The Mind Of An Introvert In Consensual, Non-Consensual, Social Isolation – Day The Monday

Monday, right?

I am pretty sure it is Monday because I had to wake the Elder Duck up so he could do the remote school thing and be the smart one in the family and go on to do great things, most likely in Astrophysics, at least that is the interest at the moment. I am so proud of him. All AP classes next year, that is including the extra one he actually asked to be in. I am not stupid, but that boy will always put me to shame. I think that is the right way though, the next generation smarter than the last, trying to solve the problems the generations before caused, making their own mistakes for their successors to solve and so on.

Today it is List25 day on YouTube. I mean, it is better than the Super Mario Maker he was watching and a lot more interesting, to him, than the blacksmithing videos I have been hooked on the last few days. I think it was a bad idea to start the day with torture devices, but hey, we all make mistakes right? He loves them and, more importantly, it keeps him enthralled for hours at a time, a thing that is more important now than ever. I will take him outside later if it stops raining, social distancing does not mean stay in your house, just a walk, even if it is around the backyard, let the kid feel the wind on his face for a few minutes if nothing else. I should do the same thing with Connorface, hell it would be easier with his wheelchair anyway actually.

I am going to do this today. Write a blog post, then a story thing, then maybe rinse and repeat. I want to get some things out of my head anyway.

That brings me to a thing.

I love all of you who are concerned about me. I do. I am not a self-harm guy, not anymore. I can promise all sorts of things and I know the score on that. I will just assure you the best way I can that I am simply overtired of a lot of things and I will adjust, I always have and I always will. I don’t handle rapid change particularly well and given the ever-evolving situation we are in presently, I think a little panic and worry is normal if not particularly desirable. I am taking all of the medications I am supposed to, I am eating and drinking and doing as much self-care as I can when I have the Ducks to worry about twenty-four hours a day. I am not critiquing people for their worry, I am just trying to tell you that I am, while not fine, not in that much of the Dark as some of you think I am and if I do get to that place I know what I need to do to get myself out by myself, or, in the worst case, who to call if I cannot.

Now I am going to sit here and listen to War Child by Hollywood Undead, get my brain in storytime mode for a little later. Maybe have another cup of coffee, a little bit of food and see where the day takes me in its ever-spiraling complexity.

I love you all, I do.


Thankfulness – My Kitten That Roars

The first time I met Bethany was just a few weeks after I moved back from Kansas the last time. We were at a diner in the city, at a social thing, and we hit it off really well, and it was almost instantly. We talked for hours and hours that first day, carried it over to website chats after and eventually texting back and forth nearly constantly. After a few weeks, we were virtually inseparable, this is all when the dear lady had to drive the sixty miles one way to come and see me.

Now there are a lot of stories I could share with you, but two instantly come to mind and since they are intrinsically connected in the grand scheme of things, I will tell you both because I can do that thing and if you don’t want to read it you can go away and that is okay too.

My middle duck, My Connorface, has severe mental and physical disabilities. He doesn’t speak, walk, or even really crawl, and that is today, I am talking about almost ten years ago and he has made strides since then to improve on all of those areas. He wears diapers and constantly engages in involuntary self-injurious behaviors.

Now, knowing none of this at first, Bethany walked into where we were living at the time and picked him up and held him and loved him like he was her own and that hit my Naomi and I like a shotgun shell tot he chest. No one holds my Connorface see, not his grandparents, not his uncles, no one. Bethany just came in and held him and treated him exactly like Naomi and I did, like a sweet and wonderful little boy who has a laugh that will make your heart melt. He loved her to pieces too and would laugh and smile as soon as he saw her in the room.

If that doesn’t make you smile one of those half-tearful parental smiles, well, you have no heart and there isn’t much I can do for you.

The second story is truly one of my favorite things to tell people when I tell them about my mother and father-in-law.

Naomi was about three months pregnant with the Babeh Duck when we moved back to New York. In fact, it was a huge reason we moved back. I wanted my kid to be born at Strong, so I moved my entire life back to a place where I left running years before.

The day that Naomi went in to have the little dude, a date we got to pick because we were awesome, we got there and went through the agony of the entire process. Sweaty palms, anesthesia, screaming baby, Neonatal Intensive Care, all of it. That story is told elsewhere, this one is about the first time the little newborn got to be held by someone who wasn’t one of his parents.

My mother-in-law came down for the whole thing, my father-in-law couldn’t be bothered, and had been with us from minute one and was actually a colossal help.

However, it was Bethany that got to hold my youngest son first. Not her, not my family, Bethany. Now as much as I would love to say it was just to rub it in my mother-in-law’s face, which let’s be honest it kind of was in a way, Bethany had been there for all of the ups and the downs and the tears and the everything. Doctor Appointments, emergency trips to prenatal cardiologists, all of it and more. it was Bethany that had been there. Bethany that had done. Bethany that had been a rock that Naomi and I both clung to like sailors in a storm when it got to be the worst of the worst.

When I called Bethy the morning Naomi died, she didn’t even think about it and was there in what seemed like moments. Another rock I clung to on that day. For weeks afterward in fact, even to this very morning where I am writing about the woman and leaving out chunks and wholes because certain stories are mine and hers alone.

My Bethany, the kitten that is playful and loving, laughing loudly and proudly, loving Def Leppard and the Muppet Show, making a sauce that rivals Italian grandmothers, a consummate friend, and human being.

All my love Bethy, always.

With Every New Soul Comes A New Beginning, With Every New Beginning Comes A New Tale

Protective. I have always been that person who wants to look after people. Even when I was a bad guy I wanted to make sure that people were safe, well, at least most of them if I have to be honest with you. It is built into who I am, forged by what I came from. I suppose the ultimate deal sealer is when my Ducks came along. I didn’t know what protective was until then, I just thought I knew because I was the Big Bear. When your newborn son has his hands wrapped in your beard and you are whispering to any Goddess that will hear you to forgive you in advance for the violence you will do in the name of protecting this perfect creature, you then that you are protective, or at least that is how it worked for me.

It has caused trouble, yes. I have failed people I wanted to protect, yet. I have even hurt the people I swore I would never see harm come to. I am an imperfect thing and I easily and readily admit to that. I am ashamed of transgressions and things aplenty but what I am not ashamed of, what I will never once be ashamed of, is the effort. I may fail, but by the Goddess and the Darkness That Eats All Things I have never once stopped trying to keep all of them safe. Even the pain I caused was horribly misguided efforts to save them from things that turned out to be lies or delusions of mine and mine alone.

If you know pretty much at all you will know that the friend base I have is very wonderfully tilted towards the gender(s) I am not. I do not have anything against males as a whole, it just seems to be that I make friends easier with people who are not that thing exclusively. If one had to analyze it I suppose it has to do with a need to replace the evil of my mother with a positive feminine influence that I know is not a danger to my psyche, even if that danger is PTSD screaming from the darkest corners of my brain. I am sure there are some other much more pertinent psychological things as well, but it is a choice I make consciously and I think that is the important take away here.

Why do I bring that up? I do because almost exclusively, the people I know that do not need protecting are these wonderful people. There’s is a strength that I envy and fear and I think it is a powerful thing in mind and spirit both. I look up to them, put almost all of them on almost impossibly tall pedestals that I then make ever higher with effusive praise and constantly telling them I love them. It is a balancing act I do not do well and from time to time I need to reevaluate and the line gets drawn again. It is a constant thing, it is what my mind and my heart do and even if I could change it I absolutely would not because it is the way it has always been and they are great and glorious in my eyes even if they are not in their own.


Today is for the creative Bear to scream from mountaintops high and oceans deep. Sweet Siobhan will be back and Pater Noster, which I may have totally forgotten about the other day. Something else as well, something bubbling up, not yet formed as whole. The newness of a thing is not to be rushed lest it be spoiled and we all know a first cannot be repeated.


These Are The Facts and They Are Indisputable

I am sure a few noticed that my attitude about life, in general, is on the uptick as of late. If you didn’t notice, that is okay and you now know and your life will never be the same because of the vast and arcane knowledge that you now possess, if you just find my phylactery….or is that me being a lich?


Even though I am in this good, no, great, place. I am still cognizant of the fact that I have done wrong to people and while I am not going to take the AA method and tell you all I am sorry individually and rely on God for things, I am going to admit to a few things in what I think is a different way. I am not trying to be fancy or special, well I am, but that is just me trying to be the version of me that I want to be, so to thine own self and all of that I suppose.

Have I hurt people, deeply and even often? Yes, I have. I have broken their faith in me and broken their hearts while I was at it. I have made matters that could have been easily solved so much worse because I failed at the one thing I pride myself on, communication. I listened to people I shouldn’t have, I didn’t listen to the people that I should never have stopped listening to and, worst of all, I didn’t listen to myself when I was doing wrong and KNEW I was doing wrong. I took easier roads than the rough ones where I needed to work. Now, changed behavior is the only apology that matters in truth, and I know I will never get the things back that I had in some regards, but I am so much stronger for having this failing, it is a base for which I can build myself up from and I know that all below is rack and ruin and not worth salvaging, no matter what the incessant little voices in my head are trying to tell me even as I write this.

I am not the person I want to be. I know what that person is, I can tell you what he looks like, the things he has done and is doing, but I am not in a position where I can say I am that person. I am lazy and terrified of my own shadow, paranoid the people who I love the most don’t return that love and always on the watch for the failings I have had with drugs rear their ugly heads and swallow me whole and take me deep into that hell all over again. I look for the easy way, the simplest way, the way that requires a smile and a handshake instead of blood and sweat and pain and effort. It is a thing I am actively in the middle of changing and I know that in time I will be that person I can tell you all about, but for now, I need to be content with the fact that I know I am not where I want to be and am making strides towards that place.

Now, enough of that. I am not feeling sorry for myself, I am stating indisputable facts. Now, let me go another direction, my best friend tells me I need to say more positive things about myself, so this is for them and their persistence.

I wrote a motherfucking book. yeah, it is porn and is pretty short, but I wrote a book. I keep telling people it is what I want to do but, you know what, I fucking did it already and anything else is gravy. Hell, you can go get it if you want it, I won’t even make you pay or the damn thing.

I write millions and millions of words. I do the thing that I love to do most in the world. I am not getting the millions of dollars, no, but I am doing precisely the thing that will get it tome if I am persistent enough.

I have three of the most amazing Ducks you will ever imagine knowing. Those of them who have met them know how awesome they are. Their mother was a woman of power and character and all three of them have inherited that from her.

See, three facts that are also indisputable.

It’s always about perspective.


Tranquil Beginnings

There is an absolute simplicity to the way you start our morning, be your running out the door twenty minutes late, or like me today, sipping your coffee and staring at the possibilities of the day, it always starts off at that moment when your eyes open for the first time and there is nothing in your mind that is 100% confident you are awake, at least for that moment. Of course, it quickly fades, and you are thrust into the day in whatever way you either decide or have been chosen for you if you are perhaps not I a position where choice is yours.

On an average day, I get up a little before 4, a quarter til, in fact. I lay there in those opening moments in a stupor as most people do, and then the brain catches up with me, and I quickly go about the business of being a dad and a responsible adult. Sometimes I am granted the gift of an early cup of coffee. Other times, I need to wait about four hours until I am allowed that tasty beverage of magic beans. I get the Ducks ready for their day, Elder Duck being able to do all of the things, save wake his own ass up, by himself. Connorface and Babeh Duck are always in a good mood that early, and one of them inevitably spends a few hours on my lap as we wait for school buses.

When the weather is even vaguely warm, we go out onto the porch twenty minutes or so before the buses are due and listen to a combination of Sixties Surf Music, New Wave Jazz, Industrial Metal, and Grunge Rock. I smile as I enjoy my youngest sons rather eclectic music taste, and eventually his bus comes to scoop him away, Connorface follows suit shortly thereafter and then, and only then, do I take a gigantic breath of air and let it out slowly, knowing that for a few hours at least I can do the things I want to do as opposed to the things I need to do.

Almost every morning is like this, even weekends lately because my internal clock is so fucked up. Kids, Coffee, Breathing, Stuff. I am sitting this morning writing because I haven’t done it correctly in a little while now, but there are projects around the house that I have set myself, and I plan on getting them done.

See, I don’t want social media anymore.

It is terrible for me. I absorb hours and hours of it, and then I sit, and I think about it and how it applies to me, especially if there is no way it could apply to me, and it is just a bunch of new airplanes that I don’t need at the airport at all. I won’t delete the accounts, it is the only method I have for communicating with certain people. I don’t need to go to the sites to use those features, however. Some apps can be used for the messaging aspects, and I will concentrate my energies there when I want to. My blog auto-posts to them so I will not say I will have no presence, but a minimal one. I will send happy birthday messages and that kind of thing, but for the most part, it will be a very back burner kind of thing for me to be sure.

I have decided, at nearly forty years of age, that I need to get my ass in gear and do the things I have been talking about doing since my twenties.