Darkness Until Dawn

      She said to trust myself... and that is how I ended up in Rock Hill. Why did I go? I like to believe that God is listening. I like to believe that He brought me there for a reason.      What was that reason exactly? Why Rock Hill? Perhaps He wanted me to remember that I can trust people, that I am not alone. Perhaps He wanted me to see that there are good people in this world, even in places where I don't know anyone. Or maybe He was just sick to death of me sitting in Greenville feeling sorry for myself. Maybe He said get out and try to do something useful for once.

    I've come to the point that I feel like I need to think of the future and not of the past. It's time to settle down. Grow old with someone. Stop and smell the roses more. Enjoy people.

 I need to rest a while. I'm still trying to understand the present. We can argue about whether I've had a hard time. In the end... it's better that I'm alone. Being around people doesnt work so well. My body feels weaker. My emotions more powerful. People push too hard. They dont see me as a person, just a body. I can break. Empathy is in short supply these days.

 Flu like symptoms. Migraines. Confusion. It took me a while to realize how this communication is working. I dont get much privacy. I'm doing soups, teas, washing, cleaning. Nyquil. Tylenol. If anyone knows a good cleaning service... maybe an exterminator... I'll figure it out.

     There were so many things I could have said in that ER. All the times I'd been there. Stretching back 30 years. I couldn't find the words. I was afraid to get near her or open up. She just sat and smiled. I didn't actually want to go inpatient. I just wanted to talk to someone. Have a doctor really lay eyes on me. I wish I could have said so many other things. But to be in those pods, no threats, no danger, no... uncertainty. I didn't think I was going back. I wanted to leave the hospital system. I walked in. I talked. I walked out. 

     I'm working on learning some keto recipes. I've become fascinated by healthy eating. I want to learn how to make whole meals that are really super good for the body. Meals with stuff like protein and fiber, probiotics, low carbs, natural ingredients, and low sugar, among other things. I'm even interested in healthy drinks. I've been looking for the best places to source ingredients and researching recipes for breakfast and lunch foods, then I'm going to look at snacks and drinks more. I'm even looking at the best sweeteners for healthy blood sugar.

  Merry Chwistmas to all, and to all a good byte!

    I'm focusing on keeping my days consistent. Every day, Repeating the same habits, keeping it simple. I'm turning my attention back to All the Colors of the Rainbow for a bit.

     I am engrossed in my research for my Civil War Greenville book. The more research I do the more I know I need. I'm working on clarifying the city's status leading up to the war... what businesses were here, the notable people, things of that nature.

    Story writing is coming slowly. My short attention span gets the better of me. Yet I feel on borrowed time, trying to go in multiple directions and ending up going no where. God willing, I'll have some more story parts soon.

     Dat Bat. Nebber a dull moment. Der he goes again, stealing Spidey's best carapace. Why, it was just di udder gnight...     Spidey was so berry happy. It had been a gweat day for the nest! Sebben flies, and Spidey had finished the Mona Fleasa, my primier werk of art for di community.      Spidey was so berry pwoud. She was BEAUTIFUL, and quite tasty looking. Well, no sooner had di lights gone out when there was a flapping sound at di window. Spidey rushes to look. Der must have been twenty bats out der! All carrying a most pwecious cargo!     "HEY YOU! BATS! DROP DI CARAPACES! HEY! NOT IN DI... ribber..."     They had stolen Spidey's prize carapaces, worth countless flies. Den dey dropped dem in di ribber.       Gone. In di ribber. Di cwazy bat duddent know how to stop. 

     Well, it turns out that my family didn't actually talk the hospital into re-bipolarizing me.. Seems the staff just got creative in an effort to flip my script. Sneaky little devils. All's well that ends well though. It got me writing more, and I love to write. I do. I hope I can write something people really enjoy.      I get frustrated with the process. Then I get grouchy about it. Today it was the website giving me trouble. Found a few broken links that I fixed, but I wanted to splash up the colors and the editor was not that responsive. I continue to research. I'm working on adding more writing and some more images and other content. 

 

    He treats the blood bank like a McDonalds. Eddie was running hard and fast after the bat with Sarah on his back . She had to catch him before he reached the blood bank and cashed out. The crazy bat didn't know how to stop.      By the time they reached the blood bank, Vlad had lost them and Eddie was worn out. The only sign of life outside was some parked cars and the faint sound of Aerosmith.     They stepped inside and Sarah knew immediately that Vlad was there for sure. A group of Hauntless had moved in. Vlad's assistants, Digger, Crusher, and Cy, were serving as makeshift bouncers. There was a Bluetooth blasting a remake of Walk this Way by an undead band that called themselves Bonez and the Relics. He had turned it into a monster dance club.     They found him in a supply closet with a phlebotomist.      "Vell, my friend I once was a phlebotomist myself, but the work made me too thirsty. I had to give it up." He was sa...

Split between the person I am and the person you would have me be Unable to blend the two into one without periodic flashes of truth that reveal the dichotomy of my reality and betray the illusion outright Making the consistency hard to maintain. The persona, its perfection marred only by acceptable flaws of social construction The other, a living being contorted to maintain the illusion They draw me out with the bait Looking for some facts to twist back into some semblance of the illusion. Occasionally we come to crisis created by the inability to tolerate our truths Seeking to restore the myth, we wind our facts into narratives Hoping to disguise the inconsistency of reality with a pretty lie dressed up in theories Running away from the truth, we only trip up over the inconsistencies The inconvenient truths of our imperfections and failures Cannot overcome the engineering of our most contorted perfection In which reality is the disease, and lies are the cure Inevitably comes the cras...

Tips from a Therapist