Well, the jury (in my head) is still undecided as far as whether I have anything worth writing about to, you know…write about. I did want to try, again, so let me see.
What am I doing with my fucking life? no, i’m just kidding…i’m not going there right now.
I think it’s been a week without social media, at least the social media outlets that I've been hooked on since I got my first iPhone, about 11 years ago. I did drop into Instagram to say I was dropping out of Instagram (to the best of my ability, as I am pretty weak), and to put up my Reddit username, email address and Spotify account.
I guess it goes back to something that I discussed in my Thursday afternoon Zoom therapy call, with Michael, who looks very much like my longest serving AA sponsor, from the days in New Jersey. The sponsor, also named Mike, by the way. Back at the end of the summer, I got all sober again, and I was doing this thing that I’ve also seen other people do when they put all the chemicals down : feel like I had to prove I’m not a loser or a selfish bag of crap. Seriously, every little thing I did was documented and spread around everywhere (by me). Laundry, grocery shopping, volunteering and going to meetings, all in the insta stories. And then, when I got all crazy, well I documented that too.
The thing about that, which came up in therapy was the question of why I require the validation of others to feel like I’m OK.
I don’t have an answer, but i’m digging. I’m digging into it, man. It’s deep.
I listen to Alan Watts lectures, most every night. One of them was about the difference between isolation and solitude. I think he was talking about how “chosen ones” often find themselves needing a space where they aren't too influenced by listening to the things that others say they should be, do, or say. Now, I’m not going to go and say that i’m some kind of chosen person as my mania has subsided and I don’t think that way about myself when i’m not all extra (as I like to call it). I’ll say that I have some unique capabilities which if I can get at, may serve a purpose that is greater than the level I’m operating at presently.
If you don’t believe me due to my lack of constant instagramming, You can ask my friend Goldy, of New Jersey, who was kind enough to call me on Tuesday night, after I had made my triumphantly delayed return to my AA group. He said he wanted to get into writing, and he gassed me all up about my structuring of narratives. I very much appreciated hearing from the kid, and of course the compliments were welcome, especially at a time when I couldn’t string 3 words together.
I’ve felt stuck. See, there’s 3 words right there.
I’ve felt stuck. I’ve been hung up on all of the things I wish I had. I don’t think i’ll list them here, because, well that would bum me out.
I wasn’t stuck on those things for a while, I was busy being grateful and excited about life. I was busy being perhaps a bit delusional and connecting everything to some kind of deep meaning. All of the elephants i’d see in street art, and Ganesh… for a good stretch of time everything was meaningfully connected. I wasn’t lonely, I was still as financially insolvent as I am now, but it didn't really phase me. I was nice to people, especially my roommate Karl (the friendly schizo-affected giant) , who I care for dearly. You can scroll back a bit, to the posts, I was singing the sesame street song in my head:
“who are the people in your neighborhood”
At the end of last week, I was hardly leaving my house and therefore not interacting with the people in my neighborhood. I was even an asshole to Karl. I found myself without anything that I like to eat, no cigarettes and no money to rectify this situation. I added up all of the sodas, and cigarettes I had given him and the meals I had cooked in my head. I got all pissy.
Then, I got pissed at myself. After realizing that the reason you do nice things for people isn’t so that you get something back. The reason you nice things is because they are nice things, and that’s the right thing to do. I fucking know that.
We are back on good terms, now. I felt terrible.
I have no idea, really what i’m writing about or for, still.
It was ok for a bit but now, my keyboard is back to being all wonkey on this computer. this thing is all fucked up, and it jumps around the page…which makes me curse. I don’t want to curse, I want to go to sleep, because I have a busy day tomorrow…
a appointment with a Psychiatrist, in Manhattan! Wow.
so, I don’t know that I said anything, the jury's still undecided.
I could really use some help, as i’m what people in queens call “broke broke”. not just broke, broke broke. https://ko-fi.com/evr0ck17
https://www.reddit.com/r/evr0ck/ I have a subreddit
