Friday, October 28, 2011

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 3 Issue 42

Synopsis: Actor Bruce Willis and writer/director M. Night Shyamalan reunite after the surprise success of The Sixth Sense for this supernatural thriller. David Dunne (Willis) is taking a train from New York City back home to Philadelphia after a job interview that didn't go well when his car jumps the tracks and collides with an oncoming engine, with David the only survivor among the 131 passengers on board. Astoundingly, David is not only alive, he hardly seems to have been touched. As David wonders what has happened to him and why he was able to walk away, he encounters a mysterious stranger, Elijah Prince (Samuel L. Jackson), who explains to David that there are a certain number of people who are "unbreakable" -- they have remarkable endurance and courage, a predisposition toward dangerous behavior, and feel invincible but also have strange premonitions of terrible events. Is David "unbreakable"?

Spoiler Alert: This movie sucks but somehow it scored like 7.3 rating on IMDB (nothing makes sense in the world right now). As mentioned before I’m a firm believer that this is Bruce Willis’ worst movie but it got me thinking. This past week has been pretty awful for reasons that I’m still trying to cope with. During one of my coping sessions (I’ll admit it, I’m depressed as a mofo) I started thinking about the possibility of my very own Elijah Prince out in the world.

I mean if Willis is “Unbreakable” shouldn’t there be someone out there who is totally “undeserving”? Instead of walking out of disasters without anything more than a scratch there has to be someone out there sitting in a life full of everything they’ve ever wanted but did nothing to deserve it. I imagine my “undeserving” had everything come easily to them, that they haven’t had to work for anything in their life, and that they have been given everything.

At times I’ll sit at home grappling with the fact that it seems no matter how hard I work, no matter how much I want it, no matter how much I do right I end up feeling like a piece of shit (last week for example). During these times I’m fixated on going back over the events of my life trying to find the answer to why it seems I can’t get off my ass and make it. I overanalyze every detail trying to determine if it was my fault that I’m feeling like complete shit.

I mean why can’t a creepy weird black man enter my life and answer all my questions? Why can’t I have a stalker from afar that is full of the answers? Well maybe because I’m the black man in this completely overrated movie. Could it be that I’m the one that needs to seek out this undeserving bastard that has had his life handed to him? Is it possible that this spoiled dude on the top of the world needs me to come around and creepily attempt to destroy it?

As much fun as this quest sounds to find my more than lucky son of a bitch opposite that’s life has been filled with everything but adversity, I really don’t know where to start (the top 1% maybe, oh conservatives calm down it was a joke). The truth of the matter is I know my opposite is somewhere out there sitting under palms at their private villa with a female companion that’s not superficial at all. While I sit and bitch on my computer in the middle a field by myself (well Tug’s here, but damn it he won’t quit barking). But all kidding aside (except for my distaste for “Unbreakable”, that’s real) even if my opposite is somewhere out there I want to let them know I actually feel sorry for you. I mean living an “undeserving” life that just comes to you despite work ethic and without adversity can only spoil someone. If life comes that easily to them, is it really worth it?

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

Friday, October 21, 2011

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 3 Issue 41

As some of you keen observers may have noticed from last week I’m not really feeling that great. At first I thought it was due to the fact that I lack anything that resembles patience and this was leading me to my irritability and crappy moods. I’ve been feeling some anxiety as I’m anxious to move onto the next step in my life (three years in recovery is starting to test me, I’d like to be able to support myself again at some point of my life).

In order to try and counter this Big D offensive (yea I watched a “Modern Marvels” over the VC tunnels in Vietnam, those tunnel rats had some balls let me tell you) I decided earlier this week to take a hike (without the deer antler helmet, still trying to figure out whoever sent that). I hadn’t been to the Clifton Gorge since I was a kid so it sounded like a plan. I figured I’d take a couple hours and try to find the patience I’ve been lacking.

When we were kids Stubby would take us to the Gorge every so often and it was always a good time. Although I will admit as a kid we went during the spring when it’s wet and there are waterfalls everywhere and the water is running a ton faster (luscious vegetation is what I’m hinting at). This also meant at least one of us boys would bust our ass on the trail but it was totally worth it for the rock climbers and “three hot tubs” rapids. This fall everything was a lot drier but it still didn’t prevent me from turning my ankle around three times (increasingly embarrassing considering there were runners busting ass through the trails that I could barely walk).

The hike was great (we’ll call it 9 rock skips so that’s a new record Cuzin Art, deal with it) and afterwards I did feel better and was able to calm myself some. This was unfortunately short lived as the weather changed the following day and then a couple days ago I had the worse day I’ve had in awhile. I suck during the winter (2 hospital stays and depression pretty rampant) and it doesn’t help being in Ohio either. I mean the sun disappears for like three months during the winter here. It’s cold, dreary, gloomy, and dark where normal people get a little down and depressed, imagine trying to deal with all of this while also having BMD (it’s not real fun).

Which means I’m pretty sure my depression is starting to creep it’s punk-ass face out from hiding because during the middle of the week I was awoke around 4 in the morning feeling like the biggest piece of shit this side of the Mississippi (and probably the other side as well). I forgot just how terrible it can make me feel, it’s not even for the birds it’s that bad. I think I got a little spoiled on how good I was feeling over the past few months and that really pissed off the evil inside me (sore loser).

That evil is just as much part of the game I’m in as my mania and my depression. It wants to use my Big D to drive me down, hold me down, and force me to live a life that seems unfair to me. This evil is in the game to win it and while a nature hike may help out it’s far from the answer. My depression feels like it’s out to do one thing alone, and that’s force me to live my life in the corner (or the bathroom). It wants me to fear life and be forced to living one full of compromises. I’ve been through this before and it’s made me want to move from the harsh winters of the Midwest but I’m still here and I need to start fighting.

To fight back I like to think this evil I once believed had been given to me actually picked me. That it goes after the strongest of us knowing that if it can break them the rest will follow. I take pride in thinking that the BMD, Big D or evil feels threatened by me and wants to break me down. Knowing that every time I get back up, each tearful day I make it through, and every last battle I can fight through just makes me stronger, exactly the opposite of what my evil Big D wants (and I’m pretty sure I know who sent me the deer antler helmet now and told me to take a hike; game on).

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,


Friday, October 14, 2011

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 3 Issue 40

I spent yesterday (my first day off work) worried sick about bed bugs, yeah it did suck. I was once again a participant in an assessment of my mental health. This is about the 7th or 8th time I’ve had this unique pleasure of someone with a degree more than likely from a community college “exploring” my mental health and drug addiction(s). In the past I haven’t had much success with these assessments; for instance two psych ward visits (probably needed those though), placement in rehab (how can I take my lithium when all drugs are prohibited), dropped the f-bomb bigger than shit on a doc (he totally deserved it) and in a my most recent one completely lost trust within 10 minutes of doctors (stop trying to put me on more pills).

I will admit I screwed up and deserved this last assessment from my legal issues (20 hours of class from being resolved though) but to watch the secretary spray down the entire office with disinfectant after I visited with the “community college counselor” was worrisome. Then I overheard said counselor calling corporate to discuss the proper procedure to disinfect the office if a client reports bed bugs (it wasn’t me btw, it was another dirty butt). Not exactly the way I envisioned my first day of freedom from my summer job that seemed a hell of a lot hotter, longer, and not as much fun as it was in college (I did drop like 20 LB’s though, love life still dormant though). As I sat there in contemplation on the consequences of bed bugs (mainly that I’d have to tell everyone I have bed bugs) I began to think, what a crazy problem to have.

It reminds me of the daily, weekly, and just normal crazy problems I have to face in my life on a consistent basis. Finding healthcare, fighting the mania, dealing with depression, worrying about my career, concerns I’ll never be able to support myself, fears of waking up manic or even worse in another psych ward, and the list could continue. I at times envy and resent at the same time people around me for their problems. More times than not over the past three years or so it feels as though the harder I work the further I go backwards (still living off my family for instance right meow).

Then I see people around me finding success in their lives and complaining about it. Maybe it’s just the new “American Way” to bitch all the time but I find it difficult to find pity for your promotion, wedding planning, new home, new member of a family, or whatever “terrible” event in their lives that’s going to cost them so much money. It makes me at times boil inside and makes me want them to have a little taste of my world so they can appreciate theirs so much more.

As difficult as this is at times I need to realize they do not realize what exactly they have or what they’re doing. I may even need to thank most of them because they’ve made this next decision of mine very easy. I grew up in a town that preached the morals of Christianity, to have love and charity towards others that are less fortunate. To treat others as you would want to be treated, and for the most part I see that in my community now even with the “American Way” of bitching. This past summer I spent a majority of it running the business I worked in college as my family member who owns it was hurt in a wreck. I had zero problem helping out, it’s what everyone does when a family needs help in the community (seen it from Stubby to Poncho’s accidents) and he received a ton of support from the community.

Unless of course you have a mental health issue like mine. See no one dropped what they were doing to ever check on me, I didn’t receive one phone call, text message, email, letter or visitor in the past three years checking on me. However they weren’t too busy to expose the real reason I was hospitalized and brought home; drugs you see (yeah not BMD I guess).

I was resentful of this for awhile but I should be thanking them for this. By them I mean all of them, the assessment “counselors”, bed bugs, ungrateful peeps in my life, and my hometown Christian community. If it wasn’t for them I probably wouldn’t have the desire and drive to better myself I have today. Even despite the fact that at times it feels the harder I work the further behind I fall I’m not going to quit. I’m going to keep going and finally make it, because I don’t think I can stand to be around these peeps for the rest of my life (no I take that back, I know I can’t).

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

Friday, October 7, 2011

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 3 Issue 39

I’m not entirely sure how true this story is about my Grandpa Dick but Poncho has been told it miles away in a small town bar years after it happened and Stubby claims to be an eye witness to the account. So uh here uh, here uh, here uh, here uh we go.

My mom and aunts grew up with horses of which their lives were completely ruined by according them (tough life when you have a pony isn’t it?) oh yeah owning a pizza house to eat from whenever must have been terrible as well. In any case seeing how it was 6 females versus my grandpa he tended to drink (can’t really blame the man) and one of his watering holes was just up the road from the house.

Well seeing how the distance was too far to walk and Grandpa was all about safety first and didn’t want to drink and drive he would ride the horse up to the bar (genius I know). So one day Grandpa is more than likely up to his eyes in estrogen so decides to take a ride up to the bar. Unfortunately on the way there it started to rain so being the animal lover he was Grandpa Dick simply rode the horse into the bar to get it out of the rain (I mean it only makes sense you know).

Everything was going fine until the horse took a shit in the bar by a game of 8 ball and really upset everyone in the bar except for Grandpa Dick (where else is it supposed to go, I mean it can’t flush a toilet). Some family members were called to come and get Grandpa Dick and the horse out of the bar and they did but there were some consequences for his actions. The bar soon after put up a sign that read:

Banned 1 week from the bar:

Dick Leach and the horse he rode in on

Hahaha that makes me laugh every time I hear it. I was reminded of this story the other day when for some unknown reason I was thinking about my first stay at Porter Hospital. I’ve mentioned how in the Wards us patients really lean on each other. I didn’t know this at first and was kind of caught off guard on how honest everyone was in there. It was inspiring and made me search out for others to help.

The first girl I spoke with was a rodeo cowgirl, I think she did barrel races, who was in the Ward because of a boy (aren’t we just pricks sometimes, but you ladies aren’t all sugar and spice all the time either). She had tried to take her life because of him. We talked for awhile and we were able to come to the conclusion that that prick definitely wasn’t worth all of this going on around us.

It was a great feeling to help someone out like that, it made it easier for me to handle what was going on in my life. Maybe that’s why the Wards leave us to ourselves a lot. They know working together and fighting together is the best medicine (although it’s probably more of a budget thing but a guy can dream). So what’s the moral of the story? Is it the connection of the rodeo cowgirl with my mom and horses being some sort of sign? Maybe it’s working together should be something I look to achieve in more areas of my life other than just fighting BMD?

Nope, the fact that the cowgirl was released that next day and I was stuck in that Ward for days afterwards proves I must really have been bat-shit crazy. But I mean my Grandpa finds solace by riding a horse into the bar and allowing it to drop a deuce on the floor by the pool table, should I have expected anything else?nce many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

ming Correct, d01roK