Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 5 Issue 5

It’s so good to see you! I know it’s been forever hasn’t it? What have I been up to you ask?

Well in the past six months or so I’ve lost a few lbs (the chunky look just doesn’t work for me), been on a few dates (just a few but dammit it’s a start) and wrote a novel titled Maniac Manifesto (it’s a self-realization story about a revealing journey into a psychotic mind). No big deals.

Don’t worry I have Facebook so I know what’s going in your life. Oh I almost forgot if you were at the Bengals game on Monday night and happen to catch the Jumbotron I was up there too. I backed it up on my unassuming and unaware stepsister (her fiancé was pretty cool with it) and then did the robot (best dancer in the club). I did all this while showing support to my favorite underdog; Andrew Hawkins (that means I was rockin’ his jersey through my public dance routines).

I usually go with a fairly popular Who Dey when selecting my jersey for the year (at least I don’t paint my face for games, I gave that shit up in high school man). Palmer, Johnson, Dillon, Houshmandzadeh (championship) but I’ve been feeling like an underdog this year.

Could it be that I still reside in a converted corn crib covered in asbestos, mold in the shower, termite damage, leaking house? More than likely.

Could it be that after a year of searching for a job and even Oakley’s outlet store says no thank you? Probably.

Could it be I played a summer soccer league and only got hurt playing a high schooler in pick-up basketball? No idea but that did suck.

Could it be in the past week I’ve lost my credit card (in my wallet) and my wallet (in the trash truck)? Not really but I still feel real dumb for those moves.

I mean the list could go on and on but we haven’t talked in six months and who wants to hear me bitching (although when I should call it venting because it sounds so much more pleasant). It’s also not like I’m unfamiliar with getting knocked down, just always looking for a reason to get back up. Last week my reason was brought to me in a sense.

Despite a bomb ass (if you don’t mind me saying so myself) book review from the Director of Communications at NAMI I still get no love working with them. This being the case I try to take it upon myself to get out there and educate (ok I just like being the center of attention from time to time) people through talking about my BMD. I had a chance to do this at a Witt freshmen class after the professor asked them to read some of Somewhere Over the Rainbow. 

Put me up in the middle of people with their attention and really no rules (I said the f word, don’t tell their parents) and I take full advantage. I really enjoy it because the students, usually a few minutes in, are comfortable enough to ask me just about anything, and it not only helps them but also me. At the end of the class I met with a student that shares my fate.

She was an underdog just like me and it rejuvenated me talking with her. My so called shitty (I guess underdog sounds better) life didn’t seem to matter anymore. I could relate to her in a way that’s kind of addicting, in a way that makes me want to do it more. 

So I’m back, feeling good and looking not nearly as chunky (maybe that had something to do with the dates) what more could I ask for?

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 5 Issue 4

Lights come up slowly to reveal the Lombardi living room where Michael and Lombardi are found.

Michael: “An abnormal psychology professor stands in front of his classroom and lectures about mental health symptoms to his class. Sensing a lack of engagement in the material he tests the class with a question. A subject is pacing furiously back and forth while screaming at their top of their lungs one minute and then sits stoically and solemnly alone without muttering a sound the next. What is this person? A few seconds past when a hand appears in the back and exclaims: A football coach!”

A moment passes with Michael and Lombardi frozen in anticipation when suddenly.

Lombardi: “Hahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahah hahahahahahahahaha.”

The entire playhouse erupts in laughter, it was the biggest and best punch line in the entire play. Well I thought watching two fairly feminine actors play football players that get in a brawl with each other in the locker-room was pretty funny. I seriously just wanted them to kiss each other as they went toe-to-toe, the sexual tension in the place was out of control.

Ok, that’s a little harsh on my end, I’m just venting from the mental health joke. I mean seriously we had to go to coaches being crazy to be funny? That’s not played out or anything. The good thing is they didn’t try to go back to the well with that joke or anything. Oh except the very next scene when Lombardi is butchering the joke (I took liberties as well but the joke is still coherent) while “retelling” it to his alcoholic wife. By the way Vince, if you were crazy you would have probably remembered the joke, we tend to have higher intellects.

I know that’s enough cheap shots at Lombardi, he can’t defend himself now and plus he was a devout catholic that went to Mass every day and said God Damn only 40 times in the 96 minute play. That was the last one I promise. I actually did enjoy the play of Lombardi and that’s not only because it’s the only one I’ve ever been to. Unless you count that one high school play I attended but I was only there because my buddy was dating a palm tree in it or something. Actually I think it was Oklahoma so she was a wagon wheel.

To be honest I didn’t learn much about Lombardi because I had already seen a HBO special over him and they usually bring the heat with those things. It doesn’t matter how far into the “The Rivalry: Michigan vs. Ohio State” I still watch that son of bitch to this day. There was a little bit of an evil side (I’m so deep ya know) though to me during the play in that I kind of wanted see someone screw up. I just wanted to see what would happened if one of the football players like tackled the wrong person or better yet fell down. I just like to watch people’s reactions to screwing up I guess, life ain’t perfect and it’s fun to be there when people are reminded of that.

Don’t worry no one dropped the ball and if they did they all covered so well I couldn’t tell. Overall I really enjoyed the show though, I mean aside from the crazy joke. I don’t why but it just pissed me off that they even included the joke in the play, it really didn’t have anything to do with anything. Other than I guess making me go off of this God Damn (shout out Lombardi) tangent right now and it’s actually been kind of fun.

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of humanity (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 5 Issue 3

So I spent about a week or so in January working on a piece for Witt’s website around a first person perspective on the current conversation around mental health and the need to change it. I thought it was a pretty solid effort on my end and here’s some of the highlights:

·         I don’t think there’s one right or wrong way to try and live with a severe mental health issue like bipolar disorder, but I do think there is a way. That may not sound like much of a breakthrough to you but dammit that’s like a huge revelation for me.

·         I know it’s crazy to think that these mental health stereotypes and stigma will ever cease to exist and I’ve obviously made peace with that per the previous really bad word play.  

·         It’s all around us so go be a hipster and check out Daniel Johnston’s documentary on VHS, how about being even more ironic and listening to a Beethoven  hit or two just for pleasure, or maybe just stare at a Catherine Zeta-Jones picture for a few minutes, not to mention Van Gogh’s aren’t too hard on the eyes either. Oh I don’t know, like say, I’m really getting into Demi Lovato’s sound right now and you should too.  Actually, just ignore that last one but you all get the point.  I hope I have persuaded you to help and try and change the current conversation out there about mental health; I think we all need that. 

I’m not sure if you’d call those highlights but they were my jokes that were cut out of the final edit of my op-ed piece (is it still in my voice if nearly 25% of it is removed during edits?). Look I know my humor isn’t for everyone and that was made obvious by an early critic who believed the only person who could benefit from my book was a recently frat boy diagnosed with bipolar disorder (harsh, right). But I kind of feel like that’s who I am and the whole point of the article.

I should be fair and say it wasn’t a terrible article afterwards and I definitely could have gave the OK to the article (and did for like an hour) to let it run. I mean overall it was still a pretty good article aside from it not really sounding like me. I think there still was a valid message in the article about the need to get away from stereotypes and stigma currently in the mental health conversation but it just didn’t sound like me.

Let’s be honest, I don’t have a lot in my life right now that’s purely mine. Not money or job, nor career, no house, nein girlfriend and the list could go on but who doesn’t have problems (hell Russia is already stockpiling snow for the Olympics next year by making orphans shovel it instead of being adopted in the US-now I see how some don’t get my humor). Right now though my voice is one of the few things that I believe is truly mine and I’d like to hang on to it.

You know being an indie writer with literally tens of books sold I should jump at any opportunity for some press. But my whole point of the article was to have people look at mental health differently. Looking through a creative lens rather than one that seems to be only filled with stigma. So it just didn’t feel right putting something out there that wasn’t really me, in fact, that sounds exactly like what I was trying to change.

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 5 Issue 2

I don’t trust a grown man in whitey tighties, I just don’t. I always wondered what kind of circumstances a man would have to endure throughout his life into adulthood that would make him want to freely wear whitey tighties? But then again I’ve always been too nervous to ask my grandfather as well. It’s probably something I don’t really understand but involves a lot of cats (or maybe cat videos on YouTube). See I switched out of whitey tighties by at least the eighth grade (nerd alert!). But my transition through men’s underwear garments after that went pretty quickly. Before my sophomore year I had switched to boxers and have recently transitioned into boxers with the elastic waistbands (best of both worlds).

In case you’ve gotten the image of your grandfather in whitey tighties out of your head I wanted to remind you of that before moving on (or put it in if you hadn’t had it).

Almost like it was planned in order for this post to move on I’m going to have to go to the past. Oh not very far in the past but just a few months back around the beginning of summer. I was talking to an old tall college buddy for the first time in years and catching up. It was great to hear from my sister (GCU inside joke) and how well he and his family were doing. That’s a pretty common theme with all my friends; you know a normal life that moves on.

That something fairly recent I’m noticing that I’m going to have to try to learn to live with and that’s watching a lot of others move on with their lives around me. Sure it’s a little tough when it doesn’t feel like I’m moving on but you know I’m overall happy because these peeps are my family and friends. However a couple weeks back I kind of got blindsided and it wasn’t pretty.

So to backtrack again back to my tall college sister’s conversation with me and something he said that kind of resonated with me:

“I know you probably can’t see it because you’re in the trenches taking grenades but you’re doing something pretty special…” then he started talking about his kids or wife so I zoned out (I kid, I kid).

Well a couple weeks back while successfully being the wrong candidate for a job in A-Town I must of took a gay bomb in those trenches because I…

(Haha I’m probably the only one who thinks that joke is funny.) But seriously finding out that a few of the finer examples of mankind (that was really sarcastic they’re actually dicks) that I hadn’t seen in five years were getting to move on with their lives, and it felt like I wasn’t felt like, well I can’t think of anything clever so it felt shitty.

It took me a couple weeks to kind of get over it and try to deal with it I guess. Sure I’m jealous-much (well just a little jealous but I feel I haven’t introduced new slang in awhile) when I see others moving on with their lives around me but I am usually happy (I’m not perfect) for them. Man seeing some of these real stand up guys (sarcasm again) get to move on with their lives when I don’t think they deserve it was just shitty.

But I think (and probably hope more than a little bit) that I’m just in a transition going on with me and it’s tough to see because I’m taking grenades and southern gay bombs like left and right. Maybe as much as I wanted a resemblance of my old life before the BMD diagnosis it probably isn’t going to happen. I don’t think that means my life is going to be worse than it was before and honestly I’m not real sure what it’s going to look like now. I’m pretty positive though I’m not going to be the grandfather with just whitey tighties on, but a banana hammock could be fun.

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 5 Issue 1

So to begin the New Year instead of making a resolution to make changes and better myself I’m going to bitch about others (so ‘Merica of me I know). Seeing how I’ve been feeling rather shitty lately due to the depression I haven’t been very active. In fact I’ve read more books in the past couple weeks than in the whole previous year (that was only like one any ways). I’d squeeze my reading in between lulls in college football because everyone and God is watching the bowls you know.

Now it’s already been fairly well documented on this blog that I’m not real religious and don’t really get the traditions and what not. For instance the other day I was watching “student-athletes” play in a bowl game and after a player, let’s say an outside linebacker, comes up and makes a good play to stop the ball carrier at the line of scrimmage he does this move:

(If you’re playing at home that’s the first movie reference with video for .e4. I admit I’m still getting the hang of it so you can just go to 38 seconds to get to the punch line for this joke).

Although I’m pretty sure he wasn’t referring to Austin Powers and more likely was thanking his Christian God for making it 2^nd and 10. Never mind that the play, which just lasted a whole five seconds or so is not even a cosmic asshole wink in the grand scheme of the Universe (or that it was first down for that matter) but it’s fascinating the player's belief that God cares more about him making the tackle than he does for the ball carrier (who happened to be a really nice fellow I'm told). So this got me intrigued with the whole spectacles testicles wallet and watch routine so I did some investigating (like I said I’m in depression and will do anything to pass the time).

What I found out (other than if you don’t do it in baseball before an at-bat your sabermetrics drop in all four of the major offensive MVP categories…nah I made that shit up) is that the “sign of the cross” is not merely used in Catholicism but other Christian branches (there went my joke about the outside linebacker not looking like he went to Mass regularly) and it’s a sign to open communication between yourself and God (he must have AT&T too because it’s awful in the country).

Speaking of speaking to God, I’ve been cursing Him a little bit lately (we have that kind of open loving relationship) because I’ve been feeling pretty terrible. This makes me get frustrated in the many aspects of my life that I’m finding unfulfilled and insignificant because of my depression and which I thus place blame on God for giving me bipolar disorder. The only problem is that I wasn’t getting any kind of response, not even when I dropped the F-Bomb. After the research session I think I know what the problem is now, I wasn't doing the testicles wallet and watch thing so he probably couldn't hear me. I'm going to change and try it next time so I guess there's one unexpected New Year's Resolution after all.

The only real problem with all this is that I’m not Christian so…depression you strike again ; damn you!!!

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 34

I kind of pride myself on white elephant gift giving; I did have to learn the hard way though. My first Christmas in Denver my team at AT&Tizzle had a white elephant and I took it serious (the only one who did by the way). Needless to have to explain in any detail but my gift made me more than not look like a tool.  After that experience I committed to go balls deep when it comes to white elephant gifts.

A Couple of Family White Elephant Gift Highlights:

2010: Grandma received a gift certificate to the Lion’s Den

2012: The family shared the King Cobra and 10 sack of White Castles (I’m not telling who bashed the burgers but they definitely got eaten)

Well Shit, I totally forget where I was going with that…

Well I’m sure it was something corny like don’t be too quick to judge a shitty gift or something. Like for instance that Lion’s Den gift card I think got stolen so many times no one is really sure who ended up with it (although Poncho seemed pretty happy for awhile after that Xmas). Even the King Cobra and White Castles were a hit, well the 40 not so much but those burgers definitely didn’t make it very long (so why do White Castles have five holes? Because it takes 5 BB’s to kill a rat).

Back when I was a Coloradoian, Coloradonite; when I was living in Denver I totally missed the point of the white elephant. I mean I’m pretty sure I was that lame person that bought a DVD I wanted so I could steal it back (ok I definitely was). I soon realized the whole point of the shitty gift is the game involved and really had nothing to do with the gift at all (confession: I totally wanted that Lion’s Den gift certificate though).

In a roundabout way what I think I’m getting to is that I’ve been feeling pretty crappy lately. Yes there maybe global warming going on but winter has returned and Big D has come right along with it. Although I’m getting better at recognizing the symptoms because this time it only took me like two days of wanting to walk out into the middle of a cornfield and quit trying before I realized that was just that depression bullshit messing with me.

Since then I’ve still been having my troubles from time to time but I think I’m handling ol’ dick Big D (that’s my new nickname for it) pretty well. I’m sure he’ll be back with a vengeance at some point in the near future but like my doc’s have reminded me that there’s no cure for BMD (so I’ll just deal with it).

I suppose to try and wrap this thing up (get it?) I’d say that as bad as ol’ dick Big D can be its just part of what I’ve been given with this BMD. Even on the days I feel pretty cruddy I can usually at least write some for my book or whatever and it makes me feel better. That’s probably why I’m starting to look at it with a real familiarity to a shitty white elephant gift, in that at first as bad as it can seem it can still be pretty great (corniness achieved).

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 33

This is a turbulent and dynamic time in politics all across the world. There’s the Muslim Summer, wait that’s wrong; Arab Winter; no that’s not right either. Well in any case there’s been a ton of people in the Middle East trying to be free. Europe is on the brink of a catastrophic economic breakdown (and the Germans aren’t too pleased about it; which has never been good for history). China and Russia are well, China and Russia. Finally the political atmosphere right here in our own country is on a fiscal cliff of intolerant partisan bullshit.

Speaking of bullshit have you ever seen those commercials about a certain anti-psychotic by the name of Abilify? You probably have and just zoned it out, I mean you’re not psychotic right (maybe you are, you know that I’m not judging though). I know before episode Uno I always just zoned out during those drug commercials that had no relevance to my life. I pay a little closer attention now, especially when it comes to side effects.

Abilify Side Effects:

·         fever, stiff muscles, confusion, sweating, fast or uneven heartbeats;

·         jerky muscle movements you cannot control;

·         sudden numbness or weakness, headache, confusion, or problems with vision, speech, or balance;

·         fever, chills, body aches, flu symptoms, sores in your mouth and throat;

·         increased thirst or urination, loss of appetite, fruity breath odor, drowsiness, dry skin, nausea, and vomiting;

·         seizure (convulsions);

·         thoughts of hurting yourself;

·         feeling like you might pass out;

·         jaundice (yellowing of your skin or eyes); or

·         urinating less than usual or not at all.

I like to drink that all in from time to time because this drug (and its side effects) is approved by the FDA (that’s our intolerant partisan bullshit government I referred to earlier). A doctor can legally prescribe you to take the double recommended daily dosage of 15mg and the side effects that accompany it (yeah I was on 30mg which is the last dosage that has been “safely” tested in a clinical trial; makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside). I experienced a majority of these side effects and I will say I really didn’t have any favorites.

So I was going to list the side effects of lithium (the drug I’m on now) here but while looking them all up  from the world wide web I found this gem of a warning from a respected medical website (no I’m not naming names):

Lithium can cause side effects that may impair your thinking or reactions. Be careful if you drive or do anything that requires you to be awake and alert.

Looks like I have to stop writing (and basically living life) and continue to try and live and write later when I don’t need to be awake and ale...

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 32

Some guys are just naturally smooth and charming. They understand how to talk to women and to get exactly what they want. It’s like second nature to them; they don’t have to think about their next line in the conversation. It comes just oh so natural to them. On my good nights I can come close to these guys but then there’s my bad nights, when, well when something like this happens.

It was a few years back and after meeting the love of my life for that night we ended up back at my place. Things were getting pretty hot and heavy as we made our way into the bedroom when the talking started. I must admit I was a little caught off guard but that’s really not an excuse for my behavior.

As she is lying on the bed she looks up to me and says:

“Give it to me Derek!”

I said, “I’m about to.”

She repeats herself, “Give it to me Derek!”

I sing this time, “Cuz that’s what I was born to do!” then instantly start laughing.

She wasn’t entertained and that’s where the night and that story ends. I’ve always had this trouble of kind of drifting away when I really should be paying attention. For instance when I was in Little League while playing second base I would always get in trouble for drawing in the dirt between pitches (better than getting made fun of for standing like a woman at midfield during soccer games; it’s just more comfortable dammit).

I know that’s weird and so is losing your own imaginary games as a kid. The whole point of playing imaginary games as a kid with yourself is to win the game, to have fun. But no, even in my imagination I would get distracted somehow and end up losing the game I was making up. I don’t know how many times I’d lose my imaginary game by like a point, that shit is irritating and usually would lead to me quitting the game.

I never really thought about those small things in my past (insert penis joke here) other than it was just me. I mean I definitely know I was the only one drawing G.I. Joe stick figures instead of shading towards the middle but you’ll have that. The whole losing your own games as a kid still baffles me because I could have simply changed the damn rules but this BMD can be crazy at times. Even so it can be a little comforting knowing that there’s a reason for the way I do or did some things.

For instance why did I have to make up that entire story about the one night stand from earlier in this post? Oh I know why, because it makes me laugh. I will say though it that does sound like something I’d do.

                                                                                                                                                                                      

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 31

Sandy, Kentucky Long Butts, Ironic Jerseys, and 9 airplane bottles of Jim Beam couldn’t ruin this pic (but somehow Derek could).

Ok I admit it, I really don’t think that Derek ruined it and he might even have made it awesome. These were our seats for The World’s Largest Cocktail Party (or Georgia v Florida for you Yanks). This is a long lasting rivalry of a game that’s filled with classic southern traditions like Frat Beach. What, you haven’t heard of Frat Beach? Well you can simply YouTube it or….well just YouTube it, that’s a lot easier.

Although I do have one complaint (other than I was a communist for not voting for Romney) and that’s there was a frickin’ hurricane. I’m blaming sandy for the lack of appropriate beach attire. For some reason it was trendy/cool/unattractive as hell to wear Kentucky long butt shorts and ironic jerseys. I’m definitely losing touch with fashion as I don’t particularly find men’s jean short cut-offs pulled above the belly button attractive on; well anyone. They form that long flat ass look so popular in the commonwealth of Kentucky (and I’ve had my run-ins with Kentucky).

I guess the Larry Johnson Hornet’s jersey kind of makes it funny but I didn’t think all so much; just disappointment here. Those jean shorts make you look like you’re on your way to a soccer tournament for your kids. T.O.D. doesn’t play that.

That’s probably more than a little confusing, see there’s already one Derek in Atlanta (and more than likely even more if I looked into it) so I’m The Other Derek; or T.O.D. As much as I thought it was a gag at first it really does make the conversation go a lot smoother. Overall my trip down South (although now for some reason calling barns carriage houses annoys me) was a success.

Well maybe not a total success because I still haven’t tried grits (I’ll eat them on my OWN terms thank you) and I didn’t look for any where to live. The grits are supposed to be funny but the whole living situation is kind of serious. I’ve been planning a move down South for a while now because I figured I’d be the one to have the accent down there and that would help me (I was reminded that it really doesn’t). I also did think that the mild winters couldn’t hurt and that the job market would be a little better.

Other than being slightly bigger than South Solon I’ve also got a pretty decent network in the ATL so I figured somebody would hook it up. But about a week before I took off to watch #2 Florida lose (which made it even better) I was contacted about a job here in Ohio that’s in Sports and Sales. I interviewed right before I left and then was offered a job while down in Georgia.

It’s been four years since I’ve felt this healthy, four years of getting my ass kicked in so many different ways that I wrote a book about it, four years since I’ve been able to really attempt to stand on my own, and four years of just wanting a chance of getting back to a resemblance of the life I used to have. As much as I want to move South, I just couldn’t pass this opportunity up; it’s just been too long. Besides I can still move in the future, and hopefully by then that Kentucky Long Butts trend makes its way back to the commonwealth and dies there.

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,
d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 30

A couple years back I was down in The Nasty visiting some friends (and more than likely striking out at the bar) when my buddy and I were talking a little late night chat. It was one of those late night talks where the alcohol isn’t at all involved and you’re 100% level headed. I’m sure at this point in the night we had already talked about politics (thanks again social media for ruining the Presidential race) and religion (I would have a smart-ass comment here but I’m afraid God would smite me for it). Naturally the next uncomfortable topic of conversation for 2 am is crazy shit in life; for instance, let’s say my health.

“So man, tell me the truth. Will you ever be free?”

I responded without any hesitation.

“No.”

At that point of time I truly believed that I wouldn’t. I mean look at the facts I was dealing with here. First over the past two years I had been in two separate hospitals (or psych wards if you want to be a dick about it) due to my manic episodes. Deuce I had yet to find a doctor, or insurance for that matter, because I’m such a profit risk with my pr-existing condition. Thrice I was having more than a little bit of trouble supporting myself. IV, you know I think you get the point by now.

I really did believe that my BMD would have control over me for the foreseeable future. I felt like despite the fact that I had done it right, I worked hard, bought my time, kept my head down and did the things I needed to I was still in last place. I would see how everyone else was moving on with their lives and I couldn’t understand why I didn’t get even the opportunity to do so. Why I was given BMD that was unfairly and without reason causing havoc on my life?

I guess I was just lucky.

It’s still true today, there are feelings of unfairness and uncertainty in my life but I don’t really think I’m imprisoned by them anymore. Of course it has been a sad long time since I’ve been on a date but I’m going to blame myself for that one (oh and South Solon). I still from time to time want to run off to a tropical climate and disappear from the bullshit in my life but who doesn’t struggle on cold Ohio mornings? The drawn out point that I’m attempting to get to is that as of late I don’t feel really all that enslaved by my BMD. I actually can feel pretty free.

See I’ve been telling this same friend that I was going to do stand-up for the past few years. I have no idea why I want to do it but it seemed like a lot less work than learning a new hobby like Kayaking or Quidditch. I mean I even have a bluegrass song about a vibrator that I’m going to close the act with (it’s pretty damn funny if you don’t mind me saying). I actually spent some time this week working on the other bits (that’s industry talk for jokes; I think) for my act and am definitely going to try an Open Mic night.

I truly believe that in my life before the episode and all that madness I wouldn’t have had the nerve to do something like an Open Mic night. I would have been too preoccupied with more “important” things in life (the quotes mean they really weren’t all that important BTW) to do something I’ve always maybe wanted to try. In a way the BMD has freed me so that I’m willing to go after and do things I never would have before because I figure I have really nothing else to lose. I mean I know what/who I am and I think a lot of other people out there don’t and maybe that frees me and makes me lucky in a way (it would also probably help with the song if I learned to play bluegrass music though; I mean Steve Martin won a Grammy in it so how hard can it be?).

                                                                                                                                                                                      

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 29

Before the scoreboard controller had the time to put the 1 up on the score for the Giants in the NLDS yesterday I was already bitching.

“Game Over. Fire Dusty. Biggest collapse in National League Divisional Series history.”

I was just a bucket of optimism yesterday. So much so that even the bartender was throwing jabs at me for my lack of confidence and fan-hood (wasn’t even drinking). It was bad; I was being a little bitch (at least I didn’t call myself a little cu…mmm, ok maybe that’s too much).

I was driving around the country yesterday because I also hate grocery shopping for some reason right now and I needed to eat when I started to daydream. I have all the reasons in the world to be in a good mood right now. I mean I’m finishing up my Masters and graduating (not too shabby for a psych ward stay mixed in that time), I’m moving down to the ATL soon and will finally be healthy (or as close to it as possible) for the first time in four years. But yet I bitch.

I couldn’t figure it out why I was being such a moody prick all of sudden in the past couple weeks. I should be excited and looking forward to the coming weeks like tailgating the UGA v. Florida game at “The World’s Largest Cocktail Party” but I just couldn’t. Then for some reason I recalled what a Witt Abnormal Psych student had said to me when I visited her class:

“It seems when you’re in depression in your book. Your sentence structure is simpler; there isn’t the creative description like in the other sections. It just seems that you can sense the depression in your writing at the beginning.”

Prior to hearing this I hadn’t ever really considered that the Big D could affect me so much that it could be seen in my writing. But after the description from the student she was definitely right and I think I’m unfortunately starting into depression again. It was about this time last year that I had troubles and if my BMD isn’t one thing it’s a cyclical punk ass (also it’s kind of a bitch).

I think maybe I got a little too comfortable because things were going so well. I mean I listed all the reasons for being positively optimistic in my life earlier and add on top of that that my book did great in the Abnormal Psych Class at Witt, I’m being reviewed by the NAMI Advocate soon and it should start to feel good to win. But instead I’m consumed by the thoughts of “what if” right now.

What if I can’t find a job? What if I can’t handle the pressures of the job? What if the past four years were what my life will be? What if I end up back on the farm?

I can’t live life like that, hell no one can, let alone someone with a rather severe case of a mood disorder (just not healthy you know). Maybe things were going a little too well for me and I needed to be brought back down to earth. Sometimes I get feeling so good I forget that there’s no cure but it always seems at about this time the Big D is there to remind me. Last year when I was fighting this I would try to divert my attention away from the BS and to focus on the positively optimistic things in my life; like maybe the cowboy boots and skirts tailgating in my near future.

                                                                                                                                                                                      

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 28

So I’m finishing up week eight of my internship (but they call me a grad assistant which helps with my ego a little) and I’m going to share with you what I've learned thus far. Actually I’m going to start to share with you what I know I shouldn't do in the “professional” world. It’s been a minute (or four years if you want to be a dick about it) since I've held a professional role so I’m a little rusty. Actually I’m down right terrible when it comes to appropriateness.

For example as many would probably know simply by being normal that probably talking about your lack of contraceptive use is inappropriate conversation with college students around. Or making a joke about the age of certain college students to coaches is more than likely a subject I should avoid in locker rooms.

There are a few more but there’s no need for me to give any more evidence of my behavior in case charges are brought up. I’m kidding, but seriously if anyone hears anything a heads up would be greatly appreciated. To be completely honest this whole role as a grad assistant isn’t working out quite as I would have liked (and yes I have been bitching about it a little bit, sorry for ruining lunch yesterday Mom). I think maybe I’ve been grossly inappropriately at times to help deal with the disappointment of not getting out what I was hoping with the intern-excuse me I mean grad assistantship.

No that’s a complete lie; I think I’m just an inappropriate guy at times.

But I have learned some things during these past eight weeks that I don’t think I would have if it wasn’t for my BMD and my third or fourth or fifth (I lost count) attempt to start over. Prior to my diagnosis I was so busy moving forward in my career I totally missed on what was all around me. I mean how in the hell else could you explain how I lived in the damn Rocky Mountains (powder bra powder) and never learned to ski? Or what about while living in Atlanta I never tried grits (ok that one isn’t as good as the first one but you get the point).

I was so concentrated on getting to the next step in life that I was missing out on actually living mine in a way. I think I have learned that lesson in the past couple months because despite my frustrations with paying Xavier University to run Wittenberg University’s concession stands I’m still enjoying my time back on campus. I’m only there for ten weeks and the old self absorbed me (I’m still a little bit though) would have rushed through my time trying to get my degree and move back to Atlanta to finally try grits (yet missing out on once again what was just right around me).

But actually I’ve got to meet some awesome people and even promote my book; the Abnormal Psychology class loved it (except for that little bitch in the back—I kid, I kid). I’m still working  on my patience with this BMD (that’s more than likely a lifelong battle) but I think I’ve learned to appreciate what’s around me a lot more. While I’m inappropriate probably more often than not I think I’m learning to embrace what’s going on around me more rather than focusing just on what’s coming next.

In a crazy way being manic has actually helped me slow down. Instead of rushing through my life trying to get to the next step to achieve whatever milestone “goal” I have I’ve slowed down and am meeting great new people, appreciating the little things more and enjoying being just part of it all. Not too bad of an internship after all I guess, I just need to hold on to it for two more weeks (no more bad sex jokes will probably help that effort).

                                                                                                                                                                                      

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol. 4 Issue 27

I know, I know you haven’t heard from me in a while but I swear I have a good reason for it. Well if  you asked my mom I’m not sure she’d be too thrilled with the reason but all of you but one aren’t my mom so I’ll go ahead and I’ll tell. Aside from feeling really good and not needing a platform to bitch on (yeah I’m talking to you stupid political memes filling my social media) I’ve been concentrating on my new book. One element of this book that Mom wasn’t too thrilled about was self-hypnosis.

Sure my story is going to be fictional (how’s this tag line: A psychotic adventure through a mysterious manic mind) but that doesn’t mean I want it to feel fake. That being the case I need to teach myself hypnosis, the only problem is all the literature I’ve found so far has read that people with mental health issues can’t be hypnotized; we’ll just see about all that now won’t we (I’ll be fine mother).

Speaking of my new book I spent the majority of the past few weeks trying to figure out how to give the reader the manic experience I’m shooting for. I really don’t blame anyone out there for this because if I were in their shoes and met a crazy person like me the first thing I’d want to know is what the episodes are like as well. Although it’s practically impossible for me to totally relate my psychosis to the average reader (mainly because I only remember a few hours of them) I’m trying to decipher ways of telling a story filled with mania to someone who’s never experienced it.

Sounds easy enough doesn’t it (then you go do it) but it’s turning out a little trickier than I first anticipated. I think I’m still in transition from the blog to the trilogy (that’s right I’m trying to ride that sales trend right now). See when I write this blog it’s coming directly from my life in some capacity and if two ideas or themes I want to write about don’t fit together then I can’t write about them. Now on the other hand I’m free to just make shit up; and it’s little bit different and a learning curve.

I’m trying to create the game within the game that I experience in my psychosis from page to page and book to book in the trilogy (did I mention it’s going to be the ever popular fan favorite trilogy yet?).  In order to do this though I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m to going to have to embrace the extremes that Stubby always warned me about in life. He preached a lot of different things growing up and some are useful today (like sit by the drink fountain at Hooters because all the waitresses have to stop there) and some not so useful (anything to do with farming when it came to me) but living in the grey and avoiding the extremes is one of the best.

However when my psychosis takes over that’s exactly opposite of where I live and in order to experience that extreme I’ll have to leave the grey area for insanity yet keep it comprehendible for the reader. Now calm down because I’m sure everyone is hyping the word insanity and being filled with stigma and stereotypes of people in mental institutions but that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s living within a world where the extremes are dynamic and insanity and sanity almost morph together in a believable fashion.

On an afterthought shame on you; I thought after three years of writing you’d be done of those stigmas and stereotypes. You’re really going to need to read my new book; don’t worry I’m working on it but it’s definitely why this post isn’t all that good.

                                                                                                                                                                                      

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,

d01roK

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 26

Cuzin Art to B Slim: “Yeah cousin Derek had a 100mg Bank roll, a 50mg soda, and a rather Tiger like Swisher Back Sweet today. He was definitely strug-a-ling for a while but I think he’s starting to pull it together now.”

Just on cue I stumbled back in the middle of the bar and then knocked off and spilled a completely full drink from the banister.

Cuzin Art in rebuttal to my move to B Slim: “Then again, maybe not.”

It was one of a number of embarrassing moments on my vacation to the Mountains but before I go any further that first story reminds me of a story from my spring break vacation during my 3^rd year in college I’d like to share. It was kind of a different spring break because we decided to all (except April) take a cruise rather than Panama City (good thing because I haven’t had the best experiences in that city). Well it was also a little different because every guy on the boat knew me from a night of buying round after round of Snake Bites for them (real straight move by me there).

So after a night of said Snake Bite slamming with the guys from C Deck I decided to attend the karaoke/dance party in the main ballroom/banquet hall/whatever the hell they need space for 500 people for. Something real fresh was playing when I entered the dance floor and started busting my moves. (Sidenote: my friends said the whole ballroom knew I was quite intoxicated because of said dance moves). It was the early 2000’s so I was attempting to probably C-Walk my way across the floor (not successfully) when I slipped and dropped my glass of Vodka and 7 and it shattered across the floor.

Right on cue the music stops with a scratch like in the movies, they turn on the house lights and point the spot light on me when the DJ announces over the PA:

“That’s why we don’t bring glass onto the dance floor.”

Without missing a beat my stand up roommate, the second coming of Robert Downey Jr., points at me and yells:

“Boo this man! Boo this man! Booooooooo!”

As I walk off in shame out of the spotlight I’m serenaded with heckling and boos erupting from the entire ballroom crowd. (For the record that was the first and only time I’ve been booed off a dance floor—or at least that I can remember).

While that vacation at sea was fun the week in Denver was a rather good time as well and that’s probably because it started out with Cuzin Art being sucked (excuse me, falling) out of the raft during our trip through the beginner rapids. I don’t care what he tries to tell you there was no river sucking going on and it was definitely the third and still beginning rapid (that’s what you get for shoving my head under the raft; oh that and gonorrhea from swallowing the river water. I guess you’ll now only get to share that curry ice cream with your hand feeder—OK the inside jokes have gone far enough).  

Now that’s not to say that the southern belles still don’t have massive control over me though either but those crunchy wookies are starting to grow on me. The best part of my trip (other than Cuzin Art being the only one to fall into the rapids) was that the entire time I was gone my BMD was just fine. I was a little nervous because I haven’t been really in the cities since my last issues in the Windy City and didn’t know how I’d react. But I didn’t have any problems while I was there and actually was feeling better. That’s good to know because I’m hoping to get back to the city soon, which city is yet to be determined but definitely a city that doesn’t suck (yeah Pittsburgh I’m talking to you; Who Dey is right around the corner!)..

                                                                                                                                                                                      

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,

d01roK