Brighter on the outside.

A few people once told me I looked, and acted, confident. When I’ve heard this, I had to wonder – what the fuck is it they think they are seeing? It can’t possibly be me, because that’s an incredible leap from the truth.

This is going to end up being overly personal, so abandon thread if you don’t want that.

I sit awake most nights going through the same routine. Not the usual “remember that awful thing you did 20 years ago?” Instead, they are thoughts of death. Horrors. Tragedy. What if someone breaks in with intent to kill? What if the car crashes and I’m left mangled? What if …? And on and on it goes, for hours, until I realize I’ve got maybe 3 hours of sleep ahead of me. On and on.

There’s no confidence here. Just jokes and a facade of immature humor. It’s easier to get by if people are laughing, right? Smiles keep people from asking questions you never want to answer.

“How are you?” … “Alive!”

Walk though a store and imagine every single person there is dangerous. They’re all itching to do harm, cause chaos, set the world on fire. That’s how my mind wants to view it. Like you’re perpetually stuck in those microseconds before a car crash – the rush of panic mixed with slowing time. Everything drags on, and everything is terrifying.

Yeah, big time confidence.

It’s often considered too much to speak about your own demons. Nobody wants to hear that shit, the crazy people should just keep their ways to themselves. Too bad, here it is. Just a bit of it, but here it is.

It shouldn’t be such a taboo subject. Plenty of your friends and relatives are going through something. Anything. And a fair number say nothing out of fear of looking insane, or pathetic, or useless.

I’ve been slapped with an array of diagnoses that have left my mental health specialist certain I’m incapable of functioning in any sort of normal setting. And I’ve always been this way. (Note: No, I’m not a psychopath. Give me time.)

Every day I walk around in a state of neutral absence. I’ve never quite existed fully, being too lost in my head to be present for anyone. Never call back. Never reach out. Never keep connections. I’m a pretty shit friend, with that.

I’m not special. Everyone has layers upon layers inside that nobody ever experiences. Everyone is somehow a special snowflake, or so they think.

Or, more succinctly…

The only point to this is pretty simple: remember that everyone around you is a little fucked up, and that’s okay. They might need you to just sit back and listen sometimes.

Mental illness shouldn’t be shameful, period. It can happen to anyone, anytime, no matter how good life is.




Here’s the deal. I got my head sliced open. I’m a little bit off lately, for obvious reasons. However, the writing bug bit me again and I want to get right back where I left off. Where that was, I can only guess, because it’s been a long damn time since I have done this. Please hold while I reboot.

So. First off, I’m terrible at following directions. I wasn’t supposed to go wandering like I did after surgery. Not supposed to do this, do that, the other thing(s). Again, terrible. I did all of those things and more – I still am. However, I’ve healed up nicely. But the thing about surgery like this is that it takes way longer to heal inside than you’d think. People can be “off” for over a year after you poke the brain. And I certainly am. As my doctor said yesterday, “it looks like a war zone in there.”


I’m not 100% positive on how it’s different. I have a skewed perspective, being me. All I know is that my head still hurts, as usual, and I can’t lift my right eyebrow properly, and other strange little quirks. So there’s your fancy update on that.

This may end up basically a “how my body is attempting to kill me today!” blog with random pictures and posts about cool shit I’ve seen. And out here, there’s a LOT of cool shit. I don’t know yet. I may put the previous format to rest, since it’s a whole other life now out here.img_20161013_125709

Things are far different now than they ever were in Florida. That’s not a bad thing.