The Ever Rising Tide

You’ve seen this before, I just thought I would throw my take into the fire I suppose, I have nothing else to do, so I thought I would analyze my mental health for the internet. I have worse things, so at least this is something I am vaguely interested in.

There are no trigger warnings needed here, I am not going to talk about the Bad Dark, just what the face of it all looks like.

Any of you who have ever met me know that I love to both laugh and make others laugh. I am not particularly funny, I know a stand-up comedian, that motherfucker is funny. I am self-deprecating and I suppose that is humorous in its way. I digress, however.

Even when I am in the middle of the deepest laugh I can have, tears streaming down my face and various floods being ejected from various orifices of my body, I am still very, strongly, deeply, clinically depressed.

When I am walking around the supermarket with my new bandana face mask necessity and I am breathing in my self-produced humidity and I am smiling at the pharmacist and the cashier, I am still having a panic attack that I will crash into. Not when I get home, not until much later when I am alone and it is dark. Then the panic will wash over me like waves that bring it higher and higher until I choke on it and curl up in a ball and simply submit to it all.

When I am sitting in my best friends living room, a human being I trust more than nearly anyone who has ever lived, I know the exits, I know how to get home with no money, I have an exit strategy because that is what I have always needed and you don’t shut off decades worth of paranoia, if it were rational, it wouldn’t be paranoia.

You’ve seen me finging right? You know, fingers finging? Tapping the tip of each finger against the tip of my thumb. Sometimes I count, other times I multiply, sometimes I do days of the week or some other repetitive so my brain can match the absenteeism of my hand movements, trying to fight back the things I don’t want just then. The migraines, the panic, the agoraphobia, claustrophobia, or a thousand other things.

I can be talking to you, laughing with you, lifting you in a hug I never want to let go of, kissing your forehead, drinking with you, eating my best friends food, holding the woman I love, sitting with my kids on my lap, or I can be alone in my bedroom.

It will never leave. It is dark when the light goes off, the eeriness of quiet in the city neighborhood, the shock and awe of a thunderbolt.

It is there.

It is always there.

IF I Were A Betting Man, Which I Am In The Worst Possible Way, I Imagine I Would Be Seeing A LOT Of Posts From the Overly Caffeinated Bear Today

It’s funny how many people are doctors when you are afflicted with a thing they believe they know more about than you do. As awkward as the timing is of me writing this, this has nothing to do with the current COVID health crisis, know it is the usual rant that we are going to go into today.

It’s not just a headache. It has never been just a headache. It will never be just a headache. It is not a take a Tylenol and suck it up buttercup situation. It is not something that I can always just power and pose my way through until I get to the safety of my bathroom floor or bedroom darkness.

In the last couple of months, I have been getting a lot better at not retreating like a turtle when it hurts at a certain point. I am. However, when all you can think of is vomit and death, maybe that is when you need to go and lie down for a few and see if you can reset the cranium case to a vaguely normal level.

No, I will not go into how bad it hurts, or any of that. You have ignored me for more than a decade, I think perhaps you would have got the point if you were going to get it by now. So, instead of shaming you and educating you like I have been doing all this time, I am going to pivot in my head, stop writing about this and tell you a plan I have.

I am getting 18 bottles of wine tomorrow because that is what awesome is experienced as by us lowly motherfucking mortals. Terry ordered some bad-ass cheeses that came in just the other day and I am going to act all fancy and shit and have a fucking cheese tray with sweet, literally and otherwise, ass wine for dinner tomorrow night and there is nothing you can do about it because I am a motherfucking adult and if I want to have wine for dinner I fucking will.

The next morning, I will be recording my impressions of the wine in a jovial and light-hearted manner and there is also nothing you can do to prevent me from doing this because that would infer I give a fuck about what you think in regards to my recording preferences.

In addition, like a Warrior Princess I know, I am all up in a Serial Killers podcast and am horrifyingly and yet refreshingly surprised that there are as many of them as there are. That and all sorts of other shit I have been meaning to listen to for goddamn years and for some reason my unemployed ass thought I had “no time” for. Fuck all of that shit in its shiny metal ass. Notice my proper lack of apostrophe use in the last instance of “its”, yeah, English bitches.

In case you hadn’t notice, the goddamn caffeine kicked in about paragraph five and it is fucking on now.

I talk to all of you that I can damn near every single day. Every single one I can. Yup, I forget to message you sometimes, or sometimes I have some shit going on, but most of the time it is me messaging you because that is what I do and anyone who has ever smiled at the stupid RAWRZ! I send every morning makes my motherfucking day. I never actually expect anyone to respond right away, I mean, you are busy people doing busy people things, I GET IT, I do.

Lonely Island is an awkwardly awesome motivator, but now I am on to Lil Jon and LMFAO with Shots so it is on, in all the best ways things can be indeed not off. A hundred some-odd decibels of music an inch or so from your eardrum is probably bad, but you only live, well, however many times it is now, right? It will be Confusion by New Order with that sweet Remix action.

Oh yeah, to get back to the beginning. Yes, I still have a fucking migraine, but in the spirit of doing my life a little differently, I am ignoring the best I can and enjoying my goddamn morning to the motherfucking fullest.

RAWWWWRZ

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

So, when I am in a position where I am forced to think even more than I normally do, such as being in the same room for forty and fifty hours at a time, I try to think of things I can say to people who are, in this case at least, in a similar situation, to see if I can help their brains as they are all so very good at helping me every single time I ask, which is so very often.

I try to think of ways to tell them how they are appreciated and how I value them in all the ways I do. Except, in my head at least, it all gets to be this repetitive, trite-sounding, mealy-mouthed words that I say over and over again. Which, as you can imagine, does nothing for the airplane taking off in my head demanding to fix the problem that I am having and say the things I need to say to make the feelings feel the way the feelings should feel and all of that.

So then I try to over-explain what I feel to these people and it ends up this gigantic clusterfuck of nothing and everything and whatever message I was originally trying for is so hopelessly lost in the barrage of bullshit being projected from my mouth that I need to just stop and waddle, humiliated, over to my dark corner of the world.

So, instead, I am going to just vomit all of this up and hopefully, you can sift through the detritus, flotsam, and jetsam of it all and see if any of it applies to you.

I know I have been a live nerve for the last few months. I know I have been annoying and moodier than even I normally am and this raging ball of bullshit, but it is who I am. All of y’all taught me not to apologize for being me so I won’t do that. I do want to say that I know that I have said some fucked up things to some of you and I am so very sorry for doing that.

I want to tell you that there is no way I could have survived, at least mentally, this COVID-19 thing without the help of the awesome science humans I know who sat me down and very carefully explained to me why some of my fears were misplaced and, yes, why some of them were in fact very real. It allowed me to get prepared in a good way and not panic and buy 37 cases of toilet paper and no food. These people helped me make sure my babies were safe and taken care of from this thing in the ways that they needed to be.

I want to tell my best friend that I think that she is a goddamn superhero who puts up with my shit way more than any other living thing in the world combined. I do not deserve her in my life in the slightest and the fact that she can somehow make the entirety of the world stop spinning so I can do a simple thing like laugh means more to me than I can easily express without, well, doing things like this.

My friends whom I text at the ungodly times of the morning, the friends with kids who still take the time to make sure I am OK, the friends whose lives are just as chaotic, if not more so, than mine is. The heroes that still go to work outside their home in this, the champions that are working from home still. The mothers and sisters, brothers and nieces that have adopted me just as much as I have adopted them.

People who I have known forever and people I am only now getting to truly know, you have shown compassion to me and mine and while I will never believe I deserve it, I appreciate it more than you can ever possibly fathom.

Thank you for being the net I fall into every time the world gets to be chaos and I can’t accept that.

Loves

I Used Sisyphean AND Tantalus, So, I Get Bonus Points I Think, Don’t You?

There are so many things that I want to say to people that I am terrified to say to them because if they reject me, that’s it, I will shrivel and hide in a fucking corner until the end of time and pretend that I was never a thing, never mind a vague humanoid type thing. I am pretty sure that is the thing in the Universe I am more terrified than anything else. Not death, not meeting my Goddess, not seeing those who will demand answers that I will never know, but to be discarded like refuse on the highway and forgotten about before I even leave their hand all the way.

It is not the existential that drives my mind into the darkness of itself. It is not the fears of the afterlife, it is the stark and very real terror of being completely abandoned. I am very aware that this is a fear that most people seem to take care of when they are far, far younger than the forty I am turning on Monday. In fact, I am positive all the things I have been feeling for the last three or four weeks are directly tied to that particular fact. I can say that age is just a number and all of the other things, but I never expected to get out of my teens, forty is terrifying beyond rational thought.

So, that is where the lizard brain is.

The Bear, however, is in a completely different frame of mind, or at least a chunk of the Bear.

See, forty is a motherfucking milestone. It’s a huge thing. As I said, I got past seventeen, I am living on time that is beyond borrowed, this is the compounded daily shit the mob charges you when you go to Louie the Knife to see if you can borrow enough to pay off the other guy you borrowed money from. I have made mistakes that only can be made when you make other mistakes. I have hurt people, myself, and all of
that bullshit.

So, here I am.

Fourteen thousand, six hundred and seven days old.

Maybe life is not the Sisyphean horror show that I keep thinking it is. Maybe I am not the Tantalus of lore and just a normal guy who finally got his head just far enough out of his ass to live a life, marry a wonder, have gorgeous children and now I just need to stop and fucking enjoy some shit.

Let’s do this?

Yeah, One Of These

Sometimes you need to leech the poison out…..

I do my best you know. I try the hardest I can on the days I have the ability to fucking try at all. I get up and Dad the best I can, even the days I want to hide under the blanket and pretend that I have no idea whose kids those are making all that noise. I get up and I come down here and try to be sociable, yes, at 3:30 in the fucking morning. What am I supposed to do, sit here like a rock and ignore the little dude who wants to sit in my lap, the middle guy laughing at the wonders of the world and the elder asking me questions he genuinely wants to know the answers to.

When they leave I come in and I cry, almost every day, at least for a minute or two. I cry because I am missing them already, I am in pain, I am sad because that is what I do or because I saw a cat that was homeless. It doesn’t take now, it never really has taken all that much at all.

I sit here and I message my people. I message them all in the same way, in the same order, with the same words, every single day because if I don’t have my routine I have nothing.

Then the day does what it does.

I don’t want sympathy, I am writing this because my brain told me I needed to and when my brain tells me to write something, I write it. I have no option in the matter. I am a slave to it and I will never not be and it is what has kept me around here long enough that you get to sit and read this thing.

I have written hundreds and hundreds of thousands of words. You have read some, a lot it may seem, but no.

The things I can’t write down, the things trapped in my head forever out of fear and shame, guilt and pain. I read them, in my head, behind my eyes, every single time I blink or try to sleep or tell myself the headache will go away soon because nothing can last that long, right?

I whine a lot to all of you. I call it all kinds of things, but let’s keep it real, I whine. I won’t promise to not do it, that is a lie, but I will at least own the word and try my best to mitigate the circumstances in which I do things.

Randomness Ensues

If you know me past a little bit, you know February is up there on my list of months that go can go fuck in a grease fire.

I miss all of you so much.

Rarwrz