Have A Nice Day

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. And fuck, yet again. I have censored my blog and my thoughts by sharing them. It becomes harder and harder to write exactly what I feel and think. I feel constrained to write something happy or else risk re-hospitalization, divorce, or some other pleasant fate. But if I censor my writing I become a thing trying to sell an image of myself to other things. I have traveled that path. It was not pleasant.

My writing is, was and I believe always will be a selfish act. How could it be otherwise? My writing is selfish because the words I share all arise from within my brain and my SELF. Thus, they are SELFish. Perhaps there are other sources for the words. Perhaps there is some magical force or being that exists outside the laws of nature. I certainly hope not. Otherwise, I should have to reconsider the reality of the visit I received from Gaia in Japan, and such a maneuver likely would land me back in the hospital – not a happy fate. At least not from my perspective, although there are perhaps some who would prefer that I live out my days in some safe place. If I am honest, at times there is a part of me that yearns for this safety – a simple cell where I would not have to face the demands of others. Yet, I am fairly certain that soon I would chafe at the boundaries set for me. (I hear the thoughts of others as they judge and classify my words as being typical of the hysterics of a manic-depressive. So be it. I just don’t care anymore. Who is there that is not to some extent insane? I have yet to meet them.)

It will soon be time to howl at the moon and drive off into the distance for a time. Isn’t that what crazy people do? And, as I said in my book (with a line stolen from a friend): “I am crazy, and I have the papers to prove it.” My most recent evaluation and hospitalization have shown me that I do not have control over my mental state. Despite the years of the best efforts of medicine and at least some work on my part I am still classified as “very unstable”. Very well. Let it fly then. I have been very crazy before and it is virtually a statistical certainty that I will be so yet again. But, importantly to any sane person reading this, know that you need not fear me. Since becoming sober (and insane at 10 years sobriety) I can recall no instance when I was a physical threat to another person. I do not recall stealing from anyone. I do not recall lying (well, at least not to the point of being pathological or malicious about it). I know many sane people who have engaged in all of the above and yet I am the one hospitalized for being crazy. Is it any wonder that I find this situation confusing? Yes, a lengthy road trip is probably a good idea. I do love humanity (most of it anyway) but I find it easier to deal with people in small doses. A road trip is a good way to have solitude without being totally alone.

Many times I trust no one. I feel as if people expect things of me that I cannot give them or that I come to expect things of others that they cannot provide. Yes, I know that AA says an expectation is a resentment waiting to happen. This observation does not change the feelings – it only makes me ashamed of having them. During the periods when I distrust others I am difficult to be around. I try to be kind, but I am distant and cold without meaning to be so. Perhaps this is why I identify so closely with David. Institutions truncated his social skills, just as alcohol and drugs truncated mine. It takes great effort for him to fit in and be normal. Despite his best efforts others often critique his behavior. I sense that David is aware of this and that it causes him pain. He works hard to improve his skills and he is changing – but I imagine sometimes he feels as if the length of the road is just too great and the grade is too steep for him to manage. His frustration and shame at the situation can erupt into rage or despair. I feel that way often – even though I do not have David’s history of trauma to explain my actions.

Yet David and I did his laundry yesterday. I brought Rejeanne some roses yesterday. I drove Adam on some errands. Today I will have lunch with Oliver. I will walk. I have written at least this drivel. In a limbo of habit I move forward. Perhaps my emotions will catch up with the motions. Yes, once again, I know AA says “Fake it til you make it.” Today there is little comfort in that phrase – in fact it pisses me of for its triteness – like telling someone, “Have a nice day.” But enough whining. The sun shines out the window.

There. That’s good. Good to have a happy ending. Have a nice day!

Note Bene

Rejeanne in case you are reading this and are wondering if still love you – remember that I always have and never will not love you – it’s just that I AM CRAZY and I don't do a particularly good job of being the kind of husband you deserve. I accept full responsibility for my craziness. It is NO ONE’S FAULT. But a lot of times I feel like I have only one leg and I am being expected to run the marathon – I hobble as best I can but will never keep up with my two legged fellows. Rest easy my love and have a great trip to Florida.