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I am still not drinking any alcohol, which is great. My therapist thought that it was impressive that anyone could stay way from it for that long. However, there may still be aftereffects from not drinking for so long, since my brain was just flooded with that stuff for years and now it has to readjust. Someone today showed me an image of brain scans of an alcoholic who wasn't drinking as opposed to one who was intoxicated; the sober one had low brain activity, whereas the intoxicated one looked like the normal control. I've always figured that alcohol was a form of self-medication, and that I was likely hugely depressed before I started to drink alcohol, but now I think it has gotten worse than it used to be, although I will say that I'm still able to function as an independent adult and I still seem to be fairly intelligent.

This month was a little weird. I used DXM for a while but I decided to stop, because for some reason it was making me very irritable and emotionally enraged for a day or two after I used it. This never happened when I was drinking alcohol; I think that the two substances operate on some of the same receptors in the brain, and as such when you aren't doing one, the other might start to have more intense effects. Back when I still drank alcohol, I would be very calm and peaceful after I used DXM; now, I have to restrain myself from screaming. Outside of that possible cause, I really have no idea why it is like this now.

I didn't go to the university today. I'm getting a vague feeling that the last friend that I have there doesn't want me around so much anymore, although she is still pleasant. It was time to move on, in any case, but I really should just gradually taper off, instead of not ever going back, ever. I had an excuse because I had to go to Pullman today, so I can just tell her that tomorrow.

In general, I don't think that I'm going to bother with people anymore. I mean, I just don't connect with anyone, even if they don't have a problem with me. I sort of realized that I don't have any close friends, and the few friends that I have would turn their backs on me if I crossed a line or two. It has always been like that, this is just how people are. I'm not angry at anyone or anything, I just can't feel for others anymore. It used to be that I could have a lot of hatred for people, but now I don't think that I can even hate anyone anymore. Maybe I could, but it would be too much personal investment and it is a waste of time. I still like living in the world, but other people have been kind of a disappointment, I guess. I didn't used to be like this; I was once someone who idolized other people and looked for mentors. But now, I can only look towards myself, for not only am I an odd person with an odd set of cultivated skills and wisdom, but no one else gives a shit, either. I feel that I became this way due to the neglect that I have faced.

I was thinking for a while that I was becoming less intelligent and I was losing my memory, but that usually turns out to be false. But it is always best to be on your guard about that.

I renewed the lease for this year. I think that it would have been premature to have moved this year, but if trouble happens with my father (which it might), then it might pose a problem. He is currently gone on his sailing trip with his girlfriend; they reached the end of Baja and sent me an e-mail that wasn't very grammatical, although it was better than the others. He then called me last morning, and woke me up. We talked for only two and a half minutes; the tone was pleasant, but he just wanted to know if he got any odd mail and if I had been doing the chores. He said that it was a dollar a minute to call; that isn't going to set you back very much, and he could have at least asked me how I was doing. I at least would have been polite (not that I wasn't). I'm pretty sure that this is pretty revealing, and if they come back from the trip I might not want to have anything to do with them.

I've actually felt very calm as well; sometimes I feel that there are no problems whatsoever, which is a first since I moved back here seven years ago. I think that it is because I have the security of knowing that my father isn't around, and I can kind of forget about the whole thing. That actually has been very nice for me, and I've realized that I can have a relatively happy and productive life if I finally escape all of this bullshit. Most people have told me "No, don't move..." but honestly, I've been here for years and have given everyone so many chances, only to become more burdened and calloused. Would it be selfish of me to leave? No more than everyone else has been, I think. And besides, I've just been unhappy for so long. There have been moments where I look out to a view while drinking a beer or a coffee, or smoke or otherwise am on some drug, and I feel a sense of beauty and peace, but in general these past seven years have really, REALLY sucked, and I finally have the balls to get myself out of it. Maybe I'm hitting my mid-life crisis early, but I really have no where else to go but somewhere else. I mean, why stay here, with all the broken hopes, promises, and painful memories? I just want to live somewhere else, and have a new life.
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Here is the 2016 Monthly Synopsis. A lot of people have whined, moaned and bitched about how horrible and miserable this year was, but for me, I feel that it was a decent enough year, although somewhat stagnant.

January: I use weed too much due to it being legal across the state line, and I end up getting all lethargic later on, as well as slightly mentally ill. I personally have no problem with weed, but I do feel that it should not be used daily or even weekly. I find out from a friend that I knew at MTSU that he had a heart attack from drinking too much; he is fine enough now, but it scared both of us, especially since a mutual friend of ours died in a car accident two and half years ago, and I didn't want to lose another friend. I also hung out with a former neighbor and his friend, and I was shocked about the different types of worlds that others live in.

February: I simply get too tired and depressed this month, and I think about my dead mother a lot. There still is hardly a day that goes by where I don't, to be honest. I also read a book where I learn how to meditate more properly, but it does wonky things to my brain. Very strange, because I do not personally remember this.

March: My friend who moved away later in the year found out that her mother had a brain aneurysm, and we were both really afraid that she was going to lose her mother. Fortunately, this did not happen, but she had to be gone for a long time.

April: I decide to stop taking Olanzapine, and at first it was wonderful, because I could finally feel things in life again and I didn't need to use drugs or alcohol to feel alive. Unfortunately, I hadn't really hit the withdrawal effects this month.

May: The withdrawal effects hit, and it was awful. I was disorganized, I felt like vomiting, I couldn't sleep very well, I gagged a lot, I had horrible moods, I had headaches that felt like strokes, I barely ate...just a lot of bad stuff.

June: The withdrawal effects mostly go away by this point, although I still have a lot of trouble focusing and sleeping. I'm pretty sure that my inertia started becoming more severe around now, although it has leveled off a bit. I definitely started reading a lot less around this point (I read only about 40 books this year, which is still impressive for most people, but under-performing for me these days).

July: My brother comes down a little earlier, and we see mother's grave. There were two horses next to the graveyard, and I was really drawn to one; she seemed drawn to me, too. It was really nice meeting that horse; that moment taught me that I can be close to someone. I also went to bars for a little bit, both with my brother and not, but I stopped pretty soon because it just isn't my thing anymore. I admittedly get a little paranoid this month, although it felt wonderful early in the month.

August: I decide to stop drinking alcohol, which has been met with mostly satisfactory success so far. Still, my sleep cycle goes hay-whack and I start having closed eye visuals when sober. The latter was actually really cool and I still experience this on occasion, but unfortunately I still have problems when trying to sleep, especially when I am drinking again. I'm sort of worried about that, actually.

September: My friend leaves for a better job and to live with her sick mother. I understood, and I saw her off. I gave her a Chick-Fil-A sandwich because I felt like I didn't give her enough when we were friends; she liked it, especially since she never had one before. Nothing else really happened, besides trying to deal with the absence of a friend. I also found out around the early part of the month or so that someone I knew online was schizophrenic and killed himself in a grizzly way exactly a year before; that was bizarre.

October: My friend came back and gave me her furniture; she and her husband delivered it to my apartment. They got an odd vibe and while she has talked to me again, it is seldom. I wasn't that creepy, but I will admit that I don't know how to be presentable in my private life, because I just am not around most people most of the time. I've been virtually alone for years, if not all my life. The furniture is a wonderful addition, though.

November: I start getting upset internally, and I end up drinking again, although not as heavily as before and not every day. I feel that this may have set me off further, and contributed to me being disturbed for a while. I turn 33, and I wonder just what the hell I'm doing with my life. My brother comes around, and we have a non-Thanksgiving dinner with my father and his girlfriend. It was a bit odd, although no one was mean or anything. Everyone starts to realize that I just don't do very well during this time of the year.

December: I still drink a lot, although I stop later in the month. There is also a bit more use of DXM, and I catch myself before it goes out of hand, albeit barely. I seriously like I'm losing my mind and am becoming retarded. Obviously, I don't think that either of those two are going to happen, but you never know. My brother comes down again, and that was good, and I have Christmas dinner with my father and his girlfriend, and that was decent. I have horrible sleep for some reason and I'm starting to get worried about it.

Not a terrible year; it was better than 2015, at least. Still, I can't help but to notice that I talk a lot about alcohol and drugs in this online journal, and that is depressing to me. I really don't know what to do about that, besides simply not do it.
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December was somewhat of an odd month. I was pretty emotionally upset for a while, and drank a bit more than I had in months. But I still didn't get drunk every day, and I've toned down on it again; in the past week, I've only had alcohol twice. I also smoke a lot less, which is good. I have a fairly strong resolve to stop those bad habits, because it is really hard to have them the older you get. Not to mention, that around my age it isn't seen as being cool anymore and you really just feel like a loser.

I figured out that the reason why I do these things, is really because I do nothing else. This is probably due to low self-esteem, and low energy levels. But the thing is, is that alcohol just makes those issues so much worse. And I have been doing that for years, and what has it done for me? Nothing, at all. Nothing good, at least. I don't completely blame myself, because if it wasn't for the toxic environment that I was in ever since moving back from MTSU, I wouldn't have done that, at least as horribly. Nonetheless, it has just sent my life to the sidetracks, and I'm going to have a hard time getting back on the right path. It is still not too late, especially since I have achieved things in life, but I honestly feel that the chances are low. Still, may as well keep on trying, because the only certain failure is to quit.

I feel that I will start painting. I have always wanted to do that, but hesitated, because again, fear of failure. As someone who has paid attention to surrealism and alternative art for about ten years, I feel that I have gleaned some inspiration, and I certainly have the drive. I will admit that I don't really know enough about technique, but I don't really fuss over the details; it is far more about the message, the greater picture. I feel that painting will keep me from drinking and will actually give me something that I can appreciate. I doubt that I will be absolutely wonderful at it, but I'm not trying to be famous; I have a genuine curiosity about it. The fear of failure is still there, but in reality, how can you really fail at it when you are only doing it for yourself?

My brother came over here a week and a half ago; we went to a restaurant that had all these fancy televisions in it, and then we saw Rogue One. That was actually a good movie; I was surprised, because I generally despise science fiction. It was great having him around again, and we both laughed a lot. I also had Christmas with my father and his girlfriend; that was nice enough, but I detected a mildly sad vibe from him. I asked them questions about the sailing trip (they are going to leave for it in a week or so), and his girlfriend didn't really have an idea about the whole thing, but I could tell that my father knew that they could realistically both die. It is a little disturbing, to be honest. My brother acts like nothing bad is going to happen, but I don't know.

Overall I've just been a little stressed and emotionally snappy and tense. I wish that I wasn't, although since the holidays are almost over, I feel that I will be back to a better condition soon enough.
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This month was really weird.

The election happened three weeks ago, and to my surprise, Trump won. I actually had a feeling that he would win, and even had a precognitive dream that he would win by a landslide (he did). Still, I had no proof, and I was a little worried at first, but when it turned out that he won, I was just happy that the other person lost, and that I won't have to put up with most of the liberal bullshit for a while. I spent several days afterwards in a euphoria, and I started drinking again to a somewhat greater extent. But after a week later, I burned out, and now I feel really shitty.

I didn't even vote. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway.

I turned 33 nine days ago. I was dreading it, but when I had my birthday, I felt relieved, but after it passed I started wondering if I was really living my life as I should be. I honestly feel really pathetic about myself. I have to admit that the past six and a half years have been a disappointment and I feel like I am damaged goods, although to be fair, I broke down a lot later than most people in my situation tend to. I don't really think about it anymore; 33 isn't that horrible of an age, although to be honest my life was a lot more fun back in my early-to-mid 20s.

I've been getting dreams that are a lot more vivid now, since my birthday past. I think that if you are still celibate every three years or so after you hit 30, you gain more magical power. These dreams often tell me things that I need to heed, like the one I had before the election. I like them so far, and I wonder how powerful they will get later on.

Thanksgiving was weird. I didn't even have a proper Thanksgiving, although I did get a nice traditional meal for free the day before on campus. It was at a cafeteria that I hadn't had a meal at in several years, and it was also the first time I had a free meal in a while. I was very appreciative of it. Two days after the holiday, my brother was in town and we all had dinner together; the two of us also hung out at the mall beforehand and went to a bar afterwards. Being at the mall with him was wonderful, and he bought new bed-sheets for me as a birthday present, but the dinner was a little strange and going to the bar was a little depressing. No one at dinner said anything horrible (at least not intentionally) but I had to wonder, "What would Mom think of this?" As for the bar, my brother chose a bar that I used to go to when I was in my late 20s; there was a bartender there that I hated and he gave me a cold glare, although it was not particularly menacing. I quietly told my brother for us to move upstairs because I couldn't stand the guy, and he acted like it was mildly humorous. I loved talking to my brother, but we only had one beer each and didn't feel well; part of that was the meal we had (it was too greasy, although not bad-tasting), but we although thought that the beer was a bit off. Not just that, but I got a really bad vibe from the place, and if it wasn't for my brother there, I would have freaked out on the inside. So obviously, we didn't get drunk, and it would have been inappropriate, in any case.

My brother left the next day, and he got home fine. He cleaned my floors when he came by in the morning, and that prompted me to clean my bathroom. It was sort of a big task, and I did do it, but it took me a while. I didn't even hate doing it, despite it being kind of gross; I just work too slowly, and it annoys me.

Other than that, few things have happened, I think. Time has passed very slowly, for some reason, and the fabric of reality seems to have been restructured in some way. But it is kind of nice, in a way.
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Another weird month that was a bit long, although it seemed to go by relatively fast in the beginning. I should probably update more, but that might not be necessary since not a lot goes on in my life.

I'm feeling a bit better. I'm not so emotionally rattled or upset anymore, but that just recently happened. I think that the withdrawal has gone away, for the most part; I still have problems going to sleep, but they are more mild, and I wake up a bit earlier than I used to. I decided to eat meat again, because my teeth were starting to feel more sensitive and odd (they still do, to a lesser extent), although that might have been due to the stress that I was going through.

Over two weeks ago, I went to Lewiston to have a dental check-up. They had to delay my appointment by a few hours, so I decided to check out the town. Lewiston is a relatively depressing place, but there are some interesting things about it; a lot of urban decay. It is a fairly poor, working class small city that likely used to be a bit wealthier due to the now non-existent gold mines around the region. I've seen the postcards of the main street of Lewiston in the 1950s, and I couldn't recognize it at all; it just seems a lot larger and more fancy. Oddly, that historic image looks more like the version of Lewiston that I have in my dreams than the current version. A lot of industry is there, such as an inland seaport, bullet factories and paper mills. It smells really bad. When I went back to Moscow, it was like entering the nice neighborhood of a run-down city. I hate the road that you have to use to go to Lewiston, because you have to go down a very steep decline on massive hills (practically mountains); many people have died on that road.

Last weekend, my friend who moved gave me her furniture. She was at my apartment with her husband, and it was a bit awkward for all of us. I told her before she came over that I should clean up, but she told me that it wasn't necessary. It wasn't that dirty, but it was pretty spartan (still sort of is) and I could tell that she and her husband got weird vibes from it, although it was relatively mild. They weren't disgusted, per se, but nonetheless I don't think I'm going to be hearing much from her again. If she was another person, I could understand, but she had known me for five years and I never laid a hand on her, and never will. I wasn't interested in her like that. I'm not mad at all, I just feel slightly violated; it wasn't like I had cartoon pornography hanging on my walls. To be fair, I might be over-interpreting the whole thing, and I can't clearly remember it, so as such it probably wasn't a big deal. At least the chair that I got from them is great; I use it to meditate, which I've been doing for about an hour each day. I think that is the reason why I'm relatively chill right now, because I've learned how to relax.

I talked to my sister today; we talked for about two and a half hours on the phone. She is fine but is highly worried about me talking about not being on SSI, which our brother was pressuring me to do. I told her that I wouldn't, but she was still insistent, and asked me what I should do with my time. I offered to go to a chess club, write an epic poem like Beowulf for NaNoWriMo, and to continue meditating. She approved of them, with the focus on the chess club because she believes that I should get out of the apartment more. She was also upset about other things, which was hard to deal with because I had triggered her unintentionally, but we resolved them, for the most part.

I really should never go off of SSI. I just have relatively low self-esteem, because despite my intelligence and degrees, I haven't amounted to anything yet. Both me and my sister were talking about our memories losing focus, and we both concluded that it was due to aging.

Overall I'm really not angry or upset. It is kind of hard to be, now that there isn't really anything to be upset about, as well as the fact that it doesn't do any good. All the times I've had anger, it just resulted in me having a lot more problems, so I just try to let it go now, unless if I have no choice. Since the visit, I've wondered about what I do in private, and if they are the right things for me to do (I don't do anything horrible or illegal). I now realize what if people knew about them, and how it would mess with me. There are people who make me look entirely normal, even in private, but nonetheless I do have to add that I am a little off. A part of me realizes that I should grow up and be a little bit more selfless, at least in focus. And as for the visit, I really just feel relief about it, since that will likely never happen again, and it really wasn't that horrible. If anything, she was probably just surprised that I live my life with too little possessions, especially given my upbringing. She did seem somewhat impressed with my book collection, though. Either way, live and learn.

For the most part, I have reason to be somewhat positive about the whole thing. Or at least, I shouldn't be negative about it.
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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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It has been about a month again.

Things have gotten better, I think. August has gone by surprisingly fast; July felt like it was three months cramped into one, whereas August felt like it was about half as long as it actually was.

I've been reading a bit more, which is good for me. I've also been drinking a lot less, because I no longer feel the need to anymore. I only have alcohol about once a week now, if that. It is too soon to tell if this will go on to be a better thing, but it seems promising so far. I also haven't done drugs, for the most part. Part of that is because I'm worried about my mental state, and most of it is because I no longer need either drugs or alcohol to feel high, or really anything else anymore.

I can't believe that taking myself off that damn medication brought about my actual improvement. I also can't believe that I was on that medication for about three years. I'm going to make damn sure that I will not be put on a medication like that again.

I think that my memory and my ability to speak fluent conversations has improved, but I have no serious idea about either issue. It is hard to know, because I don't talk much anymore, and what is the point of having a good memory when every day is almost the same? Or rather, how can you tell that you have a good memory when you live like that?

One of my friends is moving away in about a month. She has to take care of her mother, who fell ill almost six months ago. I feel pretty bad for her, but on the side of the same token, she didn't really like being here, so it is for the best. Not to mention that she's been here for five years and I've been around her for that long, too, so it is time for both of us to move on, I think.

I'm really starting to feel uncomfortable when I go to the university. I simply stick out like I'm an older loser. The library itself isn't an inappropriate location to visit, but I'm so much older than the kids that go there and they just look and act so young. I actually started to feel this way exactly four years ago, but it was only a subtle feeling back then. Now, I just seem like a creep that never made it in life, who has had all of his youth drained out of him and just wanders around like a ghost of the past. I really only have my past in this town, when you think about it, but at least I have something here, because no matter where I go, I'm not going to have any future. But when you think about it, I don't think that there is such a thing.

I really only go there to see another friend who gives me coffee. That's it. I really like that friend a lot, though, so I don't want to stop going in general, at least for a while.

I just can't relate to people anymore. I mean, they just seem to be a lot more stupid. I don't think that it is because I'm better than them, so much as that I simply read a lot more books and educate myself on the things that others are neglecting (mostly knowledge of the past). For several years, I thought that I was stupid and others were smarter than me, and perhaps for a time that was true, but now it is clearly the opposite. The question is, though, what am I going to do about that? I don't know if that question has an answer.

I just don't know anymore. At least I know what I want to write about now (or at least I have better ideas), however I'm not even going to bother mentioning them, because there is no reason to state them when I'll likely just drop them, like I do with most things. But I'm not bitter or depressed; my life is improving...I just don't know what kind of end it will have. I mean, it is obvious now that all of my opportunities have dried up, and I even took some of those opportunities and got nothing back, so...
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It has been over a month since I've last wrote here. I would say that I was lazy, but in truth I just had to wait a while in order to see what was really up with my life.

My brother came down here in the first portion of this month in order to see my mother's grave, but had to leave a day before the actual death anniversary because he had to work at his new job in Everett and didn't have enough tenure there to have days off yet. It was nice to have him around; he seemed to have his shit together and to be finally making the right decisions. He was really concerned about my mental health, though, since not being on Olanzapine has made me less focused in real life; apparently, I do fine on the phone, so he wasn't prepared for that. It wasn't my fault, and I'm used to my brother hyping up my so-called "problems", but I do have to admit that there are times when I have more difficulty finishing my thoughts, or not saying them.

We visited our mother's grave on the last full day he was here, and I was little made at first because he was taking his sweet time doing outdoor stuff with my father and his girlfriend. Looking back, I can still say that it was a little inappropriate. But we were fine together, for the most part, and being at the grave was a bit odd. It just felt like a long time since it all happened, and I didn't have much to say, although that isn't implying that I wasn't strongly affected. My brother laid some tulips at the grave, and then placed a picture of him and his current girlfriend (who vaguely looks like our sister despite being half Hispanic); I asked him if he was going to be with her for a while, and he said "I don't know." I honestly hope that he didn't inherit any of the fickle sentimentality that our father has, but at least I can say that my brother was honest about it.

There were two horses right next to the graveyard (the graveyard is in the middle of nowhere in rural Idaho). I looked at them from a distance for a few minutes, and they then took notice of me, and came up to the fence. I walked up to them, and I was pretty sure that both were mares. The one I approached was a tall, brown horse with gentle, brown eyes; I did not detect any negative vibes from her at all, which I sort of did with the other. I then petted her nose, and she made noises that she loved the attention, and moved her face closer to me. It honestly felt that someone genuinely accepted and returned my affection, which I basically never experience. My brother was there, and he got a picture. There were times where he was laughing about it. I asked him about two weeks later why he laughed, and he said that it was because I looked so serious while I was petting her. I probably was because I just don't know what to do in such a situation. I like to think that my mother set that up, to show me that I can be loved.

My father was in the picture, of course, but he never went where we went and he didn't say a word about my mother, except for one time where I asked him permission to have something off a table that had my mother's handwriting on it. That was really odd, but expected. He could have said at least something. I really wonder if most men can truly love anyone. I know that I have problems with that, but at least I don't use women as objects or resources.

Me and my brother went to a bar on the last night, right after we went to the grave. I think that we only went to two bars. It was pretty fun, but I meant to spend a bit more on my brother and buy him more drinks than he actually drank. I felt like I owed him, which I generally don't feel at all. My brother is maybe one out of perhaps three people in my life who I'd give the shirt off of my back for. After we left, it just felt really magical, like I was in my mid/late 20s again and the year was 2011. Several years ago there was a period in my life where I'd go to bars a lot, and it was halfway fun at the time but I would never do it now. That night did bring back fond memories, though, and reminded me that I still have a little bit of youth left in me.

The rest of the month was relatively uneventful. I'm reading again now, having finished The Magic Mountain and one other book this month. The former took me two months to read, partially because it was fiction and mostly due to the bullshit that I had to put with (mostly in my head, of course). I don't regret reading it at all, and if I find a cheap used copy of it, I likely will get one for myself, but I do have to admit that a lot of the lessons that you learn from that book are not the ones that most people seem to think exist in there.

I tried to go to the bars again, for social observation reasons, but I found out that almost everyone at the bars are the same. The first time at one bar, I ran into my old neighbor who I partied with months ago, and he was nice, but he and his friend were talking about how they beat each other up for fun and they were also talking about another friend coming who liked to beat up people who he thought were gay. The next day, I was walking up the road to my father's house and there was this overweight asshole in his mid-20s yelling at me to "get the fuck off the road". I wasn't threatened by it and it didn't shock me, but I wondered just how people are turning out these days. Is it possible that people are really that violent and I've just been oblivious up until this time? I am more aware of my surroundings and of other people, after all. Then again, nothing like that happened in my neighborhood until just then, so I don't know.

I also noticed a few days ago that there are people walking around who look like they would beat the crap out of you in an instant, and I'd say that I was paranoid about that, but then I went into another bar not even a week ago and I could see the bartender and the ID checker coldly staring at me like a bunch of smug simians. I got out of there, because I know better than to give any sort of place that employs assholes like that any of my money. It was also about personal safety, but I could have at least easily have harmed the ID checker, if it came to that. I don't think I should go to bars anymore, and not just because I don't have the money; you are far more likely to run into bad people if you do. I'm not a coward, I just don't want to bother with that shit.

Not much else is to be said. I'm just more aware of stuff, I guess. I was worried for myself, for a while, but I seem better now. And I'm writing again now, which is always nice.
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It has been almost a whole month since I last posted here. I forgot to visit this place until just recently, due to a lot of stuff happening.

On the 23rd of the last month, I decided to stop taking Olanzapine. I just felt that it got in the way of my emotions and the ability to experience pleasure in my life, and I was right about that. But what I didn't know, was that going off of it induces quite a nasty withdrawal, and I had no idea about that. Of course, I am well experienced with both taking medication and going off of medication, since I've been doped up for half my life. Despite this, the past few weeks have been somewhat hellish, to say the least, although there has been a lot of good, too. And it is also important to note that this is in no way my worst instance of going off of a medication. It is really only about the 3rd worst withdrawal I've had.

So, what is it like? At first, it felt wonderful. I felt like I could actually feel things in life again, and this is in fact true. I don't have to use substances in order to enjoy myself; I haven't used drugs in weeks and I hate smoking now, because it tastes gross. I still feel like drinking beer occasionally, but that is really only to calm my nerves, and I no longer feel the need to get drunk every day anymore (I don't even drink half as much as I used to). I can feel "high" just by being myself, and doing something as simple as looking at grass makes me feel grateful to be alive. Nonetheless, a few days later the negative symptoms started to appear. Headaches occurred, I felt nauseous, I was scatterbrained, I had horrible irritability, I had weird abdominal cramps, I felt that I was going to have a heart attack, I didn't want to eat, and so on. While I didn't want to off myself and I didn't feel like I was going to die, I still felt really sick, and I wasn't really myself for a few days. In some ways, I'm still not, for I'm not really able to be around people unless if I'm going to see people I already know. I was never an extremely friendly character in my full-grown adulthood, but my asocial nature has reached a higher level. I don't want to stop being friends with the ones I'm already on good terms with, but I have no desire to be friends with anyone else. I'm still polite, though.

I don't regret doing this, and the withdrawal effects have calmed down somewhat, but I think that I really am a changed person, albeit mostly for the better. Despite wanting little to do with others, I no longer have addiction problems (right now, at least), I feel happier, I'm more socially aware, I no longer have my delusions, I don't have violent fantasies, I'm usually not angry, and I feel like I'm finally taking the steps towards becoming my true self. I am a little less focused and perhaps a bit more paranoid, but I always was.

I think that I had delusions because the Olanzapine limited my ability to think in terms of associations and depth, and as such I became more frustrated and emotionally aroused when I couldn't figure out a problem due to that limitation. From that, I came to conclusions based on insubstantial evidence, something that I otherwise would not have done. But once I stopped taking the medication, I was able to finally face my demons, and I got over them, at least for now.

I told two of my friends last week, and at first they were worried about me, but now they are fine about it. I also told my brother three days ago and my therapist yesterday, and both were surprisingly supportive. I honestly feel that I'm on the right track now.

My brother told me that due to being medicated for half my life, beginning at the age of 16, I wasn't able to really establish my true identity, and now I can. I think that he was absolutely right about that. There were so many things that I did from then until now, that were the result of my brain being messed with, and thus me being confused. It was really tragic, if you think about it.

I might write a book about how I survived the "system", sooner or later. I'm going to give it a few months, though, just to see how things turn out.

Outside of that, I've been noticing some odd things in the world, but they are interesting things that make me wonder about the nature of existence. I might write about those at a later time, though. Right now, I'm just going to take things as they are, because it would be too soon to come to any conclusions.
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Wow, it has been almost a month since I last updated this journal. I guess that I sort of hit a lull.

In any case, not a whole lot is going on, although I get the feeling that shit might hit the fan soon. I mean, it will anyway, but I sort of get an odd premonition. My dad is still gone and I have not heard from him; he is rarely gone for over a month (although it is barely over that line), so I should be sort of concerned. What he is doing isn't really all that safe (hell, the drive to the place itself isn't safe), so it just be a matter of time. Who knows, though? I don't actually know the future; no one does.

My friend and former boss was gone all of last week, during the spring break for the students. I thought that it was odd, and no one knew where she was. Turns out, her mother fell ill and now she's still with her; it might be something serious. I feel really bad for her; she has kind of had a hard few months so far.

I hung out with someone a week ago, and smoked weed with him. I also drank one of his homebrewed beers. The beer was awesome, but the weed hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't go crazy, but it was odd to be like that around others. He wasn't freaked out by me (thank God), but if I'm going to do that again, I'm probably going to smoke less of it. Drugs are more of a solitary thing for me, now.

Speaking of drugs, I've decided that weed and DXM are pretty much going to be the only ones that I do from now on. Everything else is basically "been there, done that". Hell, I'm trying to quit tobacco and alcohol, too, because those two drugs are worthless, at least as a loner. But there is no trying, there is only a doing, that I have found out. I mean, if you really want to, you just stop. End of story. To say "trying" means that you will allow failure, which I can't anymore. Why should I? It is destroying me, physically, mentally and financially. Time to find some other outlet.

I just recently realized that while I'm still slightly young, I'm well into my thirties and I need to act like it. Fortunately, I generally do. I'm not immature, per se, I'm just lost because I didn't have many mentors growing up, my parents didn't raise me right, and I'm socially isolated, meaning that I'd had to figure things out on my own. I eventually do, but it has taken me a bit longer than anyone else. What was important to realize was that most people see me as either being normal or only slightly odd, and I was raised with others thinking that I was this huge problem, so as such I just don't know what to think of myself. But I'll move on, and I'll figure it out. Some things are already working themselves out, like a lowered sex drive, no longer playing eroge, and a general lack of interest in things that are a bit younger than I should be interested in. I never was really juvenile or anything, especially since I have a lot of sophisticated interests too, such as philosophy, spirituality, and academic writing, but I definite had a nerdy interest or three. Nothing hugely wrong with it, and I shouldn't get rid of it entirely, but still, don't want them to get worse, you know? And besides, growth is good, for the most part.

I think that what helped me with growing up is that just a few weeks ago I realized that being really angry or enraged doesn't do me any good; it just sets me back and distracts me. I can't believe that it took me so long to realize that, but better late than never. I try not to get angry anymore, and instead to just move on and avoid the things that I can avoid.

I've been wondering about living nocturnally. I lived a daily swing-shift life for over a year, so I know I can do it. Why do I want to do this? I get the feeling that my friends are going to gradually disappear soon, and I just don't really want to deal with others anymore. That might sound unhealthy, but I just want to be more productive with less distractions. During the day I have trouble staying awake, and during the night I have a hard time going to sleep virtually all the time. I'm wondering if I should live during the night, and if that would be better for me. Part of it is to have little to do with others, and the other part is to discipline myself. I wouldn't be able to drink beer as much, since drinking during you've just awoken is stupid and getting beer during the early morning is absurd. Not to mention that I can focus my energy on studying shit and finally getting more shit done. Perhaps I'm always drained by the people and the constant noise? I don't know, but it is worth trying out. I can always switch back, if I have to.

Overall, that is it. I want to write again, but I have to do a little bit more research, as always.
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I haven't used weed in a few days. It was making me emotionally unstable and it was also causing dissociation as well as memory problems, so as such I shouldn't do it again for a while. I don't mind being crazy at all, so long as it is controlled, but most of this crap is purely negative, so as such I need to take a break.

I'm still a little spaced out. I thought that I was getting better, but to be fair, I stayed up late last night in order to hang out with a neighbor out of politeness, so as such that might have something to do with it. I actually got up a little bit before one in the afternoon, which is pretty much unheard of for me to do. It was odd, because it felt like I had been up all day when in reality I have only been up for around eight hours.

Hanging out with my neighbor was...interesting. He's a nice guy, but when I tried to get them to listen to vaporwave, by the second song he said that he didn't like it. He said that it was "too sad". As a result, he showed me videos of punk rock; the music videos were awesome, but I couldn't listen to the lyrics (I have a problem with that) and all of the songs essentially sounded the same. I don't think that it sucks; it just isn't my thing. He told me that he likes it because it makes him happy, and it is like saying "Fuck you" to the world, which it sort of is. His friend showed me videos of Justin Bieber unironically, saying that he was awesome. I have to admit that Justin Bieber is a decent vocalist, but I don't listen to that kind of pop music. Overall, they said that my interests were strange, but they didn't dislike me. Mostly because I know how to pretend to be interested in something when in general I don't want to bother with it. But I suppose that it was good to see that side of life.

I talked to one of my friends from MTSU last week. I found out that he had a heart attack from drinking too much. That kind of shook me up. He is sober now, but he says that he has to learn how to walk again, and he pisses through a catheter. It was odd to find this all out because almost exactly a year ago, I found out that one of my other friends died in a car accident in the middle of 2014. And now this. I really hope that he will be okay; I tried calling him, but he didn't pick up and his inbox was full.

Currently I'm trying to form my own theory of consciousness. I think that I will be able to do it, at least partially. I'm reading some books to help me with my research. Most of my theory was formed from becoming self-aware of the mental changes in my mind while high on weed.

It is just so odd how people think that art imitates life, and vice versa. So many people who think that the music videos of partying and scantly clad women is real life, and as such they live it. I'm attracted to the things that don't usually happen in life, so as such I don't know what is going on when it comes to what others like/want/imitate through pop culture.

I have the feeling that some odd things are going to happen soon. Not bad things, but strange things nonetheless. Yesterday morning, there was hardly anyone on campus; that was bizarre to see. Today was fine, but I have no idea what happened. And someone pointed this out to me, too; it wasn't just a paranoid thought. I just get the feeling that 2016 is going to be a strange year.
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2016 has been...somewhat odd, to say the least. I don't think that it is going to be a bad year (at all, actually), but when I consulted the I Ching about what the year was going to be like, it said that I was about to be blindsided by something. So I should be careful about that.

But yeah, 2015 really sucked, looking back on it. I didn't even like most of the Vaporwave music that came out.

In any case, I have only read one book this month so far. I really should read more, but I just don't have the drive anymore. You can only do the same thing for so long; to be honest, it has gotten to the point where everything I read is something that seems like I've already read it before. It is a little nuts. I still want to write, though, but even so I'm a bit cautious about what to write and how to write it. I know that I can write, and that is the hardest obstacle to overcome I believe, but to be honest, I'm starting to think that I'm sort of full of shit. Not completely, but perhaps I'm not as smart or as original as I thought that I was. But whatever; if I'm not now, I might be later, for those two traits are ones that have to be gained and not given. But knowing that I'm not reading any more for now, I can't help but to feel that my mind is rather stagnant.

I was using weed edibles for about a week, and ate the last one last night. I thought that Sativa was making me crazy, and to be fair I did go a little nuts. I calmed down, though, and last night was perfectly fine, so as such I think that it is okay now to use them sparingly. They are fun, but probably aren't good for me in the long run. Nonetheless, I was given many insights into the human mind while being high. The odd thing is that normally I talk to myself a lot, but when I was high, I barely said a word for hours. When I told this to my brother, he couldn't help but to laugh.

Not much else is going on, unfortunately, except for the fact that I finally got internet at my apartment and I've been playing Shining Force for the Genesis. I'm not spending a lot of money, which is good, and I'm also trying to get my bearings for this year. I should be fine for a while, though.
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Here is the 2015 Monthly Synopsis. I've been doing this for ten years, although on this account you can only find them going back to 2012. 2015 was a weird year; it wasn't particularly bad, but it definitely wasn't that great, either. A lot of fucking drama.

January: I try to write an autobiography, but fail because it was just too painful. I find out that one of my friends from MTSU had been dead from a car accident for several months, and I sort of feel like a douche, although it was pretty surreal. I try to take Naltrexone, but quit after the second day because I feel that it was giving me a heart attack. Near the end of the month, I get the flu, which was the first time I ever did. It was very miserable and during one night I had such a horrible headache, I felt that I was going to get a stroke.

February: I decide to take a short break from writing, and I start doing DXM every other day, which was fun and educational at the time (I still don't have any regrets about it). However, I overhear my then-roommate talking smack about me in his room later in the month, and it completely changed the living situation. I was smart enough to realize that I was probably better off on my own by that point, but still too sheltered to realize that I was about to get kicked out.

March: One of my friends has her husband die on her, and the other friend had jury duty. I stop doing DXM every other day, and I confront my then-roommate about what I overheard. That was brave of me, but looking back that was probably what prompted him to kick me out so soon, although it is quite possible he would have done it anyway.

April: I start reading more and cooking more in the beginning, but then not only do our neighbors downstairs get their apartment ransacked, but my then-roommate decides to kick me out so he can live with his friend. I understandably slowly start getting very mad, trying to be quiet and polite in public but am fuming in private. Try to find other places to live, but have very little luck; this was the first time I was stressed since my mother was in hospice. I was able to write a 9,000 word document that someone sent an e-mail to me about, though.

May: I get some reflection of my past selves due to May being the anniversary months of me leaving MTSU as well as the beginning of my mother's hospice. I have bad allergies that make my body and brain very odd, and I get privately upset about my father due to not only him forgetting about my mother, but also for him making an extremely dumb, callous comment. I honestly feel like my life is at a breaking point due to the stress and the threat of homelessness, most or all of which could have been avoided if I didn't live with a douchebag who took his insecurities out on me. As it turns out, my then-roommate's plan to live with his friend didn't work out, so his clever plan justifiably blew up in his face. I start writing poems to distract myself, or at least I said that I did back then.

June: Find the place that I live in now, and move into the place near the end of the month. Nonetheless, I'm still pissed off and worked up for a while. Finish writing a book of poetry, although I don't really remember doing that. When my then-roommate confronts me about expenses that I couldn't afford, I actually scream at him out of pent-up anger; I felt bad about it, but at least I finally had some balls. It gets worked out, though, and I left the apartment uneventfully; my friend helped me move with his truck. I feel optimistic about the place because I had the belief that this place could give me the ability to make better choices for myself, and that actually turns out to be true.

July: I love the place that I moved to, and the lack of constant internet access actually makes me happier (it still does, for the most part). I met my brother's then-girlfriend, and she seemed okay at the time, despite later turning out to have a lot of problems. But I never saw that happen personally, so that is neither here nor there. I find out that my ex-roommate was stranded at the old place without roommates for a while when I paid him the money that I owed, thus he had to pay a lot more money due to his failed plan. I wasn't happy about that, but he did deserve it. I found out that my father put his girlfriend's dog to sleep, and that made me sad despite not being close to it (it wasn't a stupid dog, just very ugly).

August: My father tells me that they plan on going on a sailing trip down the coast of Mexico, which I think was very foolish, especially when they tell me that they don't care if they die on the trip. When I told my sister about the first part in a worried voice, she at first didn't get why I was upset, but when I added the second part, she flipped out and said that our father was saying stuff like that when he wanted to die. They haven't gone on it yet, but they are still preparing, and I can't stop them. I start to drink only every other day, which I still do and I have since then sharply reduced my alcohol intake. I also get into Existentialism, which I believe to be an interesting school of philosophy.

September: Not a lot happened. A guy at my apartment complex disappeared, and there was a fuckload of empty tallboys of malt liquor in his apartment that had to be removed. It made me think about my potential future.

October: My father tells me in a roundabout way during dinner in front of his girlfriend that they are going to get married. This makes me privately very upset, because he promised my mother on her deathbed that he would never do that. My hair falls out and I feel like I am dying, even though I'm not. I think about both moving away to different town just to get away from this crap, and to get a job at Orange Julius so that I can save up for a move. I do try the latter, but I get denied. I start to realize that I really don't fit into where I live anymore.

November: I turn 32, and the week that my birthday fell on was very slow and odd. It made me think about my life too much. I had dinner with my father and his girlfriend, and while it was a good dinner, it was odd to be around them. It made me start to seriously consider that most people just have relatively shallow relationships with others, and can replace just about anyone in their lives.

December: I start to get worked up and manic in the beginning of the month; for a while, my life felt magical again. But eventually, it calmed down, and now I'm back to my basic, depressed self. My brother came over for Christmas, and that was great. He broke up with his girlfriend, and I find out many things, one of which being that his life was threatened once. He now understands to never get involved with any woman with kids again, or at least he seems like it. I offer for him to move in with me, which he might do, but he will probably find another place to live. In any case, I start wondering about the fallacy of love, the fact that being alone is what is best for me, and how my friends will get fewer and fewer over time. Probably the same old shit.

Wow, that was actually a really hard year. I'm surprised that I ended up doing so well. I had to put up with a lot of fucking shit.
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I'm fine now, for the most part. The mania wore off about a week after I last posted, although it still shows up occasionally.

Christmas was uneventful. Nothing bad happened, and my brother came over. It was kind of nice, actually. Me and my brother went to a bar the night before he left (he was here on Christmas Day and the day after), and we just got mellow and started talking stuff. He broke up with his girlfriend and is going to move away from her soon, which is a good thing because while I liked her when I saw her, she is apparently disturbed and has two kids. My brother is now able to see how it was a dumb thing to get into, and how others told him that as he was doing it, but at the time he was blindsided by "love". Well, I won't get into that whole topic; I have already said my piece about it before.

I actually got a lot of stuff. I didn't ask for anything, but I still am grateful for it. I got my brother, my father and his girlfriend some Moonpies because I can't really afford anything else.

I will likely get the internet at my apartment very soon. It is about time that I do. I had a nice break from it, and now I think that I can handle myself pretty well.

When my brother told me about the break-up weeks ago, I offered for him to live with me for a while. He said that he might take up the offer, but I think that he will move somewhere else (Portland or Everett is my best bet). It will still be okay if he does, but I think that I mostly offered because I felt lonely at the time, which is a weakness. I was willing to compromise my personal security and space just to not feel alone, and while it would be worthwhile to sacrifice that for my brother, otherwise that would just make me pathetic. I now realize that I am better off alone, for I do not risk anything or compromise anything when I am. I prefer being alone, anyway; it was odd for me to be lonely like that. It does happen, but it has been a while, and it is often very fleeting. I think that most of the reason why I am alone is that I cannot relate to others, do not emotionally depend on others (well, at least the vast majority), and cannot really make any deep connection. I wish that I could, but I can't. What I have noticed is that people who are social are generally shallow people who live on the surface of life and pay attention to pop culture and whatnot; I want nothing to do with that. I don't even think that I'm better than other people; they have their flaws, and I have mine. And I am quite flawed, otherwise I wouldn't want to be alone in the first place.

I kind of realized roughly two weeks ago that all of the friends that I could ever make, I have already made, and they will get fewer and fewer. One of my friends confirmed this when I told her; she is about twenty years older than me. I don't want to get to know anyone around me or be friendly with anyone I haven't already been, unless if I am drunk. I don't quite know why, I guess that I'm just becoming more jaded, more distant, and just more content with myself. Most people seem to have flaws and problems that I don't want to deal with, not to say that I don't have any. I don't want to become a jerk, but I feel like it will be soon when I'm no longer so openly nice anymore. Part of this whole thing might be that I'm around people who are a lot younger than me, and I don't have a lot in common with those people.

I've been having messed up dreams recently that have been very vivid. Last night I dreamed of me watching an odd movie and groping younger women while I pretended to be asleep. Kind of creepy, but at least it reassures me that I'm not gay.
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About a week ago, I went a little nuts. I don't know why. Obviously, I didn't go to psych ward or anything, but it did catch me way off guard. I think that it happened because I was starting to lack empathy for everyone, and the God inside of me wanted to have me humbled. It was odd, too, because I was beginning to question whether or not I really was disabled; now I know that I certainly am.

I just ramble on and my speech is a bit disjointed (my writing, not so much, but it requires a lot of concentration and focus in order to write in an intelligent manner). My creativity is higher and I feel like a genius, but I believe that this may just either be a sense of grandiosity, mania, or both. I'm seldom manic, so I don't really know how to handle it. It is kind of fun, though; despite being under psychic stress, life seems magical again. My life hasn't felt magical since 2013, so this was welcome; I figured that my life forever lacked the luster and the intrigue that made it worth living, but apparently not. I've been a little paranoid and have thought about ways to hide from others off the grid, and there are times where I think of myself as a part of a government think tank (which would probably be my dream job), but for the most part I know what I am.

It is hard to get my bearings right now, though.

I was talking to my friend today, and we were discussing how most people lack empathy, and can't put themselves into other people's shoes. I told her that I could, but she said that I'm not like most people. I think that this is the reason why I have so many problems; I'm around others who simply aren't as emotionally developed as me, I think. Even the intelligent ones, seem not to put too much thought into the inner dynamics of the mind, and the situations of others. I do feel that I'm a bit smarter than others, but that is because I had to work for it, not because I was born that way. Growing up, I was made to feel like I was an idiot, and I was seen and claimed to be an idiot, not just by my classmates (and some teachers), but also my family. There was a period of roughly four or five years where I was the "family embarrassment". It took me the better part of a decade to become as wise and relatively decent as I am now.

The thing is, though, is that I don't want to think that I'm so much smarter than everyone else. Partially, because I have flaws of my own, but mostly because I really do try to see the good points of someone's mind. But the simple fact of the matter is that people just don't want to use their minds and become more educated and wise; they just want to settle for simple mental heuristics and labels, because it is far less mentally taxing. I just don't understand why even the professionals are so cognitively lazy, when they are the ones who should be putting their minds to the grind.

I can use it to my advantage, though. I'm starting to finally see how people tick, and I can gain from such valuable insight. I have a business plan of sorts that utilizes simple online advertisements that have a simple message but are so politically and emotionally charged that people who don't like to think very deeply would click on it; it would take them to another site with ads, thus generating a profit that would gradually accumulate. I have to learn more about how it works in order for it to work, though, but knowing how I could potentially get rich off of other people's simplicity (or to bluntly put it, stupidity), it is pretty morbidly entertaining for me. I don't really want to focus on money, though; this is more of a game to me than anything else.

Well, I suppose that I should try to get better, if that is what is best.
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My birthday was last Friday. I'm 32 now.

I feel okay about it; I was prepared for it, but last week was a very slow week, for some reason. My therapist told me that I don't do well around birthdays, because I reflect and think about my life. Obviously, this causes me to get depressed, since outside of getting a Master's degree I am almost a complete failure. My therapist has seen me go through about five birthdays, so she knows what she is talking about.

The odd thing is that I really don't despise myself. I truly do enjoy life, at least slightly. But I just feel like I am not on the right track. To be fair, though, it may be possible that I really am better off how I am now, for my therapist has seen many people do fine on SSI, and then decide to get a job again, and then they fall right back down. I'm on SSI for everyone's sake, not just for my own. I can get pretty scary, at times, although I haven't acted like a freak in a while. Being able to minimize the stress in my life makes me stable.

To be frank, I'm amazed that I'm still alive and relatively functional. I've had a messed up life.

I had dinner on my birthday with my father and his girlfriend. It was surprisingly not bad, and the food was delicious. Nonetheless, it was still kind of weird to be around that. I just wonder if people really can replace loved ones like that, without much feeling or thought, and have others think that it is perfectly normal. Are relationships truly that shallow, or can others truly not stand being alone? My father couldn't even last a year by himself, whereas I have live a life in almost complete isolation, at least psychologically. I just don't know. I don't have a lot of faith in humanity from all of this, but I think that it is best to simply not think about it. It still makes me wonder, though.

Around a day after my birthday, I came to the realization that I've felt like multiple different people in my life not because I am complex, but just the opposite: I am vacuous inside. People who are empty on the inside are easy to fill up with an outside identity. That is what happened to me in my teens, when I was falsely diagnosed. And then it was forced down my throat, and I was treated like a retarded baby, and I simply didn't ever figure out who I was, or how it could be otherwise. All of that is gone, of course, but no genuine identity has sprung forth to replace it. And I don't think that any ever will. But is this really the same for anyone else? I don't know. A lot of people are pretty vapid, even those who you wouldn't think are. Not that I'm any better than them, outside of my self-awareness; I'm just a loser on SSI.

Oh well. At least things are not entirely boring.
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I could say that nothing happened over the past month, but that would be a big fucking lie. Would have been true until about a week ago, though.

I was over for dinner at my father's house last Wednesday, and he brought up in a lateral fashion that he and his girlfriend were getting married. There were a fair amount of clues, so as such I knew that it could have happened, but the way that he brought it up with his girlfriend right in front of me was emotionally manipulative. I couldn't look him in the eye or tell him that it was wrong (which it is), but I was able to expose him as a liar to his girlfriend, saying calmly that he told my brother that he wasn't going to marry her (which he denied) and that mother never wrote because she thought that he would never remarry (he replied by saying that she did, so I'll have to look into that). And I didn't even mean to expose him like that; nonetheless, it is pretty obvious that he was either lying all along, or decided to go back on his word. I have caught him lying about benign shit multiple times over the past year or two. And even if he didn't plan on lying, does that negate the fact that you can't trust someone who goes back on their word, let alone respect them? I don't think so.

Of course, I told my sister about it. It was hard to do, but I had to; it would have been wrong otherwise. She felt angry about it, but was very reasonable and controlled; she was not hysterical at all. Her main concern was that the house and the belongings might go to another family, which is very possible. I brought up the facts that our father was writing prenups, thus potentially meaning that they wouldn't, and that he told me to make a list of the things that I wanted after he died. She was pleased about the latter, but added that if he dies the prenups won't matter, especially if the house is going to be in the girlfriend's name. I don't know if there is anything we can do about it; it could be worse though, since that house wasn't the one that we grew up in. Still, it is a family resource, and it shouldn't be handed down to a stranger's family just because some divorcee from a lower background married a DOCTOR who was too weak and desperate to stand on his own.

Our conversation was perhaps the most important one I've ever had, or at least one of them.

The day after, my brother called me. He did say that he talked to our father, but didn't bring up the remarriage. I could tell, though, that he was slightly upset; I might speaking too soon, but I think that he is finally starting to see our father for who he really is. He asked me if I wanted to move to where he is so that I could be closer to family that I get along with, and I said that I was now thinking about moving (which is true). I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was worried about me. He also wants me to get a job, which I am thinking about. SSI wouldn't be enough to live on where he lives, and it isn't meant to replace a paycheck in any case. I just applied to Orange Julius yesterday (I have a friend there) so I might be lucky in getting one.

I probably will move. It is just becoming intolerable to live here. Not just my father, either; I've simply been here for too long. I need a change, to leave the past behind me. I've been here for six years, and the people around me just keep getting younger to the point where I don't fit in anymore. I feel like I'm just stagnating here. I could stagnate where I want to move to, as well, but at least I'd be doing something different for once. It is just a matter of money, I think, but that can be remedied over time. I should start getting rid of some of my stuff to prepare for the move.

It is just so bizarre, this turn of events. I can't do much right now, because I'm just dealing with all of this bullshit. And none of it is my fault, either; not a single bit of it has been brought on by myself. I'm being too civil and calm, if anything. But it is like this: I wake up, not really knowing what is going on. Then, after about half an hour, I start to realize the reality that I'm in, and after about an hour I get to the point where I'm so sad, angry and disgusted that I want to scream and vomit. My father is a disgrace to the family, and I'm not alone in thinking that. This whole thing is practically a waking nightmare, one that I never would have thought would happen when mother was still alive, because at the time I bought in to my father's lies. But in fairness, I always knew that he was very weak on some level or another...simply not as weak as this.

Oh well. Nothing I can do about it. Just have to prepare for my own life away from this whole ordeal. I'm done with it now. We never going to be one big, happy family, especially when mother is just replaced like this.
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It has been a while.

Some stuff has happened. For roughly three weeks, I've been taking DXM every other day as an experiment. This was prompted by Rite Aid having a "Two for One" deal on their syrups; I enjoyed this for a while until I learned that I could buy three bottles of gelcaps for only three dollars at the local Dollar Tree for an indefinite amount of time. I've been learning a lot about the nature of DXM, as well as the nature of myself and my mind. For instance, it seems that you don't receive messages and visions from entities and spirits from without, but rather they come from your own subconscious. Essentially, you have more than one mind and self, and perhaps your mind has a mind of its own that you are usually unaware of. When you take DXM, you remove a lot of the barriers between your consciousness and your subconsciousness, and as such you can learn many things that you otherwise wouldn't. It is possible that you do become more aware of spirits and entities from the outside as well, but for the most part it is all you.

There has only been one time where I had a bad experience. That was the last time I took it, three days ago. I decided to take DXM right after I took it the day before, and I noticed that even on low doses I was getting strong visuals. When I took the last bottle of gelcaps, the euphoria and dissociation went away and my body started to heat up, with my eyes feeling odd. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and I saw that my pupils were very dilated. I sort of panicked and thought that I got serotonin syndrome, as my legs were also twitching, but after a few minutes it became tolerable and I rolled with it. The visuals were awesome and among the most crisp I had ever seen, however I had a lot of anxiety and the trip wasn't very enjoyable.

I'd like to find other ways to explore the subconscious, but DXM is simply too fun. Outside of my last experience, I don't regret what I have done, although I should probably tone it down a bit.

About two weeks ago, I caught my roommate talking smack about me behind my back. It was stupid of him to have thought that I couldn't hear him talking on the phone, especially when his room is right across from mine. He was just going on about how he's sick and tired of hearing me talk to myself and laugh to myself, and that he has to clean up my mess. The first part is slightly understandable, however the second simply isn't true. He is the one who makes most the messes around the apartment, and there was one time where he didn't do the dishes for six months. Not to mention that he makes me wait around for well over an hour whenever I give him rides for his errands (I give him rides in exchange for him doing the dishes, which he rarely does) and just drags his feet in finding another roommate; I've been paying barely affordable rent for almost a year. He doesn't eat my food, which I am grateful for, but he has been very grouchy and unpleasant over the past few months and we don't get along as much as we used to. I feel like a fool because I have told him things that I now in retrospect should have never said, and I trusted him. He's always been weird, but I tolerated that, partially because I'm weird myself, partially because I'm a tolerant person, but perhaps mostly because I was simply too sheltered. I've only had three other roommates besides him. I don't regret living with other people, but I think that I have lived with him for too long, and now it is time to get a place of my own. I just need to figure out how.

Two of my friends were gone; one has her husband in hospice and the other had jury duty. The one who had jury duty is back now, and I have talked to her a bit and have confided in her about my recent troubles. She really is someone who I can trust; before she left for jury duty, she accidentally told me that she loved me. Of course that was an error, but I was still touched by that. I hope that my other friend is okay; I know what it is like to have a loved one dying, because my mother died more that two and half years ago. Odd that I lost my mother when I was only 28, but if she wasn't dead I'd still be living at home, not as grown up as I am now. Just goes to show you, that most clouds have a silver lining.

I collected some selected poems that I wrote from March of 2013 to March of 2014, and I'm going to write some philosophical and psychological interpretations of them. I plan on self-publishing them under the title Psychotic Poetry and Their Philosophical Interpretations; it will be great because I haven't written any books in a while, and I feel like I should. I haven't read as much books recently, but that will likely change in a few weeks.

Outside of all those things, nothing else has really happened. But a lot did, when you think about it.
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I'm in a better mood now, and I don't feel so down about my life or anything like that. I had a realization about a day after I wrote the last entry that I just felt the way I did because I was doing the same thing over and over again, and not really going anywhere. I wasn't really going anywhere because I wasn't doing anything new; how can you explore the vast realm of life when you keep on going to the same places on the map? In order to feel less like a loser, and to have greater capacity to do great things in life, I have to try out new things. That's it. And fortunately, I'm starting to do that right now.

There is also the whole thing about life being a means rather than a predestined end, or at least, that is how it seems to me. Life is about doing as the things possible to reach the end that you want to achieve, and then perhaps another and so on. There is no particular end chosen for you, at least not from the outset. So as such, one should take solace in the fact that they have the freedom (hopefully, at least) to work towards their desired goals, and that means that one should try all avenues possible and prevent oneself from doing the same thing over and over again, because that is akin to banging one's head repeatedly against the wall.

As such, I'm going to take a hiatus from writing; it takes up too much time and while there has been some reward, it has been all intrinsic and I've kind of hit a plateau. It is very hard to be a successful writer these days; very few publishers would even look at what I've written and while I do have the option to self-publish, I wouldn't get much attention from that. I still will write books again some day, but not right now.

I'm still going to read books, though. I need all of the information that I can get and need to keep my brain from stagnating, even if most of the information isn't immediately practical or rewarding.

So, what will I do now? I already know: I'm going to practice programming again. I finally have a sense of how to do it, and I have chosen a language to use in order to begin messing around. I will use Pascal first, but if that proves to be too impractical I'll switch to BASIC instead. Both languages are very simple and you can't really do a whole lot with them, but I'm not looking to construct some very serious and powerful programs just yet. I want to start small first, and not be too serious in my endeavors; not only will I be more able to have fun with it, but I'll be far less likely to become disenchanted and frustrated with it if I run into problems in the beginning. If I treat it has a game, as a source of amusement, then I'll probably be more able to be productive.

I'm doing this in order to learn something practical and constructive. If I get experienced enough, I will be able to to actually create some new, interesting things, and maybe someday I can create a program that will catch people's eyes. But nothing is guaranteed and I just want to create some new works of art, anyways. Either way, I'm doing something both interesting and useful. Eventually I can move on to a better, more powerful and complex language, if I'm smart enough.

Nothing else is happening. Pretty quiet around here.
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Life is somewhat quiet again.

I've successfully stopped drinking so much; over the past week I went from drinking four beers a day to three, and now only two. I like beer but it is kind of expensive and I want to do other things with my time. Don't get me wrong, I still like getting drunk every once in a while, but I honestly think that I should move on from it.

I've been getting up really early for some reason, sometimes as early as 3:00 AM. This would be perfect for me to practice astral projection, but for some reason I can rarely force myself to go back to sleep; I am just too alert. Half the time I just stay in bed until around 7:00 AM, but the other half I get up a bit earlier and then leave for the university. I do get a little tired when the day is half over, but I seem to have a bit more energy these days. Just a few days ago I cleaned parts of my room and decided to get rid of some books that I'm never going to use. I should get rid of other stuff, because there is a possibility that I could end up homeless, and then where would all of my stuff go? It is better to prepare for the worst, even if it never happens.

When I usually wake up early in the morning, I get these odd thoughts that I'd usually never have. They have revealed a bit to me, and just recently I've kind of figured out just how wrong it was for my father to have done what he did. I mean, get rid of virtually all reminders of my mother from the house, have some woman I barely know move in with him after only being in a relationship with him for four months (she's trying to sell her house, too) and having the whole house rearranged, with him acting all fake and superficially happy, while trying to go back to his old tricks of controlling me? It is offensive, and it spits in the face of my dead mother. She loved him so much and made so many excuses for him, and now look what he does. My mother never wrote a will because she believed that my father would never be with another woman (I'm 90% sure that he promised that), and he practically betrayed her. She also wrote several letters for him on her deathbed for him to open after she died, and none for either me or my siblings. It all spits in my face, too. I'm just pretty angry, now.

My brain feels better now. I can write a bit better, and I don't have as much anxiety. I'm starting to write again, on how people think about the meaning of life. It probably won't be perfect, but I enjoy writing it so far, and I feel that it might be worthwhile. I'm also going to write another thing, sort of a fantasy/erotica novel with a tongue-in-cheek bent; don't know when yet, though.

I wanted to do DXM again so badly, but I stopped myself two days ago. I got a warning or two from my I Ching readings that it would have blindsided me and set me back, so as such I have decided to not do it until after I write the first book, if I do at all for a while. I mean, I know that I will do DXM again; it is just too much fun and highly intriguing. However, there is still a slight chance of it fucking with my brain, and I should keep the usage of it to a minimum, for I'm in my thirties now.

Hopefully things will be quiet for a little while longer, until I want things to get loud again.

April 2017

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