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It has been sort of a weird month. I don't have a very good memory right now, so I should try to remember the earlier parts.

Outside of seeing my friend leave on the 23rd and filling out the forms for the SSI re-evaluation, I really don't remember a whole lot. I think that the reason why I don't remember things so well is because I'm kind of going through a lot of emotional turmoil right now. The Monday after my friend left, I thought to myself "Hey, this isn't so bad." But by Tuesday I was sort of freaking out during the evenings, and this was the same the following day. Today I could barely be in public while I was getting groceries. I wasn't crying or anything; I'm just pretty emotionally and mentally upset right now. It is hard for me to seriously remember or think about anything. If I was using drugs and still drinking alcohol, then that would account for at least part of it, but that isn't happening. I'm just a very mentally fragile person, now. Later last month, I found out that a person I used to know online back in the 00s killed himself by jumping off of a 10th floor balcony about a year ago. While I was not friends with that person, it hurt me. I think that I've become more sensitive to the world due to the fact that alcohol no longer dulls either my mind or my senses. But at the same time, my emotions become more out of control. In a way, it is good, because then I finally feel alive, but you just crash and burn in the end, and thus you cannot feel much for a while. This is what happened to me, although I now feel again.

I'm not eating a lot. I wonder if I'm doing okay; I would say that I am, but I'm often preoccupied with my health to the point of neurosis. I've decided to make a lot of changes in my habits, such as not eating meat unless if it is offered, reducing sodium intake, not drinking alcohol, not drinking or eating anything with high sugar content, and reducing substance use (the less the better). So far, I'm more or less following all of that. I still smoke, but I only smoke about two or three cigarettes a night. No amount is safe, but I don't think that it will hurt me much.

I just really need to get my life in order. I'm going to be 33 in less than two months, meaning that I'm well past my prime. In just two short years, I will no longer be young at all. I already feel at least ten years older than my age. I don't look horrible, and I feel that I'm making the right choices, but I'm still a bit worried about how I'm going to hold up. I haven't really done a lot in the past year, and I feel that all of my opportunities are gone. Hell, I took all of them, and even succeeded at them, but look at me now. I'm nothing. I don't believe in self-pity, because I'm still very motivated to become something, but what the hell am I doing? I just really don't understand why my life is so broken, and why I can't get around to doing much. I really just do enough to care for myself; outside of that, I just can't. I'm not lazy, I just don't have the ability to do much. And it disgusts me because I have potential to do a lot.

And I just feel so odd, here. I've been in this town for so long, and the people aren't getting any older. In a way, it is interesting to see the young college kids act in ways that weren't typical when I was their age, but again, I just have no idea about what to do here. I just don't connect to anyone, anywhere, but here especially. At least if I was in a city, there would be a lot more people my own age, but cities would be terrible for me. I just don't know where to go.

Well, at least I'm feeling things again.
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I'm a little bit better now. I feel a little sick, probably from the stress and perhaps the smokes and the alcohol. I haven't drank or smoked all that much (I've seldom betrayed the "once-every-other-day" schedule), but I need to stop doing that because it isn't helping and they are probably making me sick, or at least making it more likely for me to get sick.

I was stressed out for about three weeks. Still sort of am; it was making my hair fall out. When I was on the phone with my sister, she told me that when I told her of the bad news, that she could tell that I was under so much distress. I just hate how something can totally not be your fault, and yet only you suffer the consequences. I've had to experience that a lot.

I don't feel like I'm dying, but I do think that I have to stop doing this shit. I'm sick of it.

I likely won't move. I can't afford to move anywhere and I like it here, anyways. I shouldn't make a sacrifice just because someone else is being dishonest and childish. It turns out that my brother didn't know, and he fully supports our father. Big surprise there. I probably will be more distant towards both of them; I can really only enjoy my life when I'm not reminded of this shit. Fortunately, there have been times where I don't think about it, and act like it never happened.

I'm reading and writing again. After I read a book by Simone De Beauvoir, I'm probably going to write something about existentialism, which is my favorite school of philosophy (so far).

When I talked to my therapist about what happened yesterday, she told me that my father can replace his wife, but that he can't replace my mother. Only I have the power to make that choice. She is right, but it doesn't make it any less hard.

Oh well, at least my life isn't entirely boring right now.

I just have to become more distant with them. Disowning my father wouldn't do any good, at least right now. But I'm sick and tired of pretending and being manipulated. Even if my mother was still alive and our family was normal, you don't try to be a "big, happy family" when your oldest son is nearly 32. It just doesn't work.

I guess that I am still sort of angry, but if I shut it out of my life, it won't be a major problem.

Well, here is hoping that I end up not damaged or anything.
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It has been about a month since I last posted. Things have happened, but I couldn't really jot them down. I don't completely remember the early part of this month, in any case.

My father and his girlfriend are going on a sailing trip down the coast of Mexico. I think that it is really foolish, because neither one of them speaks Spanish (at least I don't think that they do), his girlfriend doesn't really know how to sail, there are tides, storms and pirates down there, and there is bacteria in the water. Not to mention that he has never gone on any kind of trip like this; the San Juan Islands are just a dot on the map in comparison to the coast of Mexico.

Some people think that they will be okay (although most don't), but my father told me a month ago that they don't care if they die on the trip. Why would his girlfriend think that? She just retired. Obviously, he has some sort of death wish. When I told my sister that part, she immediately freaked out and said that he said this kind of crap when he was going to kill himself. Before then, she was just neutral about it, which was weird because I thought that I told her, but I suppose that I left that part out. In any case, they could die, or something else could happen that is not good. I'm not hoping for it, but it is realistic.

There is also the whole thing about where is he getting all this money to go on these trips and buy a sailboat in San Diego, but I have no proof of anything, so I can't accuse him of anything bad, at least not yet.

I don't drink every day anymore. That is great, because I don't want to waste my money and I care about my health. I don't like beer anymore, anyway; I threw up last night on my old laptop and I thought that I ruined it, but I likely didn't. I just think that drinking alcohol is pretty silly and juvenile, and is a waste of time.

I also don't want to do DXM as much; I'm not going to do it today, so that is good.

I've been reading some Existentialism recently, mostly by Camus. I like him; I agree with most of what he says, even if he isn't always clear. Sartre, on the other hand, is almost pure nonsense. Reading that kind of stuff makes me feel like I'm not an idiot.

I messed around with Irfanview yesterday, and it was really cool. It inspired me to make my own GIFs and pixel art. I think that I'm going to do that with my time now, instead of drinking.

Overall, things are above-average.
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I haven't posted in a while. Although there have been periods of time when I didn't post for quite a bit longer.

Things have been pretty quiet. I've been kind of sick for a few days, I had dinner with my father and his girlfriend alone for the first time, and I went to have a medical exam, but that is about it.

I realized just yesterday that I'm really no worse off than I would be if I had a decent, full time job with a decent amount of money. I mean, sure, being on SSI and not having a job makes me feel like a loser, but on the other hand it was due to things that were completely out of my control. I think that what really made me angry wasn't that I really was a loser, but that I had proven myself by getting a Master's degree in something that isn't completely useless and yet I was still doomed to work the lowest of the low positions. For a long time, I felt that people were against me and worked towards making sure I was kept down. I still feel this way. But nonetheless, I can at least say that none of it was my fault, and that I have the luxury of having all the time in the world to spend as I wish. Not even most of the very rich have that freedom. Still, I have the feeling that I will never amount to anything, and that gets to me. People say that I'm a brilliant writer, but I have absolutely no idea how to get my poems and essays out there. And without that, you may as well not be writing at all.

I've noticed that I get a lot more angry these days. I guess that I'm more fed up with everything now. I have been wronged in some ways, but not recently. I don't know why this is happening, outside of being more sick. I don't know why I get more sick, either. I used to never get sick.

I just hope that my health is okay. I don't have any explanation for why I get so sick, so as such I kind of wonder why it is happening. I hope that my liver isn't damaged or anything.

Overall, I'm just trying not to feel like a loser. I like to think that I'm not, but I have no proof of that. My mind isn't as good as it used to be, I feel like my health is dwindling away, and I am afraid that I likely have no opportunities to become something great in my life. It is hard to move on, when you have nothing to move on to.
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It has been about two weeks since I moved.

I love it. I don't feel antsy in there anymore; I've learned how to deal with boredom. I think that I initially felt that way because I didn't know how to spend my time without the internet, but now I just like to chill out. I'm actually a lot more happy and mentally healthy without constant access to the internet; it provides me a lot less opportunity to remind myself that I'm not like anyone else, and as such I'm a lot less jaded.

I could spend all day in my apartment, but I like going out sometimes. I still need to see my small amount of friends, anyway, just to keep myself somewhat in the loop. I don't need a social life but I don't want my ability to talk to others to completely atrophy.

It hasn't rained in over a month. It has just been fairly hot and sunny. I hate it.

I paid my former roommate all of the money that I owed him, and to celebrate I got drunk. It was fun at the time, but during the next day I just felt like a degenerate loser. It was the first time I felt extremely ashamed about it; usually I just made excuses in the past. I didn't have a drop of alcohol the day after, though, so that was good. I'm planning to stay away from alcohol. It is unhealthy, a waste of time and way too expensive, anyway. Even if I could afford it, I don't know if I would want to drink it anymore.

As it turns out, my former roommate still lives at the old place. I sort of knew that; he said that he wanted to move out, but the arrangement that he made didn't work out. I believe him, although if it was a few weeks ago I would have called him a liar. He seemed pretty unhappy. I'm not glad that he fucked himself over, but he did bring it all on himself.

I still slightly miss the old place, but it brought out a lot of bad habits and I needed to move on and start living on my own. I was getting too old to have roommates.

Basically, these days I just chill out in my apartment and carry out solitary activities. I like reading and writing, and I write about ten pages of poetry a day. One of my friends has been reading my poems and she likes them. The problem is, though, is that I don't know how to really get my poems out there, so it might be a while. I am not sure if anyone reads poetry anymore, anyway. I also want to make computer games and music again, as well as practice drawing (which I actually have been doing), but my poetry comes first.

Other than that, pretty much nothing. The death anniversary of my mother was uneventful, save for meeting my brother's girlfriend for the first time. She is nice. I'm watching my weight now and I have lost a few pounds, and it is odd because my brother now weighs more than me. It used to be the other way around for several years. I don't eat that much, even when I'm hungry, because I'm barely stressed out or anxious anymore. That, in combination with alcohol reduction, will likely make me skinny again, for the first time in about five years.
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I finished my second book of poetry today. It is titled, "Many Questions, Few Answers". I wrote over 130 poems in less than a month; that is pretty impressive, to me. On the whole, I am proud of the work, but I realize that I probably have at least a little bit left to go before I become something noteworthy. I am good, but I'm nowhere near the best.

I think that what is going to kill my chances as a poet in particular, and a writer in general, is that I have no idea how to get my works out outside of self-publishing. And I don't like doing that. Self-publishing is like using a vanity press, except in the former case you generally don't pay any money, or at least you don't have to. But I'm still improving, and I might get a better idea about how to do it nice and proper; at least my poems no longer revolve around myself so much. If going to church taught me anything, it is that you should look for things outside of yourself, rather than be completely self-absorbed. I was like that for years and it did me no good, but at least I snapped out of it.

Other than that, I'm still not drinking so much (about once every third day). I don't like spending a lot of money on a fickle high. At least DXM gives you a sense of meaning. Plus, I don't like beer as much as I used to. So about five years of near-solid drinking; happened a bit later in my life than most, but that isn't a long period and I learned pretty well in the end. I could relapse, sure, but why? Drinking beer doesn't solve anything; it just gives you a sense of euphoria that lasts maybe three hours and increases your anxiety afterwards. I really only did it because I was bored so much, and have a lot of time on my hands. I did drink while I had a job, but nowhere near as much as without one.

I've been putting things into boxes and leaving them in the living room for the move in two weeks. I don't have a lot of stuff; perhaps only 20% of my stuff is still in my room, excluding furniture. It will probably be easy to move to the new place, outside of my bed and the cabinet.

Well, all is okay right now. I'm not going crazy, I'm not as stressed out anymore, and I feel a little bit healthier since toning down my substance use. Still feel slightly uneasy about the anticipation, though.
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Still feel like crap. Although when it rains, I feel a bit healthier, because it clears the air from that pollen shit. I can't believe that I've had allergies for at least two years and I just now have noticed it; I think that this is because I didn't have allergies at all during my youth and I believed that I would never get them. But no, it can happen to you, at any time.

My roommate actually has to move out as well; it didn't work out for his friend and his girlfriend. Just desserts, but since he has to deal with the fallout as well, I'm no longer angry at him. Things just change, eventually.

I need to stop drinking beer. It just depletes my savings, depletes my health, and just makes me feel like shit if I have too much. It used to be that I could handle nine to twelve beers with ease; now it obliterates me. I feel like total garbage whenever I drink that much the morning after. Plus, it is really making my anxiety and depression worse. I just feel like I can't do anything, and that my mind is just becoming retarded. Of course, it isn't, but I'm not performing well right now. I should drink something else instead, so that I don't make myself worse off in the long run; even having four beers sometimes feels like it is too much these days.

I've decided that even though I'm not reading right now, I'm going to write another book of poetry. I'm still writing poems, and I need a project so that I'm not a complete waste of space, so as such I may as well turn what I am doing into a book. It won't be centered around my psychotic disorder this time; I'm trying to distance myself from the poems. The poems that I write aren't very emotionally laden, but rather self-critical in a light-hearted manner. I'm having fun writing them, but I honestly think that I'm not doing enough with my time right now. Then again, there isn't much someone like me can do, unemployed or not; the fact that I have one talent is remarkable.

I'll try to weather through this. Hopefully I won't be subject to anyone's stupidity anytime soon, because I'm on the verge of snapping.
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I'm not feeling too well.

I don't know if it is physically or psychologically rooted. It could be both. I just feel like I'm going haywire and that my body is just acting up. I feel like I see things sometimes, my body heats up for no good reason, my throat swells up, my eyes hurt, I have almost no desire or energy...I just have never been through anything like this before.

When my mother was in hospice, I just felt like I was running on empty. I had to keep myself from crying in my workplace. Fortunately, I did, but that was still embarrassing. The year after Mom's death, I just drank a lot and did a stupid amount of legal highs. Last year, I was only worried about my father doing something inappropriate at my mother's grave.

You'd think that it would be easier as it goes on. That was the trend. But now, it isn't so. It is like my father has completely forgotten about my mother; I brought up that it was the time of the year a few days ago to him, and he just thought that I was talking about the seasons. How dense and shallow could he be? That was his wife, and now he forgets all about her. He replaced her with someone else, and expects his children to be happy for him. Well, I'm not.

Also when I inadvertently brought up about the denial of my autonomy growing up, he added "...and you're going to blame your parents for that?", laughed, and then said that his conscience is clear because while he may have made mistakes, he did what was best. Sure, he might have, but best for whom? It was really all about him, growing up. Not to mention that admitting mistakes and saying that "I did my best" does not absolve you from the fact that you fucked your kid's life up; there is no way I can have a normal life due to what happened to me when younger...I basically have no career path, and no future. What is worse, is that he fully admits that he made mistakes, but that it doesn't affect him at all. That takes some real nerve to openly admit that; he probably is emotionally shallow, with both this and forgetting about my mother. I don't know how long I can talk to him.

And even if my father had nothing to do with it, my life is still hard now as is. I have no motivation; I still want to do things with my life, and I have minor interests, but I can barely do anything. I can't even read a book; I have the fear that depression is turning me into an idiot. I'm not quite drinking myself stupid, but I need to watch that, as well.

I feel that this is the beginning of a downward spiral. I don't know how to stop it. It is bad enough that things are the way they are with my mother dead and my father the way he is; I also need to find another place as soon as possible. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is ringing true for me, and it may not end up pretty. Just...Jesus. I ended up dealing with low blows, and they all synergized into one great mess.

I don't feel suicidal. Oddly, I feel less angry at myself, or anything anymore. I'm just sad. Perhaps that is a sign of maturity; anger barely changes anything. It can, but it usually doesn't.
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I actually had the flu for roughly three weeks last month; I only got over it about a week ago. It was odd, because I had no idea what it was like to have it, and when I got it I had no idea about what I was going through until I had it explained by others. It affected me somewhat bad for a couple of days; muscle aches, odd teeth sensations, and a horrible headache for about a day that made me feel like I was about to have a stroke. But I got over it, eventually.

The flu affected me far more psychologically, though, than it did physically. I felt really off for a few days, and I couldn't really write in a decent manner. I was pretty disorganized in my thoughts, and I thought that I was getting less intelligent. There was also a fair amount of depression, anxiety and agitation as well, and it kind of showed in my mannerisms. I'm fine now, which is a relief, but I was legitimately worried that I was suffering brain damage.

I've been wondering just how I'm going to be when I'm older. I don't think that I could stand being older if I had never done anything significant, or at the very least constantly works on something that might end up being significant. Perhaps it doesn't matter, but I honestly couldn't deal with myself being older and basically just contributing nothing to the world, like I'm a waste of space. I sort of feel this way right now, in that I feel worthless and that my future is just a huge void. At least when you are still somewhat young, you have that sense of hope, but in a few years I won't be young anymore and as such I will have no sense of hope at all. Oh well, at least I see it coming.

There has been a change in my personality recently; I'm a lot more pissed off now, and am not so shy and reluctant to show my agitation anymore. Maybe it is due to realizing that my life is kind of a ruin, and I'm a broken man, or perhaps it is because I've been cheated out of any sort of chance to really have a life outside of being on SSI. It started happening when I had the flu, so maybe my mind really was altered in some minor way. I'm not angry at anyone (well, outside of my father), because what good does that do? Most people had nothing to do with how I ended up, despite being apathetic people in general. Being angry at others just causes further grief and drama. And perhaps anger isn't really even the right word for the whole thing; rather, it is malcontent. I just like I'm not going to amount to anything and that my future doesn't hold anything; some of this is my fault, but most of it isn't. I was raised in a stupid way that closed almost all doors of opportunity for me. And the things that I did right, such get a Master's degree, never amounted to anything in the end. My life is just a dud. If I didn't have SSI, Medicaid and Food Stamps, I'd likely either be homeless or working some job that wouldn't even pay me enough to live on (trust me, I've been there before). I'm not even trying to whine, moan and cry; I am indeed grateful for what I'm given. But on the other hand, I feel like I have little, if anything to live for. I read a lot, and I want to start a blog so that I can share my ideas with people, but that is really about it. I can't even finish writing books anymore, because it just feels so fruitless. The feeling that I won't be anything significant is something that I just can't shake off.

Man, I really am whining. This kind of disgusts me. I still enjoy things, I still like living my days most of the time, and I still have some friends, so I just should forget about this whole thing for a while.
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It has been a really odd month so far.

I recently found out that one of my friends from MTSU died in a car accident last May. I can't believe that I didn't know that one of my friends had been dead for over seven months. We were pretty good friends during my last year at MTSU, but after I left we barely talked to one another so as such it wasn't as painful as it could have been. I guess that it just goes to show how far removed I am from that phase of my life; I really have changed a fair amount. He is roughly the ninth or tenth person who has died on me in my life, which is actually a fairly large number for someone who is only 31 years old; most of the departed were young people like him, too (he was only 26 when he died). I am no stranger to death; I was introduced to it on a significant level when my best friend died from auto-erotic asphyxiation when we were both 17. That was really shocking because I didn't know that people did that to themselves, and my friend was very straight-laced.

An odd thing about my dead friend was that when I was talking to him through Facebook four years ago, I told him that I wanted to move and yet I didn't want to abandon my mother, who had cancer and was going to die a year and a half later (I had no idea that my mother was soon to be dead, though; I just thought that I shouldn't leave her just in case she was going to die). He said something around the lines of "Dude, just leave and have your own life." He was right, but I really couldn't have left my mother like that. I just find it sort of ironic that he is also now dead, and I had no idea that anything like that would happen to him. To be fair, though, he had a vibrant personality that while it made him a very pleasant person to be around, it didn't really fit his age. He basically acted like he was 20 or so by the time he was 26 (not that he did stupid things; he was just very jovial and didn't take many things seriously), and there was always a part of me that wondered just how he would be when he was about my age; looking back on it, I honestly couldn't have seen him seriously being my age, not that I thought that he was going to die, though. He was my brother's age, which makes it pretty odd, to say the least.

I was on that one medication for two days in order to decrease my drinking, and it was strange. The first day, I felt all calm and almost euphoric, and I was kind of mildly dissociated, having the strange thought that we are just put on this earth with no purpose or plan, and no roles to act out, and no restrictions to our behaviors, and yet all of us seem to instinctively feel that all of these things exist in our lives, and that we are here for a specific reason, when we are not. On the second day, however, I felt like I was going to have a heart attack right after I took the dose, so I had to go into the ER. They did a check-up on me and also did an EKG, and I turned out to be fine. As it turned out, the medication gave me an anxiety attack that triggered some psychosomatic symptoms, and I freaked out over it. I don't feel ashamed because it was the first time anything like that happened to me, and I hadn't been to the ER in well over a year in any case. The physician acted surprised that I was on the medication in the first place due to me telling him how much I was drinking, and he said that I seemed to be very motivated to stop drinking and that I should try doing it without any medication. According to him, I don't seem to have a significant alcohol problem.

For days after I stopped taking the medication, my head hurt, I felt dehydrated and I was all-around miserable and prone to anxiety. My hair also seemed to fall out from it. I just felt like the medication had too many negative side effects, and that it was overkill. I didn't drink enough beer to seriously warrant a medication to curb the usage and the medication made me feel way worse than any hangover I ever had, with the exception of one during MTSU.

This is really the first time my psychiatrist has ever made a serious mistake. She must be really conservative with substance use, and probably believes that I have more problems with alcohol than I actually do. I ask people around me if I have problems with alcohol, and they say no and fully admit to drinking more alcohol than me. One of my friends privately felt that I should have never been on the medication, I later found out from him. It was just plain reckless that my psychiatrist would put me on such a serious medication for such a minor problem (if it is even a problem at all), although to be fair she didn't push it on me and it was my idea to try it out. She really can't be fully blamed.

There is one good thing that came from it, though: I quit smoking. It has been three days and I've only had the slightest cravings; it has been way easier than I thought it would be. I decided to quit because it was too expensive, it wasn't good for me, and it made my anxiety worse, so as such I did what I did. I don't regret it at all; if I control my drinking, I will now have a lot more money to save up for important shit or emergencies, for you never know what is going to happen in your life.

Not too much else is going on. Playing Final Fantasy XII for the first time in eight years, and that has proven to be pretty fun. Also trying to read a bit so that I will have enough knowledge and opinions to write one of my papers, although I wonder what the point of writing them exactly is nowadays.
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I'm back on SSI! Or at least, I got my payment for this month, however delayed it was. This is wonderful; it means that I don't have to worry about my lifeline anymore.

I had coffee with my father yesterday at the old house, and that was pleasant. I gave him a copy of my book Threads of The Mind (he asked for one) and he was pleased; he paid me for it, even though I told him that it wasn't necessary. Everyone who has read it has told me that I'm a great writer, but back to the coffee thing (I actually had tea). He noticed that I was a lot less angry and looked like I was in decent shape; we both agreed that it was likely because of the gluten-free diet that I've kept going for three months. I do feel better on that diet; less fatigued, more mentally sound, more healthy, better digestion, etc. All in all no drama was had, and it was a good talk. We talked for about forty-five minutes.

I had some Chinese food at the commons today; it made me not hungry for several hours, however it wasn't that great and it probably did have a little bit of gluten, despite trying to pick foods that didn't. I don't like Chinese food as much as I used to; it doesn't make me feel good. I was slightly out of whack emotionally after I ate it, but I managed to control myself and use reason to calm myself down. I still love Hot and Sour soup, though; I'd make my own if I knew how, which I sort of do.

All in all, I'm trying to be a little more "pure". I don't want to do drugs for a while, with the exception of nitrous oxide (because it is fun and relatively harmless, and does wonders for treating anxiety). And I don't drink very often anymore, and when I do, it is only three beers. I don't even masturbate as often as I used to, anymore. That was actually a problem for a while.

This, is to prepare myself for a ritual. I'm planning on summoning a spirit familiar; I more or less got the ritual down, but I still have to gain energy in order to do it. I think that it will work. I'm going to utilize word squares for it, as taught in The Book of Abramelin.

Things are looking up.
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Still smoking, although I feel that I should cut back soon, if not quit altogether. I got a pack of smokes early this morning and when I went up the hill to my apartment, I was nearly out of breath. But I did walk longer and up the same hill and more later that day when I went to the university and I was more or less fine then, so I don't know.

I saw my psychiatrist today. I told her that I stopped drinking, but that I was smoking now. She was a little alarmed, but she did admit that it was a sign of progress, in that I realized that I had a problem and that I was trying to find a substitute. She asked me what other substitute I could use (she couldn't think of any on her own). I told her that video games might work; she laughed and said that it was worth a try. I could sit down for a few hours a day and play my old systems while sipping an energy drink, I guess; I used to do that when I was younger. I have fond memories of that, but all in all it is only good to do that when you're just really bored (oddly, I don't get bored as often as one would think; I entertain myself through introspection and daydreaming).

I've been having these weird dreams over the past week or so where I go back to school (either high school, community college, or graduate school) and I fail miserably in the classes. In one dream I forgot that I had a biology test, and I was fretting over how to take it. I think that such dreams illustrate two things: that I am afraid of failure, and that my mindset has changed so much that I would no longer perform well academically, although I dare say that I'm more intelligent than I have ever been, outside of perhaps memory. Last night I had a dream that I went back to community college and that I had a really small, single apartment. I think this represents the introduction to independent adulthood that I was never granted in my late teens and early 20s; that kind of fucked me up. It wasn't until I was 28 when I had any semblance of an independent life, and I really only started acting like an adult when I was nearly 30.

My third book, The Threads of the Mind, is almost done. I basically have to wrap the sixth chapter up and then write a conclusion. After that, I'm going to revise the parts I haven't revised yet and then design a cover for it. It will be self-published on and I'm going to hand out autographed copies to my friends (I have roughly five of them). One of my friends is really impressed with me; I should be happy and proud, sure, but writing a book is something that almost anyone with enough time and effort can do. I'm going to write more soon afterward.

Other than that, not much is happening. This September has been nowhere near as fun as last year's, but the next months might get better.
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Not a whole lot has been happening. Both my friend and my therapist have been gone, so I've sort of retreated into this ultra-negative mindset that seems to empower me, but at the expense of being a decent human being. I honestly think it is kind of cool, but I really can't be like that all the time.

In any case both are going to be back this week, so hopefully I will get back into good spirits.

The diet is working somewhat; I do feel less tired, although I was pretty tired today. I have been thinking about going back to work in the distant future, but that will require me to move. Not only that, it seems that I'm still disorganized and distracted without the fatigue, so as such it may not be the best idea. Oh well, it isn't like I'm just wasting my time right now.

I'm going to try to stop drinking alcohol; it will be somewhat hard, though. Fortunately my health isn't bad from it, but it can really only go downhill from here if I decide to continue. I just have to find a way to replace it; meditation might work, and I've been having more success with that.

Other than that I'm just dealing with internal pains and hatred, as well as reading a bit on Satanism. That is a surprisingly diverse religion. I've sort of gotten into I-Ching, and my Occult knowledge seems to have expanded a bit. But outside of that, not a lot is going on.
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So it turns out that SSI won't be giving me my monthly paycheck because I'm basically not wasting their money.

Mind you, this isn't permanent, however I really need to get it under the limit of $2000 as soon as possible.

Most people would love to have this problem. My roommate says that people would be jealous of me. But honest-to-God, I don't know how to spend it. I know that I will have to get a new laptop (this current one is half-buggy and 6.5 years old), and I know that I should take a trip to the Washington Coast to visit the old haunts like I said I was going to, but I still have no urge to spend money.

I guess that I'm one of those retarded people who has a lot of money despite having no income because they never spend it.

I do feel burdened, but I feel more frustrated more than anything. I used to be really angry, but now I'm somewhat amused that they actually gave me MORE money while I was trying to get it down to the limit and now I'm not going to get my checks for a while. That doesn't add up in any logical sense. And all of this, was the result of me actually being respectful of their money and therefore not spending it so horribly.

There have been some good things as a result. New t-shirts of anime characters, in order to be "ironic". A used PS3 and some cool games, although I've only played two of them (Dragon's Crown, by the way, is just as awesome as I thought). An emergency supply of food, and some Belgian ales. Basically, I'm living a life I wouldn't normally live, and doing things I wouldn't normally do. Many things can be said about these purchases, but at least I can say that I don't regret them.

All in all, I sort of want to work again. Being on SSI has a lot of limitations, but I need it if my chronic fatigue can't be treated and if I will be discriminated against (as I have been).

So...what else? I don't feel the anxiety anymore. That haunted me for a while. I have sharply reduced my alcohol intake, replacing it with visual meditation. I also don't eat gluten anymore, or at least I'm trying not to. As a result, I'm not as tired, and in better shape. I'm starting to get pretty good at the meditation, and have started to see minor visuals, but I still have a way to go.

I have gotten all the stuff that I cared about from my Dad's house while he's away, and I was looking through my keepsakes. As it turns out, I look and act completely different from when I was in high school/college compared to now. Granted, there was some awkward middling period where I was sort of an embryonic form of my current self back in MTSU and the following year, but I'm distinctly different from my youth and young adulthood.

And you know what? I like what I became, and I sort of resent how I used to be. I've come a long way, and even though I was mediocre at best and then warped into an infantile sperglord for roughly eight years, I got back on my feet and I became someone who I can actually like and respect. Not many people can look at how they are now, and like what they see in comparison to how they once were. The fact that I have made such progress and can look forward to better times, rather than have then behind me is solid evidence that I've made something out of myself, or at least I will sooner or later.

The funny thing, though, was that when I was growing up with my family, they basically made me a black sheep and said that I had all of these defects and problems. Well, looking back to how I was, I was really not that far from normal. I was simply an obnoxious dork who was warped by over-controlling parents; deep down inside, there was someone who was at least halfway normal. It couldn't be helped that my development was skewed, given that I had no proper role models, because my parents were complete freaks. But since my father was a doctor, and I was just a kid back then, all the focus and the blame was on me.

I don't look anything like I did in either my teens or even my early-to-mid 20s. To be honest, I like how I am both mentally and physically better.

Yeah, I turned out alright. Just need to find my place.
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I've been staying away from alcohol for the past week; I can tell that I'm already losing some weight, as well as not being so hungry and saving some money. It was important to do because it was making me more emotional disturbed during this trying time of the year, so I need to be as sober as possible.

I do plan on doing DXM on the next full moon, though, which is coincidentally just a week from my mother's death anniversary. But it will have been a month from not using it, so that is still progress.

I've been staying up later and waking up a lot later, too. I wonder if the abstinence from alcohol is doing that.

I bought some used books yesterday: one on hacking, one on parallel programming, and two on Theosophy. I think that it was the best score I've had in a while. I value my books than almost all of my other possessions, and I'm grateful that most people don't steal them.

I'm not sure if I will move to Portland. I probably will, but I was also thinking of other cities. I should think about it after the death anniversary.

In any case I'm still writing, although not as much, and I'm reading on Paganism. I don't really agree with Paganism in that it values the physical and the ordinary, mundane side of life, although it does stress that humans are not the center of existence, which I do agree with. Instead, I value the supernatural and the phenomenal, and chose to focus on things that are almost exclusively otherworldly and non-human. I guess that the term "Spiritualist" would be the better one to use for what I am by this point.

All is surprisingly quiet, and relatively calm. My brother is coming over two days from now and we plan on visiting our mother's grave on Saturday, which is the two year anniversary of her death. Oddly, our father will be gone on a trip with his girlfriend, which is both odd and insulting, but at least they won't show up together at her grave.

Worse things could happen.
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I've written 16,000 words now. In only nine days, I have destroyed my previous record/limit.

I went to the psychiatrist today, and they took my weight and blood pressure. It turns out that the diet is working; I've lost 7 pounds over three weeks. My blood pressure is good, too. I was really worried about my health recently, but it looks like it is improving again.

The psychiatrist was pleased with me; there wasn't a lot to talk about, outside of my writing.

In any case, I met with the professor of the class that I audited last semester, and he said that I could audit one of his classes this semester. Or at least, he thinks it is definitely possible. I might audit another class as well, on the Theory of Numbers, but that might be out of my field.

As such, I will probably be fairly busy during the next few months. It really is nice to sit in classes and learn about things; basically a stress-free way of being a student again. Sure, I'm not getting any grades or credits, but I don't need them anymore.
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The writing has slowed down somewhat (9,200 or so words now), although I still am writing every day. It isn't because I have run out of ideas, or don't know where the story is going. Just the opposite, actually; I'm adding scenes between the pivotal events and happenings in order to flesh out Saranna's character and thought processes.

To give her this background is essential towards developing her as a sympathetic character in the beginning.

I do, however, get the feeling that I don't quite know what I am doing. Or rather, how I am supposed to do it. It is my first "real" attempt at writing a book, and therefore mistakes will be made. There have been other attempts, but I didn't know the whole story of them, so those don't really count; I see them as being "exercises" more than anything else.

On another note, I have noticed a slight improvement in health since drinking minor amounts of beer again. I still get pains, but the chest pains and the GERD have calmed down somewhat. Maybe I just had an illness? Who can say; I rarely get sick but I'm not very young anymore, so my health could be taking a nosedive.
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Woo, I'm making a lot of progress. Been drinking beer again, but it is pleasant and if it is going to help me write and finish a book, then all the better.

I really do think I will get it done. It may even be well received.

In any case I will probably stop smoking cigars. They are starting to make me feel weird. I had one yesterday during the afternoon, and afterwards I felt ill. It really is a mixed bag; probably because the company who makes the cigars don't have a high control on the quality. I get the cheapest cigars, so that would explain it.

I wonder how many of my books I'm going to give out when I get it published? I can think of about five people I would absolutely give copies to. I would even autograph them. I might be famous.
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I feel a bit better now physically. I think that the elimination of alcohol, as well as the restriction of carbohydrates, has made things less stressful for my mind and body. My eyes hurt a lot less now; my vision is still foggy at times, but I think that is a psychological thing.

Quite a few days ago I remembered someone I saw on OKCupid back when I was at MTSU, I think. I looked her name up at random and found that she's in the Seattle region, having a successful life. At first, I was a bit jealous and angry on the inside because she gets to have a successful life and I don't. But after thinking about it for a while, I realized that she has very well likely reached her full potential by now and probably won't become any more successful. I, on the other hand, may be a failure right now, but I feel as if I have a lot of potential to become something great in the future. I simply have to figure out how to become something great, and increase my chances.

Not only that, but she is also probably very lonely. Just because you are successful, doesn't mean you are happy, and vice versa. She lives by herself, as far as I know. That is somewhat unusual for someone about my age.

As such, just because one has found their place in society and is independent and whatever have you, doesn't necessarily mean that they are better off. But this could just all be some subtle defense mechanism on my part. I may want to think that I still have a future, when I do not.

Well, you can really only be sure about all of that when you are dead.
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I tried to eat two quarter pounders from McDonald's yesterday. I succeeded, but I thought that I was going to have a heart attack. Not even close, but I still learned the hard way that I shouldn't ever eat like that again.

Aging just kind of hits you like a brick. I mean, they say that it is gradual, and it very well could be in some ways, but in reality it sort of happens overnight. What you could have easily done a year or even months ago is something you would either have a hard time doing or couldn't even do today. And somethings you loved doing a small time ago suddenly vanish into the ether; I mean, who would have thought that I would suddenly lose interest in alcohol? Didn't see that coming.

Some people have it happen much earlier than me; I guess that I aged somewhat gracefully. It is the fuzzy period between 25 to 35, although you could say that it has sort of shifted to 19 to 30 due to the younger generation's poor life choices. Few escape it at 25, and none do at 30 (or a few short years later).

But I'm more or less content so long as I make the right choices and my mind doesn't falter. That won't decline in a while, so long as I don't fuck with drugs.

In any case I'm doing alright outside of that; trying to gather my thoughts, and seeing what I can buy with the little bit of extra money I have. I don't desire much; money stays with me for a long time.

I will be doing the 2013 Monthly Synopsis here, instead of LJ like I did from 2005 to 2012. I haven't posted on LJ in half a year, and probably won't ever. Nothing there but strangers, missing friends and plenty of enemies. At least here nobody fucking knows me.

August 2017

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