Life is Changing and Changing

November 14, 2010

Life is changing and changing. I heard that if your not changing and growing then you are dying. If you are a creative person and you are not creating then you are dying. The past few months have been different to say the least. The past few years have been unusually different to say the most. Some days I’m so focused on  my goals and dreams and other days I’m off the races in my mind and can’t function. I don’t know f I am growing but I am changing.

It seems like I keep waking up and everything that has happened in my life was a dream. Good dream and bad dream. One day I’m living in an apartment I can’t afford even though I had a job and I was whacked out on pain meds, psych meds and life in general the next day I’m clean and sober with less Psych meds living with my parents helping my sick father who eventually died. Then I’m in house with my mother and I lose my job but I have money in the bank and a little unemployment coming my way so it was comfortable.

I published not just one novel but three books within a moth. I felt great creatively and spiritually. I believe those are connected. Life is rolling along one day at a time. Then the pressure starts hitting me to think about a career. A job. Something. My mother and my friends think it’s time I go to work. I secretly disagreed.

What I thought was an epiphany turned out to be a fantasy and an unrealistic reality. I thought that I wanted ot get into Drug and Alcohol counseling. I talked to some people and researched half assedly. I found out I needed two years of recovery to get into the particular places I was looking for. I used it as an excuse not ot look for anything else.

I woke up one day and I am suddenly renting a house from a friend and out of my mom’s house. I still have no job and my savings are dwindling. No muney and more bills. I have a house mate. We started a business venture that may or may not pay off but we at least started it.

I went form no job plenty of money living with mom creating every day to sharing a house with a friend and business partner with no job and no money and less motivation to write and create. My energies are in the business. No income is expected for a while but I refuse to work. Sure I do a little part time work for an uncle but nothing serious.

My anxiety levels and agoraphobia keep me house ridden for days sometimes. I hate socializing. What happened to “good time Charlie” as an old friend once called me?

It seems I went from mr social guy to hermit overnight. It did take years. Some say it’s part of me growing up. Some say it’s my mental problems. Some say “get a job, ya bum”. Some say nothing at all. What can they say?

It’s not easy being human. I was going ot say me but I know everyone has problems. They just don’t wear them on their sleeves or like merit badges on their chest like I do sometimes.

I never thought that I’d be at a place in my life where I refused to look for a job. I’m not sure if it’s stubbornness, fear, my determination to succeed in other areas, or my mental illness and anxiety.

I went from having a job and lots of money living with my mother to no job, no money, paying rent etc. I keep waking up everyday in a different state of mind with a different focus and different awareness. I wonder who am I? Where am I going? What am I doing? Then I run away and hide in other thoughts that either thrill me or upset me fro the day.

The only thing I know is that tomorrow is another day. I never know what is around the corner and if I at least try at life I will feel a live. I hope. I always have hope.


My Anxiety Belongs to me. You Can’t Have It.

September 13, 2010

I want to write, discuss, talk or whatever it is I’m doing right now, about anxiety disorder and panic attacks. Since I feel one coming on I figured I’d write about it while I am experiencing it. Why not right?

Anxiety disorders and panic attacks are defined many ways in different medical dictionaries, doctors, psychiatrists and the people who are inflicted. Personally, I never understood the attack until I actually had one years ago as a result of a reaction to an anti-depressant. Then I didn’t have one for years until the stress of my last job combined with being diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. I discovered that high anxiety goes hand in hand with the time worsening bi-polar disorder if untreated. I treat both on a daily basis with medications. Nothing too heavy. I’ve been down that route too and it was zombie land for this guy. Me.  So, I can only describe what anxiety and panic attacks are for me.

Remember that nervousness you would get as a teenager when you wanted to kiss a girl or boy in your heart and stomach? It’s like that multiplied by 30 and even 100 depending on the attack. My heart rate goes way up and my stomach has those nervous butterflies then the feeling goes through my entire body while my thoughts race uncontrollably. Usually negative thoughts. Sometimes the thoughts go so fast I can’t think at all. It’s as if too many thoughts create an empty mind or something. Sometimes I sweat and feel like I’m going to pass out but usually it’s the nervousness inside and out that I suffer from.

My anxiety makes me feel immobile and trapped unable to move. It’s crippling at times. Some would say I have agoraphobia because when I am feeling the anxiety and I am supposed to be somewhere I find myself unable to go. Sometimes unable to move at all except to get up and go to the bathroom or move from one room to another.

Luckily I don’t suffer from this everyday. When I was working my last job I had them 3 or 4 times a week at work and once in a while before bed. Now it’s down to once or twice a week. Recently, I’ve been getting them on Friday and Monday nights. I have no idea why. Sometimes the anxiety is triggered by things I don’t want to deal with and things I put in the back of my mind. If something upsets me I get them too. Lately it happens for no reason on the surface and I am afraid to dig for the root cause because it may trigger another one.

For almost 19 years I’ve been going to AA. Yes. I’m an alcoholic too. I’ve been a member of the same meeting group on Monday night ever since. It’s baffling to me as to why I am getting panic attacks on Mondays lately. The closer it gets to the meeting time the more it builds up. Last week It started around 6:30 PM and lasted until 10 PM. I took extra medication and it still wouldn’t go away. I used to be comfortable there withal of my friends that I’ve known for over 15 years and some 18 almost 19.

The new crowd might have something to do with it. Lately it has become a big meeting with 40- 50 people attending and I am used to it having 20 or so. Yes. I’m also claustrophobic as well. This has become worse over the years especially when the anxiety attacks started. It might be the ex-girlfriend that attends that I am mad at. It could be the young lady that rejected me when I asked her out. It could be the loss of friendship I feel with some of my long-term friends there. Oh boy. I’m thinking too mush. Remember I said I felt an attack coming on. Its been getting worse while I am writing.

I love when people tell me to “just man up and get over it.” The same wit drinking. “Just use your will power.” “Your not bipolar you just have ups and downs like the rest of us.”

It’s like any other disease or disorder. If you don’t have it you won’t understand it. I’m just writing about it hoping it will cathartic. It isn’t. At least I had something to write about and you have something to read. I’m going to go hide in a corner now.


A Pleasure Filled Reunion – A Poem

September 2, 2010

I wrote this a few years ago.

Pleasure filled reunion, reminiscing and regurgitating our past recreation. God and mankind mock our modern misguided motives. We’ve barely nursed our own wounds and we’re already trying to nurse each other’s.

“Come with me my love. To the sea. The Sea of Love” Phil Phillips sang in 1959.

“Love Stinks” J. Geils sang in 1980.

“Love sinks” I say right now.

We hold hands as we once again walk carelessly across the landmine of love knowing that the bullets we are dodging are secretly nicking the future.

You squirm in my arms as I deliberately let you go to see if you come back. You run as far as you can until I appear out of nowhere and we start the game all over again.

We share a cigarette and watch the sunset on TV.

“Change the channel fast before we get too close” you think to yourself out loud.

“Please settle for my low-brow passions instead.” I think back.

Communication has always been our worst way of dealing. Or is it the best way? Not too sure anymore.

My head shrieks and my heart whines. You are the best of times and the worst of times. I have only one choice and that’s to take my time.


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