I have
several things running through my mind, or maybe none. Today has been one of
those days where I seem to have too much of something, or maybe nothing. Or if
it’s something, it’s something that is so negligible in import as to be, well,
negligible; minute. On the sub-atomic level. Actually, I haven’t been able to
concentrate on one God-damned thing for more than 5 seconds all day. This is ADHD
full out and rampant at its worst. This is about the time, the bipolar shift
kicks in and I’m in that manic phase. It’s getting close to the one year
anniversary of the Great, “Stay Up All of February & Have a Psychotic
Break!”
This
year, I’m prepared. So, looking good with all my head meds and good vibes. This
is also the same time after the psychotic break that I don’t remember along
with the Bonus Mental Hospital Committal that my physical symptoms of “PD or
non-PD, that is the question” (hear me, Tampa-USF-shrink-chuckleheads, hmmm?)
began. They have trebled in severity since that time. The symptoms, not the chuckleheads.
But, I’m
doing great; I’m happy and I’m in a wonderful place. I have friends and I have
a purpose in life. My purpose in life is to illuminate, rant, amuse and just be
a general pain in the ass to whoever will be bothered to spend 5 minutes
reading my blabberings. I stopped writing for a while, because, frankly, the
tremors have gotten rough. Along with that, I have lots and lots of mental
“fugue states” for want of a better term. I do have some dementia, too.
It makes
writing a supreme pain in the ass and I was hating it. Just hating writing
anything. It became this monumental struggle. What should take me 45 minutes,
was taking me a day and a half. Without any type of diagnosis or treatment for
neuro-muscular disorder, I can barely function at 1/10 speed. So, I pretty much
stopped writing and barely visited my buddies online. I hate running around
online and presenting all of this, so I just kind of drop off of the face of
the earth, which isn’t right, either. But, there it is.
I’ve
adopted a “regimen” of sleeping 10 or as much as 12 hours a day, which has
helped me tremendously. I’ve been eating as well as I possibly can. My weight
is holding at 100 lbs. I take all of my vitamins and meds. My primary doctor
and my psychiatrist have been working with me and I am enrolled in a couple of
these programs where the drug companies pay for the most expensive drugs. In
March, I will be covered under Medicare and *fingers crossed* going to the
Center of Excellence study at USF where they are funding Parkinson’s Disease
studies.
So,
enough of my bullshit. My friend, Sundae Rye (visit his website at: http://sundaeryestudio.com/ and follow him on Twitter @SundaeRye) and I are "pen pals" (email pals?) Sundae is one of the most gifted and out there people I’ve had the
great good fortune to run across. He’s a superb writer, illustrator and
designer. He's funny as hell, and spurs me to new heights of… I
don’t know, lunacy? My latest is “blahbernation.” Instead of “hibernation.” So,
Sundae thought that was pretty cool. He used it in such a way though, like,
“The United States of Blahbernation.” So, I’m here to say now, if that shit
takes off? Sundae Rye gets first dibs on it. It’s his copyright. Do check him out; his books are awesome and wonderfully skewed, as is his artwork.
I wonder
what the flag to that country would look like? The national anthem would be:
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, sung in the key of E#. No words, just
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Imagine the national bird. A parakeet? Nah. A wren. Yeah,
we could have fun with this.
"What? Me, blah?" or, Alfred E. Blah
That’s
really about it; although I did have another one of my crazy, fun trips to my
grocery store, yesterday. I must correct an omission. When I wrote the post for
Thanksgiving about the pink pumpkins, I mentioned two of the men who work at
the store in produce. One gentleman is named Casey and I named him. The other
gentleman, who is also a very fine man is named Jim, and I omitted his name,
not out of negligence, but because I didn’t know his name. For that I am sorry.
I told him about that post and he read it and we finally introduced ourselves
to one another. So, Jim! Thank you! You valiantly wrangled those pink pumpkins!
YEEHAA!!!!!!
I love
that store and the people who work there are awesome. Jim in produce is one of
the more awesome among the group. I’ve been going to that market since I was
first homeless and they’ve always been terrific. I’m there 3 times a week and
it’s always fun to visit. It takes me 6 hours to shop.
I’m still
not too sure about what goes on in the spice aisle though. The cake and brownie
mixes are also in that aisle, across from the spices, and every time I go to
get some yellow cake or brownie mix, there is covert activity. This time, it
was a guy whispering into a cell phone. When he saw me coming, he hung up
quickly and grinned sheepishly. He sort of hovered for a minute and then said,
“Where’s the complete spice?” All Spice? I asked him, trying to be helpful.
Nope, he insisted there was a “complete” spice. He never did find it and left,
muttering about going to Publix. Okay, guy. I do hope he found what he needed. Not too freaky, but for the fact that his twin came by, not 2 seconds later, and we had to re-enact "Ground Hog Day." I got to do the Bill Murray part. Geeze o pete. Once again, I grabbed my brownies and skipped on out of there!
So, Row 80
starts up again on the 9th of January. I’m glad to be back at it,
but I need to try and figure out what my real goals are and what I am really
trying to do. I’m 57, have had 2 different careers and am not really sure what
I want to do next. I don’t want to be like my father, who found himself on disability
at the age of 48. I think that was mostly by his choice. He did try to go back
to work after what was a crippling heart attack, but he didn’t last long in the
work-a-day world. He died 11 years later, after living pretty much the way he
had always lived; heedless and unaware of what his own lifestyle and
incapacitation would do to those around him who loved him.
As an
only child, I was crushed when he died in his sleep, unexpectedly. I was 31.
But, in truth, he outlived my prediction. I had last seen him at his mother’s
funeral in 1985 and I really thought he would not live out the year. He
out-lasted my prediction by 1 and ½ years. When he was first out on disability,
he had mentioned something about law school, which he could easily have done,
as smart as he was. It would have taken him 4 years. I have been on disability
for almost 2 years. I take care of myself, but really, none of us knows when
our time will come. I think I just answered my own question.
