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I don't know if I really want to write about my real life online anymore. It just seems foolish, although I never really revealed too much, or at least, no one really noticed from my real life. I'm not like most people these days; I keep my real life completely separate from my online life. There are virtually no exceptions to that. Most people aren't like that these days, though; they have active twitters, instagrams, and so on that gives complete strangers a window into their everyday lives. I never understood the point of all of that; not only does it make you vulnerable, but I was never really connected with anyone to begin with to share any of my personal details, let alone my daily life. I honestly find it strange that I even had an online journal for so long when pretty much no one cared about me, online or off; I think that there was a time when I genuinely wanted to have online friends, but a long time ago I stopped caring but I still had one just to serve as an archive of sorts. But why should I continue to do so, when not only does nothing go on in my life, but I wouldn't either care or want others to potentially know about that as well? It doesn't make sense. Not to mention that the government collects personal data on everyone these days, but I'm probably low-risk.

Just...I don't know. Why did I even bother? I'm not even saying that out of anger. It is just that I can see how my life played out over time, and despite being kind to everyone and be relatively likeable at first, it was just so obvious that no one really cared about me or thought much about me. And over time (really just a short amount of time, over just the last two or three years) people started getting openly hostile and unfriendly towards me when previously they wouldn't have been that way when I was just a little bit younger, and this usually includes people who used to know me from years ago. I used to have a fair amount of charisma, but now everyone sees me as a freak for some reason, even when I try to be nice. I just don't see the point in being nice or outgoing anymore, and I don't care for anyone outside of perhaps my siblings, because I know that even the handful of people who do like me now will turn their backs on me sooner or later; history has proven this, even when I did nothing wrong. I guess the saying "Friends come and go, but enemies accumulate" really is true, and to be honest I'm simply surprised that I found out about that when I was so young and in such a relatively short amount of time. Over nothing, really.

I feel that I should just stay in my apartment now. There is nothing for me in this world, really. I'm a lot happier and more productive when I'm not around people for a long time, anyway. Whenever I'm outside on a regular basis, I just feel so drained. I'm not mad about this, just irritated. I'm actually pretty relieved because for the most part, I've let go of all my expectations of others and my life, and I've discovered my true nature: someone who doesn't care about others, wants to be alone, and just wants to be as he wants to be in private. I don't care about helping others or putting on an image anymore, because even when I did that I realized that it was a fruitless endeavor and people didn't like me, anyway.

This may sound like I'm depressed, but I'm not. Sort of the opposite, actually. I've just seen what can, and cannot be. I still like myself and I like being alive, but I don't like being around other people. I knew this for a long time but other people fed me crap about how it would be bad for me to stay away from others; well, they've never been in my shoes, where people are going to look down on you no matter what. And I feel great by myself. Not to mention how the people who told me that, are either now my enemies or have moved on. And now I'm done.
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So things are a little bit better, at least personally. I still have some minor money problems, but they will get resolved sooner or later if I don't spend too much on beer or tobacco. I'm still not using DXM or anything like that; I haven't completely sworn off of it, but it is better to wait for a time because while I wasn't addicted, I was probably using it too much. So far it has been almost thirteen weeks since I last used DXM, so that is good. In two more months, I will be abstinent from that for the longest I've been since 2014, which is even more good, provided that I follow up on that, which I should.

There have been odd things going on outside of my personal life, though. There have been gigantic demonstrations and fights between ANTIFA and pro-Trump supporters. I despise ANTIFA and they are becoming way out of hand, making even neo-Nazis look like "the good guys". There have been massive rallies on both sides, although the alt-left has been far more violent and hypocritical than the alt-right. None of this would have been foreseen as little as two years ago, and I'm somewhat scared, I have to admit. Which side will win? Hard to say, but it will likely be those who lean towards the right because almost everyone is fed up with ANTIFA by this point, who go so far as to enable gangstalking, beating up old ladies, and inflicting serious bodily harm. They haven't killed anyone yet as far as I know, but that is likely because as individuals they tend to be very puny and can only be menacing in groups, like the cowards they are.

The eclipse happened last Monday, and over here it wasn't that impressive, but the sky did darken quite a bit and the shadows of the trees got much larger so that was cool to see. I stayed indoors and I did not expose myself to the sun due to being afraid of the eclipse having negative effects on me, but when it happened I got into a trance-like state and everything became very silent inside my head. I have continued to have these states and it is very interesting; through this, I think that I have discovered a way to become more adept at astral and mental projection, although I am only starting to have success with that. I distract myself with analytical thought while I do it, which happens automatically, and it is sort of a huge task to learn how to turn that off for a few moments. I feel that my mind evolved that way over time because I had to depend on over-analysis in order to not end up in deep shit in my life.

I am starting to write again, although right now it is just an outline. Most of the time, I run out of energy to write anything, or lose interest, or just plain forget, but with this outline I feel like I have made a format that could seriously bring any project to greater fruition. It still needs to be fleshed out a bit, but I feel it won't take long to do that.

For most of this month, I was privately angry, feeling like I had no place to go or anyone that would want me around. This was made a bit worse when the students came back, and all the sudden there were more cars that I have ever seen in the parking lot before, all because the young students want to live with their girlfriends. While I have never done that in my life, I wasn't especially jealous; merely very irritated and annoyed because it just reminded me how abnormal I was in life. I mean, I know that it isn't my fault, for the most part, but why did I have such bad luck so far? To have everything fall apart? I don't know...maybe it isn't just me. Speaking of students, there indeed don't seem to be as much, although I don't go to the university anymore so I can't speak first-hand. There have been a lot of loud noises recently, and three days ago some young kids were throwing the construction traffic cones onto the main highway. I actually called 911 on them and a few minutes later, a cop showed up on the road and put them back in place. I talked about it with some people at the smoke shop yesterday and asked them if they had noticed any odd behavior recently, and they said yes, and it was due to the students. I added that it used to be nothing like this, and one added that the student population has changed and that kids now become drug addicts before they enter high school. Very odd, and these people are at least ten years younger than me (the clerks), so for them to be making a generational comparison is strange. I feel that things are starting to fall apart, at least in the rural regions due to a declining economy. Crime has risen around here and many buildings and businesses seem to be falling apart, and I feel that this is because the university used to provide a viable economy, and now it doesn't. Of course Moscow will be around for a long time, even if the university dwindles away, but nonetheless a lot of things seem kind of grey around here.

From talking about being detached from others on reddit and how it has contributed to my supposed cognitive decline, one person told me that I should post something on the strictly platonic section on craigslist. It seemed a little risky at first, but then after a few days I did, and I did get some replies. It was very odd that after that, my anger and irritability went down considerably, and now I am not so upset about my life anymore. I am currently talking to one person and she seems really nice, although I'm not sure how it will end up; it is too soon to tell.
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This may or may not be my last update.

These past few months have been weird. I'm not in any serious danger, since I don't really do anything wrong, but it just feels like I've been living in the Twilight Zone since the last incident. Everyone is just so judgmental and overly sensitive these days, to the point where I really do need to not bother with anyone and just go somewhere else. There is nowhere else to go, though, at least not right now. And there is nothing I can do about people being the way they are right now, so as such I just need to keep a low profile and stay indoors.

I hate it. I mean, I don't hate myself, I don't hate my life, I just hate how the world is right now (at least my neck of the woods). Things have just gotten so odd; my brother was over here for my mother's death anniversary (fifth year) and it was fun to be around him, drinking Rolling Rock together in my apartment and beating him at Street Fighter II on the Sega Genesis (out of ten matches, he only won twice; that surprised me since I'm not good at those games, either). But even he noticed that things were off back when he walked back to my father's house because he was too drunk to drive (I told him not to); he noticed on the way back that there were a lot of closed businesses and there were, indeed, a lot of cop cars around, which I had warned him about. The cops were everywhere for about three weeks, and even others noticed that. They are mostly gone now, but I still wonder what the hell that was all about. My brother just chalked it up to a lack of students and crime rate going up. The first part is definitely true (you don't see a lot of students anymore, even during the school year, although there are a few younger people walking around at night, for some odd reason), but I don't know about the second. I certainly hope that isn't the case.

I am drinking beer again, although I only drink about two beers every other day and I rarely get intentionally drunk anymore. I do smoke, though, and that sort of bothers me. I don't think that I'm going to die from it anytime soon, but I still don't like it. At least I don't have any reason to think that I'm irresponsible with alcohol anymore, especially since I hate it half the time I even have one pint.

I somewhat overspent this month; not too proud of that, although I think it was because I was depressed. I don't even spend that much; I just have very little money. I used to buy coffee a lot, but now I get it with EBT from Winco, and that stuff is surprisingly decent. If I sell some of my stuff and watch my finances, which I'm normally good at, I don't think that I'll be in any deep shit. Most who would see what problems that I currently have would likely roll their eyes and think "You have got to be kidding me", because most people have way worse problems. But it does kind of irk me that even the typical poor can afford to have a nice dinner at a restaurant at least twice a month, whereas I can't. Sucks.

Moscow seems to be shrinking to me. I can't go to the university (still don't want to talk about that, but it wasn't my fault), the bars are all filled with overly sensitive types who were nothing like that as little as two years ago or less (with the exception of one, but I only go there when few people are in there, because it small and almost always crowded), I don't want to go to the churches (wouldn't do any good, anyway), I don't want to go near the house that my mother died in if I can help it (the fact that my father married some stranger who got most of my mother's stuff doesn't help), I don't want to go to Starbucks (too expensive, too crowded, and the people there are too liberal), and even the smoke shop that I regularly go to probably isn't that welcoming any more. Someone there innocently told me that a guy that I knew of for years is leaving, and I innocuously asked him about it the next day; he got all strained and quietly mad, but I mistook it for him making some sarcastic joke (he had done that in the past). As it turns out, he's getting fired. I have no idea why because he is educated and worked there a bit; I merely told him that someone told me and he said "Yeah I know. I'm not happy with that person." I looked over to the other dude, who never seemed to have a problem with me, and he shook his head and mouthed "It wasn't me"; the man I was talking to wasn't looking, so I just quietly nodded. Having the wisdom to get out of there, I told those two that I hoped they had a good day, and the other dude (the one who gestured "It wasn't me") sadly said "You too." As such, it would be a good idea not to go back there anytime soon.

It sucks. I can't get close to anyone anymore, not that I really wanted to. I told this to my friend (really my only one by this point) and he confirmed. I told him about the incident and I asked him if it was my fault. He said that some of it was my social awkwardness but for the most part, it was simply me being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I came to that conclusion before he did. I told him that now he knows why I want to be a hermit, and he fully understood.

I was reading some of my former entries here, with me talking about friends. I have no memory of anything like that now. Odd how you can forget your friends or what you said or did with them, because they all (or at least most) will stab you in the back eventually. I think it is for two reasons: I am an older man who doesn't have any status or money, and I'm out of any social networking loop. I was tolerated at the university because I once had people there that would "support" me, but once one moved away, the other gradually turned away. I'm not really that creepy, I mean I don't hit on anyone and I don't talk to people I don't already know, or at least know of. I guess being an older nobody is enough to offend people, even though I did occasionally say some off-color jokes to my so-called "friends" (I did that for several years though without incident before THE CHANGE, so it isn't my fault). That one "friend" who turned on me? I knew that person for six and a half years, and that one never did anything about it until this year; nothing I did until early this year was any problem at all, or at least that person was very good at pretending, giving me free coffee and shit. I talked about that to my therapist, my only remaining friend, and others, and they were baffled. Just a bunch of liberal intolerance and bullshit at its finest. And I feel that it will likely just get worse, because of the narcissism fueled by social media. People really have to get their fucking heads out of their asses, I mean I eventually did, although when no one else does, all you can do is run or hide. When the other side takes power (the alt-right, and they likely will, sooner or later) those people won't know what the fuck to do. They wouldn't run and they'd be too stupid to hide, even if they could by that point. At least I can still do that.

Of course, other stuff happened as well, but I don't want to talk about it. Mostly about how my father acted during the death anniversary; acted bizarre during the cookout the day prior to it and when we were at the graveyard (my brother invited him, what an idiot...) he never said a single word about my mother, and didn't even look at my mother's grave that he's also on until my brother caught him not looking. He then just did the same stuff that he did last time he was there, in 2014; just completely unmoved and pointing to my brother our relatives. It was completely inappropriate, and I told my brother that I don't want him there again. Of course, he saw nothing wrong with it. At least they didn't go on some hike or fire guns in some backwoods road, although that was only because my father's new wife had a doctor's appointment. All the time I was there, my father never said a single word about my mother. He even forgot about it until I brought up that my brother was coming down a while back; this happened as soon as 2015.

Now you know why I can't get close to people. All relationships barely have anything genuine behind them, if they do at all. I learned that the hard way, but I did adapt to it, at least. Admittedly, the growing pains are quite painful indeed. You really do go a little nuts when no one cares about you, but no one really cares about anybody, they only pretend. Young minds aren't used to that, though; they have to have the illusion that the world is warm and welcoming. Breaking the false image into reality can drive one insane, but I'm used to that by now.

I don't know what I want to do anymore. I sort of sworn off drugs and I'm not quite passionate about anything. I've been thinking a lot about how I should continue down this long (or not so long) course of life and I do need to change a bit, because I was pretty juvenile for a while. I don't really want to do anything for anyone; not primarily out of selfishness, but because I'm just so used to seeing people giving me bad looks in the streets, including some people I had known in the past. Why help anyone like that? Other people just look like bags of flesh to me; I don't even hate them, I just don't feel any attachment, and wisely so. I wasn't like that when I was a bit younger; I wanted to know more people and know more of the world. But there is only so much that is worth knowing. As for the bad looks, even two years ago it was different; I can recall one person openly giving me the evil eye in public. In fairness, I think others have caught me looking at them wrong, too. At least I'm not spineless.

On the lighter side of things, I do like playing video games and I discovered that Appian Way Pizza, while it is messy to make and looks gross when made, is actually very cheap and delicious, although probably not that great for you. I still want to do things with my life, but I have to focus on the here and now, rather than be in some imagined dreamy La La Land where I have achieved all that I can never achieve, ever. Sad thing is that "now" doesn't provide much, although it is still better than just a dream.
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This has been an odd month.

I now no longer go to the university. Something happened there; it wasn't my fault and when I told everyone about it (I told them everything about it) they were shocked that it happened to me. I don't want to go into too many details because I'm trying to move on in life and it really isn't that big of a deal. I just want to forget about it and close that stagnant chapter in my life. In retrospect, I really should have never hung out there after my business was done, but people kept on telling me that it was no big deal and I really had no other place to go. Little did I know, that people rarely tell you the truth. I just got so many bad vibes from that place for roughly two years, but I didn't know what to do because everyone kept on telling me that nothing was wrong and giving me false support. I don't miss the place at all, and to be honest I'm really not that angry (I was for a little while, though), but I just feel like I wasted so much time in my life, and now I'm paying the price. I really don't know where to move on in my life, although it could be said that it was too late before I even worked there.

It is strange because it is like I now physically and psychologically resemble the person who came back from MTSU in 2010 more than how I was just months ago. That is nice, I guess, but I'm still lost. I'd say by this point that the only real differences between how I am now and how I was then are that my face is more tired-looking, I no longer take anyone at face/surface value and I'm a lot less likely to act like an idiot. Those are really the only differences I can see. In a way, I have a new lease on life, but where to I go? Where is the plan? I know that I have to work for it, but I worked during graduate school and those two measly jobs and I still didn't get anywhere. I have all of this intelligence, and yet everyone thinks that I'm trash. They are likely to say that I was trash before they rejected me, but it is really the other way around; I've simply been too many different types of people.

Just...I don't know. Everyone is angry and I'm the scapegoat. Too many weird things are happening, including cop cars blaring and speeding during the broad daylight, suspicious loud people at night, and even one time where I almost got hit by a semi. Of course, they aren't out to get me, but this stuff almost never happened. This place used to be safe; I used to be able to go out at night with no problems up until now (my previous job required that). Now, I wouldn't dare, even though I'm mostly nocturnal now. People are just acting so strangely. Most others would just say that I am crazy, but I tend to notice things and immediately accept them, whereas they do notice as well, but just brush it off. It has gotten to the point where I barely want to go out for a smoke at night anymore, even though that in and of itself wouldn't do much harm.

Other than that, I'm practicing astral projection a little bit more and I'm actually a bit calmer. Living at night makes me feel at ease and I'm a bit more focused. I also have more energy, for some odd reason. I haven't done a lot with my time yet, but I'm also getting into programming so I might be able to do a handful of things. I have the intelligence to do it, but not the discipline I think. I wouldn't say that I'm lazy; it is just that my mind goes into overdrive and I don't really do much in the real world. I'm in fucking La La Land half the time, and the other half I'm either doing light research or playing an old video game. I wish that I did have a job, but I'd probably be overwhelmed, especially concerning that I'm now used to having so much time on my hands. I don't think that I've squandered either my mind or my life, but I did start off on a path with innumerous obstacles.

I feel, though, that I will do something significant someday. I'm simply too intelligent and motivated. But nothing is for certain, and it would be fair to say that if I was capable, I would have already done it. Everyone sees me as a loser, and I feel that their opinion is accurate.
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Still not drinking. Everyone is a bit surprised by that. I'm not surprised myself anymore; I've had odd thoughts about alcohol on rare occasion, but no need to drink. I'm no longer so disgusted by the thought of it, but it just like a childish waste. In the past six or so years, I drank enough for me to know what that is like, and I shouldn't drink like that again. Of course I will have beer sometime in the future, but I would like to wait until the year passes until I do so, unless if I'm with friends, in which I might have one or two.

I now take Vitamin B supplements and Magnesium in order to recover from the drinking. It is working very well; my memory is relatively sharp and I have more energy now. I still have problems with focus, but I feel that I will have better focus soon. Honestly, I thought that I would never recover, but it seems that I might have had a vitamin deficiency all along. Maybe there is something intrinsically wrong with the way I convert food into energy, because I've always been sluggish in my life, although it was worse when I was doped up in my late teens/early 20s.

I now cook. I use the oven in my apartment, and it is pretty nice. I didn't use it until almost two years after I moved in, because I was paranoid about causing a fire. But I know better now; I like cooking because it makes me feel like I can make my own food and take care of myself.

I've been reading a lot more now; it is almost to the pace that I had before I went off of Olanzapine. I feel more productive and I'm also a lot more focused and motivated to write again. I've started to write a draft on mental imagery and it seems promising, but of course I might stop writing again. I think that I might follow through with it, though, because I'm very passionate about the subject and my mental imagery abilities have improved quite a bit in the past few weeks, so I'll try my best.

I'm smoking again, although not by much. I know I should quit, but I don't smoke anything with artificial chemicals in it, so I should be fine for now. It seems to help with mental imagery somewhat. I'm not too bothered by it because I tend not to be addicted to it unless if I smoke for months, and I usually quit it pretty easily. It doesn't make me want to drink alcohol anymore, either, so that is nice.

My father called me a little less than a week ago, and he's going to turn around and come back home, although he doesn't know when he'll get back. I'm no longer so angry about it, although I don't know what to do if he does come back home. Anything could happen, either way. But I've really enjoyed the quiet of my mind at this point; odd things are going on around here, sure, but I don't have any real personal drama right now. I haven't felt at peace for many years; I'm just not angry anymore right now, no reason to be. I'll save my anger and my mental illness for when something disturbs me directly. Right now, I don't want to disturb the quiet.

My friend is coming back for a day or two, and she's going to give me her TV with a built-in VHS player. That is really cool because I've wanted to obtain a VHS player for a while and now I can. I'll have two TVs by the time I have it, and it will nice to hook up some of my older consoles to it. I don't have a lot of space for it, but I'll make space. It will also be nice to see my friend again; she seems to be happier now.
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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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2017 has been good so far, but I feel that I might need to keep a low profile.

There is one very good thing: I have stopped drinking alcohol and smoking tobacco. I have been clean from those things since the 30th of last month, and I don't want to abuse those substances again. Oddly, I do not have any sleep deprivation anymore; I tend to get tired earlier and I often wake up in the early morning automatically, although I usually go back to bed since I'm still very tired.

I have gotten kind of depressed, though. The type where you are afraid of sitting down, because if you do, you are afraid that you might not get back up. While I am psychologically sad half the time, most of the time it is just a lack of energy. But I'd rather feel like that than to feel nothing at all, so as such it isn't too bad.

I'm actually very surprised about how easy it is to not drink and smoke. I decided not to do those things anymore because they were making me poor, and I also realized that I had been getting drunk almost every night for over six years and it didn't solve any problems. In a way, I feel like I'm back to square one (before I drank constantly, in my mid-20s), but I also am starting to think that I am older than I actually am. I just recently turned 33 and I'm already saying that I am 34; it is strange.

I met a guy at the co-op a few weeks ago and we started talking; he asked if he could see my writing and I said sure. I sent "Threads of The Mind" to him, and he really liked it. We then decided to talk about it at the University, which took place two days ago. It was a little awkward, but I still liked talking to him and I was flattered that he wrote a bunch of notes about my document. We talked for over an hour and a half; it was actually pretty cool. We'll likely talk again sometime; he has actually motivated me to write again. He isn't as articulate as me, but he's very open-minded and seems to understand when you explain the material.

My brother seems to be more busy with his life; we don't talk on the phone as much anymore. He does a lot of stuff with his girlfriend, which is okay, but I guess brothers move on after a certain age. My father had me read the bills to him on the phone; he is leaving on his sailing trip in a few days. His girlfriend also had me open stuff, and I found out that on her life insurance, my father is the primary beneficiary. She has two daughters, so that seems a little off. I don't know what to make of it right now; I haven't told anyone about it.

That is about it. I am thinking about moving to another apartment in town, but I have no idea how to do that. I might not be able to, but I'm starting to get a bad feeling about living here. I want to move away from the town, too, but this year isn't the right time for that.
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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 a while. I don't post too much, because a lot of things go on in my head, but little to nothing goes on in my life. I would bore most people, because they care about what others do, not what they think.

In any case, the withdrawal is practically over. All that is left is the nausea and the inability to go to sleep early, but that is minor. I don't feel sick at all, and I'm starting to feel more healthy, because I barely use drugs anymore and I am quitting smoking and toning down on my drinking. I only use two drugs now, and I only use them about once a month. I don't like how I feel after I've done them; due to not being on Olanzapine anymore, I feel like an emotional mess, and I'm sometimes in mental pain. Well, I'm growing out of it, I guess.

I am still drinking, but not as much as I used to. It did pick back up for a little bit, but I toned down again because again, I don't like the way it feels when I overdo it. And I'm quitting smoking because I had no idea that a Black and Mild had about 10 to 15 cigarettes in them. That made me feel like an idiot. Fortunately, I'm having good luck with quitting, and I don't them at all most of the time, so as such I'm better off without them. I've noticed that I'm in a much better place emotionally when I don't smoke, which is usually the opposite for most people.

As for everything else, I'm starting to be interested in law school, because I've been thinking about family matters, as well as what I went through when younger, and that has motivated me to make sure that this stuff doesn't happen to others. A lot of people say that if you want to make changes, you become a lawyer, and I think that I can. I've talked to people about this, and they seem to think that I have the proper motivation, and that I could do it. But I have to wait a while before the monitoring period ends (about three more years), and I have to make sure that I know what I'm getting myself into. It isn't too late for me; I'm not that old, and the fact that I have a Master's degree already would put me in a favorable position. There is only one friend who told me that she was worried about it, and that was only because she was afraid that I didn't have the focus to do it. She even admitted that I would have a better chance getting a job from law school than I would from pursuing a PhD. I know that there is a surplus of lawyers these days, but that only mildly applies to Idaho, and not as many people seem to go to law school anymore, anyway.

I've lived in this apartment for a little over a year now. It is like I never lived at the other place, or almost anywhere else, although I still have dreams of living in Pendleton. I can still remember living there, but I don't really feel like I did. I'd rather forget most of it, to be honest. The last year there was very unpleasant.

Well, on with it...
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I'm doing alright. Most of the withdrawal has calmed down or gone away; I still have problems going to sleep, eating enough, and having nausea, though. I can suck in my stomach very well, and my nausea is so bad that I sometimes gag for no reason at all, but for the most part I am not suffering. About a week ago, I gagged in front of a young lady who is a clerk where I like to get my smokes and beer, and both her and another girl laughed. She actually did an impersonation, but when I told her why I was doing that, she felt bad for me.

I can't really drink alcohol too much anymore, and I sure as hell don't want to do any drugs. Partially because I no longer feel the need to, but mostly because it just seems so degenerate and unhealthy. I really need to grow out of doing that stuff. I've said in the past that I have felt like an immature douche for doing that for so long, but this time it has really hit me hard. I have only done drugs twice since I went off of Olanzapine, and they were light doses. I did not really like how they made me feel; it was more like an mediocre distraction than anything else. I can still see why I did that, since drugs used to be the only way for me to feel anything, but now there is just no point to it anymore. I still drink beer, but only two or three of them now. I can't even handle a 40 oz anymore, because it will make me vomit; only weeks ago, I could handle six pints, and now that just seems insane to me. I still can't believe that I used to drink that much every day.

Outside of that, my mind is a bit more scatterbrained, but on the side of the same token, I feel just as intelligent as I used to, if not more so. I'm just less pointed and focused in my thoughts, I suppose, which is sort of bad but at the same time, it can lead to greater creativity. I also have a lot more energy now, which is odd, but welcome. I've been able to actually clean my apartment and rearrange stuff; I vacuumed the floors (that was a first), sorted through my possessions, cleaned my dishes, swiped the floors, cleaned the bathroom, and moved my bed. All in all, I'm very proud of myself for finally taking care of things, although it was never too dirty around here. I might get a desk to put in my bedroom so I can actually use that room; that would be nice.

My memory doesn't seem to be as good as it used to be, but I could be wrong about that. It could very well be because I'm readjusting to my more natural way of thinking.

That is about it, for now. Not really anything else going on.
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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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My friend is back, and her mother is doing better than expected. She's still really worried for her, though. I have prayed for both of them multiple times, and I almost never do that. Hopefully they will both be okay.

My father is back, too. He got back roughly three weeks ago but didn't meet up with me until almost two weeks later. He said that he and his girlfriend were "busy" for a while. That is slightly suspicious, and even my brother mentioned that, saying that when he calls them they are always busy for some reason and unable to talk. My brother made a valid point that they are both retired, so as such they should have plenty of time, but that is obviously not quite the case. I wonder what they are doing, but I honestly just want all of that to be water under the bridge. At this stage, I really should just have little to do with it.

I've been good with not drinking so much. Only about once a week, which is fine. I also haven't done weed or DXM in a while, and I plan on delaying their usage for a bit. I kind of want to sober up and not rely on that stuff, although outside of alcohol I had no addiction problem. I still smoke lightly, but that is really just to give myself something to look forward to for the evening. I don't smoke enough to cause any lasting damage, at least for now. Although I plan on quitting that, too.

My dreams have been weird recently. I have been astral and mental projecting, as well as having vivid dreams, over a period of several days and I have no idea why, outside of not drinking alcohol anymore. Perhaps due to my cessation, I am becoming more spiritually adept? It is definitely possible. I have discovered many things about how to enter into the astral and mental realms. As it turns out, the Astral Realm is hard to enter, whereas the Mental Realm is relatively easy. I don't know why, except for the fact that the Astral Realm tends to drain my energy, whereas the Mental Realm rejuvenates me. Both realms produce vivid landscapes, however the Astral Realm is far more sharp and clear, whereas the Mental Realm is covered by a translucent fog. I don't know much about the Astral Realm, since I can only be in there for at most a minute, but I know quite a bit about the Mental Realm. You can have dreams within dreams in there, and you can see with your eyelids closed. In fact, you can enter into the Mental Realm (or the Astral Realm) through normal dreams, although I do not know how to command that at will. Entities do exist in there, but I don't encounter them too much. It is not like a lucid dream, since I have little control over either realm. I vastly prefer the Mental Realm over the Astral Realm, since it is more personal to me and I can be in there for a long while. I have the theory that the Mental Realm is the mindscape within one's subconscious, and thus is not shared, whereas the Astral Realm is shared with others.

I told this to my friend yesterday, and she asked me if I told my therapist about this. I asked her if she thought that I had a mental illness due to this, and she said "No." Odd, though, since my brother sort of accused me of manifesting psychosis due to this a while back. I don't blame either one of them, though, since having purely subjective experiences tends to be associated with having a mental illness.

I'm probably going to start writing today. I've put it off long enough. Besides, my psychiatrist wants to see what I can write, so I will share it with her when I'm done. I will almost certainly finish my writing by the time I see her again, so it shouldn't be a problem. Oh, and I'm also looking to get this one officially published this time, so in case I'm doing this for real. I've already done some research as to how it would happen, and I think that I might finally have a chance. My only worry is that if I do, I might make enough money to disqualify me from SSI, and then I won't get another book published, leaving me with nothing. But hopefully such a bad thing won't happen.
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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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The past two weeks or so have been relatively productive. I no longer have inertia, and generally get things done.

Still, I had a sadness come over me for a few days. I was reminded about my dead mother, and from that I was reminded by death in general. Those two topics plagued my mind for a while, and it was not uncommon to see things in the environment that reminded me of them. About a week ago, I saw a woman about my age (maybe slightly older) at the coffee place in the commons that vaguely looked like my mother; almost no one looks like my mother, so it couldn't have been a coincidence. In a way, it felt nice, but in another, it felt horrible, for it reminded me that my mother is gone forever, and has been for a while.

I told my therapist during my last session that my father taught me that there was no such thing as love. She said that to believe that was stupid, and that I should learn that love is real, for I still love my mother in my heart. This is true, and I am relieved, but not only does it do me little good, but I dare say that such feelings are rare. I suppose that it is natural, though, since I was a bit closer to my mother than most people are, or were. I was normally by her side when I was a lot younger, and made sure to talk to her at least every week when I was away at MTSU. I wonder if I will be that close to anyone again? I doubt it, but it is possible. I'm the sort of guy who kind of wants to be by himself, most of the time.

I've been reading Theosophy again, this time "The Other Side of Death" by C.W. Leadbeater. It is quite an interesting book and the author is a very decent writer (if not slightly loopy), but what was funny was that about two years ago I read another book of his called "The Way to Seership" and at the end of the very large book, it told you to simply meditate. It didn't even tell you how to do so. Well, in this current book, it brought up meditation in quite vivid detail, to the point where I tried it myself two days ago. Using a mantra to concentrate on my desire, I was able to have very fleeting visions, but the meditation caused me to stay up for hours. I am not sure why that happened. Nonetheless, I thought that what I did was very cool, to say the least, and also quite promising. I will definitely do it again, for I feel that I should do this in order to prepare me for a higher existence after this one.

I had an odd dream last night. It started with me in my old high school, in a room reserved for special education students, except the classroom was filled with normal kids. I don't remember what the teacher was talking about, but then I was transported to a room filled with philosophers, and I was a set of electronics. I blurted out some ignorant comment that I actually made years ago, and one person started to insult me, and another commended him on his venomous behavior. He then tried to kill me by trying to destroy my CPU, but he failed, and instead just took my speakers. I then revolved to go to the parking lot to either remove the taillights from his car or to cut his brakes. Needless to say, it then cut to another scene, where I was in my parents' old bedroom in Oak Harbor. I was seeing my finances and my mother commented on how I needed to watch my money, which I confirmed and then set out to find a plasma center (where they would give me money in exchange for my plasma), and then to hang out at a place that I hanged out earlier in my dreams about a year ago (this confirms the existence of an inner dream world, to me). But then, I couldn't leave, and I watched a risque music video with my brother and sister. It then cut to a presentation done by a surrealist artist, and I drew a picture with a pencil during the presentation, being highly motivated. I then saw an exposition of a doll blowing balloons, only for it to turn into something else, and then it went backstage, where a set of parents overdosed their daughter with cold medicine and she ended up a vegetable. Then, it was me and siblings on broomsticks, flying over a bland, brown beach, with my brother making the comment that the girl was brain dead. I told him fairly lucidly that she wasn't quite, since she could breathe on her own and that in turn implied that her medulla oblongata was functional. We then ended up landing to where our parents were, and I saw an unusual Game Gear cartridge in front of me. My father told me that I was going to work until I cried at night, and I protested, but that was the end of the dream.

Whew, what a mouthful. I think that I know what this all means. The classroom represented the notion that I was about to be taught something. The philosophy thing represents what I want to be, but have obstacles in. The music video represents what I despise in this society. The art presentation represented what I truly wanted to aspire to. The poor vegetable girl represents my worst fear. The money thing was about my current worries. The Game Gear cartridge represents the last of my material desires (there are only two things that I want to accumulate: used books and old video games). And finally, the demand from my father represents the demands made on me on how to live my life.

That dream was very interesting; perhaps one of the most important dreams I have ever had. I woke up early today, thinking about what I learned from it, and I basically came to the conclusion that this life is my life, and that I am going to live it up to my standards, and if others have a problem with that, then that is solely their own problem. I'm not selfish; I simply want to be left alone. I would be selfish if I made demands out of others, but I never do that. All in all, I think that I am living my life the best that I can.

September 2017

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