Work Work, Spirit Guide, Work Work

When life gets simple

I come up with not only scientific explanations,

A scientist,

But with formulaic patterns,

Not a mathematician,

To explain why

Why why

It is like this

Why it has become like this

Why it will stay like this

In my estimate

In my prediction

The marker is elsewhere

In spacetime

But now it is here

Immediately

As your eyes follow

So why not your heart?

And look

How much exercise

Passion

And love you really express?

Why would you doubt yourself?

I grieve for you

Who are sad

Who are narrow

At the bridge

Like me

We together shall make it

Trust me

Like I trust you

We are stronger than this

Stranger

Come with me

To the end of time

To defeat whatever mentality plagues us

The “it’s not real” of your world

The one of mine

Only misguide us

The science will do its job

Let it

But as for us

We are spiritual souls

So we should do ours, too

My Hairy Beast in the Rear View Mirror

I realized I may actually have the ability to put into words how I have been feeling the last six years, with more memory drawn from recent history (post-intense psychosis). So, here is a poem about my current (and improving) state of mind (I’m not including the improvement part because that is recent and when I resolved to write this poem I hadn’t yet improved, it was very recent, the improvement):

 

The black hairy thing in my mirror

I can hardly see it

It hurts me

Just being there

Sometimes it grabs me

And I feel pain

Maybe it’s a hug of love

I don’t know

It and I don’t talk

If it’s talking, I am so out of it that I can’t hear its words

In this alternate universe

In thought space

Where I am supposed to exist

In love, with this black hairy thing

I am the smallest trace of conscious

I hardly exist at all

My senses are so numb and dumbed down that

I can’t see, hear, taste anything at all

I should be interacting with the hairy beast

And loving every moment of it

But it hurts me

And knowing it’s there

And not knowing what it is

Subatomic particles conveying forces and fields are exchanged

Between me and it

Just like physics

And it makes me tense

And there is gravity in this space

I see that

But that’s about it

The truth is,

I’m addicted to work

It’s so bad, so bad, for me

But I can’t get enough

Of the stress

I’m never stressed

I’m just anxious

Of the hype

Nothing is hyped

Everything is dull and unrewarding

My efforts go into a black box

Never to be seen again

The black, hairy best

Feared, by me

Loving me (probably?)

Almost making contact with me

I’m just noticing it

And I need not be afraid

But that’s just my body’s reaction

I can’t control that

I can’t control it

It’s its own beast

So let me reiterate:

There’s a thing

It’s in my rear-view mirror

And it causes me pain

But I have deduced, logically, that it loves me

And I could still be wrong

Because I have so little information

Because my senses, in thought space, where this beast exists, are numb

So

So

And so.

I just want you to know,

I’m on my way

To knowing the monster behind me

It is supernatural

It is always there

It is anxiety

No comment on psychosis

How that intertwines and relates is beyond me

But the edge

I’ve got it figured out

I’m so smart

For figuring this out with so little information, sensorily

Because, because it is such a big deal to me

I have put so much effort into acknowledging this thing

That is always there


I think I’m done.

As a final note, my SSRI is kicking in, and I feel like I’m dreaming, and it feels nice, to be able to relax for once. It really takes the edge off. It’s only one week in so the effects should get even more pronounced for two more weeks. I’m gonna stay on this minimum dose for now. It might just be enough to push me over the edge… literally, over the edge, out of the edge, into a pit of fluffy pillows.

Request for help dealing with suicidal brother

My brother is suicidal and I don’t know what to do to help. He locks himself in his room all day on the weekends and in the evenings, and he’s struggling at work. He’s probably going to be fired and then freak out and kill himself. We don’t want that to happen. We the family.

I really need your guys’ help now. What do I say to my brother to ease his pain? I am so at a loss for words and he gets angry so easily and rejects all affection that it’s impossible to help him. I really need help right now. I don’t want him to kill himself.

I wish I knew what to say. But I’m talking more. Now. Now that it’s better. It will continue. I know. There isn’t things. There are off-limits still. I’m not free yet. We’ll see.

Psychotic trip update

Well, there’s someone behind all this and there’s tons of aggression being directed toward me again. It’s all a bad trip, I know what a bad trip is like, and I am bad tripping. It doesn’t seem linked to anything I have ingested. I think I just have schizoaffective disorder.

Visions, seeing things with my inner eye. Real things jump out at me, things that aren’t alive appear alive. There were eyes and ears everywhere a second ago, and my family is always spying on me. I don’t know how it’s connected. I don’t know who’s behind all this. All the objects in the house. I don’t understand the behavior of my family. And out, with my brother and mother, everyone was starting violent fights with me not by doing anything but just the way they were acting. I don’t know why or how they are so powerful that they can just start fights from across the street with a stranger. Unless everyone knows me somehow, from somewhere. I don’t know how everyone could know me.

I can’t really settle down. And I’m being forced to move my body a certain way. Forced moves. Some sort of game I guess. Except I never chose to play. Visions again, inner eye. Seeing family behaving disturbingly.

I increased my antipsychotic today. Psychiatrist says it takes a few days for effects to start kicking in. I don’t trust that guy. What if the medication’s doped? What if the whole system is just making it worse?

Anyway I’ve got my hands full. I don’t know how I’m supposed to work like this on Monday.

Vape vape vape. Two beers.  Cheers. One for you and one for me.

Psychiatry Update

I’m so lost. I don’t like things that I should–not according to social pressure or any external force at all, just according to my inner spirit. I should like things, but I don’t.

Antipsychotics are global dopamine suppressants. Dopamine is a reward neurotransmitter. So, no surprises there. Funny thing is, the psychiatrist never mentioned that this would be a side-effect. I don’t really trust that guy. He says once my psychosis goes down from the kratom withdrawal and getting it out of my system / detox, for a few weeks if I’m good without psychosis (paranoia, negative energy spikes, social anxiety), we can decrease the antipsychotic and that should alleviate the anhedonia and restlessness. Implicitly, at least, he is admitting to that side effect. Anhedonia. But I have started feeling some pleasure lately. Bits and pieces. Very brief pulses of it. So that’s his plan. If all goes according to plan, it’s a great plan. But we’ll see if the psychosis (I keep using that word even though its implicitly more intense of a word than my symptoms–maybe I should be saying “mild psychosis” or “tiny psychosis” (doesn’t that sound funny, “tiny psychosis” har har)) cooperates. I still get flashes of like people are hurting me, with like psychic energy or whatever. Who knows. And panic overhearing conversations. So we’ll see if it indeed subsides, ala the hypothesis that kratom was exacerbating it. Exacerbation.

Do I have more to say?

No.

 

I keep using the word neuropathic pain to describe the pain I feel from spikes of people, inside me. But it’s not nerve damage, it’s a brain imbalance. So technically the word doesn’t apply. But “neuro” should include the brain, so I feel that it does apply. I don’t want to confuse or offend anyone who does have peripheral nerve damage and true neuropathy, so maybe I shouldn’t use that word. I’m not sure. Kind of at a crossroads here, and have been for a long time.

Oh well. *post tagged*

Drafted 3 hours ago, withheld due to self-consciousness, posting now:

Well, I’m still here doing nothing. Now that every day isn’t a waking nightmare, I have the cognitive capacity to ponder on my uselessness as a temporary non-employee of my company and how I “pace” back and forth up and down the stairs to the garden to vape and back for a few minutes of Twitch or Pinterest or frenetically checking my e-mail for shreds of hope for contact with the outside world for whatever miraculous reason.

 

Okay I’m pretty sure that was a runon sentence.

 

I wish I could be more open on here but I’ve had some bad experiences (no one did anything bad to me) where I was too open and then I regretted it self-consciously.

 

Here is what I want to be open about: The pharmacist at the pickup booth said alcohol is fine with clonazepam, as long as it’s not at the same time cuz it makes you drowsy. I don’t know whether that is an accurate statement and if my mom knew she would freak out. She “doesn’t want to take me to the hospital” would be her exact words. But two glasses is making me feel much better, and it’s a world of an improvement over the bottle a day I was doing how long ago was it now, a month ago?

So much decaf. Maybe ten or so cups of decaf a day. The only other thing that gives me brief respite and a sigh of relief. I don’t know why. I can’t do this when I go back to work. The plan is I will be occupied with–guess what?–work. So I won’t be focused on my nicotine addiction or my withdrawal symptoms or the  cravings for decaf. Decaf, the substitute for the caffeinated coffee I was drinking five cups a day for a week or so only half a week ago or so.

All these things to keep track of. I don’t know. Would you call me clean? A nicotine addiction, withdrawal symptoms, lingering kratom usage (my psychiatrist doesn’t know (that’s the other thing I wanted to be open about, so I guess voila)) that my mother encouraged me to keep with in favor of tapering to avoid withdrawal symptoms. I think the waking nightmares I had for a while were probably kratom withdrawal. It’s like an opiate, so it deals with dreams, so waking nightmares sounds logically like it could be a withdrawal symptom. FYI I was on a very high dose, very frequent usage. Normal people don’t use it like I did, so don’t go and say kratom is a deadly drug that should be banned now. Don’t do that. I’m sure it helps people with chronic pain and is used responsibly by many with little to no side-effects, like coffee. So yeah. Just a shoutout there. Apparently shoutout is two words. Oh well.

Man I really badly wish I could read. Or even sit still for more than five minutes at a time. Do I have ADD? I feel like I have so many conditions that I haven’t been diagnosed with. The schizoaffective disorder covers the low mood and psychosis that until recently I was plagued by, but the ADD and generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) were not diagnosed. I think modern medicine is still pretty rudimentary in execution. They don’t ask enough questions. Granted, I’ve only had three psychiatrists, and one of those for a very brief duration. But it seems none of them asked enough questions. The first one was pretty good, actually. But I lost him when I graduated and my school health insurance plan was no more. Or was it with Kaiser? I don’t remember. Or Sutter, through the family plan? Well anyway I’m on my work’s insurance now, draining away their money and siphoning it to the medical complex. I’m sure some accountant somewhere is like, Shit, look at this guy; he’s expensive for the company.

Speaking of the company, i would really like to diversify my skillset when I return to be more marketable as an employee in the rare event of a layoff. At the very least becoming familiar and comfortable with ELISAs would be great. And more experience with the chromatography is always good. DNA stuff I  probably won’t have a business need to learn at my company, but it is such marketable stuff. qPCR and high throughput sequencing are in. It’s so hard to get trained for what you need to get trained. All the positions expect you to be trained in things. Where do you go to get trained in them? The system is utterly broke. The whole employment thing is shit. It’s like, even outside pharma/biotech, they expect you to be trained–and where does this training come from? I don’t get it. I go on linkedin and literally there’s no intro positions for like computer programmers or pharma people. It sucks.

Watching stupid LoL a streamer on Twitch now. She’s some cute plucky funny-voiced Australian girl. Kind of a funny combination. Plays support a lot. I never liked LoL but in my younger days I would have. My younger days I played Populous: The Beginning (i.e. Pop III) online. That was pretty neat. I don’t remember if I enjoyed it or I just did it out of routine. I wouldn’t have called it an addiction. But you know how you play computer games? Do you actually enjoy it? Maybe it was just so long ago that I just don’t remember. I think it must have been fun. The multiplayer aspect was pretty cool. It was a really well-executed game, programming-wise. I think independent servers are still up, in case you want to give it a try. Not sure if the game is cracked or open-source or what have you now. Or rather, free-to-play.

 

 

Medical Update

Day three of 0.75 mg clonazepam/day. Feeling really really mellow. Still having difficulty approaching productive tasks (programming for the computer game, leisure reading (novels), gardening) and resort to checking e-mail–checking WP–scrolling on pinterest–going outside to vape–rinselatherrepeat.

I wonder if my life is always going to be this sort of prison. Where I can’t do anything enriching.

Shallow affect. The poems I write on here do not please me, do not make me feel fulfilled. That could be negative symptoms from the schizoaffective disorder, or it could be something else.

I think the restlessness is better, though.


Edit:

Basically I feel like my life is a piece of shit nothing. I wonder if I will be able to handle work again.

Hobbies Update

Hi guys. I’ve been more productive lately. My psychiatrist says it’s because I was on such a high dose of kratom, and it takes a while after stopping for the brain to re-equilibrate. Anyway I’m not sure if I believe it’s entirely the cause of my psychiatric condition(s), but I do believe it played a part. There’s trace psychosis (paranoia every now and then, hearing my family’s thoughts correlated with panic), generalized anxiety (restless, can’t settle down, hard to focus, pacing around a lot), and social anxiety (self-explanatory), but it’s all gotten better. I’ve been on this psych med for I don’t know how long, like a year now, but the dose was increased to what it’s at only maybe half a year to a few months ago. (I hope my psychiatrist keeps better track of these things than I do!–he should, given he works for Kaiser). Where was I… what was I going to say… I guess the point is I’m being more productive and focused. Still not the good ol’ college days (I was an academic and lifestyle beast), but who knows where it will go someday.

Today, I uploaded photographs from a hike with my family to a nearby regional trail to Google photos and shared the album with them. I also selected the artsier photos (we tried out a new telephoto lens that the Amazon dealer didn’t replace–the original was defective–until their management stepped in, which itself didn’t happen until like a year after I bought the thing because I hadn’t tried the telephoto lens until then!) to upload to our online gallery, which has a store where you can buy all neat stuff, like prints, business cards, framed art, postcards. And I uploaded them. I didn’t just select them, I also uploaded them. Yes. Ahem. And then I got inspired and took the macro lens and shot all’a bunch’a thu’ stuff around the house and in the backyard garden (I like to think of the backyard as a garden) and it all turned out really well! I uploaded some raw to our portfolio, and others I digitally touched up (increased brightness and contrast, in general, and added color warmth in some cases) and then uploaded. We must have like fifty photos on there by now! I hope we get some business ever. I have no clue how anyone finds anything on the internet with so many starving artists competing against one another, (I’m assuming) without knowledge of market principles or economics or any of that, or at least not a specialty in it. Some do, but I guess those are the successful ones. Probably takes a mix of business talent and art talent to be a successful commercialized artist.

So I uploaded photos. The digital touchups I was hoping would be more rewarding, as an activity, but it was actually fairly rote. Bleh/wah-wah. Oh well~

Then I read some computer science programming principles from this Unity textbook I got (or rather, my brother got for me, per my request, using his Amazon Prime account), in preparation/study for continuing on this computer game I’m working on with my mother. It’s a narrative story, I can’t say what it’s about because that might ruin the surprise and my anonymity, but it’s kind of more for children or the adults who are children at heart, and it will be very warming! We already have some of the story planned out, including dialogue and events and setting. I’ve decided the next step for me is to work on the conversation and narration system. That includes U.I. scripting as well as writing down the damned text into the code editor! I’m very lazy about it, but I creep up on the task every now and then. So like I said, today I read some of the programming textbook and it was a fairly abstract section about delegates, subsection of object interaction systems. Abstract, see? But I like it and I’ll probably re-read it to get a better grasp on it.

Then I visited my $100 stock portfolio on Robinhood (commission-free website, everyone! super legit! Also, if I’m not mistaken, Australian-based) and mostly I am a long investor, but I did some more research on my holdings (largely pharma, some auxiliary medical and also photovoltaics (that means solar panels / solar energy)), including reading a few articles on Seeking Alpha, which seems like a really popular investing news and analysis website… that I actually like. Not that I don’t like most. I actually prefer reading investment news to novels (which is sad but true, and I wish it weren’t so because novels can be so rewarding when you get into them). I want to buy a share of Isreali-based generics manufacturer Teva because I think generics are a good cause (who doesn’t want cheap, effective medication to treat illness!) and will be around for a while. And I can afford it, if I sell off some of my other holdings, because their stock is around 20 buck. I only have like 6 buying power now, so I sold a few things, the orders will execute tomorrow open of market, but that still will put me short. Not short as in short selling, just as in not enough cash to buy a share. So I’ll have to let go of some other things once they rebound a little. Some of my pharma stocks are down such large percentage! God, those pennies! This involved some math and a calculator. Anyway.

And of course nonstop vaping, which is a bad habit and possibly bad for my lungs as I do it incorrectly. You’re supposed to do it like a cigar–just in your mouth, then out. But it’s a leftover tendency from cigarette smoking, and it will be hard to change. To boot, when I hold in my mouth I immediately want to inhale oxygen out of nature, so I go through the nose, and some vape goes in my lungs then anyway so I don’t see how it’s any better unless I really train myself to be a pro. Like I guess mouth control or holding my breath after drawing or something like that.

So just a little life update. Ah, I miss blogging, too, can I say! How are you all doing? Been in a bit of a poetry slump lately so I apologize for that. The submissions craze is over for me–submitted to like 20 mags within the span of a month. Lots of simultaneous submissions but I’d estimate the set covered up to thirty different poems. A little higher quality stuff than what I post on here (sorry, audience!). But I’m sure I’ll get back into it and start posting on here again soon. Real sure. Yeah. Like science. Scientifically certain. (Not.)

Ending. Ending ending ending. Ending paragraph. I’m going to the gym with my brother soon and we might play cards once we get home. I drink too much coffee, but not an obsequious amount. The use of “obsequious” actually doesn’t make sense there but it sounds so good I just had to say it.

Okay that’s it for now. Thanks for listening, those of you who did. And to those who just skim/scan/skip: I don’t blame you.

Ta~


Edit: I just counted and we have exactly 82 photos in our portfolio excluding those submitted to magazines (those require previously unpublished)!

Rough Around the Edges

I got some very interesting follows/likes recently. Just now.

The first:

A nuclear electronics physicist from Italy. See Randieri.com. Page may require translation (try Google Chrome).

The second:

A blog that publishes free “PLR” articles. Don’t know what those are? Turns out it means dieting, and food, and eating stuff. Like how to eat healthy. I was not aware of that acronym, and I still don’t know what it means.

So I guess this must mean I am “getting around”? In the blogosphere. I’ve had some other interesting one’s in the past, like marketing guys or business gurus or some such. It’s kind of funny to see them liking poems on a poetry blog. It seems so… nontraditional.

I have this dream of blogging just like I used to. Simple story-like updates about my life. But for some reason all the ideas and stories vanish when I sit down at the keyboard.

Ok so a change of topic:

I have this thing where people’s auras/spirits harass me. Really hustle, poke around like a farm animal. It’s called “not minding one’s own business”. Now. The real zinger: Is it real? So, yes, to me it is. BUT. Objectively? Who knows. It really feels like no one can frikkin leave me alone though. I do so much better alone. My dad was the key player this morning, as I sit here writing his aura just sort of oozes upstairs (he’s on the computer on the sofa downstairs) and exerts this awful pressure on me. Instantly turns a normal situation into a fight. Reminds me of Mara’s blog post with the kid’s not minding their own business. Side note: I wish I could write simple life story blog entries like here. Not for the following (though I guess… that would be nice? Would it? I don’t really know), so much as to feel like I’m pleasing an audience, as well as myself.

So yes. Auras harass me. It’s happened on here, too, with some of my followers absolutely tormenting me in the sanctity of my own home, even when I’m not on wp.com, even when I’m not on the computer. I’m not sure how it’s done, and I see why I’m on medication, but it just seems like nothing can stop it.

So I guess you’re supposed to put up pictures in blog entries. So here:

_MG_2203

The mess that is the mini-garden in the tiny corridor of a backyard that is itself a garden. A garden (mess) within a garden. See planter in back, pots and cups for plants and water in tray in front. There’s chopsticks offscreen in one of the cups, I don’t really know what they’re for but they’re there. Planter, from left to right, is: pansies, unknown herb, mint.

I’m not sure that was how you’re supposed to insert a photo into a blog entry but oh well.

It would be really nice if I could just smoke with my electronic cigarette, drink coffee and booze, and be left alone. But this aura thing. What a mess. And I have to go back to work in two weeks but can’t because my illness is just a wreck. I went to play tennis and had a psychotic episode, not in behavior–I was very cool-headed on the outside–but on the inside, people were these monsters in between the frames of reality harassing and abusing me. Harrowing. I don’t know how I put up with this. But it’s like, what can you do? The only thing that comes to mind is talking to someone, or starting a physical fight. The latter is surely out of the question (law and morality and such). And the former, how would that go?

“Hi, you’re actually a monster in the in-between frames of my reality so I was hoping you could stop being nasty yelling at me and giving me this soul-crushing pain. I have a mental illness so I don’t expect you to own up to what you’re doing.”

See? It’s an accusation. It’s the only way to go about it, but no one’s ever going to admit to wrong doing against a mentally ill person. That’s just how the world works.

*puff*

Well I guess it’s time for breakfast soon. My brother is making it. I’ll also have some leftover potstickers. Do I eat a lot? Well I’ve started going to the gym. My brother says it should help with the mental illness. Also I guess gardening is “soothing” (not really). Oh well.