmom really loved him. Her only great grandson.

We all came back to my mom’s house where I’ve been living for a while to hang out. I went into my anti-social world and on the internet on my porch to smoke. I edited my Serial Killer Coloring Book a little and wrote and returned a bunch of emails and got too hot and tired and went upstairs to nap. I woke up just in time for dinner with my cousins and mom. Of course I went out for a smoke and some coffee until dinner was served. We talked for a while and then I excused myself and went back to work on my project and played around on facebook. It’s as if my computer projects and internet world is more important to me than family I might not see for another year or more.

The next thing ya know I’m off to pick up a friend for a meeting and off I went. My Monday night meeting is the same one I’ve been going to for ove18 years every Monday. It’s my other family. It’s not just a spiritual event it’s a social event. I hung out talking to friends for hours and came home exhausted. I don’t know whether it’s my Bipolar disorder, social anxiety or too much caffeine but I am worn down and into feeling up to writing. I have to do it anyway. Right? Writers write. Right? Here I am feeling anti-social, depressed, tired but can’t sleep and I somehow feel the need to tell you this. Share it with the world. I only want to be social online and on my terms. I should have skipped writing this and just went to bed. I’m going ot go do that. Don’t read this ok? Thanks.


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