A LONG WAY FROM HOME
I’m flat out stuck.
It has nothing to do with writer’s block.
Mental block?
More like Life Block. “Sorry world, I’m on Life Block. Let’s hope it’s temporary.”
One of those periods where you have laid out a road map, set a direction, and figure you’re getting a fresh start. Charge forward! You can do this, just plain get your shit together.
Continue reading “Depression and moving forward”I see a way forward.
Hopefully a way out of this 5 week trip downward, actually a trip to the bottom. I can’t remember a time when sadness had such a stranglehold on me.
But the way forward is to continue with my project of detailing my life and thoughts on mental illness, therapy and treatments. And my thoughts on being a Queer individual. Just plain different.
A Tree in Winter. My original thoughts on the blog, my loneliness and fear of surviving another cold winter. Where the weather sucks even more life out of me. Long stretches without the sun.
Continue reading “Depression”Why do I hold myself to blame for my first years of existence?
I need to stop.
I was born in 1957, in late March to be exact. The third and last son of a career military man, who was sent to the Korean conflict 2 weeks after my birth.
For 3 years…
Maybe he wanted to stay away, maybe he was needed there. Who knows, and everyone who might have known why are long dead.
Continue reading “Childhood Trauma”I really need to find that handhold to pull myself back up.
Do I seriously believe a journal that should have started 67 years ago will help me to understand why I am at this place in my life?
Maybe.
Maybe it will all make sense and I can leave it lay.
I will say that the course I took was far from “normal” but who ever is?
I need to keep in mind my “oneness“ and being a unique individual there was only one path, and actually lived perfectly.
Continue reading “Depression”If someone were to call this minute and ask what I was up to, I’d have to bluntly say “I’m writing about being raped when I was 7.”
There that helped, it’s said and done. You don’t need to read on, but some of these details led to a lot of the problems…
This pain is very real. This anguish is near unbearable.
I‘m losing this war, where the pleasures in life are short lived, and so few and far apart it’s like they don’t exist.
I’m in mourning. It’s like when I’ve lost someone that has become a part of me is torn away. My brother, my mother, my best friend,
and now myself.
I quietly reach out for help, but no one is there.
For the last seven days I’ve awoken crying. Upon opening my eyes they immediately fill with tears.
Am I crying because I know what the day will bring?
Or crying for all those days past?
I am screaming out but no one hears.
Or they hear but don’t listen.
This needs to end