5 March 2017

 I went wandering down some old paths, and I got lost in the new growths...?

9Jack Edward Martin, Danielle Nobles and 7 others

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• Jody Bean

  I picked up some former hobbies, but in doing so, I've reduced my involvement in the recovery community. I feel stuck in this limbo, where I'm losing touch with old new friends, and have not made good connections with new new friends?

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  •  · 4y
• Jody Bean

  I seem to remember my natal chart claimed that my life would play out like this: a series of disconnected chapters....

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  •  · 4y
• Jody Bean

  and the pessimist in me is thinking, "No one reads what you're writing any more, so why do you even bother?"

  

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  •  · 4y
• Shawn Bean

  I'll challenge that last statement. I've seen plenty of folks comment on what you write; they've got to read it before they can comment on it.

  The only value in astrology lies in whatever extent it can help us to know more of ourselves. Its "theoretical basis" is absolute bunk; *I* have a greater gravitational influence on you than Mars does (run the numbers, and remember that gravity decreases with the square of the distance). The constellations say more about our pattern recognition capabilities than they do about our personalities. It can still be a useful tool in meditation, but it's a focus, an inspiration. "The stars foretell but they do not compel." Your life plays out as a series of disconnected chapters because that's what *you* see. Other people see things differently. Ask them; I bet you'll be surprised at what they'll tell you.

  Losing touch? Well, I can immediately see three easy answers to that: either get back in touch with some old friends again, or go out and meet some new folks, or just accept that maybe you need a little solitary time, right now. All three answers require a bit of courage, I admit, but none of them require more courage than you've got.

5 March 2018

 that feeling when...

i look upon my life, and i find it empty and wanting - and i question if it's all trivial consumerism...?

also, are my attempts to be "polite and respectful" more self-sabotage, preventing me from clearly expressing my dreams and desires? What rabbit was I chasing, or did I just get stuck in a hole?

Tricky levels of paranoia at play, reinforced when people try to tell me, "You're living life wrong..." because they fear the pain they see in my future..

I write this, knowing, from past posts, that it won't be... beneficial...?

My head takes in the garbage that it swims in, and it creates a model of trashy life. I attempt to be cosmopolitan, yet i am a straw man, with no infrastructure.

I woul study in sclusion, the phrsical world - the beautiful patterns all around us. Yet, fear again - will that put food on the table, and a roof to sleep in? fear again, that the peace corps is just a phatasm, blocked by the hard reality of medication.

I do not want to dwell on problems, yet their study might unveil so much more beyond me - no cut-and-dry single solutions. perhaps a crazily complex system...

and yet...simple solutions keep being shoved under my nose...

5 March 2020

 Why do I want company?

...and, if that's a true question, why do I not seek company?

For the first, I think it really boils down to having some sort of interactions with another living being. If for no other reason, because I can't always predict their actions and reactions and I might just be exposed to new and novel concepts.

Yet, for the second, I'm afraid of "being a nuisance", "being a harasser", or just "being inconvenient". ...or even, "being dependent". At the core of all that is this desire not to disturb another, this desire to maintain peace... and, perhaps, there's a little bit of fear of being manipulated or used by another (or being perceived as such) - all sorts of concepts swirling around current society that spin off from "do no harm"

I think to myself that I'm minimizing my harm(s), yet still expressing myself, by posting to Facebook... but so often, the conversations have gone squirrelly, that I'm starting to backtrack even on that idea. Perhaps I just can't see how the expressions (or their repetition, ad infinitum) are eroding away at peoples' perceptions of who I am.

I don't know. Yes, I do think too much. I have lots and lots and lots of thoughts that start perculating out, if I'm allowed to speak, freely (especially allowed, by myself)... Fortunately (or not), I tend to not speak my mind in most situations - I tend to find myself listening politely... at least, that is how I'm reflecting on my past conversations.

I believe that people are trustworthy, until they aren't. Yet, with some topics, there's a lot of evidence in the past that people might harm someone, if the topic is brought up. It could be shaming, or it could be emotional abuse, or it could be physical violence.

It would be nice if everyone loved their neighbor as they loved themselves. Yet, there's a lot of pressure out there to fear our neighbors, instead. I'm just as guilty of succumbing to fear as the next person. If I face the fear, or even act against the fear, it is entirely conceivable that I get hurt or die; but my death would not severely disrupt the universe. (morbid reflection, I guess) In the big scheme of things, I don't think it matters if there's a possibility of pain; some times, we have to swallow some humiliation or loss in order to be helpful to the world.

this is spinning out a bit. i still really want more company in my present life, yet I still don't want to be seen as a nuisance.

5 March 2020

 My mood has been deteriorating, this week.

My mind is trying to magnify my faults and minimize my strengths. Then it turns that behavior onto the world.

Finding faults everywhere, I place myself in full flight mode. I lack the confidence to fight, because I found so many faults with myself.

Yet, I’m scared that I won’t try to flee in a healthy manner and that I won’t try to retreat to a “safe” position. I’ll lash out to drive people away. I’ll abandon my healthy commitments like I’m tossing out the baby with the bath water; because It’s like I’m managing my life with a flamethrower — burning it down to a level where I feel no anxiety. Yet, with each new retreat, with each new scorched earth, I still believe there are internal and external faults to be found in the ashes...

How far do I have to burn out before I feel comfortable again?

4 March 2018

 Am I enabled by the action or inaction of others? Do I need tough love... domination... some sort of discipline?

I do not know.

Is there one path, or many, to the mountaintop?

I'm very tired today. I grow weary. ...and I shiver alone, in the darkness, still questioning, "Who's to say that your liffe strategies are perfect? Who's to say that you see my life perfectly?"

I have second thoughts about posting this. I feel "vulnerability posts" (if that's even what this is) are branded as weak and petulent, leading to others unfriending and deriding.

I could journal it to myself, but then I would only have myself for feedback. Yet, honestly? Some times the feedback I get still hurts.

Some times, people brand me, "Eeyore - always complaining"

I am grateful for my friends, for my sobriety. Yet, I also question their judgements...?

Brain is fairly shut down. time to attempt sleep.

4 March 2019

 Some days, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the buses are on the time, and I have dollars in my wallet... great, wonderful days, without a care in the world...

...and then days twist and turn, like today, leaving me wondering if I've been damned to a perpetual living hell, of mundane pain and few, if any, pleasures. Wondering if I did not survive the suicide attempt, that I'm now forced to trudge through my invisible existence, constantly envious and hungry, like Buddhism's hungry ghosts...

...where constant, low-level irritations crawl through my flesh while time falls away like the ocean waves; all leaving me drowning in crocodile tears.

At which point, I hope a long, hot shower can help wash away this sickness, these itches unrelieved by my little scratches...

4 March 2019

 Part of me feels that it's futile to complain, here...

...while another part thinks it's the best place to leave the complaints.

---------

I despair, this morning, that I have no rewards left in my life... no one to come home to... no entertainments to distract my mind... nothing but hunger and itching skin. Thoughts of suicide creep in, nipping at my heels - telling me to seek an end to my ills. Do I have the resolve to post about all this, yet again? (I guess so...) Do I have the stupid resolve to follow through on my life's end? (I hope not...)

I hold out hope for hope, for peace to come to me... yet those flames flicker ever lower, and I begin to wax maudlin melodramatic.

The exhaustion devours my soul, leaving me cold and lifeless - just going through the motions with no emotions.

Some things could be left unsaid. Would that make it better?

4 March 2019

 So, trying to turn this around:

My mind wants to scream, "Nobody fucking cares about "Mr. Bean"... you might laugh at my antics, you might weather my lectures, but nobody goes out of their way to check up on me... to just call and say, 'how are you? haven't seen you in a while... would you like to come visit?"

First, it's unfair to broaden it out to "nobody', bordering on becoming an all or nothing statement, which very rarely, if ever, is a true statement. Some, perhaps.. A few, maybe.. but to go all the way to nobody is unfair.

Second, basing this all on a small window of time is unfair, too. We can not be expected to be in constant communication with everyone, 24/7. Even Facebook does not guarantee that level of connection.

Third, it's doubtful that I would respond immediately to either phone calls or visits, as they happen so rarely that I'm not sure I'm prepared for working them into my schedule.

Fourth, people will cite reciprocation laws at me, saying you get back what you put out into the world. So, because I don't try to see your band, or swing by your house, or call you on the phone, or go to your favorite AA meeting, then why should you be expected to "intersect with my life activities". I know I could do better at reaching out to y'all, to try to interact enough with you in order to see you as more than acquaintances... I could also claim that I have introverted tendencies, and that social inclusion is not a driving force in my behavior. (I typically eat out on my own, stay to myself at home, etc etc... and I almost never approach anyone from a dating angle)

So, I could call out to several people who are on my mind right now (dana b, roxanne g, jack m, my dad, etc etc) - but I'm more than likely NOT going to do so, because I feel that phone calls are fairly intrusive if done cold. I do not want to get into online chats... basically, even though I feel fairly rough, right now, it's not reached the point where I NEED to call out. Besides, if it was a true desperation call, I'd probably use 472-HELP instead, as those folks are supposed to be trained professionals, right? Or, just schedule time(s) with therapist, like everyone does (because no one has the time or inclination to listen to each other, any more)...

I guess people could cite the crying wolf, too; that all this just seems to rehash prior thoughts, to be obsessing on a theme, to be nothing new.

I am not entirely sure what all the factors are that are twisting me up on this. Maybe I feel like the canary in the coal mine, chirping loudly about how people used to make time to talk with each other (not call, not text)... and pointing at all the mental illness that is increased by our "digital age of mass communications"

my prediction is that this post will be treated as yet another text wall that most people will skip past. it might draw out a troll or two. i do not know if anyone can relate with my frustrations - I do not know if my frustrations are even clear, yet...

"Oh, the Horrors Approaching!" (4 March 2020)

 My fears are creating a future full of pain and poverty...

...and I’m supposed to be walking towards it with high expectations?!?

———/—/——

It feels like cosmic horror, or star-crossed, fated horror - as if there are no actions that I can take that would change the course of the planet. When I consider myself as 1 versus 7 billion or more, or when I consider the quickening pace of humanity’s destructive behavior...

3 March 2014

 I am thinking aloud...

The persona I present when creating my personal status updates is different from the persona that appears when sharing various memes, and both of those are different from who you'll see, in casual conversation...

If I were to theorize, I suspect it's because I'm "thinking along different pathways" when engaged in these different scenarios. I.e., writing status updates, I become quite a bit more self-critical, while, sharing memes, I try to be more upbeat, positive, educational...

As I don't always remember the originating and/or sharing page that brings a meme to my feed, I have to wonder if others disassociate what I'm sharing with who I am and what I believe. Or, are there stronger associations made between my status updates and me? (I've heard that "you mope in your status updates", which makes me scratch my head - I really don't think that the majority of what I share here is "moping"..)

I say all of that, but I also have to catch myself, for I have seen some of my conversations with friends begin to rehash old topics, previously discussed. I bet part of that is fueled by uncertainty on what to say...

More later..?

3Donnie Dye, Summer Harris and 1 other

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2 March 2020

 Today.

I saw this poem posted by

Siouxsie

, where the poet was reciting her struggles with depression.

"Why is spoken word always delivered in an angry voice?"

'...because the poets have such short phrases to work with, and they want to make an impact...?'

(me, talking to myself, right this moment)

I had sat through an agonizing online tutoring session, because the student was sharing so little of what they had, as resources. Was it the student's fault? Was it the online tutoring platform's fault? Was it my fault - I mean, I tried to provide advance notice that I needed some sort of background material!

In any case, that had left me sore and discouraged, because it felt like such an unsuccessful tutoring session.

So, I set off to play board games at Tribe. My bag was heavy with the two bottles of tea, and, en route, I remembered the Long John Silver's had all you can eat fish on Sunday. I detoured, and devoured two full plates..

and decided, with the chill in the air, and the stomach full, it may be best to head home, to sleep it off. Sitting at the bus stop, I read the poem about depression.

I got home, and napped, with the intent of waking to head out to the 5:30 AA meeting. When the alarm went off, though, my mind was saying, "OH, that was a beautiful nap! Let's have another. So, I did - AA meeting tabled...

I tutored another student, who was digging for answers on her quiz... and who ended the session, when I tried to get her to do the work... anger and daggers shooting from my brain.

fast forward because i'm sleepy again.. I did have a good session, near the end of the night - tutoring stats

Still... there's this craving for company, this desire to be around people more.... Trying to handle everything on my own, year in and year out, wears away at my mind. Everyone becomes but strangers, and eventually... i break.

i stop thinking about food, shelter, job.... i just curl up in bed, feeling so unsupported, so lost, so useless...

I want to lay down my pack, and rest for a bit; but I'm still stuck in a strange sort of desert. i try to get attention, because i feel like i'm drowning in quicksand.

...if my light were to go out, i question how many weeks would pass before anyone would notice? maybe my job would be concerned, but i do not have faith that anyone else would.

but, now, I'm just trying to write for effect. i want to howl at the moon, in the hopes that some pack will eventually find me.

2 March 2020

 I was at Cici’s, having their pizza buffet, about 10 minutes ago. I could have been at BAMP’s weekly meeting, or even the noon AA at cherry creek, but I woke up too late, today.

About 5 minutes ago, I was reading

Shawn Wright

’s post about watching people sink into addiction.

Now, I’m listening to one of the Austin pan-handling drunks, yelling to the streets, “I need one penny! I need one penny!” I don’t have even that, to give him... and I strongly suspect he wants another drink, not bus fare.

Here’s the personal confession: I was contemplating the idea of abandoning AA and recovery, while at Cici’s. The justifications in my head were like, “no one interacts with me in recovery”, “I keep seeing differences between alcoholics’ reasons for drinking and mine”, and “I think my drinking friends would appreciate me more if I drank”.

That’s not totally true.

I want to abandon the recovery community because I feel invisible, there. But I don’t really want to waste a lot of money on drugs and alcohol. I don’t see much point in using substances... but it’s really hard to see much reward in staying active in the recovery communities, too - it feels so foreign and unwelcoming. (I say that, but it’s not 100% true, either)

Actually, I see an echo in my posts for the past few years:

“I don’t see much point in continuing to live.”

...but that’s probably rooted in dialogues about living in poverty, and feeling so unattractive...

1 March 2020

 I am not fond of talking with myself.

Perhaps this is why I worked so long in retail, instead of research. Or, perhaps it is why I would rather tutor than teach, or do either, instead of research.

Do I doubt myself? Ironically, I would say, "I do not know"... Do I doubt my senses? Much less than my inner thoughts....

it would be nice to swap stories, compare theories, or just simply play on words with others - and yet, there's such a tug of war that goes on there, deciding who gets to be in the spotlight.

1 March 2021

 I despise the gender role that I've been cast into - the expectations about my behavior that I may or may not follow up on, and the lack of propagation of healthy alternatives to those expectations because everyone thinks "that's just what guys do"...

Couple that up with my race, my age, my income level... -

I just want to throw my hands up to the sky and yell, "How did our lives get to be this dysfunctional?!"