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Score: -1

I didn’t get the job, despite my confidence. At the moment, I feel a bit shattered, but I know that will pass. I will start over again tomorrow with the full-speed job search. For now, I’m feeling a bit hurt from rejection, which will just take time to recover from. This is natural, until the time in which I can engage in my future. Persistence is key. That is all for now.

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Bound unknown,

Placeless path,

Barred a distance–

Against darkness.

Strand-thin,

Vitally slipping,

Twisted burden–

Choked to oblivion.

Farther each,

Crossing edges,

Uncharted–

Alone.

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Clearly I was not doing super awesome in the mood department last night. Sometimes that will happen. I go down a hole and stay there a little while, but eventually, I get tired of being down there since nothing good ever happens while in it. I am still having sleep issues, but frankly, I’m pretty excited about today, which has propelled me forward a bunch. The process of misery has, albeit temporarily, run its course. I am pleased to feel a distinct transition this morning, despite the absurd starting point of consciousness.

Either I am taking a very big step forward, or taking it at some point in the near future. It is inevitable that I will continue to strive for a life I can be proud of. This profession is rewarding in a way I could not have fully comprehended without needing someone’s help when I was a patient. I am glad I have my life, and I see now how fortunate I have been along my journey. Many people have helped me, and others have hurt me and been cut away. Survival is carrying only as much weight as you can while still going forward.

Today I’m truly going to be Neurochemically Challenged as I withdraw from the Latuda and still shake the tendrils of THC. Still, regardless, I’m going right into the belly of the beast. I will make a shattering impact and leave them wondering when I can start working. Get it. Got it. Good.

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Paths for fingers,

Delicate raindrops,

Sparking light–

Electric warmly,

Whispered, present.

~~

Branched to new leaves,

Fissure-divided,

Bridgeless gap–

Words windedly gone,

Rattling down dark.

~~

Silhouette–

Purposeful void,

Rowed cages,

Ensnared–

Enveloped.

~~

Bell of dawn,

A soulless east,

Roil the dust,

Ashed facelessly–

Empty,

For parched lips.

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Score: +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That’s not the real score, fear not.

Appropriately however, I’m excited as my interview was confirmed for Monday! That was the final piece of the equation, because I have no doubt whatsoever that I’m in after that. As soon as they see my show, they’re going to be sold at 13.23 an hour. All I need do now is not be a complete idiot at the interview, which seems highly unlikely. Got to remember to bring my head with me though. Last interview, I left it on the entry table by the door and drove half way there until I realized I’d forgotten it.

This job pays above what PSS make entry level, and they have been enthusiastic about recruiting my services thus far. It feels good to be recognized and valued in this way. All that training, all the work I put in to advancing myself down this career path has finally come to fruition in the crest of realization. Blog, I am so grateful that this is happening. Remember how jazzed I was all last weekend about this prospect? It’s here, it’s happening, and soon, a lot of what I want out of life will be in my domain. Independence, prosperity, security and consistency. Now comes the days of the Peer Counselor. Long may he reign! Even from great calamity, there can be success.

Just 7 months ago, a had a psychotic episode and was not able to go back to work. I drew a new path for my life and started down the road. I filed suit for discrimination, and pursued a career path with meaning and purpose. I worked my ass off, called, wrote, insisted, begged my way to each and every opportunity I was presented and none of them were squandered. I’ve matured from disaster, and embraced a significantly more functional way of living. Soon, Blog, I will find a kind of happiness that works for me.

I will post a real score later in the day. Scores are cumulative, so morning makes no sense unless I was going to be in some form of prolonged torpor until tomorrow evening.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I feel genuinely glowing, just radiating my confidence and energy. I am so grateful for all the help I have been given to be allowed to get to this point. Now, it is time to give back to others who are looking to rise up out of sadness and embrace the completeness of freedom. That’s really what it is right there. Mental Illness confines, ensnares, constricts. I want to go forward in this world setting those prisoners free and help them realize fulfillment in a relevant context. Come see me, and let’s talk, I might be able to help you.

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Snapped to strain,

Tendrils tearing,

Distant, dimming.

Unwinding thread,

Screaming apart,

No more than a glance.

Turned in–

Spiral miserably,

Consuming dark,

Alone.

For a time,

Young, alive,

But not again.

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Dawn to feel,

Some distant–

Dusty shelf.

Remnants–

Just strings.

Temple in ruin,

Dashed columns–

Memories collapse.

Bound to distant orbits,

Inescapably calling,

Begging–

Feeling the strain,

From somewhere far.

Strings,

Dancing, alive–

Inviting fate to speak.

Touch–

Past, future, present.

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I have been infiltrated by an unwanted gastropod, who hitched a ride on me from some point on my fishing journey this morning. Once I put my jacket away, he crawled up the wall, then onto the ceiling. This is when I spotted him, on approach to deliver what I’m sure was to be the killing blow while I was busy blogging (or otherwise not paying attention to the potential of sky slug). “Son of a bitch!” I shouted, and disposed of the unwanted invader. “A watery death for you!” I cackled madly, my face illuminated from underneath and my eyebrows wildly accented. Muahaha!

I have “created” a new fishing lure (see abomination). As I described earlier, I demolished a rooster tail and added all this trout shit to it. It’s basically the worst thing I’ve ever seen, and the probability of catching anything more than an aquatic plant with it seems astonishingly low.

So I got my fucking dad laughing at me, and that’s probably fair, but nevertheless, he insists I should use “live” bait or food. “Just give me 5 minutes and a cheese ball” he keeps telling me. And I suppose if everyone in professional sports did steroids and got super artificially buff that would be cool too right? OH YAH, LOOK AT MAH MUSCLES? Moral equivalence! Food/live bait is cheating. I’m not fishing for food. There is no urgency, therefore I should be able to procure a fishy by NO OTHER MEANS than through skill/deception. I MUST fool the fish… it is the only way to achieve true honor. If the fish (surely) does not like this latest, sad offering to the gods of temptation, I’ll just come back tomorrow and try something new to fail with. Basically, this is a new low point for me as an angler. I’m not going to let another self-respecting fisherman see what I’m walking over to the water with tomorrow, and I will get to the spot under the cover of near darkness to avoid potential shame.

Ugh. Okay, all is not lost despite the troubling events of earlier. For a minute there though, I had to do a quick trip through the Torah. Locusts, frogs, burning hail, no plague of slugs. Phew. Then I was like, OH SHIT, Revelations though? Was one of the four horsemen a gastropod? FUCK! Was there anything about slugs or possibly flaming slugs (there is a lot of fire and brimstone and earth cracks and shit in there)? Again, phew. There  is no religious significance to today’s sky slug. It is not a herald of the Apocalypse, or a sign of God’s wrath upon the Egyptians (or any other -ians). Always double-check your biblical prophecies; don’t get caught flat footed when the seven headed beast shows up.

I’m coasting on a happy, riding this high to Friday, or maybe Thursday. We shall see. My optimism is astonishingly high, despite being defeated 23 – 0 by a fish. “Fuck you fish. You have nothing on me. Come at me bro!” That’s how we’re going to end this one.

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By that I mean personally; there are no new lands being charted. However, I do tend to start naming things in my environment once I become established. Below you will find a map of my new home and the various places I have marked and named. Explanations provided. The area, in general will be known as the Muck Trench and the surrounding foliage Muck Trench Woods.

Welcome to: Muck Trench Proper

1. The Sky Bridge: goes over the 80 and is the only way to get to the best fishing spot. Puts the fear of impending death on you every time you cross

2. Best Fishing Spot: where I stand around waving my stick in the air and catching nothing while fish laugh in my face

3. Alternate Fishing Spot: there is good mojo here, but no fish… which leads you to wonder what the fuck said mojo is really doing?

4. Long Road: this is the area where a Grass Bear would be most likely to strike, beware (distant, more aggressive relative of Sand Bear)

5. Far Outpost: possibly radioactive, possibly lost alien hardware, possibly the doom of humankind… 100% mystery

6. Sleepy Spot: never looked very comfortable, and now it’s kinda dead, and scattered about like a lion kill

7. Near Outpost: not too far from the road and the spider union has its lodgings here (SUMT local 888 [we let the Black Widows decide the numbers])

8. Popular Fishing Spot: just as mucky as the rest of the Trench but here you can park a car and take in the smells up close

My starting point is always to cut through Barandas Park to get at the paved walking trail. You must “bushwack” a few feet to get from paved road by the sky bridge to Muck Trench service road where the rest of the trail goes. This is the one I need to take *** on and see what she if she thinks it’s as exciting as I do. Lots of fuzzy animals running around, pesticide loaded scuz pit to our left… noice. Some nature better than broken solo cup and homeless guy sleeping for scenery on my walks in El Cajon.

I’m geared up for another fantastic week in my newfound home, starting with my warmline and trip to the NAMI office today. I need to tell David that I am now very actively seeking employment due to my recent acceleration of life-timetables. I want him to have first crack. I know I need to make at least as much as I was at my last job If I want to afford a 1BR around here. I’m doing a budget spreadsheet this morning in preparation for my eventual transition. Without calculation, planning and care, well-intended steps towards progress can sometimes be misplaced. So for now, we are in the stages of the process where everything gets figured out before we execute (by “we” I am referring to myself, my PM and my Architect). A lot like building something with blueprints. Look at them for a good long time and make sure that with the way it’s drawn, that it will all fit together again when they have to go out and build the thing.

I’m tired of not being the Lord of my own castle, with an Iron Throne to perch myself on and hand out edicts to my vassals (which at this point would consist of any insect or rodent that would have wandered onto the premises). I need a pit full of slaves looking sad, and another pit with slaves fighting hundreds of very angry tortoises. Ah yes, my reign will be long and prosperous. “Bring your Lord some more Saltines!”

So blog, I’m going to the office today so I get to fancycate myself and smell less like moldy elephant splatters and more like “fresh” human. Hooray! I’m starting up at 8, then heading over to the office at 10. I have a great deal of optimism for myself about the direction I have decided to go. I am still sad to see my parents self-destructing just beyond my ability to do anything about. I feel less flabbergasted today, but still resolved to seek alternative living arrangements as soon as possible. I just don’t need roommates, not even my parents, though I love them both. I need to be in my own space, by myself, in charge of what happens in the environment and secure in a self-defined kingdom of my own control. I feel this is a healthy step towards better individuation, albeit, sounding a bit like a maniacal overlord planning a takeover rather than a mentally ill person making a healthy life transition. There are more possible future outcomes that lead to happiness for me now if I move out on my own than if I were to stay in this box.

It’s already off to a good start, this week, and I eagerly await the next few days as my foot presses harder onto the gas pedal; racing forward towards the promise of better days. I’ll be checking in here through the day… so bai for now!

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My dad came in here and tried to do what he always does, and I got fed up with his attempts to leverage me as the middle-man in their disagreements. Not to mention the enticing reward of not  being respected either. I’m just a negotiator no one is listening to. So, I basically told them both I’d had enough, and wrote them the following email with a BCC for my sister. She’s a part of this family too, and she deserves to know what’s going on with us. I’m certainly not going to shoulder this alone. Here’s what I wrote:

I am not going to arbitrate your disagreements any more and please do not involve me in your fights. Neither of you have listened to a single piece of advice I’ve given you to effectively improve your communication skills and you find yourselves back in the same spot over and over. 

I have proved to be more frustrating to deal with than useful since I am tired of not listened to about any of your disconnects. Either that, or you are content in this dysfunction you seem to have, and unwilling to change it at all or even seek a solution that prevents further trauma.
This environment, in this state, is something I want no part of. When I had a psychotic break at work, it was because I had to walk in to a place, inescapably, every day, where people roiled with hatred towards me. It created an energy and a pressure on me that caused my to break down mentally and snap.
I will not let that happen again, and your continued lack of ability to effectively talk to each other has forced my hand prematurely. I will not have a place I cannot escape from be toxic and poison my mental health, which is what you two have perpetuated. I am going to forgo my plan to be a volunteer for the immediate future and seek employment, followed shortly by my moving to a 1BR somewhere else in Adagio. I will not let you damage my mental health, or my environment, hamper my sense of safety, or trigger a trauma I have no desire to relive. 
This is non-negotiable. I have tried my best to help you two, but you’re in denial of your issues, unwilling to be real, and content to blame/judge each other into your separate corners. If anything, look at your history of fighting, sweeping the bits under the rug and moving on. How’s that working out for you? Have you ever stopped to consider another way of doing things?
It’s on you two now. 
 
Now, personally, I don’t think there’s anything mean about this letter. It’s clear from my tone that I’m frustrated with the dynamic, and raising the MH alarm which is always concerning. I don’t feel upset, just tired of being used the same way over and over, with no effort to change anything to make it better. I’m a band-aid, and I’d rather be something more than just a band-aid. I deserve more respect than that for all the shit I’ve been through, and I don’t get that here. I’m not an expert on anything because I’m their kid.
Well, I’m taking my health into my own hands and not allowing someone else’s inability to mature beyond petty squabbles interfere with the arc of my success and ongoing mental health. It’s nothing personal, and I have no resentment. I’ve just seen where this road goes, and I don’t want to go there. Not ever again. I hope I can drop by as less a resident and more a visitor and perhaps that will change our dynamic a bit.
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